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 UUN OVLU.
 
 LORDS AND LADIES, 
 
 VOL. I.
 
 LORDS AND LADIES. 
 
 BY 
 
 THE AUTHOE OP 
 
 MARGARET AND HER BRIDESMAIDS, 
 
 "THE VALLEY OF A HUNDRED FIRES," 
 
 ''THE QUEEN OF THE COUNTY," 
 
 &c., &c. 
 
 lilusing on the little lives of men— 
 And how they mar this little by their feuds." 
 Tenntsox. 
 
 IN THREE VOLUMES. 
 VOL. I. 
 
 LONDON: 
 
 HURST AND BLACKETT, PUBLISHERS, 
 
 SUCCESSORS TO HENRY COLBURN, 
 
 13, GREAT IMAllLBOROUGH STREET. 
 
 1866. 
 
 Tlte ri(/ht of Translation is resei-ved
 
 LONDON : 
 
 PRINTED BY RLVCDONALD AND TUGWELL, BLENHETiVI HOUSE, 
 
 BLENHEIM STREET, OXFORD STREET.
 
 V, / 
 
 LORDS AND LADIES, 
 
 'fl CHAPTER I. 
 
 T HOW THE CAUSE FOR A CHALLENGE AROSE 
 
 BETWEEN 
 
 a 
 
 , AS A CLOUD OF SMOKE. 
 
 ^. 
 
 y^ " Depend upon it. Squire, there is neither peace 
 (P. nor comfort to be had in a house overrun by petti- 
 A> coats !" 
 
 p Four pair of ears heard this sweeping censure 
 ^ on the female sex — made by the mouth belonging 
 J* to a fifth pair — which pair ought to have blushed 
 ^ for that mouth. 
 ^ Did any reply % Not one. 
 
 VOL. I. B
 
 2 LORDS AND LADIES. 
 
 There must have been a solid — a convincing — 
 an incontestable reason for this lack of gallantry ; 
 which is putting in the mildest light this melan- 
 choly statement regarding the chivalry of the 
 present race of the magnanimous Britons ; as (I 
 hope) both sexes will allow. The more so when 
 they hear the reason. 
 
 The speaker, and the four hearers, had been 
 politely requested by their hostess, as she left the 
 dinner-room followed by her troop of ladies, to re- 
 frain from smoking. It is true she was a very 
 pretty woman ; it is true she made the request in 
 her sw^eetest voice and most engaging manner. It 
 is also true, and not to be denied by one of the Lords 
 of the Creation present, that she (one of the ^T^adies," 
 who are allowed to " will " and to '^ won't, " merely 
 because they will "will and won't, " without giving 
 any reason for so doing) absolutely did point out 
 her new summer curtains (just put up) as an apology 
 for the request ; very fresh and spotless tliey looked 
 too, as none could deny.
 
 LORDS AND LADIES. 6 
 
 As all tidy, liome-loving, home-glorifying queens 
 of households are allowed to feel at one of those 
 advents of domestic bliss — a thorough house-clean- 
 ing — so did she revel and rejoice in the dainty 
 spruceness of her kingdom. They had seen her 
 (and applauded her) only that day, as she chal- 
 lenged the world to find spot or blemish, an atom 
 of dust or the minutest spider, in the domestic 
 palace to which she welcomed them so warmly. 
 They had watched her, had admired her, glowing 
 with gratified pride, as she walked through her 
 beautiful and fragrant house. 
 
 She may (we will not deny it), she certainly 
 may, under the influence of this most pardonable 
 of all vanities, have demanded their forbearance 
 rather than beseeched it. 
 
 The human heart, under the best control (as we 
 all know by experience), has its unguarded moments. 
 No doubt we have each of us felt what it is to be 
 moved from our pedestal of moral altitude by the 
 complacent whisperings of a duty well done. 
 
 b2
 
 4 LORDS AND LADIES. 
 
 Vanity assails us at such moments from a quarter 
 so unexpected, that we are knocked down without 
 a warning. Thus it may be that, glorying in her 
 garnished and elegant house, Mrs. Joscelyn forgot 
 that she owed allegiance to the king of it. But he 
 did not. Was he not a Lord of the Creation ? 
 
 He is the Squire apostrophized in the first sen- 
 tence of this veracious tale, and usually a human 
 creature of much urbanity, cheerfulness, and con- 
 tentment. That is when the nerve Opiniatum had 
 not been touched. Very few anatomists have 
 noticed, or rather honoured, this nerve by mention- 
 ing it. Yet it runs in distinguishable lines from the 
 brain to the feet — ramifyingthroughthewhole frame. 
 In some subjects it overpowers and wholly sub- 
 jugates every other nerve in the body. Again, in 
 others, it is barely perceptible. In the female 
 organization it is less developed than in the male ; 
 which may be one reason why anatomists care so 
 little to mention it. For it is not a good nerve, or 
 of any manner of use. On the contrar}^, it is
 
 LORDS AND LADIES. 5 
 
 often a source of much discomfort to its owner, 
 and frequently places him, or her, in positions 
 neither comfortable nor creditable. Thus in the 
 female, if it remains only in the brain, and does not 
 spread towards the heart, the quirks, vagaries, and 
 inconsistencies of its unfortunate owner wear and 
 tear her other nerves all to pieces, as well as the 
 nerves of those with whom she lives. She is like 
 a balloon without ballast ; a ship without a crew ; a 
 windmill shorn of its grapnel. 
 
 In the male species, this nerve seldom approaches 
 the region of the heart, but is so intricately mixed 
 up with every other part of the body, that the 
 slightest touch starts it into instant life; and, 
 during the time it quivers and lives, the reasoning 
 faculties, the moral powers, the higher virtues, 
 succumb before it. 
 
 The Squire was born with this nerve strongly 
 devoloped ; it had been fostered and encouraged by 
 education and position. He was one of those rare 
 individuals born in this Vale of Tears, who had
 
 6 LORDS AND LADIES. 
 
 never had any occasion to lament it. He was rich, 
 having enough to enjoy every reasonable pleasure 
 in life, in a reasonable manner. He was jovial in 
 temperament, which enabled him to enjoy his 
 riches ; he was also fine-hearted, which gave him 
 the chiefest happiness of all, namely, the desire to 
 make others assist him to spend them. He was a 
 happy husband, a fond father, a staunch friend. 
 He lived without care, he had never experienced 
 sorrow, but — he had the nerve Opiniatum. 
 
 His personal appearance deserves description. 
 Pie was a well-made, handsome man, and, without 
 being the least vain, he walked about and through 
 the world with that air which says, " You may 
 look at me, from head to foot, within and without, 
 and you will discover a man who is not ashamed 
 of himself, either personally, mentally, or morally." 
 
 And nobody saw him w^ithout agreeing to this 
 opinion; he was in all respects "a proper man." 
 His bright florid complexion bore the marks of 
 having been kissed by the summers of forty year?.
 
 LORDS AND LADIES. 7 
 
 His merry blue eyes twinkled and danced as if a 
 jovial spirit lurked within their clear azure. His 
 handsome nose rose straight between them in 
 a certain majesty of form, as if, by conscious 
 dignity, to curb the " laughing devil" peeping out 
 in the eyes. A short upper-hp began a well-formed 
 mouth and chin. Perhaps the upper lip was a 
 little deficient in fulness — a sign that proves the 
 indisputable possession of the nerve Opiniatum. 
 
 His well-shaped head was furnished with clusters 
 of rebellious rings of fair hair, short and crisp. 
 His chest, magnificently developed, expanding in 
 kindliness to all the world, was supported on firm, 
 well-shaped legs, whose shapely feet had that elastic 
 tread which belongs to the healthy, wealthy, and 
 contented among mankind. 
 
 Such was the Squire — to which must be added 
 that he was faultlessly dressed in the evening 
 costume of an English gentleman of the present 
 day. 
 
 But at this present moment he is not looking his
 
 8 LORDS AND LADIES. 
 
 best. A frown sits upon his brow, an unusual 
 visitant ; so unusual, indeed, that one can hardly 
 think it is the Squire sitting before us. He is 
 biting the nail of the thumb of his right hand, an 
 act of which he has the greatest abhorrence (in 
 another), and which he would be prepared, con- 
 scientiously and vehemently, to deny doing himself, 
 from his own often-expressed conviction that it is 
 an " ungentlemanly trick." 
 
 But the fact is, he does not in the least know 
 ■what he is about ; a sudden pressure of the nerve 
 Opiniatum has, for the nonce, got possession of 
 him, physically and mentally. Will it conquer 
 him? If it does, my story is at an end. Fortunately 
 (I hope) for my readers, his companions are in 
 league with the nerve Opiniatum. 
 
 They must be described. 
 
 Let us begin with the only one who has yet 
 spoken — he who uttered that unjust, base, never- 
 to-bc-forgiven calumny upon petticoats. 
 
 He is tall, spare, not ill-made ; in fact, he has a
 
 LORDS AND LADIES. 9 
 
 good figure, well-knitted together, which is a 
 virtue in him that must be accorded, as it is 
 about the only thing there was to praise in him ! 
 
 As regards age, he was quite as old as the Squire, 
 though no petticoat was ever more weak in allow- 
 ing the fact. In short, he did not allow it. If 
 all his subterfuges, all his evasions, all his bare-, 
 faced — let us say "fibs," as the mildest mode 
 of recording his utter disregard of truth on 
 the subject — his tremendous "fibs" were collected 
 together, and placed before a dispassionate jury, 
 composed of equal parts of both sexes, I feel 
 sure he would gain the day over the weakest 
 woman that ever lived. 
 
 But I don't wish to be hard upon him ; in- 
 asmuch as nature herself has not been too kind, 
 as must be acknowledged by unprejudiced 
 parties when they read the description of 
 him. 
 
 Thin wiry hair, with no colour at all, was 
 plastered over that part of his cranium which time
 
 10 LORDS AND LADIES. 
 
 had cruelly, inexplicably made bare, giving a 
 very meagre appearance to a skull that was 
 already remarkable for an oddity of shape and 
 a strange deficiency in intellectual bumps. 
 
 Little reddish greenish eyes blazed out from 
 beneath such bushy brows, it was inevitable 
 the thought, that some of their luxuriance 
 would be well bestowed a little higher up. 
 
 His face was wholly made up of puckers, 
 which concentrated themselves into a focus — 
 his nose. And as if contented to form the 
 base of that wonderful feature, the rest of it 
 was a round shining knob, on which bloomed, 
 with ever-varying tints, according to heat 
 and frost, port wine or none, all the bright 
 shades of the rose. 
 
 His mouth resembled the withered puncture 
 of an old apple, and his chin was never free 
 from the marks of the rou^h usai^e of an 
 unkind razor. 
 
 His dress was not too costly, and utterly without
 
 LORDS AND LADIES. 11 
 
 taste, both of wliicli might have been forgiven, 
 had he attended to those Httle niceties of 
 toilette which mark the true gentleman. 
 
 For, to say nothing of a little eccentricity as 
 to the needlessness of absolute snowy linen, 
 or the necessity of washing his hands too often 
 (at times one might suppose once a week was con- 
 sidered by him enough), his general appearance 
 was always more or less of a sporting character. 
 Even in a ball-room (where, strange to say, 
 he always appeared, and always in a chronic 
 state of grumbling and growling), his general 
 aspect was such that strangers have often taken 
 him for some respectable game-keeper who had 
 wandered into the ball-room by mistake in his 
 Sunday suit. 
 
 This passion for balls always excited in those 
 friends who were honoured with his confidence 
 the greatest surprise. He began to grumble the 
 moment one was mooted ; he grumbled through 
 the different phases of the first f^uestion of how,
 
 12 LORDS AND LADIES. 
 
 when, and where, to the moment when the fly 
 arrived to take him to it. He grumbled all the 
 tioie he was at it, though he generally came with 
 the fiddlers and went out with the candles. 
 
 " Why did he go f argued his friends and ad- 
 mirers, if he had any. 
 
 Nobody knows, unless it was the pressure of the 
 nerve Opiniatum. 
 
 This nerve had the individual and entire 
 possession of the body and soul of Captain 
 Crabshawe. 
 
 It is needless to say he was a bachelor. Unlike 
 Squire Joscelyn, who lost his temper and bit his 
 right thumb nail when his nerve Opiniatum was 
 touched. Captain Crabshawe only feh happiness 
 when his whole frame was quivering. Conse- 
 quently, upon this evening the bloom upon the 
 round knob that did duty for his nose was spread- 
 ing with becoming radiance over his whole face, 
 suffusing into one the various little efflorescences 
 that adorned his countenance.
 
 LOKDS AND LADIES. 13 
 
 On his right hand, sat a pleasant unremarkable- 
 looking man, who, apparently aware that fate had 
 accorded him no striking physiognomy, had en- 
 deavoured to repair the mistake by art. His collar 
 was turned down, which, so far from giving him a 
 poetic or Byronic look, merely enabled his friends 
 to see that he was rather fat about the throat. 
 His hair, oily and smooth, was parted down the 
 middle, and, turning abruptly round, sent tlie 
 ends into the corners of his eyes, making them 
 wink and appear tender. This mode of dressing 
 the hair, styled the "Intellectual," had not the 
 effect of imparting much' wisdom to the counte- 
 nance of ^ir. Spooner. On the contrary, he re- 
 sembled one of those comfortably-clad, turnip-fed, 
 and turnip-loving sheep, whose equable minds are 
 disturbed neither by the dog of yesterday, nor by 
 the prospect of becoming mutton to-morrow. 
 
 He had a splendid pair of whiskers — that his 
 bitterest enemy allowed — which, besides being so 
 bushy and excellent of their kind, afforded him a
 
 14 LORDS AND LADIES. 
 
 great deal of amusement, not to say help. For no 
 matter what he was doinf^, in his office at the bank, 
 where he, a junior partner, was signing away 
 thousands perhaps, receiving in millions proba- 
 bly — at home, in dressing-gown and slippers, 
 reading a novel — in the park — sprucely dressed at 
 dinner, imbibing soup — after dinner smoking a 
 cigar — in all and each of these duties, each im- 
 portant in its way, his whiskers were taken hold 
 of, drawn out, minutely scanned sideways, and 
 consulted on every occasion. In short (let us 
 make the remark without ill-nature), generally 
 a man is spoken of as a "man with whiskers." 
 In Mr. Spooner's case, it would only be doing 
 justice to his if we said, "whiskers with a 
 man," or a " Lord of the Creation." 
 
 He was not very tall, not very clever, not 
 very anything, yet he had the natural and 
 much-to-be-commended desire to be everything. 
 So he had a smattering of this tiling, a slight 
 knowledge of that, a sort of inkling of a meta-
 
 LORDS AND LADIES. 15 
 
 physical kindj which puzzled him more than 
 any one else. He dabbled in politics, flirted 
 with scandal, and trifled mth characters. In a 
 word, he had a most ardent desire to be thought 
 clever and intellectual, and, in strict truth, he 
 was an amiable, simple noodle of a man, without 
 any character at all. 
 
 He was unexceptionable in dress and manner 
 generally, but sometimes, when straining after 
 inspiration, he was apt to forget the latter. He 
 could very well have borne to be handsomer, 
 more manly, more dignified, but then, like the 
 Dodo, he would have had less excuse to look 
 as if he was mourning over his deficiencies. 
 His soul aspired to be great, but his body was 
 only fitted for great things moderately developed. 
 The nerve Opiniatum was so slightly demon- 
 strated in liim, it may be questioned if it 
 could be perceived further than in the female 
 subject. 
 
 Mr. Spooner was a married man. He had
 
 16 LORDS AND LADIES. 
 
 experienced that bappy state exactly six months. 
 He was just entering that dangerous flux of 
 the tide matrimonial, wherein a sort of mael- 
 strom ensues, from the vortex of which is thrown 
 up all the bits of the barque of happiness — 
 the vessel in which he had set sail on the voy- 
 age of matrimony. How many of these bits he 
 and his wife could save from the wreck, it is not 
 our business to inquire. We only know, 
 the more they could collect the safer and more 
 pleasant would be their voyage together here- 
 after. 
 
 From the circumstances under which he and 
 his wife had begun that interest in each other 
 which ended in matrimony, it was not unreason- 
 able to fear that some few storms would assail 
 their first start in life's voyage, ere they sailed 
 amicably together for the rest of it. The germ 
 of their first interest in each other arose out of the 
 discovery that their initials were the same — A. S. 
 — Augustus Spooner, Arabella Strutt.
 
 LORDS AND LADIES. 17 
 
 This led to remarks — remarks brought on con- 
 sequences — consequences ended in matrimony, and 
 Mr. and Mrs. Spooner were now undergoing the 
 ordeal of testing their love for each other by some- 
 thing more tangible than the fond fantasy of jointly 
 owning two letters in the alphabet. At the first 
 onset of their matrimonial career, they laid them- 
 selves open, be it whispered, to the privilege of 
 having another S added to the first. This phase 
 over, the reaction was great the other way. 
 Dropping the character of an adoring lover, and 
 taking up that of a comfortable lazy husband, the 
 male A. S. lacerated the heart of his doting wife. 
 
 In foregoing the angelic graciousness of the 
 bride, and adopting the fidgets and fancies of the 
 wife, the female A. S. was calling forth into life 
 and vigour the nerve Opiniatum of her devoted 
 spouse. Thus is explained (or excused) wherefore 
 two married men had neither of them the grace, 
 much less the inclination, to snub Captain Crab- 
 shawe for his libel upon petticoats. 
 
 VOL. I. C
 
 18 LORDS AND LADIES. 
 
 It was, therefore, not to be expected that young 
 bachelors should dash to the rescue, and transfix 
 the libeller with the sharp lance of indignation, 
 when the older, married, experienced, not only 
 declined the pleasing task, but seemed to agree in 
 the base calumny. No ; they sat silent and 
 thoughtful. 
 
 As the utmost confidence ought to subsist between 
 the writer and the reader, the former informs the 
 latter that one of them, Sir George Follett, Bart., 
 really did think, and this was his thought ; 
 
 " 'Twas dooced hard they couldn't smoke !" 
 
 Sir George was a young gentleman of whom it 
 may be said the species is very common. Early 
 spoilt by an adoring mother, and a still more 
 adoring world, he was unable to look at a single 
 thing in it according to a plain matter-of-fact 
 view. Naturally he was born with a good heart. 
 His propensities were most of them amiable, but 
 such were the trammels that surrounded him, he 
 hardly knew he had a heart at all — in fact, he had
 
 LOKDS AND LADIES. 19 
 
 never had any occasion to require one. Everybody 
 loved him, admired him, and praised him without. 
 Consequently he was rather vain, a little selfish, 
 and irrevocably impressed with the idea that every 
 unmarried woman that came into juxtaposition 
 with him was possessed with the fatal and deter- 
 mined idea of becoming Lady Follett. " It was 
 dooced hard to deny them, but positively a choice 
 in the matter he must have — really he could not 
 consent to be married by force !" 
 
 He was well-looking — something of a fop, and 
 secretly very anxious to marry. He was not 
 strong enough to be possessed of many nerves, so 
 the nerve Opiniatum was wholly un discoverable in 
 his organization. 
 
 Having confided so much to the reader about 
 Sir George, it now becomes the writer's duty to be 
 equally confidential regarding Mr. Summers. 
 Why do I say Mr. ? No one after the second in- 
 terview ever called him anything but Summers ; 
 and after the third, Frank; after the fourth, Summ, 
 
 c2
 
 20 LORDS AND LADIES. 
 
 and so on. Shortening, len^hening, mimicking, 
 apostrophising, and altering after every conceivable 
 fashion his two names — Francis Summers. For 
 he was beloved. He, too, was thinking — so deeply, 
 indeed, that I quite credit, and beg the reader 
 will do so also, his solemn assertion that he did 
 not hear Captain Crabshawe's disgraceful libel, 
 or he would instantly have challenged him there 
 and then. But he was thinking — it was a strange, 
 a bewildering thought, and concerned a brown 
 hat. In the circumference of that brown straw 
 hat, further bounded by the folds of a blue veil, 
 was a sight, a view, a vision, that contained for 
 him everything most fair on earth — nothing that 
 out of ocean's treasures she could match, and 
 containing to him almost as much of heaven as the 
 blue sky itself. 
 
 Francis Summers was a fair, slight, handsome 
 young fellow of eight-and -twenty years of age. 
 Like Sir George, he was an only son, and had a 
 doting mother ; but unlike Sir George, these two
 
 LORDS AND LADIES. 21 
 
 circumstances rather developed the best feelings of 
 his nature than deteriorated them. So far from 
 becoming selfish and vain, he was amiable and 
 modest, to a degree that rather interfered with 
 a true judgment of his character. Mr. Spooner's 
 ambition was to be thought better of than he 
 deserved. Frank Summers was satisfied with 
 only half the praise that was his due. Thus 
 the one generally disappointed his friends, while 
 the latter always surprised them. He had an 
 independent fortune, and was known to be in 
 search of a wife. This caused a commotion 
 amongst his friends. Either Frank's bachelor 
 establishment was too pleasant to be done away 
 with, or they were so fond of him personally, 
 they could not suffer him and all his amiabili- 
 ties to be absorbed by a wife. 
 
 The Squire alone stood his friend in the matter. 
 Captain Crabshawe was vehemently opposed to 
 the very idea. 
 
 Mr. Spooner warned him, with deep sighs.
 
 22 LOKDS AND LADIES. 
 
 to be guarded, very guarded, in his choice ; 
 while Sir George openly demonstrated that, if 
 he did marry, he would only be married for 
 his money. 
 
 '^I think I have a better opinion of myself 
 than that," replied Summers, confidently. 
 
 "Hear! — hear!" had the Squire rephed. 
 
 "The vanity of the fellow!" said Sir George. 
 
 "No, I am not vain, I hope. When I do 
 see a lady I could love, she shall be satisfied 
 that I think more of her happiness than my 
 own." 
 
 " And so add one more to the already over- 
 whelming multitude of foolish and spoilt wives." 
 
 Captain Crabshawe was often permitted by 
 his friends to make these sorts of little remarks, 
 as it was charitably concluded that he had once 
 had a disappointment, and that, in consequence, 
 now "the grapes were sour." 
 
 But we must return to the dinner-room, 
 where, long as we have been in describing the
 
 LORDS AND LADIES. 23 
 
 five friends, still the Squire is frowning, still 
 biting unconsciously the nail of his right hand 
 thumb. 
 
 It is a most lovely evening. The windows 
 are as wdde open as windows can be. The 
 soft evening air, so charming in the early daj's 
 of June, inflates those summer curtains with 
 gentle zephyrs who seem to say, "Though you 
 may not taint Mrs. Joscelyn's chintz with the 
 fumes of tobacco, come out into the garden 
 with us ; come to the harbour washed by the 
 waves of the sea. We will play around you, 
 and waft the little puffles of smoke emanating 
 from your cigars, into little grotesque shapes. 
 Or they shall assume an appearance suited to 
 your thoughts, filling your minds with charm- 
 ing reflections on the past, the present, and 
 the future. The sea shall sing her everlasting 
 love-lay, murmuring it close in your ears — that 
 love-song that the fair earth expands her bosom 
 to receive. Close by is the hedge of sweet-
 
 24 LORDS AND LADIES. 
 
 brier ; we will hustle through the thorny 
 branches, and waft about the fragrant per- 
 fume of its leaves, while tlie roses of June 
 shall shed their sweet petals down to your 
 feet." 
 
 In vain did the zephyrs sing thus. And 
 why ? Mrs. Joscelyn had said almost the same 
 thing, though of course in the matter-of-fact 
 language of the day: "It will be just the 
 evening," said she, " to enjoy smoking in the 
 arbour." 
 
 All very fine, Mrs. Joscelyn, but the nerve 
 Opiniatum does not think it just the evening 
 to do anything of the sort. The nerve Opinia- 
 tum has a dining-room, and the nerve Opinia- 
 tum does not see, when it has a dining-room, 
 why it need smoke in an arbour, be that 
 arbour ever so desirable. 
 
 So once more rose that harsh sound, half 
 fretful, wholly tuneless — the voice of Captain 
 Crabshawe.
 
 LORDS AND LADIES. 25 
 
 "Ah, friends, let me tell you, where a man's 
 comforts are really concerned, women are the 
 very devil " 
 
 "Hold! hold! Captain Crabshawe!" exclaimed 
 Summers, startled out of his pleasing thoughts 
 regarding the brown hat and blue veil by such 
 a word applied to such beings. 
 
 *' Come, Crabshawe, you are rather too 
 strong ; Eliza — I mean Mrs. Joscelyn — is about 
 as good a woman as ever lived." 
 
 " Granted, Squire, granted ; of course I don't 
 expect to hear a man abuse his own property, 
 of course not ; think what you like of her. 
 Squire. I am not the man to cantradict you, 
 but at the same time, I know Mrs. Joscelyn, 
 I know her little arts, her wheedlings " 
 
 " Pooh — pooh !" interrupted the Squire, who 
 was a little touchy on the point of supremacy 
 in his household, as was natural in a man 
 with the nerve Opiniatum in active use. "Pooh 
 — pooh ! a man is not a man or a gentleman,
 
 26 LORDS AND LADIES. 
 
 if he cannot give way to a woman's fid-fads 
 when she desires it." 
 
 " Quite true, Squire !" exclaimed Mr. Frank, 
 all in a glow, "what would life be worth, 
 had we no opportunity to show our respect, 
 our admiration, our devotion, to the other 
 sex." 
 
 " Kespect ! admiration ! devotion ! Ha ! — ha ! 
 Summers, you are in love, my boy ! Yes, 
 Frank, I know it; don't deny it — you are a 
 lost creature !" 
 
 " Poor Summers !" murmured Mr. Spooner, 
 while Sir Georo-e laughed like a mockincj-bird. 
 
 Mr. Summers sat down and blushed, as all 
 four pair of eyes were turned full upon him. 
 The Squire good-naturedly reheved him from 
 this embarrassing position by saying, 
 
 "I allow women sometimes take too much 
 upon themselves " 
 
 *' Too much ! Squire, by Heavens ! they take 
 all. Everything must give way to their fancies.
 
 LORDS AND LADIES. 27 
 
 Doors must be opened for them, as if they 
 were born without hands ; chairs must be set 
 for them, as if they had not the sense to sit 
 down of their own accord ; errands must be 
 run for them, invented on purpose to suit the 
 backs of those poor beasts of burden, those 
 asses of men. Money must be found for them, 
 let the husband and household starve, provided 
 they are flounced up to the eyes, and smothered 
 in gauze bonnets. Room must be made for 
 them and their crinolines, until, by George ! 
 there is scarcely a corner left in the world 
 for our poor spindleshanks to bestow them- 
 selves." 
 
 And Captain Crabshawe thrust his out, which 
 were that part of his person the least worth 
 looking at. No one replied to this burst of 
 eloquence; so, taking breath and courage, he 
 dashed on a£!;ain : 
 
 "Think what a world it would be without 
 women ! We should then have room to turn
 
 28 LORDS AND LADIES. 
 
 round. How we could go anywhere, and every- 
 where, without being smothered and upset by 
 steel traps attached to inflated balloons ; how 
 much money we might save, which we could 
 spend on sensible things — dogs, guns, horses, 
 shooting moors, and a nice yacht. Squire — eh?" 
 (The Squire's ambition was a yacht). ^' I con- 
 tend that nothing binds us to women but 
 motives of humanity; they are so weak, so 
 frivolous, so generally incapable ! that in sheer 
 pity we live with them. But why need they 
 make themselves obnoxious as well as trouble- 
 some? why interfere with our most trifling 
 pleasures? w^hy prevent us the most simple, 
 harmless recreation of smoking?" 
 
 (Groans.) 
 
 "Upon my word," continued the captain, 
 roused by these groans of approbation into 
 a lively flow of eloquence and grand ideas, 
 " what a thing it would be if we could give 
 them a lesson, Squire. Let us go off for a
 
 LOKDS AND LADIES. 29 
 
 while — let us leave them to themselves for a 
 bit ! Yes, Squire, let us show ourselves proof 
 against their cajoleries — impervious to their at- 
 tractions, Spooiier — blind to their arts, Frank, 
 my boy — wide-awake to their intentions, Follet 
 — and more than all. Squire, independent of their 
 presumed household virtues ! " 
 
 "They are not presumed — Elizabeth is the 
 best " 
 
 " We know it ! — we know it ! Pardon the in- 
 terruption. Squire; but you see a man before 
 you who is ready to do all that Mrs. Joscelyn 
 ever did, and much more." 
 
 " Knit my socks, for instance !" 
 
 " Knit ! — of course, I can knit — any fool can 
 knit ; but who wants their socks knitted when 
 you can buy them made by a loom that can 
 neither drop stitches nor make mistakes, and 
 for half the money too !" 
 
 " That is true," remarked Mr. Spooner. 
 
 Gratified by this show in his favour, the
 
 30 LORDS AND LADIES. 
 
 captain proceeded with increased vigour : — 
 
 "I will darn, mend, and sew on buttons, 
 against any woman living. I say now. Squire, 
 suppose, just to bring Mrs. Joscel3ni to her 
 bearings, to give her a lesson, we all took 
 ourselves off for a time ! I'll be bound you 
 may smoke in the drawing-room, in her bou- 
 doir, in your very bed, when you return !" 
 
 " She wants a lesson of some sort," mur- 
 mured the Squire, as if to himself. 
 
 "I am not sure if a short absence, a want 
 of my manly attentions," here Mr. Spooner 
 drew out his left whisker, as a proof of his 
 possessing one attribute of man, "would not 
 be beneficial to !Mrs. Spooner." 
 
 " I am positive I must be off somewhere," 
 said Sir George ; " for if I stay much longer 
 that little Kate Daintree will wheedle me into 
 so serious a flirtation, I shall find myself 
 noosed before I am aware. I don't see how 
 I shaU like that!"
 
 LORDS AND LADIES. 31 
 
 "Then we can rescue Summers," exclaimed 
 the captain, with a frosty attempt at being 
 jovial. 
 
 " So we can," they all exclaimed, fixing 
 once more their full gaze upon that modest, 
 unassuming young man. 
 
 Again he blushed to the very roots of his 
 hair, as they all again assured him separately 
 and together, with great heartiness and en- 
 thusiasm, that they would do anything for his 
 good. 
 
 He murmured a few words, they might be 
 thanks, but, to judge by his countenance, it 
 was much as if he was thanking some doctor 
 for skilfully taking off his leg. 
 
 He might be grateful, but it was a grati- 
 tude of a very dubious kind. 
 
 Nevertheless, they were pleased with it ; in 
 fact, it was more than they expected. 
 
 They had all made up their minds to fall 
 into Captain Crabshawe's scheme, but at the
 
 32 LORDS AND LADIES. 
 
 same time they were all more or less twit- 
 ted in their consciences that they should 
 adopt it merely because they had not been 
 allowed to smoke in Mrs. Joscelyn's dining- 
 room. There was something rather pettish, 
 not to say silly, in men of their brain and 
 capacity, "Lords of the Creation," being moved 
 to such an exhibition of temper, as all to leave 
 home because they were not allowed to smoke ! 
 
 The nerve Opiniatum in vain protested to 
 the Squire it was reason sufficient. It is a 
 well-known fact that this nerve can rarely be 
 roused by a man in a man. Touched by Mrs. 
 Joscelyn, it would have led the Squire by the 
 nose ; she being absent, it was again becoming 
 dormant. The Squire desired to give his wife 
 a lesson, yet he did not desire to be thought 
 a fool in doing so ! 
 
 So it is probable that Captain Crabshawe's elo- 
 quence would all have been wasted but for the 
 lucky thought of rescuing the amiable Frank.
 
 LORDS AND LADIES. 33 
 
 "I am afraid, mj dear boy," said the Squire, 
 "that if the object of your affections is the 
 young lady I suspect, you would do well to 
 avoid her ; she has a temper." 
 
 " Don't mince the matter. Squire. It is Clara 
 Severn — and hasn't she a temper !" 
 
 " Miss Severn !" exclaimed Mr. Summers in- 
 dignantly. 
 
 "Well, Miss Severn, since you are so parti- 
 cular," admitted Captain Crabshawe. " I saw you 
 only yesterday sitting at the Battery Rock with 
 her, and unable to see a single thing in the 
 world beyond the rim of her brown hat." 
 
 Too true ! Had he not been thinking of that 
 brown hat all the evening? As he remembered 
 the vision seen beneath the brown hat, he forgot 
 to answer, he forgot where he was, he was lost 
 in the remembrance of everything but that deli- 
 cious hour. 
 
 When he awoke again to what was going on 
 round him, he heard the Squire saying, 
 
 VOL. I. D
 
 34 LORDS AND LADIES. 
 
 " I don't wish to go far. There is my darling 
 little Bessie, and if Eliz — Mrs. Joscelyn, should 
 be ill " 
 
 '' I will do Mrs. Joscelyn the justice to say, I 
 never heard of her ailing, even a finger ache." 
 
 " True, Crab, she is without exception the 
 best — or rather, I mean — I think Spooner's idea 
 a very good one. Let us start to-morrow." 
 
 "I don't intend to go," said Frank, aghast at 
 finding matters so far settled. 
 
 " Summers ! Frank !" exclaimed one and all ; 
 '■' why, we are going solely for your good !" 
 
 " I don't care — I mean to stop at home. I 
 am not offended about the smoking — I am very 
 glad we were forbidden to smoke; I don't care 
 if I never smoke again." 
 
 The gentlemen looked at their beloved Frank, 
 and at each other, in dismay. They were 
 becoming fast smitten with the scheme, and 
 could not bear the thought of relinquishing 
 it.
 
 LOEDS AND LADIES. 35 
 
 "Come, Frankj don't be unkind, we merely 
 wish to give my wife a lesson." 
 
 " She does not require a lesson, she is the 
 best wife I ever saw, Squire. I wonder you 
 can bear to think of living a day without 
 her." 
 
 The Squire was evidently gratified, but he was 
 consequently the more determined to have his 
 own way. The nerve Opiniatum was rising 
 again. 
 
 " We propose," said Mr. Spooner, mellifluously, 
 " only to go to one of the islands, my dear Frank, 
 just for a short time. You see ladies will be- 
 come arbitrary, they must have a gentle lesson 
 now and then." 
 
 " I must go," interrupted Sir George ; " I wish 
 to be somewhere for a time, where I can breathe 
 and feel safe." 
 
 " Don't desert us. Summers ; you can surely 
 trust me to do nothing unkind. I merely wish to 
 go into the drawing-room and say, * Elizabeth, 
 
 d2
 
 36 LORDS AND LADIES. 
 
 here is a cheque for fifty pounds. I am ^oing 
 off for a month, I don't know where, and I don't 
 care.'" 
 
 " Squire, dear Mr. Joscelyn, you are hurt, 
 vexed. Wait until to-morrow. Sleep over the 
 thought." 
 
 "No, Frank, I won't. I am a man of de- 
 cision. I have passed my word to Crabshawe, 
 and I am going to keep it." 
 
 "So have I." 
 
 "And I." 
 
 As Mr. Spooner and Sir George endorsed the 
 Squire's promise. Captain Crabshawe blew his nose 
 sonorously. It was the trumpet of victory. 
 
 " You will be so miserable, Mr. Joscelyn." 
 
 " How do you make that out ? Crabshawe, 
 which island shall we choose f 
 
 " We can hire any one of the three, and there 
 are houses on each," he answered. 
 
 "I vote for the one furthest off," said Sir 
 George.
 
 LOEDS AND LADIES. 37 
 
 "That is Kibble, and has the lighthouse on 
 it." 
 
 "You will all be miserable," again said 
 Summers. 
 
 "No, no, come with us, or you will be the 
 one to be pitied. Taken possession of by Clara 
 Severn." 
 
 " Captain Crabshawe !" 
 
 "I beg your pardon — Miss Severn. Fifteen 
 miles of water between you and Miss Severn 
 will be the saving of you. Don't be angry 
 now. I am a man who must have his joke." 
 
 (Very dull, lugubrious jokes were those of 
 Captain Crabshawe.) 
 
 "Come with us. Summers, we only wish to 
 show the ladies we can live without them." 
 
 "I don't think 1 can live without them." 
 
 " He is lost !" exclaimed Sir George. 
 
 "Undone!" sighed Mr. Spooner. 
 
 " I give him up !" said the captain. 
 
 "I will agree to accomj^any you on one con-
 
 38 LORDS AND LADIES. 
 
 dition," said Frank, moved by their various 
 plaints. 
 
 " Name it — name it — anything to secure you." 
 
 " Give me leave to think over it until to- 
 morrow." 
 
 " We must allow him this," said the Squire. 
 
 " I have done with him," responded the captain, 
 with an attempt at the heroic mood. "If he 
 cannot see what we all see, why, he had better 
 stay at home — we shall do better without him." 
 
 " Tea has been announced three times," said 
 Mr. Summers, as if anxious to put an end to 
 the struggle for his company — " surely we had 
 better go to the ladies." 
 
 "There is no need for us to attend their 
 summons sooner than we like. If they are 
 unhappy, it is no more than their due " 
 
 The door having been opened by Mr. Sum- 
 mers in his anxiety, there suddenly penetrated 
 into the room a chorus of merry laughter. The 
 Squire stopped short in his speech. The ladies
 
 LORDS AND LADIES. 39 
 
 appeared to be enjoying themselves, when, in 
 truth, they ought to have been just the reverse. 
 
 " I shall go and tell Elizabeth," urged the 
 nerve Opiniatum in the Squire. 
 
