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ROYDENHURST 
 
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 8Z3 
 
 ROYDENHURST. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 "* The Derby day is over, the race run and won ; 
 
 <j that great holiday has been thoroughly en- 
 
 joyed, and is being still discussed in the 
 
 sporting world. 
 
 A great deal of money has changed hands 
 
 by an unlooked for winner ; numerous are the 
 4'" perplexing feelings which it has brought to 
 
 some, especially to those, who only a few 
 ^ days since considered themselves perfectly 
 ^ safe. 
 
 A spacious dining-room, where not only 
 ^ luxury and ease bespeak all that wealth can 
 
 supply, but also that indescribable something 
 
 ^ VOL. I. B 
 
EOYDENHURST. 
 
 which at once tells you that you are in the 
 presence of aristocracy. 
 
 In the portraits of ancestors which adorn 
 the walls, some in heavy armour, and others 
 of softer features in the rich costume of their 
 day, nobility is stamped. After taking a 
 glance round the room to which the reader 
 is introduced, let us look at the living oc- 
 cupants, who seem to have no care as to the 
 smiles or frowns of those ancestors around 
 them. 
 
 Before a table well covered with viands 
 are two gentlemen ; one of them is the master 
 of the house, his age might be between fifty 
 and sixty, and although his well shaped head 
 is partly bald, and his hair grey, he is still a re- 
 markably fine, handsome man ; at the present 
 time some annoyance or some perplexity is 
 absorbing his mind, as he sits or rather lounges 
 back in his chair with careless indifference to 
 the repast before him, but whatever his 
 trouble may be, his companion does not 
 
EOTDENHUEST. 
 
 appear to share in it, judging by tlie activity 
 of his knife and fork, which bespeak a keen 
 appetite and appreciation of the good things 
 before him ; he is a broad shouldered man, 
 with large heavy cheeks, and in everything, 
 but with his knife and fork, this family 
 lawyer, for such he was, was slow — slow in 
 thought, slow in manner, and in all matters 
 of business; but now having fortified him- 
 self within, he was able to discuss the busi- 
 ness which is perplexing his client, so 
 clearing his voice, he said — 
 
 " A large sum, a very large sum ! I don't 
 see how the money is to be raised. Sir 
 Godfrey. Your losses on the turf are most 
 unfortunate ! " 
 
 " Unfortunate ! confound them ! of course 
 they are ; I don't want to be told that, what 
 I want you to do, Catchall, is to think what 
 the deuce is to be done," replied the Baronet. 
 
 " Well, you see. Sir Grodfrey, the fact of 
 the matter is, your heavy losses just now. 
 
4 EOTDENHUEST. 
 
 and your son's Oxford debts liave brought 
 affairs to a crisis ! How are his bills to be 
 honoured?" 
 
 "By Jove ! " angrily exclaimed the 
 Baronet, " you don't mean to tell me he is 
 at his old tricks again ? Why I cleared him 
 off lately." 
 
 " Mr. Eichard has considerably overdrawn 
 his allowance ; he has entreated me to send 
 him money — and only yesterday he — " 
 
 " There, tell him he can't have any," in- 
 terposed the Baronet, who rose from his seat 
 and began to pace the room with rapid 
 strides, while the lawyer silently watched 
 him, then stopping suddenly before the table, 
 and in somewhat a quieter tone said, " Come 
 Catchall, you lawyers have a way of raising 
 money on mortgages ; surely something of 
 that sort can be done ? " 
 
 " You forget, Sir Godfrey, the heavy 
 mortgages already out, the rental of your 
 estate won't stand, as I will again explain." 
 
EOTDENHURST. 
 
 " Pshaw ! " interrupted the Baronet, " don't 
 for heaven's sake worry me with details, they 
 irritate me, surely you can suggest a plan — 
 there," pushing a decanter towards his man 
 of business, " help yourself, and let us come 
 to something tangible." 
 
 The Lawyer helped himself, and bending 
 forward his head, protruded his heavy lips to 
 meet the brimming glass, lest a drop of that 
 costly wine should be lost ; then having 
 slowly restored his handkerchief to his pocket, 
 he was able to suggest something. 
 
 " I have been with a client of mine this 
 morning, who is one of your creditors already. 
 Sir Godfrey ; I allude to Mr. Fortiswood." 
 
 " Well, yes, I know that ; he has plenty of 
 money, I suppose?" 
 
 " Yes, Fortiswood is a wealthy man ; he has 
 hinted to me that he could advance a further 
 loan ; but on certain conditions. 1 conclude. 
 Sir Godfrey, you know what those conditions 
 are?" 
 
6 EOYDENHTJRST. 
 
 '' Yes, yes, you mean he has proposed to 
 marry my daughter ? " 
 
 " I do ; he offers not only a further loan 
 on the mortgages he holds, but to make 
 liberal settlements. Has he been absolutely 
 refused ? " 
 
 " He has my consent, but what the devil 
 am I to do if she won't have him ? " 
 
 " Perhaps, when the young lady comes to 
 understand the present condition of your 
 affairs, and the advantages such a marriage 
 would be to herself and her family, she may 
 be induced to change her mind," said the 
 Lawyer. 
 
 " No, I tell you honestly, Catchall, I fear 
 not. I don't believe his money will induce 
 her to accept him; what the fear of her 
 mother's sorrow, when things come to the 
 hammer, may do, I can't tell ; let Fortiswood 
 try his chance again, tell him from me — 
 'faint heart never won fair lady,' he had 
 better ride over to-morrow." 
 
ROYDENHURST. 
 
 "Well, Sir Godfrey, it won't do to cast 
 him off absolutely yet awhile, at all events at 
 the present crisis." 
 
 " But if she obstinately refuses him, what 
 the deuce, Catchall, are we to do ? " 
 
 The Lawyer shrugged his shoulders and 
 looked thoughtful, then he said very slowly — 
 
 '* I fear in that case there is only one thing 
 left for us to do, Sir Grodfrey." 
 
 ''What is that?" impatiently asked the 
 Baronet. 
 
 '' Cut off the entail, and sell the reversion 
 of Roydenhurst. I don't imagine you will 
 have any trouble in getting your son's con- 
 sent, under his own dij0&culties." 
 
 " That is a bold stroke of yours. Catchall, 
 cut off the entail ! Ah ! " and as he spoke, his 
 eye rested on the portrait of his wife over the 
 fireplace ; he instantly rose from his chair, 
 " Hush," he said, ''we won't talk business here, 
 if you have finished your luncheon, come with 
 me to my library ;" but those beautiful soft 
 
■8 EOTDENHURST. 
 
 expressive eyes, he thought, followed him re- 
 proachfully to the door. " Cut off the entail ! 
 how will she like that," he murmured to him- 
 self, as he led the wa}^ to his own sanctum ; 
 aud there we will leave the gentlemen to talk 
 over their difficulties, and plot and plan how 
 to raise money to pay the Baronet's debts on 
 the turf. Such was one result of the Derby 
 day. 
 
 Eoydenhurst was a fine old Manor, it had 
 been for many generations in the Culverton 
 family; when first seen from the road, it 
 appeared standing on a very high eminence, 
 but the two or three miles of approach were 
 so gradual in ascent, that you were surprised, 
 on arriving, to find how much less on a hill 
 it really was ; the house, built of grey granite, 
 had two wings separated by a grand old hall, 
 the roof of which was vaulted and lofty, and 
 through the gloomy light from the long 
 narrow windows, you could only trace the 
 outline of coats of arms, that once had been 
 
ROTDENHUEST. 
 
 emblazoned on the carved panels above. 
 The fireplace was a remarkable feature for 
 its antiquity ; here grotesque figures and 
 curious emblems were elaborately carved in 
 dark oak, while on the large open hearth, 
 stood massive fire-dogs of the griffin form, 
 on which were piled huge logs of wood. 
 
 The pleasure grounds, intercepted here 
 and there by shrubs and forest trees, sloped 
 down to the beautiful lake, which from its 
 great expanse, appeared more like a river. 
 On the western side of the mansion, an ex- 
 tensive park, abounding in fine timber, led to 
 the entrance gates ; the surrounding pine and 
 other woods, and the distant hills, added to 
 the extreme beauty of the landscape. 
 
 Sir Godfrey Culverton, the present owner 
 of Roydenhurst, was, as we have already 
 shown, a lover of the turf ; selfishness dark- 
 ened his whole character ; surrounded by his 
 sporting friends, ambitious to keep up his 
 reputation as a great man in the " betting 
 
10 EOTDENHUEST. 
 
 world," lie never let the momentous concerns 
 of life trouble him ; he did not notice his 
 wife's declining health, nor heed his daughter's 
 unhappiness and misery from the persecution 
 of his new friend, whose wealth he hoped, 
 through her, might be the means of saving 
 him from inevitable ruin. 
 
EOYDENHURST. 11 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 SiE Godfrey's new frieod and acquaintance, 
 Mr. Fortiswood, was the son of a merchant,, 
 from whom he inherited a large fortune ; 
 both his parents died when he was a child, 
 and left him to the care of a penurious old 
 aunt. In due time she sent him to an or- 
 dinary commercial school in the little town 
 where she had resided all her life, " There,'* 
 she said, " he would learn the meaning,, 
 and putting together of pounds shillings and 
 pence," which, in her opinion, was the sole 
 education needful to make a gentleman of 
 him ! As he advanced in boyhood, his natur- 
 ally headstrong, self-willed disposition became 
 stronger, and his impetuous bursts of passion 
 began to terrifiy the old lady, who soon 
 
12 ROYDENHUEST. 
 
 discoYered he was beyond her management, 
 and consequently she sent him to an uncle, 
 living in a wild retired part of North Wales, 
 where he learnt to ride fearlessly, to break in 
 horses, and in fact, hunting, horse-racing, 
 and farming were his chief occupations. 
 His knowledge of horses, and love of field 
 sports, brought him under the notice of those 
 gentlemen who were sporting characters. 
 Perhaps it was this notice from his superiors 
 which first put ambitious thoughts into his 
 head, and made him alter his style of dress, 
 and for a time, his demeanour; but familiarity 
 is never safe wifch an inferior ; although young 
 Fortiswood imitated the style of dress and 
 habits, and tastes of his new acquaintances, 
 yet his impetuous temper, too often exposed, 
 in bursts of coarse invective language, his 
 low origin, until at last he was shown the 
 cold shoulder by all the neighbouring gentle- 
 men. On coming into possession of his 
 large fortune, he determined to leave his 
 
ROTDENHUEST. 13- 
 
 relations, and to purcliase land, and become 
 an " estated gentleman," in some far off 
 country, where his former position was un- 
 known. 
 
 About this time, an estate in Cheshire, 
 which had formerly belonged to the Culverton 
 family, was advertised for sale ; Mr. Fortis- 
 wood became the purchaser, and took up his 
 residence at Felton Court, about ten miles 
 from Eoydenhurst. Here, as the owner of 
 Felton Court, and known to be wealthy, 
 always well mounted and equipped in the 
 hunting field, Mr. Fortiswood was again 
 admitted into the society of gentlemen. 
 Sir Godfrey Culverton delighted to find his 
 new neighbour a sporting man, who kept 
 a first-rate stud, and was a man of large 
 fortune, invited him to Eoydenhurst, where 
 to his family he excused his friend's brusque 
 manner and want of polish, by observing that 
 he had not been much in the world, never 
 travelled, but that he was a capital neighbour, 
 
14 EOTDENHURST. 
 
 and knew more of horses than any one about ; 
 in short, the Baronet seeing that the young 
 man might become useful to him, took him 
 by the hand, and, in due time, Mr. Fortiswood 
 became a frequent visitor at the house. 
 
 He was clever enough, partly from ex- 
 perience, to know that his keeping in the 
 society he now mixed with depended upon 
 himself ; but it was not altogether an easy 
 task to shake off at once the free habit of 
 thought and speech of his early training, 
 which had been among a class of persons 
 who had no higher views of life than buying 
 and selling, ploughing, or dealing in cattle ; 
 anxious, however, to keep well with his new 
 acquaintances, he held a check on his im- 
 petuous temper. As time wore on, Mr. For- 
 tiswood began to discover the Baronet's 
 wreak points, his reckless extravagance, his 
 love for the turf, which he saw was leadino: 
 him to ruin. Lawyer Catchall had let him 
 into a good deal of what was going on, and 
 
EOTDENHURST. 15 
 
 he now began to take up mortgages, to 
 advance Sir Godfrey money, to gain a com- 
 plete influence over him, and no sooner did 
 he feel that his wealth was giving him power, 
 than his ambitious views grew not only to 
 become the Baronet's sole creditor, for the 
 sale of the Roydenhurst estate, but he now 
 aspired to win the Baronet's eldest daughter, 
 Jane Culverton ! A fascination which had 
 bewitched him on first beholding her, had on 
 every occasion of meeting her increased, until 
 admiration grew into love, and the more she 
 avoided him, the deeper and more intense 
 this sentiment became, and now he was 
 determined to make the ruined state of her 
 father's affairs plead for him. This per- 
 secution Jane Culverton felt was an insult, 
 she saw at once that he was no gentleman 
 by birth or education, to give him a right to 
 address her, and her father's sanction, nay, 
 almost encouragement, was adding bitter 
 grief to her indignation. 
 
16 EOTDENHURST. 
 
 While Richard Culverton, the heir, was at 
 Eoydenhurst, Mr. Fortiswood had no plea- 
 sure nor satisfaction in his visits. The young 
 man's fine handsome face, his ready flow of 
 conversation on his Oxford feats, on the 
 topics of the day, that ease of manner natural 
 to good birth and education ; all this, Mr. 
 Fortiswood envied. 
 
 On the other hand, young Culverton grew 
 impatient and distrustful at the immense in- 
 fluence he noticed Fortiswood had acquired 
 over his father. There was an insolent assur- 
 ance and familiarity in his manner of addres- 
 sing him which irritated Eichard Culverton, 
 and made him take a delis^ht in settino^ him 
 down, and often displaying his wit and 
 sarcasm at Mr. Fortiswood' s expense, who, 
 too, hated the heir, and began more and more 
 to dream of revenge. 
 
EOYDENHUEST. 17 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 The visit from his lawyer had left Sir God- 
 frey somewhat uneasy in his mind. The turn 
 events had taken on the Derby day were 
 certainly very threatening to his estate. He 
 seemed quite to forget the mortgages and 
 bonds already given for past extravagances, 
 but to dwell on his present loss as if it were 
 the only one his conscience had to make him 
 feel ill at ease with himself; to " sell the re- 
 version of Roydenhurst," in fact, " cut off 
 the entail," was a notion to which he could 
 not all at once be reconciled. But then, he 
 argued to himself, " if Fortiswood made it a 
 marriage settlement on my daughter, it will 
 not be so bad, after all ; the place would still 
 be in the family.*' 
 
 VOL. I. 
 
18 EOYDENHUEST. 
 
 "Witli these reflections, he determined he 
 would speak again to Jane, and point out to 
 her his ruin. 
 
 The following morning, as he stood at his 
 library window, which looked oyer the park, 
 he saw that an opportunity offered itself to 
 carry out his intentions ; for, being a bright 
 sunny day, Jane was sitting under a tree 
 sketching. 
 
 He hurried out of the room, and made his 
 way to her. He overtook his youngest child, 
 the little Laura, with her basket full of wild 
 flowers. 
 
 " Run away, Laura, I want to speak to 
 Jane." 
 
 The child ran to her attendant, who took 
 the hint, and walked away. 
 
 ''Jane ! come and walk to the park gate with 
 me; I want to speak to you." 
 
 She gave a start at the sound of her father's 
 voice, for so intent had she been on her 
 sketching that she had not heard his foot- 
 
EOTDEXHURST. 19 
 
 steps. Reluctantly she rose, for too ^ell 
 slie guessed what he was going to say to 
 her. 
 
 " Jane, I am a ruined man. My horses, 
 carriages, dogs, all must be sold ; every plea- 
 sure I have in life given up ! There is nothing 
 before us but a miserable existence. Eoyden- 
 burst must be sold." 
 
 " Oh, Papa, ! sold ! But Eichard ? 
 
 "Richard!" he exclaimed. "His debts 
 must be on his own head. Think only of 
 your mother. "VThat will selling Roydenhurst 
 be to her ? — a death blow ! The entail must 
 be cut off, and every acre of the property sold 
 out of the family, unless " — he looked ear- 
 nestly in her face — " you save it. Consent 
 to marry Fortiswood — he loves you — and has 
 most liberally offered to make Roydenhurst 
 your marriage portion." 
 
 " Oh, don't, Papa, please don't ask me. I 
 cannot marry him. I could never like him, 
 he is so dreadful." 
 
20 ROYDENHUEST. 
 
 " Dreadful," repeated her father. " I don't 
 know what you mean. As to looks, he is 
 quite good looking enough for any woman ; 
 And as to age, he is but three or four years 
 older than yourself. I really can't see what 
 you object to in him." 
 
 " Everything, Papa ; indeed, I feel that it 
 is quite impossible I could ever marry him." 
 
 "Absurd," said her father, angrily. '' Be- 
 cause you don't feel some sentimental non- 
 sense at once, you won't try to like him. 
 Will it be no happiness to you to be the 
 means of saving your family from ruin ? 
 Fortiswood has, I repeat, made the most 
 liberal offers in the way of settlements ; by 
 your consenting to become his wife, your poor 
 mother will be spared the shock of hearing 
 anything about the entail." 
 
 Jane was silent. She knew that anything 
 she said would increase her father's anger. 
 
 They had walked on until they had nearly 
 reached the end of the park, when the crack- 
 
EOTDENHUEST. 21 
 
 of a whip, and a loud voice halloaing to a boy 
 to " open the gate, you rascal," attracted 
 their attention. 
 
 The gate opened, a man dressed in shoot- 
 ing costume rode up to them. 
 
 "Halloa," he exclaimed. " This is luck. 
 Why, Miss Culverton, your coming to meet 
 me to-day makes my heart thump for joy ! 
 By Jove it does ! " 
 
 Sir Godfrey, not feeling quite at ease at 
 this speech, and wishing to soften his friend's 
 voice and manner, remarked — 
 
 " That is a fine horse, Fortiswood. Where 
 did you pick him up ? " 
 
 " Why, quite by chance. Sir Grodfrey. A 
 fellow was riding him along the road. I took 
 a fancy to him, and swopped my old hack and 
 the broken-winded mare for him. A good 
 plan, Miss Jane, isn't it ? " he said. " Always 
 get rid of the old before you take on with the 
 new." And he laughed loudly at his own 
 joke. 
 
22 EOTDENeURST. 
 
 It was impossible slie could walk away, for 
 her father, seeing she became very pale, had 
 drawn her arm within his, and wishing to 
 say a few words to her alone, he said — 
 
 " Let me see his action, Fortiswood ; gallop 
 him round the park, will you ? " 
 
 Then looking at his daughter, he said — 
 
 " Jane, promise me you will not give 
 Fortiswood a decided refusal to-day. Delay 
 is of consequence to me. Say you will, at all 
 events, do this for me." 
 
 She had only time to murmur '*' very well," 
 before Mr. Fortiswood came galloping up to 
 where they stood, exclaiming in a loud 
 voice — 
 
 " The brute has a bit of the devil in him, 
 if you pitch into his flanks. By Jove, how he 
 goes head foremost over ditches, or anything 
 that comes in his way. Now, Sir Godfrey, 
 suppose you mount him, and leave me to talk 
 over matters with Miss Jane." 
 
 " Oh, no, don't go. Papa," she exclaimed. 
 
EOYDENHURST. 23 
 
 as her father withdrew from her side. " Pray 
 don't leave me. Papa." 
 
 He heeded her not ; but with one bound 
 in the saddle, he was riding away, leaving his 
 daughter and Mr. Fortiswood together. 
 
 "Now, Miss Jane, won't you take my 
 arm?" 
 
 " No, sir, I don't require one," and she 
 walked impatiently towards home. 
 
 " I dare say. Miss Jane, I smell of tobacco, 
 I hope you don't mind it. I don't mean to 
 get out my pipe now ; but you see, I puffed 
 away so hard at it all this morning, thinking 
 of my love for you, that you see it clings to 
 me just like that does. But, 'pon my soul, 
 Miss Jane, you may depend upon it, it won't 
 end all in smoke with me ! I have already 
 told you that you shall have as much money 
 as ever you want. I have lots of it. Miss 
 Jane. My father left me a good fortune, and 
 an old aunt, also ; they were very prudent 
 people, and 'tis a pity others ar'n't so, too." 
 
24 EOTDE^'HUEST. 
 
 Poor Jane Culverton, during this speech,, 
 seemed to have gained supernatural strength. 
 She walked faster and faster. 
 
 " Come," he said, "we shall get to the 
 house before anything is settled. Say you will 
 be my wife." 
 
 " No, Mr. Fortiswood ; I — I cannot." 
 
 " Cannot ; why ? Your father gives his 
 consent." 
 
 '' Pray, do not ask me," she said. 
 
 " Yes ; but I must know if you mean to 
 give me no hope. Do you know the state of 
 your father's affairs ? He is a ruined man, 
 Miss Jane. This very estate will have to be 
 sold to pay his debts, or at least, the rever- 
 sion of it, after his death ; but then, look at 
 your father's age ; he can't be more than 
 fifty odd ; call it a twenty years' purchase. 
 'Why, that would not be a deshable invest- 
 ment to many. But I am already one of 
 your father's chief creditors; it is easy to me 
 to take the estate on bond. And, Miss Jane^ 
 
EOYDENHURST. 25' 
 
 what I propose is to settle it after upon you, 
 if you will consent to be my wife, it shan't 
 go to the hammer clean out of the family. 
 I tell you that I love you, Miss Jane ; and 
 what more can a man say or offer than I 
 have?" 
 
 She remained silent. 
 
 Again he repeated — 
 
 " What more can I say ? I am not a bad 
 fellow. You will always find me a sober 
 man, and I don't gamble away my money — 
 what can I say more ? " 
 
 " Nothing," she murmured. 
 
 " Then you will ? " 
 
 She did not reply, for she was thinking of 
 her father's last words, and her hurried pro- 
 mise to him. 
 
 '' I see you hesitate. Miss Jane. Now this 
 is giving me some hope." 
 
 "No, no," she exclaimed; "not — not — " 
 
 " Not to-day," he said, finishing her sen- 
 tence. " But you will think of it, and I will 
 
26 EOYDENHURST. 
 
 ride over again. You won't say anything 
 more to-day ? " 
 
 '' No," she said, in a low tone. 
 
 " Yery well; that is giving me some hope 
 to live upon until — what day shall I say ? 
 This is Tuesday ; I'll say Saturday. That is 
 a long time for me. Miss Jane." 
 
 They had reached the Hall door. She did 
 not answer him ; but, glad to escape, hastened 
 to her room, where, overcome with sorrow 
 and fright, she sobbed as if heart would 
 break. 
 
 After some little time she rose from her 
 chair, and began to think how to conceal 
 from her mother her agitation. 
 
 She was preparing to go down to her, 
 when her little sister Laura came bounding 
 joyously into the room, holding something in 
 her hands. 
 
 ''See, Jane," she exclaimed; "I have 
 •caught this darling robin. Has he not a beau- 
 
EOYDENHURST. 27 
 
 tif ul red breast ? " Then looking up in her 
 sister's face she said, " But oh, you have been 
 crying, Jane." 
 
 Away flew the robin out of the window, for 
 her little hands, which had held it so close a 
 prisoner, were all at once thrown round her 
 sister's neck. 
 
 " Oh, tell me, is dear Mamma very ill ? Is 
 she worse ? " 
 
 " No, Laura, she is not worse ; I hope she 
 is a little better to-day." 
 
 " Then what do you cry for, Jane ? I wish 
 you would tell me everything. I wish that I 
 was a woman." 
 
 Jane smiled at the child's simplicity, and 
 thought how strange it was that children's 
 peculiar ambition was age, while we envy 
 them the sweet innocence of childhood, which 
 makes the flowers smell so sweet, so diffe- 
 rent, and all things in nature appear so mar- 
 vellously more wonderful and beautiful than 
 
28 EOYDENHURST. 
 
 they do after tlie cares and storms o£ life Lave 
 blunted our sensitiveness for these simple 
 pleasures. 
 
 Lady Culverton had lost two daughters 
 before the birth of little Laura, who was her 
 youngest child, and now eight years old. This 
 accounted for the difference in age between 
 the sisters. 
 
EOYDENHURST. 29 
 
 CHAPTER lY. 
 
 When Mr. Fortiswood left Jane Culverton at 
 the Hall door, he took a circuitous walk round 
 the park, the sun shone out brightly on the 
 distant woods, showing to advantage the 
 noble mansion, standing in its well kept 
 pleasure grounds ; he stopped to look around 
 him, and a smile of intense satisfaction crossed 
 his countenance, as he thought of one day- 
 being the owner of such a fine place ; he did 
 not, however, long dwell on the extreme 
 beauty of the landscape before him, but fixed 
 his attention on a distant cluster of fine oaks. 
 " By Jove ! " he said to himself, " that 
 timber will fetch a good figure. I must have 
 a nearer look at it in a day or two, it must 
 be mine at once to fell or not, as I like. I'll 
 
30 EOTDENHUEST. 
 
 see if I can't turn out that young Oxford 
 puppy, witli his fine jokes at every one, lie 
 shan't show his face here again, if I can help 
 it, but not till I get her answer, shall I tell 
 the Baronet my intentions ; she is coming 
 round, don't despair. Bob Fortiswood, first 
 get the lady, then the estate, and then good- 
 by to the heir. I'll snap my fingers in his 
 face." 
 
 By the time he had made these reflections 
 he arrived at the stables, where he found Sir 
 Godfrey, who said to him — 
 
 '' I like that horse of yours, Fortiswood, he 
 carries his head well; there," pointing to some 
 splendid looking horses, "those are all for 
 Tattersall's ; I am going up to town. To tell 
 you the truth," he said, drawing him aside, 
 " I'd better be out of the way for a week or 
 so. My son's bills are out, and there's the 
 devil to pay ! But what's your chance with 
 my Jenny, heigh ? Has she come down from 
 her high horse ? By Jove ! she is a proud 
 
EOYDENHURST. 31 
 
 one, never fear. ' Faint heart never won fair 
 ladj,' as I am always telling you, Fortis- 
 wood." 
 
 " Well, I tliink, Sir Godfrey, Miss Jane is 
 coming round ; she did not refuse me tliis 
 time, in fact 1 did not like to pull lier in too 
 hard, so I gave her the rein, and let her take 
 her time," and then he gave a loud laugh at 
 his joke. 
 
 " What ! is she going to consider the 
 matter ? " asked the Baronet. 
 
 " Yes, and I have agreed to ride over on 
 Saturday afternoon for her final answer." 
 
 " I wish you good luck, but you have rather 
 astonished me. By the by, Fortiswood, take 
 a hint, my good fellow, don't talk of ' swopp- 
 ing ' and ' broken winded mares ' before her ; 
 it nearly swamped your chance, I can tell 
 you ; I saw that by the frown and curl of her 
 
 lip." 
 
 " Thanks, Sir Godfrey," he replied, as he 
 mounted his horse. " I'll take your hint as 
 
S2 BOTDENHURST. 
 
 my horse will take this," and so saying he 
 with anger gave him so smart a cut with his 
 whip, that the animal, startled by it, reared 
 up, and then galloped furiously down the 
 park road. 
 
 "Ah!" muttered Mr. Fortiswood, "his 
 Oxford bills are out, are they ? so much the 
 better for me — they'll keep him off these 
 premises till I have settled matters to my 
 liking." 
 
 While Mr. Fortiswood was thus buoying 
 himself up with hope, and consulting* his 
 lawyer on the value of Sir Godfrey's life, and 
 the Eoydenhurst estate, poor Jane Culverton 
 was with a heavy heart and troubled mind 
 trying to find out her duty! Sometimes 
 thinking she ought to sacrifice herself for the 
 sake of her family, then the horror of such a 
 step would come back more forcibly each 
 time she thought of him; thus the days 
 passed on in perplexity, until at last the 
 morning on which he was to appear, arrived. 
 
EOYDENHTJRST. 33 
 
 She had shut herself up in her room, 
 determined to write a refusal, rather than 
 see him again ; she was thinking over it, 
 when the handle of her door cautiously turned, 
 and in walked her brother. 
 
 '' Oh ! Richard," she exclaimed. 
 
 " Hush, Jane, where is my father ? I must 
 see him, he has not honoured my bills, and I 
 am in a pretty strait." 
 
 " When did you arrive ? Papa is not at 
 home." 
 
 "The deuce he is not, then what am I to 
 do ? when does he come back ?" 
 
 " I don't knoAV ; what do you want ? " 
 
 " Why, money of course ! " 
 
 '' Oh, Richard ! what again ? How much 
 do you want ? will ten pounds do ? " 
 
 " Ten pounds ! no, nor yet a hundred ! It 
 is a great shame of my father, after sending 
 Catchall to get me to sign lots of papers, on 
 the promise that he would pay off my bills, and 
 advance me cash, to leave me in this lurch." 
 
