L I E) RAR.Y 
 
 OF THL 
 
 U N I VLR^S ITY 
 
 or ILLINOIS 
 
 823 ^ 
 H8l4Zw 
 
 ^•1 
 
WILLIAM BATHURST 
 
 VOL. I. 
 
WILLIAM BATHURST. 
 
 BY 
 
 LEWIS HOUGH 
 
 IN THREE VOLUMES. 
 VOL. I. 
 
 LONDON: 
 HURST AND BLACKETT, PUBLISHERS, 
 
 SUCCESSORS TO HENRY COLBURN, 
 
 U, GREAT MARLBOROUGH STREET. 
 
 1865. 
 
 The right of Translation is reiO'ved 
 
LONDON : 
 
 I'KINTED BY MACDONALD AND TUGWELL, 
 
 DIXNUEIM HOUSE. 
 

 CHAPTER 1. 
 
 . .--THE JOHNSTONES AT BREAKFAST — IMPORTANT 
 ^ FROM CHINA. 
 
 ^ Thirty years ago a highly-decorated villa 
 
 by the side of the London road, and in the 
 
 parish of Acton, used to attract the admiring, 
 
 or — as it is impossible to please everybody — 
 
 ^ sometimes, perhaps, the scornful gaze of tra- 
 
 "^vellers. Its style was Elizabethan, Gothic- 
 
 ^ Egyptian, with a touch of the Chinese-Swiss. It 
 
 '^ had verandahs, turrets, painted windows, gable 
 
 'z ends, and comic waterspouts, and was, in fact, 
 
 the kind of habitation which naughty Ruskins 
 
 will find provided for them in Limbo. That 
 
 part of the garden which was hid behind this 
 
 hybrid dwelling was somewhat neglected, but 
 
 VOL. I. B 
 
Z WILLIAM BATIIURST. 
 
 the visible portion in front was so prim and 
 tidy, the lawn so carefully mown, the gravel 
 Avalks so smoothly rolled, the beds and the 
 plants which slept in them so carefully ar- 
 ranged to correspond with one another, in 
 form and tint, that you would have concluded 
 the gardener to be either a mathematical Qua- 
 ker or a Dutchman. The semicircular drive 
 which enclosed this Euclidean garden, and 
 which was destined, in theory, to enable car- 
 riages to deposit their contents on the steps 
 of a portico of such pretensions as to suggest 
 the idea that some Arabian practical joker, 
 with a pocket Genius, had run off with the 
 mansion belonging to it and left the villa in 
 its stead, was entered at either end through a 
 smart iron and brass gate, and each gate was 
 guarded by a pair of stone griffins, who were 
 perched on the walls flanking it, comfortably 
 seated on their tails, their heads on one side, 
 their tongues protruded, and their fore paws 
 dangling listlessly like those of a dog who is 
 
WILLIAM BATHURST. 5 
 
 " begging." Four most amiable-looking 
 griffins, with facetious expressions of face ; 
 roguish griffins, who would not scare the 
 juvenile population for the world, but seemed 
 rather to say, ^' There's an apple tree out there, 
 at the back ; come, over with you : we won't 
 bite, bless you ! — we are only stone, and we 
 would not hurt you if we could." Had I been 
 the fortunate possessor of that mongrel abode, 
 my life would have been embittered by the 
 suspicion that those impudent monsters were 
 poking fun at me with the passers-by ; but 
 Mr. Johnstone had neither a thin skin nor a 
 grain of the sense of humour. An ingenious, 
 perhaps a quizzical, member of the Heralds Col- 
 lege had declared the Johnstone crest to be a 
 rampant griffin, and Mr. Johnstone's new 
 house, his gates, Iiis spoons, his seals, his en- 
 velopes, his hat lining, his books, his umbrel- 
 la, broke out suddenly with that symbol of 
 the greatness of his ancestry, in a way which led 
 Jack Share to warn his friends on 'Change 
 
 B 2 
 
4 WILLIAM BATHURST. 
 
 against too near an approach to a man who 
 had evidently got a highly-infectious rampant 
 griffin measles. But Mr. Johnstone cared 
 nothing for Jack Share's vulgar ribaldry. 
 
 ^* No men despise good birth but those who 
 have not got it/' said he ; and he delighted in 
 his griffins, and thought his house was what 
 he called it, ** an imposing structure !" 
 
 And he was right — it was imposing. From the 
 walls, which appeared at a distance to be of solid 
 stone, but which were really of thin brick 
 plastered over with cement, to the ornamen- 
 tal monsters, which were the rightful property 
 of quite another Johnstone family, with whom 
 the present man had no more connection than 
 with the Guelfs, all was imposition. 
 
 Let bad taste do what it can to make a 
 pla^e ugly, the fairy wand of Nature can 
 transform the deformed hag into an enchanting 
 Columbine ; and so it happened that on one 
 fine May morning this formal square-toed gar- 
 den, and this hideous building, looked quite 
 
WILLIAM BATHURST. 5 
 
 pretty in the sunshine. For the gardener 
 who had arranged the former had omitted to 
 paint the lawn and the flowers drab, and the 
 rose and the clematis straggled gracefully over 
 the latter. 
 
 It was a quarter to eight, and Mrs. John- 
 stone, the lady of the house, was engaged in 
 making the tea for breakfast. She was a 
 comely dame, between forty and fifty, neatly 
 dressed and becomingly capped, with a good- 
 natured placid expression of countenance, and 
 looked, as she ladled out the conventional 
 number of spoonfuls into the pot, as if it were 
 her special mission to preside at a middle-aged 
 man's morning meal, and start him fairly, in 
 good humour and equable spirits, on his daily 
 course of struggle with the world. 
 
 A boy of nine, and a girl a year younger, 
 were engaged, the former in persecuting, the 
 latter in protecting, a doll, who had suffered 
 much from the infantile diseases to which it 
 had been artificially subjected. The red paint, 
 
6 WILLIAM Bx\.TIIURST. 
 
 which had hrokcn out in blotches on its face, 
 when it liad caught the measles, had refused 
 to be washed off on its recovery, without injury 
 to its original complexion, and the process of 
 vaccination had shed all the bran of its arms. 
 Its feet had not been improved by immersion 
 in hot water on the occasion of its catching 
 cold, and its hair, when cut, refused to grow 
 again. The somewhat stern corporal punish- 
 ment of seizure by the lower extremities, and 
 dashing of the head against a wall, inflicted 
 upon it when naughty, had not the same bene- 
 ficial effect upon its personal appearance that 
 we will hope it produced in its moral char- 
 acter ; and altogether it was a dilapitated doll, 
 and on that account more beloved by the 
 miniature woman who mothered it than all 
 the pink, blue-eyed, flaxen-haired, delicately- 
 dressed members of the same waxen family 
 who reposed unheeded on a shelf in the nursery 
 cupboard. 
 
 **Now. Harry, do let your sister alone!'' 
 
willia:\i bathurst. 7 
 
 expostulated ]\Irs. Johnstone, when the strug- 
 gle became noisy ; ^* and, Mary, you had better 
 put your doll away somewhere ; your papa 
 will be down directly, and you know that he 
 does not like to see playthings scattered about 
 the breakfast-room." 
 
 Mary, a good, obedient little dear as ever 
 ate bread and butter, put her treasure to bed 
 in the drawer of a wot-not, and her brother 
 looked disconsolately round for some other 
 object worthy of his mischief. 
 
 For Nature has denied the human infant, 
 or Civilization has deprived him of, the tail 
 which kittens and puppies can always amuse 
 themselves by pursuing. I do not know whe- 
 ther male creatures are, as a rule, more rest- 
 less than their females ; for the question has 
 only just occurred to me, and my means of 
 solving it are, for the moment, limited. My 
 tom-cat indeed is very calm and lazy, spend- 
 ing the whole of his time, with the exception 
 of the half hour before dinner, and an occa- 
 
8 WILLIAM BATIIURST. 
 
 sional moonlight night of peculiar brilliancy, in 
 sleep, while an old lady on the opposite side 
 of the street is fidgeting and bustling about 
 all day. But these two differ (let satirists 
 and naturalists say what they like) in species 
 as well as in sex ; and I have no female cat or 
 male old woman to observe, so that I can 
 come to no fair conclusion on the subject. I 
 have a vague idea, however, that little girls 
 are more placid than little boys, and the small 
 Johnstones may have originated the opinion ; 
 for, while Mary kept quite still, the mother 
 had to fire perpetual shots across Harry's 
 bows to bring him to as he ran into impro- 
 priety. 
 
 ^4Iarry, do not torment that wretched cat!" 
 " Harry, do not pick the loaf !" 
 ^' Let the fire-irons alone, Harry !" 
 " If you go near the urn again, I will send 
 you up to the nursery, Harry. Do sit down 
 and be quiet. Good gracious ! child, do not 
 touch your papa's letters V 
 
WILLIAM BATHURST. 9 
 
 These were neatly arranged, together with 
 the morning paper, and a small book of Family 
 Prayers, before Mr. Johnstone's plate ; and as 
 the clock was still striking eight, the master 
 of the house turned the handle of the door and 
 entered the room. 
 
 He was a man of middle height and spare 
 figure, with a large nose, high cheek-bones, 
 thin lips, fishy, greyish eyes, and sandy hair 
 and whiskers, slightly discoloured by time. 
 His dress was scrupulously neat and clean, 
 but so sombre in hue, that he seemed to be in 
 continual mourning for some one ; his neck 
 cloth was literally a '^ choker," being very 
 high, stiff, and tight, obliging him to move 
 his shoulders with his head whenever he 
 turned it. 
 
 You may get a good insight into a man's 
 disposition by observing how his children meet 
 him of a morning. The little Johnstones did 
 not run up to their father with noisy babble, 
 or look up at him with the quiet but bold 
 
10 WILLIAM BATHURST. 
 
 smile Avliich feels sure of meeting a bright 
 glance in return, but tendered their greetings 
 with the air of scholars performing a ceremonial 
 which is part of their education. 
 
 " Ring the bell for prayers, Mary," said 
 Mr. Johnstone, seating himself at the table, 
 and opening the little black book. 
 
 The religious exercise of the morning took 
 exactly seven minutes, which gave the tea 
 nice time to brew ; and then Mr. Johnstone 
 commenced his breakfast, which was a light 
 one, consisting of dry toast or bread and but- 
 ter — for he was apt to be slightly bilious in the 
 early morning ; and as he nibbled and sipped, 
 he opened the various documents which lay 
 before him. Some of these he threw into a 
 waste-paper basket, others he put into his 
 breast-pocket, according to their respective 
 worthlessness or worth, till at last his atten- 
 tion was arrested, and then entirely absorbed, 
 by a letter written on flimsy foreign paper, 
 and dated from China. 
 
WILLIAM BATHURST. 11 
 
 It was nothing very wonderful that Mr. 
 Johnstone should receive a letter from any 
 part of the world. He was a sort of general 
 agent, and transacted business for merchants 
 in all the five quarters — a bull which we must 
 continue to makcj until the coming geographer 
 invents some such word as quinters — Europe, 
 Asia, Africa, America, and Australia ; and this 
 present epistle was from his regular Canton 
 correspondent. But business letters were 
 generally placed by him in his breast coat- 
 pocket for perusal in his office, and the ex- 
 ceptional part of his present conduct was, that 
 he stopped in his breakfast to read this one 
 carefully then and there. It was not the rate 
 of exchange, or of freights, or assurances, or the 
 price of silks, or teas, which caught his atten- 
 tion, but that which followed these advices ; 
 and this, after having laid the letter down 
 and considered for a minute, he read out for 
 the l)enefit of his wife : — 
 
 ^' I shall forward to you by the Hercules, 
 
12 WILLIAM BATIIURST. 
 
 which sails on the 14th proximo, a female child, 
 of the age of five years, the daughter of Alex- 
 ander Cook, Esq., one of the largest merchants 
 in this town, and with whom, as you will re- 
 collect, we have from time to time done ex- 
 tensive business. ]\lr. Cook, a recent widoAver, 
 is anxious to save his only child, who has 
 lately shown signs of delicacy, from the effects 
 of that climate, so baneful to Europeans, which 
 killed her mother. He wishes the little girl 
 to be placed in some quiet family, where there 
 are young children, and where she would be 
 treated by the parents as much as possible 
 like one of their own. As he proposes to allow 
 a sum of three hundred pounds per annum 
 for the child's board and lodging, you will 
 probably find no difficulty in placing her in 
 some suitable family. Many clergymen would 
 doubtless gladly accept the charge ; or should 
 you yourself desire to undertake the care of 
 the little girl, Mr. Cook would of course feel 
 much gratified by the knowledge that his 
 
WILLIAM BATHURST. 13 
 
 daughter was a member of the household of one 
 so well known for the exactitude with which 
 he attends to all moral and religious duties. 
 Hum?" 
 
 "Poor little dear!'' cried Mrs. Johnstone. 
 *^ No mother, no relations in England appar- 
 ently. She ivould be a wicked, cruel woman 
 Avho neglected such a charge. Pretty crea- 
 ture !" 
 
 "The letter does not allude in any part to 
 the personal appearance of the little girl," re- 
 plied her husband, " and I am therefore at a 
 loss to know why you designate her as 'pretty'; 
 besides, beauty is a vanity, likewise a snare." 
 
 "All children are pretty at that age," said 
 Mrs. Johnstone. 
 
 " Three hundred a year !" observed Mr. John- 
 stone, who had fallen into a musing. 
 
 " It would be a great privilege," he con- 
 tinued, after a pause, "to superintend the 
 budding of this young flower, to guard her 
 from the manifold temptations of this wicked 
 
14 WILLIAM BATHURST. 
 
 world, to — she will be quite an heiress ! " 
 
 *' Heiress or not, I will do my best to sup- 
 ply the place of the mother she has lost, if you 
 decide to let her come here." 
 
 ^* Bless me I — I mean to say dear me ! for 
 we should guard against the slightest slip of 
 the unruly member, and the light use of the 
 words of blessing savours of profanity — it is 
 a quarter to nine, and the omnibus will be 
 passing presently. Harry, fetch my hat and 
 gloves. Think this matter over, Jane, and 
 we will talk of it in the evening." 
 
 Mr. Johnstone drew on his gloves, which he 
 buttoned carefully at the wrists, placed his 
 hat precisely on his head, took his umbrella, 
 and, walking solemnly round the gravel sweep, 
 passed out between his guardian griffins, a 
 most respectable, religious, well-to-do man, 
 who united the service of God and Mammon 
 in a highly-satisfactory manner. 
 
 Presently the city omnibus drew up, and 
 Mr. Johnstone took his seat in the left-hand 
 
WILLIAM BATHURST. 15 
 
 corner next the door, a place which was 
 always reserved for him. 
 
 '' Two minutes late !'^ said he, looking at 
 his gold hunter ; '' this will never do !'' 
 
 And the other passengers gazed with awe 
 upon the man who had a seat kept for him in 
 a vehicle of such pretensions equality as to 
 bear in its very name an expression of the 
 most advanced democratic sentiments, who 
 carried such a handsome watch, with such an 
 imposing monster engraven upon it, and wdio 
 could not spare two minutes of his important 
 time. And Mr. Johnstone liked to inspire 
 awe. 
 
 Riding inside an omnibus is essentially con- 
 ducive to meditation, and I fancy that what 
 city men, living in the suburbs of London, 
 have gained of time by the substitution of 
 railways under or above ground, they have 
 lost in opportunity for calm reflection. Seat- 
 ed in the vehicle which used to convey them 
 to their place of business twenty years ago, 
 
16 WILLIAM BATHURST. 
 
 they could neither read, nor talk, nor see out 
 of the window — they were forced to think. 
 And so Mr. Johnstone thought, and his reflec- 
 tions ran in this wise : — 
 
 " Three hundred a year ; for the first few 
 years, that will give upwards of two hundred 
 clear profit. I wonder whether the sum is 
 supposed to include dress, and, after a while, 
 pocket-money. As for her education, that will 
 cost nothing just at present, but when she 
 comes to require masters it will be a con- 
 sideration. Cook must be a warm man ; if he 
 should not marry again, this girl will be an 
 heiress ; and even if he does, I should think 
 something handsome will fall to the share of 
 this only child by the first marriage. She 
 will be brought up with Harry ; and surely, 
 with judicious treatment, the young people 
 might make a match of it. It would probably 
 be a good thing for Harry ; and if he liked to 
 invest his wife's money in the business, why — 
 but that is a very distant speculation. It will 
 
WILLIAM BATHURST. 17 
 
 look well to have this child placed under my 
 care ; I shall call myself her guardian — guard- 
 ian has a respectable sound about it, and I 
 need not say a word about the small pecuniary 
 remuneration I may receive for my trouble and 
 responsibility. People will say, what a re- 
 spectable Christian man Mr. Johnstone must 
 be, that this Mr. Cook, who is not related to 
 him, and only knows him by repute, should be 
 so eager to place his daughter under his 
 care !" 
 
 This was the counsel which Mr. Johnstone 
 took with himself ; and as, when it was 
 taken, he was well shaken, or, for some other 
 reason, it was rapid in its effects, and pene- 
 trated his mind so thoroughly, that he felt 
 no doubt but what it was his interest to receive 
 and do his best for this legitimate, well-pro- 
 vided foundling ; and by the time the omnibus 
 disgorged him at the Bank, he had finally de- 
 termined on his course of action. 
 
 As may have been gathered, he was a man 
 VOL. I. c 
 
18 WILLIAM BATIIURST. 
 
 of a serious turn of mind — not that his reli- 
 gion had any particular practical eflfect on his 
 mind or practice ; but circumstances had 
 thrown him in the way of profiting by the 
 profession of strict methodistic principles ; 
 and he had quietly fallen into the habit of 
 talking as if he were better than the rest of 
 his fellow-creatures, until at last he actually 
 believed that such was the case. Piety, in- 
 deed, had been the knife with which he had 
 opened his oyster. At the early age of 
 eighteen he had made the discovery that the 
 Church of England was itself one of the pomps 
 which it called upon its children to renounce, 
 and had so won the heart of a Wesleyan 
 uncle, who took him into his house of business, 
 and eventually made him a partner, initiating 
 him thereby into the secret, that the firm was 
 on the eve of bankruptcy. But the dissent- 
 ing connexion hang much together, and young 
 Johnstone, who was exceedingly regular in 
 his attendance at chapel, and charmingly 
 
WILLIAM BATHURST. 19 
 
 nasal in his singing and responses, had estab- 
 lished himself in the good graces of an elder 
 of the congregation, who had a warm income, 
 and a pleasant daughter, who was taken 
 as a sleeping partner into the firm, which was 
 once more set going by her dowry. 
 
 Johnstone was not so unwise or ungrateful 
 as to give up a course of conduct which had 
 proved so useful, especially as he had no taste 
 for the frivolities which were condemned by 
 the puritanic set with whom he had identified 
 himself ; while, on the other hand, " the sins 
 he was inclined to ^' were encouraged and 
 christened by them with the virtuous names 
 of Industry, Frugality, Self-respect, Proper 
 Pride, Firmness of Character. And so he 
 came in time to be an elder, a patriarch, a 
 leading man amongst a dissenting colony, 
 who were congregated in the neighbourhood 
 of Acton. 
 
 It must be confessed that when he first 
 discovered his armorial griffins, and settled at 
 
 c 2 
 
20 WILLIAM BATHURST. 
 
 Acton, he had a carnal longing to lapse into 
 the bosom of the more aristocratic establish- 
 ment ; and if he could have been a church- 
 warden and gained admission into the houses 
 of the better class of gentry residing about 
 there, he might have fallen away. But he 
 was not the man to drop the substantial im- 
 portance and consideration he enjoyed for the 
 shadow of improving the quality of his 
 gentility ; and he deferred his conversion 
 until such time as he should be rich enough 
 to force his superiors in social position to court 
 him and do him homage. 
 
 That any such worldly thought as that 
 it was slightly vulgar to be a dissenter had 
 ever entered the breast of Mr. Johnstone, 
 was of course entirely unsuspected by the 
 Bethesda congregation, none of whom would 
 have repudiated the idea with more horror, or 
 a firmer conviction that it was a calumny 
 direct from the manufactory of the craftsman 
 who is supposed to deserve the medal for 
 
WILLIAM BATHURST. 21 
 
 that sort of article, than Mrs. Bathurst, the 
 widow of a solicitor, a lady of strict opinions, 
 tender heart, innumerable prejudices, and a 
 tremendous bump of veneration, who lived at 
 Acton with a boy of ten years old, an only 
 child, and who, being a near neighbour of 
 the Johnstones, and in the same religious set, 
 had gradually fallen into a familiarity with 
 them, which by no means seemed likely to 
 breed contempt. It was to this lady that 
 Mrs. Johnstone, about three hours after her 
 husband's departure, carried the important 
 news of the probable accession to her family, 
 which had been mooted at breakfast that 
 morning. 
 
22 
 
 CHAPTER 11. 
 
 MRS. BATHURST, MASTER BATHURST, AND HORACE 
 BATHURST. 
 
 Mrs. Bathurst lived in a middling-sized 
 house, built on the plan of a large one. It 
 had a disproportionate hall, with an oak 
 staircase, and the kitchen and offices were 
 separated from the main building by the 
 length of a gallery, and, together with the 
 stables, a dog-kennel or two, a pigsty, and a 
 chicken establishment, formed quite a separate 
 quadrangle ; the ground of the yard being 
 paved with large stones, the interstices be- 
 tween which it would have been any man's 
 labour to have kept free from moss, conse- 
 
WILLIAM BATHURST. 23 
 
 quently they were not so cleared. All this 
 stood in the centre of about an acre of garden ; 
 but the trees were so fine, and the shrubbery 
 so thick and extensive, that it might have 
 been ten times as large, for all the eye could 
 from any point tell to the contrary. The 
 place had a great deal of wall about it. One 
 high wall divided the kitchen from the flower- 
 garden, another high wall shut out the yard, 
 while the entire premises were surrounded by 
 a third. These walls, which were, like the 
 house, of reddish brick, gave the place a 
 somewhat monastic appearance ; but then, in 
 revenge, they were covered with fruit-trees 
 of a rare excellence. Oh ! the peaches and 
 nectarines ! oh ! the pears, which came to 
 Elysian maturity on those seventeenth century 
 walls ! And then there was an enormous 
 mulberry-tree; — -just think of the real meaning 
 of .that ! Have you ever lived with a mul- 
 berry-tree, from which a ruthless fate has 
 torn you in later years ? If so, I pity the 
 
24 WILLIAM BATHURST. 
 
 pungency of your regrets, as you toss oc- 
 casionally on your sleepless couch ; I pity and 
 sympathise ! Oh ! to put on a brown holland 
 garment, which cannot be injured by any 
 amount of staining, and a hat of suflicicnt 
 brim to protect the neck from the luscious 
 shower (I wonder if the first Quaker was a 
 mulberry-eater?), and to wander out directly 
 after breakfast, on a sunny, sultry morning, 
 to the blissful tree, to wade over the purple 
 soil to the trunk, and, mounting up by ladder 
 or otherwise, to seat oneself on a convenient 
 branch, and devour ! For mulberries, like 
 kisses, must l)e culled by oneself, or they 
 are flavourless. I have often wondered 
 whether it would be a good bargain to strike 
 with Fate to live with a mulberry-tree for 
 five years, and then die of cholera ? Perhaps 
 the knowledge of impending sufferings would 
 injure the flavour ; and during the long 
 period of the year that the fruit is not ripe, 
 there would be no benefit derivable but the 
 
WILLIAM BATHURST. 25 
 
 privilege of keeping silkworms ; but then, on 
 
 the other hand But it is a difficult question. 
 
 Outside the house all was delightful, for 
 the gardener was likewise the gardener of 
 half a dozen other people, and could not be 
 perpetually sweeping up leaves, mowing the 
 grass, and marring the shrubs with his prun- 
 ing knife, so that jou could dig, and plant, 
 and water, and extemporise arbours, and en- 
 joy yourself; but inside all was prim. (He 
 was a genius who invented that ^NOv^i prim — 
 it is one of the most expressive in the Eng- 
 lish language, for the utterance of it forces 
 the face to look the thing.) The cook and 
 housemaid were sober-capped and prim ; the 
 boy, who came to the house every day to 
 clean knives and shoes, was prim ; the chairs, 
 tables, curtains, carpets, were as old-fashioned, 
 stright-backed, and prim as inanimate things 
 can be ; the cat was prim — but cats always 
 are ; and, by Minerva, Mrs. Bathurst herself 
 Avas prim ! 
 
26 WILLIAM BATHURST. 
 
 She was a fine tall lady of about fifty, who 
 made the most of her height and age, for she 
 always sat bolt upright on the edge of her 
 chair, in an attitude which added inches to 
 the former ; and she still wore a widow's cap, 
 which, with two bands of grizzled hair, which, 
 instead of being stowed away under it, were 
 brought prominently forward over her fore- 
 head, gave an air of at least another ten years 
 to the latter. Her eyes were grey, her nose 
 aquiline, her lips somewhat thin, and habitu- 
 ally compressed. The salient points of her 
 character were these : she had a real and 
 heart-felt desire to do her duty to the best of 
 her ability to God and man, but was not 
 always quite clear as to what that duty was; 
 it was necessary to her happiness to be dic- 
 tated to by some one in whom she was willing 
 to place unlimited confidence, and to be able 
 herself to exercise a like slightly tyrannical 
 influence over others. She liked to play 
 moon to somebody else's sun, and ought 
 
WILLIAM BATHURST. 27 
 
 properly to have been a Catholic, and lady 
 abbess, with a bishop to bully her, and a bevy 
 of nuns to bully. And yet bully is a strong 
 term, for she was of a kind and generous dis- 
 position, and really wished to forward the 
 happiness and well-being of all with whom she 
 came into contact ; she exacted no more 
 deference from those she deemed her inferiors 
 than she was willing and anxious to pay to 
 those whom she fancied her superiors. She 
 was very good, as it is called, to the poor — 
 getting up blanket clubs and soup kitchens 
 in their behoof, constantly visiting them, and 
 deluging them with good advice and tracts ; 
 and yet they did not much like her. They 
 thought that she took out her money's worth 
 in the gratification afforded to her vanity by 
 playing the lady patroness, and esteemed 
 themselves quits. 
 
 If you were to throw a hundred pound 
 note into a needy man's face, he would 
 probably pocket it with the affront, but he 
 
28 WILLIAM BATHURST. 
 
 would not feel very grateful to you ; and that 
 is somewhat the fashion in which a great 
 many well-meaning ladies confer their benefits 
 on the poor. Their manner arises merely 
 from ignorance of human nature, and a sort 
 of indistinct idea that, because a man has 
 rough hands and shabby clothes, he must 
 have blunt sensibilities. They imagine that 
 the lower classes are different in some vague 
 way from themselves, and do not realise the 
 idea that the emotions of the heart and soul 
 are not lodged with a man's balance at his 
 bankers, but are just as common to those who 
 are ignorant of the very nature of the three 
 per cents., as to the millionnaire. They can- 
 not comprehend that when they have taught 
 a man to fawn, they have degraded him, and 
 brought him consequently nearer to the vice 
 and crime from which they honestly desire to 
 shield him, by destroying that self-respect 
 which is one of his best bulwarks against 
 temptation. 
 
WILLIAM BATHURST. 29 
 
 These things are beginning to be under- 
 stood now, but there is still a lamentable 
 amount of ignorance regarding them ; and at 
 the time of which 1 am writing, such senti- 
 ments would have been thought revolutionary 
 — Mrs. Bathurst would have esteemed them 
 wicked. 
 
 So long as her husband was alive, she got 
 on well enough ; he was a clever, sensible 
 man, who was fond of his wife, and understood 
 her thoroughly, and she loved and honoured 
 him with all her heart ; but on his death, 
 some six years back, she had fallen into a 
 gloomy state, to which the teaching of a non- 
 conformist minister in the neighbourhood was 
 particularly congenial; and having, by chance, 
 had some of his printed sermons put into her 
 hand, she had been attracted by them to his 
 chapel, and had ever since remained one of 
 the principal members of his congregation. 
 The Eev. John Pogram may have been a very 
 well-meaning man, but certainly he was a very 
 
30 WILLIAM BATIIURST. 
 
 shallow, ignorant, vulgar, and self-satisfied 
 one ; and how he should have been able to 
 make an educated lady believe in him, rather 
 than in the learned, unassuming gentleman, 
 whose clerical claims to preach and teach 
 were legitimate, I do not know. Or rather, 
 I cannot say here, as the question is a long 
 and somewhat dry one ; but there are a great 
 many people who, when they see 
 
 " Fools rush in where angels fear to tread,'' 
 
 conclude that the fools are wise and trust- 
 worthy people who know all about it, and 
 that the angels are nincompoops. Bear in 
 mind, young man, that in all your dealings 
 with the mass of your fellow-creatures, espe- 
 cially the female portion of them, the higher 
 price you ticket yourself^ the more you will 
 fetch. 
 
 However, Mr. Pogram himself sank into 
 insignificance in Mrs. Bathurst's eyes, by the 
 side of Mr. Johnstone, principally, I believe, 
 
WILLIAM BATHURST. 31 
 
 because of the immense deference which the 
 somewhat oleaginous minister paid to the 
 man on whom he Avas in a great measure de- 
 pendent for the keeping up of his chapel, and 
 the consequent supply of sufficient dross to 
 provide for his own creature comforts. 
 
 Poor Mr. Pogram ! What right have I to 
 sneer at him ? He had a female Pogram, and 
 several small Pograms, to support; and I 
 daresay he was not more of a toady than 
 many a man who holds a regular commission 
 in the Church Militant is to his patron ; but 
 the flattery of a coarsely-reared, uneducated 
 man is a more revolting thing than that of one 
 who has tact and refinement ; and poor Pogram 
 was provoking. 
 
 Mrs. Johnstone found Mrs. Bathurst in her 
 garden, and looking limper than usual, as she 
 wore a broad-brimmed hat, and no shawl, and 
 an apron, and had thick dog-skin gloves on, 
 being engaged in cutting off the dead roses, 
 and collecting them in a basket, to be mixed 
 
32 WILLIAM BATHURST. 
 
 with some nastiness, and stored away in the 
 China vases which stood in her drawing- 
 room. 
 
 The basket was held by her little boy 
 William, a child of about ten, with flaxen 
 hair, blue eyes, which never rested on any- 
 thing for more than a moment, and a re- 
 markably pretty mouth. He seemed to con- 
 sider himself as assisting at a most important 
 ceremony, and, judging from the care he took 
 to prevent such an accident, to think that the 
 dropping of a rose corpse would be attended 
 by some great misfortune, would offend, per- 
 haps, one of the fairies who took especial care 
 of the flowers. For the garden where he 
 spent so great a part of his life, alone, was 
 haunted ground to him ; and though he was 
 never indulged with those profane story-books 
 which so gild the early years of other children, 
 his imagination supplied the void, and peopled 
 every corner, bower, and shady nook with 
 creatures of its own. 
 
WILLIAM BATHURST. 33 
 
 Dull ? No child is dull un watched by 
 its elders ; for it has its own schemes, theories, 
 experiments, which even a mother's mind 
 cannot comprehend. Watch, unobserved, a 
 group of little ones at play ; why, what we 
 call play is their real earnest part of life ; it 
 is the sober discourse of grown-up people ; it 
 is the lessons they learn, and the '^ rational " 
 amusements they share with their parents 
 which are the shadowy and unpractical things 
 to them. Take a child to an exhibition, a 
 museum ; show him this, that, and the other, 
 explain their uses, and endeavour to interest 
 him ; but do not suppose, however successful 
 you may apparently have been, that you have 
 managed to adapt your mind to his. He has 
 seen everything with eyes far different from 
 yours, and while you have been showing him 
 the principle upon which a screw steamer is 
 propelled, he has been discovering new worlds 
 in it. Infancy is a Garden of Eden, and as 
 the little inhabitant plucks apple after apple 
 
 VOL. I. D 
 
34 WILLIAM BATHURST. 
 
 from the Tree of Knowledge, the delights of 
 Paradise fade, for joy lies in imagination, 
 not fruition ; and if knowledge is power, 
 ignorance and inexperience constitute happi- 
 ness. But then that ignorance should be 
 universal, not exceptional, or else counteract- 
 ing influences will intervene to destroy its 
 effect ; so we must even go with the stream, 
 and waste our lives in learning how little we 
 can learn. 
 
 Mrs. Johnstone had brought her own 
 children with her, to William Bathurst's 
 great delight, who, on the first glimpse he 
 got of his playmates, gave the basket to his 
 mother, and ran towards them, crying — 
 
 " Oh ! Mary, Harry, I am so glad you are 
 come ! Do come and see the tree where I 
 saw the squirrel yesterday !" 
 
 Leaving their children to amuse themselves 
 as they pleased, the two mothers had a long 
 gossip, first walking about the garden, and 
 then in the drawinir-room. 
 
WILLIAM BATHURST. 35 
 
 "How kind, how Christian of Mr. John- 
 stone to receive this little girl !'' cried Mrs. 
 Bathurst, when the other had exhausted her 
 budget ; " and, oh ! what a blessed privilege 
 her father must consider it to place her in 
 such hands !" 
 
 " Why, it is all very well for Mr. John- 
 stone," said the other, " who is in the city 
 all day ; but the whole trouble, care, and 
 management of the child will fall on me. 
 And it is very evident, from the way you 
 speak," she added with a smile, " that my 
 husband will get the credit. However, I will 
 do my best for the poor thing." 
 
 **Well, now," said Mrs. Bathurst, "I am 
 anxious to consult you upon a matter of my 
 own. I invariably wish, so far as it is con- 
 sistent with my duty, to follow out my poor 
 husband's last desires ; and I know that he 
 always intended William to go to school at 
 eleven, and he will be that in August." 
 
 *' Dear me ! why, Harry is going to school 
 
 1)2 
 
6 WILLIAM BATHURST. 
 
 in the autumn, and I dread it so, you cannot 
 think." 
 
 " And yet you have a girl." 
 
 Mrs. Johnstone took hold of Mrs. Bathurst's 
 \vrist, and gave it a slight squeeze. 
 
 *' If it is for his good, you know, why — 
 what a pretty pair they make, do they 
 not?" 
 
 And so tliey did, especially to a mother's 
 eye. They being William and Mary, who 
 were standing within sight of the window, 
 with their arms round each other's necks, 
 glancing upwards at Harry, who was both 
 literally and metaphorically up a tree, having 
 clambered up a large one in pursuit of the 
 squirrel, who had again deigned to exhibit 
 himself, and finding it somewhat difficult to 
 get down again. 
 
 "'^ What profession is William to be brought 
 up to?" continued Mrs. Johnstone, with a 
 thoughtful brow; for she was at heart an ar- 
 rant though an unpractised match-maker; 
 
WILLIAM BATHURST. 37 
 
 and unaware of the sudden and revolutionary 
 transformations wliich take place in the heart 
 and voice of man at the age of fifteen, after 
 which period it is impossible to guess whether 
 he will retain the organ or the sweetheart of 
 his childish days. 
 
 ^^ His worldly prospects would be best con- 
 sidered by his following his father's profession 
 of the law/' replied Mrs. Bathurst, '^ as his 
 uncle, Mr. Horace Bathurst, who now carries 
 on the business, has promised to pay for his 
 being articled, and finally to admit him into 
 the firm. But that is a very future con- 
 sideration," she added, Avith a smile ; ^' my 
 present difiiculty is about sending him to 
 school — I should like to ask Mr. Johnstone's 
 advice upon it." 
 