 Dear reader, let us get there first.
 
 40 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 LENGE WAS ABSOLUTELY EXCHANGED AND 
 ACCEPTED BETWEEN THE " LORDS " AKD THE 
 
 There were five ladies in the drawing-room, 
 as there were five gentlemen in the dining- 
 room. 
 
 Mrs. Joscelyn had a peculiar talent for 
 arranging a party. She not only managed 
 always to secure a sufficiency of gentlemen (an 
 Herculean task in most country places), but 
 she knew the magic number ten enabled a 
 lady and gentleman to sit alternately next each 
 other all round the table — whereas eight or
 
 LORDS AND LADIES. 41 
 
 twelve, with the lady of the house seated at 
 the head of her table, necessitated two of the 
 same sex to sit side by side. Therefore ten 
 was her usual number for a sociable, lively, 
 and enjoyable dinner-party. 
 
 To say that the dinner itself was always of 
 the kind to promote these feelings is unne- 
 cessary, when we remember who was at the 
 head of the establishment. The Squire, with 
 his nerve Opiniatum riding in full triumph over his 
 entire personal structure, had vouched for the 
 fact; while Captain Crabshawe, in a chronic 
 state of bilious ill-temper, had been known to 
 smile through its worst phases, when asked to 
 dine at Deepcliffs. 
 
 The drawing-room was one of those lovely, 
 fragrant, elegant bowers that at the very first 
 glimpse told the male intruder it was sacred to 
 women, and women only, and they were only 
 admitted on protest. It was filled with beautiful 
 things, arranged with exquisite taste. It was
 
 42 LORDS AND LADIES. 
 
 not very large or very lofty, but it had little 
 ins and outs — one embayed window, the very 
 bovver for a flirtation ; two others, large, wide, 
 open, looking out on the sea, now silvered with 
 moonbeams. 
 
 There were little statuettes ; there were brackets 
 on the wall; there was a sprinkling of rare 
 china ; there were books in every direction ; 
 there were mirrors here and there — a confidiniT 
 clock, ticking with gentle music; chairs of a 
 luxurious, unique, inviting shape ; sofas in quiet 
 corners, plants in pots placed anywhere — some 
 with fragrant blossoms, others with a glorious 
 display of verdant leaves ; there were small 
 tables, with accommodation for two — a settee 
 just suited for a few girls to lounge on in happy 
 graceful idleness — in short, this room, as said 
 before, was a perfect ladies' bower. And though 
 it appeared arranged without the slightest art, not 
 a thing could be displaced that was bettered 
 by it. Mrs. Joscelyn, a little proud, as we have
 
 LORDS AND LADIES. 43 
 
 acknowledged, of her house, was, no doubt, a 
 little vain of her drawing-room. Everybody ex- 
 claimed, who entered it for the first time — " Oh ! 
 what a lovely, what a delicious, what a dear room!" 
 And now we must describe the mistress of it. 
 She is worthy of the room — without being a 
 marvellous beauty, she has the sweetest face any- 
 one could desire to look at. Her brown eyes 
 looked frankly, genially, kindly into yours. Her 
 brown hair, a shade lighter than her eyes, rippled 
 all over in lights and shadows, and was gathered 
 behind into great thick plaits, that, circling her 
 head, crowned her like a queen. She was tall, 
 slight, and graceful. There was nothing so 
 conspicuous about her as to strike immediately, 
 beyond the genial warmth of her greeting, but 
 insensibly you liked the more you looked. New 
 graces broke out in her every time she moved 
 or spoke, demanding fresh praises from you, 
 until, at last, no one knew Mrs. Joscelyn with- 
 out loving her heartily.
 
 44 LORDS AND LADIES. 
 
 She is knitting, silently, rapidly — knitting one 
 of the Squire's socks ; she does not look at her 
 knitting, but is watching three girls grouped on 
 th6 settee, who are gazing at the moonbeams, 
 kissing the little waves, as they rise up one 
 after another, pouting out their round lips, and 
 disappearing as rapidly as they come up. 
 
 Not far from her sits unmistakeably the female 
 A. S. As there was nothing remarkable about 
 her spouse, so there is nothing remarkable 
 about her, unless it be that the gaiety of her 
 dress but ill accords with the melancholy of her 
 countenance. 
 
 She has been sighing heavily and profoundly, 
 so as to cause the ribbons of her cap (she 
 thinks it dignified to wear a cap) gathered 
 into a sort of crowd on the top of her head, 
 to quiver and rise like the crest of a lively 
 cockatoo. Never still, her rich silk dress is in 
 an incessant state of rustle, and the tinkling of 
 all sorts of jewelry accompanies the sound.
 
 LOKDS AND LADIES. 4.5 
 
 The ribbons of her cap are pink, the prevailing 
 colour of her dress is blue, and she has 
 hustled on to her shoulders a sort of yellow 
 shawl or scarf. Thus there is no lack of colour 
 about her, except in her face. 
 
 Of the three girls on the settee, one soon 
 discovers herself to be still so much of a child 
 as to wear short frocks, but which of the two 
 is that she who owns a brown straw hat and 
 blue veil? or that other she who is so deter- 
 minately anxious to become Lady Follett? 
 
 Let the reader guess. 
 
 The elder of the two has a fair face, set 
 in a frame of raven dark hair. There is intellect 
 and power expressed in her brow, determination 
 and character in her well-developed mouth and 
 chin. She is beautifully made. No sculptor 
 could desire a better model — no painter could 
 wish for more dignity and grace. Doubtless 
 there was a certain disdain, a haughtiness, a 
 sort of cold indiffere^ice in her very attitude
 
 46 LORDS AND LADIES. 
 
 as she reclined there looking out at the moon, 
 but her companion whispered something to her, 
 a smile illumined her face, a blush rose to her 
 cheek — she became at once human and loveable. 
 
 As for that companion, she was a little dainty 
 creature ; she was like all the rosebuds in the 
 garden. She was wilful, too, showing thorns 
 as they did ; she pouted her lip, then she 
 laughed, anon she was imperious, again coaxing 
 — altogether, she was everything in a minute, 
 and pretty in all. 
 
 " Gossip," she had whispered, " you are in 
 love." 
 
 "Pooh, child!" answered gossip. 
 
 " You are — I declare you are ! I wish I could 
 love." 
 
 And the little thing looked overpoweringly 
 pathetic. 
 
 " Wish what, my dear?" asked Mrs. Joscelyn, 
 roused from her thoughts and her knitting by 
 the earnestness of the wish.
 
 LORDS AND LADIES. 47 
 
 ''That I could love." 
 
 "Ah! my dearest ^irl, wish nothing so fatal. 
 Pray — pray for the coldest heart, the hardest 
 nature. To love is to be — miserable." 
 
 It is needless to say that this sentence was 
 spoken by the female A. S., whose cap flut- 
 tered up its ribbons, whose dress seemed to 
 rustle out small groans, and whose bracelets 
 and ear-rings rang out little tinkles of warn- 
 ing. 
 
 "I think so differently from you, Arabella," 
 observed Mrs. Joscelyn ; " I consider it the 
 duty of everybody to fall in love once in their 
 lives. It does them a great deal of good, 
 whether the love ends well or ill." 
 
 '^ Gracious heavens! ^Mrs. Joscelyn, do my 
 ears deceive me?" 
 
 "I hope not. Bessie, my dear, I think you 
 must go to bed, the gentlemen don't seem in- 
 clined to come in to tea, and it is past nine 
 o'clock."
 
 48 LOKDS AND LADIES. 
 
 "But, mamma, I have not wished papa good 
 night." 
 
 "Give me his kiss, love, and he shall have 
 it when he comes in." 
 
 Miss Bessie was not proof against that power 
 which Mrs. Joscelyn seemed to possess over 
 every one who came near her, namely, to obey 
 her ; she paid her adieux, gave her mother 
 half-a-dozen kisses for herself and one for her 
 father, saying, 
 
 " He deserves no more for being so late," 
 and immediately took her departure. 
 
 As if about to witness a duel of words be- 
 tween the two elder ladies, the younger ones 
 turned to join them. 
 
 "I repeat what I said before. I add, more- 
 over, that there is no sight more pleasant to 
 me than to see a young couple seriously, 
 happily, and devoutly in love with each 
 other." 
 
 "Ah! I can remember such a time occurring
 
 LOEDS AND LADIES. 49 
 
 to me — remember ! it requires no remembrance ! 
 it was but as yesterday, and now " 
 
 "Now you are happily married, and to go 
 on love-making would be simply nonsensical. 
 I loA^e my husband with quite as much fervour 
 as any wife with whom I am acquainted, yet to 
 be perpetually showing it would seriously in- 
 convenience, I may say, annoy him, and make 
 people regard me as more fond than wise," 
 
 " And why should such a false state of things 
 exist? Augustus is — was — everything to me. 
 The whole world were welcome to see my devo- 
 tion to him ; the whole world might know I 
 cared nothing for all within it had I but him. 
 And yet you would have me believe that such 
 love as mine, expressed with only half its fer- 
 vour, would annoy him, and make me look 
 ridiculous." 
 
 " I agree with my aunt," said the least of the 
 two maidens ; " when I love, if ever I love, no 
 one shall see any signs of it but he." 
 
 VOL. I. E
 
 50 LORDS AND LADIES. 
 
 " He ! " laughed her gossip — '^ is not he Sir 
 George Follett?" 
 
 " By no means, gossip. I must, before I love 
 at all, have some one who will love me, and not 
 himself. Now, charming as I think myself, I 
 have not yet arrived at that consummation of 
 vanity, as to suppose that the person you have 
 named thinks of me in preference to himself!*' 
 
 "I think you are hard on Sir George, little 
 pet ; I consider he has a good heart." 
 
 " Oh ! you think well of everybody, dear Aunt 
 Elizabeth, and have such kind eyes, they dis- 
 cover virtues where we see only defects. If 
 that gentleman has a heart, which is what I 
 have never been able to discover, I am glad you 
 approve of it." 
 
 " I consider him utterly selfish and vain, like 
 all men." 
 
 "Now I rise up, Mrs. Spooner, and say, not 
 all men." 
 
 " Clara, you blush as you say it — poor girl ! poor,
 
 LORDS AND LADIES. 51 
 
 poor girl ! you are like a moth fluttering about the 
 candle." 
 
 ''She has not burnt her wings yet^ neither 
 shall she, while I am by!" exclaimed the little 
 one, hotly. 
 
 " Or I either," added Mrs. Joscelyn. " Come, 
 Clara, let us put you on a confessional. You 
 have now been with me two months, during 
 which time I have seen you the object of much 
 attention from one person. Indeed, so mucli so, 
 that yom' names are being coupled together. I 
 have observed that lately you are looking a 
 little anxious — is there anything I can do, as I 
 would for my little Bessie, that may end the 
 matter one way or the other?" 
 
 "No, my kind friend, nothing. If I have 
 looked anxious, it is more because I feel that 
 a crisis is impending over me " 
 
 " Avoid it, Clara — don't be tempted, ^^.miable 
 as Mr. Summers is, men are all deceivers 
 ever !" 
 
 E 2
 
 52 LORDS AND LADIES. 
 
 " I throw down my glove for him !" exclaimed 
 the rose-bud ; " he has but one fault — he is too 
 diffident." 
 
 " There are one or two causes for that," said 
 Mrs. Joscelyn; "the first one, I think, pro- 
 ceeds from Clara herself ; she is a little shy 
 and proud." 
 
 " It is true — I feel so. The more I am 
 interested, the less I show it. An orphan so 
 long, left so much to myself, every thought 
 repressed rather than encouraged, I hardly knew 
 what it was to express any feeling until I lived 
 with you all." 
 
 " This makes Mr. Summers, though he 
 has long ago made up his mind as to 
 his own feelings, hang back a little, so that 
 you may have ample time to probe your 
 heart." 
 
 "No," interrupted Mrs. Spooner, "it is not 
 that; it is that odious Crabshawe — Crabshawe 
 is the ruin of all the young bachelors about
 
 LORDS AND LADIES. 53 
 
 the place, and the destruction of all the married 
 men." 
 
 " You credit him with a vast deal more power 
 than I do," said Mrs. Joscelyn. 
 
 "I scarcely think I would stoop to enter 
 the lists with him," remarked Clara, assuming 
 her most disdainful air. 
 
 ^'I have been thinking it would amuse me 
 to get up a flirtation with Captain Crabshawe," 
 observed Kate. 
 
 "By way of making Sir George jealous, 
 Kate r 
 
 " That would be fun ! But I will tell you 
 Avhat would annoy Sir George the most, and 
 that is, for all of us to go away, and leave 
 him to the tender mercies of Captain Crab- 
 shawe." 
 
 "Let us go to one of the islands out 
 there, looking so lovely in the moonlight. 
 Will you take me and my little gossip, Mrs. 
 Joscelyn ? "
 
 54 LORDS AND LADIES. 
 
 "All! how exquisite! — do consent, my dear 
 friend, and let me accompany you. Away from 
 Aufijustus, he miglit remember other days, and 
 happier times, and repent " 
 
 "You do not any of you know what you 
 are talking about. Not a quarter of an hour 
 ago, Arabella, you were sighing and bewailing 
 because the gentlemen were so long in the 
 dining-room. Clara has all but aknowledged 
 she is in love, and Katie is dying to get 
 Captain Crabshawe into a flirtation, and yet 
 you have all the conscience to ask me to 
 carry you off to an island, away from them. 
 However, I consent. You will beseech me to 
 bring you biack in two days." 
 
 " No, we will promise to stay a whole week, 
 Aunt Elizabeth; I think it will do the gentle- 
 men a great deal of good to lose us for a while. 
 There is my uncle. Fond as I am of him, 
 oh ! my goodness me ! how he scowled as we 
 all left the dinner-room."
 
 LORDS AND LADIES. 55 
 
 "That was because I begged them not to 
 smoke ; I ought to have asked him privately, 
 and not before his company," 
 
 "And would you really humour him as 
 much as that, Mrs. Joscelyn? As a gentleman, 
 he ought to have submitted at once. I dare- 
 say that is why they remain so long in the 
 dinner-room ; Augustus is always ready to take 
 the part of a man against his wife !" 
 
 " And Captain Crabshawe is not behind- 
 hand. Gossip, suppose Mr. Summers " 
 
 " I will suppose nothing, Kate. Mr. Sum- 
 mers has not committed himself with me, and 
 is still free to choose whichever society pleases 
 him best." 
 
 "There's a moth with singed wings for you, 
 Mrs. Spooner — she is not hurt yet! But, 
 seriously, dearest, sweetest, kindest auntie, what 
 fun it would be to leave them all !" 
 
 " You are a little monkey, how can I oblige 
 you? My husband would not bear his home
 
 50 LORDS AND LADIES. 
 
 for a day without me ; not that I say so out 
 of vanity, but it is absolutely necessary to his 
 happiness that he should have some one to call 
 to, to shout at, to consult with, to scold, or 
 to pet ; to joke with, to confide in — in fact, he 
 is so gregarious, he can do nothing unless he 
 has some one to see him do it, or to help 
 him." 
 
 "He can have Captain Crabshawe." 
 
 "I wish you would consent, I want to give 
 Augustus a lesson." 
 
 "I really can hardly help laughing at the 
 notion. How astonished they would look ! " 
 
 " Ha ! ha !" laughed all the ladies ; and as 
 we know, dear reader, at a most unpropitious 
 moment for their ill-timed hilarity, made itself 
 heard in the dinner-room. Before it had well 
 ceased, tlie Squire, followed by all the gen- 
 tlemen, made his tardy appearance in the 
 drawing-room ; the frown on his face having a 
 marked character of indignation about it, which
 
 LOEDS AND LADIES. 57 
 
 was equally the characteristic of the expression 
 of three others. 
 
 Mrs. Joscelyn was usually a woman of much 
 tact, but this evening, not aware how seriously 
 she had offended — something hurt in her turn 
 at their long absence, yet also merry in her 
 heart at the island notion — she took no heed 
 to frowns or signs. 
 
 "John," she said flippantly, yes flippantly, 
 if such a word can be applied to her, "little 
 Bessie has gone to bed, and sent you this." 
 
 And she blew him a kiss, with an air the 
 most nonchalant that can be conceived. 
 
 The nerve Opiniatum quivered from head to 
 heel. So sudden and sharp was its spring 
 into action, that for a time speech was denied 
 the Squire. Not that he had expected to find 
 the ladies in tears, though they ought to have 
 been, considering all things, but accustomed 
 to feel that their manly wishes were the baro- 
 meter that should control them — having im-
 
 58 LORDS AND LADIES. 
 
 plicit faith in that mysterious sort of per- 
 ception that the female mind knew exactly 
 when to be merry or when to be sad, when to 
 take liberties or be submissive, when to reign 
 rampant or humbly obey — it was astonishing 
 the effect of this laughter, this '^ deuce-may- 
 care," this audacious blowing of kisses. It was 
 just as if he was mocked ! 
 
 Now, it is well understood by all those wise 
 people who have been at infinite pains to 
 make psychological discoveries, who have pene- 
 trated into the makings of man, sounded the 
 depths of his mind, the weight of his brain, 
 and arranged his bumps in an artistic and 
 praiseworthy order — who have sound reasons to 
 give for certain syllogisms that crop up in 
 man's daily deeds and doings, and have an 
 infinite variety of examples ready to prove all 
 the learned and inexplicable things they have 
 written on the subject — all these wise people 
 have made all these discoveries with the simple
 
 LORDS AND LADIES. 59 
 
 purpose of assuring us that there is a vast 
 difference, mentally and personally, between a 
 male and female biped. 
 
 We were pretty sure of this before, partly 
 owing to common personal observation, but still 
 it is highly satisfactory to have the testimony 
 of such learned people to corroborate us in the 
 idea that a man is always serious in whatever 
 he undertakes, while a woman is never serious 
 until a man makes her so. 
 
 Thus as we, dear reader, know, the gen- 
 tlemen had discussed their grievances with a 
 gravity and power of thought worthy the oc- 
 casion, while the ladies had lightly laughed 
 and gossiped, heedless of the signs of the 
 times. 
 
 The gentlemen had entered the drawing-room 
 big with the important subject of their discussion, 
 the ladies w^ere titterinij and jxijxMinor over the 
 frivolity of theirs, utterly regardless of a precipice 
 before them.
 
 60 LORDS AND LADIES. 
 
 It is needless to say, they brouf^^ht their own 
 fate upon themselves ; at the same time, they 
 must be excused as they did not know they 
 had seriously offended. 
 
 Meantime the Squire is about to speak. 
 
 What ccsthetical law prompted him to say 
 the words he did, or how psychologists can 
 account for the connection in his mind between 
 what he said and what he thought, I leave 
 them to define; but what he did say was — 
 and in rather a stronc^ rude voice, 
 
 ^'^I won't drink cold tea." 
 
 " This is just made for you, John ; ours had 
 been made an hour." 
 
 It was prettily said, accompanied by a pretty 
 look — part surprise that he could think she 
 \rould give him cold tea, and part reproof 
 that he should speak so loud in her drawing- 
 room. 
 
 The Squire was a just man ; he felt her 
 surprise was pardonable^ she had never as yet
 
 LOKDS AND LADIES. 61 
 
 given him cold tea, and he ought to have 
 vraited until she had done so to find fault. 
 But her reproof — what right had she to dictate 
 to him how he was to speak ? Was he to have 
 no peace anywhere in his own house? Not allowed 
 to smoke in his own dining-room, ordered to 
 modulate his voice to a certain pitch in his 
 own drawing-room — he had better not live in 
 the house at all, if he was to be bullied and 
 badgered at every turn. 
 
 "Mrs. Joscelyn, I am going away to-morrow 
 — alone." 
 
 *' Are you, John t " says she — (pause, Mrs. 
 Joscelyn, everything hangs upon these unspoken 
 words of yours; she doesn't pause, woman-like 
 she dashes on) — "we were just talking of the 
 same thing." 
 
 And, still amused in her mind at the idea, 
 Mrs. Joscelyn accompanied these words with a 
 smile. 
 
 Perhaps the words might have been forgiven,
 
 bZ LORDS AND LADIES. 
 
 but the smile never. For when Mrs. Joscelyn did 
 smile, it was by no means a furtive affair — 
 she smiled with her lips, her eyes, whole face, 
 dimples coming and going according to the 
 force of the smile. 
 
 The die was cast. From that moment the 
 nerve Opiniatum gained entire possession of the 
 Squire, and Reason, Precaution, and Pimdence 
 vacated their thrones. 
 
 We will leave ^Mr. and Mrs. Joscelyn to 
 light it out, and place ourselves behind the 
 sofa occupied by Mr. and ^Irs. Spooner. 
 
 Mrs. A. S. — " I hope you have enjoyed each 
 other's company ; one would suppose j^ou cared 
 for none other by the length of time you have 
 been in the dining-room." 
 
 Mr. A. S. — " We were discussing a most impor- 
 tant matter." 
 
 Mrs. A. S. — "No doubt — the price of cigars, 
 or who could smoke the greatest number." 
 
 Mr. A. S.— "I assure yob, Arabella "
 
 LORDS AND LADIES. 63 
 
 Mrs. A. S. — "Arabella, indeed! I remember 
 the time when it was Belle — my Belle " 
 
 Mr. A. S — " Well, Belle, my love, it had no 
 thino' to do with cigars." 
 
 He paused, conscious that he was unconsciously 
 telling a fib. 
 
 Mrs. A. S. — " Oh ! don't tell me — something 
 equally foolish ; hunting, perhaps — or the differ- 
 ence between a brown and a bay horse." 
 
 Mr. A. S.— "Not horses at all, dear Belle." 
 
 Mrs. A. S. — " The fight, then ; and you call 
 yourself a gentleman ! Oh ! Augustus, it is all 
 that Captain Grabshawe — he began to talk to 
 me about Heavite and Sting." 
 
 Mr. A. S. (laughing) — "Heenan and King, 
 my dear love." 
 
 The term of endearment was lost in the 
 laugh. Like the Squire, ridicule cut into her 
 mental organization as a knife into her bodily 
 frame. 
 
 Mrs. A. S. — "Don't mock me, sir. I thank
 
 64 LORDS AND LADIES. 
 
 goodness I am not acquainted with ' any of 
 your fisti-cuffers." 
 
 Mr. A. S. — "I thank goodness, too — I don't 
 wish you to know them, even by name." 
 
 Mrs. A. S. (mollified) — " Then, may I ask what 
 kept you so long in the dinner-room?" 
 
 The question thus clearly put, Mr. Spooner 
 felt puzzled to answer. Like men of his stamp, 
 worthy good creatures, and invaluable in their 
 way, as are the fleecy flock, he did not see why 
 he should take upon his mild, peaceful shoulders 
 the onus of the present state of affairs. There 
 were some big cattle grazing in his meadow, 
 especially a noble bull, capable of bearing any 
 amount of burden. 
 
 Mr. A. S. — " It was the Squire ; he was not 
 pleased about — about the smoking, you know. 
 Belle." 
 
 Mrs. A. S. — "As if any fool could not see 
 that! He frowned on Mrs. Joscelyn like an 
 ogre."
 
 LORDS AND LADIES. 65 
 
 Mr. A. S. — " So we stayed longer than we 
 should have done." 
 
 Mrs. A. S. — " Of course ! not that we wanted 
 you — we were very happy without you — indeed, 
 so happy, that we think of going away — of 
 leaving you, of living by ourselves awhile." 
 
 Mr. A. S. — (alarmingly astonished). — "Why, 
 Arabella ?" 
 
 Mrs. A. S.— " Don't Arabella me, sir I" 
 
 Mr. A. S.— " But, Arabella " 
 
 Mrs. A. S.— " Will you insult me ?" 
 
 Mr. A. S.— "By heavens, Arabella !" 
 
 Mrs. A. S. — (in her turn alarmingly astonished). 
 — " Augustus, you have been drinking too much 
 wine!" 
 
 Mr. A. S. — " And you have been listening at 
 the dinner-room door." 
 
 Let us draw a veil over the rest of this 
 conversation. In the first place, 'tis not man- 
 ners to listen to a matrimonial squabble; and in the 
 second place, we can perfectly guess what ensued. 
 
 VOL. I. F
 
 66 LORDS AND LADIES. 
 
 Five people are seated on or near the settee, 
 close to the open window. Miss Daintree and 
 Sir George nearly dos-a-dos. Miss Severn on 
 a little stool just outside the window ; Gap- 
 tain Crabshawe standing up before them both, 
 his arm firmly linked in the arm of Mr. 
 Summers. It required no effort of the imagi- 
 nation to conjecture that Captain Crabshawe 
 had a mutinous subject by the arm, and meant 
 to hold fast on to him, dangerous enemies being 
 in sight. These dangerous enemies he resolved 
 to do battle with at once. 
 
 " We are afraid, really, that our presence 
 causes you some annoyance, ladies." 
 
 "People are not usually annoyed at nothing, 
 Captain Crabshawe." 
 
 " Ah, well. Miss Daintree," continued her 
 unconscious victim ; " I am glad you have the 
 justice to own it is nothing, though, of course, 
 you cannot expect us to be of the same opinion. 
 Let me tell you, 'tis no joke to thwart a man
 
 LORDS AND LADIES. 67 
 
 — a man is a being, Miss Daintree, who loves 
 and has a right to have his own way. A man 
 likes quiet, peace, worn " 
 
 "And a place to smoke in," interrupted Miss 
 Daintree. 
 
 "Very good — very good — I am glad you 
 allow that, though, unfortunately, all are not 
 of your opinion. And because all are not of 
 your opinion, we think of going away — leaving 
 
 you." 
 
 " Oh ! how nice ! — Clara, do you hear ? now 
 we can go to one of the islands by ourselves." 
 
 "But we are going to the islands." 
 
 "You cannot Kve on all of them at once. 
 There is Eibble, and Puff, and Luff, besides 
 the little Nid." 
 
 " But why do you want to go to an 
 island r 
 
 "To be somewhere out of the way of the 
 smell of tobacco." 
 
 Hardly believing his ears, and infinitely 
 
 F 2
 
 68 LORDS AND LADIES. 
 
 puzzled as to the extraordinary fact that the 
 ladies had been planning a scheme, the counter- 
 part of tliat of the gentlemen, Captain Crab- 
 shawe inadvertently let go the arm of his 
 prisoner, and sat down by Miss Daintree to 
 get this mysterious matter explained. 
 
 " That's a dear creature — come and sit by 
 me, and we will have ever so much of an 
 argument." 
 
 More wonderment still — she had called him 
 a " dear." He did not ever remember to have 
 been so affectionately addressed before. The 
 sensation was pleasant, decidedly pleasant — he 
 would like to hear it again. 
 
 "Anything to please you. Miss Daintree." 
 
 " Good gracious ! turn your face round — was 
 it Captain Crabshawe that spoke ? It is — 
 well ! wonders will never cease !" 
 
 "Is there anything odd in what I have 
 said?" 
 
 "Oh, dear, yes ! it is so odd that you should
 
 LOEDS AND LADIES. 69 
 
 have said a civil thing to a woman — nobody 
 will believe me if I tell them; they will say 
 I am the vainest little creature." 
 
 "Then they will say what is untrue. As 
 far as I know to the contrary, I should say, 
 Miss Daintree, you had as little vanity as any 
 woman I know." 
 
 "That is not saying much, considering how 
 you hate our sex — but thank you all the same. 
 Captain Crabshawe." 
 
 " She might have said * dear,' " thought 
 that worthy to himself ; " she is a pretty little 
 thing — I don't think Follett is worthy of 
 her." 
 
 "Can't you make room for me in front, 
 Crab," asked that young gentleman in an ag- 
 grieved tone. 
 
 "Oh! dear no. Sir George, my crinoline 
 wants the room of three, and Captain Crab- 
 shawe has not over-much to spare. Have you, 
 nowf
 
 70 LORDS AND LADIES. 
 
 "What a fool the girl is!" thought Sir 
 George. 
 
 "Nice little thing," thought the Captain, 
 " she prefers me." 
 
 When vanity assails a man, he has the 
 disease worse than any female. W^ith his odd 
 shaped head spinning with unusual sensations, 
 and his whole soul bent upon making pretty 
 little Miss Daintree call him " dear " again, 
 Captain Crabshawe was wholly oblivious to the 
 escape of his prisoner, and the disappearance 
 simultaneously of Miss Severn. 
 
 "Now tell me all about it — are you all 
 going to the island, and how long shall you 
 stay there?" 
 
 " Yes, Miss Daintree, I am happy to say 
 Ave are unanimous — we all go, and we mean 
 to stay at least a month !" 
 
 " Only a month ! I hope Aunt Elizabeth 
 will not think it necessary to come home 
 because my uncle does."
 
 LORDS AND LADIES. 71 
 
 "Miss Daintree, are jou serious in your 
 intentions to go to an island?" asked Sir 
 George. 
 
 '^ Yes, to the full as serious as you." 
 
 "You will be bored." 
 
 "Pardon me, you will be bored." 
 
 " How ? — how ? Now, Miss Daintree, how do 
 you make that out?" 
 
 " Well, Captain Crabshawe, who is to mend 
 your gloves ?" 
 
 "I shall." 
 
 " Sew on your buttons V 
 
 " I will sew on buttons against any woman 
 living." 
 
 " Order your dinners ?" 
 
 "Pooh! — pooh! do you think we are fools?" 
 
 " Keep your house tidy ?" 
 
 " There is not a woman living so tidy as 
 me." 
 
 "But still you will be dull; you will have 
 no one to scold, no one to quarrel with."
 
 72 LORDS AND LADIES. 
 
 "That's the very reason we go — we men 
 love peace and quiet — we will give up every- 
 thing to have that comfort." 
 
 "And unlimited smoking. Well, but, Captain 
 (yrabshawe, let you and me be serious. I will 
 make a bet with you. If we go to one island, 
 and you to another, I will bet you a new 
 hat to a new bonnet, that you not only tire 
 of it the soonest, but that you quarrel the 
 most." 
 
 " That is my opinion," said Mrs. Joscelyn, 
 coming forward. 
 
 "And mine," sighed Mrs. Spooner, emerging 
 from a corner with rather red eyes. 
 
 The Squire uttered a wrathful "Pooh ! 
 pooh !" 
 
 Captain Crabshawe burst into an indignant 
 denial. 
 
 Mr. Spooner bridled and tried to be angry; 
 while Sir George seized the only opportunity 
 he had, and whispered over the settee,
 
 LORDS AND LADIES. 73 
 
 "Miss Daintree, oblige me, don't go to this 
 island," and then he drew back, absolutely 
 shuddering at the rashness of his proceeding. 
 If she did oblige him, he should have, he 
 supposed, to make her an offer. There was 
 no escape for him. Yes — he is saved. 
 
 " It is very wicked of me, Sir George, but 
 I am so fond of obliging myself. And besides, 
 this is my scheme — mine was the brilliant 
 idea. But come. Captain Crabshawe, is it a 
 bargain I You have not accepted my bet." 
 
 "Miss Daintree, I am willing to stake one 
 hundred pounds on the trial." 
 
 " How nice ! — what shall I buy with that 
 hundred pounds? Something pretty for you, 
 certainly, Captain Crabshawe. One of the new 
 fashionable ties ; or a dozen bottles of Eau 
 de Cologne, or perhaps a ring. It is but fair 
 you should have your choice." 
 
 Naughty little creature ! It is hard to say 
 which she enjoyed most — befooling the Captain,
 
 74 LORDS AND LADIES. 
 
 or ignoring the Baronet — but, as she said after- 
 wards, " It was all for your sake, gossip. Natur- 
 ally, I am not such a little wretch." 
 
 And so thus it came about that the nerve 
 Opiniatum of the Squire, the ill-tempers of 
 Captain Crabshawe, the spleen of Mr. Spooner, 
 and the fear of Sir George, gained the day. 
 
 The ladies had much in their power at one 
 time, if they could but have seen their ad- 
 vantage, and profited by it. But ^Irs. Joscelyn 
 suffered the favourable moment to pass, and 
 no other was given her. 
 
 It now became a Babel of protestations on 
 both sides, as to which party was the most 
 in earnest. 
 
 "I want to be off to-morrow," growled the 
 Squire. 
 
 '^That can't be," said Mr. Spooner, ^' we 
 must go to Rampton, to the agent, and hire 
 the island; I know him, and will undertake 
 that business."
 
 LOEDS AND LADIES. 75 
 
 "Will you hire the other for usf asked 
 Mrs. Joscelyn. 
 
 " Certainl}^, madam ; which is it you wish 
 to have?" 
 
 " It would not be fair for either of us to 
 go to Ribble, as there are inhabitants on it. 
 There is no house on Nid, so the choice re- 
 mains between Puff and Luff." 
 
 " Oh, dear aunt ! of course the gentlemen 
 must take Puff. Its very name is sug- 
 gestive." 
 
 " Are the houses equally good on both V 
 
 "Luff has the most comfortable one." 
 
 "Then, Elizabeth, you shall have Luff for 
 your party." 
 
 " Thank you, my dear John, it shall be 
 so." 
 
 " But how far are the islands apart ?" asked 
 Captain Crabshawe anxiously; "we must not 
 be too near." 
 
 "Three miles,"
 
 76 LORDS AND LADIES. 
 
 ^*You must promise, Mrs. Joscelyn, not to 
 come over to our island, on an}^ pretence." 
 
 " Oh, Captain Crabshawe ! suppose you 
 should be ill and want a nurse f 
 
 "Well, Miss Daintree, I have been ill 
 before now, and, thank God, I was able to 
 nurse myself well again. By-the-by, where's 
 Summers? Frank, Frank! where are you?" 
 
 *^Here!" said the amiable Frank, looking in 
 from the window ; '^ I have been listening 
 with the utmost attention to this Babel of 
 tongues." 
 
 " Then of course you know what is settled ; 
 of course your mind is made up — you ac- 
 company us. You wouldn't flinch now ?" 
 
 " Flinch ! no indeed ! I am ready to go to- 
 morrow." 
 
 " Humty turn ti ti ! " murmured the Cap- 
 tain. 
 
 ^'Do you sing, Captain Crabshawe?" inter- 
 rupted the little rose-bud.
 
 LORDS AND LADIES. 77 
 
 " No, Miss Daintree ! But can you tell me 
 where Miss Severn has vanished to?" 
 
 " She has probably gone to bed ; you know 
 it was almost ten o'clock before you came 
 into the drawing-room. Then you have had 
 tea, and I have been flirting with you ever 
 since." 
 
 Flirting! a grim smile came to Captain 
 Crabshawe's puckered mouth, which broke out 
 into a sort of a horse chuckle as he looked 
 at Sir George. 
 
 "Follet is jealous," thought he, "and Frank 
 has been snubbed — Miss Severn has shewn her 
 tempers; so much the better, we shall be all 
 the merrier on the island." 
 
 "I think," said Mr. Spooner, touched by 
 his wife's red eyes, "we had almost better 
 settle no more to-night, but sleep over the 
 thought. Probably we shall all think differently 
 in the morning!"
 
 78 LORDS AND LADIES. 
 
 A torrent of invectives flew about his head 
 for the insinuation. 
 
 " I go, if no one else does !" said the 
 Squire. 
 
 " Our honour is concerned," added his wife ; 
 " we feel that somehow, unintentionally, we 
 have offended you. Good gentlemen, for this 
 we ask pardon, as befits dutiful wives and 
 submissive young damsels. But as to giving 
 up our challenge, as to supposing that we are 
 unable to live without the company of your — 
 your esteemed sex, we insist upon being put 
 to the proof." 
 
 " It is not so much that, madam — I dare- 
 say you might contrive to get on very w^ell 
 without us, for a time ; but I contend that 
 we are independent of you altogether. In fact, 
 madam, to speak plainly, a woman is a tax 
 upon a man's time, patience, and peace of mind. 
 They may be luxuries, but they ai'e useless 
 and expensive 1"
 
 LORDS AlfD LADIES. 79 
 
 " If such are your feelings, Captain Crab- 
 shawe, and if thej are responded to by the 
 rest of the crentlemen, we can but promise 
 you the utmost expedition in releasing you 
 from the annoyance of our society. To-day 
 is Wednesday ; Mrs. Spooner, may I answer 
 for you, as well as myself and the girls, we 
 shall be ready to start on Monday?" 
 
 " Sooner if you can, Mrs. Joscelyn," 
 responded Mrs. Spooner, in a voice that could 
 not make up its mind whether it would be a 
 cry or a sob. 
 
 " Not until Monday f exclaimed one or two, 
 in disappointed tones. 
 
 " No, we do not intend to live like sa- 
 vages. I must have the house cleaned and 
 aired." 
 
 " There, Squire, do you hear ? Thank, 
 heavens, we are independent of any such 
 nonsense !" 
 
 " Still, Crabshawe, we have enough to do.
 
 LOEDS AND LADIES. 
 
 Let us all at once agree to say Monday; we 
 shall find the time little enough," remonstrated 
 Mr. Spooner.
 
 81 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 HOW THE CLOUD OF SMOKE GRADUALLY EN- 
 VELOPES OUR HEROES AND HEROINES FROM ALL 
 EYES BUT THOSE OF THE READER AND WRITER. 
 