 VOL. I. D 
 
34 EOTDEN HURST. 
 
 '' Oil, Richard ! Papa is so embarrassed 
 himself, things are in a dreadful state, I'm 
 afraid," here her agitation overcame her, and 
 she burst into tears. 
 
 " The devil he is ! Why, what's the matter ? 
 Jane, you know more than you have told me 
 of my father. You don't mean that fellow 
 Fortiswood is prosecuting for payment ? " 
 
 " I don't know ; something I suppose of 
 that sort, but oh, Eichard ! " and then 
 between tears and sobs she told him of his 
 offer. 
 
 " Confound the fellow's impudence, but 
 what does my father say to it ? " 
 
 " Oh, that is so dreadful, Richard. Papa 
 is afraid of ruin." 
 
 " What ! if you refuse," he said, '' he is 
 such a low style of fellow ; one would not 
 mind his ruddy face and sandy hair, if he was 
 not so confoundedly the farmer in origin ; 
 then, to be sure, Jane, he is rich as a Jew, and 
 as you say, he tacks a good lump of money 
 
EOYDENHURST. 35 
 
 on to the conditions, why really it might not 
 be a bad thing to do, after all, taking matters 
 into consideration, you see." 
 
 " Oh, Richard, don't talk in that way ; 
 surely you would not like to see me his wife ? 
 I could never love nor even respect such a 
 man." 
 
 " It's not necessary, I suppose, to love the 
 man ; you can be civil to him, and for the 
 sake of his wealth, condescend to take his 
 name ; to tell you the truth, Jane, I suspected 
 he was ogling my father out of something by 
 his ready loans. You, I suppose, are the 
 object ! well, I can't say I admire your farmer 
 lover," and he burst out laughing. 
 
 " Oh, Ei chard, how can you be so cruel." 
 
 '* Cruel, Jane ! I really don't mean to be 
 that, but — why, look here, it seems to me 
 that for love of you, Fortiswood means to 
 save us all from rack and ruin ? I'll promise 
 you that if he does, I'll turn over a new leaf, 
 and once clear of debts, will keep out of them. 
 
36 ROTDENHUEST. 
 
 Come, Jane, think it over in a pliilosophical 
 light, think of the good you can do for your 
 family; and so it is you after all that he wants, 
 not, as I at one time fancied, the estate." 
 
 At this moment Lady Culverton's bell rang. 
 
 " There's my mother's bell, Richard, I 
 must leave you." 
 
 '' Well, don't be long away, we must settle 
 this business, and I hope you will make up 
 your mind to accept Fortiswood; did you 
 say he was coming for his answer to-day ? " 
 
 " Oh, yes, I fear this afternoon ; what shall 
 I do ? what shall I do?" she almost moaned 
 aloud, as she prepared to leave the room. 
 
 For some time Richard Culverton sat 
 swinging his chair backwards and forwards, 
 meditating ; at last he rose, and seizing his 
 hat, he sauntered off to the stables where he 
 fell in with a favourite old huntsman, from 
 whom he learnt much of the statistics of 
 the hunting establishment, and the departure 
 of the "best of the lot" for sale. 
 
EOTDENHURST. 37 
 
 The old huntsman added, "he did not 
 know what was going next. The Derby day- 
 was a bad job, he feared, for master." 
 
 Eichard did not stay to hear more, he 
 guessed a crisis had come ; he strolled into 
 the park, and then beyond to a favourite 
 knoll of trees ; a winding path led to the top 
 where it might be called the " cemetery for 
 deceased pets." Here many an old dog and 
 horse were buried ; on one side there were 
 some very fine oaks and large trees, here on 
 the other side was a high perpendicular bank, 
 at the foot of which lay a stagnant green pond. 
 When he reached the top, he observed a man 
 among the trees, with his back towards him, 
 apparently reading ; he watched him, when he 
 discovered he was taking notes of the trees, 
 measuring them, and counting the number ; 
 as he approached nearer he was astonished 
 to find the man to be Mr. Fortiswood, who 
 was so intent on his calculations, that he did 
 not see or hear him approach till he called out. 
 
38 ROYDENHUEST. 
 
 " Halloa, Farmer Fortiswood, wliat are you 
 doing here ? " 
 
 Startled, lie suddenly turned round, and 
 reddening with anger at the sneering taunt 
 conveyed in young Culverton's voice and 
 address, he replied — 
 
 " What is that to you ? Mind your own 
 affairs, and I'll mind mine." 
 
 Nettled by this insolent speech, Richard 
 Culverton in an angry tone, exclaimed — 
 
 " I should like to know, sir, what you're 
 marking those trees for, and by what right 
 you are trespassing here, sir ? " 
 
 '•' I have as much right here as yon, I 
 suspect ; creditors won't wait for ever ! I 
 like to know the security for my money, and 
 to look before I leap, and into bondage too," 
 and he laughed insolently at his joke. 
 
 " What do you mean to insinuate, sir ? " 
 said Culverton, getting hot with anger. 
 
 " What do I mean by ' bondage,' eh ? 
 Why, I mean shortly to be your brother-in- 
 
KOTDENHURST. 39 
 
 law, and when your fatlier is tired of life, to 
 step into your birthright !" 
 
 Young Culverton's rage got the better of 
 him; maddened now by passion, he rushed 
 upon his adversary, suddenly seizing him by 
 the collar, exclaimed — 
 
 " You are a d — d, vulgar, low-bred fellow, 
 how dare you insult my sister by presuming 
 to think of her ; your cursed money may 
 give you every acre of the estate, but before 
 you, you coarse vulgar fellow, marry my 
 sister, I'll see you at the bottom of that — " 
 and here with a sudden movement, and great 
 personal strength, he precipitated him into 
 the middle of the stagnant pond below. The 
 green weed receded, then gathered round 
 him, and as he got on his feet and rose above 
 the water, he looked like some unknown green 
 monster rising from the deep. Young Cul- 
 verton, from the high bank above, partly 
 through rage, and partly at the ludicrous 
 figure his adversary cut, stood laughing im- 
 
40 EOYDENHURST. 
 
 moderately, and insultingly called to liim — 
 " Oh, you green monster, you look before you 
 leap, do you ? Ah, ah, ah ! a deuced nice 
 mess you're in ; a nice figure truly you 
 would appear now before your lady love — 
 shall I go and prepare her ? Ah, ah, ah ! " 
 
 And then young Culverton having given 
 way to his wrath in the contemptuous in- 
 sulting speeches, hurried back to the house, 
 and at once to his sister's room, where he 
 found her in tears. 
 
 " Jane," he said vehemently, '' I had rather 
 see you dead, than the wife of that cursed 
 scoundrel." 
 
 She looked at him in dismay ; his excited 
 manner alarmed her, and the sudden turn his 
 views had taken, puzzled her. 
 
 " Don't be afraid of that vulgar fellow 
 coming here to-day, I've given him such a 
 ducking, he won't forget it in a hurry, but I 
 have no time to lose ; I am off to-night, Jane. 
 Can I see my mother ? I must see her, I leave 
 this place for ever.'* 
 
EOYDENHURST. 41 
 
 " Oh, Ricliard ! Good lieavens, what have 
 you done ? " 
 
 " What have I done ? Ask my father what 
 he has done; sold my birthright," he said in 
 a bitter tone ; " since I was in this room last, 
 I have seen and learnt enough to know that, 
 and how that wretch Fortiswood has been 
 playing the devil with my father. Now listen 
 to me ; promise me, Jane, promise me that 
 you will never marry that fellow ; let no en- 
 treaties of my father, nothing he may say or do, 
 induce you to accept him ; promise me this." 
 
 Jane remained silent. 
 
 " "What ! " he vehemently exclaimed, '' you 
 don't mean that you really after all care for 
 the man ? " 
 
 " Oh, no Richard, I hate him, and despise 
 him, and dread the very sight of him. I was 
 only thinking of my mother, need she be told 
 anything ? " 
 
 '' No, but I must tell her that I am going 
 away — come, you have not made me the 
 promise, Jane — " 
 
42 EOTDENHURST. 
 
 " Indeed then, Eichard, I will, and oh, 
 it's like a reprieve to me, after all I have gone 
 through since you were here this morning, 
 thinking over all you said." 
 
 " Better, Jane, let the wretch have the estate 
 without you, than with you, for have it he 
 will, that is after my father's death, and I 
 swear to you Jane, that I shall never set foot 
 in England again." 
 
 " Oh, Richard, stop, don't say that — "' 
 He interrupted her. 
 
 " Yes, I will ; do you think I'd be in the 
 same country, and know that scoundrel was 
 the owner of this place ? I'd rather be hanged 
 first. But now I have to collect my traps, go 
 and prepare my mother. Does she know 
 that 1 am here ? " 
 
 " Yes, she has been asking for you ; she is 
 rather better to-day, pray be careful what 
 you say to her ; it will be better, if possible, 
 to avoid mentioning the state of affairs." 
 
 " Very, well, come to my room when she 
 is ready to see me." 
 
EOrDENHUEST. 43 
 
 CHAPTER Y. 
 
 The aspect of a sick room, even to tlie most 
 light-hearted or worldly visitor, changes his 
 thoughts and feelings in one moment. 
 Richard Culverton, whose lieart beat with 
 passion and revenge only an hour ago, is now 
 sitting by his mother's bed, subdued and 
 softened, shocked to see the change for the 
 worse in that loved face. In spite of the 
 ravages which ill-health and anxiety had 
 made on Lady Culverton, there could still be 
 traced a marked resemblance to the beautiful 
 portrait over the dining-room fireplace, but 
 now the peculiar brilliancy of her eyes, the 
 soft hectic colour, and wasted form, told too 
 plainly that Lady Culverton was in the last 
 stage of consumption. Holding her son's 
 hands within hers, she feebly said — 
 
44 EOYDENHURST. 
 
 " But tell me, dear Richard, what are you 
 going to do ? " 
 
 " Get away from here as fast as I can, 
 mother, from confounded duns, which my 
 father promised to pay, but he has not." 
 
 A sigh escaped Lady Culverton. 
 
 " I mean," she said, "Richard, what are 
 jou going to do to help yourself ? You can- 
 not afford to be idle all your life." 
 
 " No, but nothing can be done here; it 
 will be better for me to go away out of this 
 country." 
 
 " Why, surely Eichard, there must be 
 some way for you to pay off your debts in 
 time ? You will be three-and-twenty next 
 month ? " 
 
 " True, mother, but I have made up my 
 mind to go abroad ; I mean to America, or 
 Australia, and try my luck in something out 
 in a new country." 
 
 Lady Culverton sighed deeply, and for a 
 little time was silent ; presently she said — 
 
EOTDENHURST. 45 
 
 " I fear your father is in trouble, he has 
 once or twice hinted to me about difficulties^ 
 as if some crisis was what he feared; perhaps 
 Richard, this is why he has not fulfilled his 
 promise to you, he is waiting for something 
 to be settled." 
 
 Eichard remembered his sister s caution to 
 say nothing to his mother of their father's 
 affairs, and so he merely replied — 
 
 " Perhaps it is so, mother, but I am sure it 
 will be in every way better for me to go 
 abroad." 
 
 Again poor Lady Culverton sighed, and 
 pointing to her desk on the table, she told 
 him to place it before her ; she first took out 
 some old copy books, she smiled as she 
 smoothed his face with her poor thin hand, 
 and said, opening one of the copy books which 
 was written in a child's lars^e handwritincr — 
 
 " How I have treasured these, Richard, do 
 you remember your little journals when you 
 were my pupil in writing ? " 
 
46 EOTDENHURST. 
 
 " Yes, clear motlier, and what a famous 
 long journal I shall have to send you home 
 from Austraha ! I will, indeed, mother, keep 
 one, and send it home too, somehow or other, 
 see if I don't." 
 
 Alas ! she thought, I shall never live to 
 see or to read it, and then, overcome with the 
 thought of never seeing her son again in this 
 world, she wept bitterly. The sight of his 
 mother s grief touched the spring of good 
 still flowing in Eichard's heart, he bent over 
 her pale face and kissed her tenderly. 
 
 " Mother," he said in a low voice, "forgive 
 me." 
 
 She pressed his hand, and for some time 
 neither of them spoke. At last he said — 
 
 " Indeed, mother, away from all my Oxford 
 companions, I will do something for myself, 
 but I cannot remain here ; not another day 
 if I can help it." 
 
 She took out of her desk a pocket-book, 
 and placed it in his hands, telling him " it con- 
 
EOYDENHTJRST. 47 
 
 tained £300, which she had intended to give 
 him on his birth-day ; it would now help him 
 to begin his new life." She then took a locket 
 from her neck, and putting it round his, told 
 him " never to forget his mother, or his once 
 happy home." Promising to write to her, 
 Richard Culverton left his mother's presence, 
 .and his father's house that night. 
 
48 EOTDENHURST. 
 
 CHAPTER YI. 
 
 Like some green monster, struggling on to 
 the bank, Mr. Fortiswood at last got out of 
 the pond, cursing, swearing, almost yelling 
 for vengeance ; he rolled on the grass as the 
 only means to extricate himself from the 
 green duck- weed which clung to him. He 
 then made his way to the gate, at which he 
 had fastened his horse ; here his savage rage 
 vented itself on the animal, who reared and 
 kicked in return, so that he had some diffi- 
 culty to mount. 
 
 " I'll chouse that infernal fellow out of the 
 estate, before another week is over," burst 
 continually from his lips, as he rode furiously 
 along, nor did he stay on reaching home to 
 change his dripping clothes, but immediately 
 
EOTDENHUEST. 49 
 
 sat down to his writing table, and wrote to 
 lawyer Catcliall, *' to lose no time in at once 
 closing for the reversion of the Roydenhurst 
 estate," and, perhaps, aware of his lawyer's 
 slowness about business, he threatened to 
 employ another lawyer if he showed any 
 slackness about the matter. 
 
 " There," he muttered as he closed his letter, 
 " I'll be hanged if that cursed heir shall 
 ever claim one acre of the property. He is a 
 d — d puppy, with his infernal sneers and 
 jokes." 
 
 A night's rest did not improve either Mr. 
 Fortiswood's temper or his bodily aches, 
 which now assailed him ; and to add to his 
 annoyance, Mr. Catchall's clerk sent word 
 to say that his master had gone from home 
 for a month's holiday. 
 
 " Confound him, I'll not wait ; the London 
 lawyers shall do it." 
 
 Impatient for revenge beyond endurance, 
 he wrote to the Baronet, who, he very well 
 
 VOL. I. E 
 
50 EOYDENHURST. 
 
 knew, with the prospect of an immediate 
 cheque for £10,000, would lose no time in 
 setting the lawyers to work. He told him 
 Catchall was not to return home for at least 
 a month, and he particularly wished the busi- 
 ness to be all settled at once. Certain papers 
 which might be required, he told the clerk at 
 Catchall's office to send up to London. 
 
 The fear now began to haunt him of the 
 ducking story getting abroad, and being a 
 lasting joke and laugh against him, among 
 the sporting gentlemen. This made him the 
 more passionately fly to action, with the 
 desire to be doing something towards revenge. 
 
 A severe cold, which he caught from not 
 sooner changing his clothes, ended in a rheu- 
 matic fever, which for several weeks confined 
 Mr. Fortiswood to his bed. 
 
 During that time events had taken place at 
 Roydenhurst, which he hoped might favour 
 his cherished wish. 
 
 These were, the flight of the son and heir. 
 
EOTDENHURST. 51 
 
 and the death of Lady Culverton. She never 
 rallied after the trial of parting with her son, 
 but gradually grew weaker, and died a month 
 after he left the house. 
 
 To Jane Culverton her loss was irrepar- 
 able. They had been together, more like 
 sisters than mother and daughter. 'Now she 
 seemed to stand alone in the world. Her 
 brother fled, her father often angry and un- 
 kind at her positive refusal to marry Mr. 
 Fortiswood. She was thankful, however, to 
 have her little sister, who had been so ten- 
 derly confided to her care by her loved mother 
 to tend and cherish. 
 
 In order to screen them from her father's 
 sporting friends, she determined to establish 
 themselves, with their faithful nurse, in another 
 wing of the house, remote from that part in- 
 habited by her father. Here she could neither 
 hear, see, nor be seen by his usual guests ; 
 and since her mother's death Mr. Fortiswood 
 appeared more than ever to be one of them. 
 
 LIBRARY 
 
 UNIVERSITY OF ILLINOIS 
 
52 EOYDENHURST. 
 
 Another cause of anger witli her father was 
 her refusal to sit at the head of his table 
 when his sporting friends were in the house. 
 Naturally reserved in manner, for her sister's 
 sake she became more so. 
 
 She could not bear the innocent, youthful 
 Laura should be hurt by foolish, flattering 
 speeches and remarks, too often made to 
 children, which, like insidious weeds, some- 
 times take too deep root ever to be wholly 
 eradicated. 
 
EOTDENHUEST. 53 
 
 CHAPTER YII. 
 
 Between the lawyers and Mr. Fortiswood, 
 Sir Godfrey Culverton s affairs were settled. 
 For the remainder of his life he was to hold 
 possession of Roydenhurst. And this en- 
 abled him to bear up against the shock of his 
 ruined estate. 
 
 The lawyers pointed out to him that it was 
 absolutely necessary to reduce, not only the 
 outlay of the hunting establishment, but 
 everything which had been so long carried on 
 with reckless extravagance. 
 
 It was fortunate the Baronet had no power 
 over his wife's fortune. The little fortune 
 she had, at her death, became her daughter's, 
 so that Jane Culverton was independent of 
 her father. 
 
54 ROTDENHURST. 
 
 Time passed on. Excepting an occasional 
 annoyance and stormy words from her father, 
 nothing occurred to break the monotony of 
 her life. The education of her little sister 
 was a source of happiness, and the child's 
 merry, lively disposition helped to cheer her 
 in her quiet, almost prison life, which, under 
 the present circumstances, it might be called. 
 
 An event, however, one day offered itself, 
 in the prospect of a visitor! Mrs. Prescott, 
 who had been her former governess, and to 
 whom she was much attached, proposed a 
 visit to Roydenhurst, on her way home from 
 Ireland. 
 
 She was the widow of a medical man, and 
 before her marriage she had lived some years 
 in the Culverton family. Although Mrs. 
 Prescott was now somewhat elderly, yet she 
 was so bright and cheerful, and had so much 
 to say, and so much to do, that she might 
 have been taken for any age below forty, but, 
 in point of fact, she was between sixty and 
 seventy. 
 
EOYDENHURST. 55 
 
 Her warm heart knew what sympathy her 
 young friend wanted to rouse her out of a 
 sort of lethargy which had taken hold of her. 
 She endeavoured to lead her thoughts away 
 from her home surroundings, and its trials, 
 by a pleasant flow of conversation to subjects 
 of interest, relating to her anecdotes of 
 people she had met with, and their various 
 characters, and of places of note she had 
 visited. 
 
 Thus the good lady's social temper and 
 good plain sense did much towards restoring 
 Jane Culverton to better health and spirits. 
 Then, too, in the companionship of Mrs. 
 Prescott, their rambles were extended over 
 the beautiful grounds without the fear of 
 being followed and persecuted by Mr. Fortis- 
 wood. 
 
 " My dears," she said one day to the 
 sisters, " if I thought you could put up with 
 an old woman like me, with only one little 
 maid, I should like very much to ask you to 
 Sutton. You know E live in a humble cottage." 
 
56 KOYDENHUEST. 
 
 Jane assured her that there was nothing 
 she should like better, but she would defer 
 the pleasure until next summer. 
 
 " Well, my dear, you shall have a hearty 
 welcome at any time ; but Sutton is not a 
 pretty place, not like my old village, where 
 my father and mother lived. Longworth is 
 one of the prettiest villages in England ; but 
 I have not been there for some time, and I 
 dare say there are changes." 
 
 " Where is this pretty village ? " asked 
 Jane. 
 
 " Longworth, ray dear, is in Devonshire, 
 on the banks of the beautiful Eiver Exe. I 
 don't know if the old Eector is still alive ; 
 but he must be a very old man if he is yet 
 living." 
 
 While they were walking along thus in 
 desultory conversation, a telegram was 
 brought to Mrs. Prescott, the purport of 
 which was to hasten her return home to 
 Sutton. 
 
ROYDENHURST. 57 
 
 " Now, mj dears, I shall not forget your 
 promise to pay me a visit, either this year, 
 or, in fact, whenever you like. Just let me 
 know a few days before, that I may not be 
 leaving home." 
 
 Jane thanked her, and, affectionately kiss- 
 ing her and Laura, Mrs. Prescott got into the 
 carriage and drove away. 
 
 A few days after her departure, it was 
 with mixed feelings of pleasure and pain that 
 Jane welcomed a letter from her brother 
 Richard. It was addressed to his mother, of 
 whose death he had not heard. 
 
 The letter was very short, telling her that 
 he was in Australia, and going up the country 
 to try his luck at sheep farming; begging 
 her forgiveness for all the anxiety he had 
 caused her, and telling her he should not 
 forget his promise to send her home his 
 journal. 
 
 Short as this letter was, Jane treasured it. 
 It confirmed what she had always believed. 
 
58 EOTDENHURST. 
 
 that her brother's heart was good ; and 
 away from his former reckless companions, 
 affection for his home, and the thoughts of 
 his mother's tenderness and early teachings 
 would return. Such affections can never 
 wholly be lost, however wild and profligate a 
 man may become, if when a boy he was 
 brought up under the watchful eye of his 
 mother. Some time or other her influence 
 will revive, and love, deep love for her, will 
 bring such remorse that, what would he not 
 give to be again the boy at her side ! 
 
 Oh, mothers ! bring up your sons carefully 
 and lovingly, teaching them in boyhood to 
 have a reverence for Religion ; it is your influ- 
 ence which will be their greatest safeguard. 
 
EOTDENHURST. 59 
 
 CHAPTER YIII. 
 
 The sisters were again confined to their own 
 localities. Their little garden was entirely 
 their own. Here they spent many an hour, 
 without any fear of intrusion ; but they often 
 wished to change the garden for more distant 
 scenes. 
 
 Another year had glided on, and spring, 
 with all its beauty, had begun to show itself, 
 bringing with it a greater desire for liberty 
 to roam about the lovely woods and glens. 
 
 One evening their old servant told them 
 that she had heard Sir Godfrey giving orders 
 to have the breakfast laid the following morn- 
 ing for a large party of gentlemen, and it was 
 to be veryearly, for they were to start directly 
 after for a distant meet. The dinner hour,. 
 
60 ROYDENHURST. 
 
 too, had been put off, as it was not expected 
 they would be back before six o'clock. 
 
 This was an opportunity of which Jane 
 determined to take advantage, and to enjoy 
 a day's ramble in the woods. 
 
 Accordingly, no sooner on the following 
 morning had the huntsmen left the house, 
 than the sisters sallied forth to the woods, 
 with a basket containing their luncheon. 
 
 " Oh, liberty ! sweet, delicious liberty," 
 little Laura kept singing, as she ran about 
 from one glen to another, like a young fawn, 
 collecting ferns, or filling her basket with 
 wild flowers. 
 
 It was a delightful day, the air so soft 
 and warm, and long they lingered in the 
 woods, until the absence of the sun warned 
 them it was time to bend their steps towards 
 Tiome. 
 
 As they came within sight of the house they 
 were surprised to see men and horses stand- 
 ing before the hall door — what could it 
 
ROTDENHUEST. 61 
 
 mean ? Surely the huntsmen could not come 
 back so early. 
 
 They hastened on by a path which led to 
 the side door. It was no sooner opened than 
 the servant told them Sir Godfrey had met 
 with an accident ; he had been thrown from 
 his horse in the hunting field, and had been 
 brought home insensible. 
 
 Jane, without waiting to take off her walk- 
 ing dress, but casting aside her hat, almost 
 flew up the stairs, nor did she stop to notice 
 the gentlemen she encountered in the passage, 
 who were hovering about, but hurried on to 
 her father's room. 
 
 Here she found their nurse standing by his 
 bedside. 
 
 Jane did not speak a word, for as she bent 
 over his prostrate form, she thought her 
 father was dead, and in that moment love and 
 sympathy filled her heart; and to think of 
 how often she had obstinately opposed him, 
 was now agony to her. 
 
62 EOTDENHURST. 
 
 Again and again she kissed liis death-like 
 forehead ; she felt she would have consented 
 to do anything he wished, if she could only 
 bring him back to life. 
 
 As she laid her head down by his side, 
 sobbing sounds told how deeply she was suf- 
 fering. 
 
 A kind hand rested gently on her shoulder, 
 and the words reached her — 
 
 " Miss Culverton, let me examine your 
 father." 
 
 " Oh, Doctor Fuller, I am so thankful you 
 haveco^ie; but — but — " she could hardly 
 say the words, " is it too late ? " 
 
 "With what intense anxiety she waited in 
 the little dressing-room, listening to catch 
 any sound of movement in her father's room. 
 At last the old nurse came to tell her that 
 the Doctor wished to see her. 
 
 He told her that her father was not dead, 
 but his head had suffered by the fall. At 
 present he could not say to what extent the 
 
EOTDENHURST. 63 
 
 injury might lead. Perfect quiet was all- 
 important, and he had given the nurse direc- 
 tions what to do. 
 
 Jane entreated to be allowed to watch by 
 his bedside. 
 
 To this the Doctor demurred ; but seeing 
 her so urgent, he at last consented, on con- 
 dition the nurse remained close at hand. 
 
 It was an anxious night. The sufferer 
 remained insensible. When in the morning 
 the Doctor arrived, he found that he had 
 fallen into a heavy sleep, from which it was 
 impossible to say whether he would ^wake to 
 consciousness. 
 
 She held her father's hand in hers, and 
 every now and then she fancied she felt a 
 slight twitch. At last he opened his eyes. 
 Did he know her ? Yes, she thought he did. 
 
 Presently he tried to speak ; but " ruin," 
 *' my daughters," were the only words she 
 heard. 
 
 She gave him a cordial which Dr. Fuller 
 
64 EOTDENHUUST. 
 
 had ordered. Again he appeared to fall 
 asleep. She sat down, with her face close to 
 his, to catch every sound. Once he opened 
 his eyes and looked at her. 
 
 " Jane," he said, " when I am dead every- 
 thing must go. Drop my name ; promise me 
 you will." 
 
 She was afraid to hesitate, lest by doing 
 so she might irritate him, so she answered — 
 
 " I will, dear father." 
 
 " Don't call me dear. I have been a bad 
 husband, and a cruel father. Forgive — oh, 
 Jane, here, come closer — Richard — a letter." 
 
 He became exhausted, and for some time 
 lay almost insensible. Then again restless, 
 struggling to speak ; but Jane could not 
 understand him. She wished he would not 
 attempt to speak, he was so exhausted after it. 
 
 In the evening he got worse. As she 
 leant over him, he fixed his eyes with a look 
 of tenderness upon her, and she caught the 
 words — 
 
EOTDENHIJEST. 65 
 
 " I no longer wish you to — to — " 
 She could only guess the rest, for his 
 speech became quite incoherent. He never 
 spoke again, but died the following day in 
 his daughter's arms. 
 
 vol.. 1. 
 
66 BOTDENHUEST. 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 What a shock and revolution of feeling was 
 experienced by all, as tlie tidings of Sir God- 
 frey's deatli spread ! 
 
 Then followed lamentations for his loss, 
 and sympathy for his " misfortunes," as his 
 reckless extravagance was now more chari- 
 tably called. Eegrets that the fine old place, 
 the pictures, and every memorial of the 
 ancient family were now to fall into the hands 
 of a man of no education, and of low origin. 
 
 Many were the surmises as to what would 
 be the result now of Fortiswood's proposals 
 to Miss Culverton. 
 
 The termination of that day of pleasure 
 into one of gloom and sorrow, cast a feeling 
 of awe especially on those who recollected 
 
EOTDENHUEST. &7 
 
 how SO short a time ago laughter and merri- 
 ment echoed through the old hall from the 
 large gathering of horsemen who, passing in 
 and out, loudly expressed their enjoyment in 
 prospect of the day's run ; while out of doors 
 the barking of dogs, the cracking of whips, 
 grooms with their horses, all joining in the 
 excitement of the coming meet. 
 
 Now, how quiet the house had become all 
 at once. Everything was changed ; but the 
 old chime clock, which had for years stood in 
 one corner of the hall, continuing to tell out 
 the quarters in cheerful strains, warning 
 active, restless man, who is for ever changing 
 scenes, to prepare for the next, whether of 
 weal or woe, duty, pleasure, or business. 
 
 Time changes all things but itself. So, 
 whether life or death, mirth or silence reigned 
 in the house, the old clock cheerfully chimed 
 on in spite of the solemn stillness around. 
 
 The funeral was attended by a numerous 
 circle of the Baronet's friends, many of whom. 
 
68 EOTDENHTJRST. 
 
 no doubt, thought more of their own indi- 
 vidual loss of a pleasant house, a jovial board, 
 and an ever-ready welcome, than the real loss 
 of its master. 
 