 " Mr. Johnstone will be very happy to give 
 you every assistance he can, I am sure. He 
 does not like the usual style of education for 
 boys, I know, and thinks they ought to learn 
 somethinf? instead of Greek and Latin. I do 
 
38 ^YILLIAM BATHURST. 
 
 not understand the merits of the question 
 myself, but I know that Harry is to go to a 
 school where they teach botany and chemistry, 
 and phrenology, and I don't know what. But 
 I wonder that you do not consult your brother- 
 in-law," added the lady, who did not see that 
 Mr. Johnstone was the phoenix Mrs. Bath- 
 urst esteemed him, wives being occasionally 
 lamentably blind to their husband's perfec- 
 tions. 
 
 ^^ Ah ! there is my difficulty/' replied Mrs. 
 Bathurst. ^^ ^Ir. Horace is the trustee under 
 my poor husband's will, and would be my boy's 
 guardian if anything happened to me ; and, in 
 short, I have felt obliged to ask his advice, 
 and he is coming down here this afternoon to 
 stay for a day or two, and talk to me about 
 it. But oh ! my dear, he is unconverted ! In 
 tlie wicked days before T had my call, I be- 
 longed to the worldly Establishment; my poor 
 husband lived and, alas ! died a member of 
 that offshoot of Rome ; my poor child was 
 
WILLIAM BATHURST. 39 
 
 baptized according to its forms, and his uncle 
 Horace was his godfather. I much fear he 
 will urge my tender lamb's being placed under 
 the care of one of those time-serving shep- 
 herds who devour the flock ; and I mistrust 
 myself lest an over-anxiety for my boy's tem- 
 poral prosperity should cause me to neglect 
 his eternal interests. I should like to consult 
 Mr. Johnstone." 
 
 '^ He will come down and see you, I am 
 sure, any evening you like," replied Mrs. 
 Johnstone. "' But, as far as his advice or 
 example goes, you may make your mind easy, 
 for the school he has selected for Harry is kept 
 by a member of the Church of England, and 
 rather a high churchman too, they say." 
 
 ^^ You amaze me !" cried Mrs. Bathurst. 
 ^' And are you not very uneasy ?" 
 
 ^' Why, what can be done? There are no 
 good schools kept by masters of our persua- 
 sion, for all the good scholars who have the 
 gift of teaching seem to go through the 
 
40 WILLIAM BATHURST. 
 
 Universities. And, after all, it does not make 
 much difference ; you, my dear, have but 
 lately joined us, and have only seen the bright 
 side ; now I have been born and bred a dis- 
 senter, and can see that there is just as much 
 worldliness amongst ourselves as amongst 
 church folk, and, as a natural result of our 
 stricter professions, a trifle more hypocrisy. 
 But your brother-in-law has arrived, and is 
 coming up the path. Dear me ! what a quan- 
 tity of luggage ! There are two men to carry 
 it up from tlie garden-gate. Good-bye. I 
 will find my children — don't you trouble ; you 
 attend to your brother-in-law." 
 
 The procession, which was now approaching 
 the house by the gravel path, struck little 
 William Bathurst, who watched it from behind 
 a tree, with an awe which was tempered by 
 hopeful expectation. First of all came a man 
 staggering under the load of some large thing 
 done up in matting, from a rupture in which 
 appeared the likeness of a grey horse's head. 
 
WILLIAM BATHURST. 41 
 
 Next came another man, who bore in one 
 hand, or, rather, between one arm and cheek, 
 a shapeless brown paper parcel, in the other a 
 beautiful three-masted, undisguised ship. 
 Lastly followed a tall, spare gentleman, with 
 a stoop in his shoulders, an eye-glass in his 
 eye, and a small carpet-bag in his hand. It 
 might have been a European traveller ap- 
 proaching the court of a semi-civilized king, 
 with propitiatory presents — but it was not ; it 
 was a bachelor uncle and godfather, whose 
 ideas concerning the obligations imposed upon 
 him by those relations were vague, and know- 
 ledge of children vaguer — drawing near a 
 nephew and godson, to whom, as well as to 
 his mother, he desired to do his duty, so far 
 as he could discover what that was. 
 
 It was not often that he came into contact 
 with his brother's widow and her encumbrance, 
 and he did not look forward to such occasions 
 with much delight, being a man who liked his 
 ease and his bachelor habits, and who did not 
 
42 WILLIAM BATIIURST. 
 
 push the virtue of self-denial to any exag- 
 gerated limits. Women and children were 
 rather a puzzle to him ; he could not make 
 out what would interest them, and so took 
 refuge, as a general rule, in trying to amuse 
 those into whose society he was unprofes- 
 sionally brought. But he was forbidden this 
 resource in the present instance, being firmly 
 persuaded that, at the slightest show of levity, 
 his sister-in-law would fall at his feet in strong 
 convulsions- This awkwardness arose prin- 
 cipally from the great love Horace Bathurst 
 had borne his brother, and his consequent 
 strong desire to be kind to his widow and 
 child, which placed him much in the position 
 of a cat trying to show her affection for a 
 jiedgehog ; he was always afraid of running 
 against some unforeseen frickle, and felt in Mrs. 
 Bathurst's presence as if he were in church ; 
 while, to sleep in her house, was a real penance, 
 as he always, on awaking in the morning, ex- 
 perienced a sensation as if there were a corpse 
 
WILLIAM BATHURST. 43 
 
 on the premises, whose interment was to be 
 the occupation of the day. Two serious ques- 
 tions occupied his mind as he walked along 
 the gravel path. How should he address his 
 sister-in-law — as Mrs. Bathurst, or Emily? 
 Should he embrace the bambino? He de- 
 cided to be ruled by circumstances, i.e,, the 
 demeanour of the former, and the cleanliness of 
 the latter. 
 
 Mrs. Bathurst met him at the door, and the 
 aspect of so many toys for her son softened 
 her manner to that extent, that she got called 
 by her Christian name on the spot. The boy 
 was not present, and so the question with re- 
 spect to him was adjourned. 
 
 WiUiam Bathurst, having parted from his 
 little friends, hid himself, as 1 said, like our bash- 
 ful progenitor, among the trees of the garden, 
 and watched the arrivals with throbbing 
 heart. One parcel was hopeful, and another 
 doubtful ; but the ship must surely be a toy, 
 and his uncle could not well want it for him- 
 
44 WILLIAM BATIIURST. 
 
 self. It was also extremely unlikely that a 
 sedate person like his mother should indulge 
 in juvenile aquatics. No, it was evident that 
 Uncle Horace intended to act towards him like 
 a relation, a godfather, and a gentleman ; and 
 the ship was his. Susan the maid found him 
 revolving these questions, and carried him off 
 to be washed and brushed ; so that when, at 
 length, he was introduced into the drawing- 
 room, he was pretty kissing for a princess. 
 
 " Dear me ! " cried Mr. Horace, whose 
 boyish associations were not of so sweet and 
 unsoiled a nature. " How nice it is ! Why, 
 I declare, it might be a girl I And, ah ! hoAV 
 very singular ! that is, of course, I suppose, 
 it might be expected, but how very much it 
 reminded me of my poor brother just now. 
 The nose, of course, is different — it is not 
 old enough to have a nose yet ; l)ut its eyes 
 and moutli are just like his. Well, Billy, 
 my boy, don't be shy. There is something 
 in the hall there which may amuse yoii. I 
 
WILLIAM BATHURST. 45 
 
 have brought it a toy or so from London, 
 Emily, if you don't object !" 
 
 " Object ? Oh ! on the contrary, I am only 
 too grateful for your kindness. You cannot 
 please a mother better than by taking notice 
 of her child," said Mrs. Bathurst, smiling. 
 
 " Hum, that is worth remembering," said 
 Mr. Horace, to himself. '' Well, then," he 
 added aloud, "' there is a ship which has just 
 sailed into this port, Billy." 
 
 ^' Your uncle speaks metaphorically, Wil- 
 liam ; of course a ship could not sail along a 
 road where there is no water !" 
 
 '^ I should like to see the ship," said Willy, 
 curiositv and his uncle's bonhomie overcominf]^ 
 his shyness. 
 
 '^Come along then, my lad," said Mr. Horace 
 rising, and they all three adjourned to the 
 hall. 
 
 The ship was indeed a wonderful and delect- 
 able affair, with a real keel and a real rudder, 
 which would positively steer the vessel, which 
 
46 WILLIAM BATHURST. 
 
 was to the boy an extraordinary thing for a 
 rudder to do ; and real sails, which might be 
 hoisted or lowered with real ropes, by means 
 of real blocks ; and a real deck, below which 
 was a real black hold, as might be proved 
 by lifting up one of the hatchways. 
 
 When the interest in this wonderful piece 
 of naval architecture began to flag, a rocking 
 horse was stripped of matting and discovered. 
 
 ** Is this for me too !" cried William, in an 
 ecstasy of delight. 
 
 *'Yes, that is for you too. I thought, 
 Emily, that it would make a nice exercise for 
 it on a wet day. The man in the shop also 
 told me that rocking was not so noisy as other 
 childish games, which I should think would 
 be an advantage on those occasions when it 
 is confined by weather to the house." 
 
 The boy had his first ride upon the spot. 
 
 '^ It occurred to me," said Mr. Horace again, 
 when William had well learned how to rock 
 his horse backwards and forwards, and free- 
 
WILLIAM BATIIURST. 47 
 
 ing another parcel from a great many brown 
 paper envelopes as he spoke — ^^it occurred 
 to me that, as you were a person who 
 went in — or rather, I should say, who thought 
 very seriously upon religious matters, and as 
 I am myself, I believe, in some way respon- 
 sible for the lad's orthodoxy, that it would be 
 better that all his presents should not be of a 
 secular character ; and so I have brought him 
 a Noah's Ark. I think you will find that the; 
 figures are more like the animals they profess 
 to represent than they used to be in the days 
 of our youth. Perhaps this might be re- 
 served as a Sunday Loy." 
 
 It is utterly impossible to attempt to depict 
 the expression of horror which Mrs. Bath- 
 urst's face here assumed. 
 
 " Ah ! well, well/' continued the old peace- 
 at-any-price time-server, " I thought it might 
 be made subservient to instruction in the Old 
 Testament history ; but no doubt you are 
 right, it is better not to allow anything which 
 
48 WILLIAM BATHURST. 
 
 might possibly conduce to cheerfulness or re- 
 creation on the Sunday/' 
 
 Tlie Noah's Ark, which was the largest then 
 known — for they have been increasing ever 
 since, and will grow to the size of the original 
 soon — was much admired, and then this 
 indefatigable uncle produced a small brass can- 
 non. 
 
 '' This used to be my favourite sort of play- 
 thing when I was a boy," said he. ^^ The 
 harder you ram it down, Billy, the louder the 
 bang !" 
 
 " What ! Do you mean to say that it is a 
 real cannon?" cried Mrs. Bathurst. 
 
 ^'Yes, and here is some real gunpowder 
 too," he added, taking a small packet of that 
 combustible out of his pocket. 
 
 But the tender mother, doubtful about the 
 cannon, put her decided veto upon the powder 
 passing into her boy's possession. The former 
 Avas finally given over to him, blocked up with 
 cork and paper, but the latter was thrown 
 
WILLIAM BATHURST. 49 
 
 away; and so with his gun spiked and his 
 ammunition convoy cut off, any artilleristic 
 talents which may have lain dormant in Wil- 
 liam Bathurst's head were fated never to be 
 developed. The thought of this did not dis- 
 tress him, however, and the day was one of 
 blissful wonders, to be marked with a white 
 stone for ever. The presents were delightful ; 
 his uncle, with an eye-glass which he kept in 
 his eye by a conj uring trick, was delightful ; 
 and the change in the routine of the house- 
 hold habits was eminently delightful. For 
 Mrs. Bathurst, who led the most retired life 
 imaginable, had fallen into nursery habits, 
 and was now worried considerably by her de- 
 sire to receive her guest with proper hospi- 
 tality. 
 
 Thus the late dinner, from which he was 
 excluded, and which consequently became 
 mysterious — the elaborate dessert, to which he 
 was admitted — the wine, to his previous ex- 
 perience a rare article, one glass of which was 
 
 VOL. I. E 
 
50 WILLIAM BATHURST. 
 
 taken in the performance of a rite on birth- 
 days, and other such grand occasions, but 
 which this wonderful uncle drank as you 
 would tea, in the most careless and unim- 
 pressed manner — all was strange. But the 
 climax was to come. After a while. Uncle 
 Horace, remarking that it was a fine even- 
 ing, expressed a wish for a turn in the garden, 
 and proposed to him, William Bathurst, to 
 come with him. He took him up first into 
 his bedroom, where there were all sorts of in- 
 teresting and unknown instruments on the 
 dressing-table, and changed his coat, and they 
 then strolled out, and Uncle Horace did this : He 
 took out of the pocket of the coat he had 
 just put on, a leather case, which was seen, 
 when opened, to contain certain cylindrical 
 brown things, something like sticks of choco- 
 late. One of these he took in his left hand, 
 and then replacing the case, he produced the 
 smallest knife William had ever seen, and 
 with it pricked the end of the brown thing, 
 
WILLIAM BATHURST. 51 
 
 which he then put in his mouth. After this, 
 from another pocket, he took a silver box, 
 which proved to contain small fireworks, one 
 of which he let off and applied, while yet 
 fizzing, to the other end of the brown thing, 
 at which he commenced to suck vigorously. 
 The brown thing ignited, and gave out a 
 great deal of light blue smoke, which Uncle 
 Horace continued to draw into his mouth and 
 puff out again, so long as the brown thing 
 lasted, filling the air thereby with the most 
 delicious aromatic odour. 
 
 He, William, was drawn out in the mean- 
 while to talk freely about himself and his 
 plans ; the extent of his acquirements, the 
 nature of his amusements, the games he had 
 with the little Johnstones — all was unre- 
 servedly told. It is true that he withheld 
 the fact of his devoted attachment to Mary 
 Johnstone, and the marriage engagement 
 which had passed between them ; but then 
 that was a delicate subject to touch upon, 
 
 i: 2 
 
 LIBRARY 
 
 uNivERsiTf Of niworf 
 
52 WILLIAM BATHURST. 
 
 anJ, besides, was not his own secret. He 
 gathered boldness, however, to ask his uncle 
 two questions, the precursors of a legion which 
 followed on the morrow. 
 
 ^^ Why do you do that, uncle ?" 
 
 ^^ What ? — smoke ? — because I like it, my 
 boy." 
 
 Satisfactory, though not explanatory. 
 
 ^^Why do you call me 'it'?'' 
 
 Horace Bathurst stopped short in his 
 walk. 
 
 " Bless me ! — observes !" he muttered, and 
 ruminated for some minutes. ^^ Why, you 
 see, Billy," he replied at length, '' you have 
 grown up into such a big boy since I last saw 
 you ; but when you were a little chap, I could 
 never remember whether you were a boy or 
 a girl, and so I called you it, which would do 
 for either. But I will give you your sex in 
 future, if I think of it." 
 
 By the time the cigar was finished it was 
 dusk, so they went in ; and when Mr. Horace 
 
WILLIAM BATHURST. 53 
 
 had rechanged his coat, they repaired to the 
 drawing-room, where they found Mrs. Bathurst 
 and candles. Presently tea came in ; and 
 when it was drunk and cleared away, the 
 beneficent uncle produced yet another miracu- 
 lous present, consisting of several round 
 pieces of cardboard, with figures upon them 
 of little boys in swings, and little girls with 
 skipping-ropes, and men on horseback ; and 
 when these were fixed to a holder which 
 pierced them in the centre, upon which they 
 could be made, by a turn of the finger, to 
 revolve rapidly, and held before a looking- 
 glass, the person who looked at the reflection 
 through certain holes pierced round the edge 
 of the cardboard, seemed to see the boys 
 swinging, the girls skipping, and the men 
 galloping, Avhich was a phenomenon perfectly 
 bewildering. 
 
 However, this wonderful day came to an 
 end at last, and William went to bed an 
 hour after his usual time ; and as it was 
 
54 WILLIAxM BATIIURST. 
 
 Saturday night, his mother felt terrible qualms 
 of conscience lest so many novelties should 
 distract the boy's attention from his religious 
 exercises on the morrow. And indeed her 
 fears were well-grounded. 
 
55 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 THE FIRST STEP OUT OF CHILDHOOD DISCUSSED. 
 
 Mr. Horace Bathurst had come down from 
 London with the intention of staying from 
 the Saturday till the Tuesday, that so he 
 might have time and opportunity for a due 
 observation of his nephew before giving his 
 final opinion as to what course it would be 
 wise to adopt with reference to the boy's 
 education. 
 
 Now he was a cautious man, with lament- 
 ably few prejudices, and a cool reason, which, 
 enabling him to see clearly the 2)7vs and cons 
 of every question, gave him a great deal of 
 trouble in arriving at conclusions, which more 
 
56 WILLIAM BATHURST. 
 
 impulsive iind less rational men would have 
 jumped at at once. In his profession, thi^ 
 disposition led him to take counsel's opinion 
 on a profusion of points upon which he was 
 himself perfectly competent to decide ; and 
 in private life he was always glad to throw 
 the responsibility of decision upon anybody's 
 shoulders who would bear it. He was, there- 
 fore, much relieved by a note which was 
 brought on Saturday evening to Mrs. Bathurst 
 from Mr. Johnstone, saying that he had heard 
 from his wife that Mrs. Bathurst wished to 
 know some particulars concerning the school 
 to which he intended to send his son Harry ; 
 and that if she would give him some break- 
 fast on Monday morning, he would defer his 
 journey up to town for an omnibus or two, 
 and would afford Mr. Horace Bathurst every 
 information in his power. 
 
 I regret to say that the intervening Sunday 
 was contemplated with a feeling almost 
 amounting to dread by the last-named gentle- 
 
WILLIAM BATHURST. 57 
 
 man. When be got up early in the morning, 
 and reflected upon the number of hours which 
 must elapse before it would be time to go to 
 bed again, his heart fairly sank within him, 
 and he considered whether a colic might not 
 be a good thing ; but remembering the fuss 
 that would be made if he declared himself ill, 
 he determined to brave it out, and go down- 
 stairs at once. 
 
 A man could hardly be solemnized to death 
 in one day, however long it might be ; and 
 yet, when he entered the breakfast-room and 
 greeted his sister-in-law, he thought it possi- 
 ble ; for she had got her Sunday gown, Sun- 
 day cap, Sunday mittens, Sunday manners 
 on, and affected the beholder, in a minor de- 
 gree, like the Gorgon's head. The bread also 
 was stale, and stale bread was one of Mr. 
 Horace's pet aversions. But his great dif- 
 ficulty was to know what to talk about, secu- 
 lar questions being quite tabooed, and religion 
 being ticklish ground, as he did not quite 
 
58 WILLIAM BATHURST. 
 
 know the exact distinctive tenets of the sect 
 she belonged to ; and if interrogated on the 
 subject, could only have replied with the 
 orthodox soldier who was much disgusted 
 at finding that his colonel was strict but ir- 
 regular in religion, that she was ^' a Papist, 
 or Methodist, or Atheist, or something of that 
 sort." 
 
 Another thing which perplexed this poor 
 fish, who found himself so very much out of 
 his accustomed water, was the baptismal en- 
 gagement he had formerly entered into on 
 behalf of his nephew, and which he had an 
 idea Avas connected with some customary pro- 
 ceeding independent of the presentation of a 
 silver mug. 
 
 At length his face brightened, and, think- 
 ing he had hit it, he suddenly exclaimed : 
 
 *^ I should like to hear Billy his cate- 
 chism." 
 
 '' Well, to tell the truth, I fancy that he 
 has forgotten it," replied Mrs. Bathurst; 
 
WILLIAM BATHURST. 59 
 
 "for I have not encouraged him to learn it 
 lately. Mr. Pogram, the minister under 
 whom I sit, does not approve of the Church 
 Catechism, as he considers that it contains 
 the doctrine of baptismal regeneration." 
 
 " Oh, indeed, I beg pardon. The Col- 
 lect, then — pshaw ! how stupid I am ! Of 
 course you will not approve of a collect? 
 Well, then, the Creed — you do not disagree 
 with that? The Lord's Prayer — that must 
 be all right, surely ; and the Ten Command- 
 ments? Mr. Pogram has no particular objec- 
 tion to the Ten Commandments ? Very good. 
 Billy, come here, and say the Creed, the 
 Lord's Prayer, and the Ten Commandments, 
 in the vulgar tongue." 
 
 Billy was not very fluent with the first and 
 third, and so his mother suggested the pro- 
 priety of his saying half a dozen hymns, 
 which he did with great rapidity and precision, 
 only, as most of them were in the same metre, 
 he occasionally transplanted lines from one to 
 
60 WILLIAM BATHURST. 
 
 another, which did not tend to make the 
 meaning less obscure. 
 
 When it seemed to Mr. Horace that the 
 day had lasted about a week, his sister-in-law 
 looked at her watch — hurriedly, and as if it 
 were not quite a correct thing to do on the 
 Sunday — and announced that it was past ten, 
 and time to go and get ready for chapel, sup- 
 posing that her visitor would go to the church. 
 But he said no, he would accompany her; 
 for he thought he might as well do the thing 
 thoroughly for once, now he was in for it ; 
 and he was rather curious to hear what sort 
 of preacher this was, who had gained such 
 influence over her mind. But 
 
 " His heart grew sick with the nonsense and stuff of it, 
 And saying like Eve, when she ate the apple, 
 ' I wanted a taste, and here there's enough of it !' 
 I flung out " 
 
 No; he did not *^ fling out of the little 
 chapel," like Mr. Browning, because that 
 would have been rude to his sister-in-law, but 
 he would have done so if he had been alone. 
 
WILLIAM BATHURST. 61 
 
 For the preacher, having neither education 
 nor genius, was obliged to trust to mannerism, 
 and veil his ignorance and shallowness by a 
 torrent of conventional phrases and expres- 
 sions, which, to unaccustomed ears, were per- 
 fectly impious. I do not think that poor Mr. 
 Pogram was a hypocrite — all oil and cant 
 without, and a sneer within — but certainly 
 his style was calculated to give a refined 
 stranger that impression. 
 
 For an educated and intelligent mind to 
 hear doctrines, which it is in the habit of ap- 
 proaching with veneration and awe, made the 
 pegs on which to hang strained sophisms, 
 vulgar quibbles, and irreverent dogmatisms, 
 is so loathsome an infliction, that tolerance 
 becomes a difficult virtue to exercise, until 
 reflection points out that, as education and 
 refinement lessen the demand for cant, the 
 supply will, in like proportion, diminish ; for 
 in religion and politics, as well as commerce, 
 great is Free Trade. 
 
62 WILLIAM BATHURST. 
 
 Mr. Horace Bathurst felt that be could not 
 stand a second help of Pograra ; and so he 
 walked over to Kew in the afternoon, and let 
 his sister-in-law, and her son, go to the chapel 
 without him, much to her regret, for the 
 sermon was of so stirring a nature, that she 
 considered that it must have had some awak- 
 ening effect upon him, as even Billy was not 
 half so sleepy as usual, and only required a 
 poke occasionally. It did not occur to her 
 that the lad was thinking of those mundane 
 toys which had been heaped upon him in 
 such profusion the day before. 
 
 When Mr. Horace returned from his walk, 
 it was dinner time ; and the severity of the 
 meal was tempered by the sensual gratification 
 of blunting a very sharp appetite, and another 
 turn in the garden afterwards, with his nephew 
 and cigar, wiled away an hour in a manner at 
 least as grateful to the boy as to the man ; 
 for it was an amusing thing to see how the 
 sick-monkey expression, which had drawn 
 
WILLIAM BATHURST. 63 
 
 down the corners of his mouth all diiy, 
 changed suddenly to his week-day look of 
 childish joyousness directly Master Billy got 
 out of the maternal sight and hearing. 
 
 After tea, however, the appearance of things 
 in general was enough to give anyone, with 
 whose constitution moral pickles do not agree, 
 the indigestion and blue devils for a week. 
 Mrs. Bathurst sat at the table bolt upright, 
 reading a work . by some Scotch divine, who 
 had devoted his cheerful existence to the 
 endeavour to establish the joyous doctrine 
 that the great majority of human beings, say 
 nine hundred thousand nine hundred out of 
 every million were predestined to everlasting 
 torment from all eternity ; and the expression 
 of her face was such as one would expect to 
 see on that of a kind-hearted person contem- 
 plating such a scheme of Providence. 
 
 As reading seemed to be the order of the 
 evening, Mr. Horace went to the library, and 
 fetched one of his poor brother's favourite 
 
64 WILLIAM BATHURST. 
 
 books, ^vliich he settled himself down to peruse, 
 
 ^*What are you reading, Uncle Horace?" 
 asked Billy, who had got the fidgets, 
 and judged physiognomically that his uncle's 
 studies were of a lighter cast than his 
 mother's. 
 
 " A volume of sermons, Billy." 
 
 " Whose sermons ?" 
 
 '* Those of the Rev. Lawrence Sterne." 
 
 ^' Do not interrupt your uncle, William," 
 cried Mrs. Bathurst. 
 
 But Billy, who had detected a decided 
 twinkle in the avuncular eye, and a humor- 
 ous twitch of the avuncular mouth, was 
 curious to see the sermon which produced 
 such unwonted effects ; so he stole unper- 
 ceived behind Mr. Horace's chair, and peeped 
 over his shoulder. 
 
 Presently he burst into a shout of laughter, 
 which produced a most fearful jar on the 
 nerves of his mother, wound up as they were 
 to Calvinistic pitch. 
 
WILLIAM BATHURST. 65 
 
 . " William !" she cried. '^ Laughing on the 
 Sabbath ! Oh ! you "svicked, wicked boy ! go 
 to bed at once, sir!" 
 
 "It was something in my book, Emily, 
 which tickled his fancy,'' said Mr. Horace, in 
 extenuation. " The phrases of these old 
 divines are sometimes very quaint, and no 
 doubt " 
 
 " You are very kind to excuse him ; but 
 it is nearly his bed-time, and as he is in a 
 giddy humour, he had better go off at once." 
 
 And the uncle, thinking it would be slight 
 penance, indeed, to the lad to get out of the 
 room, said no more. 
 
 What made the boy laugh I do not exactly 
 know. But as the edition of Sterne which 
 Mr. Horace Avas reading contained all that 
 author's works bound in one volume, it is just 
 possible that the leaves may have inadvert- 
 ently turned over from the sermons to Tris- 
 tram Shandy. 
 
 In whatever way Mr. Horace Bathurst be- 
 
 VOL. I. F 
 
C^Q WILLIAM BATIIURST. 
 
 guiled the evening, he did get rid of it at 
 hist ; and when he turned into bed with a 
 sigh of relief, he felt that he would deserve, 
 and be willing to undergo, any mortal cala- 
 mity, if he ever spent another Sunday under 
 that roof. 
 
 When he came down in the morning, he 
 found the stiff and pompous Mr. Johnstone 
 talking to Mrs. Bathurst. She introduced 
 him. 
 
 ^' Proud and happy, I am sure, to make 
 the acquaintance of so near a connexion of 
 my inestimable neighbour and friend," said 
 ]\Ir. Johnstone, slewing his whole body round 
 till he faced the new comer, and then gravely 
 bowing, like a polite goose with a stiff neck. 
 
 Mr. Bathurst, with his eye-glass in his eye, 
 bowed in return, and began to wonder whe- 
 ther poor calumniated Falstaffs men in buck- 
 ram were not realities after all, and whether 
 their descendants had not colonized in Acton. 
 
 Covered by the skirmishing of a few com- 
 
WILLIAM BATHUKST. 67 
 
 monplace sentences, the two men took note of 
 each other. Mr. Johnstone came to the im- 
 mediate conclusion that Mr. Bathurst was a 
 gentleman to his hair and finger nails, and 
 also perceived that he himself had made a 
 contrary impression on the other, but hoped 
 by self-assertion to impose upon him yet — a 
 mistake often made by men whose manners 
 have been neglected, who cannot understand 
 that modesty is the highest form of pride, and 
 therefore never vulgar. Whatever the disad- 
 vantages an able man who has raised himself 
 may have been subjected to in early life, he 
 can become as elegant a gentleman as any in 
 Europe if he understands that fact ; if he does 
 not, he may take what pains, frequent what 
 company, and occupy what position he 
 chooses, a snob he will be to the end of his 
 days. 
 
 *^ I understand," said Mr. Bathurst, when 
 enough had passed for preface, '^ that you 
 are about to send your son, a lad of about 
 
 F 2 
 
68 WILLIAM BATHURST. 
 
 my nephew's age, to a school of which you 
 have a very good opinion, and you have 
 kindly offered to give us the benefit of your 
 information." 
 
 " Yes, ye — es," replied Mr. Johnstone, 
 with pompous pause upon the affirmative 
 monosyllable ; ^* but I must warn you that 
 my ideas on the subject of education are pecu- 
 liar — most of ray ideas on the majority of 
 subjects are, I believe, peculiar. I daresay, 
 now, that you do not disapprove of fagging ?" 
 
 *^ On the contrary," replied Mr. Bathurst ; 
 ^' I am an Eton fellow myself, and have there- 
 fore had practical experience of the working 
 of the system. To act in a quasi-servile posi- 
 tion for a short time makes a boy think, 
 teaches him the valuable lesson of the beauty 
 of subordination, and brings home to him the 
 fact that it is only a happy fortune, and the 
 possession by his parents of a certain income, 
 which makes the difierence between himself 
 and his servants ; and he learns how greatly 
 
WILLIAM BATHURST. 69 
 
 they add to his comfort, what self-denial and 
 self-restraint they must constantly exercise, 
 and how much therefore he owes them. I 
 can generally tell a public school man by the 
 way he treats his dependants.'^ 
 
 " Exactly," said Mr. Johnstone. ^' And 
 I daresay you have no objection to flogging." 
 
 '^ Not I !" exclaimed the other ; ^' you must 
 punish a boy somehow when he will not study, 
 and it is downright cruelty to keep him in, 
 stupefying himself over his unlearned lessons, 
 instead of taking the air and exercise which is 
 necessary for his health ; give him a whipping 
 and have done with it, I should say." 
 
 *^ And fighting?" 
 
 <' Why, of course it would be more 
 Christian for boys not to quarrel at all, but 
 if they do, it is far better for them to fight it 
 out and make friends, than to bear malice as 
 men and women do. I am not sure that it 
 would not be conducive to morality to have a 
 permanent twenty-four foot ring established 
 
70 WILLIAM BATHURST. 
 
 in every parish in England, for the fistal ar- 
 rangements of even adult diflferences : such a 
 custom would ruin me, though." 
 
 ''■ If Mrs. Bathurst's views upon the sub- 
 ject of education agree with yours, sir," 
 observed Mr. Johnstone, "I am afraid that 
 lay school will not suit at all." 
 
 " But they do not," cried Mrs. Bathurst, 
 quite energetically for her. '^ I have no 
 doubt, Horace, that your system is a good 
 one for many boys ; but you do not know 
 William. As for what you said about fagging, 
 I do not see the advantages, as I highly dis- 
 approve of familiarity with the lower orders. 
 If I thought the poor dear child was going to 
 be flogged, I should break my heart, I am 
 sure ; and I know he would never get over 
 it — he is so tender, and requires to be lead by 
 kindness, not driven by severity ; and as for 
 fighting, how can you talk so calmly about 
 anything so frightful and wicked ? I once 
 saw a boy who had been fighting, and he had — 
 
WILLIAM BATHURST. 71 
 
 it is quite true, I assure you, and he was not 
 older than William — a — a black eye ! I was 
 never so shocked in my life. I should never 
 have a moment's peace if I thought my child 
 was exposed to such a calamity." 
 
 Breakfast was now ready, and during the 
 pause which accompanied the commencement 
 of the meal, Mr. Horace Bathurst reflected 
 that the sentiments of the mother and the 
 character of the boy made it more than ever 
 desirable that he should be sent to a good 
 school, where his character would be formed 
 upon a model diiFerent from hers ; but he 
 knew the uselessness of reasoning against a 
 mother's feelings, and so, under protest, he 
 yielded. 
 
 Some men would have felt offended at being 
 asked to come, at great personal inconvenience, 
 to give their advice upon a point which the 
 person seeking counsel had previously settled ; 
 but Uncle Horace was so glad to shirk the 
 responsibility which attaches to giving the 
 
72 WILLIAM BATHURST. 
 
 educational bias to a human soul, that he felt 
 rather relieved than otherwise at his recom- 
 mendations being neglected. 
 
 " Well," he said, good-naturedly, ^^ you 
 have settled finally against me what sort of 
 school Billy is not to go to ; the only thing 
 which remains to be decided, as we are all 
 happily agreed that it would never do for him 
 to be brought up at home, is, where he is to 
 go. What is this place you recommend, Mr. 
 Johnstone ?" 
 
 *^ It is called the Honey wood Collegiate 
 Establishment ; and the principal's name is 
 Dr. Beebee. But I much regret that I have no 
 time to give you more minute particulars, as 
 I am positively obliged to proceed to London 
 by this next omnibus, which will be due, I 
 perceive, in five minutes. If, however, you 
 will honour me with your company at dinner, 
 this evening, we will discuss the matter over 
 as good a glass of wine as you will get any- 
 where.'' 
 
WILLIAM BATHURST. 73 
 
 Mr. Johnstone was not exactly the sort of 
 host Uncle Horace would have chosen, so he 
 demurred, and said something about the short 
 time he was with his sister-in-law, and his not 
 wishing to leave her. 
 
 " There is no need," replied Mr. John- 
 stone, *' as I took it for granted that Mrs. 
 Bathurst would come to keep mv wife com- 
 pany, and bring her boy to play with his 
 little friends. Adieu, then, till five. No 
 ceremony." 
 
 And he took his departure, an earlier one 
 than he originally intended ; but Avhen he saw 
 Uncle Horace, he recognised him as a man 
 whom he had seen on several occasions riding 
 or walking in rather aristocratic society, and 
 thought that it might forward his own ulterior 
 views to force himself into a certain intimacy 
 with him ; and so he laid an ambush, and 
 surprised him into coming to dine with 
 him. 
 
 Having time to reflect, and being no longer 
 
74 WILLIAM BATIIURST. 
 
 supported by the self-confident figure of Mr. 
 Johnstone, Mrs. Bathurst felt, in the course 
 of the day, that she had hardly given Uncle 
 Horace's opinions due weight; and after lunch, 
 Avhen Billy was trying his new ship in a large 
 tank there was in the garden, while his elders 
 were sauntering slowly along the meandering 
 path. Uncle Horace giving his companion a 
 lucid and popular account of some revolution 
 with which the Parisians were amusing them- 
 selves just then, she suddenly said, 
 
 '^ Do you think William would have sent 
 him to a public school ?" 
 
 ^'What! Louis Blanc?" 
 
 "No, no, pardon me for being so distrait ; 
 but I can think of nothing else but my boy. 
 I am afraid you must think me very weak for 
 dreading so much the ordeal which all boys 
 have to go through, and for wishing it to be 
 as mild as possible !" 
 
 *^ Not at all, Emily ; I know too well what 
 that ordeal is, not to sympathise with the 
 mother who shrinks at it.'' 
 
WILLIAM BATHURST. 75 
 
 " But YOU have not answered my question. 
 What would his father have done ?" 
 