 The writer being, as he hopes, on the best of 
 terms with his reader, the latter will not think 
 it necessary for the former to enter into anj 
 detail of the awakening feelings of the Puffs 
 and Luffs (as we may now call them) on the 
 following morning. It is enough to say, that 
 several of them repented the bargain made the 
 evening before with such vehemence, that one 
 or two were openly heard to say " that they 
 were all mad together, or silly as cliildren," 
 VOL. I. G
 
 82 LORDS AND LADIES. 
 
 which latter state was more humiliating than 
 the former. Probably the whole scheme would 
 have fallen to the ground, spite of Captain 
 Crabshawe's powerful appeals, had it not been 
 that he was backed up by the Squire, and 
 absolutely encouraged by no less a person than 
 Mr. Summers. Yes, Mr. Frank Summers ap- 
 peared the next morning at Deep-Cliffs; but 
 we ought to describe Deep-Cliffs, and how it 
 was situated, and wdiy so many Puffs and Luffs 
 met there, and all such particulars, which, 
 without being parts of the story, are yet neces- 
 sary to the filling-up of the picture, making 
 that truthful and natural which, under careless 
 handling, would have all the appearance of 
 improbability and romance. 
 
 Deep-Cliffs was the name of the house in 
 which the Joscelyn had spent every summer 
 since they married. It was their own property 
 — purchased with part of the money ^Irs. 
 Joscelyn brought to her husband as her fortune.
 
 LORDS AND LADIES. 83 
 
 Mr. Joscelyn's own paternal borne was situated 
 fifty miles further inland, but in w^bat county 
 the reader is considerately allowed to fix for 
 himself. 
 
 Deep-Cliffs was situated on tbe coast, wbich 
 coast of course tbe reader will be careful to re 
 member is in tbe same county as tbe bouse and tbe 
 town above mentioned. Tbe scenery was grand 
 and bold, in some parts romantically beauti- 
 ful; for deep dingles or ravines, nursing in 
 tbeir sbeltered bosoms every tree and flower 
 tbat Nature loves best, ran dow^n to tbe 
 beacb, carrying witb tbem little noisy, ligbt- 
 some brooks, tbat no sooner burst cbeerily out 
 into tbe wide world, tban tbey were lost and 
 submerged in tbe wider w^orld of sea. 
 
 In tbe grounds belonging to Deep-Cliffs, 
 wbicb covered an extent of seven bundred 
 acres, was a dingle nitbcr larger and wider 
 tban most of tbem. 
 
 Here tbe trees grew to a forest size, bere 
 
 g2
 
 84 LORDS AXD LADIES. 
 
 the brook had to be spanned by bridges, and 
 a winding carriage road led from the house 
 down to the sea, all through the dingle. The 
 terminus was a small pleasure or boat- 
 house, where Mr. Josceljn kept one or two 
 boats and a yawl. To launch these, he had 
 built a small dock, into which the little brook 
 ran with jocund impetuosity, confident that it 
 had at last found a space wherein it could 
 expand, and assume almost the importance of 
 a lake — but, alas ! only to find itself drippling 
 ignominiously away through a sluice — on — on — 
 its sweet water lost in the brine of ocean. 
 
 The house of Deep-Cliffs was just the sort 
 of house that ought to belong to Mrs. Joscelyn. 
 They suited each other. She was an elegant 
 woman — the house was an elegant house. She 
 was cheery and warm-hearted — the house was 
 sunny and sweet; every door and every win- 
 dow generally in a hospitable state of wide- 
 openness.
 
 LORDS AND LADIES. 85 
 
 . Nobody looked at Mrs. Joscelyn without 
 feeling gratified in one way or another; no 
 one entered Deep -Cliffs without experiencing 
 the delightful sensation of being at home. The 
 inhabitants usually dwelling there are ^Ir. and 
 Mrs. Joscelyn, two sons, now at school, one 
 little girl, Bessie, the only being who leads 
 the Squire completely by the nose, seven male 
 and female servants. 
 
 The visitors are Kate Daintree, that little 
 flirt, niece to Mrs. Joscelyn; her friend and 
 gossip. Miss Clara Severn, the young lady sus- 
 piciously gifted with a temper. 
 
 These are stajdng in the house. 
 
 Spending the day, this important day, that 
 gave birth to the Puffs and Luffs, are Mr. 
 and Mrs. Spooner, who usually dwell in the 
 neighbouring town of Rampton, where Mr. 
 Spooner, is the acting partner in the only 
 bank, and so — a person of importance. 
 
 Captain Crabshawe, also a dweller in Rampton,
 
 SQ LORDS AND LADIES. 
 
 but whereabouts he lives in it few of his 
 friends know. It has been conjectured that he 
 has lods^ngs in a house a short way from town, 
 belonging to the nursery gardens. Again it is 
 conjectured that he does not live there but 
 his mother does; and rumour is still further, so 
 unkind as fo say that his mother is the wife 
 of Jenkyns, the nurseryman and seedsman of the 
 town of Rampton. But as the settling of this 
 question has nothing to do with the Puffs and 
 Luffs, with the reader's permission we will let it 
 be. Should inquiries, which the writer will 
 consider it his duty to make, prove that the 
 question of Captain Crabshawe's having a mo- 
 ther, and that mother re-maiTied to Jenkyns, 
 nurseryman and seedsman, is a mother of whom 
 he may be proud, notification shall be made 
 of her history in an appendix ; or perhaps, 
 should such a fortuitous state of things occur 
 as a second edition — but, tut! tut! — expectation 
 plays the fool with many ! and, in regard to
 
 LORDS AND LADIES. 87 
 
 authors, the maiden and her basket of eggs, 
 the Arabian porter and his tray of crockery, 
 are mild instances compared with the vagaries 
 she makes them believe. But 7'evenous a nos Puffs. 
 
 The whereabouts of Captain Crabshawe must 
 remain a mystery — partly because the writer 
 knows nothing about them, and partly because 
 the revelation is of no consequence. 
 
 Very different from Sir George Follett. He 
 is that fortunate young man who owns almost 
 the whole of Rampton. He has the satisfaction 
 of driving through a street called Follett Street, 
 up to an hotel bearing the Follett arms. He 
 sees a lane called George Lane, and the square 
 is styled Castle Square, because Sir George's 
 own house is a castle, and named Follett Castle. 
 
 Besides the town of Hampton, he owns half 
 the county. He is Lord of the Manor, he has 
 moors, he has mines, he has quarries, he has 
 forests — in short, like the Man^uis of Carabas, 
 he has everything. So, upon the whole, we
 
 88 LORDS AND LADIES. 
 
 must not be surprised that he thinks every 
 woman wants to marry him. It is very amiable 
 of him that he holds out so long, so that the 
 most dejected have still the satisfaction of 
 " hoping." 
 
 He is very fond of the Squire, and with 
 very good reason, too. The Squire, as we have 
 seen, is one of those mettlesome gentlemen 
 who will speak his mind. If he does not 
 agree with an opinion expressed, he flatly con- 
 tradicts, be the man who he may. 
 
 When the Lord-Lieutenant was about to 
 make a man a magistrate who was of that 
 species of character that he might sit in judg- 
 ment upon himself with quite as much justice 
 as any criminal broucyht before him, was 
 not Squire Joscelyn the only man who went 
 boldly up and bearded him? 
 
 "My lord, if you make that man a magis- 
 trate, we will none of us sit on the bench 
 with him."
 
 LORDS AND LADIES. 89 
 
 "Then let him sit alone." 
 
 "My lord, I'll memorialise you. I shall go 
 off to the Home-Secretary by the first train." 
 
 "Be quiet, Mr. Joscelyn; remember you are 
 not in the hunting -field." 
 
 "A true hound is known by his yelp — I 
 am in earnest." 
 
 "Then you have run your fox to earth, 
 and your sport is over. I have no intention to 
 make the person you name a magistrate." 
 
 "I beg your pardon, my lord. I have had 
 a woo-whoop, and will now carry home the 
 brush as a trophy. We have your pro- 
 mise." 
 
 And he got it. 
 
 It was because the squire was so honest 
 and true that Sir George liked him. From 
 him he always got the thought of his heart, 
 and he could trust him almost better than his 
 own rather weak wayward mind. 
 
 As for Mr. Summers, he was an clifrible
 
 90 LORDS AND LADIES. 
 
 young bachelor, living in the town of Hampton. 
 He had an independent fortune, but still, dis- 
 liking idleness, he had undertaken the super- 
 intendence of the working of a mine leased 
 out by Sir George to a company. 
 
 After his business was over he had an in- 
 veterate habit of taking his boat and rowing 
 himself over to Deep-Cliff's Cove. Within 
 the little lake, or pond or dock, he moored 
 his vessel safely, as in expectation of storms, 
 which storms he would invoke or pray for all 
 the way as he ran up to Deep-Cliff's House. 
 Not from a misanthropic state of mind, 
 as regarded sailors and all their perils, but 
 because he desired to be wind-bound at Deep- 
 Cliff. To be sure, it was very selfish of him, 
 but then 'tis but right to allow this disease 
 had only attacked him lately. Two months 
 before he had not shown even a symptom, 
 though now it was so violent he was always 
 praying for stormy weather, in the height -of
 
 LOEDS AND LADIES. 91 
 
 summer, after six o'clock. And here he is. 
 showing the malady in another form. After 
 almost quarrelling mth all his friends over- 
 night, he is now upholding Captain Crab- 
 shawe and the Squire in all their crinks and 
 cranks, seemingly as possessed by the nerve 
 Opiniatum as they are. 
 
 Evidently Mr. Spooner would cry |76ccat'i 
 on merely the hint, and Sir George has been 
 even a little mutinous. 
 
 Again, my dear reader, I take you into my 
 confidence. These two gentlem.en — these two 
 flat and degenerate Puffs — are regretting the 
 "flesh-pots of Egypt." Captain Crabshawe is 
 holding forth on that fine, satisfying, and truth- 
 ful couplet — or rather the sense of it, for he is 
 innocent of knowing a line of poetry, or, in- 
 deed, why poetry is different from prose — 
 
 " Man wants but little here below, 
 Nor wants that little long," 
 
 and they don't seem to agree with him. So
 
 92 LORDS AND LADIES. 
 
 far from wanting "little," they require a 
 fijreat deal, and all the more because they 
 can't have it " loner." 
 
 However, as the preparations go on they 
 catch a little of the enthusiasm. Also the 
 ladies keep up a perpetual taunting, until 
 they are goaded into a sort of desperation, 
 which acts the part of keeping them up to 
 the mark. 
 
 Then there are a great many squabbles. 
 They argue about servants, they disagree 
 about having provisions; the gentlemen are 
 nettled at the ladies providing themselves with 
 a piano, and the ladies are huffed because 
 the gentlemen will have the Times every 
 day. 
 
 The Squire thinks that his Elizabeth is 
 much too cheerful, considering she is not only 
 in his black books, but is going to leave him 
 for a month ; and though he is too proud to 
 tell her, he has a perception that he will miss
 
 LORDS AND LADIES. 93 
 
 her most dreadfully, and it is her business, 
 and not his, to say so. And there is his Kttle 
 Bessie — he has almost a mind to make her 
 come with him. 
 
 " Oh ! law, no, papa I" exclaimed Miss Bessie, 
 as he half in fun mentioned his idea. "I dare 
 not ! Captain Crabshaw^e is going to poison 
 every woman who comes near Puff." 
 
 "But you are not a woman, Bessie." 
 
 "That doesn't matter, papa, I wear petti- 
 coats." 
 
 " Put on your brother s clothes^ and come 
 with me." 
 
 "No, I thank you, papa. I am much too 
 proud for that. I don't like men at all, 
 excepting just you, papa ; and ' I would rather 
 be the smallest woman that ever lived, than 
 the finest man that ever was born !" 
 
 "Bessie is true to her sex," remarked her 
 mother. 
 
 Mr. Spooner thinks his Arabella might at
 
 94 LORDS AND LADIES. 
 
 least return to the fondness of their bridal 
 days, as they are about to part for the first 
 time since their marriage. While she is alto- 
 gether so ruflBed, so excited, so nervous, that 
 she is as troublesome to the Puffs, as she is 
 wearisome to the Luffs. She has no time to 
 think of her Augustus and his claims upon 
 her affections — she is in one perpetual worry 
 as what she shall take, and wdiat she will 
 leave behind — what she will really want, and 
 what she can do without. 
 
 " Did you ever see such a woman I " had 
 the captain remarked ; " the Lord be thanked ! 
 — on Monday there will be three miles of 
 water between her and us !" 
 
 This was the real distance that was about to 
 separate the Puffs from the Luffs, the Lords and 
 the Ladies, for a month — a month being the time 
 settled on for the challenge to be won or lost. 
 
 Sir George Follett is deeply grieved at the 
 flighty, foolish conduct of Miss Daintree. So
 
 LORDS AND LADIES. 95 
 
 far from feeling — much less intimating, a little 
 sorrow at the parting for so long (he feels 
 himself it is much too long), she is singing 
 all over the house, packing for everybody. 
 When quiet at last, she is so busy making 
 herself a cotton-dress for Luff duty, that she 
 has no time to listen to him. He watches 
 her, shaping out the dainty waist ; he marks 
 the little earnest frown of anxiety, which gives 
 her sweet little rose-bud face such a wise 
 look ; he is quite in love with the way in 
 which she smooths her work, taps it; the air 
 with which she threads her needle, the inten- 
 sity she puts into the making of a knot ; 
 even that dreadful unlady-like trick of placing 
 a pin between her lips — (in a hurry she wanted 
 a third hand, so that must be her excuse) ; 
 he found no fault with that — he did not think 
 it dreadful or unlady-like — he only had a sort of 
 longing to be that pin. 
 
 And then, one evening, when she went out
 
 96 LORDS AND LADIES. 
 
 alone, and he followed her — he scarcely knew why 
 — he did not know what might be the consequence, 
 but he followed her. He discovered her with 
 Susan, the maid that was going with them to Luff. 
 Susan was teaching her to milk Daisy, the 
 cow ; how she laughed with glee — how she 
 chatted to Susan of all they would do — of 
 their happiness — their freedom — he hidden be- 
 hind the great laui'el; — a great bitterness came 
 into his heart. 
 
 "She is nothing but a silly child, not 
 worth thinking about. In fact, she has no 
 heart!" 
 
 As for Miss Severn, she seemed radiant with 
 happiness, entering into all the packing and 
 arrangements with a spirit and thought that 
 excited even the Squire's admiration. 
 
 As for Frank, he was here, there, and 
 everywhere — whistling, singing, laughing, joking, 
 working harder than any of them, hearing of 
 no compromise, comforting Spooner, and coax-
 
 LORDS AND LADIES. 97 
 
 ing Follett. People might have supposed they 
 were all going to Puff and Luff solely to oblige 
 him. 
 
 "I say," said the Captain, to any new friend, 
 "a word in your ear. He has been refused, 
 and is carrying off his disappointment with a 
 high hand. Ha! ha! catch me ever being re- 
 fused by a woman !" 
 
 Without entering into all the Captain's feel- 
 ings, Frank's friends agreed that such was 
 his fate, such the reasons of his conduct. 
 They admired him, they honoured him for it. 
 It should be the endeavour of all, while at 
 Puff, to pour balm into his wounded feel- 
 ings. 
 
 And now came the final moment — the part- 
 ing hour. It is needless to puzzle the reader 
 with all the minutiae of their packings and 
 arrangements; how the yawl went to and 
 fro, with furniture, food, and necessaries ; how 
 the ladies only took one servant ; and how 
 VOL. I. H
 
 98 LORDS AND LADIES. 
 
 the gentlemen intended to go without any, 
 just to show their independence, and finally 
 engaged two. In fact, Sir George would not 
 go without his servant Sam. Sam was one 
 of those faithful, worthy, attached servants, 
 that he was miserable if his master went any- 
 where without him — his master reciprocating 
 the sentiment tenfold. So after a hard battle 
 with Captain Crabshawe, Sam was conceded, 
 on the condition that he made himself useful 
 to all the gentlemen, as well as his master. 
 
 This had been scarcely settled half a day, 
 when all the Puffites were amazed at hearing 
 that Captain Crabshawe had engaged another 
 man to go with them, who rejoiced in the dis- 
 cordant name of Scruttles! 
 
 " Hah ! " said the Captain, ignoring their ex- 
 pressions of astonishment at this change in his 
 tactics, '' hah ! — such a man ! — the very fellow 
 for us ! — turned up quite by accident ! He 
 knows a thing or two — he's up to dodges —
 
 LORDS AND LADIES. 99 
 
 he's a cook, a valet, a gamekeeper, a fisher- 
 man — he can even be a lady's-maid, if wanted, 
 which, thank the immortal powers, we don't — 
 he has been in Australia ! — in the bush !" 
 
 And he paused, that he might hear their 
 expressions of delight; but as they had not 
 got over their astonishment, none came. How- 
 ever, they were not ill-pleased to have this 
 Phoenix. 
 
 " I am going to enjoy myself," observed 
 the Squire; ^'and to do so, I must be com- 
 fortable ; and my notion of being comfortable 
 is to have servants to do certain thincps for me. 
 1 have no objection to make my owti bed, 
 and blacken my own boots, once in a way; 
 but I feel I shall not like to do so 
 often." 
 
 Before the final parting came, the form of 
 the challenge was drawn up, signed, sealed, and 
 delivered, each possessing a copy. 
 
 The substance of it was as follows : — 
 
 h2
 
 100 LORDS AND LADIES. 
 
 Each party bound themselves to stay a 
 month on their respective islands, only coming 
 on shore for church. 
 
 (Captain Crabshawe, had said, 
 
 " Why can't we read our prayers at home I" 
 
 " You can do so," answered Mrs. Joscelyn, 
 " but we go to church." 
 
 " Just to show off your fine bonnets and 
 silks and satins!" 
 
 "We should wish to avoid meeting you, 
 certainly, and shall therefore attend no church 
 at Rampton ; but will go to the little fish- 
 ing village of Exe, which is scarcely a mile 
 from Luff." 
 
 " Agreed." 
 
 "Our fine bonnets and silks and satins will 
 be rather wasted there. Captain Crabshawe ; 
 so perhaps you will give us credit for attending 
 church from other motives than the one you 
 so politely assigned us." 
 
 He was sorry to rouse Miss Severn's anger,
 
 LORDS AND LADIES. 101 
 
 but he never could understand what women 
 would be at, and he did not mean to bother his 
 head about them.) 
 
 Once a week the boat was to brino; each 
 island fresh provisions, clothes, books, and any- 
 thing required, but a male or female, on the 
 forbidden island. 
 
 Each party was to keep a journal, in 
 which all were bound upon honour to write 
 their impressions, at least once a week. 
 
 The challenge was lost by either party in- 
 vading the sacred dominions of the other. At 
 the same time, the ladies being of the order 
 weak and helpless, in case of any extraor- 
 dinary emergency, were to be permitted to 
 hoist a flag, as a signal of distress. 
 
 This item was sternly repudiated by the 
 Captain, and as warmly insisted on by Frank 
 Summers. Indeed, all the Puffs resolved that 
 it should be allowed — the Squire saying, 
 
 " It would make him happier."
 
 102 LORDS AND LADIES. 
 
 Mr. Spooner, all his tenderest feelings roused 
 by the approaching parting, declared he would 
 not go "unless it was a settled thing," while 
 Sir George remarked sotto voce, 
 
 " Just hoist the flag whenever you like, 
 Miss Daintree, and I will come myself." 
 
 " You are very kind^ but I fancy I would 
 rather die than do such a thing !" 
 
 " Oh ! nonsense, Miss Daintree ; there are a 
 number of things which would warrant 
 you doing so. Kobbers might invade your 
 island." 
 
 " Clara takes E-una — Mrs. Spooner has 
 Spitz." 
 
 "As if a Newfoundland dog and that 
 snarling little brute could assist you ! But 
 you may be dull." 
 
 " Oh, no ! I am going to take a kitten, 
 little Bessie has a canary, and we are going to 
 make ourselves very wise. I shall study astro- 
 nomy, and Clara means to teach us mollusc-
 
 LORDS AND LADIES. 103 
 
 ology, besides conchology, and geology- 
 
 " For Heaven's sake, don't, Miss Daintree ! 
 If there is a tiling in this world I dislike it 
 is a blue woman ; I mean a woman that is 
 blue — clever, you know." 
 
 " And do you mean to infer I am not 
 clever?" 
 
 " Of course, my dear Miss Daintree, I mean 
 nothing of the sort. What I dislike are 
 ^ ologists' of any kind. I cannot bear to think 
 of you ^ologising' in any way." 
 
 ^^But how can it affect you? I am a 
 Luffite, you a Puffite. Are we on speaking 
 terms ?" 
 
 " Oh ! Miss Daintree, I really think you 
 take a pleasure in teazing me." 
 
 "Fortunately for you, this is my last o])- 
 portunity. Good-bye, for a month — a whole 
 month !" 
 
 "Remember the flag — promise me to lioist 
 it."
 
 104 LORDS AND LADIES. 
 
 "I will die first! With all my faults, I am 
 true to my colours, and to my sex." 
 
 " She is provoking," murmured Sir George, 
 " but prettier than ever ; and it is the more 
 provoking that I can't help liking all she says 
 and does." 
 
 The challenge was lost if either party 
 added to, or took from, the numbers with 
 which they started, a margin being allowed 
 in the matter of servants. 
 
 "For," said the Captain, "we shall soon be 
 rid of that useless fellow Sam — Scruttles w^ill 
 do all that we require." 
 
 The challenge was lost if either party re- 
 ceived visitors for more than a day of their own 
 sex. The challenge was lost if either party 
 gave in. Thus all contingencies being consi- 
 dered, as said before, the documents were duly 
 signed, sealed, and executed by the Puffs and 
 Luffs. And now they are off — not quite at 
 the same moment, for the ladies are waiting
 
 LOKDS AND LADIES. 105 
 
 for Mrs. Spooner's hat, ordered for special 
 island duty. It had come home in time, 
 trimmed with pretty blue ribbons, but, con- 
 ceiving green to be more appropriate, Mrs. Spooner 
 had sent it back for this important alteration. 
 
 "Ha! ha!" was heard Captain Crabshawe's 
 laugh, as they rowed away — "we don't forget 
 anything." But in a few moments their boat 
 returned — the Squire had forgotten his fishing- 
 rod. 
 
 This rod he had carried about under his 
 arm at great inconvenience, not only to himself, 
 but everybody who came near him, all the 
 morning. He had awakened, he said, with the 
 impression that he should leave it behind him, 
 and he bore it about thus, to give his impression 
 the lie. 
 
 Nevertheless his impression had been true to 
 itself. He inadvertantly laid it down by a 
 mooring post at the dock, confident that it 
 would be safely remembered, so close at hand ;
 
 106 LORDS AND LADIES. 
 
 but in taking leave of Mrs. Joscelyn and little 
 Bessie, the natural feelings of husband and 
 father had obliterated those of fishing and in- 
 dependence. 
 
 Captain Crabshawe was aghast at the alacrity 
 with which his subjects (he being elected King 
 of Puff, as Mrs. Joscelyn was chosen Queen 
 of Luff) all took advantage of this return, 
 and popped out like rabbits from his boat, to 
 go and exchange a few last words with the 
 ladies, sitting in their boat. However, he 
 gathered them all together again — Frank Sum- 
 mers having the last parting word — 
 
 "Remember the flag." 
 
 It was a very elegant flag, and had been 
 presented to the ladies that morning, with many 
 pretty speeches. It was accepted by them in 
 an equally gracious manner. Indeed, the mo- 
 ment of their separation seemed to open all 
 their hearts to each other, obHterating all past 
 offences on either side, and making even
 
 LOEDS AND LADIES. 107 
 
 Captain Crabsliawe civil — not to say compli- 
 mentary 
 
 The gentlemen had the satisfaction of seeing 
 the messenger with the hat, speeding for his 
 life down the narrow precipitous path, that 
 led by a short cut from JOeep-Cliffs to the 
 beach. They gave a cheer, which came merrily 
 over the water, as they saw the ladies' boat 
 leave the shore. The two boats, to gain their 
 respective islands, had to go at right angles. 
 They watched each other until the intervening 
 island of Nid hid boat from boat. 
 
 They had a chance of sighting each other again 
 when Nid was past — that is, if other and more 
 exciting matters did not occupy their thoughts. 
 
 Meantime we must not lag — we have a 
 great deal to do before night, as it is neces- 
 sary to see both parties landed, and comfortably 
 located for the night. As is fitting, the gentle- 
 men shall have the post of honour, and their 
 doings shall be chronicled first.
 
 108 LORDS AND LADIES. 
 
 It is needless to say, they were all in good 
 spirits. That love of adventure and frolic, 
 which is supposed to dwell in all healthy and 
 happy frames, was allowed free scope. They 
 were all disposed to be extremely merry and 
 good-natured ; and Captain Crabshawe was so 
 beaming with benign and amiable thoughts, that his 
 countenance glowed with the milk of human 
 kindness ; while the Squire, unable to contain 
 the superabundance of his genial spirit, or to 
 keep his activity in, stripped off his coat and 
 took an oar — thus lending a willing hand to 
 row himself to his fate. 
 
 The crew consisted of the five Puffites, two 
 sailors, or boatmen, and the faithful Sam, who 
 sat in the bow of the boat, jammed up M'ith 
 all sorts of luggage — a crate of kitchen utensils 
 running into his back, and a barrel of beer 
 rocking over his toes ; while he ardently 
 clasped under each arm a stout bottle of 
 blacking ; patent varnish, d'Orsay's polish, and
 
 LOKDS AND LADIES. 109 
 
 Probert's cream paste, peeping out of his nu- 
 merous pockets. 
 
 It might be that Sam disapproved of the 
 whole plan, or that an obstreperous toasting- 
 fork was lacerating some part of his person, 
 or that the barrel of beer rolled over a tender 
 corn, or that he was aware he was bristUng 
 over with bottles, and that the least move- 
 ment on his part might provoke a smash. 
 Some of these, or all of these, might be the 
 cause why Sam's face was the only unhappy 
 one on board. 
 
 It may be asked, where was the incom- 
 parable Scruttles — he of the rugged name — 
 but superexcellent nature ? He had been sent 
 to Puff two days before, not only to prepare 
 for their reception but, to unpack and arrange 
 their household matters. 
 
 It was delightful, the idea of being met and 
 welcomed to their island home by so vakied a 
 dependant.
 
 110 LORDS AND LxVDIES. 
 
 And there he was ! 
 
 Whether their imaginations had been unusually 
 stirred by the praises of Captain Crabshawe, 
 and they had each secretly pictured to them- 
 selves their idea of what a model servant 
 ought to be — the first sight of Scruttles dis- 
 pelled them all at once, and for ever. 
 
 Indeed, his personal appearance was of so 
 dubious a character, that the Squire, unaccus- 
 tomed and unable to contain his thoughts, ab- 
 ruptly exclaimed, 
 
 "Where did you pick up your Ticket-of- 
 leave?" 
 
 The question reddened the knob on Captain 
 Crabshawe's face, but the complexion of Scruttles 
 seemed incapable of further suffusion, and his 
 feelings, if he had ever had any, were of that 
 brick-batish order, they could not be hurt. 
 
 "He has been in trouble, certainly — but he 
 is a capital fellow — he has been months camped 
 out in the Bush I"
 
 LORDS AND LADIES. Ill 
 
 *' Ah ! a returned convict !" 
 
 '^ My dear Squire, how inconsiderate you are — 
 you might hurt his f eehngs !" 
 
 " Yours I may, perhaps, so I beg your pardon ; 
 but his — well, you are answerable for him — and 
 we will remember, as no man made himself, so 
 is no man responsible for being more than 
 ordinarily ill-looking. * Handsome is as hand- 
 some does.' A very good motto. But now, 
 hold hard! I don't stir a step until I have 
 had something to drink. Rowing is thirsty 
 work. Sam, hand out the hamper of porter — 
 now the soda-water. We will have a go of 
 shandy-gaff all round." 
 
 It was some time before these hampers could 
 be extracted. When they were pulled out from 
 beneath everything else there was no corkscrew. 
 The Squire, feeling the more thirsty the more 
 obstacles were thrown in his way, which is one 
 of the signs of the active operation of the 
 nerve Opiniatum, settled that question by knock-
 
 112 LORDS AND LADIES. 
 
 ing off the heads of the bottles, which he did 
 just in time to discover there was no ju^. 
 This crisis was met by the activity of Scruttles, 
 who pulled out a bran new kettle by its spout 
 from the crate, and presented it just in 
 time. Finally, there were no tumblers, or any- 
 thing handy out of which to drink. But with 
 the indomitable perseverance of the ancient 
 Briton, tne Squire put his mouth to the spout, 
 and sucked in a gigantic quaff, with exceeding 
 relish and satisfaction. 
 
 They then marched up, laden with packages, 
 to take possession of their palace. They were 
 very well acquainted with its appearance and 
 capabilities, having often visited the island with 
 shooting-parties and pic-nics. 
 
 The house had been originally begun by a 
 sort of adventurer, who, before a lighthouse 
 had been placed on Ribble, gained a liveli- 
 hood by collecting the debris of the numerous 
 wrecks that occurred in the bay, and which
 
 LORDS AND LADIES. 113 
 
 drifted round to Puff, by some peculiarity of 
 the current. 
 
 When his vocation was gone, by the establish- 
 ment of lighthouses and buoys, and other 
 safeguards, Government enlarged the house, and 
 formed it into a sort of shelter for the crews 
 of pilot-boats or fishing-smacks, whose power 
 of returning home was often seriously en- 
 dangered by shore winds, and an inwash of 
 the tide, that as often swept them out to sea 
 again as not. 
 
 But the owner of the islands, having reason 
 to suspect that many took shelter there for no 
 other reason than to shoot rabbits, made Go- 
 vernment build another refuge on Ribble, where 
 the lighthouse was placed. 
 
 He then altered, enlarged, and freshened up 
 the house to its present condition, and let it 
 out, with the rabbit-warren (which had become 
 extremely valuable) to parties of gentlemen, 
 and sometimes to London dealers — the first for 
 
 VOL. I. I
 
 114 LORDS AND LADIES. 
 
 the sake of sporting, tlie second for the value 
 of the rabbits. 
 
 The house consisted of one large hall, with 
 a staircase running up one side, which led to 
 a sleeping chamber. A gallery or staircase out- 
 side led to two more on the other side, and 
 joined on to a series of excavations, made out 
 of the limestone rock. The first of these was a 
 sort of corridor or passage, with large loopholes 
 letting in light and air, but on occasions wind, 
 spray, and rain. This opened into a good-sized 
 room, with handsome windows framed into the 
 rock. It was furnished with a brazier, or 
 basket fire-place, the smoke of which w^ent up 
 through a funnel-shaped opening, down which, 
 in years long gone by, the smugglers let their 
 goods, and hid them in the caverns that now 
 formed chambers. On the other side of this 
 room was the kitchen, the smoke of whose fire 
 went up through the same opening. Beyond the 
 kitchen was still another chamber, and so ex-
 
 LOKDS AND LADIES. 115 
 
 traordinarily soft and pliable was the cliff, tliat 
 it might have been excavated in all directions 
 with very little trouble, and a hundred people 
 live in it, like rabbits in burrows. 
 
 Notwithstanding the disappointment regarding 
 the looks of Scruttles, the Squire had been 
 favourably impressed with his quickness in pro- 
 \ading him wdth the substitute for a jug at 
 an opportune moment. All the way up to the 
 house he argued to himself, 
 
 " Yillainous-looking as the fellow is, he has 
 his wits about him — no doubt we shall find 
 everything most comfortably arranged." 
 
 But the scene that presented itself, when 
 they entered the hall, at first startled them, 
 and then fortunately amused them. They all 
 sat down on any seat they could find, and 
 roared with laughter. 
 
 Their beds w^ere thrown promiscuously any- 
 w^here; a sort of bush encampment was impro- 
 vised round the fire-place ; the chairs and tables 
 
 i2
 
 116 LORDS AND LADIES. 
 
 were all piled away in a corner as lumber, and 
 it appeared to be the prevailing impression 
 of Mr. Scruttles that they were to bivouac, 
 one and all, in this place and none other. 
 Their guns were all put ready for action, while 
 their portmanteaux, desks, boxes, books, and little 
 luxuries, were stowed out of the way in a sort 
 of cellar. 
 
 It required a vast deal of seeking and finding 
 before each had collected his own property. But, 
 lighting the pipes of independence, they each 
 set heartily to work, and if they were as- 
 tonished at the bush arrangements of the 
 "returned convict," nothing could exceed his 
 amazement at the result of their labours. 
 
 He and Sam were hustled off to the kitchen 
 and the small room adjoining, whither they 
 were bid to take their private property and 
 the kitchen utensils, arranging them as they 
 liked best. The hall was soon cleared of beds 
 and bedding, the Squire and Mr. Spooner
 
 LORDS AND LADIES. 117 
 
 agreeing to occupy the large bedroom, Sir 
 George and JMr. Summers the next largest, 
 and Captain Crabshawe was to have a little 
 den to himself. Chairs and tables were placed 
 in the excavated room next to the kitchen, 
 and there they agreed to take all their meals, 
 which would leave the hall always sacred to 
 themselves. 
 
 They were, to use the Squire's expression, 
 " as jolly as sand-boys," though one or two 
 little miffs or scuds of temper flew about, by 
 way of variety. 
 
 Thus Sir George was nettled at the Captain's 
 remarks upon the quantity of his luggage. 
 
 " Are those three portmanteaux yours, Follett ?" 
 asked he. 
 
 '^ Yes, my dear Crab. I have a weakness 
 for shirts. I wear two — sometimes three a 
 day." 
 
 " The deuce you do ! How are they to be 
 washed here, I should like to know? Look at
 
 118 LORDS AND LADIES. 
 
 me — I am hampered with nothing but what I 
 stand in, and the contents of this mere 
 bag." 
 
 It was a mere bag. 
 
 Strange to say, no one complimented 
 the Captain upon the smallness of his lug- 
 
 '^That Sam of yours seems utterly helpless 
 — he thinks of nothing but his pots of black- 
 ing, which are entirely useless here." 
 
 "I should say my servant was quite as good 
 as yours. He has been staring at us the last 
 half hour, when, you would naturally conclude, 
 he ought to be cooking our dinner." 
 
 "By-the-bye, that's well thought on. Crab, 
 what are we to have for dinner?" 
 
 " Anything you like. Squire." 
 
 "Let me advise a cold dinner to-day," said 
 Mr. Spooner. "It is now almost three o'clock, 
 and you know we have a round of beef, 
 Perigord pies, and a ham already cooked."
 
 LORDS AND LADIES. 119 
 
 " Ah ! that was Elizabeth's idea — bringing — " 
 
 " Squire, no woman's name allowed here." 
 
 ^'Well, at all events, let me suggest soup 
 for dinner, and hot potatoes. The rest of it 
 we can very well make out with the cold 
 meat. We have portable soup, haven't we. 
 Spoon ?" 
 
 ^' Yes, we have ; but allow me to remark, 
 I object to my name being shortened." 
 
 "No offence, old fellow. I thought here we 
 were to do just as w^e liked, without tlie 
 chance of affront" 
 
 " You see, my name is such an awkward 
 one, Squire." 
 
 " I don't see that at all ; you w^ouldn't 
 mind my saying Fork, I suppose, presuming 
 your name was Forker?" 
 
 "No, not at all." 
 
 " In fact," whispered Sir George confi- 
 dentially to Frank, " Spoon is a little too a})- 
 propriate to be pleasant."
 
 120 LORDS AND LADIES. 
 
 "Humph!" answered Frank, which was no 
 doubt an intelhgible reply to Sir George. 
 " Now, whose books are these ?" he asked 
 aloud. 
 
 "They are mine," answered the Captain, not 
 without a regular feminine smirk of satisfaction. 
 
 "You have rather an odd assortment. 
 ^ Paley's Evidences,' ^ Bailey's Turf Guide,' 
 ^The Protoplast,' * The Complete Grazier,' 
 ' Ephemera.' " 
 
 As he read the names aloud most of his 
 auditors burst out laughing. ^len are many of 
 them incapable of controling their risible faculties; 
 but indulge in them, no matter the result. 
 Now, it must be conceded that the other sex 
 have infinite tact on such occasions. Their 
 kindness of heart is such, that they will hear 
 the most absurd mistake, witness the most 
 ridiculous sight, and do both without moving 
 a muscle of their countenance. Whereas our 
 Puffites laughed — and laughed all the louder,
 
 LORDS AND LADIES. 121 
 
 when they perceived their captain, their king, 
 looking much nettled. 
 
 In fact, it was pretty well known amongst 
 his friends that Captain Crabshawe was by no 
 means a literary fellow; but having that sort 
 of disposition that made him desirous of the 
 character of excellency in everything, he had 
 selected his library more to sustain a learned 
 reputation than for absolute use. 
 
 In the ordinary intercourse of life, his friends 
 were conscious that he often made dashes at 
 hard words, and as often failed to achieve 
 the feat of pronouncing them correctly. And in 
 the matter of spelling, he had been heard to 
 say, to do so by rule, and according to John- 
 son, was a mere matter of taste. 
 
 Seeing him about to burst forth in angry 
 invectives — for the Captain had so much of 
 a feminine nature in him as to be ready to 
 retort on the least provocation — the amiable 
 Frank said —
 
 122 LORDS AND LADIES. 
 
 "Come, Squire, I have done all I can, 
 shall we go to the highest part of the island 
 and take an observation f ' 
 
 " Hah ! only to see after that flag I saw 
 you give the ladies," quoth the Captain, deter- 
 mined to have his wrath out somehow. '' I 
 hardly think it is hoisted yet. I am not too 
 much impressed with the amount of wisdom 
 ladies can stow away in their empty heads, 
 but I will do them this justice — that flag is still 
 in its case." 
 
