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 TREG^RTHEN 
 
 VOL. I.
 
 NEW NOVELS AT ALL LIBRARIES. 
 
 A PAINTER'S ROMANCE, and Other Stories. By 
 
 Eleanor Holmes, Author of ' The Price of a Pearl, ' &c. One volume. 6s. 
 
 ERICA'S HUSBAND. By Adeline Sergeant, Author of 
 
 ' Caspar Brooke's Daughter,' ' Sir Anthony,' &c. 2 vols. 
 
 A PAGAN SOUL. By Louis Vintras, Author of ' Lady 
 
 Folly.' One volume. 6s. 
 
 FRIEND OR RIVAL. By Elizabeth Neal, Author of 
 
 ' Coming of Age,' ' My Brother Basil,' &c 2 vols. 
 
 THE SPORT OF STARS. By Algernon Gissing, Author 
 
 of 'A Moorland Idyl,' 'A Village Hampden,' «S;c. 2 vols. 
 
 LONDON: HURST & BLACKETT, LIMITED.
 
 TREGARTH EN 
 
 BY 
 
 G. NORWAY 
 
 IN THREE VOLUMES, 
 VOL. l. 
 
 LONDON : 
 
 HURST AND BLACKETT, LIMITED, 
 
 13, GREAT iMARLBOROUGH STREET. 
 
 1896. 
 
 All Rights Reserved.
 
 
 o 
 
 CO 
 
 % TREGARTHEN 
 
 00 
 
 >- 
 
 «^ 
 
 ^. CHAPTER I. 
 
 i:) LADIES AT BREAKFAST. 
 
 ' Dear, dear !' said Miss Selby, putting 
 ^ aside the letter which she had been read- 
 l::'^^ ing at the breakfast-table. ' Dear, dear ! 
 C^ whatever will Mrs. Frank do next !' 
 
 ' Why, what is it now ?' asked Miss 
 ^ Letitia, anxiously, and two other sisters 
 laid down tea- cups and toast to sym- 
 pathize. 
 
 ' Well, you know how ill they have all 
 been this winter, and now they have taken 
 VOL. I. r, 
 
 ^
 
 *•! TKEGARTHEN. 
 
 the house at Polzeath for the summer. 
 How they possibly intend to cram them- 
 selves into that, and in what disregard of 
 all propriety they anticipate living, who 
 €an say !' 
 
 ' Mrs. Frank must really be mad,' said 
 the youngest of the ladies. 
 
 ' But I would like to see all the child- 
 ren,' sighed gentle Miss Letitia, who was 
 an invalid, and could never leave home. 
 ^ I never saw more of them than Mabel 
 and Horace, and what lovely children they 
 were!' 
 
 ' Frank says that the two youngest, 
 Stephen and Amanda, are the prettiest of 
 all,' said Miss Rose. 
 
 ' Not the youngest now,' lamented Miss 
 Selby. ' You forget the baby, the " tithe 
 offering," as poor Frank calls her in his 
 absurd way.' 
 
 ' I did forget the poor little thing for a 
 moment. Ten of them! and all living.
 
 TREGARTHEN. 3 
 
 What a misfortune ! Are they all coming 
 to Polzeath, Elizabeth?' 
 
 ' Yes, all. Indeed, I believe that they 
 are there already. So inconsiderate of Mrs. 
 Frank, giving us no time to remonstrate, 
 but coming, hand over head, in this wild 
 way. How people will talk.' 
 
 ' What does Frank say ? Do let me see 
 his letter,' said Miss Rose. 
 
 ' I will read it aloud, so that we may 
 all hear it at once,' replied Miss Selby. 
 ' It is just one of his harum-scarum 
 letters.' 
 
 The letter ran thus : 
 
 ' Dear Sister, 
 
 ' You are likely to see the 
 whole boiling of us soon. Like a swarm 
 of locusts we contemplate alighting upon 
 the dear old neighbourhood, and ravag- 
 ing the land. Mab does not regain her 
 strength at all satisfactorily, and her tithe 
 
 b2
 
 4 TREGAETHEN. 
 
 offering is always squalling. I have 
 painted her white phiz rather successfully, 
 bending down over the brat. She is 
 hanging on the line in Burlington House, 
 where our dear friends, the public, are 
 going cracked about the " Invalid," but it 
 is time for her to give up the pose, now 
 that it has answered the purpose. Half 
 of the chickens have had measles, scarlet 
 fever, and things. Dorothea has grown 
 weedy over them, Felicia looks like a tal- 
 low candle, and Steenie's eyes are as big 
 as moons, while his face is in danger of 
 vanishing altogether. He is of no use at 
 all as a model under these aspects, and 
 the big boys must pick up tone before we 
 launch them upon next year's exam. work. 
 I am afraid to think of our doctor's bills, 
 so we are running away from town before 
 they come in.' 
 
 Here followed a humorous pen and ink 
 sketch of himself and his wife, with a
 
 TREGARTHEN. 5 
 
 procession of boys behind their father, 
 and girls following their mother, like an 
 old family monument ; but each laden 
 with a bundle hung to a stick over the 
 shoulder, running hard towards a neat 
 little map of Cornwall in a corner. 
 