 *^ Since you ask me, Emily, I must tell the 
 truth. I think, nay, I am sure, that he would 
 have agreed with me." 
 
 " But they are so very godless at public 
 schools, are they not?" said the poor lady, 
 much distressed. " They swear, and use 
 fearful language, and practise all sorts of 
 wickedness. What do I know ? If his poor 
 father had been alive, he would have been 
 able to have advised him, warned him, guided, 
 him ; but I am ignorant of all these things, 
 and my advice, my warning, would be un- 
 practical, and therefore ineffective. It woidd 
 have been different if William had been here, 
 would it not ?" 
 
 " It wou — ou dear me ; a fly in the 
 
 corner of my eye. It would, indeed, have 
 made a very great difference, and I dare say 
 you are right. Only I have an idea that 
 private schools are, in reality, more vicious 
 than public ones." 
 
76 WILLIAM BATHURST. 
 
 ** Oh ! but this one is an exception, it is so 
 beautifully managed, you can't think ! But 
 you will hear this evening." 
 
 *' Granting that," continued Uncle Horace, 
 waving a point upon which he felt extremely 
 sceptical, -^ the boy must go out into the 
 world, and fight his own battle against evil 
 some day. The question is as to the best 
 training for that conflict." 
 
 " He is such a very tender-hearted boy," 
 said Mrs. Bathurst ; ^^ so easily led either 
 'towards good or evil, that you must not 
 judge of him as you would of others. I ex- 
 pect to be able to keep him under my own 
 eye and influence after he has left school." 
 
 " What ! when he is articled to me ?" 
 
 '' Yes." 
 
 " When he is a man grown, and in business 
 for himself?" 
 
 ^^Yes." 
 
 Uncle Horace remained for some time in 
 silent and astounded contemplation of an 
 
WILT-IAM BATHUEST. 77 
 
 apron-string of such length and strength. At 
 last he said : 
 
 " We are mortal, Emily, and going down 
 the hill which he is ascending. '^ 
 
 '' True," she replied. '' But I trust God 
 will spare me to see him married young to a 
 woman of firm character and affectionate dis- 
 position, who '^ 
 
 " Good gracious !" cried Uncle Horace, at 
 this further lengthening and strengthening of 
 the soft but tough bond, which was thus des- 
 tined to enslave the unconscious innocent who 
 was dabbling in the tank before them ; this 
 plagiary of the old French cry, "The apron- 
 string is worn out ; long last the apron- 
 string !" " You have mapped out his life for 
 him pretty accurately, Emily. But suppose 
 we are both taken before your plans are 
 matured, will not the lad be left in rather a 
 defenceless state ?'' 
 
 "Ah ! Horace, we whose minds have under- 
 gone a saving change, have hope and faith ! " 
 
78 WILLIAiM BATHURST. 
 
 *' Well, I do not think that I am quite 
 destitute of those virtues myself, to a rational 
 extent. If I sow a field with beans, I should 
 sleep quite calmly of nights in faith and hope 
 that the Almighty would give me in proper 
 time a good crop. But of beans, not oaks ; 
 for that I must sow acorns. But, however,^' 
 he added, with a smile, " I am an old bache- 
 lor, you know, and cannot be expected to 
 have that confidence in female influence which 
 I should doubtless have experienced had I 
 ever tested it." 
 
 A little before five o'clock they were all 
 three at Griffin Hall, where Mr. Johnstone, 
 who had returned from town earlier than 
 usual, met them at the gate, and fastened 
 upon his guest-victim. 
 
 *' Come here, sir," said he, leading Uncle 
 Horace to a particular corner of the gravel 
 walk, from which he directed his attention to 
 the house. ^' From this point you get a view 
 of the whole range. Magnificent style, sir, is 
 
WILLIAM BATIiURST. 79 
 
 it not? My own idea entirely. What a pity, 
 now, that that architectural idea should have 
 been worked out on a cottage instead of a 
 pile — is it not, six? What a noble pile it 
 would have made ! You see the griffins, the 
 arms of my ancestors ; you may have read of 
 the Johnstones — the family with an e ; they 
 were very famous in the Border warfare; many 
 a time has the rampant griffin carried dismay 
 into town and hamlet. I often think how my 
 forefathers would blush if they knew that their 
 descendant was in any way connected with 
 commerce ; and yet, sir, the position held by 
 the British merchant is a noble and a proud 
 one." 
 
 And so, praising himself and everything 
 connected, or supposed to be connected with 
 him, he led the way to the house, where, in 
 the finest-proportioned and best-furnished 
 room in the world. Uncle Horace was intro- 
 duced to the lady of the house; and then they 
 went in to dinner, and had some fish which a 
 
80 WILLIAM BATHURST. 
 
 marquis had been just too late to secure, some 
 lamb which an earl was pining after, some 
 hock which was only possessed by Prince 
 Metternich and Mr. Johnstone, and other 
 eatables and drinkables, all unobtainable by 
 anybody but that gifted and indefatigable in- 
 dividual who sat at the foot of the table. So 
 that Uncle Horace was much perplexed. 
 
 " Come," he said to himself, " Emily is a 
 lady, and not a fool ; how can she believe in 
 such a vulgar humbug as this ?" 
 
 But he dismissed the question as part of 
 the problem Woman, which he always classed 
 with squaring the circle, perpetual motion, 
 and the transmutation of metals, ^Hhings 
 which no fellow can understand." 
 
 Almost directly after the dessert was put 
 on the table the two ladies left the room, to 
 give plenty of time for the free discussion of 
 the educational question before the house. 
 
 ** Taste that Lafitte," said Mr. Johnstone, 
 pushing a tidy Bordeaux wine, desecrated to 
 
WILLIAM BATHURST. 81 
 
 suit the English palate by a load of Burgundy, 
 across the table. "If you are a judge of 
 claret, I think you will tell me that there is 
 no better wine than that on the Queen's own 
 table." 
 
 " I never dined with her/' said Uncle 
 Horace, drily. 
 
 "Well, now, about this school," pursued 
 Mr. Johnstone. " I must confess to you that 
 my ideas upon the subject of education are 
 peculiar. I do not think much of the old- 
 fashioned system of teaching boys nothing but 
 T^atin and Greek — what is the use of it? Why 
 fix upon two dead languages to be crammed 
 into a boy's memory, when there are so many 
 living ones, which he would find it in after 
 life convenient to know ?" 
 
 " Because those ancient languages, forming 
 the foundations of the modern ones, a boy, in 
 mastering them, acquires an amount of 
 elementary and grammatical knowledge which 
 renders the picking up afterwards of French, 
 
 VOL. I. G 
 
82 WILLIAM BATUURST. 
 
 Italian, or German comparative child's play. 
 Also because the study of a dead language 
 cultivates the reasoning faculties, while learn- 
 ing a modern one merely exercises the me- 
 mory, and sharpens a certain knack of catch- 
 ing idioms." 
 
 When a person with whom Mr. Johnstone 
 was taking a conversational paddle got out 
 of Mr. Johnstone's depth, that gentleman used 
 to smile compassionately, elevate his shoulders 
 and eyebrows, and — hold his tongue ; there- 
 bye leaving it to be inferred that politeness 
 alone deterred him from the utter demolition 
 of his opponent. 
 
 Uncle Horace saw through the transparent 
 manoeuvre, and not caring to throw liis rhe- 
 torical pearls before swine, he tried back. 
 
 ^^ Well, and what do they teach at Honey- 
 wood instead of the Classics ?" said he. 
 
 '^They do not entirely abstain from the 
 pursuit of those old-fashioned studies, but 
 they do not prosecute them to the neglect of 
 
WILLIAM BATHURST. 83 
 
 science. Botany, chemistry, mineralogy, con- 
 chology, elocution, political economy, French, 
 German, Italian, Spanish, music, dancing, 
 mathematics, are a few of the studies which 
 occur to me at the moment as those to which 
 the attention of the pupils is principally di- 
 rected." 
 
 " Good heavens ! And you mean to tell 
 me that they drive all that into a lad without 
 any use of the birch ?" 
 
 *^ Corporal punishment is unknown, as well 
 as envy, hatred, malice, and all uncharitable- 
 ness.'^ 
 
 "It must be monstrous dull !" said Uncle 
 Horace, drily. 
 
 *^ The boys do not seem to find it so," re- 
 plied Mr. Johnstone. ** The school is out 
 Chiswick way ; if you can find time to run 
 down there any day, it is not far, and you 
 Avill be able to judge for yourself. To see 
 them playing at cricket in their large fields, 
 you would not say they were dull." 
 
 G 2 
 
84 WILLIAM BATHUIiST. 
 
 '' Cricket ? Come, it is not so bad, perhaps, 
 after all. No, no more wine, thank you ; I 
 should like to take a turn in your garden, 
 and, if I may be permitted, to smoke a cigar/' 
 
 " Certainly. I do not often smoke myself, 
 but I have some regalias here which came 
 direct from the Havannah, and cost half-a- 
 crown a piece out there ; you cannot get such 
 in England, offer what price you may. Try 
 one." 
 
 During their turn in the garden, Mr. John- 
 stone explained what he knew further of 
 Honey wood and Dr. Beebee, and Uncle 
 Horace saw that the place might have its 
 advantages for a very young boy — for, at all 
 events, they were kindly treated. 
 
 " And yet, Mr. Johnstone," he said, on clos- 
 ing the question for the present by throvving 
 away the stump of his cigar, and preparing to 
 enter the house, *^ you may depend upon one 
 thing, a school which calls itself a ^ Collegiate 
 Establishment/ with a ^ principal,' instead of 
 
WILLIAM BATHURST. 85 
 
 a head master, lias something rotten about it 
 somewhere.'' 
 
 And these words hit Mr. Johnstone, who 
 had been caught by the title simply, rather 
 hard. 
 
 Going home that evening, Mrs. Bathurst 
 eagerly asked her brother-in-law what he 
 thought of the school. 
 
 *^ I think it will do very well, perhaps, while 
 Billy is a little boy, though I don't fancy a 
 lad would get much good there after thirteen. 
 However, I will run over and look at it, or, bet- 
 ter, I will call one day next week, and we will 
 go too^ether and see if our opinions agree with 
 Mr. Johnstone's." 
 
86 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 THE FIRST STEP OUT OF CHILDHOOD TAKEN. 
 
 HoNEYwooD Collegiate Establishment took 
 Mrs. Bathurst's heart at once by storm. Dr. 
 Beebee seemed so utterly incapable of harm- 
 ing any living being, that one wondered what 
 would happen if a flea ever chanced to alight 
 on his excessively clean person ; for to imagine 
 that he would ever have recourse to unkind 
 measures for its removal was quite out of the 
 question. 
 
 Miss Beebee, his sister, who had especial 
 charge of the young ones, was a nice motherly 
 body ; the ush — the ^^ assistant masters," were 
 
WILLIAM BATHURST. 87 
 
 mild, gentlemanly-looking men ; and the boys 
 themselves were clean, neat, brushed, rosy, 
 plump, and happy. Evidently next to stop- 
 ping at home, the best thing which could 
 happen to her William would be to go to such 
 a school as that. But her endeavours to get 
 :i hearty approval of the ^' Collegiate Estab- 
 lishment " out of Uncle Horace were futile. 
 
 " It is better than his remaining at home, 
 certainly," was all the praise he would give, 
 and that the mother did not consider very 
 CDmplimentary. 
 
 *^It may be that you are right" — this was 
 his ultimatum on the subject — "and that I am 
 vrong ; but the fact is, that we go upon 
 entirely distinct principles. I would secure a 
 child against drowning by teaching it to 
 swim, you by never letting it go near the 
 water." 
 
 " And is not my plan the surest ?" 
 
 " If practicable, yes." 
 
 *^ I have no doubt you are right in a general 
 
88 WILLIAM BATHURST. 
 
 way ; but William is not like other boys, he 
 is so, &c." 
 
 When a mother gets on that tack, you may 
 put on your hat and gloves. 
 
 Altogether it was a settled thing that, in 
 the following August, William Bathurst should 
 go to school with Harry Johnstone ; and the 
 two boys looked forward with pleasure to the 
 event, as children always do to any change 
 while it is at a distance ; and poor little Mary- 
 thought how dull she would be ^vhen deprivel 
 at one blow of her brother and small sweet- 
 heart, and left with no companions but her 
 mother and her doll — the former grown up, 
 and the latter speechless. But, as if on pur- 
 pose to meet the exigencies of her position, 
 one evening her papa came home later thai 
 usual, and brought with him an immense 
 quantity of luggage, a little girl of about her 
 own age, and a black woman. And Harry 
 and Mary were informed that the little girl 
 was named Minnie Cook, and that they were 
 
WILLIAM BATHUEST. 89 
 
 to treat her as a sister — which they did, having 
 big hearts, with very little trouble. 
 
 An independent little dame was Miss Minnie, 
 not at all oppressed with shyness ; she had 
 evidently been accustomed to a great deal of 
 waiting upon, and took all the attention paid 
 her as perfectly natural. Her pale face and 
 large eyes made her look very delicate ; and 
 an air of languor, not natural at her age, 
 did not tend to remove the impression. She 
 did not enter very readily into the more 
 active games of her new playmates at first, 
 and looked on with much wonder at the mys- 
 teries of bat and trap, hoop trundling, and 
 the other contrivances of British infancy for 
 impeding degeneracy ; but at doll-nursing 
 and all sedentary amusements she proved a 
 great hand ; and if Harry thought his new 
 sister rather a spooney, Mary was charmed 
 with her to a degree which excited much 
 jealousy in the breast of William Bathurst. 
 
 The black woman was a great mystery, the 
 
90 WILLIAM BATHURST. 
 
 two little Jolinstones having a sort of im- 
 pression, which was not exactly a tangible 
 belief, that all the money which they were 
 perpetually being incited to put into mission- 
 ary boxes was collected for her advantage ; 
 and indeed they were able to understand that 
 the conversion of anyone so very ugly must 
 cost a deal of money. Their prejudices 
 against the good-natured Hindu soon wore 
 out, however ; and when, on the approach of 
 autumn, she sailed for Madras, there being 
 nothing now to take her back to China, they 
 were almost as sorry to part with her as was 
 little Minnie herself. 
 
 The arrival of this little girl brought Uncle 
 Horace once more to Mr. Johnstone's house ; 
 for he had been an old school and college 
 friend of Mr. Cook's, and felt drawn to go 
 and see the motherless child who had been 
 sent to England under such sad circumstances. 
 And this visit gave Mr. Johnstone an idea 
 that he might use his ^* ward," as he called 
 
WILLIAM BATHURST. 91 
 
 her, as a means of advancing himself a little in 
 the social scale, for both Mr. Cook and his late 
 wife had been well-connected people, who had 
 left friends behind them in that class of gentry 
 amongst whom it was Mr. Johnstone's par- 
 ticular desire to be ranked ; and indeed, 
 shortly after Uncle Horace's second visit, one 
 of the upper Acton families, who had hitherto 
 ignored the Johnstones, called upon them, and 
 Mr. Johnstone began to talk about his religious 
 views being a sort of heirloom handed down to 
 him from the seventeenth century, when his 
 family had espoused the Puritan cause ; and to 
 say that he himself was liberal in feeling, and 
 had no enmity to the Church of England; and 
 to treat poor Mr.Pogramwith marked coldness. 
 For, he said to himself, who knows but that, 
 if I attended his church, the rector might call 
 — and the rector's wife's cousin had married 
 a man whose cousin's wife was related to a 
 baronet. 
 
 The early summer passed, and there came a 
 
92 WILLIAM BATIIUKST. 
 
 hot August Monday morning, upon which an 
 open hired carnage, having by the side of 
 the driver a brass-headed, nail-studded trunk 
 and a square deal box, both articles strong- 
 ly corded, and neatly placarded with minute 
 directions as to their ownership and desti- 
 nation, and Mr. Johnstone and his son Harry 
 in the interior, stopped at Mrs. Bathurst's 
 house. Before the bell could be rung, a female 
 servant, who had evidently been crying, and 
 a youth who looked as if lie was anxious to 
 console her, came out, bearing between them 
 another trunk and another box, which were 
 piled up on the first ; and then William Ba- 
 thurst made his appearance — a very crumpled 
 and be-blubbered one — and got into the car- 
 riage. 
 
 "Tell Mrs. Bathurst that I will call this 
 evening and inform her how I left the young 
 gentlemen. To Chiswick," said Mr. John- 
 stone, and the carriage drove away. 
 
 Between the two laths of a Venetian blind, 
 
WILLIAM BATHURST. 93 
 
 Mrs. Bathurst watched it until it was out of 
 sight, and then she knelt down and prayed. 
 
 The carriage rolled on through dusty by- 
 roads for about an hour, and then came to a 
 large mansion, which had been once a palace, 
 and was situated in a very pretty and quiet 
 spot, surrounded by fields and farm-yards and 
 market-gardens, and approached by a shady 
 lane lined on either side by tall elms, whose 
 branches met overhead. Mr. Johnstone, who 
 delighted to hear himself talk, especially when 
 he had auditors whom he could patronise, and 
 a theme which admitted of flowery language, 
 pointed out the home beauties of the landscape 
 to the boys, who paid about as much attention 
 to them as a couple of minnows would to the 
 decoration of an aquarium into which they 
 were turned, with the knowledge that a vora- 
 cious perch was lying hid somewhere behind 
 the rockwork. The leafy avenue was to them 
 like the awful wood in which Dante finds him- 
 self in the opening of the Inferno ; the iron 
 
94 WILLIAM BATHURST. 
 
 gates like those gloomy portals where visitors, 
 who had already left their umhrellas with their 
 Styx behind them, had to deposit their hopes; 
 the bell, which in truth had a very cheerful 
 tone, like that with which it is still the custom 
 to jar the nerves of the dying out of compli- 
 ment to the dead; the light, bright, airy study, 
 into which they were ushered, like the torture- 
 chamber of a dentist. Even the entrance 
 of Dr. Beebee did not set them entirely at 
 their ease, and yet his appearance was suf- 
 ficient, one would have thought, to reassure 
 anybody. He was a tall portly man, with a 
 high shining forehead and a bright restless 
 eye, whose whole face and figure expressed 
 benevolence in letters which beggars and im- 
 postors of all kinds could read a hundred yards 
 ofi*. 
 
 ^* And these are my lit — tie friends? " said 
 Dr. Beebee, after the first exchange of salu- 
 tations with Mr. Johnstone. ^^Good boys I am 
 sure they will be, and anxious to learn a very 
 
WILLIAM BATHURST. 95 
 
 great deal. This is William Bathurst, I think ; 
 well, William, and how is your mamma? Ah! 
 here is Miss Beebee. Dorothea, you remem- 
 ber Mrs. Bathurst, with whom you struck 
 up so sudden a friendship? This is her 
 son." 
 
 Miss Beebee was a homely old lady, who wor- 
 shipped her brother, wore spectacles, and had 
 several other virtuous or innocuous qualities, 
 and only one vicious one, which was that she 
 did not always aspirate the letter h so clearly 
 as her position rendered desirable. 
 
 After a little further conversation, and a 
 '^ slight refection," as, to Mr. Johnstone's de- 
 light. Dr. Beebee termed it, of fruit and wine, 
 the model schoolmaster led the way into the 
 dining-hall, which was not, like most rooms set 
 apart for the meals of a large number of boys, 
 girls, or men, an uncomfortable, unfurnished 
 apartment, but was thickly carpeted and 
 handsomely curtained, and had at one end a 
 large glass case, in which were all sorts of che- 
 
96 WILLIAM BATHURST. 
 
 raical, mechanical, and electrical apparatus. 
 Over the mantelpiece there was fixed an im- 
 mense board, painted into different compart- 
 ments, white "at the top, then red, then blue, 
 and black at the bottom. This board was full 
 of holes, and stuck all over with little pegs, 
 each of which bore a number. 
 
 "This is our character-board, and consti- 
 tutes our system of reward and punishment — 
 good conduct and industry elevate to the 
 ^vhite, evil behaviour and idleness depress to 
 tlie black. Every boy has his peg, which he 
 keeps during the whole period of his stay. 
 See, I take two fresh ones from this drawer. 
 You, Harry Johnstone, are No. 45 — you, 
 William Bathurst, No. 26. I place you both 
 in the exact centre of the board, which is the 
 bottom row of the red, and I hope you will 
 soon soar into the white." 
 
 " And never 'ave the misfortune to get into 
 the black !" added Miss Beebee, shaking her 
 head, as if the very thought of the calamities 
 
WILLIAM BATHUKST. 97 
 
 attending such a position caused her to shud- 
 der. 
 
 The party was next ushered into the school- 
 room, a very large, lofty building, having a 
 platform with an organ at one end, and maps 
 and mechanical drawings delineated on the 
 walls. At last Mr. Johnstone took his depar- 
 ture, and the two new-comers were turned 
 into the human lake, to find their level. 
 
 A very calm, peaceful lake was the Honey- 
 wood, or, rather, a pond in which the carp- 
 like inhabitants sailed quietly round and 
 round, without any trout-like jumps or pikeish 
 rushes ; and though some of them, amongst 
 whom was Harry Johnstone, might at times 
 experience a restless desire to disport them- 
 selves in less stagnant waters, William Bath- 
 urst was perfectly contented and happy. 
 
 I must beg the reader not to be alarmed ; 
 it forms no part of my plan to dwell upon the 
 school life of the man whose career has seemed 
 to me a tit and interesting subject for study 
 
 VOL. I. H 
 
98 WILLIAM BATHURST. 
 
 and delineation. But that career was so sin- 
 gularly and directly the result of his character, 
 that I cannot avoid touching on the various 
 agencies by which that character was formed, 
 and of these the system of education pursued 
 at Honeywood Collegiate Establishment was 
 one of the chief. 
 
 The boys rose at seven, heard prayers at 
 half-past ; dabbled in some sort of study, 
 which was varied every day in the week, till 
 eight ; marched round the schoolroom two 
 and two — ranged according to their height, 
 being sized, not from flanks to centre, but from 
 flank to flank, the biggest pair leading, the 
 smallest bringing up the rear, just like the 
 animals going into Noah's ark — to a march 
 rolling out from the organ, till a quarter past 
 eight ; sat over a delicious breakfast of bread 
 boiled in milk, not chalk and water, but rich 
 milk, from Miss Beebee's own cows, followed 
 by real good tea, not sky-blue, and capital 
 home-made bread and butter, not bread and 
 
WILLIAM BATHURST. 99 
 
 scrape, mind ; the big boys, if they preferred 
 it, having eggs, ham, or bacon, instead of the 
 boiled milk, till a quarter to nine ; went out 
 into the play-ground, or wandered about the 
 fields belonging to Dr. Beebee — some forty 
 acres, all open to the boys — till half-past 
 nine ; lessons or lectures, made as amusing as 
 possible, till eleven ; recreation till twelve ; 
 amusing lecture till a quarter to one ; march- 
 ing to organ for a quarter of an hour, and 
 dinner ; recreation till a quarter past two, 
 and then big lecture in dining-room to whole 
 school, with darkened room, and bangs, and 
 pretty coruscations, and evil smells, and 
 shocks, and other expedients for making 
 science attractive. Then more recreation, 
 and more organ-rolling, and marching, and 
 playing at work, and tea, and music-lessons, 
 with chorus-singing, and dancing, and supper, 
 and bed. 
 
 And then there were half-holidays, not ar- 
 
 H 2 
 
100 WILLIAM BATHURST. 
 
 ranged for particular days, but announced 
 when the weather was fine and tempting for 
 cricket, or a distant ramble, or a water ex- 
 cursion, or when there was a crisp frost, and 
 the ice was in good order, and to lose an hour 
 of skating or sliding was purgatory. And 
 there were botanical and geological expedi- 
 tions, with pic-nic meals. Altogether the 
 steps to Parnassus were thickly strewn with 
 flowers. 
 
 How about the fruits ? Well, I cannot say 
 much for them ; for the meek and timid, a 
 system which made youth so happy a time 
 would have had great advantages, if one 
 could have made sure of their dying at fifteen ; 
 but as a training for the fight of life ! 
 Train a prize-fighter or a sculler upon beer 
 and skittles, and see what comes of tliat! I 
 do not think that the boys retained much of 
 the various knowledge which was brought be- 
 fore their bewildered eyes. At the same time, 
 if a boy had a taste or a talent, it had a great 
 
WILLIAM BATHURST. 101 
 
 chance of being brought ont ; and Dr. Beebee 
 could boast of having provided the world with 
 more than one artist, musician, mineralogist, 
 chemist, and actor, whose talents would very 
 likely have never been developed, had they 
 been brought up on the usual reading, writing, 
 arithmetic, Latin, Greek, and geography sys- 
 tem. But then very few English parents 
 wish their children to seek their fortunes in 
 those romantic and Bohemian paths, so I fear 
 that that consideration would not of itself 
 crowd the Collegiate Establishment- 
 
 And yet Dr. Beebee always had as many 
 boys as he could accommodate ; for many 
 tender parents, who had timid or delicate 
 sons, whom they did not like to send to 
 rougher schools, and whom they yet thought 
 it unwise to keep at home, gladly seized on 
 the escape from their dilemma oiFered them 
 by Honeywood ; and so it happened that the 
 majority of boys were of a very docile nature, 
 with large bumps of veneration, and easy to 
 
102 WILLIAM BATHURST. 
 
 keep in order. Of course, pupils of a differ- 
 ent temperament continually came into the 
 school ; but for them the system did not 
 answer — Dr. Beebee honestly told the parents 
 the truth, and they were soon removed. 
 Harry Johnstone was one of these last ; he 
 never took kindly to the peaceable manners 
 and customs of the place, played tricks, was 
 hasty, wanted to fight on one occasion, and 
 was no favourite with either Dr. Beebee or 
 his sister. William Bathurst, on the other 
 hand, became a model pupil ; he had a good 
 memory, and a rather mechanical turn of 
 mind, which enabled him to take a superficial 
 interest in the lectures on elementary science ; 
 he enjoyed being petted, and made the object 
 of experimental benevolence ; and he had a 
 sweet voice for singing, a good ear for music, 
 and a pretty, pale, girlish face, which looked 
 well coming out of a white surplice ; so he 
 was put into the choir of the doctor's church, 
 where he warbled chants of a Sunday, and 
 
WILLIAM BATHURST. 103 
 
 partook of many fruit and cake festivities, got 
 up for the choristers only. 
 
 What did Mrs. Bathurst say to that ? I do 
 not know whether she was informed of the 
 Popish proceedings in which her boy was 
 made an actor, but if so, he was so well- 
 treated and happy, that she thought little of 
 anything else. Besides which, her faith in 
 Mr. Pogram and anti-ecclesiastical feelings 
 had been much weakened by the defection of 
 Mr. Johnstone. 
 
 About six months after the boys had first 
 gone to school, that gentleman became di- 
 rector of a railway company in which he was 
 a large shareholder; and was thus associated 
 with Lord Rosherville, who had a seat at the 
 same board. Lord Rosherville was a noble- 
 man who was endeavouring to atone for the 
 sins committed against mammon during a 
 youth of profligate extravagance, by an. old age 
 of stock-jobbing and sharpness. His ambi- 
 tion was to recover the sums he had 
 
104 WILLIAM BATHURST. 
 
 squandered, and to leave the family property 
 in the flourishing state in which he, at the age 
 of twenty-one, had received it. In the pur- 
 suit of this Utopian object, he spent his life 
 amongst City men, and hired out his title for 
 allotments of shares to I know not how many 
 companies, of a more or less bond fide 
 character. It was not a bad trade, for, in 
 addition to the shares, all of which were at 
 some period disposable at some price, there 
 were his director's fees, varying from one to 
 five guineas ; and when he sat as chairman he 
 bagged a double douceur, 
 
 Mr. Johnstone found Lord Rosherville 
 charming, and Lord Rosherville found Mr. 
 Johnstone useful ; and thus the two formed 
 quite a friendship, and his lordship ran down 
 to Acton and took a bed at the cit's house 
 one night ; and the cit dined with the lord 
 another night, and met a bishop. The means 
 to remain outside the pale of the Church after 
 that ? The chapel was soon deserted, the 
 
WILLIAM BATHURST. 105 
 
 rector calle(J, and the conversion of the John- 
 stone family was complete ; for the lady had 
 always had rather a distaste for methodism, 
 and fell easily into her husband's wishes. 
 Mr. Poo^ram preached a sermon on the text, 
 "" Rebuke not an elder, but admonish him as 
 a brother !" and a very pathetic discourse it 
 was ; but it was not very effective, and many 
 weaker brethren were staggered by the John- 
 stone apostasy, Mrs. Bathurst amongst them. 
 But however that lady might be guided by 
 her neighboour in religious matters, she felt 
 no inclination to follow his new lead in things 
 educational, for he soon removed Harry from 
 Honeywood Collegiate Establishment, where, 
 indeed, he did not get on at all well, and 
 sent him to Harrow, at which school a nephew 
 of Lord Eosherville was having a certain 
 amount of classics whipped into him, with 
 whom Mr. Johnstone hoped that his son would 
 strike up a romantic friendship ; and though 
 Harry did not do this, he got more good, 
 
106 WILLIAM BATHURST. 
 
 morally and intellectually, at the public school 
 in a month, than he had during the whole of 
 his previous existence. 
 
 Would William Bathurst have been bene- 
 fited by the ordeal to which his early friend 
 and companion was exposed ? I think so ; 
 for though it is true that an extremely timid 
 and weak boy is sometimes cowed and utterly 
 ruined by the rough-and-ready bullying of a 
 public school, such instances are rare ; and 
 you will find in each case that delicacy of 
 body has accompanied the feebleness of cha- 
 racter ; while young Bathurst's health was 
 good, and his frame by no means a weakly 
 one. 
 
 But Dr. Beebee considered him a promising 
 pupil ; and his mother was satisfied, though 
 she was not so much gratified as she ought to 
 have been, when, at the end of the first half- 
 year, she called to fetch her son home for the 
 holidays, and was informed by Miss Beebee, 
 in a personal interview which she had with 
 
WILLIAM BATHURST. 107 
 
 that lady, that " Master Bathurst's 'abbits 
 were very much improved." For, indeed, as 
 she herself had had the sole formation of his 
 previous *' 'abbits," the remark was not exactly 
 complimentary ; and, to tell the truth, she did 
 not think so highly of Miss Beebee after that 
 as she had previously done ; and was rather 
 glad when, at the expiration of a twelve- 
 month, William rose out of the little-boy 
 class, and had nothing to do, educationally, 
 with the Doctor's worthy sister. 
 
 The years stole by. William Bathurst 
 became a spooney, vacillating, youth ; Harry 
 Johnstone a manly, self-reliant, though some- 
 what awkward, hobbledehoy; Mary Johnstone 
 a staid, thoughtful, cheerful, unaffected little 
 housewife, whom her mother, if she were un- 
 well, or wanted to go out anywhere, could 
 trust implicitly with the management of all 
 household affairs ; Minnie Cook, a lively, 
 merry, laughing girl, rather given to quizzing 
 people ; a puzzle to Mr. Johnstone, a favourite 
 
108 WILLIAM BATHURST. 
 
 with his wife, but hohling a position some- 
 where between that of a protracted doll and 
 a premature daughter, with respect to Mary. 
 The children of eight and six were playmates, 
 the girls of fourteen and twelve held a very 
 different relative position ; and it was amusing 
 to watch the motherly ways of the elder to- 
 wards the affectionate and impulsive child, 
 who yielded a readier obedience to her than 
 to the real heads of the house. 
 
 When the boys came home for the holidays, 
 the old playmates used to unite, and Harry 
 came to consider William as a sort of third 
 girl, whom he liked very well in his way, for 
 old acquaintance sake principally, but whom 
 he certainly despised. For his sister he re- 
 tained a protecting affection, and of little 
 Minnie he made a pet — a propensity which 
 was much encouraged by his parents, as also 
 by the little maiden herself, who was very fond 
 of him, and counted the days for his periodical 
 return with great punctuality and eagerness. 
 
WILLIAM BATHURST. 109 
 
 Nor did William show any signs of out- 
 growing his attachment for Mary. On the 
 contrary, his first efforts at poetry were 
 addressed to her ; and he became more 
 and more awkward and ungainly in her 
 presence, with each recurring occasion, 
 as she unwittingly acquired a reserve and 
 primness in the society of her youthful 
 adorer, which occasionally drove him into 
 paroxysms of pastoral despair. And though 
 the peculiar disposition of the youth disposed 
 him to form a romantic attachment for every- 
 thing feminine which he approached, so that 
 he was constantly dropping his heart about at 
 the feet of the young misses who were invited 
 to the dances which Dr. Beebee gave when- 
 ever the school broke up, he always found 
 that fainter impressions faded from his 
 memory when he once more basked in the 
 presence of his first love. 
 
 Great nonsense all this. I grant it ; but 
 is it not true ? My dear Caustic, can you not 
 
110 WILLIAM BATHURST. 
 
 recall the time when you were slightly non- 
 sensical yourself ? Great nonsense it was ; 
 but William Bathurst did not think it such. 
 However, if youthful loves do not suit the 
 reader's taste, we will close the chapter. 
 
Ill 
 
 CHAPTEE V. 
 
 FREDERICK LEESON. 
 
 When William Bathurst was one of the lead- 
 ing boys at Honeywood, a devourer of eggs 
 and meats instead of bread and milk for 
 breakfast, a sitter-up at night long after the 
 little boys had gone to bed, having licence to 
 go beyond the school premises without asking 
 leave, admitted to the doctor's study, and the 
 free run of his library, and honoured with 
 the paternal friendship of that benevolent 
 pedagogue, who would walk round his private 
 flower garden arm-in-arm with his favourite 
 pupil, expounding to him philanthropic plans 
 of an ecclesiastical-socialistic nature, for the 
 
112 WILLIAM BATHL'RST. 
 
 regeneration of mankind, when he had reached 
 the critical age of sixteen — in short, he made 
 the acquaintance of a new friend, who gave 
 him glimpses of phases of life different from 
 any which had hitherto been presented to his 
 contemplation. 
 
 It was on returning to the collegiate es- 
 tablishment, after the summer vacation, and 
 thus commencing what was to be his last year 
 of residence there, that he found a youth of 
 about his own age, whom he had never seen 
 before, which rather surprised him, as it was 
 out of the range of his experience that a new 
 boy should be so old, and unprecedented 
 events were apt to bewilder him. The man- 
 ners and address of the stranger were like- 
 wise impressed with a certain air of ease and 
 self-confidence, startling to a Honeywoodian. 
 He was a well-made and handsome lad, of 
 olive complexion, sparkling dark eyes, and 
 soft curly black hair ; his nose very aquiline 
 for his age, that feature being generally the 
 
WILLIAM BATHURST. 113 
 
 last to assume any distinctive form. His 
 clothes also were of better cut than a boy 
 who has not yet done growing, can, with all 
 his endeavours, generally obtain ; and alto- 
 gether William Bathurst felt rather as if he 
 were the new boy, and the other the old, 
 when he walked straight up and addressed 
 him. 
 
 "Well," said he, "so you have come back 
 at last — there is no other fellow here oM 
 enough to talk to, and as I came yesterday, I 
 have been nearly bored to death. You are 
 Bathurst, I suppose ? Of course ; my name 
 is Leeson — Frederick Leeson. Rum sort of 
 place this — queer old buffer, Beebee ; why the 
 devil does the old humbug make fellows wear 
 these rotten college caps ? They look very 
 caddish without gowns to match." 
 