 Jane Culverton was almost stunned bj 
 overwhelming sorrow, and it was several days 
 before she could subdue the fits of agony 
 which overcame her. At last, recalled to the 
 necessity for exertion, by the recollection of 
 her father's affairs, and her own position now 
 in that house, she set herself the task of 
 writing to Mrs. Prescott, accepting her invi- 
 tation at once to Sutton, with her little sister, 
 and faithful nurse, she told her that even- 
 tually they should probably go abroad. 
 
 There was much to be done. By her 
 mother's request her father had given her 
 many little relics and treasures which had 
 been her mother's — all her plate and 
 trinkets. 
 
 Jane had not yet felt strong enough to 
 yisit her father's library; but anxious to see 
 
EOYDENHUEST. 69 
 
 if there was a letter for her brother any- 
 where, she determined to delay the painful 
 task no longer. Every object around her 
 brought thoughts of childhood's happiness ; as 
 she wandered on through the lofty, silent 
 hall, the clock struck out its cheerful chimes, 
 which quite startled her, so forcibly were 
 those sounds connected with her early im- 
 pressions of childhood, when she almost 
 reverenced them as something mysteriously 
 beautiful. And now how vividly they recalled 
 to her mind little incidents of her brother's 
 happy boyhood ; his loved face and merry 
 voice. 
 
 With a sad heart she hastened to the 
 library. Ko sooner had she turned the 
 handle of the door than she paused, seeing 
 two figures seated before a table covered with 
 papers and letters. 
 
 They were so absorbed in their conversa- 
 tion that they did not hear her as she closed 
 the door and hastened away. 
 
70 EOYDENHURST. 
 
 The following morning she made a search 
 for the letter ; but finding no trace of one, 
 she began to think her father meant she was 
 to write to inform Richard he was ill, per- 
 haps, in his state, forgetting her brother's 
 flight. 
 
EOTDENHURST. 71 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 That revenge whicli Mr. Fortiswood had so 
 vehemently desired, had come at last, but 
 how much of its sweetness was lost in the 
 thought that his hated adversary was not 
 there to witness his triumph, nor he, the 
 pleasure of seeing the heir humbled ! Where 
 was he ? And when would he learn that the 
 event had taken place, which he knew would 
 for ever debar him the right to claim Eoy- 
 denhurst for his own ? These were questions 
 which no one could answer ; other thoughts, 
 however, soon took possession of Mr. Fortis- 
 wood's mind. In spite of Jane Culverton's 
 positive refusal, he had always encouraged a 
 belief that time, and her father's influence, 
 would bring her round, and now, that he had 
 
72 EOYDENHURST, 
 
 SO easily and suddenly come into possession of 
 the estate, lie was determined to try his suit 
 again. It might be thought strange, that so 
 low-born and uncouth a man as Mr.Fortiswood 
 should have fallen in love with so superior a 
 person as Jane Culverton, but how often it 
 happens that the low, uneducated mind, is 
 fascinated and spell-bound by the power of 
 beauty ! Her deep mourning added interest to 
 her appearance, and almost a death-like pallid 
 complexion set off those beautiful soft brown 
 eyes, in which there was an expression of 
 languor and sadness. She had refused to see 
 Mr. Fortiswood since her father's death, 
 requesting that any matters of business to be 
 referred to her, might come through the 
 lawyer, Mr. Catchall, who remained in the 
 house, and he had already told her that certain 
 papers and documents would have to be 
 resorted to, before surrendering possession. 
 " Have the London lawyers got the papers 
 and documents ? " asked Mr. Fortiswood, on 
 
EOTDENHURST. 73 
 
 meeting the lawyer, a few days after the 
 funeral. 
 
 " No, they affirm that Sir Godfrey took 
 them away from their office, they believe to 
 get his son's signature ; the papers were 
 never returned to them." 
 
 " Then where the deuce are they ? Where 
 are the Baronet's papers kept ? " 
 
 ''In an iron chest, in a cupboard in the 
 library." 
 
 " Then, I say, let us go there at once, and 
 take possession of them, and find out all we 
 want, before I try my luck again with Miss 
 Oulverton." 
 
 They were soon absorbed in their task, 
 turning over paper after paper, deeds, bonds, 
 parchments, but the one they were in search 
 of appeared not to be among them. Mr. 
 Fortiswood looked alarmed. 
 
 "Where the deuce is the document?" he 
 said ; another box was overhauled, but it was 
 not there. 
 
74 EOTDENHUEST. 
 
 " It can't be in this box, can it ? " That 
 was soon opened, and within lay a voluminous 
 looking parchment document. " Hurrah ! ' ' 
 exclaimed Mr. Fortiswood, " this is it, but 
 confound it, who the devil is to wade through 
 all this law here ? Let us look what this is 
 pinned to it, a letter directed," and he read — • 
 
 " To Richard Culverton, to be delivered to 
 him or his heirs after my death," signed 
 '' Godfrey Culverton, Bart." 
 
 Eagerly Mr. Fortiswood, without the least 
 compunction of honour, opened and read it ; 
 the effect it produced on him was to cast an 
 almost fiendish look at the lawyer ; every 
 feature in his face betrayed agitation, as he 
 gave utterance to — 
 
 " D — n, you — you — you knew of this ? " 
 
 " Knew of what ? " asked Mr. Catchall in, 
 amazement. 
 
 " 2%af," he said pushing the letter to him,, 
 and while the lawyer read the following, 
 lines, Mr. Fortiswood overwhelmed him with 
 
EOTDENHURST. 75 
 
 a torrent of abuse, smarting under tlie belief 
 that lie bad been duped by bim : — 
 
 " Dear Richard, — 
 
 ''Your poor motber entreated me 
 not to cut off the entail ; sbe seemed to bave 
 an impression that you would some day or 
 otber realise a large fortune in tbe new world. 
 I believe she dreamt once or twice this was 
 the case; however, she was so urgent with me 
 about the matter, that I had a proviso made 
 in the sale of the reversion, which will give 
 you or your heirs, the power to redeem the 
 property within twenty-five years of my 
 death. Your mother's remains will be 
 interred to-morrow. 
 
 " Your affectionate father, 
 
 " Godfrey Culverton, Bart. 
 
 " Roydenhurst, 18-." 
 
 " What does this letter mean ? Sir ! you 
 must have known of this proviso to — to — " 
 
76 EOTDENHURST. 
 
 " No," interrupted Mr. Catchall, " I knew 
 nothing of it, but I can understand how it 
 has happened, and you have yourself to thank 
 for it." 
 
 " That's a lie, sir ! I never was told a word 
 about it," he shouted out with passion. 
 
 " But the lawyers in London Sir Godfrey 
 employed, sent you down the documents to 
 read over ; for some reason known only to 
 yourself, you suddenlyhurried on the business ; 
 you took it entirely out of my hands, and, 
 excepting to send me certain receipts for 
 moneys, you never even showed me any of 
 the documents." 
 
 " No, because you were away, and I was 
 not going to be put off a month, besides I 
 was ill, and I wanted it all done and settled 
 up." 
 
 " Yery well, and you wrote to Sir Godfrey 
 to push on the legal forms ; you sent him 
 money in advance, and when the documents 
 came down you put your signature, it appears, 
 
EOYDENHUEST. 77 
 
 without first looking them over, and there," 
 pointing to the letter, *' is the consequence," 
 the lawyer said in rather an injured tone. 
 
 " I don t care a rush for your d — d law, 
 the property is mine, I paid for it, and I'll 
 keep it too, whether that fellow," looking at 
 the letter, " wants it or not." 
 
 " In a Court of Equity, that document 
 would not stand ; the signature of the son, 
 Richard Culverton, is wanting," said the 
 lawyer. 
 
 " What the devil has it to do in a Court of 
 Equity ? Who is there to contest the validity 
 of my possession ? The money is paid. Sir, 
 Godfrey was satisfied, and the heir by his 
 flight, considers the thing done." 
 
 "Yes, no doubt," replied the lawyer, "he 
 believed one of the papers I got him to sign 
 was that." 
 
 " Very well then, I say again who is there 
 to dispute the validity of this ? The women, 
 if you mean them," said Mr. Fortiswood, 
 
78 EOTDENHURST. 
 
 " have notliing to do with the entail property, 
 I suppose." 
 
 Mr. Catchall's solid countenance relaxed to 
 something like a faint smile, at the young 
 man's conclusive hypothesis, and he re- 
 naarked — 
 
 " There would be certain legal investigations 
 in the event of your selling the property, 
 which—" 
 
 '' Pshaw ! " interrupted Mr. Fortiswood, 
 " if that's all, I shall never sell, you may de- 
 pend upon it, as long as that fellow Culverton 
 lives." 
 
 '' That is not the only consideration ; now 
 that I am in possession of these facts, I must 
 deliberate upon them, as to how far they will 
 bear on my — my — my business, in fact my 
 position," said lawyer Catchall, looking 
 earnestly at the young man, who began to 
 see that he was completely in the lawyer's 
 power, and wishing to conciliate matters, he 
 said, with somewhat a softer tone — 
 
EOTDENHURST. 79 
 
 " You are my lawyer, after all, these 
 documents remain in your hands only ; this 
 secret will be only between ourselves, and 
 I'll take care you shall not suffer by holding 
 your tongue ; it's not cheating that, the money 
 is all paid, as I said before. Come," said 
 Mr. Fortiswood, whose opinions on the nice 
 question of right and wrong, were not of a 
 high standard, " come over and dine with me 
 to-day, I'll give you a good dinner, and some 
 capital wine, and something better, too, I'll 
 give you a bond for £5,000 whenever I 
 want you to make that legal by a scratch of 
 your pen. I mean," he said, " when I want, 
 if ever I do, to sell the property." 
 
 Mr. Catchall had struggled into business 
 in the small town of Royden, when by the 
 sudden death of Sir Godfrey Culverton's 
 man of business, he was fortunate enough to 
 get a lift, and through his advertisement, 
 Mr. Fortiswood purchased the estate which 
 brought him into the neighbourhood. 
 
80 * EOYDENHURST. 
 
 Mr. Catchall thoroughly enjoyed a good 
 dinner, in fact he was a hon vivant, a 
 bachelor, slow in movement, slow in judg- 
 ment, he loved ease and time to deliberate 
 over matters ; one thing he definitely settled — 
 
 " I had better have the box with all these 
 papers and documents taken at once to my 
 office." 
 
EOYDENHUEST. 81 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 There is a saying that " no man has so much 
 care as he who endeavours after the most 
 happiness." Although Mr. Fortiswood had 
 the desire of his heart in the early possession 
 of an estate he so much coveted, yet he was 
 not contented ; his mind was ill at ease, 
 because his inordinate ambition had not been 
 satisfied to its full extent. 
 
 One morning, Jane Culverton received a 
 message from Mr. Catchall, requesting per- 
 mission to see her in the library. Believing it 
 to be the last interview, and that it was to 
 tell her the day on which Mr. Fortiswood 
 would claim possession, she at once proceeded 
 to the room ; it was unoccupied, and she sat 
 down to wait for the lawyer. Presently she 
 
 VOL. I. a 
 
82 EOYDENHURST. 
 
 heard steps approacliing, wlien tlie door 
 opened, and to her great annoyance and dis- 
 may, her persecutor entered ; she instantly 
 rose from her seat, and said — 
 
 " Mr. Fortiswood, this is an intrusion, sir," 
 and she was about to leave the room, when 
 he placed himself against the door, saying — 
 
 " Jane Culverton, I entreat you to hear 
 me. I am here to repeat my offer, has not this 
 unlooked-for. event changed your feelings ? 
 Again I ask you to become my wife ? all this 
 shall be—" 
 
 ** Stop, sir," she said, " you have already 
 had my answer; my determination is the 
 same." 
 
 " But can't you reconsider it. Miss Jane ? 
 'pon my soul, I love you more than ever; 
 and if you marry me, I'll neither mention 
 your father's debts nor his — " 
 
 " Speak not to me, sir, of my father, whom 
 you helped to ruin, nor annoy me by repeat- 
 ing your offer again." 
 
BOYDENHURST. 83 
 
 " I ruin him ! Come, I like that, when I 
 lent him money scores of times. Do you not 
 care for the family estate being lost? It 
 shall be yours, every acre of it, Jane Culver- 
 ton, only say ' yes ' to my offer." 
 
 She made an attempt to reach the door. 
 
 " Mr. Fortiswood, this is ungentlemanlike 
 conduct to keep me bere against my will ; I 
 request tbat you will let me leave the room." 
 
 " Will you relent ? " 
 
 ''Never, sir." 
 
 " Never ! that's a long time. Miss Jane ; 
 but where shall you go ? perhaps — " 
 
 She interrupted him by saying — 
 
 " I beg you will not annoy me further, by 
 attempting to see me again." 
 
 " Will you give me any hope ? " 
 
 "None, none whatever, sir; again I 
 request that you will let me leave the room." 
 
 " Well then," he said, " you will be under 
 my roof; to-morrow I shall legally take 
 possession," then opening the door, he added. 
 
84 ROYDENHTJRST. 
 
 loud enougli to reacli lier, as she retreated 
 through the hall, "since you obstinately 
 refuse me and Eoydenhurst, I swear that 
 this place shall never again belong to a Cui- 
 yerton." . 
 
 Trembling in every limb, she reached her 
 own room, a shower of tears came to her 
 relief, she saw that there was no time to be 
 lost in preparing for immediate departure ; it 
 was evident, after what had just occurred, 
 she could expect no help or sympathy from 
 the lawyer. She wrote to prepare Mrs. 
 Prescott for their arrival; she told her of the 
 wish so earnestly spoken by her father of 
 dropping his name, and that she believed it 
 would be the only plan to escape from per- 
 secution and further annoyance. She then, 
 under the superintendence and direction of 
 the worthy old nurse, Mrs. Tims, whom she 
 had taken into her confidence, packed and 
 arranged everything, and before the sun rose 
 the following morning the sisters had left 
 
EOYDENHURST. 85 
 
 their home — the home of their ancestors. 
 "No one knew where they were gone, but it 
 was generally believed that they had gone 
 abroad. 
 
S6 EOYDENHURST. 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 The wind and rain liad been beating against 
 the window panes all day, and notliing was 
 to be seen in tlie little town of Sntton but 
 umbrellas lifted high over umbrellas carried 
 low, tlie rain came pattering down on the 
 pavement with a frying sound, putting water- 
 proofs and oil skins to the test, defying the 
 hardy pedestrian to loiter on the road. 
 
 *• Oh dear, oh dear, what a dreadful day 
 the ladies have for their journey," said Mrs. 
 Prescott to her little maid. " Ah, well," 
 she thought, " may be it is better and kinder 
 of the sun not to shine ; this gloom and rain 
 is more in unison with their feelings, poor 
 things ! " 
 
 Then she bustled about to see that every- 
 
EOTDENHURST. 87 
 
 thing was in order, although nothing ever 
 was out of order in that house. The coming 
 of the ladies from Roydenhurst was a great 
 event, and to think that her humble home 
 would now be of use to them in their trouble, 
 was a great happiness to the kind-hearted 
 old lady, who as the evening drew on was 
 all alive with expectation. How many times 
 sh6 sent the little maid upstairs to stir the 
 ladies' fire, how often the good old lady put 
 down her knitting to draw aside the curtain 
 and listen for the sound of wheels, and when 
 at last there could be no mistaking it, how 
 she hastens to brighten up the fire and light 
 the candles, and is in all readiness at the door 
 to embrace the tired travellers, who, after a 
 cold gloomy journey, from early dawn until 
 the shades of evening had disappeared and 
 darkness prevailed, were thankful to be 
 ushered into her little room, where the bright 
 flickering of the fire and preparations for tea 
 on the table, showed a kind thoughtf nines s 
 
88 EOYDENHUEST. 
 
 and sympathy in tlieir hostess, which, was 
 very soothing to their sad hearts. 
 
 " I am an old-fashioned woman, my dear 
 ladies, and my house is a very humble one, 
 very different to what you, poor dears, have 
 been accustomed to — but I hope you will be 
 comfortable and happy with me." 
 
 " I am sure," replied Jane, " everything 
 is so nice and pretty here, it will be our own 
 fault if we are not so." 
 
 Weeks passed on and nothing occurred to 
 disturb the quietude which Jane Godfrey, 
 for that was the name she had adopted, was 
 enjoying in the society of her old friend; she 
 began, however, to think it time to settle her 
 plans for the future ; her first idea was to go 
 abroad, but she did not feel equal to the 
 excitement ; on account of her health, she 
 wished to choose a home in a mild climate, 
 and recollecting Mrs. Prescott had mentioned 
 some place in Devonshire, she one day asked 
 her some questions about that county. 
 
EOTDENHUEST. 89 
 
 " It is, my dear," she replied, " a beautiful 
 county, and I think tlie climate might suit 
 you. I wish you could see my favourite 
 village, Longworth, it is on the banks of the 
 Exe, and, in my day, a great place for fisher- 
 men, who used to stay at the old inn, but it 
 is many years ago since I lived there with 
 my father and mother, and now I see in to- 
 day's paper that the old rector is dead.'* 
 
90 EOTDENHUEST. 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 LoNGWORTH is One of tlie many pretty vil- 
 lages on the banks of the River Exe, which 
 the traveller, in the old coach days, was wont 
 to notice as he passed through it on the high 
 road to Exeter. 
 
 The cottages, chiefly low and thatched, 
 were many of them trim and gay, the little 
 patches of garden before the doors being 
 thickly studded with flowers of many hues — 
 here and there an opening down to the 
 river brought the woods and banks on the 
 opposite side into view, making it very pic- 
 turesque. 
 
 The inhabitants were at this time some- 
 what in a state of excitement as to who would 
 succeed their late Rector, who had lived up- 
 wards of fifty years amongst them. 
 
EOTDENHUEST. 91 
 
 When a man dies who has been a sort of 
 landmark in one spot for a great number of 
 years, till few are left who remember any 
 other, however old that man may be, or how- 
 ever long his death may have been expected, 
 there is a shock, a revolution of feeling ex- 
 perienced by all around him — an unwilling 
 conviction that with him a link of their own 
 life is gone ; old associations, old customs, 
 old friendships departed — ^a change is about 
 to take place ? 
 
 Such were the feelings of the parishioners 
 of Longworth, as the church bell continued 
 to tell of their old Rector's death to far and 
 near. 
 
 Few men like change of any sort — especi- 
 ally those of Longworth, who had had their 
 own way foi* many years — the late Rector 
 having been very easy about his duties. 
 
 He was not a bad-hearted man, his joviality 
 of disposition springing from an early love of 
 country life, and rural sports being his chief 
 
"92 ROTDENHUEST. 
 
 delight and occupation made him choose the 
 Church for his profession, believing that in a 
 quiet country parish he should be able to 
 follow the tastes and pleasures to which he 
 was accustomed. So, with a little Latin and 
 Greek, and a very small stock of Theology, 
 he became in due time a parish priest, and 
 -was presented to the living of Longworth, 
 ivhere, he believed, if he let things remain as 
 he found them, quarrelled with no man, gave 
 to the poor when they wanted alms, and kept 
 the farmers up to mending the roads, he was 
 doing his duty satisfactorily. 
 
 His gown, ragged and brown with age, 
 hung during the week on the back of a pew, 
 which served as vestry, was on a Sunday 
 jumbled on, his arms sometimes thrust 
 through a rent in mistake, which was sure to 
 raise a titter among the juveniles. 
 
 The old Clerk used to get out of his box 
 by the reading desk, and mounting to the gal- 
 lery, seated himself in the centre of it ; then 
 
EOTDENHUEST. 93 
 
 taking Ms liuge bass-viol from between his 
 legs, began tuning it, saying to his choir, 
 *' A pitch too high," or " a pitch too low,'* 
 before giving out in the loudest possible tone 
 the anthem about to be sung. 
 
 It was no matter to the Rector if the 
 singers quarrelled amongst themselves and 
 refused to sing at all ; he thought the service 
 did very well without music. But if, on the 
 contrary, they liked to bring any number of 
 instruments, he never noticed either the want 
 of harmony or reverence to the church. 
 
 When the parents complained that their 
 children learned nothing from old Dame 
 Goneby, he would only say — 
 
 *' Learn ! what do they want to learn ! 
 She can teach them the Commandments." 
 
 Such was the state of things in the parish 
 when Death, the great monarch of change^ 
 brought hope and fear, wonder and specula* 
 tion into the hearts of the living. 
 
 In the neighbouring rural districts light 
 
94 EOYDENHURST. 
 
 had burst, and spread its rays of knowledge 
 and improvement with increased force and 
 power every year ; it was, therefore, natural 
 that a change should be looked for at Long- 
 worth, but it would be hard work at first to 
 attempt to reform so neglected a parish, 
 where the principal inhabitants were of the 
 agricultural class, and required judicious 
 training to bring them to such a change — to 
 do away with old prejudices — to give up old 
 and irreverent customs, and to teach them 
 proper reverence for holy things. 
 
 " Who is to have the living ? Who will be 
 our new Rector?" 
 
 These were questions asked by farmers 
 and villagers, and at the blacksmith's shop, 
 the usual lounge for gossips, speculations 
 were going on as to who would have the old 
 Eector's nags and hunters, and there were 
 loud lamentations from Joe Anvil, who 
 feared that his "best days were over," and 
 *' 'twas likely to be a bad job for him." 
 
EOYDENHURST. 95 
 
 How true it is that a death seldom takes 
 place without giving rise to discussion, hope, 
 and doubt as to who will, or will not be bene- 
 fited bj it. 
 
96 EOTDENHUEST, 
 
 CHAPTER XIY. 
 
 The parishioners of Longworth were not long 
 in doubt wlio was to have the living. It was 
 soon known to have been presented to the 
 gentleman who had recently purchased the 
 Manor House and estate. 
 
 Mr. Hartleigh was a young man of good 
 family, and he was an earnest, conscientious 
 man, zealous in doing good, and his zeal was, 
 fortunately, tempered by discretion. He did 
 not rush at once into a reformation, but 
 wisely prepared the minds of his people. He 
 led them to see what his own duties and re- 
 sponsibilities were, and then he talked to 
 them of theirs. Thus his good sense, con- 
 sideration and feeling for his parishioners, by 
 degrees so worked on their understanding, 
 that many who had left the church from 
 
EOYDENHUEST. 97 
 
 ignorance or persuasion, now returned to it. 
 Then, too, to have a lady living at the Rectory 
 was a novelty, the former Eector never having 
 been married. 
 
 Mrs. Hartleigh's sympathy, her attention 
 and kindness to her people, gained for her an 
 influence over them. 
 
 G-reat curiosity and wonder were expressed 
 in and around the village to know who the 
 ladies were who had taken Rose Cottage — the 
 title of Rectory had been transferred to the 
 Manor House. 
 
 On one point all agreed — that they were in 
 every sense of the word " ladies," and that 
 quite satisfied the good Rector and his wife, 
 ■who thought themselves fortunate in having 
 so unexpectedly gained good tenants for their 
 cottage, as well as agreeable neighbours. 
 
 Some years have passed over the village of 
 Longworth. The church has been restored, 
 schools have been established, and the 
 Rector, now a middle-aged man, is becoming 
 
 VOL. I. H 
 
98 EOTDENHCTRST. 
 
 slightly bald, wbicli his wife declares is a 
 mark of dignity, and that for her part she 
 much prefers '' a bald head in an elderly 
 man," as she persists in calling the Kector, to 
 a " bnshy head of hair." 
 
 '* What are you pondering over, John ? " 
 asked Mrs. Hartleigh, as she seated herself 
 beside her husband. 
 
 *« Why this," handing her a paper. " Surely 
 the ladies have made a mistake ; they have 
 given me too much, it is only half a year's 
 rent that is due. I will call at the Cottage 
 this afternoon." 
 
 '*Well, that is easily settled," said his wife, 
 " and better than if they had not given you 
 sufficient, especially for the ladies, for now 
 they will find they are richer than they 
 thought. But come, John," she added play- 
 fully, ''you know now, you are very glad of 
 an excuse to go down to the Cottage." 
 
 " Well, Mary, yes ! I am interested in our 
 tenants there ; they are very superior people. 
 
ROTDENHURST. 99 
 
 Are they related to the Godfreys we met 
 abroad, I wonder ? " 
 
 "No," replied Mrs. Hartleigh, ''for I one 
 day asked the eldest, and it struck me that 
 she did not like the question, so of course I 
 asked no more. But it is strange they never 
 allude to their former life or family. I am 
 sure there is some mystery." 
 
 " Which you want to find out, Mary," said 
 the Rector. " Depend upon it, whatever the 
 mystery may be, there will be nothing to pre- 
 vent our liking them ; but rather it might in- 
 crease our sympathy. I have no doubt there 
 is some trial which has woven itself into the 
 early life of the eldest sister, and left its 
 shadows on her present life." 
 
 "Yes, I suppose that is it." 
 
 " I wish you would ask them, if you really 
 are going to the Cottage, John, to come this 
 evening. But I forgot, Mr. Courtley dines 
 here, does he not ? " asked Mrs. Hartleigh. 
 
 "Yes; but that need not prevent their 
 
100 EOTDENHTJEST. 
 
 coming, Marj ! Courtley is just the man to 
 appreciate them. He will at once discover 
 their cultivated tastes." 
 
 " Then do ask them to come," she 
 replied. 
 
 "Yery well," said the Rector, as he 
 gathered up his papers. " I'll tell them what 
 you say," and he left the room. 
 
EOTDENHUEST. 101 
 
 CHAPTER Xy. 
 
 Thr sisters at Rose Cottage felt that in adopt- 
 ing the name of '' Godfrey " they were not 
 entirely abandoning their father's name. 
 
 Laura's girlhood had been spent under the 
 watchful eye of her sister, in the quiet 
 routine of home duties and pleasures, un- 
 marked by any great event until the death of 
 her father. She had now passed her six- 
 teenth year, and the child, to whom Jane had 
 acted a mother's part, had imperceptibly 
 grown into a sympathising, loving com- 
 panion, a sharer in all her hopes and 
 troubles. 
 
 It was diflScult to say what it was that 
 made Laura Godfrey so sweet-looking, for 
 she could not be said to possess any regular 
 
102 EOTDENHUEST. 
 
 beauty. Her eyes were like her sister's, o£ 
 a soft brown shade, with a very gentle ex- 
 pression ; her hair, rich in colour, was always 
 exquisitely braided round her well- shaped 
 head. She was tall for her age. Perhaps 
 her chief fascination was her manner, so free 
 from affectation, so pleasing, and always so 
 bright and cheerful ; she was altogether a 
 graceful looking girl. 
 
 " How could I make such a mistake ? and 
 how sorry I am that Mr. Hartleigh had the 
 trouble to come down about it," said Laura. 
 "Yes, I forgot it was only the half-year's 
 rent. Well, really, Jane, now I am sure we 
 shall have enough to take us to the sea — a 
 little change of air will do you so much 
 good." 
 
 Jane Godfrey looked pale, and very much 
 as if a change of air would do her good ; but 
 having learnt from experience the mis- 
 fortune of not adhering to the old adage — 
 " Be just before you are generous " — she 
 
EOYDENHTJRST. 103 
 
 knew well there would be no real pleasure 
 or enjoyment in the long wished-for visit to 
 the seaside while there were any debts to be 
 paid. So, looking tenderly in the young girl's 
 face, she replied — 
 
 " My dear, you forget that we are in debt 
 to Mr. Briggs for this new carpet, and the 
 carpenter for several things he has done for 
 us, and until everything is paid, I don't 
 think, Laura, that we ought to think of 
 giving ourselves any expensive pleasure." 
 
 Poor Jane ! Had she not reason to fear 
 extravagance ? Did she not, too, well know 
 what misery and suffering the Avant of self- 
 denial had brought on her family. And now, 
 a fear lest this failing should spring up in 
 herself or sister, made her over-anxious when 
 any unusual expenditure was needed for 
 their little cottage in the way of furniture. 
 
 "Oh, you most prudent Janel' You are 
 always afraid of my being extravagant. Did 
 you not say, when you sprained your foot, 
 
104 ROYDENHUEST. 
 
 tliat I should be manager, liousekeeper, and 
 banker ? Well, yesterday I had a grand day 
 of bill-paying, and I paid Mr. Briggs, and 
 every bill, small or large, and now, let us see 
 what we have left." 
 
 " Yery little, Laura, I am afraid." 
 
 "No indeed, Jane, not so very little," she 
 replied, counting the contents of a little bag. 
 " Five and five are ten, and ten, twenty. 
 Why, twenty pounds ! That surely will be 
 enough for our trip ! " 
 
 "You are, indeed, a most wonderful man- 
 ager, Laura, and it is a puzzle to me where 
 you have learnt the art." 
 
 " Oh, of course, I consulted Tims about 
 things," she replied. " But don't you really 
 think now, Jane, we can afford this ex- 
 cursion ? " 
 
 " Yes, dear, I think we shall be able to 
 manage it, and we will ask our kind friends 
 at the Eectory what nice places there are 
 within an easy distance." 
 