 "So I should hope," answered Summers, 
 politely ; " at the same time, I mean to find 
 out on Puff the most eligible point for seeing 
 Luff before I sleep to-night." 
 
 "That is very good-natured of you, Frank, 
 considering all things," remarked Sir George. 
 
 "I don't know anything about the good- 
 nature ; wdien a man pleases himself, he is 
 usually styled selfish, and not good-natured." 
 
 " Whether selfish or good-natured, I gi^e
 
 LORDS AlfB LADIES. 123 
 
 you all clue notice, I do not intend to pay 
 the least attention to that flag. We came 
 here to be entirely free from the whims, weak- 
 nesses, and wickednesses " 
 
 "Come, come. Crab, no vilifying of the ab- 
 sent. There are enough of us, without out- 
 raging your feelings, to go to the ladies' as- 
 sistance when they signal for us. Meantime, 
 Squire, I will accompany you and Frank over 
 the island. I have ordered the dinner." 
 
 Some mumbling words from Captain Crab- 
 shawe about everybody ordering everything 
 without reference to him, were unnoticed by 
 the gentlemen, who, relighting their pipes of 
 independence, started off on their expedition. 
 They were soon followed by the Captain, who 
 arrived in time to hear Sir George say, 
 
 "Sam is positively afraid to be alone 
 with him — he is a murderer! — an escaped con- 
 vict ! " 
 
 "He is no such thing, Follett," interrupted
 
 124 LORDS AND LADIES. 
 
 the Captain ; " he has been In trouble, as I 
 said before — a simple case of poachino; " 
 
 "And killing a gamekeeper?" suggested the 
 Squire. 
 
 " Not at all ; I never heard of his killing 
 any one. He was transported, certainly, and 
 he has now come home on leave " 
 
 "Just as I said," again interrupted the Squire; 
 "a Ticket -of-leave!" 
 
 " Upon my word, Squire, there isn't a hope 
 of getting a single sentence finished when you 
 are by." 
 
 " I beg your pardon. Crab — go on, I will 
 listen like a block." 
 
 " Well, Scruttles, but for this one misfor- 
 tune, bears an excellent character. I believe 
 his story is quite a romance. He is an excel- 
 lent fellow — really a first-rate fellow !" 
 
 The Captain was suffered to go on reiterat- 
 ing these praises without an interruption ; but 
 finding he had really nothing more to say,
 
 LORDS AND LADIES. 125 
 
 Frank Summers announced "that here, and 
 here only, should he plant a staff of observa- 
 tion," 
 
 The gentlemen proceeded to use their eyes, 
 instead of their tongues, and took a good 
 survey of the scene around and about them. 
 They were on the highest part of the island. 
 By turning round, they could view the whole 
 of their little kingdom, surrounded by its white 
 fringe of waves bordering the deep blue mantle 
 of the sea. 
 
 There was no lack of life, for flights of 
 sea-birds were off on their afternoon repast, 
 wheeling round and round, and each uttering 
 its discordant cries, as if to announce to 
 each other the intrusion of stranfjers. Some 
 bolder than the rest, made off in sinMe flia'hts, 
 and flew high over the light feathery smoke 
 that now began to issue from the palace of 
 the Puffs. As if to confirm their suspicions, 
 these flew back in swift and steady flight to
 
 126 LORDS AND LADIES. 
 
 their different flocks, when the whole alighted 
 on some prominent rock, and appeared to hold 
 a solemn assembly. 
 
 What they discussed, the plans they organ- 
 ized, the speeches they made, of course can 
 only be known to those conversant with bird 
 language and habits. But it is not unlikely 
 their parliament ended much as human par- 
 liaments; for, after a vast deal of commotion 
 and noise, hunger seemed to gain the day. 
 Slowly, and by degrees, they all soon dis- 
 persed to their feeding-ground, and the pre- 
 sence of intruding strangers seemed utterly 
 forgotten. 
 
 But they were not the only living things. 
 From out of tufts of grass, from behind 
 stones, from underneath a plume of ferns, 
 out of little sandy holes, came innumerable 
 rabbits, among which ran the pretty peewits, 
 like little ladies, with their skirts tucked up. 
 Bright-eyed dotterels sat on tufts of the
 
 LORDS AND LADIES. 127 
 
 coarse grass ; and the whole island was moving 
 with life and beauty. 
 
 It was impossible to resist the impression 
 of the scene, or the serenity and happiness 
 that filled their minds as they looked around, 
 and saw themselves shut off, as it were, from 
 all the conventionalities of every-day life. A 
 perception of their freedom from all the ties 
 of society, of the healthful, careless life they 
 might now lead, and the relaxation from usual 
 habits, and common cares, were enjoyable enough, 
 without the loveliness of everything around 
 them. 
 
 The Squire could see his beautiful home, 
 embowered in shrubs and woods, and yet not 
 regret his absence from its luxuries. 
 
 Sir George, for the first time, was impressed 
 with a wonder of, and admiration for, nature — 
 the perception causing a glow of feeling in his 
 heart, as fresh and pure as the sea-breeze cool- 
 ing his cheek.
 
 128 LOKDS AND LADIES. 
 
 Both Mr. Spooner and Frank had turned 
 towards the other islands, and watched with 
 intense and delighted interest a little puff of 
 smoke suddenly rising out of the wood-sheltered 
 house on Luff; this soon began to rise in 
 columns of rolling, unfolding, circling vapour, 
 which, inflating and swelling, were caught by 
 flying zephyrs. These bore them away in little 
 fleecy clouds, as if to curtain heaven anew, 
 but, alas ! of earthly birth, they knew their 
 unworthiness, and died of shame by the 
 way. 
 
 " They are there !" whispered the one to the 
 other. 
 
 Mr. Spooner' s face bore the expression his 
 friends remembered to have seen in his bridal 
 days — his heart was soft towards his Arabella. 
 And in whatever manner the owner of the 
 brown hat, bordered by the blue veil, had com- 
 ported herself towards Mr. Summers, that gentle- 
 man bore no malice in his heart against her,
 
 LORDS AND LADIES. 129 
 
 now that three miles of water were between 
 him and her — temper. 
 
 Captain Crabshowe was alone unmoved by 
 the soft beauty of the evening shadows, by the 
 calm loveliness of everything around him. He 
 was taking imaginary shots in his mind at the 
 birds and rabbits, and congratulating himself 
 secretly that he was about saving board and 
 lodging for a month. For though all had con- 
 tributed towards the expenses of their expedi- 
 tion, his share had dwindled down, through the 
 lavishness of the others, into nothing. He was 
 to be comfortably lodged, royally fed, and highly 
 amused — and all for nothing. A mode of pay- 
 ment which exactly suited his ideas. 
 
 Thus they all sat, " conversing with their own 
 thoughts," for nearly an hour 
 
 At last the Squire, who had made the nearest 
 approach to a romantic state of mind that ever 
 occurred to him in his life, heaved a sort of 
 sigh of happiness. 
 
 VOL. I. K
 
 130 LORDS AND LADIES. 
 
 " All ! yes," he mused aloud, " that is Luff ; 
 Elizabeth is there, and no doubt making her- 
 self extremely comfortable." 
 
 " Had not you better all invoke your loves ?" 
 said the Captain, ironically. " The Squire has 
 set you a good example." 
 
 Mr. Joscelyn winced, but carried off his 
 discomfiture by exclaiming, 
 
 ^' Come, I have sat until I am chilled. I 
 mean to go round our dominions at a brisk 
 pace, and then home to dinner." 
 
 When they returned from their walk, the 
 Squire went up to his room gaily carolling, his 
 appetite in that happy state he could devour 
 a horse. 
 
 Captain Crabshawe turned into the kitchen to 
 see after his " excellent convict." Sir George 
 called aloud for Sam, while Mr. Spoon er and 
 Mr. Summers inspected the arrangements for 
 dinner. 
 
 Evidently the " excellent convict " had laid
 
 LORDS AND LADIES. 131 
 
 the cloth accordmg to the rules of Bush life. 
 In the centre of the table were the knives and 
 forks, laid straight, but all together. Some 
 rough salt in a tea-cup, a few spoons and two 
 beer horns, completed the picture. But that 
 was not all. 
 
 ^* Spooner, look here ! I declare it is — it 
 must be a sheet — it is my sheet — here is my 
 name, marked by my mother! Have we no 
 table-cloths, that one of my sheets is used for 
 us to dine on?" 
 
 A hue-and-cry for Scruttles. Scruttles was 
 at that tickhsh part of his cooking when the 
 portable soup was on the boil. Even when 
 he did come, the "excellent convict" by no 
 means entered into the feehngs of the gentle- 
 men regarding Mr. Summers's sheet. 
 
 " Sara wor a-busy a-settling Sir Folly's 
 baggidge, and bid I lay a cloth. And I took 
 the first to hand ; and as for a sheet, may- 
 bees it's a sheet, but wot odds, so it wor 
 
 e2
 
 132 LORDS AND LADIES. 
 
 summat of a cloth, if gentlefolks wud have a 
 cloth — but for my part, I'd as lief not be 
 fashed wi' un." 
 
 "Fashed or no, go and bring a table- 
 cloth." 
 
 " Pooh, pooh, Frank !" interrupted the Captain, 
 now joining them. "There is no time to lay 
 the dinner-table again." 
 
 " If you called that table laid, there is — for 
 my part, time must be found — if I do it myself." 
 
 •Feeling greatly for Summers's awkward posi- 
 tion, Spooner offered to help, and together 
 they laid the table in first-rate style, calling 
 Scruttles, now in a second crisis of the soup 
 boiling up, to come and take a lesson as to 
 how a table should be laid for gentlemen to 
 dine on. 
 
 " Gude sakes ! to think o' taikinc; a' thon 
 pains to put a bit victual in one's mooth!" 
 was all the "excellent convict" remarked. 
 
 Meantime the Squire made his appearance,
 
 LORDS AND LADIES. 133 
 
 looking as fresh and debonnaire as if he was 
 about to dine with Her Majesty. His passion 
 for ablutions entitled him to be ranked among 
 the amphibia race. 
 
 "Hullo, Squire, what a swell you are!" 
 exclaimed the Captain, as the two improvised 
 butlers rushed off to perform their toilettes. 
 "Now, I considered that one of the chief plea- 
 sures of coming to the island was a freedom 
 from the bore of dressing, which one is obliged 
 to submit to, owing to female arbitrariness." 
 
 " Humph !" answered the Squire, " I have a 
 certain respect for a fellow called Jack Joscelyn, 
 and I always pay him the compliment of a 
 clean shirt, hands, and face, even when he 
 and I dine alone." 
 
 " Gracious heavens !" shouted Mr. Spooner, 
 out of the little window of the becb'oom he 
 shared with the Squire, "this room, our room, 
 is swimming in water — everything splashed in 
 every direction !"
 
 134 LOEDS AND LADIES. 
 
 "I thought it was a confounded small place 
 to wash in — I must take to the sea, I sup- 
 pose. Ha! here is the soup — steaming hot, too! 
 — make haste, my boys !" 
 
 "Ay, he be hot, he have biled up twice, 
 yer honour." 
 
 " Twice !" echoed the Squire, looking dubious. 
 
 He lifted up the lid to see what might be 
 the probable effects of two boilings — if any- 
 thing strange. There was! On the top of the 
 soup floated various matters, giving it the 
 same appearance as the surface of a pond on 
 a thrashing day. 
 
 "Crab, come here!" shouted the Squire ; "can 
 this be the effect of double boiling?" 
 
 "I suppose so — it smells good." 
 
 The face of Scruttles underwent different 
 phases of ugliness as he anxiously regarded 
 them. He tried to look pleased, but he only 
 seemed a greater convict than ever, as the 
 Squire put on the lid again, and sat down.
 
 LOKDS AND LADIES. 135 
 
 The Squire said "grace," we presume under 
 the idea it would hasten his companions; the 
 Squire altered the position of the decanters 
 on the table; he played with his knife and 
 fork ; he cut a bit out of his bread and ate 
 it. 
 
 The Squire again raised the lid of the soup 
 tureen. What had been floating about in 
 various particles before was now settled down, 
 into a sort of repulsive crust. 
 
 "Shall I giv her another bile," suggested 
 Scruttles, who now looked so hideous, a prey 
 to the deepest, most perspiring anxiety, that 
 the Squire stared at him in amazement at the 
 sight. But, as before stated, being of a just 
 nature, he could not but appreciate the " ex- 
 cellent convict's" ardent solicitude to please. 
 
 "Poor beast," soliloquised the Squire, "he 
 does his best. Was he born so ? or was it 
 accident? What can he have done with the 
 rest of his nose ? and how comes one eye to be so
 
 136 LORDS AND LADIES 
 
 much higher in his face than the other. How 
 hot he is, poor wretch ! Well, when I see a 
 man anxious to please, striving to do his best, 
 I endeavour to think nothing of his personal 
 appearance, but — hullo! here they are! Come 
 along, my fine fellows! Sit down — do. I have 
 said ' grace. ' Who's for soup ? — it smells good." 
 The first spoonful explained its strange ap- 
 pearance, and sent all but Captain Crabshawe 
 spluttering out of the room. The *' excellent 
 convict" had not considered it necessary to 
 wash out the new saucepan before he used it, 
 consequently the prevailing taste of the twice 
 boiled portable soup was that of sawdust and 
 straw. But the potatoes were excellent, the 
 round of beef super-excellent; the Squire, as 
 he expressed it, dined royally; he flirted from 
 beef to pie, from pie to ham, and completed 
 his dinner with a junk of double Gloucester 
 cheese that would have sufficed for a labom*er's 
 dinner.
 
 LORDS AND LADIES. 137 
 
 'Tis true, they had all to wait a good deal 
 upon themselves. Sam appeared to see per- 
 fectly well what his master required, but no 
 one else; and all that Scruttles was able to 
 do in the waiting line, was to stand and 
 stare in amazement at the way in which 
 " quality " dined. 
 
 With hearts brimful of satisfied happiness, 
 no sooner was the cloth removed, than siniul- 
 taneously they lit the pipes of freedom and 
 delight, and vigorously puffed away for an 
 hour, in token of their emancipation from cur- 
 tains and woman's whims. 
 
 At the end of that time, the Squire's diges- 
 tion, disordered as he said by the spoonful of 
 soup that had inadvertently got down his throat, 
 before he was aware of its peculiar compo- 
 sition — or, as we say, by unlimited smoking — 
 loudly demanded a corrective. 
 
 " Can your crack convict make us a cup 
 of coffee, Crabshawef
 
 138 LORDS AND LADIES. 
 
 " Of course. Here, Scruttles, send In coffee.'* 
 
 When Sam brought it in, all eyes were turned 
 thereon ; it looked good, dark, clear, bright 
 — it also smelt good, and thoroughly like 
 coffee. 
 
 Fearlessly the Squire took a good gulp, 
 then he made one rush, followed by Sir 
 George and Spooner, equally affected. 
 
 They were all heard spluttering, coughing, 
 and choking outside. 
 
 Captain Crabshawe, nettled to such a degree 
 that the knob on his face resembled a live 
 coal, calmly sipped away, as if his coffee were 
 delicious. 
 
 Mr. Summers cogitated over his, tasting it 
 deliberately. Then he arose, and went out to 
 reassure his friends. 
 
 "Don't be alarmed — you are not poisoned. 
 You have only got the remains of the Squire's 
 shandygaff mixed with your coffee. It had 
 been left, I presume, in the tea-kettle."
 
 LORDS AND LADIES. 139 
 
 The Squire's digestion was nevertheless still so 
 disordered, as to prevent him from thoroughly 
 appreciating the satisfaction of not being poi- 
 soned; and as the only solace left him, he 
 took up his candle and went to bed. The 
 others sat down to more pipes and whist. 
 
 But not long did they play or smoke in 
 peace. From out of the bed-chamber of the 
 Squire, preceded by a few preliminary snorts, 
 there issued a clang and clamour of sound 
 that startled them all. A deep sepulchral 
 groan was followed by a strangled shriek ; 
 a suffocated roar gave place to an explosive 
 howl. To suppose that these sounds w^ere hu- 
 man, that they proceeded from one mouth, was 
 impossible. 
 
 The amiable Frank sprang up, and rushed 
 six steps at a time to the rescue ; Mr. Spooner 
 followed, armed with the poker; Sir George 
 seized a gun from the wall; Captain Crab- 
 shawe grasped his cards like grim death (he
 
 140 LORDS AND LADIES. 
 
 had three honours among them), and looked 
 round indignant — yet afraid. 
 
 The two reached the Squire's room in a trice, 
 expecting to find him struggling with some 
 sea-monster in a deadly contest. But he was 
 alone, and, as they rushed in, he opened one 
 merry blue eye and said, 
 
 " Hullo, Spoon ! coming to bed, eh ?" 
 
 "My dear Squire — Mr. Joscelyn, we heard 
 the most fearful sounds — the most awful noise 
 from this room! Are you ill?" 
 
 "111! no. Noise! nothing of the kind. I 
 haven't been to sleep yet. Good night — Frank 
 — Spoo?" 
 
 His eyes closed, his mouth opened, his great 
 chest heaved with such a mighty breath of wind, 
 no wonder there was a struggle to get it out. 
 Then it came with a rush, a roar, a moan, 
 a groan ! 
 
 "Mr. Joscelyn, arouse yourself! You must 
 be ill— in a fit !"
 
 LORDS AND LADIES. 141 
 
 '^ Hullo ! can't you let a man sleep quietly. 
 I believe I snore a little — at least, Elizabeth 
 says " 
 
 And again his eyes closed ; again he strug- 
 gled, roared, groaned. They watched him for 
 some time, and perceiving that there really was 
 nothing the matter with him, that he was, in 
 fact, in an unconscious state of bhss, they 
 left him and returned to their game. 
 
 The Captain still grasped his three honours. 
 Sir George still shouldered his gun. But re- 
 assured, they began to play. 
 
 "Can nothing be done to stop that noise?" 
 exclaimed the Captain, as he trumped his 
 partner's trick with one of his honours, thougli 
 he had the two of trumps handy — had any 
 trump been needed. 
 
 "We shall not be able to sleep all night," 
 said the Captain. 
 
 " I share his room I" murmured Mr. Spooner ; 
 " it is like a discharge of cracked artillery !"
 
 142 LORDS AND LADIES. 
 
 " I find it In my heart, for the first time, 
 to pity a woman. When can Mrs. Joscelyn 
 have got her rest?" 
 
 " She does not seem to suffer. Crab, judging 
 by her looks." 
 
 "She doesn't. Summers — there you are right. 
 I don't mind acknowledging that, for a woman, 
 Mrs. Joscelyn is not wdiolly detestable." 
 
 "You have not thought very ill of Miss 
 Daintree, lately, Crabshawe, judging by the 
 manner in w^hich you have been flirting w^itli 
 her the last few days." 
 
 " Ha ! ha !" (aloud) "he's jealous !" (to himself). 
 "Well, she isn't a bad sort of girl, as girls 
 go. I am not a marrying man, as all the 
 world knows — and I sincerely hope she does 
 also. But 'tis different with you, FoUett. Your 
 situation is such that you are bound to marry 
 — poor unfortunate fellow! And so this I w^ill 
 say, as you must marry, why, choose little Kate, 
 and you won't go far wrong."
 
 LOEDS AND LADIES. 143 
 
 (Why did not Mr. Summers rise and pro- 
 test, as he had done in the case of Miss 
 Severn, against the impropriety of familiarly 
 naming a lady without her proper title? Sir 
 George perhaps did not give him time, for 
 he answered hotly) — 
 
 "Thank you for nothing! I may marry, 
 and I mayn't; but at all events, I shall marry 
 whom I please, without consulting Captain 
 Crabshawe !" 
 
 "I daresay you will; but let me tell you, 
 you are a young fellow that wants advice ; 
 and knowing that, I give it to you, and it 
 is, marry Miss Daintree, and you will have 
 as good a wife as circumstances will permit." 
 
 '^That is poor praise, Crabshawe," interrupted 
 Mr. Spooner. 
 
 " Miss Daintree is scarcely so pretty as charm- 
 ing !" said Frank. 
 
 '^ Come, come, I don't want to quarrel with 
 you all!"
 
 144 LORDS AND LADIES. 
 
 " You will do so, sir, if you thrust your 
 advice on people who don't want it — who 
 despise it!" 
 
 ^'We win the rubber," interrupted Frank, 
 hoping to stem the tide now surging between 
 these two Puffites ; "" a treble, a single, and 
 the rub." 
 
 " People always despise what they mostly re- 
 quire," retorted the Captain. 
 
 " Come, come," interposed Mr. Spooner, " don't 
 say any more that it requires feminine tongues 
 to provoke a wrangle. Shake hands, and let 
 us go to bed." 
 
 His mediation was as useless as Frank's. 
 So, taking advantage of a calm in the Squire's 
 lullaby, he went off to bed. 
 
 Summers took a few turns up and down 
 the open corridor, from whence he could see 
 the Island of . Luff, peacefully slumbering in 
 the translucent embrace of a moonbeam. 
 
 How the Captain and Sir George ended
 
 LOEDS AND LADIES. 145 
 
 their dispute is not known, and appears not 
 to have been of sufficient importance to 
 record. 
 
 It seemed, however, to have awakened in 
 the frame of Sir George the nerve Opiniatum ; 
 for he never lost an opportunity of reflecting 
 upon the merits of ISliss Daintree, whenever 
 her name was mentioned; though secretly all 
 the while, as you and I know, dear reader, 
 he was mightily enamoured of her. Captain 
 Crabshawe is by no means the first person 
 who has spoiled a match by talking of it 
 beforehand. 
 
 Human nature is very weak, of which we 
 have already recorded one or two instances. 
 But in the matter of giving and receiving 
 advice, it is more puerile and pig-headed than 
 under any other circumstances. 
 
 One more day at Puff, when we will leave 
 their manly, jovial company, and proceed to 
 visit the meeker, milder society of the ladies. 
 
 VOL. I. L
 
 146 LORDS AND LADIES. 
 
 The Squire, intent only upon getting to bed, 
 and unable to suppose there was anything 
 against so simple a measure, had not ob- 
 served that there were no sheets on his couch. 
 He snoozed away comfortably all the night 
 between the blankets. Captain Crabshawe was 
 personally indifferent as to sheets, so did with- 
 out. Sam made his master's bed with infinite 
 labour, assisted by Mr. Spooner and Mr. 
 Summers, and assisting them in return. 
 
 So the Puffites reposed peacefully, the first 
 night of their liberty in their kingdom of 
 Puff. 
 
 By daybreak the Squire awoke, like a giant 
 refreshed, and, with towel in hand, gaily 
 carolled down to the beach. Once in the sea, 
 he took advantage of unlimited space and 
 inexhaustible water, to disport himself after the 
 manner of a lively and white-skinned hippo- 
 potamus. 
 
 This employment sent him up to the
 
 LORDS AND LADIES. 147 
 
 "Palace of Freedom," "hungry as a work- 
 house-boy," to use his own expression. His 
 great heart failed him, as, arriving, he looked 
 around and saw not only an entire absence of 
 anything like preparations for breakfast, but 
 everything in exactly the same state of dis- 
 order as when he went to bed. Dirty plates, 
 the abominable coffee, unwashed wine glasses, 
 ashes of tobacco, cups and saucers, all strewn 
 about — and not a soul stirring ! 
 
 The Squire, incapable of doing any deed 
 quietly, generally apportioning his strength by 
 the barometer of his feelings, split the door 
 open into the kitchen, and extracted from 
 their sleeping quarters Scruttles — who looked 
 more hideous than ever asleep — with one hand, 
 and Sam with the other. 
 
 Setting them a noble example of activity, 
 he was not long ere he had effected a won- 
 derful change for the better in all the ar- 
 rangements. 
 
 l2
 
 148 LORDS AND LADIES. 
 
 Even Sam preferred exerting himself to 
 being kicked; and Scruttles, as we have seen, 
 was only too anxious to please. 
 
 Breakfast was laid in an efficient and 
 masterly manner ; the kettle was boiling in 
 first-rate style ; slices of ham were all cut 
 ready to broil ; and at the end of an hour, 
 hot, thirsty, but highly pleased with himself, 
 the Squire sat down to survey his work. 
 
 Of course he had made a prodigious noise 
 about it, and his companions, finding it impos- 
 sible to sleep, made a virtue of necessity, and 
 turned out. 
 
 Just as the Squire sat down and was 
 wiping his brows, Spooner appeared, towel in 
 hand. 
 
 " Ah ! Spooner, I'll accompany you, and 
 have another dip in the sea. I shall eat my 
 thumbs if I stay here any longer waiting 
 breakfast." 
 
 As they returned from their bath they were
 
 LORDS AND LADIES. 149 
 
 gratified bj seeing Frank pouring out the tea. 
 An amiable odour of fried ham permeated 
 the balmy air; and, for want of something 
 better, a lot of steaming eggs jostled each 
 other in snowy contour in the slop-basin. 
 It was a luxurious, a delicious breakfast. 
 
 The Squire called for dish after dish of 
 broiled ham, and "brochured" the teapot twice 
 — feats that excited the admiration of his 
 companions, to say nothing of their satisfac- 
 tion. For the Squire in good humour, and the 
 Squire in the dumps, made as much difference 
 in their comfort as we are taught there exists 
 in two other worlds — those placed above and 
 below this terrestrial globe. 
 
 Leaving them thus happy, we will unfold 
 the wings of imagination, and fly to the 
 Island of Luff.
 
 150 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 LUFF IT IS. 
 
 If the ladies were not so rampant in spirits 
 as the gentlemen on their departure from 
 civilized life, they were by no means in a 
 melancholy mood. 
 
 That love of change, even adventure, 
 which is the general characteristic of natives 
 of the British Isles, was fully developed in 
 them ; and without any misgivings as to their 
 happiness, they returned the cheers of the 
 gentlemen, with waving of handkerchiefs and 
 cheerful farewells. 
 
 Their boat was, strange to say, less encum-
 
 LORDS AND LADIES. 151 
 
 bered with luggage than that of the gentlemen; 
 but they had two dogs, a kitten, and a canary. 
 
 In the bow of the boat sat one of those 
 sturdy, shiny-faced, active-looking servants that 
 are seldom to be seen now-a-days. A bonnet 
 of portentous size, elaborately decorated wdth ex- 
 traordinary bows of ribbon, adorned her head. 
 A large plaid shawl, of every hue under the 
 sun, was violently pinned across her chest. 
 She had a bandbox in each hand, and one 
 at her feet, tied over with a coloured cotton 
 handkerchief. 
 
 If there was any lurching of the boat, an\ 
 up-and-down movement, she grasped her two 
 boxes tighter, and looked at the one at her 
 feet, as if she must take it in her teeth. 
 Evidently Susan had made up her mind to 
 follow her mistress to the world's end, to share 
 her dangers, and accept the same fate. But 
 she must have her three band-boxes with her, 
 even if that fate was drowning.
 
 152 LORDS AND LADIES. 
 
 They had a long pull to their island, and, 
 as is the fashion of ladies, they imagined 
 their boatmen must be dying of fatigue, and 
 so called on them to rest every now and then. 
 
 A slight ground swell rendered these stop- 
 pages moments of apprehensive misery to one 
 or two. Mrs. Spooner turned white, then green, 
 and then cried, and begged them, in her con- 
 fusion, to put her down somewhere. 
 
 Susan also turned blue and yellow, though 
 still sitting bolt upright, still grasping her two 
 boxes, and keeping an eye on the third. 
 Finally, Susan was, to use her own phrase, 
 "puked," beyond a reprieve, and had to suc- 
 cumb ; and losing her boxes, groaned over 
 the side of the boat, declaring, between whiles, 
 " that she had as lief be dead at once !" 
 
 However, all things, disagreeable and otlier- 
 wise, have an end. The grating of the keel 
 of the boat against the shingly beach of 
 their little kingdom gave them all a thrill of
 
 LORDS AND LADIES. 153 
 
 delight. They jumped on shore with alacrity; 
 the boatmen helped to carry up their things 
 to the house, and receiving each a bottle of 
 beer and some food, they departed, with 
 hearty wishes for the ladies' ha])piness and 
 welfare. 
 
 The house on Luff was merely a shell of 
 a building, fitted up by subscription among the 
 Hampton people, for the use of pic-nic parties. 
 
 When the gentlemen remarked that it was 
 a better house than that on Puff, it certainly 
 was handsomer, more airy, and more gaily 
 decorated. But for useful purposes it w^as very 
 deficient. 
 
 There was one large room, generally called 
 " the ball-room ;" and very large and desolate 
 it looked to our poor Luffites, as they arrived 
 and took possession. Out of the ball-room, by 
 small shabby folding-doors, they entered a lea- 
 room, which was now fitted up as a bed- 
 room for Mrs. Joscelyn and her little daughter
 
 154 LORDS AND LADIES. 
 
 Bessie. At the back of these two rooms was 
 a good-sized kitchen, with a small one adjoin- 
 ing. Over these were two bed-rooms, the ap- 
 proach to which was by a staircase near the 
 kitchen-door. There were no rooms over the 
 saloon and tea-room, they being as lofty as 
 the back of the house. 
 
 Mrs. Joscelyn had herself superintended the 
 cleaning and freshening of the house, and had 
 arranged the bed-rooms. She was the only 
 one who had been to the island since the 
 challenge, but her companions had often visited 
 it on other occasions. Either a sudden con- 
 viction of their lonely condition, or a mis- 
 giving as to the comfort of living in this odd 
 house, began to dawn upon their minds ; but 
 certainly the expression on each face was a 
 little doleful. 
 
 Mrs. Joscelyn alone wore a cheerful aspect. 
 
 " Light every fire at once, Susan," said 
 she; ^'you see they are all laid ready; and
 
 LORDS AND LADIES. 155 
 
 then put the sheets and blankets to air before 
 them. This room I took for Bessie and me, 
 because I thought it best I should be on the 
 ground-floor. Susan also has the inner kitchen 
 for her room, and — come upstairs. Here you 
 see I have had your own beds put, my dears — 
 one on each side of the window. This corner 
 of the room I had screened off with a curtain 
 for your bath-room ; and on this landing, here 
 is another curtain, underneath which you can 
 hang your dresses. This room, Arabella, being 
 the smallest, I have appropriated to your sole 
 use. You sent your Own furniture over, and 
 I have arranged it to the best of my ability; 
 but if you take my advice, you will let us 
 have the cheval glass in the saloon — it will 
 help to fill up the vacant spaces of that deso- 
 late apartment; and your room Avill be much 
 more comfortable without it." 
 
 " I had no idea I was to have this little poky 
 room," answered Mrs. Spooner.
 
 156 LORDS AND LADIES. 
 
 "Would you like to share mine, and I will 
 send Bessie up here?" 
 
 '' No, thank you — not for to-night. I see 
 all my things are unpacked, and nicely ar- 
 ranged. I feel still very poorly, and have not 
 strength to change." 
 
 "I daresay we shall all amuse ourselves by 
 changing our arrangements from time to time. 
 You can try how you like this room for a 
 few nights. But the cheval glass " 
 
 "Oh! yes — take it; but who is to take it 
 downstairs? I must say, Mrs. Joscelyn, I can- 
 not conceive why you did not permit us to 
 bring a proper quantity of servants." 
 
 "My reasons were many. In the first 
 place, servants here would be rather in our 
 way; secondly, they would not have borne 
 the life we must lead, and we should have 
 lost the challenge from their fault, and not 
 our own; thirdly, Susan is a peculiar servant — 
 she has a temper. The only way to keep it
 
 LORDS AND LADIES. 157 
 
 in order is to give her so much to do ; 
 she has not time to think of grievances. 
 Had she a fellow-servant there would be 
 nothing but incessant bickering. As it is, she 
 is rather proud that I have selected her to 
 accompany us. I have so far confided in her 
 as to tell her of the challenge ; and I don't 
 think there is one amongst us more anxious 
 to gain the victory. Are my reasons sufficient 
 for you?" 
 
 "They are unanswerable, I think," said 
 Clara. 
 
 "Clara," thought Mrs. Spooner, "has no 
 right to answer for us all. I was going to 
 say something the same, but now I won't. 
 She is too forward !" 
 
 So the nerve Opiniatum in Mrs. Spooner's 
 head, where it always lived, and never went 
 further, made her say — 
 
 "Not at all. Why are servants to be 
 considered more than ourselves?"
 
 158 LORDS AND LADIES. 
 
 "Fortunately I have still another reason, 
 and that has reference to ourselves only. I 
 argued to myself that if we were going to 
 live here for a month, to make the time 
 pass tolerably we must lead lives wholly dif- 
 ferent from what we did at home. We must 
 have all the excitement that variety gives to 
 make the time go." 
 
 " Oh ! my dear aunt — make the time go ! 
 You don't mean to insinuate w^e shall be dull !" 
 
 "I won't answer for you, Kitten, but I 
 think I shall be dull myself, unless I help 
 Susan to make pies and puddings, dust my 
 own sitting-room, make my own bed, and 
 lead the life of an everlasting sort of pic-nic. 
 I brought no more servants that we might 
 have the enjoyment of being our own." 
 
 ^' A very good idea, Mrs. Joscelyn ; during 
 this month I shall make myself an adept in 
 liouse-cleaning and cooking. As I have heard 
 it said, the more a mistress knows of a
 
 LORDS AND LADIES. 159 
 
 servant's duties, the better she is served." 
 
 " Why, gossip ! gossip ! is this you talldiig 
 of being mistress of an establishment! Ah ! 
 you may blush ! Well, I am supposed to be 
 an innocent little atom of humanity ; but still 
 I am very glad I flirted with Captain Crab- 
 shawe last Wednesday evening, a little before 
 or after ten o'clock, even if he brings me 
 into Court for a breach of promise of mar- 
 riage." 
 
 " You conceited little kitten !" 
 
 " I don't despair of it. I assure you I 
 rather like flirting, I have a little experience 
 in it, and my experience tells me I could 
 soon wheedle Captain Crabshawe out of his 
 heart." 
 
 "If he has one, Kate." 
 
 "That is true, Mrs. Spooner, if, as you 
 say, he has one. I am inclined to think he 
 has, only it has been long locked up in some 
 dusty old corner of his frame, and he has
 
 160 LORDS AXD LADIES. 
 
 forgotten where he put it. Should he chance 
 to find it, what a scrubbing, and brushing, 
 and brightening the poor thing will have to 
 undergo, so long unused !" 
 
 " Arabella," interrupted Mrs. Joscelyn, " here 
 is a cup of hot tea, which will do you good 
 after your voyage. Then I should advise you 
 to lie down for a while, and when you feel 
 quite yourself come downstairs and be sur- 
 prised." 
 
 Which she was. 
 
 No one could have said that the Luffites 
 had any care or dejection or fear in their 
 hearts had they seen them, when Mrs. Spooner 
 joined them again. 
 
 The great empty ball-room was wholly 
 metamorphosed. Large folding screens divided 
 it into two parts, one taking in three windows 
 and the other two. In the small half every- 
 thing was ari'anged as for a dining-room. In 
 the larger, Mrs. Spooner acknowledged she had
 
 LORDS AND LADIES. IGl 
 
 never seen a prettier drawing-room. From 
 whence Mrs. Joscelyn had procured her 
 pretty muslin curtains, her few pictures, 
 amongst them the spirited likenesses of her 
 two boys, her comfortable chairs, sofas, 
 writing-tables, screens, ornamental china, and a 
 hundred other things that added beauty and 
 elegance, as well as a home look to their 
 aforetime dreary abode, no one could tell, for 
 no one had seen their departure or arrival. 
 
 She enjoyed their delight. 
 
 "Where there is a will there is a way," 
 said she ; " though we were banished from male 
 societyj there was no necessity to forget that 
 we were ladies, and so required elegant and 
 pretty things about us. You see your cheval 
 glass, Arabella, is very ornamental — especially 
 now that Clara has hid the frame with mus- 
 lin festoons. Can you suggest anything to 
 improve our drawing-room?" 
 
 Mrs. Spooner thought she could, but at 
 
 VOL. I. M
 
 162 LORDS AND LADIES. 
 
 present what the exact improvement was she 
 was not ]:)repared to say — it would come to her 
 mind by degrees. 
 
 "Very well," said Mrs. Joscelyn, "that is 
 u'hat I like — change of all sorts. Now, suppose, 
 as it is past three o'clock, and we don't dine 
 until five, that we go and survey our do- 
 minions. After to-day, you know, we have 
 agreed to keep early hours — dine at one, 
 tea at seven." 
 
 "Susan says," interrupted Kttle Bessie, all 
 eagerness, " that we must go to the well for 
 w^ater. It is such a ridiculous well, that when 
 the tide is high the water is salt — when it 
 ebbs, then the water is fit for use. So this 
 is just the time." 
 
 The palace of the kingdom of Luff was placed 
 in a small sheltered grove of trees. These trees 
 were but stunted affairs by way of trees. 
 Nevertheless, all bolstered up together, they 
 endeavoured to look imposing ; and but for
 
 LORDS AND LADIES. 163 
 
 an inevitable leaning all one way, which gave 
 them the appearance of a flock of school-boys, 
 half frightened, and half brave, leaning one 
 against the other for boldness and support, 
 they would have done very well. 
 
 As it was, they sheltered the abode of the 
 Luffites from a blusterous and always intruding 
 west wind; and they led, through their slant- 
 ing stems, down to a little glade, out of which 
 sparkled, not one well, as Bessie said, but 
 nine. 'Tis true, all these wells sprung but 
 from' one source, but there were nine distinct 
 mouths to that source, each of which had 
 been provided with a rude but picturesque 
 stone cistern. 
 