 William Bathurst was stunned. The col- 
 legiate establishment a rum place ! Dr. Beebee 
 called plain Beebee, and a humbug, and a 
 buffer ! The head-dress of the establishment 
 
 VOL. I. I 
 
114 WILLIAM BATHURST. 
 
 Styled rotten, and denounced as caddish ! The 
 name of falsehood's papa used in a light and 
 irreverent manner! The astounded youth 
 glanced upwards, in expectation of a thunder- 
 bolt, but seeing a clear blue sky without a 
 vestige of a cloud, he began to feel ashamed 
 of the respect in which he had held the 
 Honey woodian institutions, and tried to laugh 
 an approving chuckle. 
 
 ^^You look rather bothered," continued 
 Leeson. '* I suppose you cannot make out 
 how it happens that a fellow like me should 
 be sent to a private school so late. Well, I 
 will tell you how it is. I have no father or 
 mother living, only a guardian. When I was 
 a youngster, I used to get into mischief, and 
 my guardian used to lick me ; but as it did 
 no good, he got tired at last, and sent me to a 
 private school, where they licked me harder. 
 At last they would not keep me any longer 
 there, and so I was sent to Eton, and there 
 they still went on licking me, till last April, 
 
WILLIAM BATHURST. 115 
 
 when they kicked me out, and would have no 
 more to say to me." 
 
 " And what did they send you away for?" 
 " Oh ! several little things, one on the back 
 of another. I fell in love with a tailor's 
 daughter in the town ; and I got lushy, and 
 then I got lushy a second time, and so they 
 bunked me. So says my guardian to me, 
 ' We have been licking you, Fred, ever since 
 you could holloa in reply, and it has had no 
 effect — suppose we try what kindness will 
 do. They say that if you give a bull-dog lots 
 of grub, and show him no rats, he will grow 
 as amiable as a lap-dog; so I am going to send 
 you to a school where they keep the boys in 
 order by moral persuasion, and if the plan 
 answers with you, by Jove ! it 25 a good one.' 
 And so here I am, and if 1 like it, I think I 
 will pull up and be steady a bit ; because to 
 be sent away from two schools, it is rather 
 serious, you know, when one comes to think 
 about it, eh ?" 
 
 I 2 
 
116 WILLIAM BATHURST. 
 
 Serious ! William Bathurst was at a loss to 
 conceive how a fellow-boy could undergo such 
 disgrace and live. His new companion seemed 
 to him to be a monster of depravity, and yet 
 in some sort a creature to be admired, and, if 
 not exactly imitated, at least, not to be al- 
 lowed to perceive that one would act in a dif- 
 ferent way oneself, else he might laugh at one, 
 and consider one *' a muff," as he graphically 
 expressed himself, which would be the great- 
 est possible disgrace to which one could be 
 subjected. 
 
 William Bathurst and Frederick Leeson be- 
 came great friends, as was natural where one 
 liked to be governed and led, and the other 
 to govern and lead ; and as Leeson was on his 
 good behavour, and careful not to say or do 
 anything to offend the prejudices of the doctor, 
 all went on very smoothly, and William 
 Bathurst's education was extended. He 
 learned to be amused by hearing his friend 
 talk deferentially to Dr. Beebee, for the pur- 
 
WILLIAM BATHURST. 117 
 
 pose of drawing him out, and turning him 
 into ridicule afterwards. He learned to take 
 an interest in anecdotes which are not gene- 
 rally related in ladies' society. He learned to 
 hear any amount of profane language without 
 being shocked, and even to indulge in a quiet 
 little oath himself now and then. He learned 
 that a glass of rum and shrub was exceedingly 
 palatable, and very refreshing in the course 
 of an afternoon's walk ; and he gained a gene- 
 ral impression that everything which he had 
 loved, honoured; and revered up to the pre- 
 sent time was all stuff, nonsense, hypocrisy, 
 and balderdash ; and that most of those things 
 which he had been taught to believe were 
 wicked, were manly actions, which no one who 
 had the smallest particle of self-respect would 
 be deemed innocent of on any account. When 
 he returned home at holiday time, and came 
 once more under the influence of his mother 
 and Mary, he recovered his belief in the good, 
 and forgot his new friend's theories — to 
 
118 WILLIAM BATIIURST. 
 
 adopt them again, however, on his return. 
 
 What influence this association of the two 
 youths wouhl have had upon the career and 
 after-life of the weaker-minded one, had they 
 remained long together at that time, it is 
 difficult to say, nor is it certain that that in- 
 fluence would have been entirely deleterious. 
 Leeson himself honestly believed that he was 
 conferring the greatest possible favour on his 
 friend by '^ making a man of him," as he 
 naively expressed it ; and though he certainly 
 inculcated manly vices as well as manly vir- 
 tues, the former perhaps rather in the excess 
 of the latter, still 1 take it that effeminacy 
 and irresolution are themselves vices which 
 often cause the most amiable dispositions to 
 drift into crime ; and of these inherent defects 
 in his character, Bathurst was certainly told 
 plainly enough by his outspoken Mentor, who 
 one day summed up all the lessons he had 
 taught him. 
 
 They were sitting on a gate in a by-lane 
 
WILLIAM BATHURST. 119 
 
 running between two market-gardens ; Leeson 
 with his hat very much on one side, was smok- 
 ing a cigar, a feat Bathurst was endeavouring 
 to imitate, but the paleness of his face, the 
 contraction of the corners of his mouth, and 
 his constant expectoration showed that, for 
 him at least, the operation was by no means a 
 pleasant one. 
 
 " Old Beebee is not a bad sort of fellow, and 
 makes one pretty comfortable ; but it is aw- 
 fully dull here, and I shall not be sorry to get 
 away," observed Leeson. 
 
 ^* Are you going, then ?" asked Bathurst, 
 only too glad to talk, and so get an oppor- 
 tunity for taking his emetical luxury out of 
 his mouth, and allowing it to smoulder away 
 harmlessly between his fingers, just keeping 
 it alight by an occasional puff. 
 
 ^* Yes," replied the other, " at the end of 
 this half we part ; but I am happy to think 
 that my sojourn here has not been entirely in 
 vain. You know what punch means, and 
 
120 WILLIAM BATHURST. 
 
 could even mix a bowl of it yourself. Though 
 unable at present to smoke with pleasure, you 
 are in a fair way towards the acquirement of 
 that accomplishment. You can toss ; and 
 know the difference between * odd man ' and 
 ' odd man out'; you can also play at ^ beggar 
 my neighbour/ and have even mastered the 
 rudiments of the game of cribbage. I should 
 like to teach you billiards, but unluckily there 
 is no table in the neighbourhood. Ey-the- 
 bye, what are you going to do with yourself 
 when you leave this, for I suppose you will 
 not stop at school for ever?" 
 
 '^ Oh, no !" replied Bathurst. '^ I am to 
 leave Honeywood soon, though they will not 
 tell me exactly when, for fear of unsettling 
 me, and then I am to be articled to my Uncle 
 Horace, who is a solicitor." 
 
 ^^ What ! you are going to be a lawyer, 
 and waste the best years of your life in 
 addling your brains with the driest of all dry 
 books ! Don't do it, my dear boy — don't do 
 
WILLIAM BATHURST. 121 
 
 it ! I might as well have left you in your 
 admiration of ^ Childe Harold,' and never 
 have opened your mind to the superiority of 
 ^ Don Juan/ if you are to neglect both for 
 Blackstone. I might as well have allowed 
 you to remain in a state of ignorance as to 
 which was your right hand, and which was 
 your left, instead of initiating you in the 
 noble art of self-defence, if you intend to sit 
 all your days on a high stool, writing a lot of 
 nonsense on parchment, and puzzling your 
 brains to discover how many names you can 
 call the same thing, so as to fill a score of 
 sheets with what an honest man would put in 
 half a dozen lines, just to run up a bill against 
 some poor devil, who is probably half ruinfed 
 already, or else he would not be in your 
 clutches. Oh ! hang the law ! Go into the 
 army, man. That is the only life for a fellow 
 who must do something !" 
 
 There is no doubt but what this talk, and 
 a great deal more to the same efiect, disturbed 
 
122 WILLIAM BATIIURST. 
 
 the mind of William Bathurst vory much, and 
 caused him to become, for the first time, dis- 
 contented with the way in which his future 
 life had been mapped out for him ; while his 
 imagination was charmed with the pictures 
 which his friend drew, with a somewhat ex- 
 travagant touch, of the pleasures of a military 
 career ; and had he remained much longer 
 under the same influence, he might have 
 formed something like a resolution to resist 
 the authority of his mother, and strike out a 
 line for himself. But at the end of the half 
 year Leeson got a commission in a cavalry 
 regiment ; and William Bathurst being at the 
 same time withdrawn from school, and articled 
 to his uncle, soon forgot the independent 
 counsels he had received, and, submitting 
 quietly to home authorities, became once more 
 a good boy. 
 
 It had been arranged, indeed, between the 
 two friends, that Bathurst should go down 
 to the depot, where Leeson was learning 
 
WILLIAM BATHURST. 123 
 
 stable duty, jogging, sword flourishing, prac- 
 tical wit, the art of spending the largest sum 
 of money in the smallest space of time, in the 
 acquisition of the least amount of amusement, 
 and various other crack accomplishments ; but 
 Mrs. Bathurst received the proposition with such 
 horrified opposition, that her son never again 
 reverted to the subject ; and so Frederick 
 Leeson got jolted into a cavalry seat, in- 
 structed in the mysteries of telling off a troop, 
 and packed off to his regiment in India, with- 
 out any further interview with his friend, 
 whom he soon forgot all about. 
 
124 
 
 CHAPTER VL 
 
 THE LIFE OF A STEADY YOUNG MAN. 
 
 *^ Happy the nation which has no history." 
 Is that true ? Should we appreciate peace 
 if we never had war ? Would liberty seem 
 worth much if there had been no struggle to 
 win it ? Happiness is a slippery eel, and the 
 more comforts and luxuries we have, the less 
 do we enjoy existence. When a young man 
 of fortune, who has been kept rather tight, 
 first comes into his property, he mostly settles 
 down to the pursuit of pleasure, and soon 
 finds that the delights which had been so 
 exquisite to read about, are not worth so very 
 
WILLIAM BATHURST. 125 
 
 much after all. Grand entertainments, deli- 
 cate wines, and general soft living soon be- 
 comes a bore, and he finds himself wondering 
 in the morning how he shall ever tide through 
 the day. Suddenly he takes it into his head 
 to make some expedition. He goes off to the 
 ice seas in a yacht, or to North America for 
 the shooting, or to Switzerland to try how 
 near he can go to breaking his neck without 
 actually doing it ; or he belongs to a regi- 
 ment which is ordered away on active ser- 
 vice ; he has to fare coarsely, to sleep hard, 
 to undergo fatigue, and for the first time he 
 finds himself in a real state of enjoyment ; 
 the mere sensation of being alive is ecstasy ; 
 clouds, trees, rocks come out with a beauty 
 which no ballet ever approached ; the rough, 
 out-of-tune singing of Jack or Tom has a 
 music superior to Giuglini's ; the poorest joke 
 seems the finest wit. And his food — what 
 dinner at Greenwich or the club ever had the 
 flavour of the dry biscuit or coarse bread. 
 
126 WILLIAM BATHURST. 
 
 of the bird shot and, may be, cooked by 
 himself, of the hunk of tough salt beef, or, 
 luxury of luxuries, the tin of preserved 
 Irish stew ? What hock, what Clicquot, 
 what Lafitte, could compare with the tea boiled 
 in an iron pot over the bivouac fire at the 
 close of a hard day's work ? What regalia 
 ever had the flavour of the pipe of cavendish 
 smoked while lying round the extemporised 
 hearth after the rough meal ? Of course 
 peace and plenty are blessings ; but we mor- 
 tals are contradictory beings, and our bless- 
 ings become curses when we have too much of 
 them ; and, on the whole, I think I had rather 
 that the country I belonged to had a his- 
 tory. 
 
 Where on earth have I got to ? When I 
 began the chapter, I meant to take the pro- 
 verb for granted, and say that for the few 
 next years William Bathurst had no history, 
 and was therefore happy ; and indeed he was 
 so, for the quiet life he led suited him rery 
 
WILLIAM BATHURST. 127 
 
 Avell. He was articled, as had been proposed, 
 to bis uncle, and resided witb bis motber, 
 going up to town every morning in tbe same 
 omnibus witb Mr. Jobnstone, and returning 
 in like manner in tbe afternoon. And tbis 
 regular life went on day after day, week after 
 week, montb after montb, witb bardly a break. 
 He never slept in town ; be bad no male ac- 
 quaintances of bis own age except Harry 
 Jobnstone, wbo was not often at bome, and 
 two otber articled clerks, wbo voted bim a 
 muff, justly, and suspected tbat be must be a 
 tale-bearer, unjustly, and, tberefore, ratber 
 avoided bim. He bad bis amusements, tbougb; 
 be went to cburcb twice on Sunday, and to a 
 dissenting lecture in tbe evening (tbat was 
 tbe way in wbicb Mrs. Batburst bad compro- 
 mised matters at last) ; and in May be ac- 
 companied bis motber to several rebgious 
 meetings beld at Exeter Hall. He was also 
 great at small tea-parties, for wbicb be was 
 considered a very nice young man, tbougb 
 
128 WILLIAM BATHURST. 
 
 the veto which uas placed by Mrs. Bathurst 
 upon his dancing or playing at cards rather 
 impaired his social usefulness. But that 
 which threw a charm over his monotonous 
 existence, the butter and honey spread over 
 his daily bread, which kept him from pining 
 after more piquant food, was his love for 
 Mary Johnstone, who was growing up into a 
 very charming young woman, very quiet and 
 staid, but without a taint of prudish affecta- 
 tion ; cheerful, sensible, domestic, just the 
 Avife a mother would choose for her son ; and 
 quite pretty enough to make any son of good 
 taste acquiesce with eagerness in the maternal 
 selection. The young people were not exactly 
 engaged, but they held that relation which is 
 expressed by the term of ^^ understanding 
 each other." 
 
 Whenever they met in mixed society, they 
 always came together, they made each other 
 trifling presents on their respective birthdays, 
 they called one another by the Christian name, 
 
WILLIAM BATHURST. 129 
 
 and they now and then quarrelled, and were 
 very miserable until they had made it up. 
 The parents very much approved of all this — 
 Mrs. Bathurst because it kept her son out of 
 mischief, Mrs. Johnstone because she thought 
 the youth would make a respectable, steady 
 husband, not too determined to have his own 
 way, and Mr. Johnstone because he con- 
 sidered the match a fair one in a pecuniary 
 point of view. Harry Johnstone, indeed, 
 thought his sister a great deal too good for 
 his early friend ; but as there was no good to 
 be done by promulgating such an opinion, he 
 wisely held his tongue, though when, in the 
 course of time, he went to Oxford, and 
 brought college friends down to dine, in the 
 vacations, at his father's house, he secretly 
 thought that it would be rather an advantage 
 if one of them would take a fancy to his sister, 
 and cut William Bathurst out. No such 
 event occurred, however, and Harry had to 
 console himself by flirting desperately with 
 
 VOL. I. K 
 
130 WILLIAM BATUURST. 
 
 Minnie Cook, an amusement which had been 
 much encoura<^ed by his parents up to the 
 present time, though Mr. Johnstone's views 
 on the question were undergoing a change. 
 It would have been too great an infringement 
 of poetical rules, if the courses of two true 
 loves had run smooth in the same household. 
 
 Was William Bathurst quite contented? 
 Did he never feel inclined to rebel against the 
 strict government in which his mother held 
 him ? I cannot say so much. It was not 
 without envy that he saw other young men of 
 his own age and position passing in and out 
 of their clubs ; the theatrical placards which 
 met his eye every day on blank walls and 
 scaffoldings often excited a mournful longing 
 in his breast. The click of billiard balls, 
 which fell sometimes on his ear as he passed 
 through a solitary street when the weather 
 was hot and the windows open, struck a re- 
 sponsive chord somewhere in his interior ; 
 when he read of hunting, shooting, fishing 
 
WILLIAM BATHURST. 131 
 
 adventures, he thought it hard that a cruel 
 fate should have thrust him out of all such 
 pleasures. The blood sparkled up in his 
 veins, and produced a titillation in his toes, 
 when he heard the sprightly tones of dance- 
 music ; and though he was very fond of Mary, 
 and looked forward with pleasure to the day 
 when he should marry her, he would have 
 preferred chambers in London, and his own 
 way for five years, to an immediate accom- 
 plishment of his matrimonial wishes. Indeed, 
 I very much fear that his love for Mary 
 Johnstone was considerably strengthened and 
 supported by the hope that, when he was 
 married, he would escape from the control of 
 his mother. Why did he not resist that over- 
 strained authority ? I do not know. He 
 tried it once or twice, but always gave in 
 eventually, and his chains were the more 
 firmly riveted after each unsuccessful revolt. 
 One great support of Mrs. Bathurst's authority 
 was her bad health, for she was suffering from 
 
 k2 
 
132 WILLIAM BATHUKST. 
 
 a heart-complaint, with which she was at times 
 very ill, and any strong excitement was, of 
 course, very bad for her. Now, nothing ex- 
 cited her so much as opposition on the part 
 of her son, and William, who was an amiable 
 young man, was naturally floored by the idea 
 of committing matricide. 
 
 This critical state of her health caused 
 Mrs. Bathurst to view the attachment between 
 her son and Mary Johnstone with peculiar 
 pleasure, and she hoped that they would be 
 married young, in order that William might 
 not be left to his own devices when she her- 
 self was taken. For she was aware that the 
 way in which she had bro]io;ht him up was 
 not calculated to strengthen his naturally weak 
 character, and she looked forward with no un- 
 reasonable alarm to the time when, freed from 
 her influence, he should find himself drifting 
 helplessly amongst the currents of temptation. 
 Mary's character, however, exactly suited her 
 to the task of taking quiet command of him, 
 
WILLIAM BATHURST. 166 
 
 and keeping him straight. Calm, affectionate, 
 sensible, she was just the woman to acquire a 
 strong, though unapparent and unfelt, influ- 
 ence over her husband, even though he were 
 a man of stronger self-will than William 
 Bathurst. 
 
 If that young man were deficient in self- 
 reliance and firmness, he was not wanting in 
 brains ; and he succeeded very well in his 
 professional studies, becoming, indeed, by dint 
 of constant and earnest application, a very 
 good lawyer, so that his uncle felt that, by 
 the time he was legally able, he would be 
 also practically fit to enter into the partner- 
 ship, and take a fair share of the work and 
 responsibility. A fact which was of the more 
 importance, as Mr. Horace Bathurst had for 
 some years been declining in health and men- 
 tal power — and his was not a long-lived family. 
 He had endeavoured, when his nephew had 
 first entered his office, to persuade his mother 
 to allow him to introduce the lad into society, 
 
134 TTILLIAM BATHURST. 
 
 and generally to give him a little more liberty. 
 But as his representations and offers were 
 disregarded, he soon grew tired of offering 
 them, and allowed matters to take their 
 course. 
 
 One warm July evening, Mary Johnstone 
 and Minnie Cook were walking with their 
 arms interlaced, after the manner of young 
 ladies, through the paths of Mr. Johnstone's 
 garden, which, from the growth of the shrubs, 
 w^as more shut out from the road than it used 
 to be. Mary was tall and somewhat slender, 
 but graceful and undulating, with light chest- 
 nut hair, honest steadfast blue eyes, good fair 
 complexion. Minnie was shorter, plumper, 
 quicker in movement, and a brunette. Both 
 would have passed for pretty anywhere, and 
 as they sauntered along, without bonnets and 
 in white muslin dresses, they would have 
 made a very nice photograph, which I much 
 wish had been taken for introduction here, "to 
 face this page," as it would have saved me the 
 
WILLIAM BATHURST. 135 
 
 annoyance of having to attempt the above 
 most inadequate description. 
 
 Mr. Johnstone and his son Harry, who was 
 at home, were finishing a bottle of claret in 
 the dining-room ; Mrs. Johnstone was com- 
 posing herself for a nap in the drawing-room, 
 so that the two girls had been in for a good 
 undisturbed gossip, which, however, must have 
 had reference to somewhat melancholy topics ; 
 for Minnie, who was, as a general rule, the 
 brightest, pertest little gipsy living, looked as 
 ruffled and unhappy as a cat who has been 
 stroked the wrong way, and a tear sparkled 
 on her long black eyelashes. 
 
 ^^No, Polly," she was saying — she always 
 called her friend Polly, and was very savage 
 if any one else did ; " it is all very well for 
 you to say that, but you know that you do not 
 think it ; it is not fancy — your papa's manner 
 has altered very much towards me, and there 
 is something wrong, I am sure. He has not 
 heard from my papa for ever so long." 
 
136 WILLIAM BATHURST. 
 
 '^ That is because there is a war going on, 
 and the post has been stopped. It was 
 understood some time back that we were not 
 to expect to hear." 
 
 ^" But that is no reason why Mr. »Tohnstone 
 should be so unkind." 
 
 " My dearest Minnie, do not think that ; 
 papa is often abrupt in his manner when he is 
 anxious about some business matter — he is just 
 the same to everybody, and you must surely 
 have noticed it before." 
 
 '' Yes, but 1 was never before made to feel 
 that I was an encumbrance, and in his way ; 
 dear Mrs. Johnstone sees it, if you do not, for 
 she has been extra kind to me, to make up. 
 What can he wish to send me to school for, if 
 it is not to get rid of me ? Tu be sent to 
 school at sixteen ! Was there ever such an 
 indignity ?" 
 
 " I cannot imagine why papa thought of 
 that — it must have been in consequence of 
 something Mr. Cook wrote to him when you 
 
WILLIAM BATHURST. 137 
 
 first came to us. I shall be very unhappy if 
 you go away, and I cannot believe papa was 
 in earnest. Still, dear, there is no indignity 
 in it ; girls often go for a year to a finishing 
 school at sixteen — you get more and bet- 
 ter masters than you could get at home, 
 and " 
 
 *^ Here's some one coming,'' interrupted 
 Minnie. 
 
 "Some one" was a well-grown, rather good- 
 looking young fellow of about twenty, with 
 grey eyes, delicate nose, finely-chiselled but 
 too feminine mouth, and receding chin. 
 There was something old-fashioned and sombre 
 about his dress, which made him look unlike 
 other young men of his age and position, and 
 the way in which he wore his hat stuck on 
 the back of his head gave him something of 
 an idiotic air. This was William Bathurst, 
 who was in the habit of walking over after 
 dinner, being indeed entirely dependent on the 
 Johnstone family in general, and Mary in par- 
 
138 WILLIAM BATIIUUST. 
 
 ticiilar, for conversiitioii and compiiriionship. 
 
 William was not such a bore as you would 
 have expected ; he found time to read the 
 papers and lighter literature of the day, and 
 lie talked freely about himself and his plans, 
 wishes, and feelings ; he took an interest in 
 the little events of the place, and made re- 
 marks upon them which were not devoid of 
 shrewdness, and, in short, was a pleasant lively 
 companion enough, whom not only Mary but 
 Minnie was, as a general rule, glad to see, 
 though, on the present occasion, the latter was 
 vexed enough to have her conversation inter- 
 rupted. He had not done much harm, how- 
 ever, for the conference between the two 
 girls would anyhow have been soon inter- 
 rupted by Harry Johnstone, who presently 
 came lounging out through the dining-room 
 window, his thumbs in his waistcoat-pockets, 
 and his brown locks curling crisply over his 
 hatless head. 
 
 "Hollo, William, old fellow, how are you?" 
 
WILLIAM r. AT HURST. 139 
 
 he cried, when he caught sight of Bathurst. 
 ^' Come in and have a glass of wine — no ? 
 Well, how is John Doe ?" 
 
 '^ As well as can be expected, and very an- 
 xious to make your acquaintance. You still 
 intend reading for the bar, when you have 
 taken your degree, do you not ?" 
 
 ^' Yes, I daresay I shall join the Middle 
 Temple, and if I ever am called, I shall ex- 
 pect you to give me lots of briefs. But, I say, 
 you must know an awful amount of law by 
 this, you are such a steady chap, always work- 
 ing at it." 
 
 " Well, I dare say I could make your will 
 for you, if you want it done." 
 
 " Hum ! you mean to insinuate that I have 
 not much to leave, and never shall have, unless 
 I follow your bright example. William, my 
 boy, there are hopes for you yet ; you have 
 chaff in you, and where there is chaff there is 
 wheat ; a straw shows which way the wind 
 blows. Why, Minnie, how solemn you look ; 
 
140 WILLIAM BATHURST. 
 
 in all these years I have never seen you look 
 so grave before. AYhat ! I declare it's been 
 crying ! Pooty iddle ting, den come and tell 
 me all about it." 
 
 And he put her arm through his, and 
 walked her off down another path. And so 
 the two couples were separated, which was 
 not often the case when they met, for they 
 had grown up together so amicably that their 
 love-making was conducted in a very cousinly 
 sort of way. But both pairs came out stronger 
 than usual this evening. 
 
 **Do you know, Mary," said William Bath- 
 iirst, " I shall be out of my articles in two or 
 three months, and then I shall go into the 
 firm as a partner. And soon after that, we had 
 better get married, I suppose — had we not ?" 
 
 " Get married ! AVe !" 
 
 '^ Yes, 1 cannot go on living with my mo- 
 ther as I do at present for ever, can I ?" 
 
 " I do not know ; perhaps it is hardly de- 
 sirable that you should." 
 
WILLIAM BATHURST. 141 
 
 " Well, then, I must have a wife, and so 
 you see you must marry me." 
 
 *' Upon my word," said Mary, with a grave 
 smile, ^'you jump to your conclusion! I 
 have never learned logic, it is true, but it 
 seems to me that even if we grant the neces- 
 sity of your having a wife, it does not follow, 
 as a matter of course, that I am bound to 
 undertake the office." 
 
 ** Oh ! but" you promised years ago, when 
 we were both little children." 
 
 ^^ Dear me ! If we are bound to fulfil such 
 very early engagements, I am afraid that you 
 will find yourself involved in a good deal of 
 difficulty. The black nurse who came over 
 with Minnie could certainly bring an action 
 for breach of promise ; and there are at least 
 four other young ladies running about the 
 world somewhere to whom you have plighted 
 your troth at one or another of those parties 
 which used to be given every half year at 
 Honeywood." 
 
142 WILLIAM BATHURST. 
 
 ^' No ; but seriously, Mary, don't you 
 think I should make a very tidy sort of hus- 
 band ?" 
 
 ^' I really cannot say. I wish you had 
 more firmness of character." 
 
 *' But I have a great deal more than you 
 think, only I have never yet had a chance of 
 showing it.'' 
 
 ^' Well, there is plenty of time yet — you are 
 too young to think about getting married for 
 some years to come." 
 
 That was the talk of the one couple ; the 
 other began with joking, gradually grew 
 serious, and at last came to the topic which 
 had formed the conversation of the girls be- 
 fore they were interrupted. Harry John- 
 stone suddenly stopped short in the middle of 
 the path. 
 
 '^ What!" cried he. " Send you to school 
 now 1 Impossible, absurd ! my father must 
 have been jesting. It shall not be. I will 
 speak to him about it ; and if he is in earnest, 
 
WILLIAM BATIIURST. J 43 
 
 and persists, we will run oiF, and get married 
 in spite of him/' 
 
 " Oh, no, Harry !" sobbed Minnie. '' Do 
 not quarrel with your father on my account ; 
 that would be too dreadful !" 
 
 ** Do not be afraid. I will be quite calm 
 and cool. I know what is due to a parent ; 
 but I also know what is due to myself and to 
 you. I shall be of age presently, and free 
 from his control ; and — and— But I cannot 
 think he was in earnest ; there must be some 
 mistake." 
 
 Mr. Johnstone, who had gone into the 
 drawing-room when his son quitted the dinner- 
 table, stood at the window watching with 
 a gloomy brow the young people, who 
 every now and then were brought by a turn 
 of the path under his gaze. At last, as if he 
 could contain himself no longer, he stamped 
 his foot, and muttered through his teeth — 
 
 " Designing minx ! It was an evil day 
 when she first set her foot in my house !" 
 
144 WILLIAM BATHURST. 
 
 Mrs. Johnstone sat up, and opened her 
 eyes wide with astonishment. 
 
 *^ AAHiat are you talking about, John ?" said 
 she. " Who is a designing minx?" 
 
 " Who ? Why, have you got no eyes, 
 Jane ? That daughter of Cook's, to be sure ! 
 Cannot you see how she is trying to inveigle 
 Harry. Look at her now ! leaning on his 
 arm, and staring up in his face, as if — ugh I 
 ril stop her game !" 
 
 Mrs. Johnstone looked more and more 
 surprised. 
 
 " Why, I thought — " she began. 
 
 ^' Yes ; you thought, and you thought !" 
 interrupted her husband, snappishly ; *^ and 
 I daresay you have encouraged it all, like a 
 blind fool. But I tell you, ma'am, I am not 
 going to let my son marry a beggar girl, who 
 is dependent on me for her daily bread." 
 
 " Come, Johnstone, be reasonable, and 
 don't call me names, for I won't stand it. I 
 am no more blind or a fool than you are ; and 
 
WILLIAM BATHURST. 145 
 
 if I encouraged them, so did you. You always 
 led me to expect that Minnie would be almost 
 an heiress." 
 
 ^^ Well, if I did, it was because I was 
 taken in — swindled/^ returned Mr. John- 
 stone, in a milder tone ; for he felt that it 
 would be a false move to offend his wife, and 
 so very likely drive her into alliance with the 
 lovers, a contingency which might possibly 
 happen anyhow, for the good-natured old dear 
 was hardly endowed with that wise prudence 
 which caused Mr. Johnstone's respect and 
 affection for people to rise and fall with their 
 pecuniary position. Of course both Christ- 
 ianity and morality demanded that the girl 
 who was to be loved and treated as a daugh- 
 ter when rich, should be spurned and neglected 
 when poor ; but Mrs. Johnstone hardly took 
 so virtuous, moral, and religious a view of 
 the question ; and she was so shocked out of 
 her habitual dutifulness to her husband by 
 what seemed to her his mercenary selfishness, 
 
 VOL. I. L 
 
146 WILLIAM BATHURST. 
 
 that there would have been a bit of a storm 
 had she not, on her side, been restrained by 
 a legitimate curiosity to learn what had 
 happened to change her husband's views and 
 Minnie's prospects so completely ; and by the 
 exercise of a good deal of tact she gradually 
 extracted from her husband all he himself 
 knew about the matter. It was a long story, 
 interlarded with a good deal of abuse and 
 speculation ; but this is a summary of it : — 
 
 During the last few years Mr. Johnstone 
 had from time to time received from Canton 
 somewhat strange accounts of the proceedings 
 of Mr. Alexander Cook. Ever since he had 
 lost his wife and parted from his child, that 
 gentleman had been restless, uneasy, eccentric, 
 full of schemes for carrying trade into the 
 distant corners of the earth, which, in truth, 
 is morally as well as actually round, and has 
 no distant corners. Domestic grief often 
 takes the form of enterprise with the Anglo- 
 Saxon ; and many a joy to mankind has had 
 
WILLIAM BATHURST. 147 
 
 its root in the sorrow of the individual. The 
 final and most serious project of Mr. Cook 
 had been the establishment of a large business 
 in Burmah, an idea which had been put into 
 his head by an intelligent Burmese, who had 
 visited Canton, and had formed a close friend- 
 ship with the English merchant, who was at 
 last gained over to all his schemes, and ac- 
 tually set to work to acquire the Burmese 
 language, with the intention of permanently 
 settling in that country. This at least was 
 the deduction drawn from his proceedings by 
 the Canton colony, for he was exceedingly 
 taciturn about his intentions, strict secrecy 
 being, it was urged by his friend Shwai-ee, 
 absolutely necessary to success. At last Mr. 
 Cook wound up his afikirs, and left China, 
 and Mr. Johnstone received his next remit- 
 tance for Minnie through the hands of his 
 Calcutta agent. He also received a letter 
 from Mr. Cook himself, recommending his 
 child to his continued care, expressing his 
 
 l2 
 
148 WILLIAM BATHURST. 
 
 hope of retiring finally to England in a few 
 years, when the business he had in hand was 
 satisfactorily established, and hinting that 
 probably he would not return in the position 
 of a pauper. He also so far let in light upon 
 his plans as to state that he was established as 
 a merchant at Amerapoorah. This was satis- 
 factory, promising — promising enough, but 
 not, alas ! performing ; for the remittances, 
 which had come so regularly for all these 
 years, now stopped ; nor did Mr. Cook, as 
 was at first expected, make his appearance 
 instead. What had become of him ? Mr. 
 Johnstone's Calcutta agent did not know, he 
 had heard nothing of Mr. Cook for a long 
 time, and had no means of gaining any 
 tidings from Amerapoorah, because we hap- 
 pened just then to be engaged in a Burmese 
 war. It was to be feared that Mr. Cook's 
 nationality had been discovered, and that 
 some misfortune had happened to him. But 
 what had become of his fortune ? — Surely he 
 
WILLIAM BATHURST. 119 
 
 had not sunk everything he possessed in the 
 centre of a barbarous country. He must have 
 a banker, a partner, or an agent at Calcutta. 
 Mr. Johnstone's correspondent had made 
 every inquiry, without being able to come to 
 the rights of this matter. Mr. Cook had con- 
 ducted all his proceedings with such secrecy 
 that it was impossible to say what he had 
 done. He had been in a very strange and 
 excited state ever since he had lost his wife, 
 and it was to be feared that any rash conduct 
 in the matter of employing his capital was 
 possible, especially as he had entered into the 
 scheme, whatever it might be, which he had 
 in hand, with very great zeal and ardour. 
 
 It took months for these questions to be 
 asked and answered, and in the meantime Mr. 
 Johnstone was placed in rather an awkward 
 position, which did not improve as each re- 
 curring mail came in without bringing any 
 tidings of Minnie's father, and the chances of 
 his turning up at the head of a small fleet of 
 
1 50 WILLIAM BATHURST. 
 
 vessels laden with gold and silver became 
 smaller and smaller. 
 
 And so, at last, the distasteful truth came 
 home to Mr. Johnstone, that he had received 
 this child into his family, had brought her up, 
 had, by many a profession of Christian be- 
 nevolence, pledged himself to the world for 
 her future support, and, worst of all, had en- 
 couraged the attachment which he had seen 
 growing up between her and his son, all on 
 the supposition that she was the daughter of a 
 rich man, wlio now turned out to be a ruined, 
 and probably a dead, speculator. It might 
 have been a consolation to him that so far, at 
 least, he was not out of pocket — rather the 
 contrary ; for the money which for years had 
 been regularly paid to him had more than 
 covered all the expenses of her keep and 
 education; and when he called her a beggar 
 and a pauper, he exaggerated, for her father 
 had, from time to time, sent her presents, 
 which had been put aside to provide her with 
 
WILLIAM BATHURST. 151 
 
 pocket-money, and these now amounted to a 
 nice little sum ; but Mr. Johnstone was not 
 affected by these considerations, he had made 
 up his mind that Minnie should marry his son, 
 receive a handsome dowry on the occasion, 
 and invest the money in his business, and he 
 esteemed himself defrauded of the exact 
 sum which he had thus too sanguinely 
 calculated upon ; and there was no balm for 
 his wounded feelings in the reflection that he 
 had the character of a Christian philanthropist 
 and affectionate, disinterested guardian to 
 keep up before the world. 
 