EOYDENHURST. 1 05 
 
 " Mrs. Hartleigh told us, if you remember, 
 tlie other day, about Sea Cove. She said the 
 lodgings there were not expensive, and be- 
 sides, it will be so easy to get there, for she 
 ^said there is a coach goes once a week," said 
 Laura. 
 
 " Then let us decide upon going to Sea 
 Cove, and we will take Tims with us. You 
 know her old home was somewhere in that 
 direction; so you may, Laura, tell her our 
 plans." 
 
 '' Delightful ! Dear old Tims ! how de- 
 lighted she will be." 
 
 And Laura quickly went to look for '' old 
 Tims," as she called a very respectable, 
 motherly looking person who advanced to 
 ■meet her. 
 
 Mrs. Tims was one of those good, old- 
 fashioned domestics so rarely met with now. 
 She was born in the days of " no larning," 
 as she often said, for excepting her Bible 
 {and from daily hearing it read, she knew it 
 
106 EOTDENHTJEST. 
 
 mostly by rote) it might be said that she 
 could neither read nor write. But no one 
 had such a memory as Mrs. Tims ; she never 
 forgot anything, and it was wonderful when 
 she was sent into the town laden with all 
 sorts of commissions, how carefully she re- 
 membered them, and how accurately she 
 reckoned up all the little money transactions. 
 Her purely unselfish devotion to the Miss 
 Godfreys (for the name of Culverton was 
 dropped, even by her) was beautiful. That 
 they were deprived of the luxury and wealth 
 in which they had been brought up grieved 
 her much, and seeing Jane sometimes look 
 sad and anxious, made her constantly busy 
 in devising little comforts for them, it was 
 astonishing how this worthy Tims made 
 things appear to advantage in their humble 
 home. The small supply of plate was as 
 brightly kept as if the old butler still had 
 charge of it, and every little household orna- 
 ment which told of former days was guarded 
 by her jealous eye. 
 
EOTDENHUflST. 107 
 
 Mrs. Tims could scarcely believe " Miss 
 Laura" when she told her of their plan, and 
 not until she had heard the fact from " Miss 
 Jane," could she at all take it in. 
 
 " Dear me 1 Onlj fancy ! " said Tims,. 
 '' why I shall be up near to where I was 
 born, and to think I shall see my sister and 
 brother, why, 'tis more than twenty years 
 since I saw them last." 
 
 '' I am so very glad, Tims, to give you this 
 pleasure." 
 
 " But, Miss Jane, I don't think you and 
 Miss Laura would be comfortable in a lodging 
 without me to mind for you, so perhaps, after 
 all, I had better not let them know I am 
 coming so near." 
 
 " Oh, indeed, dear Tims," exclaimed Laura, 
 " you shall go to your brother's, I will do 
 everything that I can to spare my sister any 
 trouble. It will quite spoil our pleasure, 
 Tims, if you do not go over to Redhill to 
 see your old home again." 
 
 *' Thank you. Miss Laura — well — we will 
 
108 EOTDENHUEST. 
 
 see about it ; for certain, I should like to see 
 tliem up there." 
 
 About a fortnight after this conversation, 
 all preparations had been duly made, and the 
 little party was ready for the expedition. The 
 coach usually started from the village inn, 
 but thoughtful Tims had persuaded the 
 coachman to drive up to the Cottage door, 
 where the ladies were waiting. 
 
 " Why, Tims, wdiere is your luggage ? " 
 asked Laura. 
 
 " Here — Miss — " holding up a parcel. 
 
 *' Oh, dear, how little it seems." 
 
 '' Because, Miss Laura, I thought to wear 
 my best frock (she always called her gown 
 a frock) and I have only taken my two 
 mornings, for I shan't be cleaning house 
 like — but here's the coach a-coming." 
 
 The Miss Godfreys took their places inside, 
 and Tims mounting to the box, looked 
 supremely happy by the coachman's side. 
 
 They are soon out of the village, and away 
 
EOTDENHURST. 109" 
 
 they go, up hill and down hill, leaving mile 
 after mile of country far behind them. 
 
 Jane is rather nervous at the fast driving, 
 whilst Laura, looking eagerly out of the win- 
 dow, takes notice of everything, and the fresh 
 morning air brightens the colour of her cheeks. 
 
 There is nothing in the way of travelling 
 half so delightful as the old stage coach and 
 four. The crack of the whip, the sound of 
 the horses' even tread on the hard turnpike 
 road, and above all, the famous horn, telling 
 the little villages that the all-important coach 
 is coming, all combined to render it far more 
 conducive to health and spirits than the 
 present railway travelling. 
 
 The country the coach passes through is 
 very pretty, but it is becoming bleaker ; pre- 
 sently the coach stops to change horses, 
 when the coachman comes up to the window, 
 and touching his hat, says good naturedly — 
 
 *' The old lady up by me wants very bad- 
 to know how the ladies is getting on." 
 
110 EOTDENHUEST. 
 
 "Very well, indeed, tliank you; are we 
 near the sea, now ? " asks Laura. 
 
 " JN'ot quite yet. Miss, about twelve miles 
 further," he touches his hat again, mounts 
 the box, and they are off. 
 
 " Jane, I hope you are not very much 
 fatigued." 
 
 " 'No, dear, thank you ; how fortunate we 
 are to have no fellow travellers." 
 
 Laura then produces her basket of sand- 
 wiches and wine and water, which greatly 
 revives them, and they are better able to look 
 about again with interest. 
 
 The village school is just out, away scamper 
 the children ; some running after the coach 
 and imitating the horn. Laura, who has 
 never seen the sea, is all eagerness to catch 
 sight of it. 
 
 " Oh, Jane ! look — there it is," at this 
 moment the coach provokingly descends the 
 Ml, and they lose the view of the sea. 
 Laura endeavours for some miles to catch 
 
EOYDENHUEST. Ill 
 
 another glimpse of it, and at last it fairly 
 bursts into view. 
 
 " How curious ! " exclaimed Laura, "why 
 it is just as if we were looking down into the 
 clouds, and as if we could almost pick one up, 
 tliey appear to be floating about below in 
 such various forms and colours. We must 
 be a great height above the sea." 
 
 " Yes, indeed we are, we have a very steep 
 hill to go down." 
 
 " Oh ! how delightful the sound of the 
 waves is." 
 
 The cheerful horn announces to every one 
 that the coach is fast approaching the little 
 town, and presently it is rattling over the 
 stony streets on its way to the principal inn ; 
 here landlord and landlady, ostler and bar- 
 maid appear, each intent on business. The 
 ostler flies to his horses, the barmaid to her 
 tap, and the portly hostess leads our some- 
 what tired travellers to the room which they 
 had ordered for that nio^ht. 
 
112 EOTDENHURST. 
 
 Tliose who are not accustomed to travelling 
 are often thrown into a state of feverish ex- 
 citement, and then it is — 
 
 " Wben Nature rests — oft in her absence, 
 Mimic Fancy wakes to imitate her." 
 
 This was the effect which the long journey 
 in the stage coach produced on Jane Grodfrey. 
 She fancied herself again at Roydenhurst, 
 again in her father's carriage and four, with 
 gaily decked postillions, who were taking her 
 she knew not whither. She awoke bewildered, 
 and starting up in her bed cried out — 
 
 '* Laura, where are we ? " 
 
 But Laura was gone ! She had been up for 
 the last hour, and had gone down to the sea 
 with Tims. Jane soon collected her senses, 
 and very soon Laura returned. Taking off 
 her hat, and shaking her head her beautiful 
 hair fell into its natural waves, she exclaimed — 
 
 " Oh ! it is so lovely down on the beach.'^ 
 
 '* You look very fresh and happy, Laura. 
 I hope the sea air has given you an appetite. 
 
EOTDENHUEST. 113 
 
 for breakfast is ready, and afterwards we liad 
 better see about lodgings." 
 
 '* Yes, Tims and I observed tbat there 
 were a great many to be let." 
 
 " It is getting late in tbe year, I suppose, 
 for tlie sea," said Jane, " but I always think 
 that September is the pleasantest time ; there 
 is not such a continual glare, and the clouds 
 and lights and shadows so beautifully vary 
 the colour of the sea." 
 
 '' I shall be glad when you begin to sketch, 
 Jane. How I shall treasure the sketches in 
 memory of this my first visit to the sea ! " 
 
 " If the weather continues fine I will 
 begin to-morrow. But now, make haste, 
 and let us go and inspect the lodgings. I 
 am not inclined, Laura, to walk very far." 
 
 '' The Esplanade is just at the end of this 
 street, and there is a beautiful view of the sea 
 from the houses there."* 
 
 «« Yery well, we will go there first, and 
 while we are absent Tims had better put up 
 
 VOL. I. I 
 
114 EOYDENHUEST. 
 
 our things, for we shall certainly not sleep 
 here to-night." 
 
 They soon reached the Esplanade, and 
 looked at a variety of " apartments to be 
 let." Some looked too dirty, others were too 
 expensive. So they walked on till they 
 came to the very last house, adjoining 
 which was a small cottage, covered with 
 myrtle, which attracted their attention. It 
 appeared to belong to the house, which had a 
 board outside it, announcing that there were 
 " Rooms to be let," as one little gate and 
 pathway led up to both. 
 
 ** Let us try here, Laura. Perhaps it may 
 be that sweet little cottage which has rooms 
 to let." 
 
 The door was answered by a clean, tidy 
 woman, who begged them to walk in, saying 
 the apartments were in the house, and she 
 would be happy to show them. 
 
 The rooms were better than any they had 
 yet looked at, and the terms moderate. So 
 
EOYDENHURST. 115 
 
 after a little consultation between the sisters, 
 the J agreed to take tliem for at least a week. 
 
 Tims arrived with the luggage, and every- 
 thing was settled for spending a pleasant 
 month at pretty Sea Cove. 
 
 They were very much tired, and went to 
 bed early; but alas ! not to sleep, for the 
 smell of smoking greatly annoyed them. 
 They had not noticed it till the windows and 
 doors were all shut up for the night ; when 
 the warmth of the room brought out strongly 
 the smell of old cigars, which clung to the 
 curtains. It was evident that they had suc- 
 ceeded to an inveterate smoker. 
 
 They passed a wretched night, and as soon 
 as breakfast was over next morning, they 
 sent for the landlady, to whom they made 
 their complaint. 
 
 " Oh, dear me ! ladies, I am so sorry ; 
 but indeed I had windows and doors open all 
 day, and curtains, and even carpets tooked 
 up and well shaken. 'Tis very hard upon 
 
116 EOTDENHTJRST. 
 
 me to lose my lodgers for all that. Times, 
 ladies, is very bad, and I see lots of boards 
 put out. The place be thinning fast." 
 
 '' Well, we are really sorry to distress you,'^ 
 said Jane." But the smell of tobacco makes 
 us both quite ill. If you could give us a 
 better room we would gladly stay with you." 
 
 " Well, ladies, I have a very nice room 
 upstairs, quite pure and clean ; a lady tooked 
 it for a month and only left it last week. If 
 you will allow me, ladies, I will get it all ready 
 for you by to-night." 
 
 " Thank you ; then we will try it." 
 
 The room proved to be very comfortable, 
 but the stairs were steep, which sadly tired 
 poor Jane's foot — she had never quite re- 
 covered from the sprain of her ankle last year. 
 
 However, as the landlady said so dolefully 
 " Times were slack," they were unwilling to 
 complain or leave her, until at last Jane's 
 foot became worse, and they were obliged to 
 speak again to her. 
 
EOYDENHtJEST. 117 
 
 " Law, ladies, if you will only stop till 
 Monday, our lodger at the cottage next door 
 is going away, and it is all one like with this 
 house, for it belongs to me ; so if you will 
 but stop two nights longer, it shall be all 
 ready for you by Monday." 
 
 Now, as the sisters had from the first 
 taken a great fancy to Myrtle Cottage, they 
 were delighted to accept the proposal. 
 
118 ROTDENHURST. 
 
 CHAPTER XYI. 
 
 The following day was briglit and fine. The 
 fishing smacks, pleasure boats, and bathing 
 machines were all drawn up on the beach at 
 Sea Cove, denoting that it was Sunday. The 
 sea was like a sheet of glass, so calm and 
 still, as if to that, too, a day of rest had come. 
 
 The Esplanade, however, appeared in the 
 possession of quite a different class of per- 
 sons — country people, come to enjoy their 
 holiday. 
 
 " I suppose," said Laura Godfrey, ''it is 
 not considered good taste to be walking here 
 to-day ; but it is very pleasant to see the 
 country folk so happy." 
 
 "Yes," replied Jane, "I quite agree with 
 you. We had better not take another turn. 
 
ROTDENHURST. 119 
 
 but find our way to the cburcb, for I hear a 
 bell." 
 
 "Yes; how strange," remarked Laura, 
 '' and it sounds so near to us ; but I see 
 nothing like a church. Had we not better 
 ask some one ? " 
 
 There was a respectable looking woman 
 standing at a sort of back door, whom they 
 accosted — 
 
 " Pray, can you tell us where the church 
 is?" 
 
 " Walk in, ladies," said sbe, opening wide 
 the said back door. 
 
 Jane and Laura looked dismayed, and then 
 up at the small square latticed windows, and, 
 giving a little start of surprise, Jane said — 
 
 '' Oh ! this a church ? " She thought that 
 the woman must have misunderstood her, 
 and that it was a Dissenting chapel they had 
 got into. 
 
 On advancing further their attention was 
 drawn to a monstrous object — an enormous 
 
120 EOTDENHUEST 
 
 bright gold lion and unicorn, supporting the 
 crown and arms, placed in the centre of the 
 Mayor's seat, and, not contented with this 
 mark of dignity, on each end of the seat was 
 another lion and unicorn ; but these, instead 
 of holding the crowu, w^ore it on their own 
 heads ! 
 
 The Mayor, when seated, was only visible 
 by a tuft of hair, seen above the very high- 
 backed pew. 
 
 It was very wrong of Lauira, but she could 
 not help smiliug, as she thought to herself — 
 
 " No doubt the lion and unicorn guard his 
 slumbers as well as his dignity." 
 
 On leaving the church, after the service, 
 she remarked to her sister — 
 
 " It is very evident that the churchwardens 
 at Sea Cove think a great deal more of State 
 than of Church." 
 
 " I wish," replied Jane, thoughtfully, "that 
 Sea Cove was not the only place of which that 
 might be said." 
 
EOYDENRTJHST. 121 
 
 On Monday afternoon the little party be- 
 took themselves to Myrtle Cottage, as tliey 
 had settled to do ; and almost immediately 
 on taking possession, Laura set to work to 
 improve the room, and give it a greater look 
 of comfort. She settled Jane on the sofa, 
 a luxury which the other apartment did not 
 possess, and then Mrs. Tims brought in tea, 
 which, for the first time since they left home, 
 they fully enjoyed. 
 
 " I told the landlady. Miss Jane, we did 
 not want her help at all, for I could do every- 
 thing required. She said ' very well,' so I 
 liope we shall have this place all to ourselves." 
 
 " Yes, it will be better for us as long as we 
 remain here. What a pretty picture that is 
 over the fire-place," remarked Jane. It was 
 the portrait of a lady, in a small oval frame. 
 
 " "Well," said Laura, "it was most fortu- 
 nate for us that ' Our Lodger ' (as I suppose 
 by this time our landlady styles us) went 
 away just at the right time ; for this really is 
 
122 EOTDENHUUST. 
 
 a sunny little room for our seaside excursion, 
 and I am sure we shall be very happy here, 
 and I hope to see you getting so strong and 
 well, Jane." 
 
 How cheerful and bright Laura was ! 
 thinking only of her sister ; nothing ever put 
 her out. She had a most happy way of look- 
 ing at the bright side of everything. 
 
 " I am going to see if Tims has unpacked 
 any of our books. There, now I think that 
 I have made you very comfortable," she said, 
 placing a shawl over her sister. 
 
 " Yes, indeed you have ; let me know when 
 our room is ready." 
 
 When Laura returned she said — 
 
 ^' Everything is so nice and comfortable- 
 upstairs; I think, after all, Jane," said she 
 gaily, " we must thank the cigars and the 
 stairs, although they have annoyed us, for 
 giving us this pretty little lodging." 
 
 Here Mrs. Tims came up to ask the ladies 
 if they wanted anything. 
 
 " No, thank you, Tims, and we hope that 
 
EOTDENHUEST. 12B 
 
 jou will find your bedroom as nice and com- 
 fortable as ours seems to be." 
 
 '' It won't take long, miss, to put me to 
 sleep, but Miss Jane, have jou got a bell in 
 your room ? " 
 
 ''No, I don't think there is one, but we 
 shall not want anything." 
 
 Mrs. Tims was not satisfied, " there ought 
 to have been a bell of some sort," she said ; a 
 bright idea struck her, and presently she 
 returned to her ladies with a tumbler and 
 spoon, saying — 
 
 '' I can't find no hand-bell anywhere, but 
 if Miss Laura will please to ring this with the 
 back of the spoon, I shall be sure to hear it.'*^ 
 
 *' Oh, Tims," exclaimed Laura laughing, 
 *' what a capital contrivance of yours, and 
 how musical the sound is," she added, play- 
 fully striking the glass. 
 
 " It will wake me for certain, miss, and 
 I'll come that moment," and wishing them 
 good night, Mrs. Tims left the ladies to their 
 slumbers. 
 
124 EOTDENHURST. 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 ISFow, " Our Lodger," as Mrs. Plumley called 
 her tenant at Myrtle Cottage, whose departure 
 was so opportune for the ladies, was a 
 gentleman of independent fortune ; his chief 
 residence was with an uncle in Kent ; he was 
 fond of the sea, and especially of the coast of 
 Devon, and having taken a fancy to Myrtle 
 Cottage, he became a permanent tenant, in 
 order to secure having possession whenever 
 he liked to come to Sea Cove ; his visits, how- 
 ever, seldom exceeded a month or six weeks 
 at a time, while the great distance from his 
 home, rendered them far between. As the 
 little cottage adjoined his landlady's house, 
 she took care of it in his absence, which saved 
 him the trouble and expense of keeping a 
 
EOTDENHUEST. 125 
 
 servant there. Unless speed was important, 
 he usually travelled on horseback, accom- 
 panied by his groom, who acted also as his 
 valet. 
 
 Philip Moreton, the gentleman in question, 
 was a fine good looking man, about six or 
 seven and twenty, and from the trouble he 
 took to avoid the fair sex — to shun in every 
 possible way their society — it was evidently 
 his intention to remain a bachelor all his 
 life. He was a thorough country gentleman, 
 delighting in the pleasures of field sports ; 
 he was a good fisherman, often riding from 
 one river to another in search of his favourite 
 sport. 
 
 On the morning that he left Sea Cove, he 
 rode as far as Exeter, where business detained 
 him for some hours, and it was late in the 
 afternoon before he started again. After 
 riding some five or six miles, he remembered 
 that he had forgotten to take with him an 
 important packet, and suddenly he said — 
 
126 EOTDENHTJRST. 
 
 " Halt ! I liave forgotten sometliing ; we 
 must return to Sea Cove," and putting their 
 horses to a sharp trot, they were clear of the 
 towD, and on their way back to Sea Cove. 
 
 The groom was accustomed to his master's 
 laconic ways, he required implicit obedience ; 
 he was kind and considerate, but he could be 
 stern and angry enough when deceived. 
 
 The night was fine, and the moon shone 
 brightly, as they entered the little seaport. 
 At the principal hotel where Mr. Moreton 
 kept his horses, he alighted, and giving the 
 bridle to his groom, said — 
 
 " John, be ready to start again by day- 
 break," he then walked slowly on to his little 
 cottage — his cottage. JN'ow, when he got to 
 the door, he took out his key (he always let 
 himself in) and went, as he was accustomed to 
 do, straight into the little kitchen, to get a 
 light. Here all was as usual, then he walked 
 upstairs, intending to deposit his knapsack, 
 ready packed for starting, in his spare room. 
 
EOTDENHUEST. 127 
 
 He turned the handle of the door, but found 
 it was locked; he supposed, however, that 
 this was Mrs. Plumley's precaution, and 
 proceeded to Lis own room at the end of the 
 passage ; here, to his utter dismay, he heard 
 loud and deep snoring ! It was like that of a 
 man, so he opened the door, but no sooner 
 had he done so, than various articles of female 
 attire met his eyes. He turned away, and 
 fairly bolted off as fast as he could ; seizing 
 his whip, which he had laid on the little 
 table in the hall, he hurried to the next door, 
 at which he commenced knocking furiously ! 
 Mrs. Plumley hearing the noise, instantly 
 guessed what had happened, and trembling 
 with dismay, prepared to go down ; no sooner 
 had she opened her door, than Mr. Moreton 
 entered the house, angrily exclaiming — 
 
 *' Mrs. Plumley ! I have caught you ! You 
 have dared to take lodgers into my cottage ! 
 You have deceived me ! " Then in his anger 
 he took his whip from his pocket, but as if 
 
128 EOYDENHURST. 
 
 recollecting liimself, he placed it on tlie table, 
 adding — 
 
 "I am exceedingly annoyed; you have 
 broken your agreement, taken advantage of 
 my departure — to — I call it cheat me ! " 
 
 " Oh, no sir, indeed, no sir, not that sir^ 
 I am very sorry this has happened ;" then 
 brushing away the tears from her eyes, she 
 added again, " indeed, sir, I never thought to 
 cheat you — " 
 
 " Who, I say, have you dared to let into 
 my cottage ? " 
 
 " Oh, sir, please to forgive me — indeed, 
 sir, it is only two ladies and their maid — " 
 
 " Ladies! " he exclaimed, and was about to 
 take up his whip again. '' Ladies, did you 
 say ? Mrs. Plumley, I'll never forgive you 
 for this. Why they will never know when 
 to go — they will be always in my way, and 
 very likely wanting to take the cottage. 
 Pray, why could you not keep your lodgers 
 id yourself ? I dare say, often before this, 
 
EOTDENHURST. 129 
 
 you have made my cottage suit the con- 
 venience of your lodgers — thank goodness I 
 I have found your plan out at last." 
 
 " No, indeed, sir," pleaded the penitent 
 landlady. '' I never did such a thing before, 
 sir; I did my best to make the ladies com- 
 fortable in this house, but they objected to 
 the stairs, and the last lodger, sir, was a 
 terrible smoker, and the ladies, sir, couldn't 
 abide the smell." 
 
 " And pray, am I to suffer for all your 
 smoking lodgers ? " 
 
 *' Well, indeed, sir, I hadn't the heart to let 
 the ladies go away ; and I understood, sir, as 
 you was gone for weeks." 
 
 '' You have no business to understand any- 
 thing about my movements." 
 
 ''Well, sir, they shall go to-morrow if you 
 will please to forgive me this once ; for I 
 never offended you before, and never — no, 
 never — will I let anybody in there again." 
 
 Now, perhaps Mr. Moreton was a little 
 
 VOL. I. K 
 
130 ROTDENHUEST. 
 
 more tender-hearted than he thought he was, 
 and being somewhat moved by Mrs. Plumley's 
 repentance, he quietly said — 
 
 " Yery well ; let them go to-morrow." 
 
 He had been thinking how he could get the 
 packet which he had come back for from the 
 cabinet in the sitting-room. Nobody else 
 could do this, as it was in a drawer opened 
 by a spring, of which he alone knew the 
 secret. 
 
 After some meditation he went to the cot- 
 tage door ; but fearing that if he was heard 
 he might encounter the owner of that female 
 attire, he went back, took off his boots, and 
 as quietly as possible proceeded to the sitting- 
 room. 
 
 The door was open, and the fire, which 
 Laura thought she had put out, was still 
 burning. Although but a few cinders re- 
 mained, they cast a comfortable glow over the 
 room. 
 
 Mr. Moreton did not know his little parlour 
 
EOTDENHURST. 131 
 
 again ! The sofa, whicli usually stood stifly 
 and formally against the wall at the bottom 
 of the room, had been drawn to the side of 
 the fire, and a red shawl, with deep fringe, 
 lay over the back of it. The easy chair was 
 the opposite side ; the table, no longer im- 
 movably in one position, had been placed 
 nearer the sofa, and a few flowers, tastefully 
 arranged in a glass, stood in the centre ; 
 there was also a little inlaid work-box, and a 
 thimble and pair of scissors. 
 
 "What a different appearance all these little 
 matters gave the room ! Mr. Moreton 
 thought he had never seen it look so pretty 
 before, and Avondered that he had never' 
 found out the way of making it look so com- 
 fortable. He determined not to let the wall 
 take possession of the sofa again, nor the 
 centre of the room to monopolise the table. 
 In fact, he was so pleased with the improve- 
 ments that he almost forgot his errand, till 
 the old cabinet caught his eye. He very 
 
132 EOTDENHURST. 
 
 softly unlocked it, took out the packet, and 
 hastened back to Mrs. Plumley, who, during 
 his absence, had been nerving herself to meet 
 the storm she expected. 
 
 " Mrs. Plumley, you need not hurry the 
 ladies away." 
 
 " Thank you, sir," said she, dropping a 
 very low courtsey. 
 
 *' And when I come back I should like to 
 find the chairs, sofa, and table arranged just 
 as they are now." 
 
 " Yery well, sir." 
 
 ** And don't mention my having been here 
 to the ladies. I shall not return for some 
 time." 
 
 So saying, he abruptly turned round, and 
 went away, leaving Mrs. Plumley as much 
 surprised as relieved at this peaceable termi- 
 nation of her difficulties. 
 
EOTDENHUEST. 133 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 All tMs time Mrs. Tims lay snoring on, per- 
 fectly unconscious of the alarming commo- 
 tion whicli her ''frock" and other garments 
 had caused, while the disturbed sisters were 
 trembling with fright, having been awakened 
 by the noise of footsteps. 
 
 It was a man's foot, they were sure, and 
 how lucky it was that they had locked the 
 door, for they heard the handle turned, then 
 the hurried footsteps to Tims' room, and 
 back, and the words — 
 
 *' Who the deuce has she let my cottage 
 to?" 
 
 This told them that "Our Lodger" must 
 have unexpectedly returned. What could 
 they do ? They dared not venture out to 
 
134 ROTDENHURST. 
 
 call up Tims; and if they did, wtiat could 
 she do ? 
 
 So they lay blaming themselves for want 
 of thought in not haying enquired whether 
 the lodger was a lady or gentleman. They 
 listened, but heard no more for a long time, 
 and at last they fairly fell asleep from ex- 
 haustion. 
 
 Mrs. Tims was an early riser. She always 
 said unless she got up at five in the summer 
 and six in the winter, she never could do 
 anything all day, for that was " how she was 
 brought up in old-fashioned days." 
 
 At the proper time she intended to call 
 her ladies ; but, to her amazement, they were 
 up and dressed long before. They told her 
 what had happened. She almost burst into 
 tears on finding that she had enjoyed a good 
 night's rest, and her poor dear mistresses in 
 such trouble. 
 
 " There, if only I'd been awake, I'd have 
 got up and run after him, and frightened him 
 
EOTDENHURST. 135 
 
 well, that I would. Bat wliy didn't you 
 strike the glass. Miss ; I'd have come that 
 minute ? " 
 
 It almost made them laugh to think of 
 Tims friglitening " Oar Lodger" away, as if 
 he had been some timid animal ! 
 
 Bat what was to be done ? Where should 
 they go ? Jane began to repent leaving home, 
 and thought they had better return ; but 
 Laura, who never made a difficulty of any- 
 thing, partly from jouth, which never ought 
 to stumble at obstacles, and chiefly from her 
 bright, happy disposition, said ''No" to this 
 proposal. 
 
 " Don't let this little adventure break up 
 all our pleasant plans. It will be all right, 
 the gentleman will find that we have not in- 
 jured his rooms or his furniture ; and I dare 
 say he will never think of us again, certainly 
 he will not even know our names, or where 
 we came from, or anything about us," 
 
 " They shan't find ,out anything from me 
 
136 EOYDENHURST. 
 
 next door. Miss Jane, you may depend upon 
 it." 
 
 " Indeed I do, dear Tims, I always feel 
 that yon are quite one of us in all our troubles 
 or pleasures," said Jane. 
 
 "I have been thinking," said Laura, "that 
 we might go by the steamer this morning to 
 Shellbeach, which, if you remember, the 
 Hartleighs said was the next small place to 
 this — a few miles farther along the coast." 
 
 "Shall we be in time?" 
 
 "Oh, yes. Miss Jane," said Tims, "why 
 it has only now gone six." 
 
 " Well, then, Laura, we will go to Shell- 
 beach ; I suppose we must send for the land- 
 lady, to give her the money." 
 
 " Dear ladies, I am so vexed, you should 
 be worried," said Mrs. Tims, " the landlady 
 have done very wrong; and she knows it, 
 and depend upon it. Miss Jane, she'll come 
 in by and by, full of words, to excuse her- 
 self." 
 
EOYDENHURST. 137 
 
 '' How YGrj disagreeable for us, Tims," 
 interrupted Laura. 
 
 " Yes, miss, and that's what I am thinkiog 
 upon, and if you and Miss Jane would walk on 
 slowly to tlie Pier, T'll stop and settle it all with 
 the landlady, and follow you with the luggage." 
 