 Nothing could be wilder or prettier than the 
 scene. The water was bubbling up Avith an 
 underground murmur that suggested the music 
 of the fairies ; while the three girls, running 
 to and fro, filling their pitchers at different 
 cisterns, and making the dell echo with their 
 
 M 2
 
 164 LORDS AND LADIES. 
 
 merry laughter, caused even Mrs. Spooner to 
 utter aloud her delight. 
 
 She and Mrs. Joscelyn were not permitted 
 by the younger ones to draw the water. 
 They were to sit still and look on, until 
 Susan cried " Enough !" This being said, they 
 all proceeded to walk round their dominions. 
 
 Luff was not more than two miles long, and 
 five round. It was not composed of high 
 cliffs, and hills, and dales, like Puff, but was 
 rather flat. In fact, the house was on the 
 highest part of it. There were several pretty 
 little sheltered coves, delicious little dwellings 
 for mermaids, and in one of them they de- 
 cided to enact the part of sirens, and learn to 
 swim. 
 
 Altogether they found so much to like and 
 admire in their new kingdom, that it wanted 
 only ten minutes to dinner when they reached 
 their palace again. 
 
 "Luckily we need not dress for dinner
 
 LORDS AND LADIES. 165 
 
 Iiere," said Mrs. Spoon er, throwing herself 
 down on an easy chair, and divesting herself 
 of the hat with green ribbons, her gloves and 
 shawl. 
 
 "Do as you please," replied their queen — 
 "I mean to dress. No doubt you will find 
 Susan has taken hot water to your room." 
 
 This hint was of the broadest order. Mrs. 
 Spooner, looking cross, slowly rose, and went 
 to her room. She had scarcely reached it when 
 Bessie followed her, carrying her hat, shawl, 
 and gloves, that she had left behind. 
 
 " A forfeit," said Bessie, smiling, " to all 
 those who make a mess of the drawing-room !" 
 
 " Pooh ! pooh ! child — tell your mother I can't 
 be bored by such things!" 
 
 " I will be your maid, then," said Bessie ; 
 "I will just run and get myself ready for 
 dinner, and be back again in no time." 
 
 And the pretty smiling child was as good 
 as her word, but the dinner gong sounded be-
 
 166 LORDS AND LADIES. 
 
 fore Mrs. Spooner had done more than change 
 her shoes. 
 
 "Please, ma'am/' said Bessie, mimicking 
 Susan, "I must run down and obey the 
 gong." 
 
 "No, Bessie, don't go. How could they 
 have dinner without asking if I was ready?" 
 
 "I must go, Mrs. Spooner, or mamma will 
 be displeased." 
 
 "Then be so good as to say I won't have 
 any dinner at all, unless I am w^aited for as 
 I ought to be." 
 
 " Come down as you are — that is best. Let 
 us all dine together the first day," pleaded 
 
 Mrs. Spooner silently acquiesced in this ad- 
 vice, and was so far mollified on perceiving 
 she was waited for (as the dinner was already 
 on the table, without any of them sitting down 
 to it), that she murmured a sort of apology. 
 
 Still more did she feel she was in the
 
 LOKDS AND LADIES. 167 
 
 wrong when she gazed around and saw them 
 all looking so fresh and pretty in their muslin 
 dresses, donned as they were in such haste. 
 
 Mrs. Joscelyn was at that beautiful age of 
 beautiful English womanhood — thirty-two. Her 
 dress, of blue muslin, was fastened at the 
 throat with a bow of blue ribbon, and a sash 
 of the same colour was w^ound round her 
 waist and tied with a large bow. A blue 
 ribbon confined her hair. What with the 
 bloom on her cheeks caused by her walk, or 
 the haste with she had dressed, Mrs. Spooner 
 thought she had never seen her look so hand- 
 some. 
 
 There was also in her countenance a spirit 
 and decision that said as plain as words could 
 say, 
 
 " There are certain rules I mean to maintain 
 here, which are for our happiness and com- 
 fort. I would rather lose the challenge tliaii 
 forego them."
 
 168 LORDS AND LADIES. 
 
 Mrs. Spooner came to the conclusion, before 
 dinner was over, that she would obey. Never- 
 theless, she would have a little revenge first — 
 or rather, she would show a little spirit, too. 
 
 '^ Clara," she began after dinner, " I want 
 the flag." 
 
 "What forf asked Clara. 
 
 "I want to summon Augustus. I forgot 
 to tell him to wear his flannel waistcoats." 
 
 "I heard you tell him that just before he 
 left." 
 
 " Then not to wet his feet." 
 
 "He may wet his feet a dozen times over 
 before I will incur the risk of losing our 
 challenge." 
 
 " Oh ! Clara, how unkind ! Is she not un- 
 kind, Mrs. Joscelynf 
 
 " Don't you think your husband will con- 
 sider you the most unkind to summon him over 
 here at this time of tlie evening, merely to tell 
 him what his own sense will probably suggest ? "
 
 LORDS AND LADIES. 169 
 
 '^Tme. I did not think of that. But 
 suppose we desire to hoist the flag — where can 
 we do sof 
 
 "Mr. Summers showed me how to do it, 
 and said we should find a flag-staff running 
 up by one of the trees nearest the house." 
 
 "We will go and look for it after dinner," 
 said Mrs. Joscelyn. 
 
 Those people have the truest tact who fight 
 with the weapons of their adversary. 
 
 ]Mrs. Spooner did not allude to the flag 
 again, and ran up, when dinner was over, to 
 dress, assisted by Bessie. 
 
 The dinner ought to be described, as that 
 at Puff has been given. 
 
 The ladies had no soup. It is fair to 
 presume that if they had brought with them 
 portable soup Susan would have taken care to 
 wash out the saucepan before it was used. 
 
 The dinner consisted of two fowls, roasted 
 to that nicety for which Susan was famous.
 
 I70l LORDS AND L.VDIES. 
 
 Little sippets of bacon adorned them. The 
 bread sauce was excellent, slightly flavoured 
 with mushroom powder. They had also a 
 beef -steak, very hot, just lightly flicked over 
 with milk-white shavings of horse-radish, and 
 barred across with marks of the gridiron. Po- 
 tatoes delicately browned under the roasting 
 fowls, and a dish of artichokes. 
 
 An omelette soufllee, flavoured and impreg- 
 nated with apricot jam, finished the repast. 
 Its appearance gave high satisfaction, not only 
 because it was a dish of ravishing nature, but 
 it was a mark of Susan's entire contentment and 
 peace of mind. She only favoured the world 
 with it on great and solemn occasions, when 
 she was satisfied with all and everything round 
 and about her. 
 
 "Really, Susan," said her mistress, "you 
 never made a better one — or one more beauti- 
 ful to look at. How it would have delighted 
 your master!"
 
 LORDS AND LADIES. 171 
 
 "It's the oven, mum," answered Susan ; "and 
 nobody to worrit one. I had my thowts of 
 the oven the moment I clapped eyes on 'em, 
 mum. And it haven't deceived me no ways. 
 There's a power o' difference of ovens, mum ; 
 some on 'em is as senseless as a new-born 
 babby, and t'others is as fractious as if cutting 
 their teeth. And I mind an oven as I once 
 hed to cook wi', and ye wad most hae thowt 
 it wor a Chreestian, it wor that humoursome. 
 Hoosumdever, I mastered him. Purty things, 
 thou'st cum tye, Suesen, says I, if thou lets an 
 oven be masterful owre ye!" 
 
 It was not often that Susan spoke in the 
 company of what she was pleased to term 
 " her betters." 
 
 But as her tongue kept up a clatter like a 
 mill-wheel at home, and she had no one on 
 whom to exercise its power in the kitchen at 
 Luff, she was fain to keep it in use by talk- 
 ing to the ladies.
 
 172 LORDS AND LADIES. 
 
 The ladies having dined, and, as we have 
 seen, fared sumptuously, the two young ladies 
 and Bessie assisted Susan to clear away. Miss 
 Severn undertook the care of the silver, and 
 Miss Daintree of the china and glass, while 
 Bessie dubbed herself mistress of the napery 
 department. The two elder ladies took a stroll, 
 and found the flag-staff described by Mr. 
 Summers. 
 
 As soon as she saw it, Mrs. Spooner apos- 
 trophized it: 
 
 " Ah ! there you are ; but never — never shall 
 you be used by me — flag-staff! If Augustus 
 elects a Captain Crabshawe as his companion 
 and friend in preference to his wife, he may 
 do so. I have my thoughts about it, but I 
 will reserve them until we meet. My pride 
 is too great for remonstrance now — but we 
 shall see !" 
 
 "I don't think pride is of much use 
 between a husband and wife, Arabella. Au-
 
 LORDS AND LADIES. 173 
 
 gustus wished to show his independence, and 
 made use of the subterfuge of desiring an 
 unlimited area for the purpose of smoking. 
 You don't care how much he shows his inde- 
 pendence, provided it is only show; while 
 permission to smoke for ever will probably 
 cure him of smoking at all — but not if you 
 continue to chafe about it." 
 
 " Submit, and say nothing ! Oh ! Mrs. 
 Joscelyn, it is not in human nature to do 
 it!" 
 
 " I don't wish to force my advice upon you, 
 but I certainly intend to be forbearing and 
 merciful when the trial is over. I cannot 
 imagine for one moment that they will remain 
 quiet a whole month, with no other society 
 than their own. In the first place, Captain 
 Crabshawe is in temper as fretful as any baby, 
 as pettish as any woman, and will resent the 
 most trifling affront, until he tires out the 
 best temper among them. And there is nothing
 
 174 LORDS AND LADIES. 
 
 in his character that will make it a gratifi- 
 cation to bear with his peevishness rather than 
 forego his company. He is neither clever, nor 
 agreeable, nor good-natured. To live a whole 
 month with such a man will send my husband 
 home meek as a mouse, that is, if he does 
 remain the month. Sir George and IMr. 
 Summers have always rather disliked him. 
 Mr. Spooner will be the last to give him up." 
 
 " Ah ! you agree with me ; his temper and 
 Captain Crabshawe's are alike." 
 
 "Very far from it. Your husband's temper 
 is so good that he will be the last to quarrel 
 with him. My husband will be the first, not 
 because his temper is a quarrelsome one, but 
 because he has no control over it. Whatever 
 he thinks will come out." 
 
 "Every day proves to me more and more 
 that if a woman wishes to be happy she 
 ought not to marry." 
 
 "And every day proves to me more and
 
 LORDS AND LADIES. 175 
 
 more that it is a woman's profession to marry. 
 Men go into tlie Army, the Navy, the Church; 
 they are lawyers, and doctors, and merchants, 
 and in that way they make use of the 
 talents or gifts the Almighty has bestowed on 
 them ; while woman, in the nursery, learns to 
 be a good daughter, an affectionate sister, 
 which prepares her for being a loyal wife 
 and a fond mother, and for that she was 
 created ; for that she has been gifted with an 
 enthusiasm you don't find in men ; with a 
 patient and hopeful mind, that carries her 
 through minor difficulties that no man would 
 tolerate ; with a quickness of wit, and a courage 
 under trials, that enables her to grapple mth 
 domestic troubles that would leave a man 
 stranded and helpless. Thus, if we are tolerably 
 well-behaved to each other, and occupy our 
 volatile minds with plenty of woman's work, 
 and endeavour to amuse each other with little 
 flights of fancy, and whimsicalities that we
 
 176 LOEDS AND LADIES. 
 
 women love, the month will be gone ere we 
 think it has begun. But I am sorry for the 
 gentlemen — they cannot knit, sew, sing, and 
 play. They are but poorly gifted with the art 
 of amusing each other. They will smoke until 
 they are all bilious ; they will shoot until they 
 know every rabbit left on the island ; they will 
 play whist half the day, wrangling over it ; 
 they will yawn over their books, and only feel 
 pretty lively when dinner is announced." 
 
 " What a character you give of them ! Don't 
 complain of mine for the future — you are much 
 more severe." 
 
 "Only while they are alone, recollect. When 
 we are with them all their better feelings are 
 called into play. They are courteous, entertain- 
 ing, excellent gentlemen. Our presence brings 
 forth these virtues. We must certainly win the 
 challenge — I don't see how it can be otherwise 
 — but we must have no nonsense, Arabella." 
 
 "What do you mean, !Mrs. Joscelynf
 
 LORDS AND LADIES. 177 
 
 "Come, ^ive me a kiss, and promise me 
 that you will be punctual^ lively, active, and, 
 above everything, kind in your thoughts to the 
 absent Augustus." 
 
 "He is so different from what he was." 
 " Oh ! nonsense. He sees, as all sensible 
 persons see, that to go on with your little love 
 foUies is simply absurd. You are his dear 
 wife, than whom he loves nothing better. You 
 will believe that without requiring him to go 
 about the world proclaiming it. Did I not 
 hear you call him ^Poppet' one day, and did 
 not his friends laugh at him? But see, here 
 are the girls ! How I have chattered — I believe, 
 though, sermonised. Well, maidens, have you 
 done all your duties?" 
 
 " Yes, mother," replied Bessie, " and Susan 
 has given us so much praise — we are 
 quite conceited. She says if she only had 
 us for fellow-servants, she never need scold 
 again." 
 
 VOL. I. N
 
 178 LORDS AND LADIES. 
 
 "Don't believe her — you would, at the end 
 of a week, be in as much disgrace as Ellen 
 and Jane. In fact, Bessie, I prophesy you 
 will have Susan's *mind,' which is her word 
 for an outburst of temper, before that time." 
 
 "Then I will give her mine." 
 
 "I should like to settle some plan for em- 
 ploying our days," observed (]lara. "They say 
 ' man is the creature of habit.' I shall not be 
 shocking Captain Crabshawe's feelings, three 
 miles between us, if I presume that women 
 sliare in this inference." 
 
 "I know Pussie does. See, gossip, how she 
 is rushing in and out among the trees. 
 Seven weeks ago she opened her eyes upon 
 this vain but delightful world, and from that 
 time she appointed her hours for play, her 
 times for repose, and her moments for reflec- 
 tion, and never lias she swerved one iota from 
 either." 
 
 "Just like my canary, cousin. He does the
 
 LORDS AND LADIES. 179 
 
 same thing every day, almost at the same 
 minute." 
 
 " Then as my gossip wishes us to imitate 
 the wise conduct of Pussie and Dicky, pro- 
 ceed, aunt, with your orders, and apportion out 
 our time." 
 
 " I think we need not be quite so particular as 
 those beloved pets of yours. In the first place, 
 I must not neglect Miss Bessie's education. 
 She must go on with her lessons." 
 
 " Oh ! how disagreeable ! I am Mrs. Spooner's 
 lady's-maid, and Susan's kitchen-maid. Surely 
 I need not be little Bessie Joscelyn at 
 school?" 
 
 " Oh, yes, do, Bessie ! because it will be an 
 amusement to me to teach you music," pleaded 
 Kate. 
 
 " And I should like to go on drawing with 
 you," said Clara. 
 
 " And, Bessie, I should like to teach you 
 something," echoed Mrs. Spooner. 
 
 n2
 
 180 LORDS AND LADIES. 
 
 " Oh ! this is too bad !" replied Bessie, half 
 tearfully; "if you all mean to employ your- 
 selves on my education, I shall become too 
 clever to bear myself." 
 
 "Don't fear, Bessie," said her mother. "Our 
 capabilities of teaching are your safeguard, and 
 I prophesy the lessons will be more to your 
 mind than play. Now, let us go home, for 
 the evening shadows are falling fast. Look, 
 Arabella, from this point we have a perfect 
 view of Puff, and the light from the setting 
 sun is so strong, if we had a glass we might 
 perhaps see our husbands walking about and 
 smoking." 
 
 "I can see the smoke," observed Mrs. 
 Spooner, just a little sighingly. 
 
 " We will hope that is from their chimneys, 
 not their pipes. Blow them a kiss, as I will, 
 I bear them no malice; the only thing I 
 begin to fear is that I shall like this life 
 too well!"
 
 LORDS AND LADIES. 181 
 
 ^^Mrs. Joscelyn," whispered Mrs. Spooner, 
 "look at Clara, how spell-bound she is, look- 
 ing at Puff! How pretty her earnest profile is 
 against the rosy sky!" 
 
 " Yes, I should not wonder if at this self- 
 same hour another face is steadily looking 
 this way from Puff!" 
 
 "But I thought they had quarrelled; they 
 seemed very cool to each other the last few 
 days." 
 
 "Perhaps that was a blind. You know Clara 
 is of a sensitive, nervous nature. If he proposed 
 — which he may have done — she has probably 
 deferred her answer until our trial is over. 
 Mr. Summers is a lucky man if he gains her 
 for a wife." 
 
 "I don't agree with you about his having 
 proposed — or that he will be lucky if she ac- 
 cepts him ; she has such a touchy temper. 
 I prefer Kate infinitely." 
 
 "Kate is nothing but a little loveable
 
 182 LORDS AND LADIES. 
 
 lively thing — she has not had a serious 
 thought yet. She has not been tried as Clara 
 has." 
 
 "I never heard of any of her misfortunes." 
 
 " She has had no startling or sudden griefs ; 
 for her parents died while she was too young 
 to feel their loss. But her trials have been 
 almost worse to bear than a great grief. God, 
 however, is the comforter of the mourner, and 
 throws a halo of heaven round one whom He 
 hath chastened. But the wearisome, woful life 
 of a fine-hearted spirited creature, left de- 
 pendant on niggardly, narrow-minded relations, is 
 a sad lot." 
 
 "But I thought Clara was independent, and 
 had indeed a good fortune?" 
 
 " Yes, now she has. Her story is rather 
 romantic. We will get her to tell it to us 
 some day." 
 
 "Oh! here is that great brute of hers, 
 Kuna — she will eat up my darling pet."
 
 LORDS AND LADIES. 183 
 
 9 "I told Susan to let Runa loose every 
 evening, as a safeguard." 
 
 " Gracious heavens ! yes. Oh ! dear ! dear ! 
 I begin to feel how rash it was for us to 
 consent to come here ! How could Augustus 
 permit me to do so mad a thing? It is be- 
 coming quite dark !" 
 
 "We shall be safe in the house. There 
 are good locks and bolts to both doors and 
 windows." 
 
 Once in the transformed saloon, now all 
 ruddy and aglow with a bright little fire and 
 two or three lamps, it had quite a home look, 
 with the tea-things all laid, and the urn 
 puffing and hissing; Mrs. Spooner forgot her 
 fears. 
 
 They spent a very pleasant evening, partly 
 enlivening it with music and singing, partly by 
 reading aloud, and a game of cribbage for 
 Bessie. 
 
 Prayers at ten o'clock were succeeded by a
 
 184 LORDS AND LADIES. 
 
 general inspection of doors and windows, aftea: 
 which they all went to bed, happy, but 
 a little awed by their lonely and isolated con- 
 dition. 
 
 Thus we have fairly established the Puffs 
 and Luffs at last on their respective islands. 
 
 It must be confessed that my "Lords" and 
 "Ladies" have nothing very remarkable about 
 them. They are a set of people the types of 
 whom we meet every day, find from whom 
 we can expect nothing romantic, astonishing, or 
 disgraceful. 
 
 We have a jovial squire, and his sensible 
 sweet-tempered wife. We have an uninteresting 
 couple in Mr. and Mrs. Spooner ; a pair of lovers 
 in the very crisis of one thing or the other, 
 in Mr. Summers and Miss Severn. We have 
 one of those pretty creatures to be met with 
 anywhere — a lively, sunny-faced girl, just out 
 of her teens, without a care, without a thought 
 beyond the day; and to match her is a gay
 
 LORDS AND LADIES. 185 
 
 young bachelor, caught, like a moth in the 
 flame of the candle, by her pretty, artless 
 ways, and rebounding from the torch, lest it 
 should be Hymen's. 
 
 Captain Crabshawe seems the only one among 
 them all likely to make or produce a sensation ; 
 but neither mentally nor personally is he 
 qualified to act the part of hero. He is too 
 much of an old woman, be it said, to act the 
 villain's part, unless he goes into partnership 
 with the " excellent convict." 
 
 He, that '^excellent convict," alone possesses 
 the materials for making a sensation; and at 
 present all of the original devil that was in 
 him is absorbed in the delightful and rare 
 position, for him, of being in a paradise not 
 only of unlimited "victual and drink," but 
 where these are of a toothsome and savoury 
 kind. 
 
 Never had it occurred to him at any previous 
 time, in his numerous adventures, to sit before
 
 186 LORDS AND LADIES. 
 
 a round of beef, with the liberty to carve for 
 himself, and as often as he fancied ; with a 
 large jack of beer flanking it, out of which he 
 was free to pour as much as he pleased. 
 
 This state of things had the effect of 
 making the only villain amongst my corps 
 dramatique virtuous. He was compelled to be 
 good, to please that part of his organisation 
 which is the first to show itself at our birth, 
 and the last to leave us in old age. 
 
 Human nature (once more we moralise on 
 this interesting theme, which has occupied the 
 world since Eve was beguiled by the serpent, 
 and Adam was beguiled by Eve, and was 
 mean enough to allow it ) — human nature has 
 certain rules from which she never swerves. 
 Amongst her most arbitary laws is that one 
 which binds her subjects to certain habits or 
 fancies at certain stages of their existence. 
 Solomon, our first philosopher, has simply 
 stated this truth by saying ; " There is a
 
 LORDS AND LADIES. 187 
 
 time for all things." Time for mirth, for 
 sorrow, for sleeping, for waking, for dancing 
 and sitting still, for eating and drinking. 
 
 Carrying on this thought through all the 
 metaphysical branches that will lead up to the 
 most sublime conceptions, and down again to 
 the merest statement of facts, let us bring it 
 to bear on Scruttles — the " excellent convict." 
 
 He had had his time for picking and steal- 
 ing, his time for pains and imprisonment, his 
 time for repentance and amendment ; and now 
 he approached that period when, according to 
 the laws of human nature, a gastronomic 
 mood should be the ruling passion of his 
 life. 
 
 For the sake of plenty of " victual and drink " 
 Scruttles was ready to forego all other 
 pastimes in which his soul had hitherto 
 delighted. 
 
 Rather than lose the prospect of perpetual 
 cuts at that round of beef, and unlimited
 
 188 LOEDS AND LADIES. 
 
 quaffs from that jack of beer, he would tiy 
 to speak the truth, refrain from taking pos- 
 session of what did not belong to liim, and 
 endeavour to do his duty in his present walk 
 of life. 
 
 Thus, not even the brain of a Mrs. Rad- 
 cliffe could depict, or venture to create startling 
 events, overwhelming horrors, and distracting 
 mysteries, as occurring to our Lords and 
 Ladies. 
 
 With every disposition to make the most 
 of the position in which they had placed 
 themselves, through one of those accidental 
 miffs that will arise between the best-tempered 
 of either sex, there seems little prospect of 
 having anything to relate, but that all heartily 
 repented the challenge — all were extremely 
 stupid and dull — all rejoiced to see each other 
 again; and the question upon which they 
 split — namely, smoking — was almost entirely 
 forgotten, until once more Mrs. Joscelyn reno-
 
 LORDS AND LADIES. 189 
 
 vated and beautified her house, and once more 
 requested they would not contaminate her clean 
 curtains by smoking. 
 
 Nevertheless, there is (as doubtless my dear 
 reader has observed) a certain difference be- 
 tween the rulers of the two kingdoms. 
 
 Captain Crabshawe, as king of Puff, has 
 already shown symptoms of an arbitrary and 
 captious nature. He intends to govern his 
 subjects by the laws of baiting and badger- 
 ing. 
 
 Mrs. Joscelyn, as queen of Luff, evidently 
 means to rule her people by the arts of gen- 
 tleness and persuasive gaiety. 
 
 There can be no question as to the result ; 
 and bearing this in our mind, let us cease 
 moralizing, and prepare to go on with their 
 history.
 
 190 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 PUFI^ ! PUFF ! 
 
 ScRUTTLES was not the only subject ruled by 
 King Crabshawe, avIio had arrived at that 
 phase of his existence called the gastronomic. 
 
 The Squire was in the full flood-tide of 
 dainty and appetising thoughts. When he 
 dressed in the morning, with the first stroke 
 of his razor .he bethought him of the one 
 cut across a kidney, to be broiled in its own 
 gravy for breakfast; or the first incision of 
 the knife into a juicy, smoking beefsteak. 
 As he pulled his socks up his well-shaped 
 legs, he was reminded of devilled legs of
 
 LOEDS AND LADIES. 191 
 
 turkeys; as he saw himself in the looking- 
 glass, getting into his clean white shirt, he 
 regarded himself as a huge new-laid egg. In 
 fact, there was scarcely a single phase in his 
 dressing arrangements that did not remind him 
 of breakfast in some shape or another. 
 
 The Squire did not sell himself to the in- 
 sidious pleasures of luncheon, therefore he 
 may be pardoned if he thought a good deal 
 of his dinner. It began to occupy his thoughts 
 just as the remembrance of his breakfast faded 
 away, and occupied them more or less until 
 it was absolutely discussed and done with. 
 
 Sir George was a little fastidious about his 
 meals, and generally devoted his attention to 
 entrees and entremets, having a sort of feeble 
 idea that the sight of a large joint rather 
 repelled him than otherwise. 
 
 Mr. Spooner, on the contrary, felt that the 
 very look of a magnificent round of beef 
 was almost as good as the eating thereof.
 
 192 LORDS AND LADIES. 
 
 He was not exactly a Barmecide, but his en- 
 joyment of his dinner had a great deal to do 
 with its appearance. 
 
 As for Frank Summers, he ate what was 
 put before him, without word or comment; 
 and except in the matter of salads or fruit, 
 seemed equally indifferent as to whether it was 
 beef, mutton, pork, or veal. 
 
 Captain Crabshawe boasted that he could 
 dine on bread and cheese! — on nothing! Eat- 
 ing was a farce — dinners a bore ! Why not 
 go to the cupboard and eat when you were 
 hungry, without all this parade and nonsense? 
 Nevertheless, King Crabshawe loved game and 
 poultry in his heart. He liked to crunch their 
 tender young bones between his great teeth, 
 and he always took up the legs between his 
 fingers, and ate them as one supposes a Fiji 
 would eat his wife. 
 
 With all these different tastes, imagine our 
 dear heroes^ on the fourth day of their happy
 
 LORDS AND LADIES. 193 
 
 sojourn on the free Island of Puff, sitting 
 down for the fourth time to dine on that round 
 of beef — now merely a shadow of its former 
 self — and the gaunt bone of the now skeleton 
 ham. No excellent roasts for the Squire, no 
 delicacies for Sir George, nothing substantial 
 to delight Mr. Spooner, not even the bone of 
 a peewit for Captain Crabshawe to crunch. 
 
 The Squire had that ominous frown on his 
 brow which sat there on our first acquaintance 
 with him. No longer faultlessly dressed, he 
 appeared to have forgotten all about the honour 
 of dining with " Jack Joscelyn," and was 
 clothed in his shooting-jacket. This was in 
 itself sign enough of the deteriorating habits of 
 his present life. 
 
 Sir George looked as if he had just landed 
 from off a rickety steamer, that had encountered 
 a fearful storm. Mr. Spooner was peevish, 
 Captain Crabshawe irritable ; Frank alone cut 
 away at the shadowy remains of the beef, as 
 VOL. I.
 
 194 LORDS AND LADIES. 
 
 if it was the proudest moment of his Hfe. 
 
 Behind him, holding a plate, as if he sur- 
 reptitiously designed to knock the amiable 
 Frank's brains out with it, stood the "excel- 
 lent convict." His countenance had assumed a 
 new and peculiar aspect ; it bore the sad and 
 wistful watchfulness of those of our ancestors 
 who (if we are to believe "The Vestiges of 
 Creation") still retain their tails. 
 
 No hungry, shivering, ill-used, blighted 
 monkey, ever cast such quick, imploring, piti- 
 ful glances, as did Scruttles, sometimes being 
 able to take in the countenance of each master 
 at one glance. It made him more ugly than 
 ever. 
 
 For, most extraordinary to relate, none of 
 the gentlemen seemed to appreciate " Bush " 
 cooking. To-day was the third day that they 
 had ordered an excellent dinner, the very order- 
 ing of which gave them an appetite for it, 
 and yet there they were, not only still dining
 
 LORDS AND LADIES. 195 
 
 on cold beef and ham, but almost all the rest 
 of their provisions used up. 
 
 Yes, " used up," but never eaten. No 
 roast legs of mutton for them — no juicy beef- 
 steaks. The fillet of veal remained in the ashes 
 where it had dropped — a blackened mass — and 
 there was nothinfr left in the Puff larder but 
 a neck of mutton, and the sirloin of beef 
 that was intended for their Sunday dinner. 
 
 No wonder Scruttles looked as if he bore 
 on his pate the united miseries of the whole 
 monkey tribe. By the very aphony he himself 
 felt at the prospect of losing this paradise of 
 unlimited good, he knew what his "masters" 
 were enduring. And yet it was not his fault 
 that, on the first day he cooked their dinner, 
 they had forgotten to tell him that though 
 the fashionable hour for dinner in Bush life, and 
 among convicts — excellent or otherwise — -was high 
 noon, gentlemen dined at low sunset. 
 
 Thus, when they returned from shooting — 
 
 2
 
 196 LORDS AND LADIES. 
 
 jocund and gay, hungry through very antici- 
 pation of eating the dinner they all had 
 helped to order — was it his fault that they 
 found it cold and miserable, as no doubt 
 it would be, served up at one o'clock, and not 
 uncovered until seven ! 
 
 " Cold mutton is my aversion !" exclaimed 
 Sir George. 
 
 "And covered with this beastly sauce," 
 said the Squire, " which ought to have been 
 in a boat!" 
 
 " Was this our apple dumpling ?" sighed ^Ir. 
 Spooner. 
 
 "Apparently it was boiled with the mutton," 
 remarked Frank, as he flicked off some capers 
 f^om its collapsed form. 
 
 His majesty Crabshawe said nothing, but 
 partook of all the cold viands — even the cold 
 potatoes and carrots, with an air of dignity 
 and calm contentment that ought to have 
 been a lesson to the others.
 
 LORDS AND LADIES. 197 
 
 He even ate tlie cold apple dumpling with 
 the deliberate care and caution requisite upon 
 its first appearance in life, hot out of its 
 cloth and basin. 
 
 You could have sworn that he tossed a bit 
 of apple to and fro on the tip of his tongue^ 
 to avoid the danger of scalding that useful 
 member. 
 
 The second day's dinner lay, as beforesaid, in 
 the ashes where it fell, after eight hours 
 roasting. A fillet of veal was an article of 
 food that Scruttles now saw probably for the 
 first time. Its pale and flaccid appearance in- 
 duced him to think it would require a vast 
 deal of cooking. 
 
 So he set it down to roast betimes; and 
 knowing that dinner was not to be until 
 seven, he settled in his own mind that his 
 masters must be obeyed, notwithstanding the 
 evident demonstrations of the fillet of veal 
 that it was sufficiently roasted long before.
 
 198 LORDS AND LADIES. 
 
 " Ay, burn away ! ye aggrawating wital, 
 but I'm darned if you go on the table until 
 seven strikes !" 
 
 The third day's dinner consisted of a rabbit 
 pie, with some little extras. 
 
 The gentlemen were so far reasonable, that 
 they duly recognised the anxious desire of 
 Scruttles to please, who, in his endeavour to 
 anticipate their wishes, promised so much in 
 his turn, that they were equally deceived as 
 to what he could do. 
 
 The opening of that pie, on this eventful 
 fourth evening, settled all question of future 
 dinners dressed by the " excellent convict." 
 
 "It does not look much amiss outside," had 
 the Squire remarked, so he boldly inserted the 
 knife, and a hot steam rushed out. 
 
 " Good heavens !" he exclaimed, his handker- 
 chief to his nose, "what has he put in the 
 pie?" 
 
 " Good gracious !" cried Sir George, rushing
 
 LORDS AND LADIES. 199 
 
 from the table, as the pungent steam pene- 
 trated his nostrils. 
 
 "Faugh! oh! ah! heaven and earth!" splut- 
 tered Mr. Spooner. 
 
 " Hah !" said Frank, ruminating. " Scruttles, 
 before you put those rabbits into that pie, did 
 you — did you — clean, skin, or truss, or what- 
 ever if is called — those rabbits?" 
 
 " Anan !" answered Scruttles, looking hideous 
 with perplexity. 
 
 "Did you paunch them?" continued Frank. 
 
 "Punch 'em?" echoed Scruttles. 
 
 "Did you put those rabbits into that pie 
 just as we gave them to you, or did you clean 
 'em out?" roared the Squire. 
 
 "Cleaned out?" replied Scruttles, to whom 
 the phrase seemed to have a familiar though 
 mournful sound. 
 
 " Scruttles, my man," said the Captain, 
 " were you careful to clean and wash those 
 rabbits before you put them into the pie?"
 
 200 LORDS AND LADIES. 
 
 " Wash 'em !" and this time there was as- 
 tonishment depicted in a remarkably ugly 
 manner in the countenance of Scruttles. 
 " Wash 'em ! No sir, we thinks as there be 
 no surt o' flavour in a beast like a raabbit. 
 We do dress- him all of a loomp-like, to make 
 he tasty?" 
 
 As he spoke the Squire drew forth the 
 entire corpse of a rabbit out of the pie, which 
 bore a sad resemblance to a drowned cat freshly 
 fished out of a gutter. 
 
 "Cannot your man cook?" asked Mr. Spooner, 
 later on in the evening, as they all sat smok- 
 ing. 
 
 " Sam, you mean ?" said Sir George. " We 
 will ask. That pie! ugh!" 
 
 Sam being summoned, the following col- 
 loquy took place: — 
 
 Sir George. — " Sam, can you cook ?" 
 
 Sam. — "No, Sir George, but I have a good 
 receipt for patent varnish !"
 
 LORDS AND LADIES. 201 
 
 The Squire, — "Sam, you can broil a mutton 
 chop?" 
 
 Sam, — "No, sir. But I have a rare polish 
 for top-boots !" 
 
 Captain Crabshaive. — "Sam, can you do any- 
 thing f 
 
 Though psychologists make no mention of 
 the fact, yet it has been undeniably proved, 
 from past • history, as well as present experience, 
 that men are as fully slaves to certain whims 
 and fancies as the weakest woman ever 
 bom. 
 
 The crotchet of Sir George was for his 
 servant Sam. Any insult to himself he could 
 have borne good-humouredly, as a gentleman 
 should ; but reflect upon Sam, and you had 
 him, as Shakespeare saith, " on the hip !" 
 
 Sir George. — " Leave my servant alone, will 
 you; he, at least, is respectable, which is more 
 than can be said of that dirty, lying thief you 
 have brought to poison us !"
 
 202 LORDS AND LADIES. 
 
 Captain C. — "He does as he is bid, at all 
 events, whereas your fellow won't even make 
 the beds." 
 
 Sarriy blubbering. — " Please — Captain — I wasn't 
 born a housemaid, nor nothing of the sort !" 
 
 Captain C. — " Maid, sirrah ! what do you 
 mean by saying maid here?" 
 
 Frank. — " Which reminds me that none of 
 our beds are made at present. Come along, 
 Spooner, and let us perform that necessary 
 work." 
 
 "It appears to me," remarked Spooner, as 
 he assisted Summers, "that we are now veri- 
 fying that proverb I have so often read in the 
 Bible — it relates to making one's bed, you 
 know, and lying on it." 
 
 "It's a very good proverb, but it is not in 
 the Bible, Spooner." 
 
 " Now, is it not ? I thought all good sayings 
 came from the Bible." 
 
 "Most of them do, but there are a few
 
 LORDS AND LADIES. 203 
 
 worldly proverbs meandering about amongst us, 
 that are both pithy and appropriate. What 
 do you say to ^Too many cooks spoil the 
 broth r" 
 
 "My good fellow, would that we had 
 one !" 
 
 "You and I must turn cooks. The Squire's 
 temper won't stand any more cold beef, and 
 the ham evidently is beginning to disagree ^vitli 
 him. Wlien we go back, after making these 
 beds, let us offer our services." 
 
 " But I know no more of cooking, Frank, 
 than this bolster." 
 
 " Then the party will be broken up, the 
 challenge lost, before a week is out, and all 
 for so simple a reason that we could not boil 
 our own potatoes." 
 
 "Hang it! 1 don't mean ever to give in. 
 There is an oddity, or rather I should style it 
 a tenacity, in my wife's memory, that will 
 never permit her to forget her triumph, if she
 
 204 LORDS AND LADIES. 
 
 does trinmph. No, no, rather than be badgered 
 and taunted all my days, I will study cookery, 
 and be your kitchen-maid, on any terms." 
 
 "With a cookery-book, I don't see how we 
 can fail. Women cook by receipts, I sup- 
 pose?" 
 
 "Very true, Frank; but what I fear is, we 
 shall not understand the rudiments. Most re- 
 ceipts that I have seen appear to infer that 
 we know everything already." 
 
 "Matters have arrived at that pass, we must 
 do something. We have three more dinners to 
 provide for, and there is nothing in the larder 
 but the sirloin of beef and a neck of mutton." 
 
 "We have game — rabbits." 
 
 " Oh !— oh ! — don't mention them !" 
 
 " We can make the rest of the beef into 
 Bubble-and-Squeak." 
 