152 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 A DIFFERENCE OF OPINION. 
 
 When Harry Johnstone came calmly to con- 
 sider what was to be said and done next, he 
 found himself in a fix. Should he go to his 
 father and tax him with his intention of send- 
 ing Minnie Cook to school at once, or should 
 he wait a bit, and see whether he referred to 
 the subject again ? The latter seemed to be 
 the most desirable course, seeing that Mr. 
 Johnstone might simply state that he had no 
 such intention as his son imagined ; or that 
 he was acting in accordance with Mr. Cook's 
 instructions ; or that he merely suggested a 
 plan which he thought a good one, without 
 
WILLIAM BATHURST. 153 
 
 any wish to force it upon Minnie, if it were 
 distasteful to her ; or that he, Harry, had 
 better mind his own business. Any such 
 paternal reply or remark would leave him 
 silent, out-flanked, and looking foolish. But 
 then, on the other hand, Minnie was in a 
 state of distress and uncertainty, and he had 
 undertaken the office of her champion and 
 defender. The alleged alteration of Mr. 
 Johnstone's manner towards the girl of late 
 might exist only in her fancy, or, at all 
 events, mean nothing, for the religionist and 
 philanthropist out of doors was rather a queer- 
 tempered fellow under his own roof ; but still 
 Minnie held a different opinion, and Harry 
 felt bound to set her mind at rest one way or 
 the other. And then he was about to visit a 
 friend who had some grouse-shooting in 
 Scotland in prospect in a few days, and had 
 no time to wait for a further disclosure of the 
 feelings and intentions of his father, so that 
 he was forced into immediate action of some 
 
154 WILLIAM BATHURST. 
 
 sort, and the principal difficulty left was how 
 to obtain an interview. They generally had 
 some friend or other to dinner, who pre- 
 vented the father and son being alone when 
 the ladies left the room, as they had been on 
 the previous evening ; and Mr. Johnstone left 
 the house directly after breakfast, and did 
 not return till it was time to dress. It would 
 never do to speak upon the subject before the 
 whole family, and yet how was he to catch 
 his father alone without a formal application 
 for a private interview ? A formidable course 
 to take, which would add greatly to the 
 awkwardness of the whole affair, and yet there 
 seemed to be no other alternative. 
 
 Mr. Johnstone, however, kindly relieved 
 his son of all his doubts and difficulties of this 
 kind by intimating, after breakfast on the fol- 
 lowing morning, that he wished to see him 
 alone in a little room, which, for some un- 
 known reason, was called the study, to which 
 apartment he solemnly led the way, closed the 
 
WILLIAM BATHURST. 155 
 
 door, placed his watch upon the table, and 
 seated himself in a large leathern arm-chair, 
 motioning Harry to take up his position in a 
 similar dentist parlour-looking piece of furni- 
 ture standing opposite. 
 
 ^' I have delayed my journey to town this 
 morning, Harry," he began, " because I vvish 
 to speak to you upon a very important sub- 
 ject. Brought up together as you have been, 
 it is very natural that you should be on terms 
 of considerable intimacy Avith Miss Cook — 
 that, in fact, you should regard her almost as 
 a sister, and treat her with a familiarity which, 
 in the case of any other young lady, would be 
 considered by the world as significant of a 
 warmer attachment. But I wish to draw 
 your consideration to the fact that attentions, 
 which were harmless enough when you were 
 both children, are now fraught with consider- 
 able danger to the peace of mind of the young 
 lady who is the object of them. It is true 
 that she is still quite a girl — indeed, her 
 
156 WILLIAM BATHURST. 
 
 education is not yet completed, for as it will 
 be needful for her to gain her own livelihood, 
 it is necessary that she should acquire a more 
 thorough knowledge of feminine accomplish- 
 ments than those need attain who are never 
 likely to be called upon in their turn to im- 
 part them ; but girls are more precocious than 
 men, and she is not too young to form an 
 attachment to a young man like yourself, who 
 is constantly by her side talking and trifling. 
 I hope, then, you will consider that what is 
 an idle amusement for you, may be a serious 
 injury to her. Be careful — that is all I have 
 to say." 
 
 And Mr. Johnstone looked at his watch, 
 and made a movement as if about to rise, 
 which was arrested by his son. 
 
 *^ I beg your pardon, father," said the lat- 
 ter. ^^ There is some mistake here, which had 
 better be cleared up at once. I cannot express 
 how much you surprise me by your remarks, 
 for I always considered that you particularly 
 
WILLIAM BATHURST. 157 
 
 desired that I should one day marry Minnie, 
 and that you were aware of the readiness with 
 which I was prepared to meet your views upon 
 the subject. As, however, you seem to have 
 doubts upon the latter question, you will be 
 glad to learn that there is no fear of my 
 trifling with the affections of the orphan who 
 has been entrusted to your care, seeing that 
 any love which she may have for me is re- 
 turned equally, and it is the dearest wish of 
 my heart to call her my wife." 
 
 " Your wife ! Stuff and nonsense, boy ! — 
 the girl has not a penny to bless herself with! 
 It is true that I did not at one time look for- 
 ward with disfavour to the possibility of some 
 such connexion as that Avhich you allude to ; 
 but that was when there was a prospect of 
 your interests being forwarded by the alliance. 
 Now, I regret to say, Mr. Cook is ruined 
 — dead most likely. He sank his whole 
 fortune in some savage part of Burraah, and 
 has not been heard of since this war broke out. 
 
158 WILLIAM BATHURST^ 
 
 Common honesty should have led him to make 
 some provision for his child before he embarked 
 in so wild a scheme. But no ; he has disap- 
 peared, leaving the girl dependent upon me 
 for the food she eats and the clothes on her 
 back. I hope you see the impossibility of 
 marrying a charity-girl, the daughter of a 
 swindling fellow like that I" 
 
 '^ Well, no, sir, I cannot say that I do. It 
 seems to me, on the contrary, that she more 
 than ever needs a protector, now that her 
 father is ruined, and, too probably, dead ; and 
 I do not '' 
 
 *^ Heaven grant me patience ! " cried Mr. 
 Johnstone, with a gesture which showed that 
 he really needed the blessing he craved. 
 ^^ What was the use of giving you an expen- 
 sive education at Harrow and Oxford if you 
 have not learnt to despise such sickly senti- 
 mentality as this! Do you not know that 
 marriage is an important thing, and a man of 
 sense will not incur the responsibility unless 
 
WILLIAM BATHURST. 159 
 
 he can forward his interests by the step ? 
 You might have found that out by this time, 
 with all the advantages you have had. A 
 little wildness and dissipation I was prepared 
 for, but that a young fellow who has mixed 
 with gay men of the world should want to 
 bring the morbid dreams of a poet off the 
 stage and into real life, I own, surprises 
 me." 
 
 Harry felt himself getting angry ; his eyes 
 sparkled and his face grew white, with the 
 exception of two red spots on his cheek-bones. 
 Remembering whom he was addressing, how- 
 ever, he forced himself to speak calmly and 
 deliberately. 
 
 ^^It is very true, sir, that the education 
 you have given me, and for which I am most 
 grateful, was not calculated to make me a 
 hero of romance ; and perhaps some of my 
 friends and companions have held female 
 virtue and domestic happiness rather cheap ; 
 but, at all events, they were men of honour, 
 
160 WILLIAM BATHURST. 
 
 and I do not think one of them would advise 
 me to repudiate an engagement formed with 
 a young lady under my father's care, in his 
 house, and with his connivance, under the 
 impression that she was rich, because of mis- 
 fortunes which had befallen the parent from 
 whom the money was expected. I believe 
 that the most worldly of them would say that 
 I was in bad luck and had made a mess of it, 
 but that I must keep my pledge." 
 
 '^ Pledge ! — engagement !" cried Mr. John- 
 stone, angered out of his propriety, and hissing 
 out an expletive which need not be recorded. 
 **An engagement between a boy at college 
 and a schoolgirl ! I never thought you were 
 such a fool !" 
 
 " Schoolgirl ! It is true, then, that you 
 are gcing to send her out of your house ?'' 
 
 ^^ Yes, in spite of the return she has made 
 me for all my kindness by endeavouring to 
 entrap my only son, I intend to complete my 
 task, and incur the expense necessary for 
 
WILLIAM BATHURST. 161 
 
 enabling her to get her own living as a go- 
 verness. And after what you have said this 
 morning, I shall take good care that she goes 
 off soon, and has no opportunity of practising 
 her arts under my roof again/' 
 
 ^^ She never practised arts, sir, and you 
 know it ; and your conduct to the unprotected 
 girl who — God forgive me, I was nearly tell- 
 ing the truth to my father !" and with these 
 words Harry abruptly left the room. 
 
 Mr. Johnstone waited until he was quite 
 calm and smooth, and then marched forth in 
 his usual stately manner, and took his seat in 
 an unwonted omnibus, which passed an hour 
 later than the one he generally went by — a 
 delay which excited much surprise and com- 
 ment amongst the Acton conductors, who 
 were quite aggrieved by the irregularity. 
 
 About half an hour after he had gone, 
 Harry lounged into a summer-house, where 
 his sister and Minnie were seated, working, 
 
 VOL. I. M 
 
162 WILLIAM BATHLRST. 
 
 sketching, or reading, after their custom on 
 tine mornings in warm weatlier. 
 
 '*I say, Mary, old girl," said he, ^'just 
 look my mother up and keep her company 
 for five minutes, will you ? I want to speak 
 to Minnie alone a bit. You don't mind, do 
 you ? Perhaps I shall not see her again for 
 ever so long. And tell mother I want a chat 
 with her, too, presently. Well, Minnie," he 
 added, when they were alone, ''it is all true ; 
 they are going to send you to school." 
 
 " I knew it !" she cried. ^' And you have 
 had a quarrel with your father !" 
 
 " Well," he replied, *' there has been a bit 
 of a row. But the fact was, he went too far, 
 for he said that we were not to be married. 
 Don't cry, little 'un, it's all right. I have 
 made up my mind what to do. Do you go to 
 school, and do all they want quietly ; and in 
 another month I shall be of age, and then I will 
 come and run off with you. I mean to give 
 up the idea of taking my degree. I will 
 
WILLIAM BATHURST. 163 
 
 leave Oxford, and get my living as a clerk, 
 or a secretary, or something of that sort. I 
 have no debts, luckily, and am something in 
 hand — besides which, there is some money 
 owing to me, and my caution money, and the 
 furniture of my rooms, and my horse. Oh ! 
 we shall have enough to start with." 
 
 " And I have nearly two thousand pounds," 
 cried Minnie. 
 
 *^ The dickens you have ! Why, my father 
 said — well, never mind. We must live in 
 an attic. You won't mind that ?" 
 
 '' Oh, no !" 
 
 " And cook the dinner ?" 
 
 " What fun ! I can roast chestnuts beauti- 
 fully." 
 
 '^ And light the fire?" 
 
 " I can do that, if somebody will lay it 
 properly." 
 
 And so they chatted for I don't know how 
 long, more than the five minutes first asked 
 for, certainly ; and then Harry went to his 
 
 M 2 
 
164 WILLIAM BATHLRST. 
 
 mother, and had a long conference with her. 
 She tried to persuade her son to temporize ; 
 to remain at the university, and let things go 
 on as they were for the present. But Harry 
 was a very energetic youth when he had once 
 come to a determination, and was settled in 
 his purpose of immediate action. 
 
 If he delayed getting some appointment 
 which would bring him at least bread and 
 cheese at once, he urged, his father might ac- 
 cept a situation as governess for Minnie be- 
 fore he was in a position to rescue her from 
 such a fate. It was quite true that he was 
 hurting his future prospects by the step he 
 proposed taking, but he could not help that. 
 His first duty was to the girl to whom he had, 
 with his parents' consent, plighted his troth ; 
 and if his father chose to change his mind, it 
 only made his own responsibility the greater. 
 Still, if Mr. Johnstone chose to guarantee 
 him a small income, he would relinquish his 
 plan, and go to the bar as he originally in- 
 
WILLIAM BATHURST. 165 
 
 tended. But he knew very well that his 
 father would make no compromise of the kind, 
 and so it was useless to take such a contin- 
 gency into consideration. 
 
 Poor Mrs. Johnstone was in a sad fix ; 
 she could not blame her son, and yet she 
 did not like to encourage him in a course 
 which was likely to be injurious to his in- 
 terests. And so her appeals were urgent, but 
 somewhat contradictory, as she wanted him 
 not to break with his father, and yet not to 
 give up Minnie. Finally, she promised all 
 the help she could give, both mediatorially 
 and pecuniarily, to the lovers ; and it made 
 Harry much happier to have the countenance 
 of, at all events, one parent, and that the one 
 he loved best and respected most. 
 
 Mary, he, of course, found an ardent, 
 though a prudent ally. The sorrow she felt 
 at the idea of parting from Minnie, ensured 
 plenty of indignation against her father ; and 
 though she did not like the notion of her bro- 
 
166 WILLIAM BATHURST. 
 
 ther — in her eyes the pink of aristos — coming 
 down to the level of a clerk, she yet owned 
 the necessity of his preventing Minnie being 
 sent out as a governess, a position for which 
 she was, of all living young ladies, the least 
 fitted. They were all four puzzled by the 
 animus shown by Mr. Johnstone against the 
 poor girl ; not knowing the hate felt by the 
 man at the head of a shaky business towards 
 anyone connected with the disappointment of 
 money, upon which he had reckoned for its 
 support. 
 
167 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 AN OLD FRIEND. 
 
 It was four o'clock in the afternoon, and thou- 
 sands of clerks were wiping or sucking their 
 pens, closing ledgers, locking safes, brushing 
 hats, changing coats, and passing generally 
 from the state of grub to that of butterfly, 
 while their minds, turning from the dull rou- 
 tine of the desk, reverted gladly to their wives, 
 their dinners, or whatever objects stood out 
 most prominently as the representative de- 
 lights of home. 
 
 A large herd of elephantine omnibusses was 
 congregated about the Mansion House, into 
 and over which the human tide kept pouring, 
 
168 WILLIAM BATHURST. 
 
 •with a child-like faith in the probability of the 
 vehicles moving on in time, though the horses, 
 thrice happy animals, who lived before the 
 invention of knife-boards, seemed utterly 
 unable to move farther than a yard at a time. 
 Yet the sober four-wheeler managed to find a 
 way through the crowd, while the light and 
 jaunty hansom darted in and out like a sword- 
 fish disporting himself amongst a shoal of 
 whales. Nor were elegant broughams, drawn 
 by showy highsteppers, wanting, mostly be- 
 longing to members of the Stock Exchange 
 these, men who, being rich to-day, may be 
 paupers to-morrow, and who, therefore, wisely 
 consider that every pound spent on their 
 personal comfort, pleasure, or amusement, is 
 so much secured against the caprice of for- 
 tune. Crowds of people, also, whose pockets 
 were light or limbs cramped, preferred tra- 
 velling homewards on their own legs, and the 
 pavements were jammed up with pedestrians. 
 Amongst these latter was William Bathurst, 
 
WILLIAM BATHURST. 169 
 
 who always walked to the White Horse Cellar, 
 ill Piccadilly, and took his omnibus from 
 thence. On this particular afternoon he felt 
 less inclined to go quietly home than usual, 
 and walked along in a reverie, the leading 
 idea running through which was, what an 
 ill-used and unfortunate individual he was. 
 Other young men could go about as they 
 liked, dine where they chose, see a little of 
 life. He envied everybody around him — the 
 stock-brokers in their broughams, the young 
 men who were articled with himself, and who 
 were going to Vauxhall that evening ; even 
 the copying-clerks in his uncle's office, who, if 
 they had small salaries, could at least spend 
 them as they liked. Nay, he even doubted 
 whether he were not worse off than a little 
 dirty boy who begged a penny from him, for 
 he at least had plenty of liberty, if not of food, 
 and though he might often have to sleep under 
 Waterloo Bridge, he could select what dry 
 arch he chose. 
 
170 WILLIAM BATHURST. 
 
 These feelings increased in strength with 
 every step he took westward. He entered the 
 Strand, and saw a noisy party of students 
 issuing from King's College. " Happy dogs !'* 
 murmured he. He passed a house which pur- 
 ported to be The Cigar Divan, and his heart 
 beat quick with curiosity and desire. A divan ! 
 He imagined an apartment fitted up with 
 oriental splendour, a fountain in the middle, 
 luxurious couches all round, turbaned servants 
 bearing hookahs, sweetmeats, cofiee, and sher- 
 bets to the customers, probably a performance 
 of dancing-girls every quarter of an hour. He 
 had half an hour to spare, and felt wonder- 
 fully inclined to go in, but did not like. Per- 
 haps they would not admit him in boots, for 
 fear of his spoiling the cushions. He passed 
 the theatres, and his longings found vent in a 
 sigh ; the idea of their doors being sealed to 
 him was too painful, and he hurried on past 
 Trafalgar Square, along Pall Mall, up St. 
 James's Street. Could those voung men on 
 
WILLIAM BATHURST. 171 
 
 the steps of the clubs— could that particular 
 swell Avho had just mounted his horse, and 
 was progressing like a crab, sideways, up the 
 street — belong to the same species as himself ? 
 Were they demigods, or was he himself an 
 ape, or what was it ? He was aroused from 
 these contemplations by a smart slap on the 
 back, and, turning sharply round, found him- 
 self standing face to face with a tall, broad, 
 erect young man, of dazzling aspect. He had 
 dark curly hair, and merry eyes, and an aqui- 
 line nose, and a black silky moustache. From 
 the glossy hat, balanced, and just a trifle 
 cocked on his head, to his light gloves and 
 shiny boots, he was every inch a swell, rather 
 over-dressed, perhaps, in the matters of 
 jewelry and colour, but carrying that off by 
 his handsome face, good figure, and air of 
 intense self-complacency. 
 
 ^* Well, Bathurst, my boy, how are you ?" 
 cried this gorgeous apparition. 
 
 "Leeson!'' 
 
172 WILLIAM BATHURST. 
 
 " Come, you do know me ? I was afraid I 
 had been scorched and be-niggered out of 
 all remembrance in that confounded India. 
 I am glad to have met you, old fellow. I 
 have been knocking about here for the last 
 month, though, and have never seen you any- 
 where. Are you about town ?" 
 
 "Yes. No. That is " 
 
 " I see. Come into the club and have a 
 glass of sherry." 
 
 " I should be very happy, but the fact 
 is " 
 
 " That's all right, come along.'' 
 
 " But I have to meet the omnibus." 
 
 " Oh ! hang the omnibus ; you can get an 
 omnibus any day, and you have not seen me 
 for I don't know how many years." 
 
 And taking him by the arm, Leeson drew 
 Bathurst into the Epicurean, and had him 
 seated at a small table before a pint of sherry 
 ere he well knew where he was. 
 
 "Well," said Leeson, pouring out the wine. 
 
WILLIAM BATHURST. ] 73 
 
 " and what are you doing with yourself ? 
 Have you taken to the law as you in- 
 tended?" 
 
 ^^Tes, I am articled to my uncle the solici- 
 tor, but I shall pass my examination, and be- 
 gin practising on my own account soon ?" 
 
 ** That is right, you are a wise man, and I 
 gave you bad advice, I remember once, when 
 I urged you to go into the army. I wish I 
 was a lawyer, or a banker, or something which 
 got paid decently. Hang soldiering, it does 
 not give a fellow bread and cheese ! How do 
 you like this sherry ? — will you have some 
 bitters with it ?" 
 
 Bitters were a sealed bottle to Bathurst, 
 who thought the sherry very nice, and did not 
 see any advantage in mixing it with an un- 
 known element, which, from the name, would 
 probably spoil it. But his friend took no 
 notice of his refusal. 
 
 "Do," he urged, "it will give you an appe- 
 tite for your dinner. You will dine with me 
 
174 WILLIAM BATHURST. 
 
 here, of course. Waiter, bring some bitters ; 
 and look here, secure me a table in the 
 stranger's room ; this gentleman will dine 
 with me. Let us see the bill of fare." 
 
 ^^ But stop !" cried bewildered Bathurst. 
 *' My dear fellow, you are very kind, and I 
 am much obliged, I am sure, but " 
 
 " Nonsense ! obliged indeed ! Til dine with 
 you to-morrow, if you are so nasty particular, 
 and then we shall be square." 
 
 " I do not mean that ; on the contrary, it 
 would give me the greatest pleasure to be 
 your guest, only I have to go home. I am 
 living with my mother at Acton, and, as it is, 
 I fear that I have missed my usual omnibus 
 and must go by the next." 
 
 ** Ah ! that is right ; I like a dutiful son. 
 If there is one thing that I admire more than 
 another, it is filial affection ; though I must 
 say it is carrying the matter rather too far to 
 live with one's mother altogether. It must 
 be very slow at times, eh ? Anyhow, you 
 
WILLIAM BATflURST. 175 
 
 dine with your mother every day, and only 
 have a chance of seeing me once in a hundred 
 years, so I am sure Mrs. Bathurst would not 
 be so unreasonable as to object to having a 
 solitary feed for once." 
 
 '^ But she will be waiting dinner for me, 
 and will think some accident has happened. 
 She is so easily alarmed." 
 
 ^* Ah ! to be sure, ladies are such lidgety 
 creatures. That is why I never mean to 
 marry until I find a woman whose nerves have 
 been extracted. Unless, indeed, I light upon 
 an heiress who can be mesmerized. Good 
 idea that ! I'd send her to sleep, and go out 
 and spend her money, and wake her up again 
 when I went home. But about your mother — 
 the matter is easily settled. Write her a 
 note to say that you are going to dine in 
 town, and send it by the omnibus. Come, 
 finish your sherry, and go to the writing-table. 
 When you have done your letter, we will take 
 it ourselves to the omnibus." 
 
176 WILLIAM BATHURST. 
 
 William Bathurst was in a most uncomfort- 
 able frame of mind. It was a dreadful thing 
 to oflfend his mother ; and it was just as bad 
 to repulse the advances of this superb soldier 
 who honoured him with his friendship. And, 
 then, how could he own that he was such a 
 nincompoop as not to dare to dine in town 
 without the maternal permission? That he 
 felt he could not do. But what other excuse 
 could he make? — Business ? — an engagement ? 
 He should have thought of that before — it 
 was too late now. Besides, a good dinner in 
 such company was not without its peculiar 
 temptations. Finally, he wrote the desired 
 note, and Leeson having by that time settled 
 the important questions of soup, fish, wine, 
 &c., they left the club and strolled quietly up 
 Piccadilly to the White Horse Cellar, where 
 Bathurst discovered an Acton omnibus, and 
 gave his letter and a shilling to the con- 
 ductor, with earnest injunctions not to forget 
 to leave it at his mother's house. This busi^ 
 
WILLIAM BATHURST. 177 
 
 ness despatched, he drew a long breath ; the 
 deed was done, the gauntlet thrown down, 
 and instead of feeling awed and conscience- 
 stricken, he experienced a sensation of freedom 
 and relief. 
 
 *^ Now, then," said Leeson, " how shall we 
 amuse ourselves till dinner? What do you 
 say to a game of billiards ?" 
 
 " I should like it very much ; but the fact 
 is, I — I cannot play," replied Bathurst, ready 
 to sink into the ground with shame at the 
 confession, but feeling that it was utterly 
 useless to attempt to conceal his ignorance and 
 deficiency from such a superior being. 
 
 ^' Oh ! come, do not be modest," said 
 Leeson. ^' When a man says he cannot play, 
 I have always found that he is a dangerous 
 customer. However, you know, if I beat 
 you, I can give you points." 
 
 ■** But I assure you that I never played a 
 game at billiards in my life — I doubt if I ever 
 even saw a billiard-table." 
 
 VOL. I. N 
 
178 WILLIAM BATIIURST. 
 
 Leeson came to a stand-still, and stared 
 with astonishment at his companion. 
 
 " Never played a game at billiards ! Why, 
 how in the name of all that's boring do you 
 get through the day ? I tell you what, just 
 for old time's sake I'll teach you. It seems 
 to be my mission to complete your education. 
 Don't you remember my showing you how 
 to play at cards, and breaking you in to 
 smoking ?" 
 
 ^' Indeed, I do ; and I have never done 
 either one or the other since." 
 
 Leeson, after one or two convulsive efforts 
 to restrain himself, regularly exploded with 
 laughter. 
 
 '^ Excuse me, my dear fellow," he said, 
 when he had recovered himself ; " but I could 
 not help it. I have met a good many green- 
 horns during the last year or two, but hang 
 me if I ever imagined, much less saw, anyone 
 so green as you. The law must be an uncom- 
 monly interesting and absorbing study." 
 
WILLIAM BATHUFvST. 179 
 
 '^ It does require a good deul of attention," 
 replied Bathurst, considerably abashed, but 
 determined to make a clean breast of it once 
 and for all. '^ And then I live alone with my 
 mother, and am quite out of the way of all 
 amusements." 
 
 '' Poor beggar !" said Leeson, with true 
 compassion in his voice ; and led the way into 
 Eegent Street, where a billiard-room was soon 
 found, and William Bathurst had his first lesson. 
 
 He was not a dull scholar, and learned to 
 make a good bridge, to balance his cue 
 properly, and to stand in correct position 
 before his ball when he made a stroke. He 
 was also initiated in the mysteries of side, 
 the meaning of the terms cannon, losing, 
 winning, red and white hazards, and their 
 numerical value ; and, before he left the room, 
 acquired the art of generally hitting the ball 
 he aimed at. Not bad progress in an hour ; 
 and his instructor declared that he was a 
 spoilt Roberts. 
 
 n2 
 
ISO WILLIAM BATHURST. 
 
 Tlien they returned to the club and had 
 dinner, decidedly the most delicate and appe- 
 tizing repast that Bathurst had ever sat down 
 to ; while, as to the wine, that was indeed 
 nectar ! They had Madeira, the first he had 
 ever tasted, with their soup ; champagne, re- 
 freshingly iced ; afterwards a glass or two of 
 port with their cheese ; and then a claret, for 
 which the Epicurean was famous. When he 
 had drunk about three times as much as he 
 ever had, at one sitting, before, and still had 
 the pleasing spectacle of a fresh jug on the 
 table, Bathurst began to lose his awe of his 
 host, and felt sufficiently self-confident, easy, 
 and familiar to question him as to his own 
 adventures, position, and prospects, a subject 
 which had not as yet been even distantly 
 alluded to. 
 
 " Why, the fact is,'' said Leeson, helping 
 himself to claret, " I have come rather to 
 grief." 
 
 '^ Dear me !" murmured Bathurst, who was 
 
WILLIAM BATHURST. 181 
 
 badly up in slang, pulling a long and sympa- 
 thetic face, but thinking that grief did not sit 
 heavily on his friend either. 
 
 " Yes,'^ continued the other, after taking 
 a mouthful of wine, and leaning back in his 
 chair to catch the full flavour as he swallowed 
 it. " You know I joined the hussars in 
 India ; well, there was a cornet who went out 
 with me whom I did not like, a green fellow, 
 just as you might be, only he was not good- 
 natured and teachable, like you, but a surly, 
 sulky brute. I might have known, if I had 
 had my after-experience, that he was hopeless, 
 and never could come to any good, because he 
 would not take his liquor ; for if a fellow will 
 not be sociable after he has had his dinner, 
 you may be quite certain he won't at any 
 other time. But I did not know this then, 
 and I tried to make something of him, and 
 got vexed at his stubbornness, and bullied 
 him rather. For I considered that he must 
 have some use in the world — even a mosquito. 
 
182 WILLIAM BATIIURST. 
 
 you know, is created for some purpose — and 
 as he was evidently not intended by nature as 
 a companion, it was probable that he was 
 meant to be a butt. You may think that the 
 voyage made me cantankerous — it does some 
 people. But, to show that I was not singular 
 in my aversion to the fellow, we had not 
 joined a month before every officer in the 
 regiment felt the same. Well, you may 
 imagine what a nuisance a sulky snob is in a 
 regiment, and how desirable it is to get him 
 out of it. We tried our best, and his life 
 could not have been a very happy one, poor 
 beggar ! At last I went too far, I own, for I 
 got his sword, and had the blade taken out of 
 the hilt, and a peacock's feather stuck in the 
 place ; and when he went to draw his sword 
 on parade, right in front of the regiment, out 
 came the feather. Well, there was an awful 
 row, and I offered to fight the beggar, but he 
 would not have that, and insisted on reporting 
 the matter, and in the end I had to exchange 
 
WILLIAM BATIIIRST. 183 
 
 into the Lancers to avoid worse. By Jove, 
 that was the regiment for fun ! A capital 
 fellow, too, was the colonel, and overlooked a 
 thousand scrapes I got into ; but at last I 
 took two months' French leave of absence, 
 after he had refused it me, and that was too 
 much even for him." 
 
 ^^ What on earth induced you to do that?" 
 
 ^^ Well, it was a foolish business — a love 
 affair. I had to run off with a lady whom T 
 did not care very much for, and who did not 
 care very much for me." 
 
 " Then you are married ?" 
 
 " Oh no, it is not so bad as that ; her hus- 
 band is living, and a Catholic, so he cannot 
 get a divorce." 
 
 ^^ Her husband !" 
 
 ^^ Ya — as. Yery wrong, I own. However, I 
 am glad I did not kill him." 
 
 ^^ Kill him?" 
 
 " Yes. It is not the custom for English- 
 men to fight duels now-a-days ; but this chap 
 
184 WILLIAM BATHURST. 
 
 was an Irishman, and wanted to fight, and so 
 I accommodated him. It is not usual to aim 
 at a man when you have run away with his 
 wife, so I fired in the air at first ; but Avhen 
 the fellow had had two fair shots at me, I 
 thought the matter was getting past a joke, 
 so the third shot I potted him." 
 
 " Potted him !'^ cried Bathurst, in some 
 horror, as there rose before his mental vision, 
 a deceived and slaughtered husband, stored 
 up with pepper and spices in an ornamental 
 jar, with a picture of ^ Peace,' or ^ War,' or a 
 portrait of the Queen outside, and sold as an 
 excellent substitute for butter at breakfast. 
 *^ But I thought you said you had not killed 
 him !" 
 
 " Oh ! no, it did not hurt him much. I 
 dropped him with a shot in the hip-joint, and 
 he had to keep his bed a short time, and is a 
 trifle lame, I hear. I got the worst of it, for I 
 had to sell — and here I am, spending the money 
 I got for my commission." 
 
WILLIAM BATHURST. 185 
 
 *^Then you are no longer in the army?" 
 
 " Not I. Have you got a clerk's place va- 
 cant for me in your office ?" 
 
 "But, seriously, what do you intend to 
 do?" 
 
 *^ Why, I have been thinking of going into 
 a West India regiment, only I like cavalry 
 work so much better, so I have applied for a 
 commission in the Austrian service, and if no- 
 thing comes of that I can easily fall back on 
 the other. However, I am pretty flush just 
 now, and it is always time enough to go hunt- 
 ing for the yellow fever when one is hard up. 
 But talking is dry work ; let us finish the 
 bottle and go into the smoking-room." 
 
 So they finished the bottle, and did go into 
 the smoking-room, Avhere they had coffee and 
 small glasses of brandy, and Bathurst, by his 
 judicious friend's advice, smoked a small and 
 mild queen's very slowly, and, under its benign 
 influence, he conceived a bright idea. 
 
 *^I say," he cried, somewhat thickly, as 
 
186 WILLIAM BATHURST. 
 
 well as suddenly, '^ let's go to the theatre." 
 "All right, if you wish it," replied Leeson 
 — " only is not a hot theatre rather a 
 bore ?" 
 
 " Don't know — never was inside one." 
 " Never inside a theatre ! Exactly, nothing 
 can surprise me after the billiards. Go on. 
 Is there anything else you have never done 
 which the society around you is habitually 
 given to ; have you never been drunk, for ex- 
 ample?" 
 
 *^Ne — never !" 
 
 " This is positively refreshing ! Well, let 
 us go to a theatre by all means, I would not 
 miss the honour of introducing you on any 
 account. I do not often go into any place of 
 public amusement in morning dress, but never 
 mind ; we can get a private box cheap so late 
 as this. What is a good theatre to go to? 
 Just hand me the evening paper. Haymarket, 
 — an old comedy, will be half over by now ; 
 Princesses, Shakespeare — you have dined too 
 
WILLIAM BATIIURST. 187 
 
 well to listen to that ; Adelphi, a blood and 
 thunder melodrama for the last piece — that's 
 your sort ; we shall be just in time, too, to 
 see the beginning of it." 
 
 When Bathurst got into the open air he 
 was rather giddy and confused, and was 
 puzzled, on finding himself in a cab, to make 
 out how he got there. Before this question 
 was fairly solved, he had to get out again and 
 stand collecting his wits in a passage, while his 
 companion held a conversation with a nose, 
 an eye, and the brim of a hat on the other 
 side of a pigeon-hole. Then he was advanced 
 into a corridor, where he came to the con- 
 clusion that he was intended to take a bath ; 
 the number and arrangement of little doors so 
 resembled that of a tepid swimming establish- 
 ment he was in the habit of patronising, and 
 so firm was this impression, that when the 
 attendant opened one of the portals he held 
 out his hand for the accustomed towels. In- 
 stead of these, however, he received a sheet of 
 
188 WILLIAM BATHURST. 
 
 thin paper, covered with large black type, 
 which came off on his fingers ; and the apart- 
 ment he was ushered into, though rather like 
 a bath-room in size and general appearance, 
 differed from it in being quite dry, in having 
 four chairs in it, and in possessing a window 
 which looked out on a gay and brilliantly 
 illuminated hall. Drawing the curtains of 
 this frameless unglazed window, and leaning 
 his arms on the sill, Bathurst gazed about. 
 Human faces formed the floor and lined the 
 walls, tier above tier, to the very roof. When 
 he looked to his left, he saw hardly anything 
 in fact but faces, and heads, and necks, and 
 shoulders, which encroached even upon the 
 ceiling, of which there seemed to be a very 
 small portion visible, compared with the size 
 of the building, and that was profusely painted 
 and decorated, and from it depended a large 
 and brilliant chandelier. On turning to his 
 right, however, he found that the seats and 
 galleries terminated abruptly on either side 
 
WILLIAM BATHURST. 189 
 
 of a lofty broad and gilded arch, which 
 formed the frame of a gigantic picture. In 
 front of this painting was a boarded floor, 
 which was fringed by a row of gas-lights with 
 shades, so arranged behind them as to throw 
 all the light upon the lower part of the pic- 
 ture, and in a long compartment beneath this 
 row of lights a band of musicians was playing 
 lively dance music. 
 
 " Where do they act ? — on that strip of 
 boarding in front of the picture ?" asked the 
 novice. 
 
 " You will see presently," said Leeson, 
 laughing. ** This is glorious ! I would not 
 have missed it for anything ! You are a mine 
 of amusement, old fellow. Now, then, look 
 out." 
 
 A bell rang ; the picture, to Bathurst's as- 
 tonishment, rolled mysteriously up, and re- 
 vealed the interior of a cottage and a girl 
 spinning, with whom the young man fell im- 
 mediately in love. 
 
1^0 WILLIAM BATIIURST. 
 
 *' What a magnificent complexion !" ex- 
 claimed he. 
 
 " Hush ! hush ! silence !" cried the pit, and 
 he drew back abashed. 
 