 'We have taken the house at Polzeath, 
 and Mab engages to pack us all in there 
 somehow. She judiciously remarks that 
 it seems to be a locality where sketching 
 abounds, and no dress at all is needed ! 
 So you may expect to see us, in detach- 
 ments, at some early date, in very free 
 and easy guise. Meantime, I am, now 
 and ever, 
 
 ' Your loving brother, 
 
 ' Frank Selby.' 
 
 ' What a rigmarole he writes,' sighed 
 Miss Rose. ' I do hope that Mabel will 
 not be very unconventional. What will 
 people say if she does anything too wild.'
 
 6 TREGARTHEN. 
 
 ' Do you remember the time when, you 
 and I went to stay with them, Letitia, 
 when Horace was the baby?' asked Miss 
 Selby, lifting up mittened hands, in horror 
 at the thought. 
 
 ' Yes, eighteen years ago ! I could go 
 about then,' sighed Miss Letitia. 
 
 ' I have often told you, sisters,' said 
 Miss Selby, ' of the extraordinary things 
 which they did then.' 
 
 ' Do you remember the day, — a Sunday 
 too, — on which they made an exhibition 
 of Frank's pictures before they went to 
 the different galleries?' asked Miss 
 Letitia. 
 
 ' Yes ! Mrs. Frank trimmed up a table 
 with fringe ripped off her best winter 
 gown, and spread a lace pocket-handker- 
 chief over the top, under a brown jug of 
 daffodils ! A common jug of cloam, from 
 the kitchen, sisters !' 
 
 ' It really looked very pretty, though,"
 
 TREGARTHEN. 7 
 
 said Miss Letitia, ' and the lace and fringe 
 were none the worse.' 
 
 ' How silly you are, Letitia ! None the 
 worse, indeed ! I believe you would 
 actually encourage them in their follies if 
 you were able to go there much. Perhaps 
 you approved of Mabel's putting her 
 wedding veil over the arm-chair, to hide 
 the mark of Frank's head, and tying it up 
 with his red silk neck-tie !' 
 
 ' I don't know. I only thought of how 
 often his poor dear head must have been 
 tired to have left such a mark upon the 
 chintz in little over a year,' sighed the 
 more sympathetic lady, unheard among the 
 indio-nation of one sister, and the lauo^hter 
 of another. 
 
 ' She actually dressed up the lay figure 
 in our mother's white Indian shawl, which 
 we thought so much of giving to her, and 
 Frank went into ecstacies over what he 
 called the grace of its folds !'
 
 8 TREGARTHEN. 
 
 ' Poor dear ! I remember it well : She 
 pinned it up into Greek drapery, so cleverly ; 
 and, just as some very fine people were 
 coming up the stairs, Frank dropped a 
 filthy huge rag, all daubed with paint, 
 upon the pedestal where it stood, exactly 
 in sight. I can see her now, turning pink 
 up to the roots of her pretty hair, as she 
 caught it up, and hid it beneath the skirt 
 of the figure. A little corner of it peeped 
 out after all, and what a story Frank made 
 of it at the supper to his young artist 
 friends when all was over ! How they 
 roared with laughter when he undid the 
 red neck-tie, and betrayed all her con- 
 trivances !' 
 
 ' Such a scene as it was !' pursued Miss 
 Selby. ' Half of the young men were 
 smoking; and some drew caricatures of the 
 whole ; and Mabel gave them nothing for 
 supper but toasted cheese and ale ; and 
 not one of them wore evening dress, though
 
 TREGARTHEN. » 
 
 we were three ladies present ! But that 
 was not the worst!' 
 
 Miss Selby sank her voice to a whisper. 
 
 ' Frank, actually^ brought little Horace 
 in, to show to Sir Frederic and Lady 
 Clarinda Mowbray, with nothing on him 
 but his little shirt ! Nothing more,' repeat- 
 ed she, emphatically ; ' and there was that 
 beautiful embroidered frock which we all 
 took such pains to work, and the new blue 
 sash and shoes we bought, never put on 
 at all ! Nothing on but a shirt ! And he 
 called Lady Clarinda's attention to the 
 dimples on the baby's legs ! Such in- 
 delicacy !' 
 
 ' But Sir Frederic gave dear Frank an 
 order to paint him a picture of the child 
 just like that,' murmured Miss Letitia, 
 • and paid him twenty pounds for it. And 
 a sweet pretty thing it was, too.' 
 
 Miss Selby was too full of her woful 
 experiences to heed.
 
 10 TREGARTHEN. 
 
 ' And when I spoke to him seriously 
 about the indelicacy and impropriety of 
 his conduct, pointing out to him, with all 
 kindness as his eldest sister, that no one 
 would think well of him, even as an artist, 
 for scorning the simple rules of refinement 
 and delicacy, he would only laugh, and 
 say that Lady Clarinda would give her 
 best bonnet for such a baby as that ! I 
 gave him up from that moment. His 
 house was no place for me^ and I have 
 never been in it since.' 
 