 " Where's our cabbage ? — and which is 
 Bubble, and which is Squeak ? " 
 
 " What a row they are making down-stairs I
 
 LORDS AND LiU)IES. 205 
 
 Crab and Sir ^ Folly/ as Scruttles calls him, as 
 usual, quarrelling. We must go down and pour 
 oil on the troubled waters." 
 
 "Very good; and remember, in offering 
 ourselves as cooks, let us not forget to ask 
 the gracious permission of our punctilious mon- 
 arch." 
 
 " What an absurd old idiot he is ! I had no 
 idea he was so utterly ignorant, not to say 
 iUiterate." 
 
 " One can only tell a person's true character by 
 living with him, and - he certainly does not im- 
 prove upon acquaintance." * 
 
 "Most certainly not!" answered a crabbed 
 voice close to them. " Follett grows a greater 
 fool every day. He spoils the whole party 
 with his absurd whims and tempers." 
 
 "We must bear with him, nevertheless, 
 Crabshawe ; for if he goes home we losf. the 
 challenge." 
 
 " Humph !" growled the Captain — " deuced
 
 206 LORDS AND LADIES. 
 
 hard to put up with him — but anything is 
 better than giving in." 
 
 "We two wish to know whether you will 
 accept our services as cooks." 
 
 *^ Excellent ! — excellent ! — ah, my dear fellows, 
 you give me new life." 
 
 " You think of nothing but your stomach, 
 Squire," again growled the king. 
 
 *' Well, it is always thinking of me — we 
 have a mutual liking for each other. Come, 
 boys, come here, and let us talk it over." 
 "Without consulting mef 
 "We offered ourselves to you first." 
 "Well, I suppose you did — go on, then." 
 "I propose, my dear Squire, that we have 
 no consultation about it. Leave it to Spooner 
 and me. We have so little left on which to 
 experimentalize, that we are nervous, and a 
 discuaeion might reveal to us such impossible 
 ideas on your parts, that we should give up 
 our situations at once."
 
 LORDS AND LADIES. 207 
 
 '^ Good heavens ! no — don't do that. All I 
 want is a hot mutton chop — that will dine 
 me." 
 
 " A dozen you mean, Squire." 
 
 "Hot and hot, between two hot plates," 
 quoth the Squire, unheeding the interruption. 
 " I shall be perfectly satisfied without another 
 thing." 
 
 " We will do our best to please you. One 
 thing is certain — all that we do shall be cleanly 
 done." 
 
 " That's a comfort, at all events." 
 
 "I am sure Scruttles ^" 
 
 "Intends that we should go to whist — coine 
 along, gentlemen. What with a reasonable 
 amount of trumps, a steady reflecting partner, 
 a good cigar, and a tumbler of cold whisky 
 and water, I am happy to say I envy no 
 man." Which cheery sentiment sounded all the 
 more admirable from the Squire's lips, suffering 
 as he was from three bad dinners in succession.
 
 208 LORDS AND LADIES. 
 
 It is astonishing Avhat a difference it makes 
 in a man's " physique " whether he dines 
 well or ill. We might enter into a long 
 dissertation, collected from history, beginning 
 at the remotest ages, and going on through 
 centuries of barbarism — of wars, of peace, of 
 glory, of luxuries, arts, literature, and refine- 
 ment, and winding up with the Squire as the 
 latest known example of the power of the 
 appetite over the mind. 
 
 Women are less influenced by the seductions 
 of the palate. 
 
 Witness Eve, who only succumbed to the 
 temptation upon learning that the fruit, though 
 fair to look upon, was to be "desired" because 
 of the rare property it possessed of being able 
 to "make her wise." Is it not a well-known 
 fact, that Napoleon lost the battle of Waterloo 
 because he made a bad breakfast? 
 
 But why go on, interesting as the subject 
 may be? It is necessary that we think of
 
 LOllDS AND LADIES. 209 
 
 nothing but our Lords and Ladies. Neverthe- 
 less, the few remarks above are not irrelevant. 
 The utmost justice is intended to be adminis- 
 tered to both parties, and the reader is re- 
 quested to draw his own inferences from the 
 fact, that the Lords are starting on their trial 
 under the most afflicting disadvantages. Their 
 king is always out of temper, and they cannot 
 get anything fit to eat — both evils of that 
 kind least suited to their temperament and 
 sex. While the Ladies are coaxed into good- 
 humour and happiness, and dine royally every 
 day, neither of which advantages is it in their 
 nature and sex to care much about. 
 
 Again, we might moralise upon the extraor- 
 dinary whimsicalities of fortune, who will give 
 to one that for which he has no value, while 
 his neighbour absolutely desires it as the one 
 necessary of life, and dies for want of it ; 
 but we will not be seduced into the mazes of 
 thought, or the ramifications of theory. We 
 VOL. I. P
 
 210 LORDS AXD LADIES. 
 
 will simply attend the dehut of the new 
 cooks. 
 
 With a becoming seriousness, that was much 
 applauded by the Squire, Frank (we are so 
 fond of him, we cannot help imitating his 
 companions, and calling him Frank, though we 
 have not asked permission to do so), Frank had 
 tied a dinner-napkin before him, by way of 
 apron, and had covered his luxuriant curls 
 with a paper cap, charmingly illustrative of 
 the real man-cook. If he took such pains, and 
 succeeded so well in merely looking like a 
 cook, what might they not expect from his 
 efforts to emulate the skill of one. 
 
 Light-hearted and hopeful, the Squire, the 
 Captain, and Sir George departed on a fishing 
 expedition, accompanied by Sam, the two cooks 
 confidently affirming that Scruttles would give 
 them all the help they required. 
 
 About two o'clock the fishermen were to land, 
 and send up their fish to the house, to help
 
 LOEDS AND LADIES. 211 
 
 out the dinner, which was accordingly done. 
 
 Upon Sam's return from taking it to the 
 house, the Squire eagerly asked how they Avere 
 getting on. 
 
 "Mr. Spooner wor reading a yaller book, 
 stretched out on the grass afore the dore, and 
 Mr. Summers wor a-smoking 'is pipe on the 
 balkerney, looking out on t'other hisland." 
 
 "And Scruttles?" 
 
 "He wor a-scratchen 'is hed, and luiking at 
 the t'others." 
 
 The Squire shook his head, but his great 
 heart was hopeful. The two new cooks had 
 promised to do their best — it would be un- 
 pardonable if he doubted their word for a 
 moment. But it must be owned he had some 
 qualms, as they bent their steps homeward, and 
 seven o'clock drew near. 
 
 He would not venture into the kitchen, lie 
 might make them nervous. But he glanced at 
 the dinner-table ; it looked as neatly and
 
 212 LOKDS AND LADIES. 
 
 deftly arranged as if the butler at Deep-Cliffs 
 had laid it. 
 
 Up-stairs, too, unlike yesterday, and the day 
 befoi'e yesterday, all the beds were made, the 
 rooms tidied, and their clothes put out to 
 change. 
 
 " Ah ! ha ! " exclaimed the Squire, jocund, 
 "this is something like — I could almost imagine 
 Elizabeth had been here !" 
 
 "And who is slief Captain Crabshawe, in 
 endeavouring to look severely ironical, simply 
 assumed a more vinegary aspect than usual. 
 
 His irony w^as lost on the Squire. 
 
 " The best wife in Christendom," quoth he ; 
 "and I don't care who says — " the last word 
 was lost in the plunge the Squire made into 
 his bath ; submerging his head and face with 
 such a glorious splatteration, such a gurgling 
 and dousing, such a bubbling and cascading, 
 no wonder the Captain stood for the moment 
 transfixed with astonishment. But he had to
 
 LORDS AND LADIES. 213 
 
 beat a speedy retreat, in order to escape 
 beino; "douched" against his will. 
 
 The two cooks sensibly felt the honour done 
 them, as John Joscelyn Esq. appeared all 
 smiling and debonnaire, dressed for the erening. 
 
 Now, whether Mr. Summers had mistaken 
 his vocation in life, and selected to be a 
 gentleman, and not a first-rate cook ; or whether 
 Mr. Spooner had only now discovered that, 
 remarkable in nothing hitherto, he would have 
 made a name and a reputation as a gastro- 
 momic regenerator; or whether the previous 
 dinners, being so utterly bad, made all others 
 by comparison appear superlatively good, cer- 
 tainly this dinner, the coup cTessai of the new 
 cooks, was a signal success. 
 
 We do not mean to flatter them by saying 
 it was faultless. The soup was excellent — but 
 then, taken out of its hermetically sealed tin, 
 it only required heating, and that the sauce- 
 pan should be clean, the tureen ditto and
 
 214 LORDS AND LADIES. 
 
 hot, and the soup-plates also ; which different 
 requirements were admirably performed. 
 
 Then came the fish. They were haddocks. 
 They did not look nice, but they were boiled 
 to a trurn. Tlie new cooks had forgotten that 
 fish are served on a drainer with a napkin. 
 But they disappeared so rapidly, having a 
 capital sauce to help them, that there was 
 not time to make many comments on their 
 appearance. 
 
 And now came covered plates, between each 
 a smoking-hot mutton-chop. The Squire roared 
 with delight, like a fine old lion as he was. 
 His fourth chop was a little burnt. 
 
 ^'What matter?" quoth he; ''1 did not 
 want it, only I thought it a compliment to 
 our cooks to take it." 
 
 And now behold the crowning effort ; a 
 large dish of Bubble and Squeak — though still 
 the vexed question, of which was Bubble and 
 which was Squeak, made Mv. Spooner look
 
 LORDS AND LADIES. 215 
 
 grave. This dish caused an infinity of con- 
 versation : 
 
 "When Frank discovered the cabbages, thrust 
 by that beast Scruttles into the potatoe sack, 
 he exclaimed — 'Now for Bubble and Squeak!' 
 said Spooner, glowing with conscious virtue 
 and revealed talent. 
 
 "And when we perceived how little of them 
 was fit to cook after washing and clipping, 
 how directly I remembered Soyer's suggestion of 
 adding potatoes to eke them out." 
 
 '' Ha ! ha !" laughed the Squire. " Colcannon 
 is the best dish that comes to table." 
 
 " We have nothing coming but maca- 
 roni ; for in truth we had no time — we 
 had so much to do getting everything clean 
 and tidy." 
 
 " Why, Sam told us, when he returned from 
 taking the fish, you were reading — and 
 Frank " 
 
 " 1 was studying the cookery-book, I dare-
 
 216 LORDS AND LADIES. 
 
 say, Squire, and you know it is Frank's pecu- 
 liar business to look out for the fla^. Also 
 the only time we had for a smoke." 
 
 "Far be it from me to say another word. 
 I don't hesitate to say I have dined like a 
 king. Did either of you think of trying your 
 hand at an omelette, now? They say it is 
 a simple thing?" 
 
 " So it is, Squire ; but if you have an 
 omelette, you cannot have the pleasure of 
 your cook's company to dinner. An omelette 
 once mixed cannot be left until it is served." 
 " Then don't think of it, my dear Frank ; 
 I have enjoyed my dinner all the more from 
 seeing you share it with us. I don't know 
 when I have had such fun. Not knowing 
 what was coming, you know, and then won- 
 dering how it would be cooked, and all 
 being so clean and hot, and you two having 
 done it all — why, King Crabshawe, I almost 
 feel as if I could take you round the waist
 
 LORDS AND LADIES. 217 
 
 and execute a ^ deux temps ' with you." 
 
 " A ^ dew tong ' indeed ! — why, Squire, I 
 shall be surprised if you can waddle into the 
 hall after eating such a dinner." 
 
 " My dear Crab, it has made a man of 
 me. I know I have a good appetite, but the 
 doctors tell me as long as I take so much 
 exercise, and go out all day and every day, 
 I can't eat too much. My blood circulates 
 so fast, it is always in want of replenish- 
 ment." 
 
 "Thank my stars I am in no such pre- 
 dicament; any morsel does for me." 
 
 "That is because your blood is stagnant, 
 and never flows at all." 
 
 Mr. Spooner, a little gone by the head, 
 through vanity and self-satisfaction, was rash 
 enough to lance thus at King Crab. Every 
 claw he possessed thrust itself out, and pro- 
 ceeded to nip at the unfortunate new cook. 
 
 " Come, Spoon," interposed the Squire, "don't
 
 218 LORDS AND LADIES. 
 
 let US spoil the remembrance of our good 
 dinner by any wrangling." 
 
 " Spoon ! Mr. Joscelyn, have I not said I 
 take it as a personal insult being designated 
 Spoon?" 
 
 ^' Just like you !" growled the Captain ; '^ you 
 are as weak as those unfortunate creatures 
 over at Luff. Why don't I object to being 
 called Crab? Simply because I am too sensible. 
 I know there isn't a shadow of likeness be- 
 tween me and a crab — not the remotest, so 
 naturally I don't care." 
 
 (The Captain forgot Crab Vinegar). 
 
 "But you, I suppose, think you are a 
 Spoon, and maybe there is some truth in 
 it." 
 
 It required all the Squire's influence, all 
 Frank's amiability, all Sir George's good breed- 
 ing, to assuage this quarrel. 
 
 The Squire carried off the Captain, and ad- 
 ministered to him a lion lecture.
 
 LORDS AND LADIES. 219 
 
 They were there as gentlemen, they met as 
 gentlemen, they were to be treated as gentle- 
 men. If Captain Crabshawe could not con- 
 trol his temper, which the Squire was sorry to 
 observe had broken bounds with all of them, 
 why, the fairest thing to do, was to break up 
 at once. The challenge was nothing, in 
 fact, after all, in the Squire's mind — it was 
 only a little sort of addition to a very 
 pleasant scheme. His heart was in the ex- 
 citement of a frolic, a sort of sporting life, 
 a time of agreeable sojourn with sporting 
 friends. The challenge was merely to give a 
 fillip to the whole affair. In his opinion, not 
 worth the keeping if they were to be un- 
 comfortable. 
 
 '^I don't know what you mean by saying 
 I quarrel with you all ?*' 
 
 "Then, of course, if you can't see that the 
 moment any one amongst us opens our lips 
 you find fault with what we say, the best
 
 220 LORDS AND LADIES. 
 
 thing to do Is to separate before we quarrel 
 irrevocably, which, Crabshawe, I should really 
 be sorry to do — an old friend like you." 
 
 "You are always talking of your Eliza- 
 beth." 
 
 '^ And why should I not talk of her ? I 
 love her — I am proud of her ; she was always 
 kind to you." 
 
 " She would not let us smoke !" 
 
 " And you won't let us speak ! Which is 
 worst — eh? If I came to Puff to avoid being 
 ordered about by Mrs. Joscelyn, by the lord 
 Harry, I am not going to be snubbed and 
 bulHed by one of my own sex !" 
 
 "Follett is such a fool, with his shirts and 
 his man Sam!" 
 
 " The other extreme, of no shirts and a 
 villainous-looking con\dct to wait on us, seems 
 equally foolish to us." 
 
 Perhaps a glimmer of this fact lit up a 
 transient ray of sense in King Crab's pate, or
 
 LORDS AND LADIES. 221 
 
 a sudden remembrance of the month's saving in 
 board and lodmnoj made itself felt. 
 
 " My dear Squire, I have been wrong. I 
 ask yonr pardon; the truth is, being the 
 promoter and proposer of the scheme, the re- 
 sponsibility has been too much for me. With 
 all your welfares at my heart, with the wish 
 to make you all happy, I have perhaps been 
 too anxious." 
 
 "Ah, yes! a great deal too anxious; leave 
 us to ourselves — let us each be happy in our 
 own way. Grab." 
 
 " I will, Squire — I will ! Henceforward I will 
 take no trouble." 
 
 "By all means take no trouble. Crab," 
 echoed the Squire, whose good heart would 
 not suffer him to run the chance of break- 
 ing the peace again, by any minute inquiry 
 as to what Captain Crabshavve considered 
 "trouble." Though he indemnified himself 
 in private by thinking to himself ;
 
 222 LORDS AXD LADIES. 
 
 "What an ass the fellow is!" 
 
 Meantime, Sir Georcre and Frank had not 
 succeeded in their mediation so well as the 
 Squire. 
 
 In truth, all unwottino;^ even to himself, 
 Spooner had found cooking thirsty work, and 
 he had just drunk himself into that phase 
 of tipsiness which may be called the cross 
 phase. 
 
 To all experienced in such matters, the fact 
 will be pretty clear, that he had not taken 
 much — the cross stasje being generally the 
 first one ; and no one would have found it 
 out, had it not brought into exuberant life 
 the nerve Opiniatum. Elated with his trium- 
 y)hant cUlmt as a cook, the nerve Opiniatum 
 rose, defiant of all contradiction. In vain 
 thev soothed and aro;ued. Finallv, hearinc: 
 the Squire returning with his penitent, Frank 
 besought the excited Spooner to come out 
 with him and have a quiet walk and pipe,
 
 LOKDS AND LADIES. 223 
 
 until his mood should have softened down 
 into that temperate zone which made Mr. 
 Spooner the amiable, but uninteresting person 
 we have endeavoured to describe. 
 
 "No, no, Frank! I am afraid of no man. 
 What I say, I say and stick to. Don't think 
 to get me out of his way. I don't want to 
 be got out of his way !" 
 
 " That is right, x^ugustus ! " said Captain 
 Crabshawe. "Old friends don't want to be 
 parted, do they ? I am sorry for what I said ; 
 so come along, and let us have our rubber." 
 
 " Captain Crabshawe, you are a gentleman 
 — I accept your apology ; though, as Frank 
 knows " 
 
 " Frank knows nothing, but that you and 
 I are to cook the dinner to-morrow — and there 
 is nothing to cook." 
 
 " Well ! Frank, my boy, leave it to me. 
 Didn't I cook you a good dinner to-day. 
 Squire ? Didn't I, now ?"
 
 224 LORDS AND LADIES. 
 
 " Then take the cookery-book, and look over 
 a few things, while I play the first rubber : 
 you shall cut in after." 
 
 " Very good, trust all to me, you may 
 trust everything to me. I will engage to 
 trust — I mean, trust to engage — every satis- 
 faction ; excellent dinner, trust me — heart and 
 soul altogether — trust ! " 
 
 And so, not only his nerve Opiniatum slept, 
 but his wdiole body. He slept until bed-time, 
 he slept as they walked him off to his couch, 
 and he slept the whole night through ; but he 
 awoke in the morning unutterably miserable. 
 
 As for helping to cook the dinner, much 
 less fulfilling his promise the night before, 
 the sight of a cup of tea made him shiver, 
 a slice of dry toast turned him as pale as 
 ashes. He could do nothino' but sit on the 
 
 o 
 
 beach, holding his hot head in his hotter 
 hands. 
 
 The Squire offered his services as kitchen-
 
 LORDS AND LADIES. 225 
 
 maid, but Frank seemed to have no misgivings. 
 
 " That's the best-hearted young fellow 1 
 know I" said the Squire fervently, as he, Sir 
 George, and King Crab proceeded to go 
 shooting. 
 
 " Ah !" murmured King Crab, " he is weak, 
 very weak, with regard to the other sex!" 
 
 " I honour him for it. I like to see a 
 young man fond of the girls. You may then 
 be sure there is no vice in him?" 
 
 " 'Tis dangerous work. Squire ! The girls now- 
 a-days are so forward! I know some who 
 would no more mind bringing one up for a 
 breach of promise of marriage, than I care 
 for knocking off the head of that rabbit." 
 
 "Then, pay the damages, George, and think you 
 have had your fun for your money. Though, 
 as far as I know of your fast girls, many 
 of them make far better wives than your 
 demure ones. I like a fine-spirited girl — pro- 
 vided she is a lady." 
 
 VOL. I. Q
 
 226 LORDS AND LADIES. 
 
 " Oh, bother ! they are all ladies now. 
 Look at those Miss Perjinks — there's flounces 
 
 and feathers for you !" 
 
 "I meant ladies in manners, Crab! As for 
 your flounces and feathers, to my mind, they 
 are just marks of the other sort. But some 
 one shouts !" 
 
 They retraced their steps, and met Frank 
 hatless and breathless; just behind him, the 
 melancholy Spooner, endeavouring to look ex- 
 cited, but having much the appearance of a 
 fly newly rescued from drowning out of a jug of 
 thick cream. He was rejoiced at his delivery, 
 but still nauseated and helpless. 
 
 " A boat !" exclaimed Frank. " She comes 
 from Luff. I can trace her track all the 
 way from there, straight here !" 
 
 " Where ! where is she ?" exclaimed the 
 Squire, knocking everyone aside. 
 
 '^ Who is in the boat ?" demanded Sir 
 George, and getting no answer.
 
 LORDS AND LADIES. 227 
 
 They all ran hastily down to the landing- 
 place ; the boat was still a quarter of a mile 
 from shore, and as there was a current run- 
 ning past there, it seemed to our excited 
 Puffites to make no way. 
 
 "Only one person in it! — an old fisherman! — 
 a very old fisherman ! — frightfully old !" Thus 
 did they describe him. 
 
 "Well," said the Squire, heaving a sigh, 
 that was almost as powerful as a young 
 breeze, " if Elizabeth was in any sort of 
 hurry, she w^ould not have sent such a rotten 
 old chap as that!" 
 
 " Or such a rotten old boat ! " 
 
 "If Arabella is ill!—" 
 
 "Be easy," said Frank, seeing Mr. Spooner 
 unable to complete his sentence, through 
 emotion, or the pang of some inward an- 
 guish ; " if there was anything really the 
 matter they would have hoisted the flag, as 
 they know we have a boat." 
 
 q2
 
 228 LORDS AND LADIES. 
 
 "Probably they are tired of Luff, have 
 given up the Challenge, and gone home!" 
 
 " Just like women !" said King Crabshavve ; 
 "they can't live two days together without 
 quarrelling, and so have broken up their party." 
 
 "I'll answer for it, no one has quarrelled 
 with Elizabeth ; but I daresay they are a bit 
 sick of the place, and want some extra license, 
 or a little infringement of our bargain ; Eliza- 
 beth is too sensible to take any liberty of 
 that sort without leave. What a time the 
 old hunks is !" 
 
 " I'll take our boat, and go and tow him 
 in." 
 
 " No, see ! he knows what he is about ! The 
 current will sweep him right in — directly." 
 
 Which it did ; and he was 'instantly boarded, 
 to his no small alarm, by the Squire and 
 Frank. In fact, he had cause for fear; his 
 boat was really so rotten, the Squire was 
 nearly going bodily through it !
 
 LORDS AND LADIES. 229 
 
 Drawing him high and dry, they all pro- 
 ceeded to question him vigorously. In the 
 excitement — which is admirable physic, admin- 
 istered at the proper moment — Mr. Augustus 
 Spooner was beginning to rally from the 
 depressing effects of his headache, and he 
 asked after his Arabella with quite as much 
 eagerness as any of the others. 
 
 They had pronounced the old man as 
 rotten in personal appearance, his boat as 
 rotten, and they now saw that he was still 
 more rotten in intellects. At the same time, 
 he was undergoing a trying ordeal even for a 
 man whose brains were in perfect health. 
 
 So the Squire, finding nothing could be got 
 out of him, but a bewildered stare from one 
 to the other, ordered them all to be silent, 
 while he propounded one or two questions of 
 the simplest nature — such questions as the 
 most decayed brain might answer. 
 
 "Did you come from Luff?"
 
 230 LORDS AND LADIES. 
 
 " Ay ! I be just come from Luff." 
 
 ^'Did the ladies send you?" 
 
 "Anan." 
 
 "Did the people at Luff send you?" 
 
 "The wimmen folk? Ay, her did send I!" 
 
 "Which? which? Eliz— ? Mrs. Joscelyn ?— 
 Mrs. Spooner?— eh? eh?" 
 
 No answer; it was clear the old man would 
 only answer one at a time. 
 
 " What sort of woman sent you here ?" 
 
 " Her be a pratty-spooken wooman." 
 
 " Elizabeth !— Arabella !— that pretty Kate !" 
 
 "Her be the cook, her did tell I." 
 
 "Susan! oh! oh! oh!" 
 
 " What did she send you here for ?" 
 
 "Wi' herrings!" 
 
 " And you brought no message ?" 
 
 " Anan." 
 
 " Xone of the others gave you a message 
 for us?" 
 
 " Na."
 
 LORDS AND LADIES. 231 
 
 "Did you see them?" 
 
 " Ay, twa leddies, twa gurls, a bit lassie, 
 and cook !" 
 
 "Were tliey happy? Did they seem cheer- 
 ful?" 
 
 " Ay ! ay ! skeery as larks ! " 
 
 "Have you no letter?" 
 
 "Anan." 
 
 "Did they write?" 
 
 " Ou ay ! a bit paper !" 
 
 "Where — where is it? — who is it for? — what 
 is it about ? — never was such a slow old man !" 
 
 At last the precious document appeared. It 
 was addressed to no one. The Squire opened 
 it, by force of will and character. 
 
 "Don't give the old man what he asks 
 for his herrings ; a penny a piece is quite 
 sufficient." 
 
 That was the document — nothing more ! 
 
 Certainly the ladies had thought of tlicoi, 
 for thev had sent the old man to them ; but
 
 232 LORDS AND LADIES. 
 
 only to think of their pockets — only to warn 
 them of a treachery in the matter of herrings 
 — merely to save them a few pence ! 
 
 The Squire showed his lordly disgust by 
 chucking the old man half-a-crown, and walk- 
 ing off without the slightest regard as to 
 whether he got any herrings at all. 
 
 Sir George soon followed, after extracting 
 every morsel of intellect left in the old man's 
 brains. 
 
 Captain Crabshawe bargained stoutly, and 
 was the only one who looked upon the unfor- 
 tunate document with a friendly eye. 
 
 The sight of the herrings, or the disappoint- 
 ment, brought back all Spooner's bad symptoms. 
 He retired from the scene of action worse 
 than ever. 
 
 King Crab, having made a capital bargain, 
 which caused hoary tears of avarice to steal 
 down the old man's cheeks, went after the 
 shooters, leaving Frank in sole possession of
 
 LORDS AND LADIES. 233 
 
 herrings, the rotten old man, and his rotten 
 old boat. 
 
 "Now," said that wide-awake young gentle- 
 man, " here is another half-crown for you ; 
 but sit down, and do to those herrings what 
 is necessary before you fry them for supper." 
 
 It was wonderful how the sight of money 
 sharpened up the old gentleman's brains. He 
 out with the necessary implement from some 
 extraordinary hole in his boat, and set to 
 work at once. Meantime, Frank went to the 
 house, and brought him back an excellent 
 refection in the shape of a bone of ham, 
 a lump of bread, and a bottle of beer." 
 
 " Now," said he, " all this is youi*s if you 
 give me an exact description of all you saw 
 at Luff." 
 
 Frank did not think the news he extracted 
 too dearly bought, little as it was. At least 
 they were all well and blooming — at least 
 they were happy and contented.
 
 234 LORDS AND LADIES. 
 
 ^*The girls wor a sing-ging like May-birds, 
 and they was a-chasing and a-running for 
 vera fun-like, and they was a-smiling and a- 
 larfing just like pussie-cats." 
 
 At last this rotten old man, with his rotten 
 old boat, bid farewell, and Frank began to 
 remember his duties. 
 
 He ran back to the house, and found Sam 
 snoring before the kitchen fire ; while Scnittles 
 was most certainly in the very act of picking 
 the lock of the door of their small cellar. 
 
 In vain he declared, 
 
 '' He wor merely iling it, as t' Squire had 
 sich a mortal trubble a-opening of she." 
 
 Not a thing done ; no beds made, the 
 breakfast all lying about — and the whole place 
 ])recisely as they left it ! 
 
 On remonstrating with Sam, he turned 
 sulky; upon which, the flow of amiability 
 running with so swift a current through the 
 frame of Mr. Summers suddenly stopped.
 
 LORDS AND LADIES. 235 
 
 When a good-natured person gets into a 
 rage, it is, as all the world knows, a very 
 serious matter. Sam was perfectly astounded. 
 No roaring of the Squire's, no bad language 
 of the Captain's, no irritation on the part of 
 liis master, ever produced such an effect on 
 his activity. That so mild, so pleasant-spoken, 
 so sweet-tempered a gentleman should " cuss — " 
 But it is not fair to Frank to enter into a 
 minute discription of his language and deport- 
 ment on this memorable occasion. 
 
 Besides, we must remember he had experi- 
 enced a severe disappointment. That rotten 
 old man in his rotten old boat had given 
 him more anguish and pain of heart than 
 could have been supposed possible in such 
 decayed things. 
 
 But, v/hatever he might have been led to 
 say in this unfortunate moment, Sam felt he 
 spoke the truth when he declared Sir George 
 would discharge him if he (Mr. Summers)
 
 236 LORDS AND LADIES. 
 
 chose to demand it of him, and he worked 
 like a horse on the very suf^gestion ; while 
 Scruttles made hideous and frantic efforts to 
 obhterate from the mind of Summers any un- 
 pleasant idea of his honesty. 
 
 "When a quiet cove gits 'is blude hup, 
 Sam, hit be a caution. Leastways, they allers 
 keps their wurd. They be so unkimmon 
 pious, they be; if they prummis as they'll 
 heat yer 'ed hoff, they'll do hit, no matter 
 'ow. Now, here's t' Squire; why, lor-a-mercy, 
 he maoy a-swear 'isself blind, and there's an 
 hend hont. But blest if hi don't think as 
 yon Summerty ool do hall he sais, and ha 
 deel more!" 
 
 The consequence of these feelings on the 
 part of the two servants was that they exerted 
 themselves to the utmost, and soon regained 
 their lost ground. 
 
 Pleased at their efforts, at the probable pros- 
 pect of being able to provide a decent dinner,
 
 LORDS AND LADIES. 237 
 
 though there was but Httle in the larder, 
 Mr. Frank relaxed a little in his stern demean- 
 our. He even went so far as to take Sam 
 into his confidence, who also let him into his, 
 which was, that his general stupidity, his care- 
 lessness, idleness, and entire absence of any 
 good quality, were all assumed. He had no 
 idea of his master's shutting himself up in an 
 " hisland," with nothing to eat or drink, or 
 any fit company to speak to. 
 
 " Not a pettercoat hany way near the place, 
 Mr. Summers — sir." 
 
 " Very true, Sam ; but here we are going 
 to stay for a whole month, and if you don't 
 choose to exert yourself, and do your duty, 
 why, your master will discharge you. He is 
 not likely to lose his bet because his servant 
 is impudent enough to dare to have an 
 opinion of his own." 
 
 '^Very true, Mr. Summers, sir. I axes yer 
 pardon, sir; of coorsc, Sir George, 'aving a
 
 238 LORDS AND LADIES. 
 
 bet, must win 'is bet, Mr. Summers, sir; and 
 I'll back him through thick and thin. But 
 it's that there conwict as disgruntles me, Mr. 
 Summers, sir. He don't agree with me, sir — 
 my constitootion his poot hout by him, Mr 
 Summers, sir." 
 
 "You won't have to bear with him long, 
 Sam, I am certain. He will show his true 
 colours soon." 
 
 "Very true, sir. Depend upon it, Mr. 
 Summers, sir, has hi will do my best to give 
 satisfaction, sir." 
 
 "That's all 1 want, Sam." 
 
 So this evening, after (as we have seen) 
 very stormy weather among them, w^e leave 
 our dear Puffites in that happy glow of heart, 
 occasioned by the magic words — "Forgive and 
 forget." 
 
 They were more in love with their life of 
 freedom than ever — more pleased wdth them- 
 selves and each other. Also the dinner made
 
 LORDS AND LADIES. 239 
 
 of nothing was capital. Lots of herrings, with 
 plates of fried onions, that Scruttles was an 
 adept at serving hot. Beef cutlets taken from 
 the under side of the sirloin ; Irish stew made 
 out of the scrag end of the neck of mutton, 
 and an omelette handsomely made and tossed 
 up by Sam, as a pleasing surprise to Mr. 
 Summers. 
 
 Never were they so jovial — never had they 
 cracked so many jokes, poking fun at each 
 other without fear of a quarrel. But the 
 crowning speech of the evening came from 
 King Crab : 
 
 " Well, I am glad we have heard that the 
 ladies are well and happy, poor things !"
 
 240 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 Extract from the Luff Journal. 
 
 "I HAD no idea that we were going to be 
 so happy on this island. It lias been always 
 my opinion that for true enjoyment there 
 ought to be a proper mixture of both sexes 
 in society. The conventionalisms of each are 
 so apt to increase without this mingling to- 
 gether, that I have held the company of petti- 
 coats only as insipid. There are certain 
 feminalities among us that, indulged in, amount, 
 in the mischief they do, to the magnitude of 
 crimes.
 
 LORDS AND LADIES. 241 
 
 ^'I am sorry to allow this of my own sex, 
 but I have no doubt that a frank member 
 of the other will be as ready to confess he 
 sees as much evil in men's society where 
 there are no females, as I see in ours with- 
 out men. 
 
 "Having come to Luff with this opinion 
 firmly settled in my mind — having voluntarily 
 given myself up for a whole month only to 
 the society of my own sex — I feel much 
 pride in recording that I never was happier 
 or more contented. It is perhaps rath.er too 
 soon to give a decided opinion, as we have 
 been here but five days ; nevertheless, being 
 upon promise to write my experiences as they 
 occur, I can only say what has happened, 
 namely, that each day has been merrier than 
 the last. 
 
 " We have all shaken into our places. ]My 
 companions win my love and gratitude 
 by their studious compliance with my wishes ; 
 
 VOL. L * R
 
 242 LORDS AND LADIES. 
 
 we have so much to do, we are never idle, 
 and some of our duties are so novel, they 
 please us by the very contrast they present 
 to us. 
 
 "In addition to all this, there is something both 
 healthy and exhilarating in our present life. 
 Every breath we draw is accompanied by 
 that subtle essence of the happiness of living 
 and existing which gives so much buoyancy 
 to the frame, and which none but the perfectly 
 healthy ever feel. 
 
 "We rival with each other as to who is to 
 be in the sea first; we breakfast at eight; by 
 ten o'clock our palace is all in perfect order, 
 dinner settled, and no care on our mind^ 
 but that of imbibing and imparting fresh 
 knowledge to each other. We discover so 
 much that is curious and hitherto unknown, 
 that our studies are as entertaining as a ro- 
 mance. 
 
 " At one we dine ; at three, our house again
 
 LORDS AND LADIES. 243 
 
 in order, we go out, and pursue our studies 
 by the sea- shore. Here we make discoveries 
 in the earth, the sea, the air, that leads even 
 my volatile Bessie to reflect. And she learns 
 with pleasure what she formerly regarded as an 
 irksome task. 
 
 "Not all my lectures could fix on her mind 
 the sublimity of Milton's blank verse. She 
 required a rhjme to remember any poetry. 
 Now, only this morning, as she watched the 
 little floating clouds, like the dropt garments 
 from an angel's form, reflecting their fleecy 
 lightness on the sea's mirror — when she noticed 
 the wonderful regularity of the little gentle 
 waves, laying their creamy fringe at her feet 
 — the beautiful contrast of their colour, with 
 the tawny sand, its picturesque ornamenting 
 of shells, sea-weed, pebbles, and ocean trea- 
 sures — I heard her murmur to herself, 
 
 ' These are thy wonders ; 
 Almighty ! thine this universal frame !' 
 
 R 2
 
 244 LORDS AND LADIES. 
 
 And her vexation when this evening there 
 steamed into Exe Bay a huge double-fun- 
 nelled steamer, which made such a commotion 
 before she settled herself in her anchorage, that 
 the little waves hurried one after another in 
 heedless haste, and threw themselves, as it 
 were, for protection from some sea-monster, on 
 to our little island. For my part, I do not 
 think she mars the scene. She is the living 
 link between us and the world. She has 
 placed herself there, midway between us and 
 the other island of Kibble. Her grand presence 
 imposes a sort of calm and confidence; mar- 
 vellous as is her structure, her size, her 
 power, yet a silken thread seemed to guide 
 her in and out among the islands. 
 
 "To be sure, her smoke was ugly and black, 
 but that has now floated far # away, and hangs 
 a long black line upon the most distant 
 horizon, and a little feathery cloud, as 
 light as those angel garments, alone floats up
 
 LORDS AND LADIES. 245 
 
 into the deep blue sky of niglit. Her 
 light is like a friendly beacon, and her tall 
 and faultless spars, seen through the moon- 
 beams, seem like warriors guarding us in our 
 sleep. 
 
 "But I have not finished our day. 
 
 "We wander home again at six, to prepare 
 for tea. At this time, those who have dis- 
 covered treasures arrange them and put them 
 away. 
 
 " Clara adds some new treasure to her tank 
 of molluscs, and Kate sorts her shells, and 
 Bessie presses her sea-weed, leaving to me 
 and Arabella the preparations for tea. This 
 meal is the only one which is entrusted to 
 our charge. The girls and Susan do all the 
 necessary work of the other two. 
 
 "So we endeavour to show our appreciation 
 of the trust by various little surprises, and a 
 great attempt at decoration. Sometimes each 
 has her pat of butter placed on a green
 
 246 LORDS AND LADIES. 
 
 leaf, of great freshness and beauty ; again, by 
 each plate there may be a little nosegay, 
 wherein the sand-rose, carefully denuded of 
 its clusters of thorns, adds a wonderful grace 
 and beauty to the somewhat meagre collection 
 of sea-flowers. 
 