 But he soon recovered, and took great in- 
 terest in, though he felt jealous of the sailor 
 lover, and he venerated the heavy father, and 
 burned to denounce the villain, and was get- 
 ting thoroughly saturated with the interest of 
 the piece, when, to his astonishment and 
 alarm, the walls of the cottage fell all to bits. 
 He recovered, however, when he found that 
 no one was hurt, and that the debris, disap- 
 pearing as by magic, revealed a forest glade. 
 
 It would be tedious to trace his horror at 
 the five murders ; his hatred of the seductive 
 villain, his sympathy for the heroine and her 
 father, his joy and satisfaction when virtue 
 was rewarded and vice punished, and the dead 
 reactive blank which fell upon his soul when 
 a black curtain descended. Why cannot we 
 get a few dozen of Lethe, and spend our lives 
 
WILLIAM BATHURST. 191 
 
 in going perpetually to the theatre for the 
 first time ? 
 
 *^ Well," said Leeson, as they walked along 
 the Strand, drawing in long refreshing breaths 
 of fresh air, and stretching their cramped 
 limbs, " how do you like it I" 
 
 ^^ Like it !" replied the other, " the most 
 interesting novel I ever read, is nothing to it ! 
 But, good heavens ! I quite forgot ! The last 
 omnibus has gone long ago — and how am I to 
 get home ?" 
 
 ^^ I suppose you could take a cab ; but 
 what do you want to go home for ? You had 
 better get a bed in town, or, if you like, I can 
 give you a shake down on my sofa." 
 
 The idea of rousing up his mother's quiet 
 household in the middle of the night was so 
 alarming, that Bathurst caught at the latter 
 proposal at once. 
 
 '^ All right," said Leeson. "We'll make a 
 night of it." 
 
 And so they did, though it would not 
 
192 WILLIAM BATHURST. 
 
 be either amusing or instructive to describe 
 the process. Suffice it that William Bathurst 
 had a good feed of the fruit of the Tree of 
 Knowledge of Evil before five in the morning, 
 the hour at which he finally sank into tipsy 
 slumber. 
 
 When Mrs. Bathurst received the note from 
 her son, announcing his intention of dining in 
 town with an old schoolfellow whom he had 
 unexpectedly met, she was paralysed with 
 astonishment and horror ; and when she had 
 somewhat recovered herself, went over to Mr. 
 Johnstone, who treated the matter as very 
 trivial and natural, and somewhat soothed 
 her. Upon which, she returned home, and 
 had her dinner brought up, but could not eat 
 it for indignation and alarm ; passions which 
 increased in strength as omnibus after omni- 
 bus came in without bringing the truant. 
 When the last had arrived, and he was still 
 absent, she at first determined to order a fly, 
 and go and look for him ; but reflection upon 
 
WILLIAM BATHURST. 193 
 
 the size of the metropolis dissuaded her from 
 this course. So she sat up all night with a 
 ponderous volume of sermons before her, of 
 which she read very little. 
 
 VOL. I. 
 
194 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 WILLIAM BATHURST SNAPS THE APRON-STRING. 
 
 When William Bathurst awoke at past ten 
 o'clock on the following day, be thought he 
 was bewitched. He found himself lying on a 
 sofa in a sitting-room, partially undressed, 
 and covered with a railway-rug and a great- 
 coat, by way of bed-clothes. The furniture 
 of the apartment, and the pictures on the 
 walls were unknown to him, and so also was a 
 very dingy old woman, who was sweeping the 
 floor. His head ached in a way which threw 
 all former experiences of that bewildering 
 affliction into the shade. His throat was dry, 
 and parched with thirst ; his tongue felt like 
 
\VILLIAM BATHURST. 195 
 
 a little bit of hard, dry, acidulated leather, 
 and all his joints seemed to be dislocated. By 
 degrees, however, his scattered wits began to 
 collect together in his throbbing brain, and 
 the events of the previous day and night, from 
 his first meeting with Leeson to his coming 
 home with that erratic friend, and making up 
 his present extemporised couch, came back to 
 his memory, though not with the same degree 
 of distinctness ; for while he could have de- 
 posed clearly enough in a court of justice to 
 all that had occurred up to the period of tlieir 
 leaving the theatre, his recollection of where 
 they had been, and what they had done after- 
 wards, was very misty and confused ; and any 
 account he could have given of the same he 
 felt that it would be unpleasant to have to 
 swear to. 
 
 The one great and important consideration 
 of the moment, however, was that he now, 
 for the first time in his life, knew what the 
 
 o2 
 
196 WILLIAM BATHURST. 
 
 meaning of the word thirst was ; and the tor- 
 ment was so p^reat as to overcome the exces- 
 sive lassitude, which made it a greater labour 
 to turn the body or move a limb than it would 
 have been on ordinary occasions to carry a 
 sack of corn up a ladder, and to cause him to 
 roll off his couch the moment the old woman 
 left the room, and make his way to a door 
 which opened into his friend's bed-room. 
 Leeson, who had just awoke, was sitting up 
 in bed, yawning and stretching ; but Avhen 
 he saw the other's face, he burst out laugh- 
 ing. 
 
 *' Hullo, old fellow!" cried he; ^^ what is 
 the matter? Five minutes ago, the ugliest 
 and most miserable face I had ever seen was 
 that of a Hindoo who was going to be hanged, 
 and who turned white with funk ; but — by 
 Jove ! — you could give him points, and beat 
 him easy. One would say, to look at you, that 
 you had been screwed last night. What are 
 you doing ? Let the water jug alone, man ; 
 
WILLIAM BATHURST. 197 
 
 for goodness sake, don't go wasting a good 
 thirst like that ! One moment, and I'll give 
 you something like a drink !'' 
 
 And taking him back into the sitting-room, 
 he got a couple of bottles of soda-water and 
 one of brandy out of a cupboard, and pro- 
 ceeded to prepare the conventional remedy 
 for over-night excess. 
 
 "There," said he, as the other eagerly 
 swallowed the refreshing draught, " that is 
 what we call ^ peg ' in India." 
 
 "Peg! — why do you call it peg?" asked 
 Batliurst, who felt much better when he had 
 finished the tumbler. 
 
 " Because every glass you take of it is 
 supposed to be a peg in your coffin," replied 
 Leeson. " But now you had better go down 
 into the street, turn to your left, and keep on 
 till you come to some baths on the other side 
 of the way ; have one, and give your clothes 
 out to be brushed while you are in it ; then 
 go to the barber's close by, have your hair 
 
198 WILLIAM BATHURST. 
 
 well brushed, and get shaved, and by that 
 time I will have breakfast ready." 
 
 ^^ Breakfast ! — ugh I — I could not touch a 
 bit." 
 
 " Nonsense, you will be all right when you 
 have done what I tell you. Can I lend you 
 a clean shirt ?" 
 
 Bathurst declined this offer, but bought a 
 collar on his way to comply with his friend's 
 injunctions, which he did implicitly, and cer- 
 tainly felt more like himself afterwards than 
 he had ever expected to do again. And then 
 he returned and drank a great many cups of 
 tea, and, to his own astonishment, eventually 
 ate a bloater, and a slice of broiled ham and an 
 egg ; after all which, it occurred to him that 
 there was some important business to be at- 
 tended to at the office ; and as his Mentor did 
 not dissuade him from going there, but, on the 
 contrary, affirmed himself to be the last man 
 to countenance any neglect of professional 
 duty, they parted for the present, Leesou 
 
WILLIAM BATHURST. 199 
 
 stating his intention of calling for the other 
 at two o'clock, to give him another lesson in 
 billiards, a plan which he had not the slightest 
 notion was in any way inconsistent with that 
 great respect for bnsiness habits with which 
 he had just declared himself to be imbued. 
 
 Bathurst was not ashamed of himself — quite 
 the contrary ; he thought that he had now, 
 for the first time, asserted his manhood and 
 his freedom, and he entered the office with a 
 swagger, which, together with the late hour of 
 his arrival, perplexed the two other articled 
 clerks. They were more astonished when 
 their somewhat mistrusted companion began 
 to talk to them of the pleasures of the 
 metropolis, to ask where they had been, and 
 to announce that he himself had slept in town 
 the night before, and had ^' kept it up rather." 
 For Bathurst felt that to-day he was the 
 equal, if not the superior, of his fellow-clerks, 
 and no longer regarded them with a timid 
 envy ; and his bearing and language reflected 
 
200 WILLIAM BATHURST. 
 
 his feelings. His triumph, and the bewilder- 
 ment of the young men, who had always re- 
 garded him as the very softest of existing 
 " muffs," culminated when an imposing mili- 
 tary swell strode into the dingy chambers, 
 and crying, ^' I say, Bathurst, surely you 
 have had enough of those confounded musty 
 parchments for to-day. Come and have a 
 game at billiards," marched him off. 
 
 1st Clerk. '' Well, of all the dark horses !" 
 
 2n(/ Clerk, ^^Well, of all the dashed hypo- 
 crites !" 
 
 1^^^ Clerk. '^ Why, what an actor the fellow 
 would make !" 
 
 2nd Clerk. " But what could have induced 
 him to humbug us all these years? — and 
 why has he thrown off the mask so sud- 
 denly r 
 
 Ist Clerk. ^^ Oh ! he was afraid that his 
 Uncle Horace would not let him into the 
 partnership so soon if he knew how he was 
 carrying on, and would not trust even us. 
 
WILLIAM BATHURST. 201 
 
 Now he thinks the matter is safe and 
 settled.'' 
 
 2nd Clerk. " I say, old Bathurst will not 
 be here to-day, now — suppose we follow a good 
 example ?" 
 
 1st Clerk. "All right. If young Bathurst 
 and his swell friend had been decently civil, 
 we might have had a four pool." [Exeunt.'] 
 
 " Well, and how do you feel now ?" asked 
 Leeson, directly he was alone with his friend 
 and pupil. 
 
 "Better," replied Bathurst. "But I am 
 rather queer still." 
 
 " Ah ! I know what you want, a basin of 
 mulligatawny and a glass of sherry. I should 
 be none the worse for some such refreshment 
 myself." 
 
 So they took that stimulating luncheon, 
 and afterwards Bathurst received his second 
 lesson in billiards, and got on far enough to 
 play a game, after a fashion, Leeson giving 
 him nearly all in points, and telling him, at 
 
202 WILLIAM BATHURST. 
 
 every stroke, what to play for, and how to 
 play for it. And then, at his usual hour, the 
 truant walked off to his omnibus, and went 
 home to Acton, fully determined not to sink 
 again into the slavery from wliich his newly- 
 found friend had emancipated him. His reso- 
 lutions waned, however, as he neared his 
 mother's house, and had Mrs. Bathurst been 
 pathetic or ill she might easily have brought 
 him in a penitential state to her feet ; but, 
 unfortunately, she took the high and indig- 
 nant line, the very one which the youth, big 
 with the importance he felt at being treated 
 by so great a person, as he esteemed Leeson, 
 as a friend and an equal, found it most easy 
 to resist. Thus, when the servant who opened 
 the door for him exclaimed, ^'Lawk! Master 
 William, where have you been ? Missis is in 
 such a taking, she has not been to bed all 
 night !" his heart smote him, and, as he 
 entered the room where his mother sat, he 
 was meditating a soothing and apologetic 
 
WILLIAM BATHURST. 203 
 
 speech, which was scattered to the four winds 
 by the first glimpse he caught of her. She 
 was perched upon her chair in her stiffest and 
 most uncomfortable attitude, with her strongest 
 Calvinistic expression acidulating her brow 
 and mouth, and the first words with which 
 she greeted him were, 
 
 ^^ Well, William, what do you mean by this 
 conduct ?" 
 
 And so he was actually driven into self- 
 defence — just as the reader, if suddenly and 
 violently attacked by some renowned prize- 
 fighter, might engage in a combat which, if 
 fairly warned and challenged, he would have 
 been at some considerable pains to avoid. 
 
 *' What conduct, mamma ?" he replied, 
 affecting surprise. *' Did you not get my 
 letter?" 
 
 ^* Of course I did; and unutterably shocked 
 and surprised I was on receiving it. How 
 dare you stop in London without my leave ?" 
 
 *' Upon my word, mamma, you are too 
 
204 ^VILLIAM BATIIURST. 
 
 bad ! Just because I am a good son, and 
 generally try to please you, you treat me as a 
 child/' 
 
 " Enough !" 
 
 '^ But I won't stand it any longer. The 
 idea of making such a fuss because T stopped 
 in town one night to dine with an old friend, 
 who had just returned from India !" 
 
 " Enough, I say ! Jane is coming, and I 
 will not have my servants hear your awful 
 language." 
 
 When Jane came in, she announced that 
 dinner was ready, and mother and son went 
 into the next room and ate the uncomfortable 
 meal in surly silence. What a contrast for 
 William Bathurst to the dinner of yesterday ! 
 He was glad to get away, and walk over to 
 the Johnstones ; but Mary was distressed 
 about the rupture between her brother and 
 father, and the sudden alteration of the posi- 
 tion which the latter wished Minnie to hold in 
 the family, so that she was not in her usual 
 
WILLIAM BATHURST. 205 
 
 spirits, and lie had a dull evening of it, and 
 more than ever regretted that he could not 
 be with his companion of the night before. 
 
 Mrs. Bathurst hoped and trusted that her 
 son would see the error of his ways and humbly 
 ^^ come round," and ask pardon when he re- 
 turned home that evening, or, at all events, 
 before he left for town on the following morn- 
 ing. But he remained impenitent, and when 
 they met in the breakfast-room, and he went 
 up, according to custom, to kiss her, she drew 
 herself up and averted her head, which har- 
 dened the rebel yet more. And so he went 
 off on the omnibus with his heart full of a 
 feeling not unlike enmity to the mother who 
 cared for no other object on earth but him, 
 and who spent the entire day in .weeping 
 and praying over him, and repaired to his 
 office ; but, finding work rather dull and dis- 
 tasteful in his present mood, soon left and 
 made his way to Leeson's lodgings. The ex- 
 dragoon was in, not having long finished 
 
206 WILLIAM BATHURST. 
 
 breakfast in fact, and hailed his appearance 
 with pleasure. 
 
 "Well, my unsophisticated friend," said he, 
 '* my buttercup, whose freshness neither law 
 dust nor city smoke has been able to taint, 
 what do you purpose doing to-day ?" 
 
 "Why, I thought if it did not bore you too 
 much, I should like to have another lesson in 
 billiards." 
 
 " Bore me ? Not at all. I have set my 
 heart upon drawing out that innate talent you 
 possess for making winning hazards, and then 
 we will agitate the pools of the metropolis 
 together considerably. We will go and have 
 a game presently. But what shall we do 
 afterwards? It is a warm day ; suppose 
 we go ^own the river and dine at Green- 
 wich T' 
 
 " It would be very good fun," replied Bath- 
 urst ; " but I had sooner let my mother 
 know in the morning when I intend to dine 
 out; and, besides, it is a bother to get back all 
 
TVILLIAM BATHURST. 207 
 
 the way to Acton at night, the last omnibus 
 leaves so early." 
 
 *^ Then sleep in town. Why don't you get 
 a bed-room somewhere and join a club ? You 
 would be ever so much freer." 
 
 " I think I must do something of the kind 
 when I am a partner in the business and have 
 an income of my own ; but to tell the truth, 
 my mother keeps me rather close as far as 
 money matters are concerned, on purpose, I 
 believe, to make me stop at home, and I should 
 not be able to manage at present." 
 
 '^ Ah ! my dear fellow, that money," moral- 
 ized Leeson. ^^ *Tlie want of money is the root 
 of all evil.' But surely you could, with your 
 prospects, raise the wind somehow or another." 
 
 " Raise the wind ^" 
 
 '^Yes, beg, bag, or borrow the wherewithal. 
 I know a fellow, none of your grasping blood- 
 suckers, but a fair-dealing man, who only 
 charges ten per cent, when the security is good. 
 I will introduce you if you like." 
 
208 WILLIAM BATHURST. 
 
 But Bathurst, in consequence of what had 
 constantly come before his eyes in the study 
 and pursuit of his profession, was less innocent 
 about the perils and disasters attending 
 stamped paper transactions than in other mat- 
 ters, and shrank from taking the first step in 
 the ruinous course proposed to him. 
 
 " I think," said he, '^ that I could raise a 
 small sum without going to the Jews. My 
 Uncle Horace has been very generous to me 
 from time to time, making me presents of a 
 ten pound note or so on my birthdays, and 
 this money has always been put into a savings- 
 bank by my mother, but in my own name, to 
 teach me habits of economy. There must be 
 upwards of a hundred pounds there now|; and, 
 as I am of age, I have no doubt I can draw 
 it out without her knowing anything about 
 it." 
 
 '^ Capital ! And when that is gone, you 
 will be pretty near the time when you expect 
 to be independent. Anyhow, a man with a 
 
WILLIAM BATHURST. 209 
 
 hundred in his pocket is a king for to-day ; 
 and hang to-morrow — we may never live to 
 see it." 
 
 '- Yes, I think I can manage that," pursued 
 Bathurst, not attending to his friend's philoso- 
 phy ; " and then I will hire a bedroom near 
 here, and take some linen and things to it." 
 
 ^^ Exactly," said Leeson ; " and then you 
 had better have some clothes made. Excuse 
 me, my dear fellow, but you are horribly 
 dressed ! I will take you to my own tailor, 
 if you like ; he might possibly refuse to make 
 for you if you went alone, but he will do any- 
 thing for me." 
 
 *^ Thank you !" cried Bathurst, with real 
 and heartfelt gratitude. 
 
 He was rather staggered, though, when 
 they shortly afterwards paid a visit to Mr. 
 Swelsnip, by the wholesale character of that 
 artist's transactions. Three coats, five pair 
 of trousers, and half-a-dozen waistcoats, was 
 the smallest order he would condescend to 
 
 VOL. I. p 
 
210 WILLIAM BATHURST. 
 
 execute ; and the happy prospective possessor 
 of such a wardrobe wondered what on earth 
 he should ever do with it, while Leeson was 
 delighted with his perplexity. 
 
 '^ Do with it ?" cried the spendthrift — 
 *^ why, if you have more coats and trousers 
 than you want, you can sell them, when you 
 are hard up, to the second-hand dealers ; you 
 need not pay Swelsnip, you know, for years. 
 ^ Large profits and slow returns,' that is his 
 motto." 
 
 Bathurst ordered his new clothes to be sent, 
 when completed, to a room he had engaged in 
 Duke Street, whither, on the following day, 
 he also took some linen and toilet necessaries ; 
 and then, having drawn out the money he 
 spoke of, he was in a position to sleep in town 
 any night he chose. And he chose to do so 
 with increasing frequency. On two alternate 
 nights ; on two nights in succession ; on three 
 ditto, ditto ; and then he did not return home 
 for a week. 
 
WILLIAM BATHURST. 211 
 
 Mrs. Bathurst was in despair. Mr. John- 
 stone, occupied with his own domestic discom- 
 forts, said something about the corruption of 
 the human heart, but suggested non-inter- 
 ference. Mrs. Johnstone hinted delicately 
 that if Mrs. Bathurst were not so harsh and 
 strict, her son would not run away from her. 
 Mary thought her lover's conduct very odd, 
 but concluded that he was working very hard 
 to render himself marriageable, and found 
 returning to Acton every evening interfere 
 with his labours. Then the disconsolate mo- 
 ther travelled up to town, and paid a visit to 
 Mr. Horace Bathurst, who was confined to his 
 house by indisposition, and sought counsel of 
 him. He was affected by a singular inertness 
 and repugnance to exertion or worry of any 
 kind, but did his utmost to shake this off", and 
 give his sister-in-law the best counsel and ad- 
 vice he could on the occasion. 
 
 " I think I know William," he said. '' He 
 
 p2 
 
212 WILLIAM BATHURST. 
 
 is a lad of strong affections, and easily led, 
 and how it is that he has so suddenly resisted 
 your influence, I cannot quite explain. Still, 
 you know, you have kept him very strictly, 
 and he has been working hard. He is to en- 
 gage in the business on his own account in a few 
 weeks, and it is very likely that he is deter- 
 mined to have one holiday before he settles 
 down seriously to the labour of his life. If 
 you had shown him a moderate indulgence, 
 he would no doubt have consulted you upon 
 the matter, or, at all events, he would have 
 taken you into his confidence; but as you con- 
 demn all recreation and amusement in the 
 lump, he avoids you altogether while he is 
 having his little carnival. Of course he must 
 at the same time be subject to some influence 
 which is hostile to your own, or he would not 
 be able to break through the bonds in which 
 you have hitherto held him so suddenly and 
 decidedly." 
 
 ^^ Hostile influence!" cried the unhappy 
 
WILLIAM BATHURST. 213 
 
 mother — '^ do you think there may be a crea- 
 ture at the bottom of all this ?" 
 
 ** I suspect that such a solution of the mat- 
 ter would not be so very far from the truth," 
 replied Uncle Horace, with difficulty restrain- 
 ing a smile ; ^' I should fear he would be 
 rather susceptible '' 
 
 '' He shall be married to Mary Johnstone 
 at once !" cried the alarmed Mrs. Bathurst, 
 and then, mindful of the cookery-book and 
 the uncaught hare, she added, "Where do you 
 think I shall find him ?" 
 
 *' If I might suggest," said Mr. Bathurst, 
 " I should strongly, very strongly, recommend 
 you to let him alone, and wait quietly till he 
 comes home of his own accord. He must do 
 so soon, for he cannot have much money." 
 
 " Only five pounds, as far as I know." 
 
 " Well, then, his credit will not extend far, 
 and he must be back almost directly. If you 
 go about searching for him you will humiliate 
 and exasperate him." 
 
214 WILLIAM BATIIURST. 
 
 And he finally persuaded her to go home 
 quietly to Acton, where she presently fretted 
 herself ill. As for William, her son, he left 
 off going to the office ; he never went near 
 Acton ; he wore his fine new feathers and 
 thought himself a fine bird ; he was insepar- 
 able from his friend Leeson, and if poor Miss 
 Beebee, the anti-aspirative instruijtress of his 
 early days, could have been informed as to 
 how her former pupil was spending his days 
 and nights, she would have said that ^^ Master 
 Bathurst's 'abbits " were getting very bad in- 
 deed. 
 
 The influence gained over Bathurst by 
 Leeson in so short a time was most extra- 
 ordinary, and was owing to two causes — the 
 comfort which the coerced and hardworking 
 young lawyer experienced in being prompted 
 and encouraged by a stronger mind to taste 
 pleasures for which he had long been secretly 
 pining, but which he had shrunk from pluck- 
 ing on his own responsibility ; and the wonder 
 
WILLIAM BATHURST. 215 
 
 and gratitude he felt that so superior a being 
 should not only honour him with his friend- 
 ship, but should bestow his time and com- 
 panionship almost exclusively upon him. 
 And it did seem singular that a man who had 
 seen a great deal of the world for his age, 
 who belonged to a good club, had a rather 
 imposing address, was in no apparent want of 
 money, was handsome, must have met a great 
 many men at school and in the army, who 
 were now in London, and who had certainly 
 no lack of assurance, should have struck up 
 such a close friendship with one so different in 
 many respects, and of a spirit apparently so 
 uncongenial. But the reasons were several 
 and simple. William was not by any means a 
 dull companion when he had once broken 
 through his shyness ; Leeson had always liked 
 him ; the ignorance of the world's ways which 
 he displayed amused him beyond everything, 
 and his pride was tickled by perpetually play- 
 ing first fiddle, and having an auditor at his 
 
216 WILLIAM BATHURST. 
 
 elbow ready to applaud every note. Besides 
 all which, the manner in which he had left 
 the army was not very creditable to him, less 
 so, indeed, than he had allowed to appear in 
 the account which he gave to William ; and 
 he had found, on his return to England, that 
 his old friends were inclined to look rather 
 shyly upon him. So that the close friendship 
 he formed with Bathurst was not that exces- 
 sive compliment which the latter imagined 
 it. 
 
217 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 MINNIE COOK GOES TO SCHOOL. 
 
 That peculiar state of the mind in which one 
 human being finds itself compelled to concen- 
 trate its afiections upon another of an opposite 
 sex, and which we call love, varies in its at- 
 tributes of calmness, rationality, and absorption 
 of all other feelings and passions, according to 
 the amount of imagination mixed up with it. 
 Love at first sight is simply the embodiment 
 of an ideal character of our own in the face 
 and person of the object of our sudden in- 
 fatuation, who may not resemble the image 
 we picture to ourselves in any one particular ; 
 in which case, a leisurely repentance is only 
 
218 WILLIAM BATHURST. 
 
 too likely to be the result of a hasty mar- 
 riage ; while a love which has grown upon us 
 slowly and imperceptibly, during a long 
 period of intimacy with the person for whom 
 we feel it, is, though less spasmodic, much 
 more likely to endure, as, indeed, if it does 
 not last through life, the fault cannot be at- 
 tributed to the disappointment consequent 
 upon the bursting of a cherished illusion, but 
 must be placed to the account of some in- 
 herent fickleness in the mind which changes. 
 
 Mary Johnstone had a real and warm at- 
 tachment to William Bathurst ; but it was not 
 the romantic hero-worship of a girl for a 
 lover whom she has only known for a short 
 time, and under favourable circumstances, 
 and whom she considers to be the bravest, 
 cleverest, handsomest, least selfish of men. 
 No, Mary knew the character of the man she 
 was willing, some day, to marry, well enough ; 
 knew his want of energy, his tendency to 
 self-indulgence, his proneness to neglect any 
 
WILLIAM BATHURST. 219 
 
 duty which was distasteful, to discount future 
 interests for the peace and quietness of the 
 moment, and to purchase the good humour of 
 anyone he happened to be with, by following 
 his lead, too careless whether it were in a 
 good or a bad direction. I do not mean to 
 say that she ever put it to herself plainly, 
 and in so many words, that such was his 
 character; but having grown up with him 
 from infancy, she was aware of it all the same, 
 and liked him none the worse ; as we do not 
 dislike those with whom we are intimate, or 
 to whom we are used, for any faults and fail- 
 ings which are not of an unamiable nature ; 
 and we often condemn or jeer at strangers for 
 traits of character which appear quite natural, 
 and not particularly objectionable in members 
 of our own family. Of course, she thought him 
 rather better than he was; pure-minded women 
 always treat their lovers, brothers, husbands, 
 and fathers in that charitable manner — bless 
 them for it ! we should be a great deal worse if 
 
220 WILLIAM BATHURST. 
 
 they did not — but that was because she was 
 ignorant of the workings of the human heart, 
 and not from any bandage thrown over her 
 eyes by the god whom the ancients repre- 
 sented as blind. 
 
 Being in love, then, in this calm, sober, and 
 comfortable manner, she did not indulge in any 
 fits of jealous indignation at William Bathurst's 
 neither coming to see her, nor writing for 
 a whole week. She heard with sorrow that 
 he had quarrelled with his mother, and had 
 gone to stay, as was believed and stated by 
 that lady, with a friend in London ; she also 
 thought it rather odd that he had not com- 
 municated with herself, seeing that he was 
 accustomed to consult her upon everything he 
 did. She concluded, however, that Mrs. 
 Bathurst had exercised her authority in some 
 manner so coercive that even the calm spirit 
 of William had revolted against it, and that 
 he had gone off in a tiff with all mankind, and 
 was solacing himself by an utter absorption 
 
WILLIAM BATHURST. 221 
 
 in legal studies, but that he would come back 
 in a repentant state in a day or two. 
 
 Perhaps, as the most Platonical love is 
 highly resentful of anything like a slight, she 
 might not have considered the matter so 
 calmly, had it not been that her attention was 
 so much engrossed by the far more serious 
 disturbances in her own home. There seemed 
 to be something in the air hostile to the re- 
 lations between parents and children ; for while 
 her lover was rebelling against the authority 
 of his mother, her brother had come to some- 
 thing very like an open rupture with his 
 father. 
 
 When Harry Johnstone had bidden good- 
 bye to his mother, sister, and Minnie, he re- 
 turned to Oxford, with the intention of taking 
 his name off the boards on the very day he 
 came of age, preparatory to seeking to earn 
 his living in some more rapid manner than 
 he could by entering one of the learned pro- 
 fessions, except in the highly-improbable 
 
222 WILLIAM BATHURST. 
 
 event of his father's altering his intentions 
 with regard to Minnie Cook, by consenting 
 to her remaining an inmate of his house, as 
 she had hitherto done, or continuing Harry's 
 own allowance after he had married her. And 
 now he wrote daily either to Minnie, his mo- 
 ther, or his sister, and what with consulta- 
 tions over his letters, and the task of sym- 
 pathising with and consoling the young girl, who 
 was to her as a sister, and who was now for 
 the first time to be taken from her, and sent 
 away to school, Mary Bathurst had enough to 
 occupy her. 
 
 It must be urged, on behalf of Mr. John- 
 stone, that he had the decency to be somewhat 
 ashamed of himself ; and he showed this by 
 avoiding, as much as possible, all intercourse 
 with the orphan girl, towards whom he was 
 not behaving with that Christian benevolence 
 and impulsive generosity which it was his 
 desire that his fellow-creatures should con- 
 sider as the salient points of his character. 
 
WILLIAM BATHURST. 223 
 
 Every communication of his will was made, 
 therefore, through his wife, who, though dis- 
 approving of her husband's conduct, allowed 
 herseK to be made the passive agent of his 
 purposes. For Mr. Johnstone had established 
 himself as a despot in his own house, and 
 Mrs. Johnstone never for a moment dreamt 
 of open revolt, though she was perfectly ready 
 to enter into any secret conspiracy on behalf 
 of the girl whom she had grown accustomed 
 to reckon as one of her children. She had, 
 she was aware, done all she could to encour- 
 age the match between Harry and Minnie, 
 and could not find it in her heart or conscience 
 to turn right round and set her face dead 
 against it. The course of temperate remon- 
 strance with her husband had been tried, and 
 met with a fierce threat that he would turn 
 the girl out of his house, and do nothing more 
 for her whatever, if he met with opposition ; 
 and as the good lady was not aware how 
 little he dare carry such a threat into 
 
224 WILLIAM BATHURST. 
 
 execution, she was driven into dissimulation. 
 
 It was to his wife, then, and not to the 
 girl herself, that Mr. Johnstone conveyed the 
 information one morning that he had made 
 arrangements with the Misses Stifton, who 
 kept a girl's school at Clifton, near Bristol, 
 for the reception of Minnie in their establish- 
 ment, to which Mrs. Johnstone was to take 
 her early in the following week. 
 
 "You will make her understand," he 
 added, " that I am acting solely in her inter- 
 est ; she will have to gain her livelihood by 
 engaging in the task of tuition ; and as she 
 is hardly competent at present to practise — to 
 — to, in fact, to go out as a governess, I hope 
 that she will make the best use of her time, 
 and take advantage of the opportunities which, 
 with a generosity which is not entirely called 
 for, I place within her reach. You had like- 
 wise better point out to her that if she has 
 not been hitherto brought up with an especial 
 view to her having to instruct others, it is 
 
WILLIAM BATHURST. 225 
 
 because I was deceived as to her future pros- 
 pects and expectations ; and if she finds it 
 hard now to give up suddenly all idea of be- 
 ing a fine lady, she has only her father to 
 thank for the disappointment. I am a hard 
 working man, with enough to do to provide 
 for my own family. I cannot support other 
 men's children in idleness, even if there were 
 no other reasons for her not remaining an in- 
 mate of my house." 
 
 And so Mr. Johnstone, fearing an appeal 
 which the girl was far too high-spirited to 
 make, never mentioned the matter before her 
 till the d^y appointed for her departure, 
 when, after a breakfast taken in solemn and 
 somewhat awkward silence, he rose from the 
 table at his usual omnibus time, and held out 
 his hand. 
 
 " Good-bye, Miss Cook. You are now go- 
 ing amongt strangers, to fit yourself for that 
 struggle with the world which is the lot of all 
 those who have to earn their own living. 
 
 VOL. I. o 
 
226 WILLIAM BATHURST. 
 
 You have had more advantages than young 
 persons in your position are often favoured 
 with ; and I trust you will never forget the 
 precepts and examples of industry and piety 
 which have been set continually before you 
 since you have been a member of this house- 
 hold. Make a good use of your time, and 
 pay attention to the instructions and wishes 
 of the exemplary ladies under whose care you 
 are to be this day placed ; and when you are 
 fitted to engage in the pleasing and useful 
 task of tuition, I will take care to find a suit- 
 able situation for you — a service which you, 
 in your inexperience, may consider light and 
 easy, but which, without my assistance, you 
 would find it exceedingly difficult to perform 
 for yourself, though the respect in which I am 
 held by men of high position in the land will 
 enable me to render it to you with compara- 
 tive facility." 
 
 "I shall never forget," replied Minnie, 
 quietly rising and taking the proffered hand 
 
WILLIAM BATHURST. 227 
 
 — ^' I shall never forget the kindness which I 
 have received under this roof ; for the present 
 and future I am helpless and must do what I 
 can — not what I wish. I have only one 
 request to make you, and that is, that you 
 will let me know at once if ever you hear 
 anything more of my poor father, however 
 distressing the news may be." 
 
 " Of course, certainly," replied Mr. John- 
 stone ; " the omnibus is due ; once more, 
 good-bye." 
 
 '^ Good-bye," and he took his departure. 
 
 Then the three ladies and the housemaid 
 performed that bustling, dusty, heating, 
 memory-trying, muscle-straining, bewildering 
 ceremony — finishing the packing ; and an 
 hour afterwards a fly drove up to the door, 
 and when Minnie and Mary had kissed and 
 wept over each other for a good ten minutes, 
 the former got into the vehicle, where Mrs. 
 Johnstone, several band-boxes, and a large 
 nosegay were already stowed away, and was 
 
 q2 
 
228 WILLIAM BATHURST. 
 
 driven to the Han well Station of the Great Wes- 
 tern Railway, only just in time for the train, 
 the leavetaking having caused so much de- 
 lay. 
 
 Mary, left alone in the house, with the 
 sense that her friend was gone entirely, that 
 her mother would not return till the following 
 day, and that there was the prospect of a 
 tete-a-tete with her father, with whom she was 
 not very well pleased that evening, had a 
 regular good cry ; and then, when she was 
 tired of the pump business, she wrote a minute 
 account of everything which everybody in the 
 house had said, done, or looked on that event- 
 ful morning and the previous evening, for the 
 edification of her brother.. When the letter 
 was finished she put on her bonnet and posted 
 it herself, and then went to call on Mrs. 
 Batliurst, whom she was shocked to find 
 really ill. Her son had now absented himself 
 from home for several successive days, with- 
 out giving her any other intimation of where 
 
WILLIAM BATHURST. 229 
 
 he was, or what he was about, than that con- 
 tained in a hurried note, stating that, as he 
 had several engagements that week, he 
 thought it better to take a lodging for a few 
 days than to put her household arrangements 
 out by returning home late at night ; and the 
 constant worry and anxiety of mind which 
 this conduct had given her, had brought on an 
 attack of her complaint. Mary sent one of 
 the servants for the medical man, and re- 
 mained all the afternoon with the sick lady, 
 only returning home in time for her father's 
 dinner. She also wrote to William, telling 
 him that his mother was unwell, and he must 
 come home at once ; and as he had not men- 
 tioned where his present lodging was, directed 
 her letter to the office. 
 