 " Yery well, Tims, I think it will be much 
 better to leave it all to you, and for us not to 
 see Mrs. Plumley again." 
 
 ''I'll be after you pretty quickly, ladies, 
 you won't walk fast, for 'tis only a step to the 
 Pier ; perhaps, Miss Jane, if you was just to 
 write a bit of a note to the landlady, it would 
 convince her you didn't want to stop here in 
 the gentleman's house — you knows what I 
 means, Miss Jane." 
 
 " Yes, and I will leave a note, we shall be 
 very glad to escape all her apologies, and not 
 to see her again ; I suppose," added Jane, 
 ''' we had better leave her rather more than 
 her due, as you know we have given her a 
 great deal of trouble ? " 
 
138 EOTDENHUEST. 
 
 '' I am sorry to lose tlie monej," said 
 Laura, " but I dare say Mrs. Plumley got a 
 good scolding from ' Our Lodger ' on our 
 account, so perhaps slie ouglit to have a little 
 more for that." 
 
 They reached the Pier in good time, and 
 were soon joined by their faithful servant. 
 
 " I gave it all up, the landlady, she looked 
 frightened when I said the ladies was gone ! 
 She didn't find out from me, Miss Jane, where 
 we was going, nor nothing at all about us." 
 
 " I am very glad, Tims, you managed it 
 all so well, and that she does not know the 
 name of her disappointed lodgers, for I must 
 confess," said Laura, " I feel sorry to give 
 up ' Myrtle Cottage.' " 
 
 They were now on board the steamer ; the 
 morning was cold and foggy, but they pre- 
 ferred remaining on deck, where they seated 
 themselves, in spite of Mrs. Tims' entreaties 
 to get them below. Laura soon saw that her 
 sister would be more comfortable if her feet 
 
EOTDENHUEST. 139 
 
 were up, so she rose from her seat, and stood 
 by Jane's side, when a lady who, from the 
 further end of the form, had noticed Laura's 
 movements, made room for her, saying there 
 was space enough for both, and observing 
 that Laura had some little difficulty in sup- 
 porting Jane's feet, good-naturedly fetched a 
 small soft carpet bag from below, and said — 
 
 " I think this will keep the lady's feet warm 
 as well as support them." 
 
 " Oh, thank you very much," said Laura. 
 " My sister is rather an invalid." 
 
 The stranger then made a few remarks to 
 Laura, and they continued talking pleasantly 
 together; suddenly a bright thought struck 
 Laura, and she went to Jane's side and 
 whispered — 
 
 " Shall I ask the lady about lodgings at 
 Shellbeach?" 
 
 " Certainly. I think you had better 
 enquire." 
 
 On her return to her seat, Laura told her 
 
140 ROYDENHURST. 
 
 new acquaintance tliat tliey were strangers, 
 and asked wlietlier she knew any nice lodging 
 there. 
 
 " Yes, indeed I do," replied the lady. " I 
 know some that are particularly clean and 
 comfortable. I always secure them for my 
 friends when they come to Shellbeach." 
 
 '' Thank you, I hope they are still to be 
 had." 
 
 " They were not let when I left home, and 
 I have not heard that any one has taken them 
 since." 
 
 " Are they near the sea ? " said Laura, 
 " for my sister is not a great walker." 
 
 " Yes, quite close to the sea ; at least, close 
 enough to be pleasant. They are not far 
 from my house, and I shall have great plea- 
 sure in taking you there on our arrival, and 
 I will introduce you to Mrs. Pope, the land- 
 lady." 
 
 " Indeed, you are very kind, and it will be a 
 great help to us," exclaimed Laura, gratefully. 
 
EOYDENHURST. 141 
 
 The steamer slackened its speed. The 
 noise of ropes was heard, and men shouting 
 to the passengers to collect their luggage, and 
 " Now then, this way if you please," told the^ 
 travellers that they had arrived. 
 
 Two very nice looking girls greeted the 
 strange lady. 
 
 " Dear mamma, we are so glad you have 
 had a fine day for your journey." 
 
 Kissing them, she said — 
 
 " My dears, take this shawl and basket 
 home, for I am going to take these ladies to 
 Mrs. Pope. Has any one taken her lodg- 
 ings?" 
 
 ''No, mamma, I think not." 
 
 A few minutes' walk brought them to a 
 very nice small house, where they stopped. 
 It had a little garden before it, they were in- 
 troduced to Mrs. Pope, the landlady, who 
 showed her house to them, and they were 
 very grateful to the lady who had brought 
 them to it, for they liked the rooms. When 
 
142 EOTDENHURST. 
 
 Mrs. Tims came in that evening to take away 
 the tea, she remarked — 
 
 " There is no fear of cigar smells here, 
 Miss Jane." 
 
 '' No," replied Laura, " nor I hope of any 
 changeable lodgers to turn us out ; I shall not 
 forgive Mrs. Plumley and ' Our Lodger ;' it 
 was too bad to give us so much trouble." 
 
EOTDENHURST. 143 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 When Mr. Moreton/' Our Lodger," left Mrs. 
 Plumley to her meditations that night, he 
 repaired to the hotel to look for his groom, 
 and without saying why or wherefore, he 
 ordered him to have the horses ready in half 
 an hour. They rode to a very good inn, on 
 the road side, about six miles off, and there 
 he put up for the night. John never knew 
 where his master was going ; but this time, 
 he soon discovered that they were going 
 towards London ; when anything struck Mr. 
 Moreton on the road, he would sometimes 
 poiut it out to John ; but generally speaking 
 he was a man of very few words. 
 
 The day after he reached London, he went 
 to his lawyer, Mr. Penhorn ; that gentleman 
 
144 EOTDENHUEST. 
 
 ushered him into a very dingy looking room,, 
 smelling terribly of soot. 
 
 "Any intelligence, Mr. Penhorn, since I 
 was here last?" he asked. 
 
 "Not any, sir." 
 
 "When did you put in the last adver- 
 tisement ? " 
 
 " Let me see," said Mr. Penhorn. " Why, 
 sir, I think it was a month ago ; but I'll step 
 into the office, and refer to the books ; " pre- 
 sently he returned with a large reference 
 book. " Yes, sir, it was a month ago last 
 Thursday, the 15th." 
 
 "And no notice whatever, you say, has 
 been taken of it ? " 
 
 " No, sir, we have had no applications." 
 
 " I shall be much obliged for pen, ink, and 
 and paper, Mr. Penhorn ; for I wish to write 
 a letter in time for post." 
 
 " Certainly, sir," and the lawyer left the 
 room, while Mr. Moreton wrote his letter ; it 
 was a very short one, he folded it deliberatelyy 
 
ROYDENHUEST. 145 
 
 as if debating wliat he should do next. It 
 was directed to—*' Sir Edward Moreton, 
 Kemberton Hall, Kent ; " then he rang the 
 bell, and Mr. PeDhorn re-appeared. 
 
 ''Mr. Penhorn," he said, taking from his 
 pocket a packet, and the one which had 
 caused his sudden return to Myrtle Cottage, 
 " I am becoming exceedingly anxious to dis- 
 cover the people to whom this is addressed ; 
 in another year, you see," he added, pointing 
 to some writing on the cover, " it must be 
 opened by me, if they are not found, and I 
 had rather not have to do so." 
 
 " Well, I really don't know what we are 
 to do, sir, to find the parties ; but we will 
 advertise again, if you please." 
 
 " Yes, certainly, and without loss of time," 
 then taking up his hat and leaving his letter 
 to be posted, he abruptly left his lawyer's 
 dark dismal little room. 
 
 Philip Moreton was an only child; his 
 parents died when he was quite an infant, lea v- 
 
 VOL. I. L 
 
146 EOYDENHUEST. 
 
 ing him to tlie guardianship of an uncle, with 
 whom he had resided from boyhood. The 
 uncle, Sir Edward Moreton, was rather an 
 eccentric character. He had never married ; it 
 was said that early in life he had been 
 jilted by a lady, to whom he was very much 
 attached ; however that might be, he cer- 
 tainly had for years held womankind in great 
 contempt; in his opinion, "they were all 
 alike vain, frivolous, and deceitful," he was 
 in fact a woman hater ; no lady visitor ever 
 ventured to call at Kemberton Hall, for it 
 was a sort of county proverb, " How the old 
 Baronet hated the sight of a petticoat;" 
 whenever he heard of any marriage in the 
 neighbourhood, he took the opportunity to 
 pour forth his opinions, and warn his nephew 
 against matrimony, in such sarcastic remarks 
 as these — 
 
 " Phil, my boy ! (he always so addressed 
 him) " Phil, my boy ! don't let the butterflies 
 flutter about you ! Ah ! I know their tricks, 
 
EOYDENHURST. 147 
 
 ihej go from flower to flower, till they find 
 the richest. You will be a rich man one of 
 these days ! I say, Phil, beware of the flighty 
 things, don't let one pitch upon you." 
 
 It was no wonder that Philip Moreton, 
 who almost worshipped his uncle, should have 
 imbibed some of his notions, and rather 
 piqued himself on an indifference to the charms 
 and fascinations of the fair sex, in whose 
 presence, if chance threw him into it, he was 
 so dull, so silent and reserved, that the ladies 
 declared, " he was as invulnerable, and they 
 believed as much a woman hater as his eccen- 
 tric old uncle." 
 
 It was a misfortune that Philip Moreton 
 had not in boyhood, nor in the more im- 
 portant period of his life, when passing into 
 manhood, the love of a mother, most tender 
 sympathy of woman, whose influence, blended 
 with affection, helps to form the future 
 character of the man. It was a cold day 
 when Mr. Moreton reached Kemberton. 
 
148 - EOTDENHUEST. 
 
 " How is mj uncle ? Williams," lie asked 
 of the grey-headed butler. 
 
 " Well, sir, I am very glad you are come. 
 I don't think Sir Edward is quite well. He 
 has not taken his chocolate of a morning, 
 which we think a bad sign." 
 
 Now '' we," meant the servants, for though 
 the Baronet was an odd man in some respects, 
 he was by all his domestics considered one of 
 the best masters in the world, and if he had 
 only a slight cold, or betrayed any infirmity 
 of age, there was real concern felt, and many 
 a secret consultation held about him in the 
 servants' hall. 
 
 " How long has he been aihng ? William." 
 
 '* Only a few days, sir, but I hope now 
 you are come, that he will soon get well. 
 Shall I tell him you are here, sir ? He has 
 been expecting you, and it will cheer him 
 very much to know you have arrived." 
 
 " Do, and say I shall be with him directly." 
 
 The old Baronet was sitting in an easy 
 
EOTDENHUEST. 149 
 
 •cliair before tlie fire ; lie was enveloped in a 
 crimson silk dressing-gown, with a pair of 
 green slippers. 
 
 " Well, Phil, my boy," said he, as the door 
 opened and his nephew entered, " well, Phil, 
 glad to see you, very glad." 
 
 " How are you uncle, to-day ? " 
 
 " Yery shakey, Phil, not much life left in 
 me, I'm afraid. You don't often see me in 
 this (holding up the skirt of his dressing- 
 gown) sure sign that I'm very bad, Phil." 
 
 " Ob, no, uncle, you must not think that. 
 Where did you catch such a bad cold ? " 
 
 "Why, I believe I got it attending the 
 last sessions, where I particularly wished to 
 see justice done to a poor man, who had been 
 wronged by his neighbour ; I had the fellow 
 punished, however, by a good fine." 
 
 The old butler came to announce dinner. 
 Sir Edward begged his nephew "to excuse 
 him, and not to stay long away, for he felt 
 better already for seeing him, and he wanted 
 
150 EOYDENHURST. 
 
 to talk to liim about attending the next magis- 
 trates' meeting, as he could not go himself." 
 
 Philip Moreton sat alone in the great 
 dining-room, which was panelled with oak, 
 and round the walls hung old grim-looking 
 portraits of the ancestors of the Moreton 
 family. The butler told Mr. Moreton, " that 
 he thought Dr. Hurst ought to see Sir Edward, 
 but his proposal to send for him had irritated 
 him, that he was afraid to do so again. It 
 required some little skill and plotting to 
 manage the old Baronet whenever he was ill; 
 he never would have medical advice. If 
 Dr. Hunt called casually to pay him a visit, 
 and to have a chat with him, he liked it very 
 well; but if he came professionally, he 
 treated him quite rudely." 
 
 Mr. Moreton rode over to the town the 
 following day to see the doctor, and he re- 
 quested him to call at the hall, as if by chance, 
 knowing very well, that his uncle would be 
 angry and refuse to see him if it transpired 
 that he had been sent for. 
 
EOYDENHUEST. 151 
 
 Kemberton Hall was a fine old rambling 
 mansion, but sadly neglected ; the present 
 Baronet lived a very secluded life ; the best 
 part of the house, the drawing-room wing, 
 was not inhabited. In these rooms, the brown 
 holland coverings were never removed from 
 the furniture, and excepting the old house- 
 keeper, no one ever ventured into them ; it 
 was said they had been fitted up according to 
 the taste of the lady with whom Sir Edward 
 was on the point of marriage, when she sud- 
 denly changed her mind, and married some 
 one else ; since then the Baronet had never 
 been known to visit that part of the house. 
 His hospitality extended to gentlemen only, 
 and he therefore considered his dining-room 
 and library sufficient, and nothing the old 
 man liked better than to have a few friends 
 drop in to dinner with him, to whom he could 
 relate his ''justice stories," and who would 
 praise and do honour to his " fine old port.'* 
 
152 EOYDENHURST. 
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 The advertisement which Mr. Moreton had 
 told his lawyer to put again into the " Times," 
 was at this moment the subject of discussion 
 in the dingy lodgings of Mr. Bartholomew 
 Shuffles, in the quiet little town of Campden. 
 As a lad, Mr., Shuffles was so remarkably 
 quick and intelligent, that although he began 
 life only as an errand boy in the service of an 
 attorney in the town of Royden, yet by his 
 cleverness he rose to a higher position, until 
 at last he was taken into his master's office; 
 unfortunately his ambition took a wrong 
 turn, which led him astray in some matters 
 of business which aroused suspicion as 
 to his integrity and trustworthy conduct, 
 consequently he was somewhat suddenly dis- 
 
ROTDENHU£ST. 153 
 
 missed. He left the neighbourhood of Eoyden 
 for a distant town, where by his adroitness, 
 Ms plausibility, and natural cleverness, he 
 managed to get employment in a merchant's 
 office ; he had married a servant of the late 
 Lady Culverton, although she had held no 
 very high situation at E/Oydenhurst, yet to 
 have lived at all in that distinguished family 
 was a mark of distinction Mr. Shuffles thought 
 sufficient to permit him to take Julia Bodkin 
 to be his wife. After reading the paper for 
 some time, Mr. Shuffles suddenly exclaimed 
 to his wife — 
 
 " Why, Ju ! my dear, look here, are these 
 our people ? " 
 
 " Where, Bart ? " looking over his shoulder. 
 
 ''There, read that." 
 
 " Well, to be sure," she exclaimed, '' what 
 can have become of 'em all ? Why it is the 
 two ladies as is wanted." 
 
 " That makes me think Ju, that it is a 
 fortune very likely sent home by their brother. 
 
154 EOYDENHURST- 
 
 don't you remember we heard lie went to the 
 gold diggings?" 
 
 " To be sure, Bart ; I wish we could hear 
 of something to our advantage." 
 
 Mr. Shuffles sat thinking for some little 
 time, running his slim fingers through his 
 hair ; at last he said — 
 
 " I'll tell you what, Ju, I have a notion 
 that it will be worth while to make a few en- 
 quiries about this ; why can't we turn it ' to 
 our advantage ? ' " 
 
 " Oh, you dear Bart, it would be very nice 
 if we could ; but " — taking up the paper and 
 reading the advertisement again — " I don't 
 see how it is to be done." 
 
 " Of course you don't ! You are a 
 woman ! " 
 
 " But we are not sure," she said, " that 
 these Culvertons are our folks — I mean, of 
 Eoydenhurst — it may be another family, and 
 I can't think, dear Bart, how you can find 
 that out, for it doesn't say where." 
 
EOTDENHURST. 155 
 
 " Leave that to me, Mrs. Shuffles," and he 
 left the room, but soon returned with a Rail- 
 way Guide in his hand. 
 
 '' Let me see if I can do it and be back in 
 the day." 
 
 " Where, my dear ? " 
 
 " Why, to London, of course. There " — 
 pointing to the advertisement inserted in the 
 " Times" by Mr. Penhorn. 
 
 Mr. Bartholomew Shuffles had, as attor- 
 ney's under clerk, been accustomed to work 
 at under-plots, and now thought it quite time 
 to better himself. 
 
 He was a little, wiry-looking man, with 
 small, sharp round eyes, which had a cunning 
 expression. His hair had an objection to the 
 place of its birth, for it liked keeping away 
 from his head as much as possible, and 
 nothing that he could do would induce it to 
 lie smooth, or look as if it ever was brushed. 
 His appearance, therefore, was rather sin- 
 gular. 
 
156 ROYDENHUEST. 
 
 After looking over the Eailway Book for 
 some little time, he said — 
 
 '* Ju, my love, I shall go to London to- 
 morrow, and perhaps, if I see anything hope- 
 ful, I may not return for a day or two." 
 
 " Dear Bart, what am I to say if any one 
 comes for you ? " 
 
 " Say that particular business has called 
 me into the country." 
 
 '* Very well, I will, dear Bart." 
 
 Xext morning, Mr. Bartholomew ShuflB.es 
 rose early, and dressed himself in his best 
 suit (he really did not appear so very mean- 
 looking when thus attired) and took the first 
 train to London. 
 
 He had not often visited the great Metro- 
 polis ; so, when he arrived, he was obliged to 
 ask his way. At last it occurred to him that 
 a cab stopping at the door would look well. 
 So he called one, and desired to be put down 
 at Bryant's Court. He knocked at the door, 
 and asked if Mr. Penhorn was there. 
 
EOTDENHURST. 157 
 
 " Yes, sir ; walk in." 
 
 He had not to wait long before Mr. Pen- 
 horn entered. They both bowed. 
 
 *'I believe, sir," said Mr. Shuffles, ''that 1 
 have the honour to address this gentleman 
 or his partner," pointing to the address in the 
 advertisement. 
 
 " You have, sir ; my name is Penhom.. 
 Pray take a seat." 
 
 Mr. Shuffles sat down. 
 
 " I am come to you, sir, on behalf of my 
 clients, who, there is every probability, may 
 prove to be the parties in question." 
 
 "That notice," said Mr. Penhorn, "has 
 been in the papers many times, more or less^ 
 in the last year." 
 
 " Sir," said Mr. Shuffles, *'the parties have 
 been abroad." 
 
 " Until lately ? " enquired Mr. Penhorn. 
 
 " Yes, until lately," said the other, repeat- 
 ing his words. 
 
 " Ah ! Well, that may account for it." 
 
158 EOTDENHURST. 
 
 " Most probably it will, sir, but," lie added, 
 ** as the clients I mentioned are extremely 
 anxious that there should be no mistake, will 
 you kmdly inform me, as their legal adviser, 
 to what place, and in what county, the parties 
 in that advertisement refer ; as, if my clients 
 respond to the same, we may prove them to 
 be the right people." 
 
 " I have no objection to inform you, sir, 
 that they are the old family of the Culvertons, 
 of Roydenhurst, Co. Cheshire." 
 
 Mr. Shuffles repeated the name. 
 
 *' Ah, Culvertons — yes — Roydenhurst — I 
 won't be sure, Mr. Penhorn. It's an uncom- 
 mon name. However," he added, rising to 
 go, '' I will communicate with you again," 
 and he left the office, saying to himself — 
 
 " Capital ! Bartholomew Shuffles, you are 
 a very clever man." 
 
 And away he darted down the street, not 
 caring to take a cab this time. He had been 
 gazing in at the window of an eating-house 
 
EOTDENHUEST. 159 
 
 for some time, hesitating as to wliicli of the 
 many tempting dishes there he should call 
 for, when a tap on his shoulder startled 
 him. 
 
 " Why, Shuff, old fellow ! how are you ? '* 
 
 " Bless me, Drum, where do you come 
 from ? " 
 
 " Why, here, of course ; but I say, Shuff, 
 how you have got yourself up ! What are 
 you doing now ? " 
 
 " 0— desking it still. Drum." 
 
 '* Where?" 
 
 "In the same place — don't often gei; a 
 holiday. Drum — haven't been in London so 
 long — almost lost myself." 
 
 " I say, where are you going now, Shuff?'* 
 
 " To see a place." 
 
 " Professionally, eh ? " asked Drum. 
 
 *' Well — yes — no — not exactly — a little 
 business on my own account." 
 
 " What, going to purchase ? Got up to that 
 pitch, Shuff?" 
 
160 EOTDENH[JRST. 
 
 " No, not to purcbase." 
 
 " Well, better still, old boy, to inherit, maj 
 be?" 
 
 " No — well, yes — perhaps a chance of it." 
 
 " Indeed — wish you joy. I say, old fellow,, 
 hope you will ask me to see you in the 
 country ? eh, Shuff ? " 
 
 " Yes ; quite, I believe." 
 
 ** Then you have never seen your property 
 yet?" 
 
 *'No; not yet." 
 
 ** "Why, what a lucky fellow ! What a 
 state of excitement and impatience you must 
 be in to see it ! I wish I could inherit a few 
 bricks and mortar and a grass plot in the 
 country. What's the name of your place,. 
 Shuff?" 
 
 " Roydenhurst." 
 
 "What?" 
 
 " Roydenhurst. Odd name, isn't it ? '* 
 
 " Strikes me — something very curious ► 
 Why, I have that name in large letters over 
 
EOYDENHURST. 161 
 
 mj head — a canopy to mj head every day of 
 my life ! " 
 
 "You don't say so, Drum ! " 
 
 " But I do, though ! I see it now. ' Roy- 
 denhurst Estates, Papers, &c.,' in white letters 
 on a black box ! " 
 
 " Dear me. How marvellously fortunate 
 I am ! Come, you can help me, Drum." 
 
 " What to do ? " 
 
 " To find out particulars." 
 
 "Who for ? One of the family employed 
 you in a private way ? " 
 
 " No — yes — no — not exactly." 
 
 " Ah, Shuff, I see. You've got a scent of 
 something, and it may be in my power to 
 help you. I say, you'd better let us work 
 together, old boy, as we used to do at Dob- 
 son's School." 
 
 " Well — yes ; but mind, it is my business." 
 
 " Certainly ; but you will give me a share 
 in the profits, if you succeed through my 
 help?" 
 
 VOL. I. M 
 
162 EOYDENHUEST. 
 
 Mr. Shuffles hesitated. 
 
 "You see," continued his friend, *'that if 
 my old governor catches me prying into boxes, 
 Over parchments, he will turn me off, and I 
 am all alone now in the office. I risk a good 
 deal. Old Grov. is getting seedy. I have a 
 capital chance of a jDartnership in the busi- 
 ness. It won't do for me, just for friendship, 
 you see, Shuff, to swamp a chance of £800 a 
 year." 
 
 " No, certainly not ; but is it worth so 
 much as that? " 
 
 " And a pretty deal more, taking all into 
 consideration. Old Gov. hinted he might 
 give me a lift by and by. You see, he has 
 no one else in the office now but me. Come, 
 Shuff, 1 should like to hear more. If you 
 give me a share in every success, I'll help 
 you. Come, that's fair." 
 
 '' Certainly ; and you will find out all par- 
 ticulars in case they may be required, and 
 you will write out all clear for me. Well, 
 
EOTDENHTJEST. 163 
 
 I consent, then. Read that. You see," 
 he added, " mj wife and I am from that 
 family, and know a good deal of them, or 
 rather did." 
 
 " But, Shuffles, there is no estate here, de- 
 pend upon it," said his friend, with a look of 
 disappointment. 
 
 " 'No, no ; I know that very well ; but I 
 tell you, my notion of it is that it is either the 
 will or a sum of money sent home from the 
 ladies' brother, who went to the gold mines 
 some years ago ; bub I shall know more about 
 it when I have been down to the old place, and 
 made enquiries as to what is likely to have 
 become of the family, and if I find they are 
 dead or out of England I shall try if I can't 
 turn this advertisement to my advantage." 
 
 " And if I help you, Shuff, with the par- 
 ticulars from the box daily over my head, 
 remember I am to share in the advantages." 
 
 " Yery well, I will let you know all that I 
 gather on the spot." 
 
164 EOTDENHURST. 
 
 " I must be off now, or I shall catch it," 
 said Drum, " but stop, you won't mention 
 my name in the matter, Shuff, to any one." 
 
 " No, certainly not, not even to my wife,"' 
 thought he, " or Bartholomew Shuffles' 
 cleverness may be snubbed." He went into 
 an obscure chop-house, ate voraciously, paid 
 for his dinner, and as fast as his short legs 
 would carry him, marched off to the station, 
 arriving jast in time to get a ticket for the 
 nearest place from whence he hoped to find 
 means to get on to E-oydenhurst. 
 
 He had no fear of being remembered by 
 any one ; fortune seemed to favour him, for 
 on arriving at Roydenhurst, he was told that 
 the family were absent, and as he represented 
 himself to be a friend of the Culverton family, 
 he was by every one well received. It was 
 with great caution he answered the numerous 
 questions put to him of the old family, " un- 
 settled " and '' being abroad," " the heir 
 believed to be dead," were his vague replies ; 
 
EOYDENHURST. 165 
 
 the family portraits attracted his attention, 
 especially the one already mentioned of Lady 
 Culyerton, and, mean little man as he was, 
 he could not help saying to himself, '' what 
 a beauty." He walked about the grounds, into 
 the church, taking notes of everything, and 
 then he went to the village inn, " The Cul- 
 verton Arms," where he put up for the night, 
 and took advantage of the very loquacious 
 landlady, to obtain further information. She 
 told him " how the young Mr. Richard, the 
 heir as was, went off quite suddenly, no one 
 knew where, nor whether he was dead or 
 alive ; did he, the gentleman, know what had 
 become of him ? " 
 
 Mr. Shuffles thought it better to know 
 something, so he said — 
 
 " Yes, it was supposed he was dead." 
 
 " Dear me," she said, " there, my lady, 
 
 she died of a broken heart. Sir Godfrey, he 
 
 was killed out hunting, and now another 
 
 gone ! For my part Miss Culverton, the 
 
166 EOTDENHURST. 
 
 oldest daughter, her seemed most Hkelj to 
 drop off of all of 'em, from her delicate 
 appearance ;" then she told him how the ladies 
 disappeared one morning with Mrs. Tims,, 
 their old nurse, and never corned back, 
 nobody knew anything about them ; did he 
 know where they resided — " 
 
 " Unsettled, much abroad," were again his 
 safe replies. 
 
 Then she told him how '' Mr. Fortiswood 
 wasn't liked, he was not the right sort for 
 the quality about — they don't take no notice 
 of him. 'T was said he gave the Baronet a lot of 
 money to cut off the entail, and when he 
 found Miss Culverton would not have him, 
 he went and married suddenly out of spite, 
 to get an heir, for he swore none of the old 
 family should ever come back, but now h6's 
 got one, he's a poor little sickly fellow. She 
 grieved to hear that Mr. Richard was dead ; 
 'twas a sad job, but did the gentleman think 
 it was true ? " 
 
EOTDENHURST. 167 
 
 Mr. Bartholomew Shuffles evaded an an- 
 swer, and called for supper. He had now 
 the history of the Oulvertons. The following 
 morning he proceeded homewards, stopping 
 on his way to communicate what he had 
 gathered to his friend " Drum," who pro- 
 mised to do his part on condition, he again 
 repeated, he should have a share in the 
 " advantage." 
 
 Mrs. Shuffles was looking out at the door 
 of the lodging when she saw her husband 
 coming up the street ; she rushed into the 
 sitting-room and hid away a band-box. 
 
 '' He shan't see this," she said, " unless 
 thiugs are all prosperous." 
 
 On the strength of something " advanta- 
 geous," she had been a little extravagant, 
 and had bought herself a new bonnet of bright 
 yellow, adorned with black tulips. She had 
 but just time to smooth her hair and look 
 complacent, before her husband came in. 
 
 " 0! dear Bart, it seems an age sinceyouleft." 
 
168 EOYDENHURST. 
 
 " So it is, Ju, and ought to be, considering 
 all the business I have done, and most success- 
 fully. Mrs. Shuffles, you ought to be very 
 proud of your husband — a remarkably clever 
 fellow is Bartholomew Shuffles." 
 
 " 0, yes, my dear, darling Bart, there is 
 nobody in the world so clever, but do tell me 
 all about the old place. Did you ask for Mrs. 
 Thompson, the housekeeper ? How I hated 
 her?" 
 
 '' Yes, she's dead, there are no tidings of 
 any of the old family ; it's believed the ladies, 
 if they are alive, are residing abroad, but the 
 eldest had bad health, it appears, and pro- 
 bably is dead." 
 
 "Well, so she had," said Mrs. Shuffles, " I 
 remember, and always was as white as a bit 
 of alabas, but the little one, she promised to 
 turn out so rosy and pretty ; but about Mr. 
 Proctor, the butler, did you hear if he was 
 alive, or the old nurse, Mrs. Tims ? " 
 
 " He died last year. Tims left with the 
 ladies." 
 