 " Sometimes we break out in a fine display 
 of cakes, and as for our skill in shaping 
 butter, it almost equals the art of Chantrey. 
 Birds' nests with little yellow^ ^ggs, baskets 
 wdth tiny pretended apples and pears, twisted 
 serpents, and true lovers' knots, in every 
 variety. It is really quite an anticipated plea- 
 sure among the young ones, conjecturing under 
 what form this desirable condiment will be 
 offered to them. To be sure, such pleasures 
 are very simple, but we have Nature as our 
 great mother-teaclier, so we laugh and are 
 happy. 
 
 ''After tea, we stroll out again, and in tlie 
 quiet silent twilight we discourse largely of
 
 LORDS AND LADIES. 247 
 
 matters we do not even think of in the 
 broad dayhght. 
 
 '' We conjecture all sorts of things of the 
 worlds that live up in the stars ; we hazard 
 some mysterious idea that was born in and 
 nursed in our minds, regarding unseen things. 
 We become confidential, and^ drawing back 
 from the pellucid gleam of a moonbeam, we 
 tell of feelings that hitherto have only been 
 known to God and ourselves. And when our 
 hearts become full, and words are wanting to 
 express the thoughts burning within us, we 
 muse, and silently speak- to God and the 
 night. 
 
 "Suddenly a joyful bark prepares us for the 
 coming of Runa, sent by Susan to tell us it 
 is nine o'clock. ^lignon springs out of he-r 
 mistress's lap, where she has been snoring in 
 truest dog repose, and shrieks a little welcome. 
 The two, matching in kind but belying it 
 in •ci])pearance, proceed to have a game of
 
 248 LORDS AND LADIES. 
 
 play, which lasts all the way home. They 
 are so different in every respect, that the 
 great double-funnelled war-steamer, just come 
 to anchor in the bay, might as well single 
 out a little coble and have a romp about in 
 the sea with her. 
 
 "Now we have music. Bessie coaxes some 
 one to play chess with her. I am writing. 
 The gentle but solemn feelings of the twilight 
 have not lost their power. We welcome the 
 hour of prayer as the proper finish to a day 
 of calm happiness, and we lose the fear of 
 being lonely and somewhat helpless in the 
 perception of God's presence. Night is but 
 the unfolding of His wings, beneath which we 
 sleep as children guarded by their mothers. 
 
 (Signed) "Elizabeth Joscelyn." 
 
 "I cordially subscribe to every remark made 
 by Mrs. Joscelyn in this journal. I never 
 was so happy or contented. Indeed, I never
 
 LOEDS AND LADIES. 249 
 
 felt so well — and I begin to think that per- 
 haps one may coddle too much. Nevertheless, 
 I hope Augustus has been careful not to wet 
 his feet, and that he remembered to put on 
 his flannel waistcoats. Poor Augustus! I won- 
 der how he gets on ! Badly, I should say. 
 Under no circumstances can I imagine Cap- 
 tain Crabshawe's company making up for 
 mine. No, indeed ! I am not naturally vain, 
 but when Augustus says from his heart he 
 prefers that man to me, then — we shall see. 
 I make no complaint, and don't intend to do 
 so; but a worse temper, or an uglier man, I 
 never saw. 
 
 "Mrs. Joscelyn says I must not be personal, 
 and the above sentence must be scratched out 
 as too much so. But we promised to write 
 the truth, and I write the truth. If any- 
 body is offended, all I can say is, so much 
 the better for me and Augustus. 
 
 "Mrs. Joscelyn has omitted to describe a
 
 250 LORDS AND LADIES. 
 
 most fearful alarm that we had yesterday. 
 
 ''I was looking out of my bedroom window, 
 when I saw a boat approaching with a man 
 in it. I screamed with surprise and rushed 
 downstairs. ^ Hide ! hide !' I exclaimed, ' a 
 boat — a boat is coming — a man in it — per- 
 haps two or three more lying at the bottom. 
 We are lost! — lost!' 
 
 " I nearly fainted, screaming ' Augustus ! 
 Augustus!' Yes, in that hour I felt, Augustus, 
 what it was to have a manly protector — and 
 you were absent ! Mrs. Joscelyn and Susan 
 went to face the enemy, apparently without 
 fear. Clara followed with Runa. In a few- 
 moments Susan returned for a dish — laugh- 
 ing ! 
 
 " The boat contained only one man, desirous 
 of selling us some herrings. 
 
 ^'I went down to see him — he certainly was 
 an old man — a very old man ; there was 
 nothing to fear from him. As Clara said, he
 
 LORDS AND LADIES. 251 
 
 was the most uninteresting old thing ever 
 seen, wholly given up to avarice. I shall 
 never forget his disappointment at not being 
 able to deceive Susan. 
 
 ^' ' There, mum !' said she to me, ' he had 
 the imperance to 'ax me five shillin' for that 
 lot. "No," says I, "may I niver see a 'erring 
 again if I gives yer more nor two." And two 
 he tuk. Missus is avising him to go to Puff ; 
 being as master is clean mad on 'errings, and 
 will think nofiin of eatincr a dizin. And he be 
 agoing. But I've got Miss Bessie to writ a 
 word to her pa of his hextortionary, I have. 
 Noffin aggerwates me as hextortiony.' 
 
 " Is it not strange that servants will use 
 hard words, without knowing how to pronounce 
 them — or their meaning, even ? The first 
 morning after we arrived I felt very far 
 from well, and was inclined to lie in betl, 
 but that I fancied Mrs. Joscelyn would be 
 nervous; no doctor to be had — no good advice.
 
 252 LORDS AND LADIES. 
 
 So I exerted myself, and was nearly dressed 
 "vvhen Susan came in. 
 
 " ^ Well, mum, so you be up at last — and 
 very moosily you do luke — to be sure ! ' 
 
 *' ^ Moosily ! Susan, what do you mean ? ' 
 
 " ' Well, mum ! I means as you do luke 
 good-for-nothing like ; and there's mistress 
 have been in the sea, and she have dressed 
 the breekwist, and she and Miss Bessie have 
 made their beds and redded their room, and 
 they be luiking just for all the world as fresh 
 as currant-jelly, mum !' 
 
 '^I own the idea of makincr my own bed 
 was not pleasant to me ; but as we need not 
 tell any one of it, perhaps it does not matter. 
 I should have thought another Servian t — but 
 I must not forget a most interesting story — 
 dear Clara's. I know she will forgive me, for 
 she has a noble heart, therefore I will con- 
 fess that there were one or two little things 
 in her character I did not like. She permits
 
 LORDS AND LADIES. 253 
 
 me to write down her story ; I wish to keep 
 it by me, that it may remind me now and 
 then of her true worth. 
 
 "And as it is scarcely possible to have more 
 to relate in the monotonous lives that we lead, 
 but that we are wondrously happy, remarkably 
 so, I shall conclude my little addition to the 
 journal by merely stating that I had another 
 serious alarm this evening. A great huge 
 smoking, paddling, boiling steamer came into 
 the bay this evening, rushing about with such 
 speed, strength, and recklessness, I could not 
 help fancying she would bump against our 
 island and knock it over. However, there she 
 is now, lying as still and calm as if asleep. 
 Over the water comes the sound of voices, 
 and her watch-light is reflected on the ocean, 
 far away. She really looks like a friend 
 watching us."
 
 254 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 Clara's history — written down from 
 memory by mrs. spooner. 
 
 " Clara's parents were well-born, and her 
 father was wealthy. Her mother had very 
 few near relations, and only brought her 
 husband a fortune of one thousand pounds. 
 But that was not considered an impediment 
 to the marriage, as Mr. Severn had enough 
 for the style in which they desired to live. 
 
 ^' Fifty years ago money went further than 
 it goes now, and people with a thousand or 
 fifteen hundred a year were enabled to live 
 as well as people do now with twice that 
 income.
 
 LORDS AND LADIES. 255 
 
 " Mr. Severn had three brothers younger than 
 hmiself ; if he had no son his estate was to go to 
 his next brother, and then the entail ceased. 
 He could leave it to whom he pleased — male 
 or female. 
 
 "Clara was a first child, and when she was 
 three years old, and no companion came, no 
 heir, !Mr. Severn bethought him that he must 
 make some provision for her, besides the 
 thousand pounds that was her mother's. 
 
 "He had made all the necessary preliminaries 
 for insuring his life, for he had no power 
 to assign her an annuity from the estate, 
 when the promise of an heir made him 
 pause. 
 
 "Three times in the course of the next five 
 years did his wife bear him a dead child, 
 which was so great a vexation to him, that, 
 catchino; a low fever then £<;oino; about the 
 country, he was in no condition of mind or 
 body to fight against it.
 
 256 LORDS AND LADIES. 
 
 "Had he been in good heart, cheery and 
 hopeful, there was no doubt but that he 
 might have recovered. But he was no 
 sooner taken ill, than he gave himself up to 
 die, saying that his child was all along des- 
 tined to be a beggar and an orphan, and a 
 beggar she would become — which was the 
 case — for he died hopeless and desponding, 
 not even endeavouring to make matters better 
 by sending for his next brother to entreat 
 him to befriend his little orphan. 
 
 "His wife followed him within a month. 
 Her health had long been broken ; some 
 insidious disease sapping away not only the 
 foundations of her own life, but destroying 
 the germ of life in the unborn before they 
 had even seen the light. 
 
 " Mr. Ambrose Severn, the second brother and 
 heir, was an eccentric, strange individual — consi- 
 dered to be almost insane by the rest of the family. 
 
 "He was a bachelor, and lived alone and
 
 LORDS AND LADIES. 257 
 
 secluded in a little cottage on the coast ; 
 where his sole amusement seemed to be to 
 examine the contents of all that the fishing 
 cobles brought home. 
 
 "He wore a long beard, which was a rare 
 thing in those days, and he was very untidy 
 in his habits and person. 
 
 "Altogether his family cared not to speak 
 of him as belonging to them, for they were 
 truly ashamed of him and his odd ways. 
 
 " Nevertheless, the fishermen and the poor 
 about always gave him a good word for 
 kindness of heart, though they acknowledged, 
 
 f^^He worn't respectable loike.' 
 
 "K^ow, he was heir of the Oldburn estate, 
 and the guardian of a little spoilt girl eight 
 years old. For Clara says no parents ever 
 lavished more fondness on a child than hers 
 did. She was in all respects treated like a 
 little heiress, and not only denied nothing that 
 she might fancy, but was never contradicted. 
 VOL. I. S
 
 258 LORDS AND LADIES. 
 
 She was a higli-spirited, healthy, romping girl, 
 and had only one wish iingratified, namely, 
 that she was not a boy. 
 
 " When Mr. Ambrose Severn arrived, he 
 found her screaming with part passion and 
 part anguish. Her mother was too ill to see 
 or soothe her, and her uncles Charles and 
 Edwin were counselling that she should be 
 well whipt. They were both married men, 
 with children of their own, and both in needy 
 circumstances. They were very humble and 
 fawning to the brother they had hitherto de- 
 spised, and they showed him various letters of 
 their elder brother's, wherein he had sent 
 them timely presents of mone}', and had 
 always been most liberal and kind to them. 
 
 "If this w^as meant as a hint to Mr. 
 Ambrose, he did not take it. Even after 
 four days, when the funeral was over, and 
 there was no excuse for them to remain longer, 
 he does not appear to have said a single
 
 LORDS AND LADIES. 259 
 
 kind word to anybody — not even the widow ; 
 for though he told her she need not leave 
 Oldburn, he added : 
 
 " ' You won't trouble me long, you will 
 soon be by Giles.' 
 
 "Which words proving true, once more the 
 three brothers met to lay the wife by the 
 husband. On this occasion Mr. Ambrose said, 
 
 "'Which of you will take charge of that 
 
 girir 
 
 "They both remained silent. 
 
 " ' She has from her mother one thousand 
 pounds; this will produce, at four per cent 
 (if w^e can get it), about forty pounds a 
 year. I will make the allowance up to one 
 hundred a-year if you will carry her off 
 at once.' 
 
 "They both exclaimed, eagerly, that they 
 would take her there and then. 
 
 " ' You can't both have her — but take her year 
 and year about.' 
 
 s 2
 
 260 LOKDS AND LADIES. 
 
 " And so thus it happened that this unfortunate 
 Clara, high-spirited and inteUigent beyond her 
 years, and yet a spoih darUng, was suddenly 
 given up into the hands of those who cared no 
 more for her than that she brought them one 
 hundred a-year. I am sure there were tears 
 in all our eyes, and I sobbed outright, as she 
 gave an account of her reception at her first new 
 home. I feel certain she exaggerated nothing; 
 she has too fine a heart to say even as much 
 as she might. 
 
 " Poor little desolate child ! — sick at heart, 
 pining for one kind word, just torn from 
 everything she most loved, from all she had ever 
 known, and taken from a beautiful and happy 
 home to a wretched little mean villa in the 
 environs of London, what fate could have 
 been more forlorn? 
 
 " They arrived late at night, and of course, 
 though Mrs. Charles Severn expected her hus- 
 band, time had not been given to tell of the child.
 
 LORDS AND LADIES. 261 
 
 "She was one of those poor, weak, muddling 
 women that haye no idea of how to act under 
 a surprise. 
 
 "^Dear me, Charles!' she said, ^what is that? ' 
 
 " ^ Our little niece Clara.' 
 
 "^And what is she here for?' 
 
 "^She is going to live with us.' 
 
 "^Dear me!' 
 
 " Though we all laughed as Clara told of 
 this scene, and mimicked her aunt's dull quiet 
 tone, I felt I could have beaten the woman. 
 There she sat staring at the dear little 
 creatiore, until her husband said sharply, 
 
 "'Well, are you not going to give the child 
 some tea, and order her a bed?' 
 
 " ' Your tea is ready, Charles !' 
 
 " ' The same will do for us both, I suppose ; 
 ring the bell for it. And now, where is she 
 to sleep V 
 
 " ' I don't know, I'm sure ! Can she sleep 
 with ours V
 
 262 LORDS AND LADIES. 
 
 "'They are three m a bed now, ain't theyf 
 
 "'Yes, but there is Bob!" 
 
 "'Bob has only a sofa.' 
 
 " ' Tliere's the loft !' 
 
 "'But no bed in it.' 
 
 " ' And the parlour !' 
 
 " ' Pooh, pooh ! do exert yourself, and go up- 
 stairs and consult nurse.' 
 
 "Before Clara had swallowed a cup of tea, 
 the only thing she could take, a great bold- 
 looking woman burst into the room and 
 said, 
 
 " ' I didn't hire myself to wait on hany- 
 body's child, sir ; I expect my wages riz if 
 r am to be bothered with more nor I 
 hengaged for!' 
 
 "'We will talk of that to-morrow, nurse. 
 Meantime, prepare a bed ; the child is tired.' 
 
 " ' Missus says she is to sleep with me, 
 sirf 
 
 "'I will not!' interrupted Clara.
 
 LORDS AND LADIES. 263 
 
 "" ' And I will not neither, Miss — you. may 
 take my word for it.' 
 
 " It was more than an hour before any- 
 thing was settled betw^een the nurse and her 
 mistress, during which time Clara roamed 
 through the little dirty tea-caddy of a house, 
 and sat down to cry with horror at the 
 prospect before her. 
 
 " In a common turn-down bedstead lay 
 three ugly children sound asleep ; the room 
 itself was so small, it was nearly filled by 
 the bed. In an adjoining room w^as a simi- 
 lar bedstead, on which the nurse slept. Clara 
 peeped into a sort of odd closet on the 
 stairs, and saw a great huge boy, with staring 
 eyes and frightful shocks of red hair, lying 
 on a sofa, from which the clothes seemed ever 
 to be falling off. 
 
 " The fate of the poor little girl that night 
 was to fold herself up in a warm shawl, and 
 dose before the nursery fire.
 
 264 LORDS AND LADIES. 
 
 "But the miseries of that time were no- 
 thing to what followed. 
 
 " Accustomed to be nicely washed and 
 dressed every day, the poor child felt all 
 the horrors of utter neglect. In addition to 
 which, all her clothes were taken from her, and 
 those that her young cousins could wear were 
 given to them. Day after day she had to 
 put on the same things, until she loathed to 
 dress herself in them. 
 
 " It was not as if in this matter she was 
 neglected and her cousins cared for. Mrs. 
 Charles was wholly without any idea of order 
 and tidiness ; in fact, she had few ideas of any 
 kind, and merely sat crouching over the fire, 
 wondering at everything. 
 
 "Economy of a sordid and unhealthy kind 
 pervaded the parlour, while the servants in- 
 dulged in wasteful extravagance in each of 
 their, departments. There were but two — both 
 of them the worst specimens of their class.
 
 LORDS AND LADIES. 265 
 
 "The year that Clara spent with this 
 wretched family was so miserable, we could 
 see her shudder at the recollection of it. And 
 she looked forward to the period of goini:; 
 into the country to her uncle Edwin's as an 
 escape from torture. 
 
 " She remembers well the bitter anger she 
 felt at being sent down to him with scarcely 
 a shoe to her feet, and with so scant a 
 modicum of clothes, that, pale, thin, and 
 miserable as she was, she could lift the little 
 bundle with ease. 
 
 " Her uncle Charles had given orders that 
 such should be the case ; he had even ab- 
 stracted something from the tiny bundle as 
 unnecessary. 
 
 " ^ Ah !' he said, ' Edwin never sends me a 
 goose or a turkey, or a crock of butter from 
 his flourishing farm; he shall furnish the child 
 with a good stock of clothes against she re- 
 turns.'
 
 2 06 LORDS AND LADIES. 
 
 " It would seem that the one brother knew 
 tiie other welL For though her uncle Edwin 
 bought her new and warm clothing, she 
 heard him tell his wife to be careful to lock 
 up what the child brought with her, so that 
 she might return to ^ Charles' just as he sent 
 her to him. 
 
 " Nevertheless, in the more healthy and 
 wholesome life she led at Newlands Farm, 
 she grew so quickly that she could not wear 
 the things, in spite of any order. 
 
 " Though she was happier by comparison 
 with the Edwin family than with the Charles's, 
 it was only by comparison. Mr. Edwin had 
 married very much beneath him, and though 
 his wife was an excellent farmer's wife, she 
 was a rough uncouth woman at the best. 
 And unfortunately her children partook of her 
 nature more than their father's. The little 
 delicate, gently-nurtured girl, refined and sensi- 
 tive beyond her years, had to endure much
 
 LORDS AND LADIES. 2G7 
 
 misery at the hands of her vulgar aunt and her 
 rude boisterous children. She was an object of 
 keen envy and dislike on the part of them 
 all, their mother included. For her uncle 
 Edwin, struck with the contrast between his own 
 children and the little lady-hke Clara, was 
 always drawing comparisons. This not only 
 made him harsh and displeased with his own 
 children, but angry and sharp with his wife. 
 Though the fault was his own, that he had 
 married beneath him, he visited the effects 
 of it on his wife and children ; while they 
 in their tm^n resented all his ill-humour upon 
 the unhappy little Clara. 
 
 " With no companion but an old sheep-dog, 
 that was useless about the farm, the poor 
 little thing would beg a bottle of milk and a 
 bit of bread from the dairy-girl, and wander 
 away into the woods and by the river the 
 live-long day, creeping in at night and run- 
 ning up to her little bed to hide herself there.
 
 268 LORDS AND LADIES. 
 
 "It was durincT this period that she made 
 herself so well acquainted with all those secrets 
 of natural history with which she delights us 
 now. 
 
 " I must pause for a minute to express my 
 astonishment at the wonderful things she not 
 only tells us of, but shows. 
 
 "I thought her idea of the turf gemmed 
 with flowers being nature's tapestry, very pretty ; 
 and when I questioned anything in nature being 
 so beautiful as art could make it, she pointed 
 out our little dell with its seven springs of 
 water, urging me to say what in art was 
 more lovely. I could think of nothing then. 
 Mrs. Joscelyn says that art has so far the 
 advantage of nature, that it need copy only 
 what is beautiful. At present I wonder if 
 I, situated as Clara was, should have turned 
 for comfort to such things? 
 
 "But to go on with her story. 
 
 " After being banded from one to the other
 
 LORDS AND LADIES. 269 
 
 in this fashion, until she could endure it no 
 longer, she took the resolution to write to her 
 uncle Ambrose, and without complaining of 
 her miserable life, simply asked to be sent to 
 a school^ as she had never been taught a 
 single thing of any kind at either Hume 
 Villa or Newlands Farm. 
 
 " She had no answer to her letter, but at 
 the end of a fortnight a cab stopping at the 
 door, an elderly mild-looking woman in specta- 
 cles stepped out of it, and inquiring for Mr. 
 Charles Potts, showed him a letter from his 
 brother Ambrose, wherein he desired their niece 
 Clara to be given up to the care of Miss 
 Wailes, governess of a small girls-school at 
 Putney. 
 
 "There was, of course, a great row made, 
 and it was doubtless soon known to both her 
 uncles that Clara had written to her uncle 
 ^Ambrose, for she received very harsh letters 
 from them both.
 
 270 LORDS AND LADIES. 
 
 "The school to which she went was by no 
 means fitted for a girl of her birth and talents ; 
 but Miss Wailcs was a good motherly woman, 
 and Clara, with that courage and resolution 
 which belong to all fine natures, educated her- 
 self, in spite of every impediment, by sheer 
 force of will. 
 
 "Her Christmas holidays she spent with 
 Miss Wailes, who received so much a week 
 extra for her board and lodging. Her summer 
 holidays she passed alternately at either Hume 
 Villa or Newlands Farm, where her uncle? 
 were paid in the same manner as Mis? 
 Wailes. But in no one instance did it ever 
 appear that her uncle Ambrose ever spent 
 one shilling beyond the hundred pounds ap- 
 pointed for her use. 
 
 " Thus the poor child went sadly bare of 
 even clothes, not to speak of the little simple 
 luxuries of a child's fancy. When Clara was 
 about fifteen years old, she learnt accidentally
 
 LORDS AND LADIES. 271 
 
 that her uncle Ambrose had a very great 
 dislike to her. She knew he had taken to 
 very miserly habits, and the eccentricities of 
 former years had almost become sins. But 
 why he should dislike a girl he had never 
 seen since she was eight years old, was in- 
 conceivable. She pondered over the thought 
 for some time, and came to the conclusion that 
 his mind was being prejudiced against her by 
 her other uncles. 
 
 " They no doubt speculated as to who should 
 be his heir — for if he went on leading the life 
 lie now did, it would not last very long. 
 
 " Under these circumstances, she wrote a little 
 simple girl's letter, saying that she liad heard 
 he did not like her, for which she could not 
 but be very sorry, and she wished he would 
 give her some opportunity to remove the im- 
 pression. She received no answer to this ; but 
 one day being at Hume Villa, she heard her 
 cousin Anne laufjhino; immoderately at an oldisli
 
 272 LORDS AND LADIES. 
 
 man, who, struggling to get in at the gate, had 
 caught his coat in the latch and torn it from 
 top to bottom. His dismay and anguish were 
 so visibly expressed on his countenance, that 
 this ill-mannered girl could not help laughing. 
 
 " Clara ran out, and taking him by the hand, 
 led him into the parlour, and offered to mend 
 his coat as well as she could. 
 
 "He was a miserable-looking old object, 
 though scarcely so old as weak and sickly. She 
 folded a cloak round him, and sat down to 
 stitch up the rotten old coat — only interrupted 
 now and then by Anne and Sarah, her cousins, 
 wdio came in by turns to laugh at her. Also 
 she was confused by the watchful eyes of the 
 old man. 
 
 " Suddenly she threw down her work ; she 
 ran to him and said, 
 
 " ^ Uncle — Uncle Ambrose, did you get my 
 letter?' 
 
 " ^ So you know me^ child V
 
 LORDS AND LADIES. 273 
 
 " ^ Yes ; but you have now no beard — you 
 looked like papa — my dear, dear papa T 
 
 " 'Well, since you know me, don't tell the 
 others. I'll e'en go home again, now I have seen 
 you.' 
 
 " ' And did you come only for that ? Oh ! 
 uncle, let me go home with you, and nurse 
 you — you look so ill, and have such a cough.' 
 
 " 'But you are a fine lady.' 
 
 " ' Am I ? But I will love you, if you will 
 let me.' 
 
 " 'You have a bad temper.' 
 
 " 'I believe it is not good, but I should never 
 be disrespectful to you.' 
 
 " ' You are very extravagant.' 
 
 " ' How can I be that, uncle ? Once I had 
 a whole shilling.' 
 
 " ' How did you spend it V 
 
 "'I bought Miss Wailes a little ink-bottle 
 with fourpence, and if you please, uncle, the 
 remaining eightpence went partly in a pair of 
 VOL. I. T
 
 274 LORDS AND LADIES. 
 
 gloves, in which to go to church, and — and 
 a Httle bit of pink ribbon to tie round my 
 throat. I never had any ribbon before.' 
 
 *' ^ xlnd how many silk frocks have you T 
 
 " ' Oh ! uncle, a silk frock ! — that is amusing ; 
 I have only two frocks in all the world — one 
 is a linsey, for which aunt gave eightpence a 
 yard two years ago, and it is so small — oh ! 
 so small, I am ashamed to wear it — and the 
 other is this.' 
 
 "And she spread out to his gaze a thread- 
 bare, faded, old stuff gown, that no servant would 
 have w^orn. 
 
 " * Then you are sly, and tell falsehoods.' 
 
 " To this Clara made no reply. She took 
 up the coat, and though her face burnt with 
 blushes of indignation, she said nothing. 
 
 "At length the coat was finished, and she 
 held it up for him to see. lie silently put 
 it on, coughing painfully all the time. 
 
 " * Uncle Ambrose,' she said gently, ' let me
 
 LOKDS AND LADIES. 275 
 
 bring you a cup of tea. My uncle and aunt 
 are not at home, but Anne has the keys.' 
 
 '^ ' I know they are out — I want no tea. 
 Here, take this.' 
 
 '^ It was a bank note. 
 
 " ' I should like it so much !' she exclaimed 
 joyfully, ' but oh ! uncle, say that you do not 
 think me sly and false f And the tears filled 
 her eyes. 
 
 "'No, my dear — but I wish your father 
 had lived.' 
 
 " ' Will you be my father ? I will love you so !' 
 
 "*I must go away now, but I will think 
 of it — meantime, buy yourself a silk frock.; 
 
 ^' ' A silk frock ! Oh ! how happy I am ! I 
 shall now be like a lady!' 
 
 " ' Which I wish you to be, my dear. A sad 
 change has come over me lately — I am not long 
 for this world.' 
 
 "'But if you will let me be your nurse I 
 will soon make you well.' 
 
 T 2
 
 276 LORDS AND LADIES. 
 
 " ^ God bless you ! my dear. I have been a 
 fool. Don't tell any one I have been here.' 
 
 " ' But that will be sly, mean, dear uncle — 
 let me tell!' 
 
 ^'^They will put me in a madhouse, per- 
 haps. Your uncles are violent men. They 
 are without scruples — they have lied about 
 you.' 
 
 *^ ' Take me home with you now. I will be 
 ready in a minute. I wdll take such care of 
 you! No one shall put you in a madhouse 
 if I am by.' 
 
 " ' Come, my dear, come — that will be the 
 very thing.' 
 
 "^I will send for a cabf 
 
 " ' Yes, my dear, yes — with a good horse. 
 Let us get away quickly!' 
 
 " Clara ran to obey him, sending the ser- 
 vant for a cab. Then folding up in a paper 
 parcel the little that she wanted, she returned 
 to her uncle again, with whom she found her
 
 LOKDS AND LADIES. 277 
 
 two cousins; they were angrily remonstrating 
 upon his staying so long in their parlour. 
 
 " ' I am going to take him away now, 
 Anne, so leave the room.' 
 
 " ' Leave the room indeed, Miss Impudence ! 
 Is that the way you speak to me, whose papa 
 keeps you out of charity !' 
 
 "^ Don't listen to what she says,' pleaded 
 Clara to her uncle, with a look on her face 
 as much as to say — ' she does not know it is 
 Uncle Ambrose she is speaking to. You 
 see,' she added with a smile, ' we are, some 
 of us, not very good-tempered.' 
 
 " He smiled too, and looked at her won- 
 drously pleasant, so that Clara hoped he did 
 not hear the two naughty girls. 
 
 "The cab now coming to the door, she 
 hastened to get him away, her ill-mannered 
 cousins following them to the very door. 
 
 "Just as they entered it, Anne espied the 
 little bundle, and cried out:
 
 278 LORDS AND LADIES. 
 
 ^' ^ Oh ! thief ! thief ! what are you taking 
 away V and pulled at her to snatch it away. 
 
 '* Then the old gentleman sternly rebuked 
 them, and said, 
 
 "^Tell your father, when he comes home, 
 that liis brother Ambrose has been here, and 
 has taken away to live with him the girl he 
 has ill-treated and malio-ned !' 
 
 o 
 
 "The cab driving away, the last Clara saw 
 of her cousins was both of them standing 
 like statues of horror, looking after the cab. 
 
 "^Now, my dear, go to the Great Western 
 Station, and take our tickets quickly for home; 
 I must get there to-night — I must get to the 
 protection of my servants and friends, and 
 my good dog, otherwise my brotliers will 
 catch me and put me into a madhouse.' 
 
 "And he trembled, as a man might do 
 shuddering with fear. 
 
 "Oh! how delighted Clara felt that at last 
 slie should see her once-loved home, the re-
 
 LORDS AND LADIES. 279 
 
 membrance of which had never left her. All 
 her past sorrows fled before the delight of the 
 anticipation. 
 
 *'Worn out with excitement and fatigue — 
 for it seemed her poor uncle had walked 
 almost all the way to town — he slept the 
 greater part of the journey. At the end of 
 two hours and a half, Clara supposed they 
 would be n earing the station that they were 
 to stop at, for of course ever^^thing was 
 greatly altered in the eight years of her 
 absence. But she did not awaken her uncle 
 in time. 
 
 "This turned out very fortunate, for it 
 seemed that her uncle Charles, coming home 
 so immediately after they left, and hearing 
 his daughters' tale, conceived the idea of 
 catching them before they should reach Old- 
 burn. He telegraphed to the proper station 
 to have them stopped, but as they did not 
 get out there, of course there was no one to
 
 280 LORDS AND LADIES. 
 
 be stopped. When he arrived by the next 
 train, accompanied by a doctor, a friend of 
 his, and a keeper from Hanwell, he learnt 
 this piece of news. Nevertheless, he took a 
 fly, and went on to Oldburn, where he heard 
 that the old Squire (as he was called) had left 
 home a fortnight before, and had not returned. 
 
 " Mr. Charles went back with his compan- 
 ions to town in a very bad way, for he con- 
 cluded that his brother and niece had in 
 reality never quitted London ; and where he 
 was to find them in that monstrous place, was 
 past his calculations. He wrote to his brother 
 Edwin to join him, that together they might 
 concert some scheme so as to separate the 
 young girl from her uncle. 
 
 "^For you may be certain that, if she lives 
 with him, she wall be sole heiress, and we 
 shall have nothing.' 
 
 "Mr. Edwin obeyed the summons, and to- 
 gether they had long consultations.
 
 LORDS AND LADIES. 281 
 
 "Meantime, Clara and her uncle stopped 
 at a station that was beyond theirs by about 
 fifteen miles. And not thinking it well for 
 her uncle to travel further that night, Clara 
 persuaded him to stay at the little inn close 
 to the railway, intending to return to their 
 proper station the next morning. But, as fate 
 would have it, they were met at the door by 
 no less a person than Mr. Joscelyn, who 
 knew Mr. Ambrose perfectly well. 
 
 "Nothing would satisfy this kind hospitable 
 man but that they should get into his car- 
 riage, then at the door, and go home with 
 him. The next day he would diive them to 
 Oldburn through the woods. 
 
 " ' You may do as you like, Ambrose,* said 
 he; ^but I am going to take my old friend 
 Giles' daughter to be introduced to my 
 wife.' 
 
 "And so they accepted the land, friendly 
 invitation.
 
 282 LORDS AND LADIES. 
 
 "And now think of Clara's happiness — 
 think of the ecstasy of being welcomed by 
 !Mrs. Joscelyn, of the beautiful room, the 
 order, the freshness, the luxury of everythincr 
 around her. How her heart leapt to meet it 
 all, as her proper sphere ! How she remem- 
 bered everything — the little niceties, the pretty 
 refinements, the delicate charms of a luxurious 
 happy English home ! 
 
 " ' But in the middle of it all,' interrupted 
 INIrs. Joscelyn, ^when every pulse was beat- 
 ing with an almost painful excitement of 
 happiness, she did not forget her sick uncle. 
 She assumed her place at once as his guar- 
 dian and nurse, and you would have supposed 
 the dear child had lived Avith him all her life, 
 so intuitively did she seem to anticipate his wishes. 
 '^ He is like papa, you know," she said. " Every- 
 thing that papa liked I remember vividly" ' 
 
 "The delight of the poor heart-sick Ambrose, 
 you may conceive; for after all, my dears, that w^as
 
 LORDS AND LADIES. 283 
 
 tlie real cause of all his eccentricities — his heart 
 was too sensitive. He confided his story to 
 Mr. Barton, the clergyman, before he died, who 
 told it to us after he was dead. He was a shy, 
 nervous boy, and as these four brothers lost 
 their mother early, they were badly brought up, 
 for their father only cared for the eldest son, 
 Giles, So Ambrose grew more shy and reserved 
 every year, just as every year he felt the more 
 necessity to have something to love. He un- 
 fortunately fell into the hands of a handsome 
 but rather forward farmer's daughter, who, 
 takincp advantac^e of his weak thouf]!;h 
 good heart, meant to end their flirtation by a 
 proper marriage. 
 
 " As is generally the case with shy natures, 
 Ambrose was very proud, and he resisted her 
 arts much longer than she expected. She re- 
 sorted to a great many. They used to meet in 
 a little wood, which, situated four miles from 
 Oldburn, was only separated from her father's
 
 284 LORDS AND LADIES. 
 
 fai'm by an orchard, a sloping meadow, and 
 the river, which was crossed by stepping-stones. 
 These were built up a good height, as the least 
 rain flooded the river, which was rather narrow 
 at this point. 
 
 '^ Amelia, or Mella, as she was usually called, 
 always crossed the stepping-stones to meet her 
 gentleman lover, and she often told him if he 
 would not marry her she would throw her- 
 self off them, and drown herself before his 
 eyes. At this he would smile, saying, ^She 
 should not drown while he was near to save 
 her.' 
 
 " One evening she almost tore from him a vow 
 never to meet her again, she was so urgent and 
 mad upon marriage. He would not consent, 
 and she became so violent, they parted on the 
 worst of terms, and she ran across the step- 
 ping-stones, as if fleeing for her life from him. 
 He saw her safely over them, and then went 
 home. For three days he never visited their
 
 LORDS AND LADIES. 285 
 
 trystincr-place. He was endeavouring to school 
 himself into giving her up. Though he had no 
 one else to turn to, he was conscious that 
 she was not the sort of person he ought to 
 have even for a friend, much less a wife. 
 They had none of them been taught any re- 
 ligion, so it was only that inherent love of 
 virtue or self-respect that urged him to go on 
 no further with this girl, to his own hurt, 
 and her ruin. 
 
 "He thought it but manly to go and tell 
 her his decision himself. He waited long in 
 the wood, but she did not come. So he de- 
 cided to cross the stepping-stones, and go to 
 seek her at her father's house. As he stepped 
 between the two middle stones, something in the 
 river attracted his attention. He looked down, and, 
 surging up through the water, the drowned 
 face of poor Mella met his own. She lay 
 there jammed in between the two stones ; he 
 gave a loud and horrified cry, wliich brought
 
 286 LORDS AND LADIES. 
 
 the farmer and liis men to the spot instantly. 
 Fortunately for Mr. Ambrose, Mella had been 
 missed by her family since the evening before, 
 and the people were all out looking for her. 
 They had seen Mr. Ambrose go into the 
 wood with his book, and they had watched 
 him cross the ford, and instantly conjectured 
 the reason of his cry. Thus he was no more 
 concerned to their minds in her dreadful 
 death, but in having found the body. He did 
 not think so himself. 
 
 ''The jury summoned by the coroner de- 
 cided that she had foolishly crossed the step- 
 ping-stones late at night, and had accidentally 
 slipped in. Perhaps she would not have been 
 drowned, but for the circumstance of being 
 jammed in between the two stones, whereby 
 she was suffocated before she could extricate 
 herself. 
 
 " But Mr. Ambrose never entertained this 
 idea for a moment in his heart. He considered
 
 LORDS AND LADIES. 287 
 
 himself answerable for her death, and no other 
 mode of atonement suggestmg itself to his 
 mhid but the heathen one of self-torture, he 
 vowed from henceforth to forfeit all his privi- 
 leges as a gentleman. 
 
 *^He would cease to dress as one, or live the 
 life of one. The poorest labourer on his 
 father's estate should be better clad and better 
 fed. 
 
 *' No doubt there was a great deal of real 
 eccentricity in this, which was sufficiently 
 notorious, when he was only a younger son, 
 on but a small allowance. 
 
 "But wdien he became possessed of Oldbarn, 
 with a yearly income of fifteen hundred a 
 year, and went about almost in the garb of 
 a beggar, and was known to live almost en- 
 tirely on the mere scraps left from his ser- 
 vants' meals, people shook their heads and 
 thought him really mad. 
 