 In the meantime, Mrs. Johnstone and Minnie 
 arrived at Bristol, and then exchanged the 
 flying railway carriage for a torpid fly, and 
 proceeded to crawl between the most pic- 
 turesque and dirtiest houses they had ever 
 
230 WILLIAM BATllURST. 
 
 seen, across a magnificent open square, the 
 sides of which were warehouses, public build- 
 ings, and churches, and the centre a maze of 
 docks and drawbridges, up a street so steep 
 that they expected every minute to see the 
 horse perform a somerset over their heads, 
 and so eventually to Clifton. 
 
 The establishment for young ladies kept by 
 the Misses Stifton was a good-sized semi- 
 detached house on the Downs ; the small 
 garden in front and rear of the building was 
 environed by such a very high wall that the 
 view from the windows of the rooms on the 
 ground floor was exceedingly contracted, but 
 from the bedrooms the prospect was delight- 
 ful, embracing the Avon, winding along be- 
 tween the Lee woods, the broad expanse of 
 the Bristol channel, and, in very clear weather, 
 a distant glimpse of the blue Welsh hills. 
 The air was healthy and invigorating, as was 
 natural on such high ground, and altogether the 
 first impression of the place upon the stranger 
 
WILLIAM BATHURST. 231 
 
 was pleasing, in spite of the dull appearance of 
 the high wall round the small garden, and the 
 chilling effect of the unscholastic half of the 
 building, the other semi-detachment being 
 closely shut up, the chimneys smokeless, the 
 shutters and doors in great need of paint, the 
 broken windows unmended ; a dead Siamese 
 twin still joined to its living brother. But 
 what superficial influence of that description 
 could take the giggle out of twenty girls 
 aged from twelve to eighteen? 
 
 On entering the hall, Mrs. Johnstone, who 
 went first, found herself confronted by a lady 
 of imposing appearance. Imposing — vague ? 
 Well, perhaps it is. Let me try to explain 
 what I mean by the term. She was past 
 forty, five feet eight and a half, very erect, 
 full-blown — might one be permitted the use 
 of the vulgar expression, '^ crummy"? Her 
 hair was black and plentiful, and the cap 
 she wore sat upon it like a crown ; her nose 
 was aquiline, her mouth firm, her chin double; 
 
232 WILLIAM BATHURST. 
 
 she wore a rustling rich black silk dress, with 
 a gold chain meandering over it, and she also 
 used a gold eye-glass. That is what I call an 
 imposing woman, with nothing about her to 
 detract from the effect, so that she probably 
 had an artistic eye. Spectacles, now, would 
 have spoilt her, while an eye-glass made her 
 almost solemn; it is the little touches which 
 make or mar all. This commanding figure 
 began sinking, sinking until it nearly sat on 
 the door-mat, and then slowly rose again with 
 a backward curve, and finally stood once more 
 erect. Such a curtsy! Her visitor tried to 
 salute as profoundly as she could in return, 
 but was up again before the other had 
 culminated. 
 
 " Mrs. Johnstone, I presume?" 
 
 '' Yes." 
 
 ^' I am Miss Sappho Stifton : be pleased 
 to walk into the drawing-room. This is the 
 young lady who is to be entrusted to our 
 care ? How do you do, my dear ? I have 
 
WILLIAM BATHURST. 233 
 
 no doubt .you will be well and comfortable 
 here. Admirable situation, ma'am, is it not ? 
 Fine air, and the best masters from Bristol — 
 music, French, drawing, dancing on alternate 
 days. A very comme il faut etablissement of 
 ours this, I can assure you ; and we finish 
 a young lady just as well as they do at 
 the Ehodolentia Mansion on the other side of 
 the Downs, where they charge three hundred 
 a year for each pupil. Your interesting ward, 
 ma'am, is desirous, as I understand from Mr. 
 Johnstone's letter, of engaging shortly herself 
 in the grand oeuvre of tuition — she could not 
 have been entrusted to our care at a better 
 time for learning how to fit herself for the 
 task, and for forwarding her future interests, 
 as we have several scions of most aristocratic 
 houses at present in our jpetite famille. For 
 instance, there is Miss Higginbottom, the 
 daughter of Lady Higginbottom, a most 
 amiable girl, who, I have no doubt, would be 
 able to obtain an admirable situation for any 
 
234 WILLIAM BATHURST. 
 
 school-fellow for whom she conceived a friend- 
 ship. My sister, Miss Jane Stifton, is not in 
 at present — I hope you will excuse her not 
 paying her devoirs to you." 
 
 The good lady rattled on in this way at 
 such a pace that Mrs. Johnstone had some 
 difficulty in putting in the few leading ques- 
 tions she wished to ask relative to the do- 
 mestic arrangements and comforts of the 
 school, all of which seemed to be under the 
 management of the other and non-forthcoming 
 sister ; however, she gained what information 
 she could, and finally took her leave, not over 
 and above satisfied. 
 
 When she was gone, and Minnie was left 
 alone in the drawing-room with her school- 
 mistress, she was rather distressed, as a girl 
 finding herself for the first time amongst 
 strangers naturally would be ; but Miss 
 Sappho's manner was kind and reassuring, 
 though not excessively delicate. 
 
 *' There, there, my dear," said she ; *' don't 
 
WILLIAM BATHUEST. 235 
 
 take on so. You will be very happy and 
 comfortable here. Is Mrs. Johnstone your 
 aunt ?" 
 
 " No," replied Minnie. ** She is no rela- 
 tion at all ; but she has brought me up 
 from infancy, and I look upon her as a 
 mother." 
 
 " Ah ! then you have lost your own — poor 
 thing I And is your father living?" 
 
 While Minnie was explaining her position 
 and relations with the Johnstone family, the 
 door suddenly opened, and a shrill voice 
 cried, 
 
 ** I do declare, Sappho, it is too bad ! — 
 there's the beer gone sour again, and it has 
 not been on draught a week. Maltstingy 
 says that if we give a shilling a gallon it will 
 keep longer ; but as I say to him, ^ Tenpence 
 is plenty,' says I ; 'we don't want to give 
 the girls a taste for drinking,' says I. Ah ! 
 the new pupil — how do you do, miss ? 
 Another grown up one, I declare ! Well, if 
 
236 WILLIAM BATHURST. 
 
 the big ones give more trouble in some matters, 
 Providence balances all things, and they eat 
 less than the little ones. Is your appetite 
 good, miss ?" 
 
 The person who put this unexpected query 
 was a little woman of considerable pretensions 
 to ugliness. She had weak eyes, a nose 
 which presented its nostrils like port-holes at 
 the beholder, a mouth of great width, a shape- 
 less figure, and the right leg shorter than the 
 other, though, as if to illustrate her own 
 theory of Providential balancing, the latter 
 defect was compensated for by a correspond- 
 ing elevation of the left shoulder. This 
 Venus Antipodes had no recourse to art for 
 the disguise of her natural defects ; her false 
 front of corkscrew curls was the ugliest which 
 could have been selected ; her large cap must 
 have been made up for her by a milliner given 
 to practical jokes ; and the defects of her ill- 
 fitting, shabby, maroon-coloured stuff gown 
 were brought into strong relief by a bran- 
 
WILLIAM BATHURST. 237 
 
 new silk apron of bright green ; while her 
 hands, which were the only well-made and 
 handsome portions of her body, were always 
 carefully hidden away in old kid gloves half a 
 dozen sizes too large for her, and so worn and 
 stained that it was impossible to guess at 
 their original tint. 
 
 This was Miss Jane Stifton, who managed all 
 the household affairs, but never meddled with 
 the school business, or made her appearance 
 before parents or guardians. In fact, Sappho 
 was the schoolmistress, and her sister the 
 housekeeper. 
 
 The appearance and address of this singular 
 creature was of great use to Minnie in re- 
 covering her cheerfulness, as there was some- 
 thing so irresistibly odd about the poor old 
 thing that a far duller sense of humour than 
 hers would have been tickled by the appari- 
 tion ; and she was presently in sufficient 
 spirits to undergo introduction to her school- 
 fellows. 
 
238 WILLIAM BATHURST. 
 
 There were only two old enough to be her 
 companions — Miss Polly Higginbottom, who 
 was a romp, and Miss Clarissa Tucker, who 
 was romantic ; and Minnie, who was a nice, 
 frank, winning girl, was very good friends 
 with both of them in half an hour, though, 
 as they were rather dull by nature, and as 
 their early education had been sadly neglected, 
 the new comer established a decided and in- 
 stinctive superiority over them at once. The 
 younger children naturally looked up to a 
 grown woman ; and so she, who had been all 
 her life the youngest member of the family in 
 which she lived, and had been consequently 
 accustomed to defer to others, found herself 
 suddenly in a position to advise and patronise 
 those about her, which was not altogether un- 
 pleasant. 
 
 Minnie was sharp enough to find out very 
 soon that Mr. Johnstone had merely sent her 
 to school to get her out of the way for a time, 
 until he should find an opportunity of placing 
 
WILLIAM BATHURST. 239 
 
 her in some situation as a governess, and not, 
 as he professed, with any definite idea of com- 
 pleting her education ; for had such been his 
 principal object, he would have made stricter 
 inquiries into the qualifications of the Miss 
 Stiftons for accomplishing it, which, in truth, 
 were nil. 
 
 The fact was that Mr. Johnstone had been 
 attracted by one quality, and one quality only, 
 of this third-rate Clifton seminary ; and that 
 was its cheapness. The charges certainly 
 were uncommonly reasonable, and how so 
 many professors of various arts could be en- 
 gaged for the money was a puzzle to the un- 
 initiated, who were not aware that the French, 
 Italian, drawing, music, and dancing masters 
 were all united in one gifted individual, who 
 had also, at a former period of his restless 
 existence, been a courier, and who was not 
 so proficient in any one of the things he under- 
 took to teach, except French, which was his 
 native language, as Minnie Cook herself. 
 
240 WILLIAM BATHURST. 
 
 Let me be accurate. There was another 
 branch of instruction imparted by the pro- 
 fessor to his pupils, of which Minnie had 
 hitherto been entirely ignorant. On the 
 second morning after her arrival she heard a 
 great deal of laughing in the garden at the 
 back of the house, and going to the spot found 
 the ten eldest girls ranged in a line before the 
 body of an old hackney coach, propped up on 
 trestles to the height at which it was wont to 
 stand in the palmy days when it had wheels, 
 and M. Jean Toutmetier separately handing 
 the members of his class in at one door, and 
 then skipping lightly round to the other side, 
 elegantly aiding them to descend on the other. 
 The laughter was caused by the obstreperous 
 conduct of Miss Higginbottom, who entered 
 the carriage in the most affected and mincing 
 manner, but jumped out with a bounce at the 
 other door before the professor, agile as he 
 was, had time to get round to hand her down 
 the steps. 
 
WILLIAM BATHURST. 241 
 
 But I may be excused for nearly having 
 forgotten this teaching of the accomplishment 
 of getting in and out of a carriage in my enume- 
 ration of the items of instruction, which were 
 not better understood by Minnie than by the 
 teacher whose business it was to impart them 
 to her, seeing that it entirely escaped the 
 notice of Miss Sappho Stifton herself, who 
 was somewhat perplexed when she found what 
 an accomplished pupil she had got to put the 
 finishing touches to, and felt much in the 
 position of that artist who had a lily brought 
 him to be painted a little whiter. Being an 
 honest woman, her first impulse was to write 
 to Mr. Johnstone, and tell him fairly that she 
 could do nothing for the young lady ; but 
 being also a poor one, to whom a pupil was 
 an object, she reflected further, and came to 
 the conclusion that the gentleman probably 
 knew what he was about, and that his only 
 wish was that Miss Cook should have a home 
 for a time in a respectable house, where, if 
 
 VOL. I. R 
 
242 WILLIAM BATHURST. 
 
 she got no particular good, she would, at any 
 rate, come to no harm. Still the good lady 
 felt an awkwardness at seeing the pupil take 
 her place in a class which she was more com- 
 petent to teach than the instructor, though, 
 at the same time, she saw the danger of giving 
 her free leave to dispose of her own time as 
 she pleased ; and she was quite delighted, 
 therefore, when she hit upon a plan which she 
 thought would be equally beneficial to all 
 parties concerned. Directly this notable idea 
 occurred to her, she sought out Minnie, drew 
 her mysteriously into the drawing-room — as 
 the one apartment in the house which was 
 reserved for the sole use of the sister mistresses 
 was called — and expounded it to her thus : 
 
 " When the gentleman who has charge of 
 you asked me by letter whether I could re- 
 ceive you into my establishment, merely 
 mentioning that you had been entrusted to 
 his care by a gentleman in the East, I ex- 
 pected to have to deal with a rude, spoilt, and 
 
WILLIAM BATHURST. 243 
 
 ignorant person, who had not been taught the 
 rudiments of the common subjects of a young 
 lady's education.'^ 
 
 Here Miss Jane Stifton entered the room, 
 and Minnie offered to rise. 
 
 '^ Oh ! never mind my sister. Sit down, 
 Jane !'' said Sappho. ^' I judged thus, be- 
 cause Mr. Johnstone entered into no explana- 
 tions, and the only pupil who had come to us 
 in a similar manner knew absolutely nothing, 
 and, though she was sixteen, had to go into 
 the youngest class. '^ 
 
 '' But she kept the whole school in pine- 
 apple jam and guava jelly !" cried Miss Jane. 
 
 '^ You, on the contrary," continued Miss 
 Sappho, " have had the advantage of better 
 masters than we can afford to employ, for 
 though it does not do to own as much to the 
 public, yet " 
 
 " Never cry ' stinking fish,' you know," 
 observed Miss Jane. 
 
 " Yet,'' continued Miss Sappho, merely re- 
 
 K 2 
 
Mi WILLIAM BATHURST. 
 
 buking the interruption by an emphasis, " we 
 do not really mean to profess to undertake the 
 higher branches of feminine education — a fact 
 which we conceive to be patent from the low 
 character of our charges, and which is gene- 
 rally so well understood from that symptom, 
 that we have never had a pupil who had 
 previously received any good instruction sent 
 to us before. This may seem inconsistent 
 with what I said the other day to the lady 
 who accompanied you here, but " 
 
 " But the parents will have lies told 'em, 
 though they knows 'era to be such ! And 
 what is one to do with pupils falling off, and 
 mutton at the present prices, not to mention 
 the income-tax, which it drives one wild to 
 think of/' 
 
 '* Pray do not interrupt me, Jane, while I 
 am developing my ideas to Miss Cook. It 
 has struck me, then, that as there is a wide 
 difference between the possession of knowledge 
 and the power of imparting it to others, and 
 
WILLIAM BATHURST. 245 
 
 as you are destined to the latter work, you 
 may spend your time profitably while an in- 
 mate of this establishment, by taking the 
 opportunity of acquiring the art. Suppose 
 you were to take a class, and, in a light and 
 friendly way, were to see if you could instruct 
 it in any branch which you liked to select, 
 eh?" 
 
 Minnie had anything but a taste for teach- 
 ing, and this proposition for her to become an 
 amateur governess did not exactly meet her 
 wishes. She also had wit enough to see that 
 though Miss Sappho only alluded to the bene- 
 fit of the plan to herself, she would not be do- 
 ing a bad stroke of business on her own 
 account if she got a governess who, instead of 
 receiving a salary, paid her. However, as 
 the poor girl was rather destitute of friends, 
 and this seemed to be a good opportunity of 
 adding to her collection of those useful arti- 
 cles, and as, moreover, she was particularly 
 anxious, for reasons of her own, to conciliate 
 
246 WILLIAM BATHURST. 
 
 those in whose power she found herself, she 
 acceded to the proposal, and entered upon a 
 task which proved to be even more irksome 
 than she had anticipated. She was, to a cer- 
 tain extent, repaid, however, by becoming a 
 general favourite, which is always pleasant, no 
 matter who or what it is, fellow -creature, bird, 
 or beast, that shows a liking to us. Miss 
 Sappho Stifton liked her because she had 
 fallen in with her plan ; Miss Jane because 
 her appetite was small ; the girls whom she 
 taught because, while she was always ready to 
 do her best for those who wished to learn, she 
 did not consider it part of her business to in- 
 terfere with those who rather preferred to be 
 idle, and therefore never either inflicted pun- 
 ishments herself, or reported delinquents to 
 the mistress. The two elder girls were 
 remarkably fond of her, because she was a 
 sympathising confidante ; and Clarissa Tucker 
 would pour into her ear by the hour the 
 details of a hopeless passion, of which she was 
 
WILLIAM BATHURST. 247 
 
 the victim ; wliile Polly Higginbottom con- 
 fided to her the fact that her father had been 
 knighted for cheating his fellow-creatures in 
 the sale of tea and mustard, and that her lady 
 mother had, at an earlier period of her career, 
 sold tripe in Holborn. 
 
 But, delightful as it was to be made the 
 recipient of such interesting confessions, 
 Minnie was disappointed about one thing. 
 She had hoped that, when womanised by the 
 position of a teacher, she would receive her 
 letters unopened ; whereas Miss Sappho con- 
 tinued to break the seals, and glance at the 
 contents of her epistles in the same way as she 
 did those of the other girls ; and when, on the 
 first favourable opportunity, she adverted to 
 the matter, she was told that it was done at 
 Mr. Johnstone's express desire. 
 
248 
 
 CHAPTER XL 
 
 WHY MR. COOK SENT NO MORE REMITTANCES. 
 
 It is recorded in the archives of Burmah that, 
 once upon a time, in the good old days before 
 the horde of Europeans which overruns the 
 land in these degenerate times, had appeared 
 to corrupt the people with new fangled no- 
 tions, hostile to the creed and customs of their 
 forefathers, the royal city was thrown into a 
 state of great excitement by the approach of 
 a merchant of enormous wealth and energy. 
 The reports which preceded him from the sea- 
 port town where he had passed the customs, 
 and transferred his treasures from a ponderous 
 ship to vessels of lighter draught, which might 
 
WILLIAM BATHURST. 249 
 
 pass up the river, were astounding as regarded 
 his appearance, his wisdom, his generosity, 
 and, above all, his possessions, so that the 
 whole population of Amerapoorah crowded 
 down to the landing-place when the expected 
 flotilla hove in sight. The merchant, however, 
 refused to trade until he had prostrated him- 
 self before the king, and demanded his protec- 
 tection and favour ; and for that purpose he 
 prayed for an audience of his majesty, which 
 the potent and terrible monarch graciously 
 accorded. The stranger, who was fair of 
 complexion, but who Avas dressed in the cos- 
 tume, and spoke the language of the country, 
 laid such magnificent offerings at the feet 
 of the king and his august spouses, as in- 
 clined the monarch to look upon him with 
 favour ; nor was he neglectful of the col- 
 lateral branches of the royal family, nor of the 
 ministers of state. When he had secured the 
 good offices of all those who had the power 
 to thwart or injure him, he commenced the 
 
250 WILLIAM BATHURST. 
 
 business of a trader, and wonderful were the 
 wares which he disposed of to the eager pur- 
 chasers who flocked to his stores : — knives 
 which would cut like the sword of the destroy- 
 ing angel, clothes of a fineness of texture and 
 brilliancy and variety of colour which had 
 never been seen before in Burmah; guns which 
 would kill at a fabulous distancje, which gene- 
 rally went off on the first pulling of the trigger, 
 and which rarely burst ; instruments which, 
 Avhen looked through, made far things come 
 near ; needles which rendered the task of sew- 
 ing a hundred-fold more easy; and many other 
 articles which added to the comforts of life. 
 And when this great merchant's stores were 
 exhausted, he bought certain products of the 
 country, and sent them down to the coast, 
 where they were taken on board big ships, 
 which sailed away, and then came back again 
 with a fresh supply of the goods which the 
 Burmese desired. And not only did this 
 merchant buy and sell, but by reason of his 
 
^VILLIAM BATHURST. 251 
 
 wisdom, and the power he had of saying "This 
 man talks nonsense, and that man talks sense," 
 at once, and without taking a long time for 
 cogitation, he became a great favourite with 
 the king, who paid him honour, and consulted 
 him in all the affairs of state. And he went 
 on, increasing in wealth and influence, until 
 an insignificant foreign people, called the 
 English, had the audacity to defy the king, 
 and they went to war with him, and sent 
 ships which possessed the power of continually 
 launching thunderbolts all day and night, to 
 destroy his forts and cities, and soldiers to 
 attack his invincible Burmese armies, and men 
 with stirring words to incite his Pegu subjects 
 to rebellion. And while the king was in great 
 wrath for all these things, it was told him that 
 the merchant was none other than an English- 
 man ; therefore the king caused him to be 
 tortured, and when he confessed that he be- 
 longed to that abominable people, he was thrust 
 into prison, and no more was heard of him. 
 
252 WILLIAM BATHURST. 
 
 If any Burmese archives are stored up in 
 Ava, and if I had access to them, I have little 
 doubt but what I should find some such ac- 
 count as the above of the career of Mr. Cook 
 in that country ; but it would end Avith his 
 disappearance, the secrets of Asiatic prisons 
 being well kept by the natives ; so that, in 
 consequence of the peculiar affliction which 
 befell the ill-fated merchant, there has been 
 great difficulty in gleaning even the most 
 meagre account of what befell him, from the 
 moment of his arrest to the day when he ar- 
 rived, a broken and shattered man, at Calcutta, 
 on his way to England. 
 
 That his life was preserved, and a consider- 
 able portion of his property ultimately 
 saved from the general wreck, seems to have 
 been owing to Swai-ee, the intelligent and 
 enterprising Burmese who had originally sug- 
 gested the undertaking, which, had it not been 
 for the unfortunate interposition of war, would 
 have been so entirely successful. 
 
WILLIAM BATHURST. 253 
 
 When an Asiatic once attaches himself to 
 a European, his devotion often surpasses the 
 wildest dreams of chivalrous romance ; and 
 Swai-ee must have perilled his life again and 
 again to save that of his friend and partner. 
 For it was really in this capacity that he had 
 accompanied Mr. Cook to Amerapoorah, 
 though, at his own desire, he had assumed the 
 more humble position of head-clerk and obe- 
 dient servant. For the astute Indian con- 
 sidered that, while it was necessary to the 
 success of the firm that one member should 
 acquire power and influence, and bask in the 
 sun of the royal favour, it was no less desir- 
 able that the other should seek rather to 
 avoid notice — that, in case the despot should 
 take a fancy, in some sudden fit of rage, jea- 
 lousy, greed, or caprice, to wring the neck of 
 the goose which laid the golden eggs, there 
 might be oiie left to work for the concealment 
 and partial preservation of the common pro- 
 perty and the rescue — always possible to the 
 
254 WILLIAM BATIIURST. 
 
 rich in a land where every official exists by 
 bril)ery — of his partner. 
 
 The wisdom of this course became apparent 
 when Mr. Cook was suddenly arrested, for 
 Swai-ee, the humble servant, attracted no at- 
 tention, and was so enabled to convey pro- 
 perty of great value to a place of safety ; and 
 though he was not able to gain any access to 
 the prisoner, far less to effect his escape, he 
 managed to ingratiate himself with those 
 officers about the court who immediately 
 executed the king's commands, and by this 
 means learned the various places where his 
 friend was confined, and contrived, by a 
 judicious application of the most effisctive of 
 arguments, in some degree to alleviate his 
 condition. 
 
 He had provisions conveyed to him, without 
 which he must have starved ; he obtained that 
 the torments to which he was subjected should 
 not be pushed beyond the limits of human- 
 endurance, and, on three several occasions, 
 
WILLIAM BATIIURST. 255 
 
 he bribed the minister whose business it was 
 to see that his monarch's most bloodthirsty 
 behests were accomplished, to strike his name 
 from the list of those who were ordered for 
 execution — an evasion of his duty which was 
 not so dangerous to that official as it sounds, 
 because the king in his calmer moments had 
 a salutary dread of the probable consequences 
 of putting a British subject to death, and was 
 not inclined to inquire too closely how it hap- 
 pened that an order, issued under the influ- 
 ence of the temporary insanity of royal pas- 
 sion, was not, as yet, carried into effect. But 
 though his life was spared, the sufferings 
 undergone by Mr. Cook were fearful. He 
 was tortured by fire, by cord, by the rack ; 
 he was beaten ; he was immured for months 
 in a loathsome room crowded with prisoners 
 of the lowest grade and character, where, 
 tormented by thirst, devoured by vermin, 
 covered with festering wounds, he lay and 
 brooded. For the distress of his mind was 
 
256 WILLIAM BATHURST. 
 
 equal to that of his body, when he reflected 
 upon the situation in which this unforeseen 
 calamity would place his child. What would 
 happen to her now that she received from him 
 no means of support? The state of physical 
 prostration to which he was reduced naturally 
 caused him to imagine and fear the worst, 
 and his fevered brain conjured up scenes which 
 nearly drove him mad. From mental an- 
 guish the unfortunate prisoner was at length 
 freed by the obscuration of his intellect. He 
 was sent after a while far into the interior, 
 amongst a batch of other wretches ; and on 
 their arrival one evening at the miserable hut 
 where they were to pass the night, their jailers, 
 to prevent the possibility of any attempt to 
 escape, hit upon the ingenious contrivance of 
 laying them on their backs and fastening their 
 ankles to a long bamboo which was slung in a 
 rope at either end. The bamboo was then 
 hauled up to a height of about four feet, so 
 that the prisoners rested with their necks and 
 
WILLIAM BATHURST. 257 
 
 shoulders on the ground and their feet in the 
 air, a position in which any attempt at escape 
 was certainly impossible. But their bare feet 
 were blistered and bleeding from the long 
 march over burning sands, the musquitoes 
 swarmed in myriads, and — but what mind can 
 dwell on such a horrible torment ? Suffice it 
 to say that in the morning three of the party 
 were dead, and five, amongst whom was poor 
 Cook, were mad. 
 
 Yet, wonderful to say, he lived on ; and 
 years afterwards, when the war was over, his 
 prison doors were thrown open, and Swai-ee, 
 receiving his fever-stricken, emaciated, and 
 unconscious frame, tended him with such un- 
 remitting care and feminine kindness, that he 
 tided over the crisis, and gradually and slowly 
 progressed towards recovery. But his brain 
 seemed to have become permanently injured, 
 for though, with returning health, his powers 
 of rational thought, speech, and action came 
 by degrees back to him, bis memory was gone. 
 
 VOL. I. s 
 
258 AVILLIAM BATHURST. 
 
 Of all that portion of his life which preceded 
 his imprisonment he at first hardly retained a 
 trace, and though, from the continually re- 
 peated accounts of Swai-ee, he at length 
 gained a clear notion of what had occurred 
 since their association, his ideas concerning 
 England, his marriage, his former friends, &c., 
 were as vague as the fleeting thought which 
 sometimes passes across our minds that we 
 have somewhere seen a landscape or a face, or 
 heard a remark which we are yet sure that we 
 can never have seen or heard before. As 
 time advanced, these dreamy shadows gathered 
 more thickly and frequently around him, and 
 he would spend hours in thoughtful silence, 
 endeavouring to find some clue to the puzzling 
 vibration which stirred within him at some 
 chance word, look, or action ; in vain, for so 
 strong was the torrent which had swept 
 over his memory, that he could hardly speak 
 his native tongue, while of the other European 
 lano:uai/es which he had learned he retained 
 
WILLIAM BATHURST. 259 
 
 no recollection. In Burmese, however, he 
 could still converse, though why, it is hard to 
 explain — perhaps because he had shrieked and 
 prayed for mercy in it on that fearful night. 
 
 After the lapse of some time, Swai-ee re- 
 moved him to Calcutta, where he himself had 
 business connections, and where he intended 
 to reside for the future. And here, sur- 
 rounded by Englishmen, and having the ad- 
 vantage of good medical treatment, Mr. Cook 
 still further recovered his bodily health, 
 though, of course, his constitution was terribly 
 undermined by his long and cruel imprison- 
 ment. He likewise regained his familiarity 
 with his native language, and his physician 
 was of opinion that he would be immensely 
 benefited, both in mind and body, by return- 
 ing to England ; and upon this advice he de- 
 termined to act. 
 
 In spite of the failure of the Burmese 
 venture, he was by no means a ruined man ; 
 and though, in consequence of his long absence 
 
 s 2 
 
260 WILLIAM BATHURST. 
 
 and supposed death, his afiairs were in great 
 disorder, the Calcutta hiwyer in whose hands 
 they were placed, got them straight at last ; 
 and the sums realized being invested in 
 Indian securities, yielded a handsome income. 
 There was no reason, therefore, why he should 
 not go home at once. 
 
 But as this chapter has taken the bit be- 
 tween its teeth, and bolted years ahead of the 
 action of the story, we must pull it up at once. 
 As Mr. Cook's adventures are quite foreign 
 to the Johnstone and Bathurst proceedings, 
 and have only been thus slightly alluded to 
 for the purpose of showing how it was that 
 the payments to Mr. Johnstone on Minnie's 
 account had ceased, it seemed better to tell 
 all the little I knew about him at once, and so 
 get rid of him. 
 
261 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 THE APRON-STRING REJOINED WITH A KNOT. 
 
 When the intoxication produced by the first 
 draught of liberty and indulgence began to 
 evaporate, William Bathurst found time to 
 reflect, and then he perceived that he was 
 going too fast and too far. It was one thing 
 to establish a certain amount of independence 
 in his relations with his mother, and another 
 to treat her with positive neglect and unkind- 
 ness. He was sober enough now to hear the 
 voice of conscience, and the shrew kept on 
 worry, worry, naggle, naggle, till he began to 
 consider himself a downright brute. Then 
 his thoughts recurred to Mary Johnstone, and 
 
262 WILLIAM BATHURST. 
 
 how probable it was that, if she heard of his 
 late goings on, she would decline having any- 
 thing more to say to him — or, at all events, 
 that her strict and puritanical father would 
 repudiate so dissipated a son-in-law ; and the 
 idea that he might possibly lose her, made 
 him feel more in love with Mary than he had 
 ever done before. Then there was his busi- 
 ness ; he had not been near the office for 
 three days, and had not done any real work 
 for more than a week — facts which, to a man 
 of his previously regular habits, were almost 
 awful to contemplate. It was not that he 
 was in any fear about the examination which 
 he had shortly to pass, though he did imagine 
 it to be about tenfold more difficult than it 
 was, for he had not spent the last few years 
 in that listless performance of a certain routine 
 which characterises the legal studies of too 
 many articled clerks, but had worked really 
 hard, and was, at the present time, no mean 
 proficient in the knowledge of the law. 
 
WILLIAM BATHURST. 263 
 
 But his Uncle Horace had promised to take 
 him so early into partnership, because he 
 believed him to be so exemplary, hard-work- 
 ing, and devoted to his profession, as to be 
 able and willing to take the principal share 
 of the work on himself ; and if he found him 
 falling off in his attendance, and contracting 
 idle habits, he might very likely alter his in- 
 tentions, or, at all events, postpone their ful- 
 filment until his nephew should become more 
 settled. And this postponement would be a 
 serious thing, for Mr. Horace Bathurst was 
 in so failing a state that he could not go on 
 much longer without a partner, and, if 
 William's reception had to be deferred, it was 
 more than probable that Mr. Skinner, the 
 head clerk, by whose industry the business 
 was mainly carried on, would be taken into 
 the firm in his place. 
 
 These numerous considerations worried him 
 so much one morning, that he determined to 
 go to the office directly he had breakfasted. 
 
264 WILLIAM BATHURST. 
 
 do a good day's work, and return to Acton 
 in the evening. Having made which resolu- 
 tion, he felt much more comfortable. 
 
 Whether he would have kept it or not, 
 when the depression caused by over-night 
 excess had been dissipated by the morning 
 meal, taken in Leeson's reckless company, if 
 his good angel had not lent a hand, I cannot 
 say, but such an interposition did take place, 
 and saved the vacillating sinner. 
 
 He found Leeson up and dressed at an 
 earlier hour than usual, and with several 
 letters on the table, which were not bills — 
 which was strange, his accustomed corre- 
 spondence being solely confined to that de- 
 scription of (pipe) -light literature. 
 
 ^' Well, old fellow," he said, as Bathurst 
 entered the room, ^'this is most likely the 
 last meal we shall ever eat together, so I hope 
 you have got a good appetite. Don't look 
 astonished, I have only got that commission 
 in the Austrian cavalry I told you I had 
 
WILLIAM BATHURST. 265 
 
 applied for. That is, I have as good as got 
 it, if I look sharp, only I must be at Vienna 
 as soon as possible. I am thinking of start- 
 ing this afternoon." 
 
 William Bathurst thought at first that his 
 friend was joking ; but when at last persuaded 
 of the earnestness of his purpose, he could 
 not get over the admiring astonishment he 
 felt in contemplating the easy indifference 
 with which he seemed ready to change habits, 
 friends, and country at a moment's notice ; 
 and they had finally separated, and Bathurst 
 was on his way to the city before he could 
 make quite sure that it was not all a 
 dream. 
 
 Skinner, the head clerk, was the only 
 person in the inner office, a florid, robust man, 
 who might be any age between forty-five and 
 sixty, and having the appearance of a gentle- 
 man farmer rather than a lawyer — of a 
 farmer who would catch the points of beast 
 or horse at a glance, but one whom it would 
 
266 WILLIAM BATHURST. 
 
 be difficult to overreach on the Corn Ex- 
 cliange, though. 
 
 *^ Well, Mr. William," said this gentleman, 
 laying down his pen and helping himself to a 
 pinch of snuff, '^ good morning. Why, you 
 are quite a stranger. And that case of 
 Lord Closecopse v. Eightaway, Trespas, and 
 others, coming on so soon, too — oh ! here is a 
 letter for you. I have had as much as I could 
 do — indeed, more, for I have had to put off 
 the consideration of the Selheir will case. 
 However, we will pull up arrears now you 
 have had your holiday, and come back ; but 
 I have had no help lately, for Mr. Horace 
 cannot do much at present, and the articled 
 clerks are of no use, as you know. By-the- 
 bye, your example has proved contagious 
 there, Mr. William — the young gentlemen have 
 not been much more regular in their attend- 
 ance than yourself. Is anything the matter ? 
 — bad news in your letter ? — take a chair ? — 
 have a glass of water ?" 
 
• WILLIAM BATHURST. 267 
 
 ^' When did this letter come ?" William 
 gasped, painfully, directly he could get his 
 breath, for he had turned sick and giddy on 
 reading the few lines Mary had written to 
 him. " This morning — thank heaven ! I 
 Avas afraid — but I must go at once. I cannot 
 stop to-day. Skinner — you will be able to 
 manage ; my mother is ill, and I must return 
 to Acton at once." 
 
 Who has not observed the intensity which 
 all bodily sensations derive from contrast ? A 
 sudden transition from heat to cold, or from 
 cold to heat, causes a temperature which on 
 ordinary occasions would be moderate to ap- 
 pear excessive. It is impossible to realize the 
 full meaning of the word silence, unless the 
 ear has been previously subjected to a loud 
 and long-continued noise ; a subdued light is 
 utter darkness to the eye which a moment 
 before was exposed to the full glare of the 
 sun ; a throb of pain is agony when it thrills 
 through nerves attuned to pleasure ; and the 
 
268 WILLIAM BATHURST. 
 
 sudden cessation of protracted suffering is a 
 positive sensual delight. So is it with 
 mental emotions. Hope breaking upon de- 
 spair, grief upon mirth, are alike almost un- 
 endurable, and it is from the furnace of such 
 trials that the strong mind comes out in- 
 vigorated and purified, the weak sodden and 
 melted. 
 