ROYDENHUEST. 169 
 
 " He gone, too ! Well, then Bart, tliey 
 seem all dead or gone, but me ! Dear me," 
 ;slie said with a sort of forced sigh, '' and her 
 ladyship was verj partial to me, but it made 
 a jealousy, and that Mrs. Thompson she never 
 would let me go up to my lady, many a time 
 as I wished to see her ladyship. So all of 
 em's gone but me." 
 
 " Yes, Julia, and I think, as you were one 
 of the family when T married you, that we 
 may now reasonably claim possession of the 
 advantages." 
 
 "Dear, darling, clever Bart;" now, thought 
 she, is the time for that sly band-box to 
 appear, so she darted off to the cupboard, 
 and bringing it before him, took the bonnet 
 out saying, " Is not that sweet," and putting 
 it on, continued, " there, now don't I look fit 
 for Mr. Bartholomew Shuffles' wife ?— perhaps 
 a very rich man, one of these days, too," 
 looking slyly up at him. 
 
 Now Mr. Shuffles had been thinking how 
 lie should ever get his wife to do all he in- 
 
170 EOYDENHURST. 
 
 tended, but the bonnet Iielped liim, so looking 
 rather more gravely than she liked, he said— 
 
 " Julia, you will have a great deal to learn 
 before you can wear that bonnet." 
 
 " Yes, dear Bart, but I am going to learn 
 everything you tell me." 
 
 '' Well, put that bonnet carefully a^ay; I 
 have no doubt it will be of use by and by," 
 and as he saw a shade of disappointment 
 pass over her face, and wished particularly to 
 keep her in a good humour until at least his 
 hunger had been satisfied, he said, " I will 
 say, my dear, that I never saw you look better 
 in anything of the sort before, quite a young 
 girl, Ju ! " 
 
 " I am so glad," and she ran off with the 
 bonnet, muttering to herself, " There, that's 
 done ; now he has seen it, I shall certainly 
 wear it on Sunday, to let Mrs. S tubbings 
 S3e it, and envy me, too." 
 
 The cupboard door locked, she hastened to 
 where her husband was standing. 
 
ROTDENHUPiST. 171 
 
 " Ju," said he, ''I feel a sinking — " 
 
 '' Where ? dear Bart." 
 
 " Here," tapping his chest. 
 
 " Oh, I'll run and fry you a nice bit of 
 bacon directly," and she began to bustle 
 about, but Mr. Shuffles was not quite satisfied 
 at her ''bit of bacon," and he presently said — 
 
 " I do really think, Ju, that with our pros- 
 pects, we might on this occasion of my success, 
 treat ourselves to a good substantial supper." 
 
 " You deserve it, Bart ; what would you 
 like to have ? " 
 
 '' Why, my dear, a good tender beefsteak, 
 and as quickly as possible, but in the mean- 
 time do give me that little bit of bacon you 
 talked of, it will relieve my sinking." 
 
 Mrs. Shuffles ran off, her husband followed 
 her to the door, and in a solemn, important 
 voice, said — 
 
 " Julia ! don't forget the onions! " 
 
172 EOYDENHUEST. 
 
 CHAPTER XXI. 
 
 Dr. Hunt's visit at Kemberton Hall was of 
 use. He was a man of tact, as all doctors 
 are supposed to be. He knew tbe Baronet's 
 peculiarities ; lie did not immediately make 
 any enquiries respecting liis bealtb, but sat 
 on, for some time, talking of indifferent 
 subjects, turning the conversation at last to 
 tlie unliealtliy weather, and remarking there 
 was much illness about in consequence. Then 
 looking at Sir Edward's dressing-gown, he 
 observed what a comfortable one it looked. 
 
 Sir Edward, who was in general particular 
 about his appearance, immediately began to 
 apologise for receiving a visitor in that 
 dress. 
 
 " The fact is," he said, " I am a little bit 
 .shakey to-day." 
 
ROTDENHUEST. 17S 
 
 Dr. Hunt saw Ms opportunity, and said — 
 
 *' Ah, yes ; I dare say now you feel shiver- 
 ing, headache, pain in the chest, influenza ?"^ 
 
 *' Yes; that's just it," replied Sir Edward, 
 " and so I feel more comfortable in my friend 
 here," holding up his dressing-gown. 
 
 " Exactly so," said the Doctor. " That is 
 just the cold now prevalent. Let me feel 
 your pulse. Sir Edward. Ah, yes ; rather 
 full. I'll send you some medicine ; take a 
 glass less of port wine to-day. You will 
 be quite well in a day or two. These are 
 colds, however," he continued, '' which re- 
 quire to be taken in time, if they are to be 
 got rid of easily ; but take my advice, Sir 
 Edward, and you will soon shake off the 
 dressing-gown." 
 
 The Doctor's advice was taken, and the 
 cold went away, in consequence ; but the old 
 butler continued to keep a watchful eye over 
 his master, which would have annoyed the 
 latter extremely, had he been aware of it. 
 
174 ROTDENHUEST. 
 
 There was one of tlie servants at Kember- 
 ton who never liked to hear of Philip More- 
 ton's arrival. This was the gamekeeper, who, 
 two years ago, had succeeded a very old man 
 in that capacity. He was a plausible fellow, 
 and had, in some way ingratiated himself 
 into his master's favour. He knew Sir Ed- 
 ward's weakness for any sort of justice busi- 
 ness, and he managed to make him believe 
 that there would shortly be work for him in 
 that way with poachers, who were to be 
 secured by means of his own vigilance, cour- 
 age, and energy. He enlarged so much on 
 his doings and intentions, that Sir Edward 
 began to feel quite satisfied that he had pro- 
 cured in the place of old Pratt, an excellent 
 active gamekeeper. 
 
 Philip Moreton, however, thought diffe- 
 rently; from various circumstances, he sus- 
 pected that the man was a dishonest, ill- 
 tempered fellow. 
 
 On one occasion he had seen him, in a 
 passion, ill-use a young dog, and had re- 
 
EOYDENHURST. 175 
 
 monstrated with liim. At another time, his 
 neglect of some valuable pointers was so palp- 
 able that he had ventured to speak to his 
 uncle, who had him up, and reprimanded 
 him. He knew, however, how to get into 
 favour again with his master ; but he never 
 forgave Mr. Moreton for his interference. 
 
 A favourite retriever of his died about this 
 time, and it was said that the dog had been 
 poisoned. However that might be, certain it 
 was that the gamekeeper hated the Heir, as 
 Philip Moreton was always called. 
 
 One day when Sir Edward was out super- 
 intending some planting, he met his nephew, 
 just returned from shooting. 
 
 '' Had good sport, Phil ? " he asked. 
 " No, uncle ; the birds are very scarce." 
 " Where have you been — far ? " 
 "Yes; to the farthest wood." 
 *' Did you take Perkins with you ? " 
 " No," said Philip, " I never take him. I 
 don't like the man, or his countenance." 
 " Not like his countenance, Phil ! Why, 
 
176 EOTDENHURST. 
 
 what lias tliat to do with a man's activity 
 and vigilance ? He tells me he is up half the 
 night looking after poachers ; and I am sure 
 there are some about, for I hear guns fre- 
 quently at night." 
 
 '' Yes," said his nephew, " I heard a gun 
 last night, and I dare say if Mr. Perkins is so 
 vigilant he will soon bring the offender before 
 you, uncle." 
 
 " No doubt, no doubt ; and I'll punish the 
 rascal," said Sir Edward. 
 
 A few days after this conversation, as Mr. 
 Moreton was riding down the avenue, the 
 boy, who was under his own groom, ran on to 
 open the gate ; here he stopped, and, looking 
 up at his master, said — 
 
 '' Please, sir, I wants to speak to you." 
 " Well, Sam, what is it you have to say ? " 
 " Why, sir, when I knows what I knows, T 
 says to myself, ' Sam, if .you don't speak out 
 all you knows, may be you'll get into trouble, 
 Sam ;' so I determined, sir, to tell you, and 
 nobody else, all I knows." 
 
EOTDENHURST. 177 
 
 " Well, speak out, boy. What is it ? " 
 
 " Why, sir, Mr. Perkins, sir, he don't do 
 right by his master, sir. He thinks I be 
 asleep, and so I were, till night after night 
 the same noises woke me up, sir, and at last 
 I determined to find out what it was. So the 
 night before last, sir, I crept softly down and 
 watched Mr. Perkins. He had just come in, 
 and I seed a lot of birds and hares on the 
 floor. Presently I seed him stoop down and 
 begin to unscrew the boards of the floor ; 
 then he put a hamper down underneath, with 
 all the game packed into it, sir. He screwed 
 it all up again, and then, sir, I made haste 
 back to bed. He looked in as he passed, but 
 he thought I was asleep, sir." 
 
 '' When did this happen ? " said Mr. More- 
 ton. 
 
 " Wednesday night, sir." 
 
 " Not last night ? " 
 
 " No, sir. Perhaps he may go out again 
 to-night, for the hamper was not full, sir. I 
 
 VOL. I. N 
 
178 BOYDENHUEST. 
 
 knows lie sent off a box to London about ten 
 days ago." 
 
 " Well, Sam, you have done perfectly right 
 to tell me. Say not a word of all this to any 
 . other person." 
 
 " ISTo, sir; I did not mean to." 
 
 Mr. Moreton rode away ; he had business 
 to do in the small town about seven miles 
 from the Hall, and there he was detained until 
 near dinner time. 
 
 After dinner he and his uncle sat talking 
 pleasantly over their wine. Mr. Moreton 
 generally read aloud when they repaired to 
 the library. 
 
 To-night, however, Sir Edward was more 
 than usually talkative, so that it was late 
 when he rose from his chair to retire to his 
 room. Outside the door he stopped — 
 
 " Ah," he said, " I hope Perkins is keeping 
 a sharp look-out to-night. There are poachers 
 about. Phil, did you hear that gun ? " 
 
 "Yes; I think I did, uncle." 
 
EOYDENHTJRST. 179 
 
 Mr. Moreton was not surprised at the com- 
 munication made to him by the boy. He had 
 always felt sure that the gamekeeper would 
 be found to be himself the poacher. He 
 retired to his room, and from a shelf took 
 down a small pistol, which he loaded, and 
 then quietly left the house. 
 
 The gamekeeper s cottage was situated 
 about half a mile off. It stood alone, on the 
 outside of a coppice. Sam had directed him 
 to go to a window at the back of the cottage; 
 he would see there that what he had told him 
 was true. 
 
 Philip accordingly stationed himself close 
 to this window. Everything was still, and he-' 
 remained for some time without hearine: a 
 sound. At last he thought he heard the 
 latch of the little gate in front of the house 
 fall. Then the opening of a door. There 
 was some one in the cottage now. He dis- 
 tinctly heard footsteps moving in the room 
 beyond. 
 
180 EOTDENHTJRST. 
 
 He had not long to wait before Perkins 
 entered the room into whicli lie was looking. 
 The man threw down a quantity of game ;. 
 then he unscrewed the boards, just as the 
 boy had described, and lifted out a hamper, 
 into which he put the game, and restored it 
 to its hiding-place. 
 
 In another moment all would have been 
 secured. Mr. Moreton lost no time, but as 
 quickly as possible got round the house and 
 entered the room, where Perkins sat on a low 
 bench, with his back to the door. He turned 
 just as Mr. Moreton seized him by the collar. 
 
 " The devil ! and who are you ? " the man 
 cried out. 
 
 " You scoundrel ! you villain ! This is your 
 vigilance, is it ? This your confounded hum- 
 bug to my uncle ! " 
 
 Perkins was a strong, robust man. He 
 soon freed himself from Mr. Moreton's grasp. 
 But passion, hatred, and revenge, like a fire 
 smouldering till a breath of air brings forth 
 the flame, now burst in fury from the man. 
 
EOTDENHURST. 181 
 
 " You ! the heir ! I'll soon put an end to 
 jou and your heirship." 
 
 Saying this, and seizing a knife, he flew at 
 Mr. Moreton with savage rage. 
 
 At that instant Mr. Moreton drew the pistol 
 from his pocket. 
 
 " Stay your hold," he said, " or I'll fire in 
 self defence." 
 
 But revenge was sweeter than life at that 
 moment to the ferocious man, who made an 
 effort to seize the pistol. A desperate struggle 
 ensued. Mr. Moreton had the advantage 
 of height ; but the gamekeeper's strength, 
 maddened by passion, and hatred was in- 
 creased. On they went, knocking everything 
 down in the scuffle. 
 
 At last the man made a desperate effort to 
 plunge the knife into his adversary's throat ; 
 in so doing he let go Mr. Moreton's arm, who 
 instantly fired, and the gamekeeper fell sense- 
 less on the ground. 
 
 For some moments Philip Moreton felt 
 almost stunned and faint from loss of blood, 
 
182 EOTDENHUEST. 
 
 which from his face and neck came streaming 
 down. 
 
 His presence of mind, however, did not 
 forsake him. He grasped tightly the wound 
 in his neck, then he attempted to open the 
 window, but his arm was injured. He was 
 about to make another attempt when at that 
 moment help from the Hall arrived. 
 
EOYDENHURST. 183 
 
 CHAPTER XXII. 
 
 We left Mr. Shuffles about to enjoy a sub- 
 stantial supper. But now lie sits thinking 
 over his late eventful excursion, and how 
 cleverly he had "hit off" the business part 
 with his old friend Drum, and how he should 
 keep that encounter dark from Ju. A smile 
 of satisfaction rested on his countenance, as 
 lie felt more and more pleased with himself. 
 He was roused from his reverie by Mrs. 
 Bartholomew Shuffles, who, seeing her hus- 
 band's appetite had been appeased, said — 
 
 " Bart, dear, you have not told me half I 
 want to know about the old place." 
 
 " My dear, I never can talk when I am 
 suffering from a sinking," said Mr. Shuffles, 
 putting himself into a more comfortable posi- 
 tion. 
 
184 EOYDENHURST. 
 
 " Now that I have had something to eat 
 let us look at this, Ju," pulling out his pocket- 
 book, and turning over the leaves. " Oh, 
 here it is. ' Roydenhurst.' " 
 
 " Who is living there now ? " asked Mrs. 
 Shuffles. 
 
 " Mr. Fortiswood. They say he married 
 all of a hurry out of spite, hoping to have an 
 heir, and tie the property down, so that none 
 of the old family should ever buy it back." 
 
 " But, Bart, dear, there don't appear to be 
 any of 'em left; if so be this ' advantage ' is 
 Mr. Eichard's will. But there," she added in 
 a depreciating tone, " I don't suppose 'tis 
 much to be got after all, and the trouble and 
 expense to get it — a hundred pounds, per- 
 haps ! " 
 
 '^ Now, Julia," remarked Mr. Shuffles, 
 " that's just like you women ! Always ready 
 with a damper. Whenever a man conceives a 
 clever plot, plan, or contrivance, his wife is 
 sure to come and throw her damper upon it 
 
EOTDENHTJRST. 185 
 
 in the form of some stupid conclusion. Well, 
 to be sure, what small ideas you women 
 have ! " he added, " always jumping at con- 
 clusions. You can't reason, as we men do. 
 Now, I put things and facts together, and I 
 have a notion, Ju, that there will be more 
 ■than many hundreds to be got from the ' ad- 
 vantage.' " 
 
 " Oh, you are so clever, dear Bart ; you 
 are sure to see into things, when they look 
 ever so dark and deep to me." 
 
 " "Well, well, yes. Now listen to this, 
 Ju," he said. " You see Mr. Richard Culver- 
 ton went away to make a fortune, and it is 
 thought in the village of Roydenhurst that he 
 is dead ; and most likely that is the case, and 
 that this advertisement is either his will or a 
 sum of money he got at the Diggings. That's 
 my notion of it." 
 
 '' Law ! Bart, dear ! Then we may have a 
 good bit of money. Singular, to be sure, 'tis 
 to think of the ways of Providence ! I can't 
 
186 EOTDENHUEST. 
 
 get it out of my mind — all of 'em gone but 
 me ! Then/' slie added, " I never liked Mrs. 
 ThompsoD, the housekeeper, and 'tis a most 
 aggravating thing to have an elderly single 
 woman, and a disappointed one, too, over young 
 lively females, as we all was then. She was 
 for ever telling us she didn't countenance 
 beaux, as if 'twas easy for them to counten- 
 ance her ! But I mind when my dear Bart 
 came with parcels to the house occasionally 
 for Master, how she and all of 'em tried who 
 should have a chance of such a dear, jaunty, 
 genteel young man, and when 'twas plain 
 who he liked best, I never had no peace, they 
 was all so envious of me." 
 
 " Ah ! " said Mr. Shuffles, looking at him- 
 self in a small bit of glass hung over the 
 mantel -piece, '' there's a great deal in manner, 
 and you women like something light, and 
 airy, and genteel in a man, but there's with- 
 in this " (touching his head) "much to feel 
 proud of, Mrs. Shuffles !— courage, magnani- 
 mity of thought." 
 
ROYDENHURST. 187 
 
 " Oil, yes, I do. But liowever, dear Bart, 
 How will you get over the difficulty ? You see 
 it's two sisters that's wanted." 
 
 "Yes, my dear. The eldest, you know, 
 was an invalid — fortunately. So we can keep 
 her in the background. Now, you are fco 
 represent — let me see " — he took out his 
 note-book and said — '' We must learn our 
 lessons perfectly, Jnlia. Ah, yes, here it is. 
 You are to personate Miss Laura Culverton 
 — that's the name of the youngest." 
 
 "Oh, yes; I remember her a child. She 
 was so pretty, Bart." 
 
 " Of course ; and you are to represent 
 her," he said, giving his wife a chuck under 
 the chin. 
 
 " Oh, you dear man ! " 
 
 " Now, Julia, listen to me. I shall appear 
 only as your legal adviser — don't forget, 
 legal adviser — and by certain family docu- 
 ments which I shall produce, in all probability 
 it will be satisfactorily concluded that you 
 are one of the ladies in question ; then^ 
 
188 EOYDENHURST. 
 
 should the advantage be any large fortune — 
 landed property, or, in fact, anything large, 
 requiring a support — of course, naturally, you 
 marry your legal adviser, and he takes your 
 name ! There, can anything be more happily 
 arranged ? Clever man, your husband, Mrs. 
 Shuffles." 
 
 " Oh, yes ; he is. And I'm sure all the 
 Miss Higginses envy me my darling Bar- 
 tholomew." 
 
 At this he looked extremely pleased, and 
 said — 
 
 " Well, now I must go to business, Mrs. 
 Shuffles. Has any one called ? " 
 
 " Only Mr. Piper's clerk for the papers, 
 which I gave him." 
 
 '' That's all right." 
 
 And he went to his little den of a room 
 and perched himself at his desk, while Mrs. 
 Shuffles, having put away the plates, &c., sat 
 down to consider an old silk dress — which, 
 before the enlargement of her prospects she 
 
EOTDENHURST. ISO" 
 
 thouglit would turn out " as good as new ; '* 
 but now — 
 
 " Dear me," she thouglit, " I did not think 
 this silk was so bad. It will never befit me 
 to wear ; it's demeaning mj fingers to work 
 upon it. But Bart shan't see it, he'll say it's 
 very nice." 
 
 And, hearing him coming, she huddled the 
 dress into that safe cupboard, just in time, be- 
 fore he opened the door. 
 
 " Julia, my dear, with all I have to do, and 
 think over and arrange, it's quite necessary 
 that you should keep me up." 
 
 " Keep you up, dear Bart ! yes ; but how 
 shall I do it? Tell me." 
 
 " By nourishment, Mrs. Shuffles." 
 
 "Oh," she said laughing, " I thought you 
 meant keeping you awake." 
 
 " You know, my dear little jewel of a Ju," 
 he added, " I never can think when I feel a 
 sinking." 
 
190 EOYDENHURST. 
 
 CHAPTER XXIII. 
 
 *' Is he dead?" were the first words Philip 
 Moreton spoke, as his groom and others from 
 the Hall bent over the prostrate form of the 
 gamekeeper. 
 
 " I don't know, sir, but I believe he is." 
 Mr. Moreton, turning to some bystander, 
 said — 
 
 " Drive off to Oldbridge, and bring Dr. 
 Hunt back with you, open all the windows, 
 let as much air into the room as possible." 
 
 Oldbridge, the nearest town, was four or 
 five miles off, therefore some delay was un- 
 avoidable ; in the meantime, there lay the 
 poacher in a pool of blood, on the floor, ap- 
 parently dead ; while Philip Moreton sat on 
 an old box, close to the window, death-like 
 in face, one arm immovable, while with the 
 
BOTDENHUEST. 191 
 
 other lie grasped tightly the wound in his 
 neck, the blood trickling over his hand. 
 
 " Good heavens ! Moreton, what has hap- 
 pened? " exclaimed the doctor, as he entered 
 the room, and was about to attend to him, 
 but Philip Moreton said — 
 
 '' No, look at him first," making a move- 
 ment with his foot towards the man on the 
 floor. 
 
 " I see, I see," said Dr. Hunt, " but I 
 believe he is dead," and he proceeded to 
 open the poacher's coat, and to examine his 
 injuries. " He must be instantly removed to 
 the hospital, he is not dead, but I think there 
 is little hope for him, without further ex- 
 amination it is impossible to tell where the 
 ball lies." 
 
 " Yery, well, let everything be done speedily 
 and under your superintendence. Doctor." 
 
 "But let me look at you, Moreton ; why, 
 you have had a narrow escape yourself ! 
 Within a hair's breadth of the artery — I must 
 
192 EOTDENHUEST. 
 
 stop this ; there," tie added, after applying the 
 remedj, '' it won't bleed again, but you will 
 feel it stiff for a day or two." 
 
 " Thank you, that will do ; now Doctor,, 
 hasten off with the man." 
 
 When every one had left the cottage, Mr. 
 Moreton locked the door and put the key 
 into his pocket ; he then proceeded to the 
 Hall, and went at once to his own room ; his 
 own appearance startled him as he passed the 
 glass, his face deadly pale, his shirt covered 
 with congealed blood marks. But his horror 
 at his appearance was nothing compared to 
 the sickening feeling at his heart, the dreadful 
 truth that he had shot a man ! It was true 
 that he had not done so from revenge, nor 
 by accident, but in self-defence ; still, at that 
 moment, he could not think of himself, as in 
 any way a sufferer ; he dwelt only on the bare 
 fact that he had taken away the life of a 
 fellow creature, hurried him, with his crimes 
 upon him, into eternity ! Poor Philip's suffer- 
 
KOYDENHUEST. 198 
 
 ings that night were very great, both in body 
 and mind. From his arm he was in great 
 pain, it was with difficulty he could bear it, 
 and wait for daylight. Sometimes he fell 
 into a sort of sleep, but this was worse than 
 pain, for he was again in that dreadful 
 struggle, acting it over again in his sleep, 
 and torturing that unhappy arm, till agony 
 of pain roused him to perfect consciousness. 
 
 As soon as footsteps were heard about 
 the house he rose ; but was unable to dress 
 himself; he rang the bell for his servant. 
 
 It is very true, that bad news always flies 
 faster than good, and is sure, whatever the 
 tale is, to be exaggerated and varied and 
 every one tells it in a different way. 
 
 At first it was reported that Mr. Moreton. 
 had met the gamekeeper and shot him ; then 
 that he had gone to the cottage, called the 
 man out and shot him, and by some it was 
 said that he had shot him in his bed. The 
 real beginning of the story was known only 
 
 VOL. I. o 
 
194 EOTDENHDEST. 
 
 to Mr. Moreton and Sara, who liad been told 
 not to say a word, and faitlifully obeyed tbis 
 injunction ; no one could get anything from 
 Sam. 
 
 Now wbicb of all these accounts had reached 
 Sir Edward's ears, we do not know, but 
 whatever he had heard almost stunned him 
 with horror. That Williams could not tell 
 him the full particulars irritated him ; he 
 quite believed that his nephew had shot 
 Perkins deliberately, or, at least from a dis- 
 like to him. Enraged, he paced about his 
 room, exclaiming — 
 
 " The madcap boy ! (he always spoke 
 and thought of his nephew as the boy.) The 
 fool! The idiot! What business had he to 
 speak to Perkins, to interfere in any way with 
 him; he told me he disliked the man. I 
 tell you, Williams, he spoke angrily about 
 him only two days ago. He shall suffer, he 
 shall suffer, though he is my nephew ; the 
 law shall have its course, I will not spare him 
 
EOYDENHURST. 195 
 
 because lie is my flesli and blood, justice 
 €ven against bim sball be done." 
 
 Then for a moment be would pause for 
 breatb, but only to burst fortb in fresb anger. 
 
 " Tbe heir of my estates ; the successor to 
 my name and title ; what could have possessed 
 the boy ? He thinks to come over me, but I 
 tell you, Williams, he shall suffer." 
 
 All this time the butler was obliged to 
 remain perfectly silent ; he knew that a word 
 would only irritate his master more ; but, at 
 last he ventured to say — 
 
 '' Depend upon it, sir, Mr. Philip will 
 explain matters." 
 
 '' Explain, what is tliere to explain ? He 
 has shot a man; and, I tell you again, 
 Williams, the law must take its course." 
 
 The butler saw that it was of no use to 
 attempt to pacify him now, so he waited a little 
 longer, and then again addressed his master. 
 
 *' Will you have your chocolate, sir ?" 
 
 " No ! I'il have notliiug till I have seen 
 
196 EOTDENHTJRST. 
 
 that wretclied boy ; send him here as soon' 
 as he leaves his room." 
 
 Mr. Moreton's bell was answered bj John,, 
 his groom, who always waited on him, 
 while Sam took charge of the horses. 
 
 " John, help me here," said Mr. Moreton,. 
 holding up with one hand a boot. 
 
 " I am afraid, sir, that you are very much 
 hurt." 
 
 " My arm, I think, is either broken or 
 sprained." 
 
 A knock at the door was heard, and the 
 old butler made his appearance. Seeing Mr. 
 Moreton's state of helplessness as well as 
 pain, he said — 
 
 " Don't you think, sir, you had better see 
 Dr. Hunt ? " 
 
 ''Yes, I will after breakfast," said Philip. 
 
 When he was dressed, he went down to 
 the library, expecting to find his uncle there. 
 Before long Williams came to say that Sir 
 Edward wished to see him in his room. 
 
EOTDENHURST. 197 
 
 Pliilip's appearance was most pitiable ; 
 his face terribly bruised and swollen, with, 
 large patches of sticking plaster on various 
 parts of it ; his arm in a sling, with the sleeve 
 of his coat hanging loose by his side. He 
 knocked at the door; an impatient voice 
 said — 
 
 " Come in." 
 
 His uncle was seated by the fire, with a 
 little table before him. One look at his 
 nephew was enough; that momenta complete 
 revolution of feeling took place, which 
 changed his whole frame of mind, and the 
 old man burst into tears ! 
 
 They neither of them spoke for some time ; 
 at last, the old man, seizing his nephew's 
 hand and kissing it, while the tears rolled 
 down his cheeks, exclaimed — 
 
 " My boy, my dear boy Phil, I see what 
 you have suffered ; I know it all now ; one 
 of you must have had the death-wound." 
 
 '' Yes, indeed, uncle, it was so ; but let 
 
198 EOYDENHUEST. 
 
 me get a cTiair, and T will sit down by your 
 side and tell you all." 
 
 After everything liad been told, Sir Edward 
 said — 
 
 " Phil, you did right, you waiiied him ; it 
 is a case of self-defence. Still, Phil, there is 
 no witness, you were alone you say ? " 
 
 " Ouly myself apd the man in the cottage," 
 
 " The poaching, Phil, you see, is easily 
 proved, as you say all is left as it was." 
 
 " Yes, and I have the key of the house." 
 
 " After breakfast, I had better go down 
 with you to inspect the place. Pting the bell 
 Phil, and we will go to breakfast. Williams, 
 have the pony carriage got ready in half-an- 
 hour." 
 
 The old butler was surprised at his sub- 
 dued voice, and to " see how his master had 
 come round," as he called it, " to Mr. Philip." 
 When he held the door open for them, he 
 noticed how affectionately the old man looked 
 at his nephew, as he took his arm to go down- 
 stairs. 
 
ROYDEXHURST. 199 
 
 Sir Edward and Philip, od ruaching the 
 cottage, saw a number of people from the 
 village around it ; some in the little garden ; 
 others looking in at the window, anxious to 
 gather intelligence of the dreadful deed ; for, 
 to have seen the house, or even the foot- 
 marks outside, was in the eye of all they 
 met, eager for news, to have been almost 
 witnesses of the whole affair. 
 
 No sooner, however, did Sir Edward's 
 voice, saying, '' What are you doing here ? " 
 reach their ears, than they started away right 
 and left, leaving the place free to the two 
 gentlemen. 
 