 " Two people only held a different opinion —
 
 288 LORDS AND LADIES. 
 
 one was Mr. Joscelyn, and the other Mr. 
 Barton, the rector of the parlsli. The former 
 argued that a man was mad when he did mis- 
 chievous and wicked things, whereas no one could 
 live a more harmless and quiet life than Mr. Am- 
 brose. He was good to every one but himself. 
 While Mr. Barton had even greater reason 
 to think that some heavy mental grief op- 
 pressed him, rather than any disease of the 
 brain ; for he acted and spoke as a man 
 atoning for some great sin. He was liberal 
 to the poor, generous to his servants, and if 
 he had been niggardly towards his niece Clara, 
 it was as much from ignorance of her real wants, 
 as fear of getting into the hands of his 
 two brothers. 
 
 "In fact, but for Mr. Barton and Mr. 
 Joscelyn, they would have taken possession of 
 him and Oldburn long ago, under the plea 
 that he was insane. 
 
 " This fear of his brothers so haunted him.
 
 LORDS AND LADIES. 289 
 
 that the only hatred he possessed in his heart 
 was towards his heirs. 
 
 "After receiving Clara's last letter, he 
 was urged in his conscience to go and see 
 her. 
 
 "His opinion of his brothers was such, he 
 felt she might be their victim as well as 
 himself. But true to his vow, to allow him- 
 self no more indulgence than the poorest 
 labourer, he had walked nearly all the way 
 to London. 
 
 " What happened there has been recorded. 
 "And now Clara returned to the beloved 
 home of her childhood. 
 
 "It is impossible to express her happiness, 
 or the happiness that she gave her uncle Ambrose 
 the few years he lived. Their only grief was 
 the state of his health, which long years of 
 remorse and penance had so impaired, he could 
 not hope to live long, even loved and 
 tended as he was by his darling Clara. It was 
 VOL. I. U
 
 290 LORDS AND LADIES. 
 
 the prettiest sight to see them togetlier. It 
 even disarmed those two dreadful brothers, who 
 came down more than once on their old scheme 
 of proving him insane, or taking her from 
 him. 
 
 " Such was her firmness, good sense, and 
 fearlessness of them, as she faced them with 
 her arm round ' Papa Ambrose's ' neck — so she 
 called him — such his happiness, content, and 
 perfect freedom from all eccentricities seated 
 thus, that they saw at once and for ever they 
 had better go back and struggle with the world, 
 regardless of any hope of heirship. 
 
 "And so far they were better off; for many 
 handsome presents found their way up from 
 Oldburn to the poky dingy Hume Villa, 
 and to the rough inhabitants of Newlands 
 Farm. • 
 
 " ' Oh !' I said, ^ Clara, how could you permit 
 that, after behaving so ill to you? I never 
 would have seen or spoken to them more !'
 
 LORDS AND LADIES, 291 
 
 " ^ On the contrary, Mrs. Spooner, now that 
 I was -so happy, I began to make excuses for 
 them. I remembered the dreadful change from 
 Oldburn to Hume cottage, young as I was, 
 and I thought perhaps my uncles had, Avhile 
 young, been treated almost as heh's of Oldburn ; 
 they had partaken of all its luxuries and com- 
 forts, and then, just when they could least bear 
 it, they had been thrust into the world to fight 
 for an existence.' 
 
 "^That may be all very well, but it should 
 not have made them cruel and dishonourable.' 
 
 " ^ When one mean passion creeps in, Arabella, 
 others soon follow, until the hole they make 
 is large enough for vices and crimes to enter.' 
 
 a i Perhaps so, Mrs. Joscelyn, but, at least, 
 I hope they got none of Uncle Ambrose's 
 money. I hope he disappointed them there. 
 Clara smiles: so it is all right.' 
 
 "Think of my astonishment when I learnt 
 the real truth. 
 
 u 2
 
 292 LORDS AND LADIES. 
 
 "Uncle Ambrose left the estate of Oldburn 
 to his brother Edwin, and half of the money 
 he had saved in the funds to Charles, and 
 the other half to Clara. 
 
 " ^ Gracious heavens !' I exclaimed, ' he was 
 mad indeed ! Who ever permitted • such ini- 
 quity?' 
 
 " ^ Clara did herself — indeed, it was she who 
 made her uncle's will from beginning to end, 
 and had great difficulty in making him sign 
 it. He wished to leave everything he possessed 
 to her.' 
 
 " ^And so he ought,' I answered. 
 
 " ^But she argued thus, and Mr. Barton 
 and my husband gradually saw the justice of 
 what she said: 
 
 " ' If you, Papa Ambrose, leave everything 
 to me, my uncles will immediately go to law 
 with me. They will say you were insane, and 
 unfit to make a will, and we shall have our 
 private history dragged to light, and exposed
 
 LOEDS AND LADIES. 293 
 
 to all the world. Now, I would rather have 
 nothing than that.' 
 
 "Papa Ambrose shuddered with horror at the 
 very idea. 
 
 " ^Now, though I am more fond of Oldburn 
 than it is possible to express, yet never before 
 has it descended in the female line. For aught 
 we know, there may be some old deed prevent- 
 ing a female inheriting ; it is not, I believe, 
 quite certain the entail was ever broken. This 
 might bring another law-suit, by which no one 
 would benefit but the lawyers ; and the rightful 
 owner of Oldburn, when they had settled whom 
 it should be, would find him or herself in 
 possession of the estate, but beggered for life. 
 Now, Uncle Edwin and Uncle Charles being 
 twins, and nobody knowing to this day which 
 was the eldest, it does not matter which has it. 
 But I recommend Uncle Edwin, because not 
 only does he love the place as if it was a 
 very paradise, but he is very clever in the
 
 294 lORDS AND LADIES. 
 
 management of land — and Uncle Charles knows 
 nothing about it.' 
 
 " We all admired her wisdom as she said 
 this, and though no one openly remarked how 
 sadly the estate was gone to rack and ruin, 
 everj'one felt that, under the care and manage- 
 ment of a shrewd, active man, Oldburn would 
 soon double its value.' 
 
 "Uncle Ambrose alone made a remonstrance. 
 
 " ' Edwin has not married as I could wish. 
 Mrs. Edwin is not a person I should like to 
 see in my mother's place.' 
 
 " ' Perhaps not. Papa Ambrose,' answered 
 Clara ; ' but I fancy if Aunt Patty came here 
 as mistress, she would soon learn to think 
 and act like a lady. That is, I mean, she 
 would be so anxious to act the lady, she 
 would try her best to become one.' 
 
 " ^Do 3^ou think honestly, child, that she 
 will ever become a person fit for Mrs. Jos- 
 celyn to visit?'
 
 LORDS AND LADIES. 205 
 
 " Mrs. Joscelyn answered for herself, saying 
 if there was nothing against her character, she 
 should certainly visit her; for, as far as 
 manners went, there was a certain great lady 
 known to them both, whom all the county 
 visited, courted — nay, worshipped, and she was 
 as little of a lady, &c., (fee. 
 
 " * Well, well, that is true. If you and the 
 Squire promise to give Mrs. Edwin a helping 
 hand, Clara shall have her way — Edwin shall 
 have Oldburn.' 
 
 " ' Thanks, dear Papa Ambrose ; and now you 
 must divide your money between Uncle Charles 
 and me.^ 
 
 *• ^My dear, there are great accumulations — 
 they tell me it amounts to eighteen thousand 
 pounds.' 
 
 '■' ^ Heavens ! what a sum !' exclaimed Clara, 
 remembering the ha])py day when she was the 
 possessor of a whole shilHng, and spent a modi- 
 cum of it in buying a bit of pink ribbon to
 
 296 LORDS AND LADIES. 
 
 adorn her throat, blushing to acknowledge the 
 extravagance. 
 
 " ^ Yes, child, so you shall have ten thousand, 
 and Charles eiij^ht.' 
 
 " ^No, no, divide it equally — poor Uncle 
 Charles has such a dreadful wife, he will 
 always be poor while she lives.' 
 
 "They argued, but Clara had her own way, 
 as she deserved. 
 
 "Uncle Ambrose lived for five years after 
 this, the happiest man in the world, he said. 
 All his misery of former years w^as amply atoned 
 for by the peace and comfort of these five 
 years. He became a deeply religious man, 
 which had the effect of proving to him that he 
 had wasted his life in atoning for an act which 
 was as purely accidental as any that the providence 
 of God permits to happen to us. 
 
 " ' And how long has he been dead V I 
 asked. 
 
 " ' About three years,' answered ^Irs. Joscelyn.
 
 LORDS AND LADIES. 297 
 
 "^And what did his brothers say? I should 
 like to have witnessed the scene of the reading 
 of the will' 
 
 " ' It was truly remarkable ; the two brothers 
 arrived to attend the funeral, and both of them 
 announced their intention, not only to their 
 niece, but to everyone, that they should dispute 
 the will, whatever it might be, on the plea 
 that their brother was insane. The lawyer, 
 knowing the contents of the will, was so far 
 true to his vocation, that he drew them 
 on to make all sorts of asseverations, the re- 
 membrance of which ought to make them 
 blush to this day. They showed no grief, 
 and disgusted everybody. But, as Clara had 
 foreseen, the revulsion of feeling caused by 
 the unexpected nature of the will broke 
 down every barrier, and my dear Squire 
 came home quite pathetic to me. concern- 
 ing them.' 
 
 "*What nipping poverty they must have
 
 298 LORDS AND LADIES. 
 
 felt, Lizzy/ said he, ^ for great men like them 
 to burst out cryiiifij with joy. As for Edwin, 
 I feel sure that in the first excitement he en- 
 acted the part of a madman much more in 
 reality than his brother Ambrose ever did 
 in his moodiest fits. He tore the will from 
 the lawyer's hands, he stared at his name 
 written therein, as if stricken into stone. Then 
 he shouted ; he pointed with his finger to his 
 name, he laughed, he cried, he sat trembling 
 as if he saw a ghost ! Perhaps at that moment 
 all his wickedness rose before his mental vision ; 
 and he was beginning to feel the effects of the 
 ^'heaping of. red-hot coals" on the head of his 
 guilty conscience, and Clara stood by, looking 
 like the serene angel she was. It was her 
 voice that first aw^oke him from his bewilderment.' 
 
 " ' Uncle Edw^in,' she said, ' let me congratu- 
 late you. I know how you love Oldburn I ' 
 
 " ' Love it !' he murmured, ' I have never 
 known happiness out of it,'
 
 LORDS AND LADIES, 209 
 
 ^' Then he took her hand and kissed it re~ 
 verently, as a man might kiss the foot of an 
 angel just stepped from heaven. 
 
 "But he could say nothing. Words were 
 denied him. 
 
 "^And Charles r 
 
 " ^ Well, the Squire said he did not behave 
 quite so well as Edwin ; it was only when he 
 learnt that Clara had no more than himself, 
 that he took heartily to his good luck. But of 
 the whole company, I suppose no one was so 
 purely happy as Clara.' 
 
 " Ah ! dear Clara, there you sit opposite to 
 me, on your cheek a tear for Uncle Ambrose's 
 memory. Gracious goodness ! when I think 
 how I have thought of you — when I remem- 
 ber that I have called you proud, ill-tempered, 
 supercilious — when I recall the times I have 
 tried to snub you, depreciate you, dislike you — 
 oh ! dear me, how I hate myself ! You are 
 quite a heroine — not one of those strong-minded
 
 300 LORDS AND LADIES. 
 
 women who go out of their way to do 
 things that are mnch more proper for a man, 
 but you are a true womanly heroine, the most 
 beautiful of all beautiful things in this world. 
 That is what Kate has just said. Kate asks 
 Clara how her uncles have behaved to her since. 
 (The wretches ! I shall never like them !) 
 This is her reply: 
 
 "'They love me dearly, and think they can 
 never do enough for me !' 
 
 " ' And how does Mrs. Edwin behave V 
 " ' She is not a bad sort of woman,' inter- 
 rupted Mrs. Joscelyn ; ' she is warm-hearted, and 
 if she was sure her husband was not ashamed 
 of her, she would be less awkward and more 
 happy. Everything goes on well when Clara 
 ^dsits them, because . she treats her with so 
 much respect, her husband and children, for 
 very shame, do so likewise. Mrs. Barton is very 
 fond of her, and says she is invaluable to her 
 as a help in the parish. Everybody has his
 
 LORDS AND LADIES. 301 
 
 good points, if we would only take half the pains 
 to find them out that we take to discover flaws.' 
 
 " ' And all the cousins V asked Kate. ^ Oh ! 
 how Clara blushes !' 
 
 " ^ Oh ! 'tis no secret that all Clara's male 
 cousins are more or less in love with her. As 
 for that famous red-headed Bob^ to whom her 
 first introdiiction took place when he was 
 lying all tumbled and tossed on a sofa, it is 
 said that he offers to her every time he sees 
 her, and has threatened to shoot himself if she 
 marries any other person.' 
 
 " ^ Then, gossip,' whispered Kate, ' he had 
 better get his pistols ready !' 
 
 "^When I grow up,' observed Bessie gravely, 
 ^ I shall act precisely like Clara .' 
 
 " ' Ah, Bessie !' answered her mother, * where 
 are your uncles Ambrose, Claries, and Edwin? 
 Be content that you have a fond father and 
 mother, and that you will certainly be happy 
 all your days, please God.' "
 
 302 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 puff! puff! 
 
 Extract from the Gentlemen s Journal. 
 
 " I AM no scribe, for I make Elizabeth 
 answer all my letters ; but they tell me I am 
 bound to record my opinion of our present 
 life. 
 
 " Well, I don't dislike it, or rather it would 
 be very pleasant indeed, but for one or two 
 things. In the first place, we were wrong 
 not to bring with us a good cook. Scruttles 
 may be very valuable in his way, though what 
 that is we have not yet discovered ; but as for 
 cooking, faugh ! the less said of that the
 
 LORDS AND LADIES. 303 
 
 better! I am of opinion a roasted potatoe, 
 or even a boiled e^g, is not safe in his 
 hands. Another thing against us is the small- 
 ness of the island. We are, by contract of 
 renting, not permitted to kill more than a 
 certain number of rabbits. Keeping to so 
 many daily, we can knock them over in five 
 minutes. For the rest of our sport we have 
 the sea-fowl and a few land-birds. The 
 former are not eatable, and I almost consider 
 it murder to kill that for which one has no 
 use. 
 
 *^ The fishing is not bad, but we have only 
 one boat, and she is rather small. Altogether 
 our time hangs a bit heavy on hand. I miss 
 my farm, and thinning the woods and laying 
 out the walks which, by-the-byc, reminds me 
 I could improve this place wonderfully with a 
 few labourers. I'll sound Spoon er and Frank ; 
 perhaps if I take a spade in hand, they will 
 help. I should think the convict knows how
 
 304 LOKDS AND LADIES. 
 
 to dig and break stones a bit. I make no 
 doubt of it that he understands that sort of 
 thing a vast deal better than cooking, and 
 yet I can't help liking — no, hang it ! pitying 
 the poor beast! He is so awfully anxious to 
 please ! I mean to have his history out of 
 him some day. 
 
 "Another mistake we have made is, only to 
 have the boat from Rampton once a week. 
 Every other day would have brought us news- 
 papers, and fresh milk and butter. I have 
 taken to sherry and water as the best sub- 
 stitute for tea. Now, that's a thing I miss. T 
 like a good cup of tea, and nobody makes it 
 to my mind but 
 
 " ^ Hullo ! Squire, why, are you writing a 
 novel? That's the fourth page you have tm-ned 
 over.' 
 
 '^ ^ I write rather a large hand, Spooner ; 
 but I don't want to take more than my share. 
 You just stopped me in the nick of time.'
 
 LORDS AND LADIES. 305 
 
 " ' I should think I had/ writes Air. Spooner, 
 ^ evidently a name was about to be written 
 that has no license to be recorded in the 
 Puff Journal. And yet why not ? Are the 
 holiest feelings of our nature, the dearest 
 thoughts of our hearts, the most beloved names, 
 to be arbitrarily dismissed from our thoughts, 
 our tongues, our pens, by the fiat of a mortal 
 will? Surely not. I also could name a name, 
 but why do so ? Will the doing so soothe 
 the present hour^ Will it bring the object 
 nearer? Will it satisfy the longings of a too 
 fervid imagination ? No — then let the name 
 be. Let me bring down my thoughts from 
 their elevated flight among the regions of happiest 
 fancy, and cast them upon this island on 
 which we are located. Are we happy? Yes. 
 I look around me, and see all the materials 
 for happiness within our grasp. Here, we live 
 free from all cares, all trials, all heart-burn- 
 ings. Our lives pass in the calmest repose. 
 VOL. I. X
 
 306 LOHDS AND LADIES. 
 
 Each does just what he hkes best ; and for 
 those whose minds are tuned to literary fancies, 
 this pause in the busy work of the world 
 is delicious. I dip into my favourite poets, 
 and exclaim with them r 
 
 'Sooth, 'tis a pleasant life to lead, 
 
 With nothing in the world to do 
 But just to blow a shepherd's reed. 
 
 The silent seasons tlirough , 
 To muse within some minstrel's book, 
 
 Or watch the haunted air ; 
 To slumber in some quiet nook, 
 
 Or idle anywhere.' 
 
 I cannot conceive any reasonable mortal feel- 
 ing dull, or finding time hang heavy on hand, 
 if he has his favomite authors to commune 
 Avith : 
 
 ' Give me leave 
 To enjoy myself ; that place that does contain 
 My books, the best companions, is to me 
 A glorious court — where hourly I converse 
 With the old sages and philosophers.' ' 
 
 '* ^ Spooner, you are not fair — you are copy- 
 hm sentiments out of a book.^
 
 LORDS AND LADIES. 307 
 
 "'By no meaiiSj my dear Crabshawe, I was 
 merely looking to see if my quotation was 
 correctly written.' 
 
 " ^ And what right have you to quote ? 
 Can't you say fair and straight you never were 
 happier V 
 
 " ^I beg your pardon. It would be an in- 
 justice to one I will not name if I averred 
 that this was the most felicitous portion of 
 my life. On the contraiy, it is due to her 
 — to — I mean that person — to state that, 
 though I am happy, remarkably happy, yet 
 still there is one lunar circle of my life ' 
 
 " ^ In which you were particularly moon- 
 struck.' 
 
 " ^ I can very well understand, Crabshawe^ 
 that you are totally incapable of comprehending 
 the finer feeliugs of our nature — so we will 
 not argue the point. But, if I am to 
 write in the journal, 1 must not be interrupted.' 
 
 ''^Very good — I am mum.'" 
 
 x2
 
 308 LORDS AND LADIES. 
 
 Spoouer took up his pen, and filled it 
 carefully with ink. He then laid it as care- 
 fully down, and ran his fingers through his 
 hair. Suddenly he snatched up his pen, and 
 for a moment looked inspired, but the beau- 
 tiful idea fled, apparently for ever. He put 
 his pen on the top of his ear, as was his 
 custom at the bank. He thrust both hands 
 into his pockets, as if diving fur gold ; they 
 came out again with nothing. He took his 
 pen again from his ear, and nibbled the end 
 — then he again carefully filled it with ink, 
 and held it poised for use. Finally, he pulled 
 his left whisker out and consulted it. Ap- 
 parently it had no advice to give. He re- 
 moved his pen to his other hand and con- 
 sulted the other whisker. 
 
 During this scene, the book of the journal 
 was quietly abstracted, and the above conver- 
 sation and scene recorded. It was put back just 
 in time for him to record the following sentiments:
 
 LORDS AND LADIES. 309 
 
 "What an exquisite pleasure there is in an 
 independent life ! We want food ; with the 
 self-reliance, with the indomitable pluck of the 
 ancient Briton, we shoulder our arms and go 
 forth to procure it. In doing so, we feast 
 our eyes on the beauties of nature. In her 
 sweet countenance (unheeded amid the vortex 
 of the world's pleasures) we find stores of 
 treasures that delight us with their novelty. 
 
 "There are the ever- varying hues of hea- 
 ven, painting its pictures on the mirrored sea. 
 Again, ocean is moved to her innermost cavern, 
 she heaves with great sobs, she lashes the 
 shore with passion, she rolls and roars with 
 mighty and resistless power. The fleet she 
 bears upon her bosom — our nation's pride, our 
 glorious navy — stagger from stem to stern. 
 Like wayward corks upon the water, they toss 
 about as if she were playing with them. Mighty 
 ocean, the most unchangeable of all God's 
 works ! what treasures dost thou not hold
 
 310 LORDS AND LADIES. 
 
 within thy water-palaces ! At times they are 
 
 thrown up on thy twice-Laved shore, teaching 
 
 us the vanity of all earthly things. 
 
 " Such are some of the feelings engendered 
 
 l)y our present life. They take one out of 
 
 one's self. In the world there is no opportunity 
 
 to experience this calm, this pause in one's 
 
 career. No thrilling emotion tingles through 
 
 my veins ; I am stirred by no inward throb. 
 
 The anticipation of the next moment occasions 
 
 no agitation. Life is a gentle burden ; like the 
 
 froth on ocean's wave, I am tossed about 
 
 careless and light. 
 
 ' What is life worth without a heart to feel 
 The great and lovely, and the poetry 
 A.nd sacredness of things ? ' 
 
 ^''Tis a happy existence, reminding me of 
 the sportive life of my boyhood. Nevertheless, 
 the godlike nature of conscience makes itself 
 felt. It reminds me of a certain Tuesday in 
 the wild but match-making month of Febru- 
 ary. On that Tuesday I pronounced vows.
 
 LORDS AND LADIES. 311 
 
 I solemnly undertook the charge of a gentle 
 fragile being, whose name I will not mention. 
 But conscience asks, am I performing those 
 vows ? It appears not. Then is this calm 
 deceitful — this delicious life a snare? Never- 
 theless, there is an end proposed in it, a pur- 
 pose for the benefit of the nameless one — for 
 that end I live. 
 
 " I am surprised that w^e received no mes- 
 sage by the old herring man. But why sur- 
 prised ? A philosophic mind ought not to 
 allow itself to be surprised. 
 
 " And yet I have had to express great astonish- 
 ment at the vai'ious and complicated mysteries 
 of cooking. Even a simple potatoe declines 
 to be mashed here as it does at home. Can 
 it be the climate or the water ? To be sure, as 
 George said, there was rather a taste of 
 snuff in those we liad yesterday. We ques- 
 tioned Scruttles closely, but he swore solemnly, 
 ' never no snuff came anigh his noddle,' and
 
 312 LOEDS AND LADIES. 
 
 as is the duty of one man towards another, 
 unless you have excellent reasons to the con- 
 trary, I believed him. 
 
 "Perhaps Sam — but no, I will not hurt the 
 feelings of his master, but I wish to state 
 publicly that I object to snuff as a seasoning 
 for mashed potatoes, or, indeed, for any kind 
 of food. 
 
 "To-day, being partial to puddings, I assisted 
 Frank to cook the dinner. We concocted a 
 pudding between us. Wliile we were mixing 
 the ingredients (I am sorry to say, not only 
 did no one ask a second time for some of 
 our pudding, but both tlie Squire and Sir 
 George only took one mouthful), Frank made 
 a very sensible remark, 
 
 " ' Society is like this pudding, Spooner — it 
 ought to be composed of different ingredients, 
 and well mixed.' 
 
 " ^ I object,' remarked Crabshawe, * to one 
 ingredient, and that is woman.'
 
 LORDS AND LADIES. 313 
 
 " ^ The foundation of my pudding should be 
 woman, and woman only/ answered Frank, 
 boldly. 
 
 '^ ^ Why, Summers, I thought I was curing 
 you of that nonsense.' 
 
 " ^You cannot cure a man of a disease 
 that he loves better than his health.' 
 
 "^Pooh! pooh! you only say that to vex 
 me.' 
 
 "Perhaps he did. At any rate, if he really 
 loves, he is remarkably cheerful under the 
 circumstances. He is the right hand of us 
 all. Good Frank ! if he really thinks as he 
 says, I must give him some of my experi- 
 ence. 
 
 " Granting that the mixing of one's pudding is 
 typical of the mingling of society, I must say 
 that, to make woman the foundation of it, would 
 be to spoil the pudding — we should have too 
 much of one thing. Rut mixed in proper propor- 
 tions (by-the-bye, no wonder our pudding was a
 
 314 LORDS AND LADIES. 
 
 little heavy, Scruttles has just shown us the 
 wliites of the eggs which were to have been 
 whipped and thrown in), they are absolutely ne- 
 cessary to the formation of society ; in fact, so- 
 ciety without the admission of women, would be 
 as tastlcss as — as — " 
 
 ''Your pudden." 
 
 It is supposed that Mr. Spooner was called 
 away, leaving his sentence unfinished, or that 
 he failed to find a proper simile, for the conclu- 
 sion was in another writing. 
 
 The style of Captain Crabshawe's writing 
 was on a par with his spelling. His remarks 
 seem to have been prepared with a view to 
 compose a paragraph in a ^' Reading made easy." 
 
 '^ Fine day," he continues, " sport good, 
 smoke wdien we like — that is the thing! It is 
 rong to say men carnt live without wimmen. 
 All I can say is, and I no I am rite in 
 what I say, it is tiiet bring the trubble. 
 If anny one wants to be happy, let him come
 
 LORDS AND LADIES. 315 
 
 to Puff. He shall have a harty welcome. 
 
 There are a set of good fellows there that 
 
 wood not change with anny one. It rekuires 
 
 no more words to tell of our content. We 
 
 have but one want, and that is a handy fellow 
 
 to help Scruttles. I make no remarks, but that's 
 
 my pinion. I think it the manly thing to do to 
 
 state the truth. 
 
 (Signed) "A. C." 
 
 ^' Great bore keeping this journal, but I 
 suppose I must take my turn at it. In fact, 
 our whole life is only composed of turns. 
 What with taking my turn to do without 
 Sam, and then to have a turn to do with 
 that beast Scruttles, going on with having to 
 do everything for myself, except when I am 
 doing som.ething for everybody else, with the 
 turn of having nothing done for me by any 
 body, by Jove ! I am twisted out of my own 
 individuality. 
 
 ^'I believe Adam was right, that is if he
 
 316 LORDS AND LADIES. 
 
 had a choice in selectino; his companion. 
 There is something deuced good-natured in 
 the female composition. They don't mind 
 giving you up a nice book, even if they are 
 in the third volume. (The Squire has locked 
 up the third volume of ^Exquisite Sins' for 
 three days, he says he loses his place now 
 that his wife is not by to keep it for 
 him.) 
 
 "It is the dowagers I dislike. They are always 
 making up to one to induce one to make up 
 to their daughters. It disgusts a fellow with 
 the whole sex. I wish all the dowagers 
 were in paradise. No, that won't do, for I 
 want to go there myself. I wonder who 
 thought of sending the herring man here to- 
 day. It's odd they did not say, at least, 
 that they were well. How do they pass 
 their time, I should like to know? Here, if 
 if we could not take refuge in sleep, the 
 time would be deuced heavy. I am not
 
 LORDS AND LADIES. 317 
 
 fond of poetry, like Spooner, or your philo- 
 sophical, metaphysical ponderosities, like Frank, 
 and I have nearly finished all the novels. 
 
 "The Squire has just declared he does not 
 sleep well at night. ' Good heavens ! then, my 
 dear Squire, why do you take the trouble to 
 snore V 
 
 "I wish I knew what to say next. I cannot 
 fill up my part of the journal with quotations 
 of poetry. By-the-bye, we enjoy one thing in 
 perfection, and that is smoking. Truly we puff 
 to our heart's content. There is also another 
 comfort — one can say just whatever comes into 
 one's head without the fear of anyone taking 
 hold of your words, and bringing you to book 
 for them. 
 
 '*One thing is, we shall not stay here long. 
 If we find our lives monotonous, the ladies must 
 be in the depth of dulness. I look to see the 
 flag up any day ; so, I su})posc, does Frank, as 
 he is constantly going out to s])y it.
 
 318 LORDS AND LADIES. 
 
 "The bay looked very pretty to-day, when 
 one of the Trinity yachts came in, and 
 steamed about looking for her anchorage. It 
 is something like life to see her. I wonder 
 who is in command? It is a great mistake our 
 not ordering a boat to come and take us to 
 church. Our fishing-boat is too small, even if 
 we could row it in our go-to-meeting clothes. 
 And as for sitting within twenty yards of that 
 convict, I would not do it to save my life. I 
 am not at all surprised at Sam's dislike to the 
 fellow. A respectable servant, such as Sam is, 
 ought to have a respectable fellow-servant to 
 associate with. I shall remonstrate seriously 
 with the Squire. There is one person here 
 whom it is useless to consult. 
 
 " G. F." 
 
 " I hope that is not me. I acknowledge that I 
 am a brute, and have felt a brute ever since I 
 came to Puff. I perceive this book — this jour-
 
 LORDS AND LADIES. 319 
 
 nal — has a command written on its first page. 
 I recognize the handwriting of our king. It 
 therefore behoves us to obey the order, which is 
 to write ^ the truth, the whole truth, and no- 
 thing but the truth.' I hope my companions 
 have sincerely fulfilled the command. I fully 
 intend to do so. I will begin by proving not 
 only that I am a brute, but that all my com- 
 panions are brutes. 
 
 '• God made us men. He endowed us with 
 reason. He gifted us with strength. He 
 permitted us a natural love of power, and en- 
 couraged us with the indisputable possession of 
 spirit and gallantry. We w^ere to use all these 
 gifts in the service and for the pleasure of 
 those who, resembling beings of another world, 
 are of so refined, so intellectual a nature, they 
 were formed on purpose for us to serve and 
 worship. Perhaps there is some pleasure in one 
 man showing another he can ride, fish, shoot, 
 hunt better than the other; perhaps there is a
 
 320 LORDS AND LADIES. 
 
 secret delight in proving oneself wiser than the 
 wisest. Perhaps there is a glow in our hearts 
 at the thought, ' We are so strong ! — we can 
 knock a man, just like ourselves, down I' All 
 this I will allow. But how about the love of 
 power, the courage to do and dare, the desire to 
 be knightly and courteous ? We cannot all rule, 
 and none obey ; we don't want to do another 
 man's barking when he has got a dog of his 
 own. We have no wish to run headlong into 
 dangers and disagreeables for only a man. Our 
 natural pluck will make us punch our enemies 
 ourselves. 
 
 "Therefore we have had gifts given us for 
 an especial purpose. Failing that service, we 
 have no use for them. We become merely the 
 animal — the brute. At present our sole pursuit 
 is that of shedding blood. Our greatest pleasure 
 is to gormandise, and our most innocent amuse- 
 ment is to smoke away the little sense we have 
 left.
 
 LORDS AND LADIES. 321 
 
 *'Let me place before you the picture of one 
 day here at this delectable island of Puff. 
 
 "We rise in the morning without an object, 
 until one presents itself to us, in the shape of 
 procuring something to eat, or cooking it. We 
 neither dress like gentlemen, or act as such. 
 One would suppose, by the snarling and snap- 
 ping that goes on, w^e intended to imitate the 
 manners of a pack of hounds. 
 
 "We have a most wretched breakfast, served 
 in a most deplorable manner, in which our 
 least discomfort is the want of something w^e 
 can eat. There is no fresh rosebud of a face 
 opposite to whom you can offer muffins in the 
 hope of receiving a smile as thanks ; no lovely 
 and beneficent being by your side who wants 
 the salt, or who wishes to add to her sweetness 
 by a spoonful of honey ; no beautiful and kind 
 hostess pouring out your tea, making it a posi- 
 tive pleasure to drink it from her hand. 
 
 "I am of Crabshawe's mind, 'tis better to 
 VOL. I. Y
 
 322 LORDS AND LADIES. 
 
 go to the cupboard and eat when one is hungry, 
 than to sit down to any meal where the table 
 is not beautified and refined by the presence 
 of those divine beings. I respect Crab's feel- 
 ings, and will not write down in his Puffs' 
 journal a name he does not wish to see. 
 
 "But let him picture to himself how we 
 breakfast now. Each snatches at that which 
 is nearest to him, and should it by a happy 
 chance be less nauseous than usual, he takes 
 good care not to di\Tilge the fact. But he cuts 
 and eats, and smiles to himself. 
 
 "'Ha! ha!' thinks he, Uo-day I shall not 
 starve.' 
 
 " As for tea, happily that is given up. Partly 
 because we have no cream or milk, and partly 
 because the only man that can make it de- 
 clines to do what is the prettiest, sweetest, dearest 
 act of — a divine creature. It is her province, her 
 right. Her dainty fingers can play among the 
 dainty china; but for a man, simply he de-
 
 LORDS AND LADIES. 323 
 
 serves to have lils head broken for even makincr 
 the attempt. 
 
 "After breakfast, we wrangle as to what 
 we shall do ; certainly we amuse ourselves wran- 
 gling, we are always at it, no matter how 
 trifling the matter. 
 
 " Some decide to shoot, one intends to fish, 
 a third fancies a book, and, under pretence of 
 reading,' sleeps the dull hours away. 
 
 "But we meet at that farce called dinner. 
 We wrangle over that, though goodness knows 
 for what. It is not worth it, and is only so 
 much better than breakfast, that it is so much 
 later in the day. 
 
 " We certainly have novelties at our dinner, 
 that we can never hope to see elsewhere. 
 
 " Nearly everything is seasoned with snuff. 
 Scruttles denies, with such painful earnestness, 
 even knowing what snuff could be intended for, 
 that we make-believe to believe him. Sam, 
 plunging into the hazardous experiment of
 
 324 LORDS AND LADIES. 
 
 making rolls for dinner, forgot to wash his 
 hands after arranging his master's hair. The 
 rolls looked good, but impregnated with the 
 odour of macassar oil, it is needless to say, 
 we permitted Sam to eat them all. In a 
 sort of despair and fear of famine, the Squire 
 said, 
 
 " ^ Scnittles only requires to be put in the 
 way of things; my dear Frank, do you think 
 you could give him a lesson or two ? ' 
 
 " I signified my sense of the honour con- 
 ferred on me of being tutor to the ' ex-convict,' 
 and modestly proposed to make some coffee at 
 once, which was a success. Without vanity, I 
 may claim the high position of being the 
 best cook on the island. Certainly that is not 
 saying much, for, as the truth is to be told, 
 I don't think there is anybody else that knows 
 a bit about it. 
 
 *' Nevertheless, I pride myself most on the 
 fact that, when cooking, I wear an apron!
 
 LORDS AND LADIES. 325 
 
 "In the evening we wrangle over whist, to 
 which we dihgently devote ourselves for 
 four or five hours, amusing ourselves between 
 whiles, with railing at Sam or kicking Scruttles. 
 
 "Privately, we are each devoured by curi- 
 osity to know what the ' divine creatures' are 
 thinking, doing, and saying; and more than 
 one of us heartily pray in secret that their 
 patience would give way, and that they would 
 send us a message of compromise. But they 
 won't. You need not hope, you may cease to 
 pray. If they become mummies through dul- 
 ness, they will never give in. My mother used 
 to tell me that Job was the model of all 
 patience. I will back any ^divine creature' 
 against him, when her plumage is ruffled. 
 
 " Come, here is some amusement — the 
 Squire has sent for Scruttles to relate his 
 history. Pen in hand, I will note down the 
 interesting particulars. 
 
 " By the dumbfounded appearance of the
 
 326 LORDS AND LADIES. 
 
 * excellent convict,' I think the Squire has as- 
 tonished him more than ever he was astonished 
 before. It is evident that Scruttles has not 
 that opinion of his past life that makes him 
 think it worth the relating. Judging by the 
 additional twist of ugliness into which he 
 has screwed his most forbidding countenance, the 
 less said about his antecedents the better. 
 
 " If it was possible to make a bolt of it, 
 Scruttles would bolt; but being on an island, 
 as much imprisoned as in the strongest jail, 
 he must face his position. But there are 
 mitigating circumstances. The Squire gives 
 him a good steaming glass of gin-toddy to 
 refresh his memory now and then, and he is 
 allowed to sit down, and also twirl what he 
 uses for a hat. 
 
 *' Conscious of these favourable points, 
 Scruttles clears his throat ; evidently he has 
 settled it with his conscience that he will draw 
 largely on his imagination.
 
 LORDS AND LADIES. 327 
 
 " ' If Muster Squire will have his story, why, 
 he must just take what he can get.' 
 
 "The Squire has rather a sneaking kindness 
 for Scruttles, founded, he himself says, upon 
 the extraordinary amount of ugliness he could 
 bring to bear on his countenance. 
 
 " ' It is quite an art, sir,' remarked the 
 Squire, speaking to no one in particular ; 
 * every time I look at him, his ugliness strikes 
 me with new wonder.' 
 
 "And now imagine us grouped round the 
 amiable ' convict.' The Squire in the largest 
 chair, a noble cigar in his mouth, his legs wide 
 apart, his countenance beaming with intense in- 
 terest. Our King Crab just behind him, witli 
 a clay pipe, sucking in volumes of smoke, and 
 ejecting them energetically ; he is pleased at 
 the prominent position of his ^convict.' 
 
 " George is rather in the background ; he 
 meditates a snooze, I fancy. Spooner is deeply 
 interested. Some philosophical question in the
 
 328 LORDS AND LADIES. 
 
 matter of Scruttles is about to be solved; he 
 leans forward full of interest. His cigar is 
 in his mouth, but he has forgotten to light 
 it. Sam hovers in the distance ; Sam looks 
 as if he could put his thumb to his nose." 
 
 END OF THE FIRST VOLUME. 
 
 LONDON : PRINTED BY MACDONALD AKD TUGWELL, BLENHEIM HOUSE.
 
 V 
 
 /