 What a flood of reproachful thoughts poured 
 over the soul of William Bathurst as he walked 
 rapidly through the streets ! His good, kind 
 mother, who loved him so much, who lived 
 only for him, laid on a bed of sickness while 
 he was revelling. Nay, perhaps his conduct 
 had brought on the attack which might — but 
 no, that thought was too painful, and he 
 strove to dismiss it ; but in vain, it would 
 recur again and again, like the ghastly shape 
 in a fever-dream, and he hastened his steps 
 in the endeavour to escape from himself. 
 
 He arrived at the White Horse Cellar — 
 there was no omnibus for an hour. A whole 
 
WILLIAM BATHURST. 269 
 
 hour, and his mother perhaps counting the 
 minutes for his coming . He couhl not wait 
 there, and, though without the idea of in that 
 way hastening his arrival, he walked on along 
 the Acton Road, intending to let the omnibus 
 overtake him. So confused was he, so de- 
 ficient in presence of mind, that he had 
 passed the fifth milestone before he remem- 
 bered that he might have taken a Hansom 
 and galloped down; and then it was too late — 
 he would lose time by returning ; besides, the 
 omnibus must have started. Then, on pass- 
 ing some familiar object on the road, it 
 occurred to him that he had already traversed 
 the greater part of the way, and that he 
 would probably arrive before the omnibus ; 
 and as he was walking at a great pace this 
 was what actually happened. Now he passed 
 the pond, now the alehouse, and now he was 
 within sight of his home. The blinds were 
 not drawn down, and he breathed more freely ; 
 but there was a carriage at the door, a sus- 
 
270 WILLIAM BATHrRST. 
 
 picious-looking vehicle, close shut, sombre in 
 colour, with a coachman who was reading a 
 journal, like one whose life was spent in wait- 
 ing. What mortal besides a doctor's coach- 
 man could enjoy a thrilling romance while 
 expecting some one to come and interrupt 
 him every moment? 
 
 Have you ever departed from home, leav- 
 ing all there in perfect health, and has the 
 first object which met your eyes on returning 
 been the doctor's brougham ? There are 
 some sights which shake the strongest nerves, 
 and that is one of them. 
 
 William Bathurst, crossing the threshold 
 pale, breathless, disordered, and bathed in 
 perspiration, met Mr. Hinchcliff in the hall. 
 
 ^'Ah!" said the old gentleman, who had 
 assisted the young man whom he addressed to 
 make his first appearance on any stage — ^had 
 attended him in teething, measles, and all the 
 ills which infantile flesh is heir to — who owned 
 him, in short, as a sort of capital, which re- 
 
WILLIAM BATHURST. 271 
 
 turned a fluctuating interest according to the 
 state of his health in the course of the year, 
 ^^ here is the truant ! Here is what will do 
 our patient more good than any amount of 
 physic. Why, William^ have you taken a 
 short cut through the pond on the green ?" 
 
 '' How— how " 
 
 " Better — a great deal better. Do not be 
 alarmed, my dear boy ; no, no danger what- 
 ever. That is, of course, with a person of 
 your mother's age, we must be careful. But 
 compose yourself, and go up to see her. She 
 is up and dressed, and has taken some soup. 
 Why, what a state you are in ! You will find 
 some one else up-stairs, eh ?" 
 
 And poking his forefinger into the other's 
 ribs, Mr. Hinchclifi" darted out of the hall, 
 and took a header into his carriage, breaking 
 John's narrative at a point where the ghost, 
 the heroine, and the dead body were all shut 
 up together in a gloomy passage, the door 
 forming the only entrance to which, and 
 
272 WILLIAM BATHURST. 
 
 capable of being opened from the outside alone, 
 having been just slammed to by a sudden and 
 supernatural gust of wind. But John was 
 used to such contretemps, and knew that his 
 heroine would get out all right at the next 
 patient's. 
 
 William Bathurst, reassured as much by 
 the doctor's cheerful manner as by what he 
 said, went up to his mother's bed-room. Mrs. 
 Bathurst was up and dressed, and sitting at a 
 little table by the window. Her appearance, 
 with the exception of a certain blueness about 
 the lips, was much the same as usual — but she 
 must have felt very weak, as she was leaning 
 hack in her chair ! Mary Johnstone was sit- 
 ting on the other side of the table. She felt 
 vexed with William, and intended to let him 
 know that fact by her reception of him, and 
 so she rose for the purpose of gliding past him 
 out of the room, with the gravest of recogni- 
 tions ; but he looked so woe-begone and re- 
 pentant, that her heart relented, and she 
 
WILLIAM BATHURST. 273 
 
 paused, took his proffered hand, and then 
 quietly left mother and son together. 
 
 ^' And you have been ill, and I stayed 
 away ! I only heard of it this morning, and 
 I came at once. I have walked from London. 
 Thank God, you are better ! To think that 
 there was a sort of estrangement between us 
 when we parted I" 
 
 Such were the broken sentences which Wil- 
 liam poured out ; but his look and manner 
 were more eloquent than his tongue. Besides, 
 the mere fact of his being present there, at 
 her side, holding her hands, was enough for 
 his mother, who cannot be said so much to 
 have forgiven him as to have lost the sense of 
 there being anything to forgive. 
 
 " What a dear good girl Mary is !" said 
 Mrs. Bathurst, when they were both calm 
 again. *^ She has been constantly here dur- 
 ing this attack." 
 
 '^ Where I ought to have been !" exclaimed 
 William. 
 
 VOL. I. T 
 
274 WILLIAM BATHURST. 
 
 " Hush ! You did not know that I was 
 unwell, or you would been by my side. But 
 call Mary in, she has been waiting outside for 
 some time." 
 
 William hastened to execute this request, 
 but Mary had gone home. 
 
 In a few days Mrs. Bathurst was up and 
 about as usual, and William had relapsed into 
 the old ^tyle of life. The room he had taken 
 in London was given up, the billiard-table 
 knew him no more. Leeson had disappeared 
 once more into space, like an erratic comet 
 as he was ; Skinner, the head clerk at the 
 office, was no longer oppressed with the entire 
 weight of the business, and heart-sick clients 
 were not put off more than tlie meddler with 
 the law has a fair riglit to expect. For Wil- 
 liam threw himself into his work with all the 
 energy of repentance ; and the nine o'clock 
 omnibus never failed now to find him in the 
 road awaiting it, while the return omnibus, 
 leaving Piccadilly at live, often had to wait 
 
WILLIAM BATHURST. 275 
 
 while be ran up only just in time to catch it, 
 breathless and laden with parchments for 
 perusal in the evening. 
 
 What was more, be did not sigh after the 
 pleasures he bad tasted and so soon relin- 
 quished ; but this it must be owned was partly 
 in consequence of his having to work so hard 
 to make up the arrears of business, that he had 
 no time to think of much else, and partly be- 
 cause a change in his life was becoming im- 
 minent. 
 
 For, on the third morning after the knotting 
 of the broken apron string, Mrs. Bathurst 
 called upon Mrs. Johnstone, and urged the 
 propriety of a time for the marriage of their 
 children being definitely fixed. 
 
 ^'I am getting old," she said; ''I am afflicted 
 with a mortal disease. This last seizure was 
 a warning which it would be presumptuous to 
 neglect, and I shall not feel comfortable until 
 I see AVilliam settled with a good, affectionate, 
 and God-fearing wife, whose influence will keep 
 
 t2 
 
276 WILLIAM BATHURST. 
 
 him in the right way when mine is withdrawn 
 — it may be quickly and suddenly, by the 
 hand of death." 
 
 ^^ I am well aware of the advantages of the 
 match to Mary," replied Mrs. Johnstone. 
 *' The young people love each other, and it is 
 my dearest wish that the marriage should take 
 place. Still, they are young yet, and I hope 
 and trust that you have many years of life 
 before you." 
 
 Mrs. Bathurst shook her head. 
 
 " I know that is not the case," she replied ; 
 ''' and, besides, I have learned from recent ex- 
 perience that tlie authority of a mother is 
 galling to a young man, while the influence of 
 a wife is a different thing altogether." 
 
 ^^ Well," said Mrs. Johnstone with a sigh, 
 '' it will not do to be selfish, so let it be as 
 you will, though I own that it will be a dread- 
 ful blank to me when Mary is gone. She is 
 my only companion — and now that this sad 
 quarrel has arisen between my son and bus- 
 
AVILLIAM BATHURST. "1 i i 
 
 band, I have no one but her to weep and talk 
 about it with." 
 
 " Then Mr. Johnstone and Harry are not 
 reconciled yet?" 
 
 " I fear they never will be ! My husband 
 declares he will not allow Harry a single 
 penny if he insists upon marrying Minnie, and 
 how the poor boy is to live I cannot imagine ; 
 it is little indeed that I can do for him, for 
 Mr. Johnstone does not allow me much for 
 housekeeping and pin-money." 
 
 '^ It will all come right in time," said 
 Mrs. Bathurst, soothingly. ^' So good and 
 Christian a man as Mr. Johnstone must 
 forgive his son when his anger has passed 
 away." 
 
 Mrs. Johnstone shook her head and sighed. 
 If people chose to think better of her husband 
 than he deserved, it was not for her to un- 
 deceive them. 
 
 And so it was settled between the two 
 mothers that their children should be speedily 
 
278 WILLIAM BATHURST. 
 
 married, and there was nobody to forbid the 
 banns. Mr. Johnstone was delighted, and 
 made a liberal offer of his blessing, and a 
 dowry of three thousand pounds — tlie latter 
 to be left, however, in his business, at five per 
 cent. He also took the opportunity of draw- 
 ing a comparison between the prospects of his 
 two children — of asserting that it was sharper 
 than a serpent's tooth to have a thankless 
 child, and of expressing his gratitude that his 
 daughter, at all events, was all that could be 
 wished. Mary got up a few blushes, and was 
 quite willing to acquiesce in any arrange- 
 ments her parents might make ; and William 
 was absurd. 
 
279 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 IN WHICH ALMA MATER WEANS A CHILD TREMA- 
 TURELY. 
 
 There were only four men up — Alexander, 
 who was supposed bv his friends to be in 
 Germany or Switzerland, but who, having 
 dropped the supplies for his journeyings in 
 the territory of the Duke of Baden, had been 
 driven back to his college harbour ; Tankerd, 
 who affirmed that there was no beer fit to 
 drink out of Oxford, and found it impossible 
 to tear himself away from his favourite tap ; 
 and Eoots and Sapper, who were ambitious of 
 scholarships and double-firsts, and found no 
 place so suitable for hard reading as the 
 university, during the long vacation. 
 
280 WILLIAM BATHURST. 
 
 The entrance of Harry Johnstone into the 
 dining-hall struck this quartet with unmiti- 
 gated astonishment. 
 
 ^^ Why, Johnstone, is that you ?" 
 '' Are you in the body, or spiritual ?" 
 " What on earth brings you here ?" 
 ^^ Where the deuce have you come from ?" 
 " Is it love ? — or debt ? Are you hiding 
 from the pursuit of justice ?" 
 
 " Come and wine with me after hall," 
 Harry replied to all these queries, ^' and I 
 will endeavour to answer you." 
 
 Dinner over, they all repaired accordingly 
 to the rooms of the new-comer, who opened a 
 cupboard, and produced a number of wine- 
 glasses, and then, lifting up tlie sill of his 
 window-seat, plunged his arm into the box 
 which formed his cellar. 
 
 ^' Two, four, six, eight ; why, by Jove ! 
 my scout has left me ten bottles out of a 
 dozen and a half. And there are pessimists 
 who say that there is no honesty in the world! 
 
WILLIAM BATHURST. 281 
 
 Can anyone find the corkscrew ? Thank you. 
 Now, then, be seated, and help yourselves. 
 In reply to your kind inquiries, I may state 
 that it is I ; I am corporeal; the age of twenty- 
 one, and the intention of leaving at once, 
 bring me here ; I come from McGregor's moor ; 
 everybody is in love, of course, but I am not 
 in debt, and at present I have kept, I believe, 
 within the pale of the law. Your healths." 
 
 ^' Going to leave ?'' 
 
 "Yes; I am ruined, and must earn my 
 bread somehow. How convenient it would be 
 if the converse of the Curse held good, and 
 one could always secure a dinner by profuse 
 perspiration of the forehead. One might spend 
 a very jolly time in going perpetually down 
 the river in an eight. But the difficulty is to 
 perspire judiciously. Does any one of you 
 want a light porter ?" 
 
 " My dear fellow, you are joking, of 
 course ?" 
 
 *' Not a bit, as far as the main facts go. I 
 
282 WILLIAM BATHURST. 
 
 am positively ruined, and in want of a situa- 
 tion of some sort ; if there were no one de- 
 pendent upon me I think I should enlist — as 
 it is, I should like to get a clerk's place some- 
 Avhere. There are no Tufts up, I suppose, or 
 I would have a quiet toady, and see what 
 that would do ? I say, Tankerd, you are 
 connected with a brewery, are you not ?" 
 
 *^ Yes, my father is a partner in one." said 
 Tankerd ; ** but all the clerks in the affair 
 have capital invested in it — that is a rule, I 
 know. If you have a little capital — three or 
 four thousand is enough, I believe — I will 
 speak to the governor for you, and do my 
 best — I will indeed, old fellow !" 
 
 *^Thank'ee, my dear Tankerd, all the same, 
 but I have not got a twentieth part of the sum 
 \ou mention." 
 
 '* I have no ready, and cannot therefore 
 offer you a loan," said Alexander. ^* But if 
 my name at the back of a bill would be of any 
 use " 
 
WILLIAM BATHURST. 283 
 
 *^ Not much, I fear, my dear fellow. At 
 the best, it would only add to your liabilities, 
 for / could not meet it." 
 
 " Well," said Koots, " I must say, John- 
 stone, that you bear your reverses with sur- 
 prising cheerfulness. I hope all the members 
 of your family are equally philosophical." 
 
 " Heavens !" cried Harry, '^ I forgot that 
 my father was in business, and that my an- 
 nouncement would reflect upon him. I must 
 be more explicit, and bore you with the in- 
 formation that my misfortunes are entirely 
 personal, and do not affect the remainder of 
 my people. My father wants me to relin- 
 quish a project on which I have set my heart, 
 and naturallv declines to maintain me while I 
 remain in opposition to his will. As 1 did 
 not consider it right finally to assert my inde- 
 pendence while I was a minor, I went to stay 
 with McGregor directly after the first out- 
 break of hostilities, and remained there shoot- 
 ing grouse until my twenty-first birthday 
 
284 WILLIAM BATHURST. 
 
 arrived, a week ago. I then made a final 
 appeal to my father, received his ultimatum, 
 which was unfavourable to my views, and 
 here I am. Having been hitherto entirely 
 dependent upon my allowance from him, and 
 being therefore thrown on my own resources 
 somewhat suddenly, I, of course, cannot re- 
 main at college. Learned leisure and the 
 tardy professions are not for one with whom 
 waiting is a word synonymous with starving. 
 I take my name off the boards to-morrow. '' 
 
 " But, I say, you know," said Tankerd, 
 '^ is not this rather a serious thing, you 
 know?" 
 
 " To me it is so, most certainly." 
 
 " Because you seem rather jolly about it 
 than otherwise. I know 1 feel awfully sorry 
 that a good fellow like you should go off like 
 this. Hang me if I see any joke in it at 
 all !" 
 
 ** Thank you, old boy," cried Harry. 
 " ' What can't be cured must be endured ' is 
 
TVILLIAM BATHURST. 285 
 
 the best proverb in the language. Where is 
 the iv'isdom of weakening one's energies by 
 fretting at the very time one wants them in 
 the best working order ? But you must not 
 think that I feel no regret at quitting the old 
 place so abruptly. While I live, I shall never 
 forget this dear old quad, or the friends who 
 inhabited it. Perhaps the next quad I reside 
 in, will be spelt with an 0, for if honest em- 
 ployment fails me, I am thinking of reviving 
 the ancient and honourable order of ' gentle- 
 men of the road ;' the audacity of the thing 
 might make it successful for a time. How- 
 ever, we will give the best policy the first trial.'' 
 It was evident that Harry Johnstone was 
 talking nonsense to keep up his spirits ; so 
 the others made no further attempt to balk 
 him, but fell into the same humour, and built 
 a thousand absurd and airy castles for his 
 future habitation. The honest young fellows 
 were sorry at heart all the time though, 
 and felt a relief when the party broke up. 
 
286 WILLIAM BATHURST. 
 
 When they were all gone, and he was once 
 more alone, Harry threw himself into a chair 
 and fell into a painful reverie. He had hoped 
 that his father would cool down and relent, so 
 far as to let matters go on as they had done 
 for another year, by which time Harry would 
 have taken his degree, and had more oppor- 
 tunity for looking about him. But no ; Mr. 
 Johnstone was firm, and all he had to do was 
 to cast about for some employment which 
 ■would enable Minnie and himself to live. He 
 could not write directly to Minnie, all whose 
 letters were opened by her schoolmistress, but 
 he sent innumerable veiled messages through 
 Mary, who corresponded copiously with her 
 friend, and received information of all Clifton 
 proceedings through the same source. Now 
 and then, indeed, for a treat, he got a letter 
 from Minnie herself, who occasionally numaged 
 to slip one into the post-office unperceived 
 l)y Miss Stifton — but such opportunities were 
 rare. 
 
WILLIAM BATHURST. 287 
 
 While Harry was thus absorbed in his re- 
 flections, he was aroused by a knock at the 
 door. 
 
 '^ Who is there ?" cried he. 
 
 ^' It is I— Roots." 
 
 ^^ All right!" 
 
 And Harry opened the sporting door and 
 admitted him. 
 
 '^ I have come back," said Roots, '' to 
 mention a matter which I did not like to 
 speak of before the other fellows. I do not 
 quite know how far you were joking this even- 
 ing. Are you really looking out for a clerk- 
 ship in an office ?" 
 
 ^'Most certainly and seriously I should be 
 delighted to get such a thing," replied Harry. 
 
 " Well, then," continued Roots, ^' I do not 
 know, mind, that he can do anything, but my 
 father is a director of the Original Fire and 
 Life Assurance Company, and if he can help 
 you, I am sure he will. It is a poor 
 chance ; there may not be a vacancy in the 
 
288 WILLIAM BATHURST. 
 
 office, and if there is, my father may not have 
 the power of getting it for you, and it will not 
 be worth much if he has. But he is a city 
 man, and may be able to put you in the way 
 of trying for something else ; at any rate, if 
 you like to call upon him, I will give you a 
 letter of introduction, and write besides by to- 
 morrow morning's post." 
 
 ^' My dear fellow," said Harry, griping the 
 other's hand, " I do not know how to thank 
 you ; whether Mr. Roots can do anything for 
 me or no, the recollection of this kindness will 
 cheer me up for many a long day." 
 
 " Don't mention it — I wish I could be of 
 any real use." 
 
 " So you are. Why, an introduction to a 
 man of business, and some idea of what to 
 apply for and how to apply for it, were the 
 very things I was at a loss for. You have 
 given me the end of the clue ; trust me for 
 the rest. Even if nothing else comes of your 
 kindness, it will secure me a good sleep to- 
 
 \ 
 
WILLIAM BATHURST. 289 
 
 night, and that is something. Once more, 
 thank you. Roots !" 
 
 On the following day, Harry settled every- 
 thing he had to do at Oxford, and found him- 
 self the possessor of one hundred and twenty 
 pounds ; a very strange fact this will seem to 
 any reader who is or has been an under- 
 graduate, but Harry happened to combine a 
 horror of ticks with a love of knick-knacks, 
 and some of his little elegancies — his dressing- 
 case, liqueur-stand, cigar-table, &c. — sold for 
 more than half of what he gave for them. 
 
 The men who had been at his rooms the 
 night before, together with some old friends 
 of other colleges who happened to be up, gave 
 him a farewell dinner that evening, and drank 
 his health with a feeling which was not all 
 vinous ; and, on the following morning, he 
 took his final departure from Oxford, with a 
 heart heavy but not despairing, and Eoots's 
 promised letter in his pocket. 
 
 Being determined to enter at once upon the 
 
 VOL. I. u 
 
290 WILLIAM BATHURST. 
 
 course of economy and self-denial which he 
 had mapped out for his future life, he would 
 not go to an hotel for a single night, but, book- 
 ing his luggage at the station, started off on 
 foot to find a lodging, and finally engaged a 
 bed-room, clean but lofty, in one of the quiet 
 streets which meander around Hanover Square, 
 for which, with the use of a general room in 
 which he might breakfast, he agreed to pay 
 thirteen shillings a week, boot-cleaning and 
 all included ; while the charge for breakfast, 
 if he chose to take that meal in the house, was 
 to be five shillings a week. 
 
 Cheered by the discovery of how small an 
 income a man might thus live upon, Harry 
 Johnstone next turned his steps towards 
 Hungerford Bridge, and, true to his econo- 
 mical resolutions, took a penny boat to the 
 City, and pursuing his way to Broad Street, 
 passed along that gold-paved thoroughfare 
 with his eyes on the doorposts, until he came 
 to the names of ^^ Roots and Stump." 
 
WILLIAM BATHURST. 291 
 
 A clerk in the outer office saying yes to his 
 inquiry whether Mr. Roots was in, he gave 
 hira his card and letter of introduction, and 
 was almost immediately ushered into the pre- 
 sence of a gentleman with untidy hair, bushy 
 eyebrows, mutton chop whiskers (grey all 
 this), portly figure, and a rare orchid in his 
 buttonhole. 
 
 " Mr. Johnstone ?" said Mr. Roots, shaking 
 hands. " Pray take a seat. My son advises 
 me that you are his friend — that, in conse- 
 quence of unexpected reverses, you are obliged 
 to leave Oxford suddenly, and that you are 
 looking out for a situation as clerk to some 
 office or another. Is that the case ?" 
 
 '' Exactly, Mr. Roots." 
 
 '^ Well, sir, my son is a good lad, a very 
 good, industrious lad, and it would give me 
 great pleasure to serve any friend of his if I 
 had the means of so doing. I will also say 
 that I am inclined to help a young man who 
 seems inclined to put his shoulder to the 
 
 u 2 
 
292 WILLIAM BATHURST. 
 
 wheel at the first brunt of misfortune, instead 
 of throwing himself upon the charity of his 
 friends, in a stunned sort of manner. It is 
 not every youth, either, who can at once make 
 up his mind to descend a round or two on the 
 social ladder. In short, I was thinking what 
 could be done when you came in. There is 
 a vacant clerkship in the Original, of which I 
 am a director, and I will speak to the other 
 members of the Board, and try to gain their 
 votes, if you like to apply for it." 
 
 '^ A thousand thanks for your kindness, 
 sir," exclaimed Harry. ^' I should think I 
 would like to apply for it !" 
 
 ^' Well, but hear what it is worth first. 
 You will only get ninety pounds the first 
 year, with a rise of ten pounds per annum till 
 you get to a hundred and fifty; and there you 
 stick until you are promoted to the higher 
 salaries, by the death or retirement of the 
 holders of them." 
 
 *^ It is quite as much " 
 
WILLIAM BATHURST. 293 
 
 *^ Stop a bit. In addition to your regular 
 salary you will receive ten per cent, upon the 
 first premium paid up of every insurance you 
 bring into the business, and five per cent, per 
 annum upon every future payment until it 
 lapses — so that the more friends you can get 
 to insure their lives with us, the larger will 
 be your income. Some of our clerks double 
 their pay in this manner." 
 
 " I do not know whether I should be able 
 to do that," said Harry. ''But I shall 
 esteem myself most fortunate if I get the 
 chance of trying." 
 
 *' Very well, then. What sort of hand do 
 you write ?" 
 
 '' Copper-plate I" 
 
 " You had better send me a sample," said 
 Mr. Roots, unable to help smiling. " Are 
 you an equally good accountant ?" 
 
 " Yes, I have learned double entry ; is it 
 not fortunate ?" 
 
 *' It is, indeed ; boys ought always to be 
 
294 WILLIAM BATIIURST. 
 
 taught it, ill case of accidents, and yet they 
 seldom are. Well, the Board meets next 
 Wednesday, and if you will call upon me here 
 on Thursday morning, I will tell you whether 
 I can promise that you will get the clerkship 
 or no. You are in good time, for the out- 
 going clerk only sent in word of his intended 
 resignation yesterday, and he does not go for 
 three weeks. By-the-bye, just look over the 
 list of directors, and see whether you know any 
 of them." 
 
 ^' No,'^ replied Harry, reading over the 
 names. *^ I do not see any one here whom I 
 know, except the solicitor of the office, Mr. 
 Bathurst." 
 
 ^' Horace Bathurst ! do you know him ?" 
 exclaimed Mr. Boots. ^* Call upon him at 
 once, and secure his interest ; he has as much 
 influence in the affairs of the Company as the 
 chairman and any two directors rolled to- 
 gether. Good afternoon till Thursday." 
 
 Harry Johnstone tendered his thanks once 
 
WILLIAM BATHURST. 295 
 
 more, and wended his way out of the City 
 rejoicinp:, determined to look up Mr. Horace 
 Bathurst early on the following morning, be- 
 fore he should have started for his office. 
 Then he turned his thoughts towards a piece 
 of business which he began to feel to be of 
 })eculiar, nay, pressing, importance — dinner. 
 He determined to try a different house every 
 day, until he discovered the establishment 
 where the best possible chop, steak, and 
 porter was to be obtained at the cheapest 
 rate — for he had quite given up the idea of 
 dining at the club of which he Avas a member, 
 or, indeed, of continuinp^ his subscription 
 when it had once lapsed ; and was just about 
 to commence his investi<?ations bv enterinoj a 
 well-known chop-house near Temple Bar, 
 when a sudden thought stopped him. 
 
 He seemed to be in luck that day — why 
 not pursue his vein, and seek out Mr. Bath- 
 urst at once? That gentleman's interest 
 for the clerkship about to fall vacant might 
 
296 AVILLIAM BATHURST. 
 
 be secured for another that very evening. 
 It was five o'clock now, and he would pro- 
 bably be returning home. And so Harry 
 deferred his dinner, and turned his face west- 
 wards again. Mr. Horace Bathurst lived in 
 Portland Place, not very far from the street 
 where Harry had his lodgings ; and, at the 
 Oxford Street crossing, whom should the 
 latter overtake but the very man he was 
 about to call on. 
 
 '' Mr. Harry Johnstone !" cried the old 
 gentleman, holding out his hand. ^^ What a 
 curious coincidence ! Why, you are the very 
 person I was thinking of at the moment. My 
 nephew, William, has been telling me all about 
 your affairs and the occurrences which have 
 taken place at home, and I desired him to 
 find out your present address, that I might 
 write and request you to come and see me, for 
 I want to have a little conversation with you." 
 
 '' I was on my way to call on you just 
 now," said Harry. 
 
WILLIAM BATHURST. 297 
 
 " Ah ! you have met William, then ?" 
 
 ^' No, sir ; it was my own idea. You are 
 solicitor to the Original Fire and Life Office, 
 and I want your assistance to get a clerkship 
 which will soon fall vacant there." 
 
 " I'll do my best/' said the other, thought- 
 fully ; ^^ and I think we can secure that. It 
 is a pity, though, with your education and 
 advantages, that you should not get something 
 better. But what is the use of saying that, 
 when I do not know how otherwise to advise 
 you ? Here is my house — come in, you will 
 dine with me, of course ? My housekeeper 
 always provides dinner on the principle of 
 * enough for one, enough for two.' Oh, Mrs. 
 Scott, a friend is going to dine with me to- 
 day ; we can give him a bit of fish and a slice 
 of mutton — can we not ?" 
 
 ** Oh, yes, sir !" replied a buxom, good- 
 tempered-looking dame, dropping the most 
 respectable of curtsies at the new-comer. 
 
 The "bit of fish, and slice of mutton" 
 
208 AVILLIAM BATHURST. 
 
 evolved itself into a highly recherche little 
 dinner, to which the younger man did ample 
 justice, though the other had apparently 
 but little appetite. 
 
 '* What wine will you have ?" said the host 
 when the cloth was removed ; ^^port, claret, 
 or Madeira ? Never mind me, but help your- 
 self — I am dieted, unfortunately." 
 
 ^^ I am sorry to hear that, sir," said Harry. 
 " I hope it is nothing serious ?" 
 
 He had noticed that the old gentleman 
 seemed to be much more infirm than when he 
 had last seen him. 
 
 ^' The most serious complaint that man can 
 have," returned Mr. Horace, smiling ; '•' and 
 one he is sure to die of, if nothing else cuts 
 short his career — old age. The machine is 
 wearing out, and a very little puts the works 
 out of order ; it has been rather more cranky 
 than usual lately, and yesterday was the first 
 time for some weeks that I have been able to 
 take it down to the City to attend to its 
 
WILLIAM BATHURST. 299 
 
 business. However, it is going again now, 
 and I hope to be able to look after this matter 
 for you. I will send a line this evening, by- 
 the-bye, to Mr. Roots, one of the most in- 
 fluential directors " 
 
 " I have already secured him," interrupted 
 Harry. ** His son is a friend of mine, and 
 was the first to put me up to trying for the 
 clerkship." 
 
 " That is all right, then," said Mr. Bathurst. 
 ^' With him to help you, you are pretty safe. 
 But now about this business with your father; 
 it is a sad affair, as I understand it from 
 William ; a complete rupture ; and your leav- 
 ing Oxford, and seeking this employment so 
 suddenly, looks as if he had not exagge- 
 rated." 
 
 ^' It is indeed a serious thing for a son to 
 become estranged from his parent," replied 
 Harry ; '^ and nobody can feel that more 
 keenly, or with deeper regret, than my- 
 self." 
 
300 WILLIAM BAXnURST. 
 
 And then, at the other's request, he went 
 into a full detail of all the circumstances of 
 the case. 
 
 " William's account, then, was accurate," 
 said Mr. Horace, when the other had con- 
 cluded ; " and I really cannot bring myself 
 to blame you. Many people, I am aware, 
 would consider that your feelings and engage- 
 ments with respect to Miss Cook are of no 
 account, in comparison with the duty you owe 
 your father ; but poor Cook was one of my 
 oldest and dearest friends, and I am prejudiced 
 by the interest I feel in his daughter. And 
 now what are your plans ? You need not 
 fear taking me into your confidence, and I may 
 be able to aid you with a suggestion." 
 
 '^ Minnie," replied Harry, ^^ is at school at 
 Clifton. My intention is, so soon as I have 
 secured the means of living, and a small lodg- 
 ing, to go down there, run off with her to 
 Scotland, and marry her." 
 
 **Your salary will be ninety pounds the 
 
WILLIAM BATHURST. 301 
 
 first year. Do you mean to say that you can 
 keep your wife upon that ?'' 
 
 '^ ]\Iy mother thinks that she will be able 
 to send me at least fifty pounds in the course 
 of the year, and I may be able to increase my 
 income by getting friends to insure in the 
 office. Then my salary will be more next 
 year, and Minnie has two thousand pounds, 
 which my father must give up when she is of 
 age, even if he detains it till then, which I am 
 pretty certain he will not do ; and the inte- 
 rest upon that will be upwards of sixty at 
 the present price of consols. For of course I 
 shall put that in the funds — it will be all she 
 will have to fall back upon, if anything should 
 happen to me, poor girl ! Altogether, we 
 shall be able to manage to get shelter, bread, 
 meat, and beer, with a trip to Eichmond or 
 Hampstead on fine Sundays. What more 
 can an office clerk look for? And Minnie 
 will be happier so than as a governess, a 
 position for which she is utterly unfitted. '^ 
 
802 WILLIAM BATHURST. 
 
 '^ And if you have a family ?" 
 
 " Ah ! that is the worst of it. I know that 
 we are not going into a bed of roses ; this is 
 no romantic, hairbrained, foolish match — for 
 much as I love Minnie, I had rather wait a 
 few years, till we could marry with comfort 
 and prudence. But you see she has no other 
 protector, poor girl !" 
 
 '^ I tell you what, you are a fine-hearted 
 fellow, Harry, and there are not many others 
 like you. Many a man would risk his life 
 for the girl he lo\es — but give up fortune ? — 
 lose position ? No. You must add about 
 one hundred pounds a year to your estimate 
 of income, however, as I shall request you 
 upon your marriage to accept some shares I 
 have in the Original, the interest upon which 
 will be about that. Not a word ! I am a 
 childless man, and I should be miserable if I 
 did not do something for the orphan girl of 
 my poor lost friend. There is another point 
 — T do not like Scotch marriages." 
 
WILLIAM BATIIURST. o03 
 
 ^' Nor I, sir ; but what else can I do ?" 
 ''Why, there is an old lady living in Mon- 
 mouth who is a cousin of Mr. Cook's. She is 
 an old maid, very eccentric, and my poor 
 friend once offended her, and that is the rea- 
 son why her name has never been mentioned. 
 This Miss Lloyd is a client of mine, and I 
 believe I have more influence over her than 
 any one else has, though that is not saying 
 much. Anyhow, the old girl has a spice of 
 romance in her, and loves a bit of a love- 
 match dearly; and I think, if I make the story 
 interesting enough, she will espouse your 
 cause, and give Minnie hospitality until such 
 time as you can be married from her liouse. 
 And as she is her only relation that I know 
 of, she has certainly as much right over her 
 during her minority as any one else except 
 your father, and I take it his guardianship ivS 
 a very doubtful matter.'' 
 
 '' This is indeed good news, and re- 
 lieves me of a very great difficulty," cried 
 
304 WILLIAM BATHURST. 
 
 Harry. " We can get from Bristol to Mon- 
 mouth so easily too." 
 
 '* You must tutor Minnie to put up with 
 the old lady's ways, which are rather trying," 
 continued Mr. Horace. ^* But there is one 
 more difficulty you must allow me to remove ; 
 there is no carrying on a campaign without the 
 sinews of war, and of these you cannot be very 
 flush. I will sign you a cheque for a hundred 
 pounds now while I think of it, for my memory 
 is not what it was. And now," he continued, 
 suppressing Harry's thanks, ^^you must bid 
 me good night, for my doctor makes me go to 
 bed early. I shall be able to tell you before 
 the meeting of the Board whether you may 
 rely upon getting this clerkship ; and if the 
 answer is favourable, which I hardly doubt, 
 you can proceed to carry off the lady 
 at once. At least, as soon as I hear from 
 Miss Lloyd that she is ready and willing to 
 receive her. If her reply is unfavourable, you 
 can fall back on the oridnal Gretna Green 
 
WILLIAM BATHURST. 305 
 
 plan. I shall be able to let you know in a 
 day or two, for the old lady is punctuality 
 itself, and is sure to reply by return of post." 
 Harry Johnstone felt inclined to go home 
 dancing the polka, but a due regard for 
 public opinion caused him to repress this 
 inclination, and he walked soberly though 
 airily along, with the thumb and forefinger of 
 his right hand in his waistcoat-pocket finger- 
 ing the cheque, for if he withdrew them for 
 a moment, he felt persuaded that the events 
 of the day were but a dream. His landlady, 
 who slept next door to him, heard him spout- 
 ing in the middle of the night : 
 
 " There is a tide in the affairs of men, 
 Which, taken at the flood, leads on to fortune," 
 
 and concluding that her new lodger was a play- 
 actor, soothed herself with visions of future 
 orders. 
 
 END OF THE FIRST VOLUME. 
 VOL. I. X 
 
TTouy 
 
 LEIGHTOK