 Philip, with difficulty, unlocked the door 
 of the cottage, for he had to use his left 
 hand. It was at last opened, and they pro- 
 ceeded to the next room. How different 
 that room appeared to Philip, as he then 
 entered it with his uncle, from what it did 
 only a few short hours ago ; then,* passion, 
 anger and defence struggled together ; now 
 all was still and cold. The blood-marks on 
 
200 EOYDENHUEST. 
 
 the ground gave such a frightful aspect to 
 the place, that a chill of horror seemed to 
 seize them both as they stood silently side by 
 side. 
 
 "Phil," said Sir Edward, " this is dread- 
 ful," pointing to a quantity of blood on the 
 ground, the chairs, tables, and everything 
 thrown down. 
 
 Philip then drew his uncle's attention to 
 the poacher's contrivance for concealiug his 
 game ; and, lifting up the two boards, the 
 hamper half full of birds and hares was 
 discovered. 
 
 " Phil," said the Baronet, " he was a 
 scoundrel ; " and, had not his heart been sad 
 and heavy on his nephew's account, it is 
 probable that he would have given way to 
 his hot, passionate temper ; but he said very 
 little. 
 
 " Phil, some one must see this besides 
 ourselves ; some other magistrate besides me 
 must seethe man's villainy." 
 
EOYDENHURST. 201 
 
 " Perhaps, uncle, Captain Cravenfield or 
 Mr. Lydford would come over. Shall I 
 send for either ? " 
 
 " Lock the door, Phil, and we will go home 
 and write to one of them to come over as 
 soon as possible." 
 
 Friends, however, had already arrived. On 
 the butler opening the hall door he informed 
 them that — 
 
 " Captain Cravenfield and Mr. Lydford 
 were in the library." 
 
 '' How long have they been here ? " 
 
 " Not more than a quarter of an hour, 
 sir." 
 
 Sir Edward ordered the pony carriage to 
 wait, and in a short time drove back to the 
 cottage with his two visitors. They saw the 
 poacher's place of concealment, and the half- 
 packed hamper of game. 
 
 " Look here," said Captain Cravenfield, 
 taking up a bit of paper which had fallen into 
 the hamper, or else had been placed there. 
 
202 EOTDENHUEST. 
 
 "Listen to this," continued he, reading it. 
 " ' Tell Tiger to call for the hamper at Stag's. 
 Be sure he brings back the empty one after 
 dark.' " 
 
 "Who are Tiger and Stag's?" said Mr. 
 Lydford; '' men of this parish ?" 
 
 " Xo," repHed Sir Edward, " there are 
 neither of these names here." 
 
 "]^o doubt they are fictitious names," 
 suggested Captain Cravenfield. "It's a dodge, 
 that — depend upon it." 
 
 Philip Moreton remained at home. For 
 some time he had been feeling intense pain, so 
 that on account of his arm, as well as to hear 
 tidings of Perkins, he wished to be alone with 
 Dr. Hunt. 
 
 The Doctor looked grave as he advanced 
 towards him ; he saw that he was suffering 
 intense pain. But Philip did not think of 
 his arm at that moment, he dreaded the 
 answer to his question. 
 
 " What about the man, Doctor ? Is he 
 dead ? " 
 
EOTDENHUEST. 20B 
 
 '' I am afraid that I shall find bim so on 
 mj return — if lie revives and is in a slate to 
 bear it, we must probe for tlie ball — but 
 now let me look at your arm ; after examining 
 it, he pronounced it broken. I see I am liuri..- 
 ing you, but I can't help that, and from the 
 length of time it has remained in this state, 
 I am afraid it will be a good while before 
 you will it get right again. I have, how- 
 ever, done all I can do at present. I shall 
 not torture you again in that way." 
 
 " It is a bad business altogether, Doctor, 
 I am afraid," said Philip Moreton. 
 
 " At present the case looks Yerj grave," 
 Dr. Hunt replied. " I will let you hear 
 further to-morrow ; take care of your arm,'* 
 he called, as he left the room. 
 
 Captain Cravenfield, who had, on hearing 
 of the affair, ridden over to the Hall, was 
 Philip Moreton' s great friend and genial 
 companion in all field sports ; but they were 
 very unlike in character, one grave, quiet, 
 and reserved, the other gay and affable, with 
 
204< BOTDENHUEST. 
 
 that suavity and easy manner peculiar to 
 naval men ; a favourite with the fair sex, 
 whose society (unlike his friend) he sought 
 and delighted to find himself in. Captain 
 Cravenfield was an only son ; he lived with 
 his mother and sisters at Foxhoe, a pretty 
 place about twelve miles from Kemberton. 
 The estate belonged to him, but until he 
 married he wished his mother to consider his 
 house her home. 
 
ROTDENHURST. 205 
 
 CHAPTER XXIY. 
 
 " How dull it is liere without the Godfreys, "^ 
 exclaimed John Hartleigh, the Rector's 
 nephew, looking in at the open window of 
 the drawing-room. '' When are they coming 
 back?" 
 
 '^The end of this week, I believe," replied 
 his aunt. " They intended to be absent a 
 month, so I dare say we shall see them at 
 church on Sunday." 
 
 " I shall be glad when they are at home," 
 said Fanny, Mrs. Hartleigh's niece. 'Tor I 
 have brought some duets for Laura to learn 
 with me." 
 
 " And there is Agnes Spencer coming to 
 us on Saturday ; so you won't be dull long, 
 John," said his aunt, smiling. 
 
206 EOYDENHURST. 
 
 " Capital, Aimt Mary. Now you must 
 really rub up your dance music for us," he 
 replied. 
 
 Mr. and Mrs. Hartleigli had no family of 
 their own, but several nephews and nieces, 
 and, being fond of young people, they gene- 
 rally had two or three staying with them. 
 
 John Hartleigh was the Eector's favourite 
 nephew. When not keeping his terms at 
 Oxford he was usually at the Eectory. 
 
 The visit to the sea was drawing to a close 
 and the Miss Godfreys were preparing to 
 return to their little cottage home; which, 
 with their good taste, they had made very 
 pretty. It was thatched, with a rustic veran- 
 dah round it, and covered with roses and 
 honeysuckles ; a gravel path led down to the 
 little gate ; directly opposite, passing over an 
 old stone bridge across the river, was the road 
 leading to the Church and Eectory, shaded 
 by some beautiful beech trees, which grew on 
 the high hedge bank. 
 
EOTDENHURST. 207 
 
 " There," said Laura, holdiDg up a basket, 
 " I have packed all my ocean treasures. I am 
 sorry to leave Sbellbeach." 
 
 " So am I, Laura," replied her sister. 
 *' But I think, on looking over the sketches, 
 we have a great deal to show for the short 
 time we have been here." 
 
 Laura remained silent for some little time, 
 then she eagerly exclaimed — 
 
 " Oh, Jane ! I have just thought of a de- 
 lightful plan." 
 
 " What is it ? You are always planning, 
 Laura." 
 
 " Well, listen to this. Suppose we leave 
 this on Saturday, and go to Exeter Cathe- 
 dral on Sunday ? " 
 
 " Well, really, that will be very pleasant, 
 and it will be giving us an opportunity of 
 seeing the Cathedral." 
 
 '' I am so glad you approve of my plan, 
 Jane ! Shall we keep Tims, or send her on 
 by the coach to Longworth ? " 
 
208 EOYDENHUEST. 
 
 " Slie had better go home and take some of 
 our packages with her, and get our cottage 
 ready for our arrival on Monday." 
 
 When the day for their departure arrived, 
 Mrs. Tims was not quite satisfied to leave her 
 dear ladies, even for two nights, lest they 
 should miss her services. 
 
 Laura's parting charge to her was — 
 
 " Be sure, Tims, to put my sea anemones 
 in water (sea water) as soon as you get 
 home. I hope they will live, they are so 
 beautiful." 
 
 " I will be sure to mind it, miss ; and 
 please. Miss Laura, don't let Miss Jane stand 
 about on the damp stones, and be sure to 
 cross your shawl over your chest, miss, when 
 you come out of the Cathedral, and please 
 miss, don't forget to take up your match- 
 box." 
 
 Many more injunctions she would have 
 given Laura, had not the coach appeared. 
 
 " Indeed, Tims, I will remember all your 
 
EOYDENHTJRST. 209 
 
 kind wishes ; and now, good-bye until Mon- 
 day/' said Laura. 
 
 Some one has remarked that we are obliged 
 to devotion for the noblest buildings that 
 have adorned the world, and that it set men 
 to work on temples and places of public 
 worship, not only that the magnificence of 
 the building might invite the Deity to reside 
 within, but that such stupendous works 
 might open the mind, and fit it to converse 
 with the Divinity of the place. Everything 
 that is majestic imprints an awfulness and 
 reverence on the mind, and strikes it with the 
 natural grandeur of the soul. 
 
 It was with feelings of deep reverence that 
 the sisters entered the grand old Cathedral. 
 The vaulted roof, the solemn grandeur which 
 pervaded the whole place, and the beautiful 
 music, which so elevates the mind, affected 
 poor Jane Godfrey deeply, and for a short 
 time a stifled sob fell occasionally on her 
 sister's ear, as she knelt by her side. She 
 
 VOL. I. P 
 
210 EOTDENH[JE,ST. 
 
 was forcibly reminded of days gone by, when 
 with her mother she used to attend some- 
 times a distant Cathedral, and how could she 
 help thoughts of Roydenhurst, of her mother, 
 and all relating to that loved home and name, 
 rushing into her mind ; then the mystery that 
 hung over that long lost brother. What had 
 become of him ? 
 
 This last thought brought hope and an 
 earnest desire to pray for him, that he might 
 be forgiven, and, if it were the will of God, be 
 restored to them again. 
 
 The beautiful service soothed and com- 
 forted her, and Laura was glad to see that 
 her " plan " had turned out so happy a one 
 for Jane. 
 
 On the following morning they left Exeter, 
 and, without any accident, reached Long- 
 worth ; but Mrs. Tims told them she had been 
 in " such a way " thinking of their travelling 
 so far by themselves, and she had made up 
 her mind she would never leave them again. 
 
ROTDENHURST. 211 
 
 " Why, Tims, we have come quite safely, 
 jou see, and we are only a little tired." 
 
 " Well, yes, Miss Laura ; I am thankful to 
 see you back again, and no harm have hap- 
 pened to you and Miss Jane. Now, please 
 sit down to your tea, for 'tis all ready." 
 
 Tims left the room, but almost immediately 
 returned, saying — 
 
 " Please, Miss Laura, I put all your enemies 
 into the water." 
 
 " Oh, thank you, Tims, it was very good of 
 you to remember it. How odd it is, Jane, 
 that Tims never will call things by their right 
 name ! " 
 
 " It is one of poor faithful Tims' peculiari- 
 ties," replied Jane. 
 
 The next morning was bright, and the 
 little cottage drawing-room looked gay and 
 cheerful, with its pretty chintz furniture. 
 
 " How nice and fresh it all looks," ex- 
 claimed Laura. '' I really think one never 
 fully appreciates ' home, sweet home ' until 
 
212 EOYDENHUEST. 
 
 you go away from it. But what are you 
 thinking about, Jane ? Have you lost any- 
 thing?" 
 
 "Yes, I have. My dear mother's Prayer- 
 book; that dear old red morocco one, with 
 clasps. I was trying to remember where I 
 last saw it." 
 
 *' Did you take it with you to Shellbeach?" 
 
 " Yes, I think so; because, although I don't 
 use it in common, I like to have it with me,, 
 and Tims thinks she saw it at Shellbeach. 
 However, I will write to Mrs. Pope to look 
 about the house for it. I wonder, Laura, if 
 the Hartleighs know of our return ? " 
 
 " Perhaps," replied Laura, '' they do not. 
 After I have praised old Bulbus for the care 
 he has taken of the garden, I will go up to the 
 Eectory." 
 
 On her way, Laura met the Eector, who, 
 instead of proceeding to the village, turned 
 back to the Eectory with her. 
 
 " Well, I am delighted you have come 
 
EOTDENHTJEST. 213 
 
 back, and to hear your sister is stronger," he 
 said. " But how did you like Shellbeach and 
 the sea ? " 
 
 ''Very much; I had never seen the sea 
 before. How beautiful it is, Mr. Hartleigh." 
 
 " I think it very well for a couple of days 
 or so, and then I get heartily tired of it." 
 
 " Have you any nieces staying with you ? " 
 asked Laura. 
 
 " Yes, a house full." 
 
 By this time they had arrived at the Rec- 
 tory, and Mr. Hartleigh, opening the drawing- 
 room door, said — 
 
 *'Mary, I have brought a visitor to see 
 you." 
 
 Every one rose, and advanced to welcome 
 Laura ; and then she was introduced to Miss 
 Spencer, a most fashionably dressed young 
 lady. 
 
 "My dear," said Mrs. Hartleigh, "I really 
 think you have grown ! " tenderly placing her 
 hand on her shoulder, and looking up at her. 
 
214 ROYDENHURST. 
 
 '' Oh, no ! Mrs. Hartleigh ; it is only be-^ 
 cause I am more upright, I suppose." 
 
 " At any rate, you look remarkably well. 
 The place has most certainly agreed with you, 
 my dear." 
 
 " What sea place have you been at, Miss 
 Godfrey ? " asked Miss Spencer. 
 
 " We have been staying at Shellbeach." 
 
 " Is it a nice place ? " 
 
 " Yes, extremely." 
 
 " A military place, I suppose," continued 
 Miss Spencer ; " the hmind played on the 
 esplanaz/rd every evening ? " 
 
 '' Oh, no ; there was nothing of that sort 
 at Shellbeach," exclaimed Laura. 
 
 " Really ! what no bazmd — no military 
 walking about ; an atrociously dull place, 
 Miss Godfrey, you must have found it, I am 
 sure." 
 
 "Not at all," replied Laura, smiling. "It 
 would have quite spoilt the place, and my 
 pleasure, had it been a garrison sea-town, to 
 meet officers everywhere." 
 
EOYDENHUEST. 215 
 
 Here there was a general laugh at this, and 
 John Hartleigh, coming into the room, asked 
 what they were all laughing at ? One of his 
 sisters answered — 
 
 " Here is Laura Godfrey declaring she 
 hates the very sight of an officer." 
 
 " Oh, no, not that," exclaimed Laura. *' I 
 meant that, had Shellbeach been a military 
 place, I should not have been able to wander 
 about alone." 
 
 " But did you not often find it rather dull by 
 the sea. Miss Laura ? " asked Mr. John Hart- 
 leigh. 
 
 " Quite the contrary ; the days were not 
 half long enough for sketching and walking, 
 and enjoying a great many pleasures. I sup- 
 pose, Miss Spencer," she added, ''that you 
 have always lived in a gay town." 
 
 '* Not exactly, Miss Godfrey; indeed, I con- 
 sider Merriton rather a poor place. The balls 
 are not good — so few gentlemen of any con- 
 sequence; but still, I prefer it to your 
 favourite place. I forget what you called it ? " 
 
216 EOYDENHURST. 
 
 " Shellbeacli," said Laura. 
 
 " Ah, yes, Shellbeach ; but fancy, no losiund 
 tliere ! no officers ! " 
 
 " Laura, my dear," Mrs. Hartleigh said, as 
 she was going, " do come up this evening. I 
 do not ask you to dine, because I know you 
 will not leave your sister ; but come up after 
 dinner." 
 
 " Thank you, I will if Jane does not want 
 me." 
 
 "Yes, Laura," said many voices, "do 
 come." 
 
 But it was not to be. The evening proved 
 to be a very wet one, and Laura was not able 
 to go ; and many were the expressions of re- 
 gret and disappointment. 
 
 "Don't you think Laura Godfrey a very 
 pretty, graceful looking girl. Miss Spencer," 
 asked Mr. John Hartleigh, while lounging 
 over the back of her chair in the evening. 
 
 "Well, rather nice looking; but," and she 
 gave a little supercilious laugh, " she wants 
 
EOTDENHUEST. 217 
 
 a little more style — I mean in dress," she 
 said. 
 
 Now the matter of dress was one on which 
 the good Rector was very particular. He 
 had his own opinions about that subject, and 
 lie had once or twice alluded to it in his ser- 
 mons, wishing, he observed, to keep the young 
 women of his parish in their natural modesty, 
 and to show them how, by endeavouring to 
 outshine each other in such frivolous matters 
 as dress and fashion, they were unfitting 
 themselves for higher duties — duties which 
 he hoped they would all be called upon to 
 perform. But how could they become 
 faithful wives and tender mothers, if at that 
 important period of life — their youth — the 
 mind was given up to vanity ? And the 
 love of dress, he told them, led to many 
 evils, and was one of vanity's most powerful 
 weapons. 
 
 It was not, therefore, surprising that Mr. 
 Hartleigh, hearing Miss Spencer's remark on 
 
218 EOTDENHUEST. 
 
 his favourite Laura's dress, could not let it 
 pass. 
 
 " I do not at all agree witli you," he said. 
 " Miss Laura Godfrey is, in my opinion, a 
 pattern of good taste — which is, never appear- 
 ing in anything that attracts attention, yet 
 always wearing the right thing, for whatever 
 the ' style ' as you call it may be, she comes 
 out her title of the ' perfect lady.' " 
 
 " I am sure," remarked Mrs. Hartleigh, " it 
 requires a great deal of courage to adopt 
 some of the fashions in which I have seen the 
 plainest and oldest people appear." 
 
 "Well," said the Hector, "let old ladies 
 dress as they please ; but, for my part, I 
 think to see young ladies now-a-days trying, 
 by their costume, to imitate the opposite sex, 
 is very lamentable, and shows the want of a 
 nice delicate feeling of taste, and also a want 
 of proper cultivation in the female mind." 
 Saying this the Rector left the room. John 
 Hartleigh, who was at the farther end of the 
 
ROYDENHUEST. 219 
 
 room making flies for a fishing expedition, 
 thonglit his nncle had been rather hard on 
 Miss Spencer. Immediately the door closed, 
 he went over to where his aunt was sitting, 
 and said — 
 
 " Come, Aunt Mary, do please give us a 
 little dance music. We will move the table 
 and chairs out of the way." 
 
 " Yes, John ; I will play anything you like, 
 with pleasure." 
 
 " Oh ! " exclaimed Miss Spencer, " I am 
 so glad we are going to daunce. I do so 
 doat on dauncing — don't you, Mr. John?" 
 
 "Yes. I think it is delightful; shall we 
 have a valse ? " 
 
 : And presently they were spinning round 
 the room. The lady, at last exhausted, threw 
 herself on a chair. 
 
 " 0, I could daunce on for ever." 
 
 " With me, you mean. Miss Spencer ? " 
 
 " I did not say so." 
 
 '' No, but you meant it." 
 
220 ROTDENHURST. 
 
 "0, what a naughty man you are, Mr. 
 John, to read thoughts." 
 
 " I am. Miss Spencer, a great reader of the 
 mind. It is one of the things we have to 
 pass an examination in at Oxford, and I assure 
 you it is a very stiff one." 
 
 " It is," said Miss Spencer. " I am sure 
 I should be frightened to death if any one 
 examined me." 
 
 " Would you, Miss Spencer," said John, 
 making her a bow, " if the subject happened 
 to be the heart instead of the mind ? " 
 
 "0, Mr. John, what a teaze you are ! 
 You want to find out my secrets." 
 
 Here one of his sisters came up. 
 
 " John, we are waiting for you and Miss 
 Spencer." 
 
 " Your brother has been so amusing. He 
 daunces so beautifully ; it is quite delightful 
 to have such a partner." 
 
 She took care to say this loud enough for 
 Mr. John to hear, as he led her away to the 
 quadrille. 
 
EOTDENHUEST. 221 
 
 " Have you ever been to Oxford, Miss 
 Spencer?" 
 
 ''No. I should like to go so mucli." 
 
 " Well, come up while T am there ; and I 
 will show you everything, and invite you to 
 lunch at my rooms." 
 
 '' Oh, thank you. How I wish that I could 
 go. But pau and mau are so indifferent 
 about leaving home. I believe they would 
 stay at home for ever, if I did not make 
 them go somewhere in the summer." 
 
 "You must find it very dull." 
 
 " Indeed, Mr. John, I do sometimes; for 
 pau and mau are getting so old, they don't 
 like to go to balls, so that sometimes T have 
 gone by myself. But that's a secret, you 
 know." 
 
 <• Yery well. You may depend on my not 
 betraying you." 
 
 "It is so tantalising to be so fond of 
 balls, and not to be able to go ; is it not, 
 Mr. John?" 
 
 " Certainly," he said, making her a pro- 
 
222 ROYDENHURST. 
 
 found bow, ''especially when you dance so 
 well." 
 
 " Oh, do you think I daunce well ? I am 
 so glad you have told me, for now I shall not 
 feel so nervous when I see you are looking at 
 me." 
 
 The conversation was interrupted by a 
 pause in the music. 
 
 '' If you are not tired out, will you just 
 play one valse more, aunt," said Mr. John. 
 
 " Eemember, it must be the last," she 
 answered. 
 
 When it was over. Miss Spencer gave ia 
 sigh, saying — 
 
 " Oh, I am so sorry it is the last." 
 
 '' I suppose it is because I am going away 
 to-morrow. Miss Spencer, that you look so 
 sad." 
 
 " Oh, Mr. John, teazing me again," she said. 
 '' I had intended to ask you a favour." 
 
 " Certainly. Pray what is it ? " 
 
 " When we next meet it must be — not now." 
 
EOYDENHURST. 223 
 
 " Oh, but. Miss Spencer, you can tell me 
 what it is now. Think of mj agony of sus- 
 pense. Why, it may mar all my hopes and 
 prospects at Oxford to go away with your 
 untold favour pressing heavily on my heart." 
 
 "It is not anything very great, Mr. John; 
 it is only to ask you to teach me to make 
 those darling little flies. I think it must be 
 such sweet work." 
 
 " That is a most charming thought. Miss 
 Spencer ; then you will make them for me, 
 and I shall value them as treasures, indeed 
 almost too precious to throw into the water ! 
 You must give them all to me, now re- 
 member, if I teach you the art of making 
 flies." 
 
 " Well — yes — I suppose I must ! Then 
 it is an understood thing, that you are to 
 make all my flies, and I am to catch with 
 them all that I can." 
 
 " John ! " exclaimed his sister Fanny, 
 " what time do you go your fishing expedition 
 
224 EOTDENHUEST. 
 
 to-morrow, because Laura is coming to learn 
 a trio with us ? " 
 
 " I am off early, but try to keep her for the 
 evening — when we can both dance and sing — 
 can't we, Miss Spencer ? " 
 
 "Oh, that will be delightful, Mr. John; 
 but you won't be back very late, will you,'" 
 she said, looking beseechingly at him. 
 
EOTDENHURST. 225 
 
 CHAPTER XXV. 
 
 For some days the inmates of Kemberton 
 Hall were in a most anxious state. Philip 
 Moreton suffered much in his arm. Sir 
 Edward was nervous and irritable, and the 
 gamekeeper's life was in great danger — a 
 gloom was cast over the house, even to the 
 servants' hall. 
 
 The Baronet and his nephew were sitting 
 one morning, both silent and depressed, when 
 Dr. Hunt was announced. The instant 
 Philip looked at him he knew by his expres- 
 sion that he had news of some sort to com- 
 municate. 
 
 '* I have come over rather earlier than 
 usual, Sir Edward, to tell you that last night 
 Lockwood was successful in extracting the 
 
 VOL. I. Q 
 
226 EOTDENHTJRST. 
 
 ball ; the fellow bore it better than we 
 thought he would." 
 
 "You don't say so— found, is it!" ex- 
 claimed the Baronet. "I am thankful to 
 hear it," and taking the Doctor's hand he 
 shook it heartily, saying — " You have made 
 me a happier man. Doctor, than I have been 
 even since the affair, but how is the fellow ? 
 Don't let him die. Ah, don't let him cheat 
 the law." 
 
 '' Not if I can help it. Sir Edward ; he is 
 very weak, and that is now our fear. How- 
 ever, he passed a better night than I ex- 
 pected." 
 
 "Is there anything he wants?" asked 
 Philip Moreton. 
 
 "No; he is well taken care of at the 
 hospital, and very comfortable. He must 
 have a wonderful constitution. What he has 
 gone through would have killed many men." 
 
 " Is he sensible ? " asked Sir Edward. 
 
 " Yes, now ; but he is an excitable fellow. 
 
EOYDENHURST. 227 
 
 I don't like his talking mucli, and I have 
 some difficulty to prevent it. I am afraid, 
 Moreton, he has not forgiven you." 
 
 " I dare say not. I have not forgotten 
 him/' said Philip, touching his arm, which 
 was still in a sling. 
 
 " Let me see your arm," said the Doctor. 
 " There, does that hurt you?" he asked, as 
 he tried to put it straight. 
 
 " Yes ; very much." 
 
 " Then it will be another fortnight or more 
 l)efore you leave off the splint. Patience is 
 now, Moreton, your best cure." 
 
 As he was rising so leave, Sir Edward 
 said — 
 
 " Your news. Doctor, has cheered me 
 wonderfully. Keep the man up — don't let 
 him die. Remember I have a bit of justice 
 work in store for him. Ah ! he shan't escape 
 it; we will have the fellow up." Then 
 turning to his nephew, and patting him on 
 the shoulder — 
 
228 EOTDENHUEST. 
 
 " Cheer up, Phil, my boy ! I am so de- 
 lighted the ball is found, that I must drive 
 over and tell Lydford. What do you say to 
 the drive, eh ? " 
 
 " I shall be very glad to go with you, 
 uncle. He will be pleased to hear the news.'' 
 
 " Then ring the bell. We will go at once.'* 
 
 ''Williams, tell the coachman to bring the 
 carriage round immediately." Then recollect- 
 ing that faithful servant's interest and anxiety 
 for his nephew, he shouted after him as he 
 shut the door — 
 
 " Williams ! Williams !" 
 
 "Yes, Sir Edward," said the old servant 
 as he re-appeared. 
 
 "Ho, the ball is found, the man will 
 recover, and I shall have him up before me 
 ere long in the court of justice." 
 
 '' Sir, I am very glad to hear it," and the 
 worthy man hastened to the servants' hall, 
 where every one gathered round him to hear 
 the welcome news, and to comment on the 
 
EOYDENHURST. 229 
 
 probable punishment, all agreeing tliat 
 nothing would be too bad, for the man 
 who so nearly " did " for Mr. Philip he ought 
 to be hung, or at all events sent out of the 
 country for life. 
 
 In the meantime, the uncle and nephew 
 were on their way to Mr. Lydford's. 
 Although Sir Edward was in a state of great 
 delight and excitement, he could not let an 
 unfortunate man, who was reposing in his 
 cart as he drove along, escape without 
 demanding his name and address, and 
 threatening him, at all events, with a 
 summons. 
 
 They then proceeded, and paid their visit, 
 and on their way home some loose horses in 
 the road arrested Sir Edward's attention. 
 
 " Stop ! " he cried out to the coachman. 
 ''Whose horses are these?" he asked of a 
 boy who was passing. 
 
 " Don't know, sir." 
 
 "Well, drive every one of them to the 
 
230 EOTDENHURST. 
 
 pound. The owners shall pay ; no business 
 to keep their horses in the road. There, 
 Phil," he said, turning to his nephew, "mind, 
 when you are in my shoes, you look out for 
 justice, wherever you go. But who's this 
 riding to meet us ?" 
 
 " Captain Cravenfield," answered Philip. 
 " You remember, uncle, you asked him over 
 to shoot for a day or two." 
 
 " Ah, so I did. Glad to see you, Captain ! 
 Have you heard the news ? " 
 
 "No. What is it?" 
 
 " The ball is found — is extracted. The 
 man will do now; we'll have him up. 
 Captain." 
 
 On alighting at the hall door. Sir Edward 
 asked the butler how long it was to dinner. 
 
 " The half-hour bell has just sounded. Sir 
 Edward." 
 
 " That's right. We have had a busy day 
 of it. Captain. What with the news, and 
 summonsing and pounding, I hope now to 
 
ROTDENHUEST. 231 
 
 have a little grinding, for I am as hungry as 
 a hunter." 
 
 While at dinner Captain Cravenfield re- 
 marked — 
 
 "We had a capital run yesterday; we 
 threw off at Diggersdale, and the fox was 
 killed at Barley Wood — it was a large field, 
 but we missed Moreton and his splendid 
 hunter." 
 
 " Ah," said Sir Edward, " he may thank that 
 villain Perkins for spoiling his hunting this 
 season." 
 
 " Oh, no, uncle, not entirely ; I hope to be 
 mounted again soon. I shall be at the next 
 meet. Where is it to be ? " 
 
 " I think at Five Oaks, on the 13th ; but, 
 Moreton, I hope you won't be so rash as to go 
 out until that arm of yours is all right." 
 
 " Don't fear for me, Cravenfield ; I am so 
 used to the saddle, that I believe I could do 
 without this," giving his arm a slight move. 
 
 " Ah ! that he could. Captain," remarked 
 
232 EOYDENHURST. 
 
 the old Baronet, whose countenance beamed 
 with pride and satisfaction as he gazed 
 fondly on the fine manly figure of his 
 nephew. '' Ah ! Phil," he said, " is first-rate 
 in the saddle — nothing like early training, 
 Captain. Why, I don't think Phil was nine 
 years old when he took his fences like the 
 rest of us. He had plenty of pluck, and that 
 is about the chief thing a boy wants. Ah ! I 
 rememl)er," he added, looking with admiration 
 and delight at Philip, " how old Daulby, the 
 best whipper in I ever had, used to talk and 
 rejoice over Master Phil's feats ! Why, he 
 was as proud of him, Captain, as of his pet 
 hound," he said, rising from his chair and 
 gathering up some papers by his side ; " but, 
 now, gentlemen, I must leave you to do 
 justice to my port, while I go and do the 
 same to this new Vagrant Act." 
 
 " Moreton," said Captain Cravenfield," now 
 it is all safe about the poacher's life, can't 
 you come over to Poxhoe for a few days ? 
 You have nothing to do here." 
 
ROYDENHURST. 233 
 
 " Thank you, Captain, not at present ; I 
 <ion't like to leave my uncle." 
 
 " Why ! I never saw Sir Edward better ; 
 lie has ■ taken a new lease of life ; his spirits 
 are capital." 
 
 '' Yes, he does seem very well ; all this jus- 
 tice work is doing him good." 
 
 " Then do come back with me to-morrow, 
 Moreton." 
 
 Well, I really will go over for a couple of 
 days soon; but not now." 
 
 " Oh, yes, so you always say ; I believe it 
 is the old story, Moreton — afraid of the ladies. 
 Well, a man with five sisters is rather a for- 
 midable fellow to visit ; but really you won't 
 see much of them. I'll give out that you are 
 not a marrying man." 
 
 "As to that, Cravenfield, I should think it 
 was a pretty well known fact by this time ; 
 but come, let me show you my sanctum," and 
 he led the way along a passage, at the end of 
 which was a door. Taking a key from his 
 pocket, he said — 
 
234 EOYDENHURST. 
 
 " I never let any one in here, Craven- 
 field." 
 
 It was a small room, full of curiosities. 
 On one wall hung numerous skeletons of 
 birds, fisli, and on shelves were bones and 
 heads of animals ; while every variety of 
 fishing-rods, spears, guns, and hunting-whips 
 hung about the room. 
 
 " Why, this is a regular museum, Moreton. 
 Where did you collect these curiosities ? " 
 
 "From Australia, and other places. Do yoa 
 remember a splendid mare I had, called 
 Peg ? " 
 
 " Yes, years ago." 
 
 " Well, there she is — or rather, her head," 
 said Philip, pointing to a skull on a shelf. 
 
 " That's a nice idea of yours, Moreton. Is 
 this the way you preserve your old friends ? 
 Perhaps you'll give my head, arm, or leg a 
 place here some day ? " 
 
 " Oh, yes, certainly. I mourn over the 
 bones of my faithful friends. ' Ah, Peg, I 
 
EOTDENHURST. 235 
 
 shall never have sucli anotlier friend in tlie 
 field as you.' We have had many an adven- 
 ture together." 
 
 " When did you go to Australia, Moret on ?" 
 asked his friend. 
 
 '' Soon after I left Oxford. I think that 
 you, Cravenfield, were in the 'Frolic' on the 
 coast of Africa ? I was absent travelling for 
 nearly two years ; but now we will return to 
 the library, and hear my uncle's opinion on 
 the new Vagrant Act," he said, as he pre- 
 pared to lock the door of his sanctum. 
 
236 EOYDENHUEST. 
 
 CHAPTER XXYI. 
 
 ^' Miss Godfrey, I have left your sister at the 
 Eectorj, singing most dehghtfully — T never 
 heard a sweeter voice; and now I am come 
 to have a chat with you," said Mr. Hart- 
 leigh, as he seated himself. 
 
 " That is very kind. Yes," she replied, 
 " Laura has a nice voice ; but, indeed, she 
 owes much to Mrs. Hartleigh. I am sure, 
 if we had not fallen in with such kind, true 
 friends, poor Laura's taste for music and 
 singing would never have been cultivated." 
 
 " Well, that would have been a loss and 
 misfortune to herself, as well as to her friends. 
 Miss Godfrey." 
 
 " True," and Jane gave a little sigh, " I 
 Jiave, indeed, Mr. Hartleigh, much to be 
 
EOYDENHUEST. 237 
 
 thankful for. How difficult it is to express 
 gratitude." 
 
 "Yes/' he replied, it is more difficult to 
 praise than to pray; the former needs no 
 return ; but to give more love, more faith 
 and praise, to our Heavenly Father, ought 
 to be our daily striving." 
 
 "Ah. yes; but with all our striving," 
 said Jane, " we never can feel satisfied." 
 
 "No," he replied, "nor ought we to be." 
 
 " Mr. Hartleigh," said Jane, '' I have long 
 been thinking that it is somewhat ungrateful, 
 or, perhaps, not showing how fully I value 
 your and Mrs. Hartleigh' s kind friendship, 
 not to tell you our story. It is a sad 
 one." 
 
 " Dear Miss Godfrey," the Rector replied, 
 looking at her with true interest, " you may 
 ba sure of our sympathy ; and, if there is 
 anything in our power to do for you, I need 
 not say how happy my wife and myself will 
 be at all times to be called upon." 
 
238 EOYDENHUEST. 
 
 " Thank you very mucb ; the breaking up 
 of a father's house, Mr. Hartleigh, is at all 
 times a painful change." 
 
 She then told him of everything relating 
 to Roydenhurst and her long lost brother. 
 He listened attentively, and thanked her for 
 so truly considering him a friend. 
 
 " Have you never heard from your brother 
 since ? " 
 
 " No, not since that letter to my dear 
 mother, and indeed now I have almost given 
 up hope." 
 
 "No, Miss Godfrey, never give up hope ; 
 it gives the mind serenity, and relieves it from 
 unnecessary sorrow and disquietude. ' Suffi- 
 cient unto the day is the evil thereof.' Hope 
 is given us under every trial. From whence 
 did your brother date this letter of which you 
 speak ? " 
 
 '' Some place in New South Wales ; he was 
 then going to try his fortune at sheep 
 farming." 
 
ROYDENHUEST. 239 
 
 '' Oh," said tlie Rector, '' how many young 
 men have tried that and failed." 
 
 " Yes, indeed," replied Jane, with a sigh. 
 
 At this moment Laura was seen entering in 
 at the little gate, and Mr. Hartleigh took his 
 leave. 
 
 '' Well, my dear, he said to her," as he met 
 lier, " have you had a nice singing lesson ? " 
 
 " Yes, very, Mr. Hartleigh ; and see, I am 
 as usual loaded with books from the Rectory 
 for Jane." 
 
 The Rector told his wife that evening Miss 
 Godfrey's communication. 
 
 " "Well, I'm very glad they have confided 
 their story to us ; of course we shall never 
 call them by their right name," said Mrs. 
 Hartleigh. 
 
 " Xo, certainly not, nor are we at liberty to 
 mention anything we know about them. I 
 was sure that some reverse of fortune had 
 brought them to the little cottage, and that 
 they were well born." 
 
240 ROTDENHURST. 
 
 " But what do you think, John, about the 
 brother?" 
 
 " Well, I hardly know, it is certainly a long 
 time since he has been heard of. It seems 
 altogether a sad story." 
 
BOTDENHUEST. 241 
 
 CHAPTER XXYII. 
 
 The arrival of Sir Edward Moreton's carriage, 
 with three gentlemen seated within, caused 
 quite a sensation as it drove through the town 
 of Oldbridge, and stopped at the Town Hall 
 on the first day of the Assizes. 
 
 The old Baronet was greeted by numerous 
 friends, and complimented on his good looks. 
 
 " Why, Sir Edward," said one, " you look 
 ten years younger than when I saw you last 
 in this justice-room." 
 
 "Ah," he replied, "you will see me some 
 years yet here, I hope, vigorously insisting on 
 the preservation of our rights, in order to 
 secure a man keeping the peace both with 
 himself and others." 
 
 The court was very full, and many ladies 
 
 vol.. I. E 
 
242 EOTDENHURST. 
 
 were there, with, the hope of catching a sight 
 of the eccentric old Baronet, and, as they 
 considered him, his eccentric nephew, the rich 
 Phihp Moreton, heir to the estates and title, 
 but who was so impregnable to all arts of 
 fascination and beanty that it had almost 
 become a county proverb to say, when speak- 
 ing of him, "he is growing into a rusty old 
 bachelor." 
 
 There he stood by his uncle's side, looking 
 anything but '' rusty," yet immovable, so 
 provokingly dull to those civilities, those 
 delicate attentions and little plots of pleasant 
 society proposed to him by the mothers of 
 daughters, year after year, that to get after 
 all merely a bow of recognition and polite- 
 ness was most tantalising ; while the young 
 ladies remarked to one another, "Well, 
 really, he does give an extremely graceful 
 bow ! But look ! there is Captain Craven- 
 field ; don't you know him ? Oh, he is so 
 handsome, so pleasant and agreeable — it is a 
 
EOTDENHTJEST. 243 
 
 pity he does not make his friend a little more 
 like himself." 
 
 But now barristers in their wigs and gowns 
 seem to multiply every moment — then there 
 was a lull in the court, when the judge took 
 his seat and the prisoner at the bar appeared. 
 
 " Ah, you look paler and less robust," thought 
 Sir Edward, " than when I last saw you." 
 
 The prisoner looked around him for a 
 moment, and when his dark eye fell on the 
 object of his search, it was evident by the 
 expression that passed over his countenance, 
 that he had not forgiven Philip Moreton. 
 
 The evidence of the boy Samuel Fryer was 
 taken, and although he was sharply cross- 
 examined, he was not shaken in his statement. 
 The Doctor was another witness, and all 
 those who were at the cottage on the night 
 in question. 
 
 The Judge said — 
 
 '* It was a grave charge brought against 
 the prisoner at the bar, one of a murderous 
 
244 ROTDENHUEST. 
 
 nature, an assault with intent to kill. The 
 evidence of Samuel Fryer stated, ' I heard 
 him say to Mr. Moreton, " You, the heir I 
 I'll soon put an end to your heirship ;" now 
 the words, ' put an end to you,' were im- 
 mediately followed by the action, which 
 explained their true meaning ; for the same 
 witness has stated that he saw the prisoner 
 take up a knife and make an attempt to 
 plunge it into his adversary's throat ; Dr. 
 Hunt testifies that the wound was made 
 with a knife, within a quarter of an inch of 
 an artery. Had not Mr. Moreton fired his 
 pistol at that moment, and thereby disabled 
 the prisoner at the bar, in all probability 
 his intention of putting an end to Mr. 
 Moreton' s life might have been carried 
 out." 
 
 The Judge then commented strongly upon 
 the evil consequences that resulted from dis- 
 honest practices, from passion and sudden 
 surprises. " The case," he said, '' was now 
 
EOTDENHURST. 245 
 
 before the jury, and it was for them to 
 decide whether there was an intent to kill.'* 
 
 The jury retired to consider their verdict, 
 but were absent so short a time, that before 
 the usual " nods and becks and wreathed 
 smiles " had relaxed the serious counten- 
 ances of the listening crowd to the Judge's 
 speech, the jury reappeared, when the foreman 
 pronounced the prisoner at the bar, James 
 Perkins, guilty of an assault with intent to 
 kill. He was then sentenced to five years' 
 penal servitude ; a general expression passed 
 from the crowd " that the man had got 
 what he deserved." The Judge had hardly 
 left the court, when Sir Edward rising from 
 his seat, in an audible voice, exclaimed — 
 
 " Gentlemen of the Jury." At once every 
 one in court stood immovable and silent ; 
 while Sir Edward, addressing himself to 
 the Jury, said in a clear loud voice — ''Ah! 
 gentlemen, never was there anything finer 
 said, than ' Justice is the noblest dictate 
 
246 EOTDENHURST. 
 
 issuing from the principles of improved 
 nature, and nature is the law of God^ 
 written in His word.' Justice, gentle- 
 men, came down from Heaven, and des- 
 cended upon mankind, as a communication 
 of Divine perfections, flowiug from Him, 
 whose great attribute is to be ' The Just 
 One,' and the rewarder of every man ac- 
 cording to his works.' That man, the 
 prisoner, robbed me, deceived me, and all 
 but murdered my nephew ! Have I not 
 reason to thank justice for this day's work ? 
 Yes, gentlemen, and I do ! I thank Heaven, 
 my nephew's life was spared, and that the 
 man has lived to hear your verdict, and 
 will now most justly suffer the penalty of 
 the law." 
 
 A murmur of applause arose as the old 
 Baronet ended his speech, and many were 
 the greetings of sympathy and respect 
 offered to him, as, leaning on his nephew's 
 arm, he made his way through the crowd 
 
EOYDENHURST. 247 
 
 to his carriage. Some few days after the 
 trial, Captain Cravenfield rode over to Kem- 
 berton, he said — 
 
 " On purpose to attack his friend Philip 
 to pay him his promised visit to Foxhoe." 
 
 " "Why can't you come to-morrow ? Per- 
 kins' business is over, Sir Edward does not 
 want you. Come, Moreton, say you will 
 come ? " 
 
 " I have business to-morrow, and next day," 
 he replied, "but if Thursday next will suit 
 you, I'll ride over for a couple of days." 
 
 " Very well, then next week, we shall see 
 about the couple of days ; how is Sir 
 Edward after the excitement of last Tuesday ; 
 is he at home ? " 
 
 " Yes, you will find him in the library." 
 
 " Then I will just look in and congratulate 
 him on the success of the trial. Mind, More- 
 ton," he said, as he was leaving the room," my 
 mother will expect you on Thursday, come 
 early; and Moreton," he added smiling, 
 
248 EOYDENHUEST. 
 
 " don't be alarmed at the young ladies. Ill 
 take care of you in that quarter." 
 
 The business which Mr. Moreton said would 
 delay his visit to Foxhoe, was a determination 
 he had made to see the prisoner Perkins. 
 It might be thought, perhaps, derogatory to 
 his dignity, unnecessary, and quite going out 
 of his way to trouble himself further about 
 such a man. '' To love 3^our enemies; to do 
 good to those who despitefully use you," is 
 very well in theory, but is seldom practically 
 observed by the world. Men satisfy them- 
 selves with such fair speeches as, " Oh, we 
 bear no malice ; we have done nothing out of 
 revenge ; we wish to punish for the good of 
 society." This is all very well, but to love our 
 enemy, is to do him all the good that oppor- 
 tunity lays in our way, and many a bad man 
 condemned to penal servitude, the hot-bed of 
 vice and sin, might be preserved from death 
 eternal, if that Divine precept to love our 
 enemies, were not by the world regarded as 
 
EOTDENHURST. 249 
 
 -more for admiration than for practice. True, 
 it is said, to love an enemy is to stretch 
 humanity as far as it will go. It is an heroic 
 action, and such an one as grows not upon 
 an ordinary plebeian spirit." 
 
 Mr. Moreton's intended visit to the prisoner 
 Perkins was with the hope of doing him good. 
 He had made enquiries respecting his family, 
 and learnt that he was a widower with one 
 child, but whether his father and mother 
 were alive, he could not discover. 
 
 He rode over to the town, and went at 
 once to the gaol, where he was taken to the 
 prisoner's cell. 
 
 The man was sitting at a deal table, with 
 his head resting on his arms ; the noise of 
 unlocking the door made him raise his head, 
 but only to drop it again the instant he saw 
 who had entered. 
 
 " Perkins," said Mr. Moreton. 
 
 JSTo answer. 
 
 " Perkins, I am here for your good." 
 
250 EOTDENHURST. 
 
 No words were beard, but a guttural sound 
 in a bitter tone. 
 
 " I am come here," continued Mr. Moreton, 
 " to endeavour to save you — not from punish- 
 ment, that must have its course — but from 
 that sin and misery which will surely bring 
 you into everlasting punishment." 
 
 The man slightly raised his head, and 
 muttered — 
 
 " Hang it ! Don't come here, I say, preach- 
 ing to me. I don't care whether I die or 
 not ; I've had enough of you," and he dropped 
 his head upon his arms again. 
 
 Mr. Moreton saw it was no use to talk to 
 the man of his wicked heart, or bring out 
 religion or texts of Scripture, but to strive to 
 rouse him into humanity if possible. He had 
 been brooding over his bad feelings so long, 
 that he had become too callous and hardened 
 to think of anything else. The past seemed 
 all swallowed up in the present in his mind, 
 and there hatred and revenge held their sway^ 
 At last Mr. Moreton spoke. 
 
EOTDENHTJRST. 251 
 
 " Perkins, do you sometimes think of your 
 boyhood in your father's house, perhaps with 
 brothers and sisters around you, at all events 
 young companions, schoolfellows ? Do you 
 ever think of your mother, your once happy 
 home — can you now remember these things 
 and not care to live ? " 
 
 Here Perkins gave a groan in rather a 
 different tone. 
 
 Mr. Moreton continued — 
 
 " What would your mother feel if she saw 
 you now, and knew all that was in your 
 heart ? " 
 
 He looked up and stared with a less savage 
 and more bewildered look at his interrogator, 
 who went on — 
 
 " I find that you had a wife, and that you 
 have a child ;" here the man again dropped 
 his head on his arms, groaned and sighed 
 heavily. Mr. Moreton had touched the right 
 chord ; memories seemed rushing into the 
 brain, past scenes, places, voices, and once- 
 loved faces, which he had not dared in his 
 
252 EOYDENHURST. 
 
 hardened life to think of, now seemed rising 
 up before him ; remorse was creeping over 
 him. 
 
 Mr. Moreton seized that moment. 
 
 '' Perkins, where is your child ? Are your 
 parents living ?" 
 
 It was enough, passion and grief seized him, 
 and his whole frame shook. He never said a 
 word, but as Mr. Moreton rose to go, he 
 looked up, not any longer with expressions 
 of hatred or revenge in his face, but with a 
 look of terror and despair. 
 
 " I will call to see you again, Perkins ; 
 think what I can do for your child and 
 parents, if you have any living." 
 
 The man stood up, put both his hands to 
 his face, and gave a groan of bitter anguish 
 as the door of his cell closed. 
 
 Mr. Moreton told the governor that he 
 wished to see the prisoner again before he 
 was removed from the gaol. 
 
EOYDENHURST. 25B 
 
 CHAPTER XXYIII. 
 
 Sunday is a social day in our rural villages, 
 groups of country people dressed in their 
 best gear, might be seen coming from every 
 direction to their parish church ; while under 
 the old yew tree in the churchyard, the 
 farmers gather to make agricultural remarks, 
 or discuss the parish politics ; then when the 
 good Rector and his lady arrive, how gracious 
 was the bow, the ready nod, and the drop 
 courtesy which greeted them on every side. 
 Truly, it is said — ''If keeping holy the 
 seventh day were only a human institution,, 
 it would have been the best method that 
 could have been thought of, for the polishing 
 and civilising of mankind." 
 
 *'Howis it your sister is not at church 
 
254 EOYDENHURST. 
 
 this morning, my dear ? " asked Mrs. Hart- 
 leigh, as she overtook Laura. 
 
 '' I am sorry to say she is not feeling well, 
 she complained a few days ago of a cold." 
 
 '' I will go down with you, Laura, and see 
 her ; is she out of her room ? " 
 
 *' Not when I left, but I expect to find her 
 downstairs." 
 
 On reaching the Cottage Mrs. Tims told 
 them that Miss Godfrey felt so unwell, that 
 she had been obliged to go back to her bed 
 again. 
 
 '* Go up, Laura, and ask if your sister will 
 like to see me. How does Miss Godfrey seem 
 to you, Mrs. Tims?" 
 
 " Well, ma'am, she seems very poorly, her 
 throat is very sore, and I think she looks 
 flushed." 
 
 Here Laura came down, and asked Mrs. 
 Hartleigh to go upstairs. 
 
 '' Mrs. Tims," she said, on her coming 
 from the bedroom, " I think Miss Godfrey is 
 
EOTDENHURST. 255 
 
 very ill; I have just told Miss Laura that I 
 shall send immediately for Dr. Prior. "Will 
 you have the kindness to ask him to come up 
 to the Eectory after he has been here ? " 
 
 " I will, ma'am," replied Tims. 
 
 In the course of the afternoon the Doctor 
 arrived, and Laura took him up to her sister s 
 room. 
 
 When he came down, he said to her — 
 
 " I think, young lady, you had better let 
 the old servant attend entirely upon Miss 
 Godfrey, and not go into the room yourself. 
 It may be a fever." 
 
 "0, Doctor Prior!" she exclaimed. ''I 
 could not stay away from my sister." 
 
 '' Well," he said, " we shall see by to- 
 morrow," and then he went up to the 
 Rectory. 
 
 " Do you think, Dr. Prior," asked Mrs. 
 Hartleigh, "that there is any fear of infec- 
 tion?" 
 
 '' Well, there may be. I think it would be 
 
256 EOYDENHUEST. 
 
 much safer if Miss Laura Godfrey did not go- 
 into her sister's room for the present." 
 
 " That is exactly what I wanted to know/^ 
 said Mrs. Hartleigh. 
 
 *' I shall see by to-morrow, what the 
 present symptoms will turn out to be." 
 
 " May I ask you, Dr. Prior, to call here if 
 you do not find me at the Cottage ? " 
 
 " I will certainly," and no sooner had he 
 taken his departure, than Mrs. Hartleigh 
 went in search of the Rector, to tell him all 
 the Doctor had said. 
 
 *' Have Laura here, by all means ; you 
 better drive down for ber," he said, '' but 1 
 fear you will have no easy matter to persuade 
 Laura to leave her sister. I quite agree with 
 you, she ought not to remain the night at the 
 Cottage." 
 
 *' Yes, then I will drive down for her." 
 
 When Mrs. Hartleigh reached the Cottage,, 
 she only saw Mrs. Tims, who at once took 
 her into the little back dining-room, and 
 
ROYDENHURST. 257 
 
 quietly shutting the door, she said in a 
 whisper — 
 
 " Please, my dear lady, do talk to Miss 
 Laura, she ought to be out of that room," 
 pointing above, " but I can't get her away." 
 
 " That is just what I am come for, Mrs. 
 Tims, I hope to take her back with me. Will 
 you tell her I am here ? " 
 
 Presently Laura entered the room, ex- 
 claiming — 
 
 " Oh, Mrs. Hartleigh, I am so unhappy," 
 and she burst into tears. 
 
 For a few moments Mrs. Hartleigh did not 
 speak ; at last she said — 
 
 " Laura, my dear, you must come back 
 with me ; the Doctor thinks you ought not to 
 be in your sister's room." 
 
 "Oh, indeed, Mrs. Hartleigh, I cannot 
 leave ; it would be so dreadful to be away 
 from her when she is suffering." 
 
 '' But, my dear, you can do your sister no 
 good — " 
 
 VOL. I. s 
 
258 ROYDENHUEST. 
 
 She did not let Mrs. Hartleigh finish her 
 speech. 
 
 " Oh, yes, I can wait on her, nurse her, 
 soothe her in a hundred httle ways. Don't 
 say I must go away from Jane." 
 
 " You will only make your sister worse by 
 remaining; her anxiety for you, lest you 
 should take the infection, will often harass 
 her. Shall I go upstairs and see her?" 
 
 "Yes, do. I will not go with you. The 
 Doctor said only one person should be in the 
 room with her, it is so small." 
 
 Mrs. Hartleigh was shocked to see how 
 rapidly worse Jane had become. She could 
 scarcely speak, and it was evidently an effort 
 to her to try. She attempted to say some- 
 thing which was on her mind. Mrs. Hart- 
 leigh heard, " Laura away." It was enough, 
 and she bowed her head in acquiescence ; then 
 in a low whisper, said — 
 
 " Trust her to me, I am come for her." 
 
 '' How do you think her now, Mrs. 
 
HOYDENHUEST. 259 
 
 Hartleigh ? " said Lanra, when she entered the 
 httle room where she had been anxiously 
 waiting for her. 
 
 " My dear, it is quite clear to me that she 
 is fretting about you ; she knows the danger 
 of infection to young people, and it is her 
 wish that you should go away." 
 
 Laura gave a deep sigh, and, with tears 
 rolling down her cheeks, gently put her hand 
 into Mrs. Hartleigh's and said— 
 
 '' I will do anything that Jane and you 
 wish, but it is dreadful to leave dear Jane." 
 
 " Thank you, my dear," Mrs. Hartleigh 
 said, kissing her. 
 
 All this time Tims had been packing up 
 Miss Laura's things, and coming into the 
 room, she took her hand, rubbed away a tear 
 with the corner of her apron, and said — 
 
 '' Dear Miss Laura, if it was my own flesh 
 and blood I could not do more, you may be 
 sure, than I will do for my dear lady up- 
 stairs; I will not leave her night nor day; 
 
260 ROYDENHURST. 
 
 please, Miss Laura, to trust your dear old 
 Tims." 
 
 '' Yes, indeed, 1 do. It was not from tlie 
 least mistrust of you, dear Tims, that I wished 
 to stay ; but you don't know how dreadful it 
 is to have to leave her," and she sobbed as 
 if her heart would break. 
 
 " Indeed, indeed I do, miss, but ifc will ease 
 her mind to know that you are away from 
 the fever." 
 
 For several days, Jane Godfrey continued 
 in a very critical state. There was no doubt 
 now that her illness was an infectious fever. 
 One day in her delirium, she talked of Roy- 
 denhurst, then repeated her father's dying 
 words — 
 
 " * Bad father, bad husband ! ' Oh, no, no ! 
 don't say that," she kept on exclaiming. 
 Poor Tims, how could she prevent Mrs. 
 Hartleigh hearing all this. It was the greatest 
 relief to the faithful woman, when Mrs. Hart- 
 leigh whispered — 
 
EOYDENHURST. 261 
 
 " Never mind my hearing anything, Mrs. 
 Tims ; I know it already. Strange to say, a 
 few days before Miss Godfrey's illness, she 
 told her sad story to my husband. I saw," 
 she added, " that you were distressed just now 
 at my presence." 
 
 " How glad I am, dear lady, that you 
 knows it all, 'case anything should happen.'* 
 
 Before Mrs. Hartleigh saw Laura, she 
 always made a point of changing her dress ; 
 she had also told Laura never to come and 
 meet her, and although delay and suspense 
 in knowing every particular about her sister 
 was agony to the poor girl, yet she felt too 
 grateful to Mrs. Hartleigh not to comply 
 strictly with p11 her wishes. 
 
 The good Rector would talk to her kindly, 
 trying to prepare her mind for resignation. 
 
 " It is," he would say, '' in our prosperity 
 and happiness, that we ought to pray for 
 resignation to bear adversity ; too often, my 
 dear, this is thought of only when sorrow 
 
262 EOYDENHURST. 
 
 comes ; but to accustom ourselves to the 
 thought that trouble may come, and some- 
 time or other surely will, is the best, the 
 safest way to learn how to bear all things 
 with a tranquil spirit." 
 
 Laura did pray, earnestly for herself and 
 for her sister, and rose each day more and 
 more composed and almost happy ; a sense 
 of resignation had come over her, and she 
 felt that happen what might, she would know 
 it was God's will, and be ready not to think 
 of herself and her loss, but only of Jane's 
 gain ! 
 
 One evening, when Mrs. Hartleigh was 
 down at the Cottage, and the Rector and 
 Laura were alone, the servant brought in a 
 note which he gave to his master. It was 
 from his wife, to say that as Miss Godfrey 
 appeared much worse, she should remain that 
 night with her. 
 
 Laura watched him, she felt sure that the 
 note was from the Cottage, and she became 
 
ROTDENHURST. 263 
 
 deadly pale with, apprehension. Mr. Hart- 
 leigli left the room — poor Laura clasped her 
 hands together and breathed a fervent prayer. 
 
 When the Rector returned, he found her 
 crying bitterly ; he comforted her in every 
 possible v^ay, and at last entreated her to go 
 to bed. She went to her room, but not to 
 sleep. 
 
 " "Would daylight ever come ?" she thought, 
 as she tossed restlessly upon her bed. 
 
 Mrs. Hartleigh passed a painful night, the 
 ravings and meanings of the poor invalid were 
 most distressing, and the look of despair on 
 Tims' face quite heartrending ; at last a sort 
 of torpor seemed to creep over the sufferer. 
 Dr. Prior thought it was the turning point 
 of the complaint, and if she continued to 
 sleep, there would be hope ; nothing could 
 be quieter than the little cottage, still he 
 thought it right to order perfect stillness, 
 and he told Mrs. Hartleigh the best thing 
 she could do, was to leave the old servant 
 
264 ROTDENHDRST. 
 
 watching bj Miss Godfrey's side, and to go 
 home and take some rest. 
 
 Mrs. Hartleigh went to Laura's room, she 
 found her very wretched and unhappy ; she 
 kissed her affectionately and said — 
 
 " Hope my dear child, your sister is in a 
 quiet sleep." 
 
 END OF VOL. T. 
 
 Printed by REMi.VtiiOiV & Co., 5, Arundel Street, Strand, AV.C. 
 

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