 'And Frank has never brought his wife 
 here since that unfortunate visit when 
 May was the baby!' said Miss Rose. ' I 
 hope all will go off more pleasantly this 
 time.' 
 
 ' I hope he will create no such scandal 
 here,' said Miss Selby. ' London is a 
 dreadful place. People may not mind 
 such things there, but what would our 
 neighbours think here!'
 
 TREGARTHEN. 11 
 
 ' Here ' was a small country town, in 
 the near vicinity to which was a particu- 
 larly fine place called ' Treojarthen,' the 
 seat of the Grenfell family. Sir Theophilus 
 and Lady Sarah Grenfell were far too 
 grand to visit in this town. The utmost 
 condescension which her ladyship showed 
 was in consenting to patronize a ball or a 
 bazaar now and then ; but even this gave 
 an air of aristocracy to the place, and 
 caused its humbler inhabitants to consider 
 themselves more ' genteel ' than those of 
 less favoured localities. 
 
 One exception, and one only, did these 
 exalted personages make. The Misses 
 Selby, daughters of a former clergyman of 
 Tregarthen, lived in a pretty cottage not 
 far from the entrance gates of the Tre- 
 garthen park. They were descendants of 
 a good and much respected family, and Sir 
 Theophilus had enlarged and decorated 
 their house, given them the privilege of
 
 12 TREGAETHEN. 
 
 using his plantations, into which he made 
 them a private pathway, and treated them 
 in every way as privileged people. 
 
 Lady Sarah did yet more. Miss Rose 
 Selby was her intimate friend, her 
 almoner, her resource in all her small 
 difficulties, and the pleasant companion 
 of all her dull days. 
 
 This gave the sisters much importance 
 among their limited acquaintances, and, 
 never having lived anywhere but in this 
 parish of Withiel, they naturally con- 
 sidered no family could be grander than 
 that of Tregarthen, no affairs of greater 
 consequence in the world, and its verdict 
 one beyond which was no appeal. 
 
 The rector who had succeeded their 
 father was an old bachelor ; and no ladies 
 resided very near to them of position 
 sufficient to share in their consequence. 
 Sir Theophilus objected to selling a rood 
 of his land for building purposes. New
 
 TREGARTHEN. 13 
 
 people were anathema maranafha to him ; 
 his conservative character was opposed to 
 all change. 
 
 Bitter had been the trouble to the 
 Misses Selby when their only brother, the 
 youngest and most beloved child of their 
 honoured father, gave up all intention of 
 becoming a clergyman, for which profes- 
 sion he was being educated ; and, when Dr. 
 Selby's death put him into possession of 
 his small fortune, devoted himself to art. 
 That real genius and steady hard work 
 had achieved a success which justified 
 him in this course, did not make much 
 difference in his sisters' eyes. They lived 
 too much out of the world to estimate his 
 reputation justly ; and he was always 
 ' Poor Frank ' to them. 
 
 ' Poor Frank ' might have married well. 
 He was extremely good-looking, and pos- 
 sessed of a happy geniality of manner and 
 disposition which made him a general
 
 14 TREGARTHEN. . 
 
 favourite. A lady of family and consider- 
 able fortune would, it was tolerably cer- 
 tain, at one time, have forgiven his palette 
 and mahl-stick, and placed him above the 
 necessity of wielding them. 
 
 But Frank fell desperately in love with 
 a lovely young governess, owning a very 
 small portion. He married her in defiance 
 of all remonstrances ; and, at the. end of 
 nineteen years, was as much in love with 
 her as ever, and fairly content to rise but 
 slowly in his profession, painting pot- 
 boilers and illustrating books, to maintain 
 and educate his numerous children. 
 
 If the Misses Selby forgave him, from a 
 sense of duty towards him as their only 
 brother, they never had honestly forgiven 
 ' Mrs. Frank.'
 
 15 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 VISITORS AT THE COTTAGE. 
 
 A LITTLE later, on that same morning, the 
 Miss Selbys were settling in to their usual 
 avocation, when a donkey-cart appeared at 
 their garden-gate. 
 
 It was but an ordinary, common sort of 
 little vehicle, painted green ; but driven by 
 a tall girl in dark serge and summer print 
 blouse, who bore the unmistakable stam2J 
 of gentle breeding, though her brown hair 
 had become somewhat loose from the wind, 
 and her shady straw hat was decorated 
 with a great bunch of wild roses, carelessly
 
 16 TREGAKTHEN. 
 
 stuck in through the ribbon which en- 
 circled it. 
 
 A fine-looking man, of about five-and- 
 forty years, accompanied her : wild roses 
 fastened into the belt of his Norfolk 
 blouse, and a huge mass of honey-suckle 
 upon his knees. 
 
 Even the donkey had wild roses decor- 
 ating its ears; and a pile of ferns, branches 
 of sycamore, lovely with early crimson 
 leaves, and all manner of hedge-row 
 treasures, lay at the bottom of the cart. 
 
 Seeing the ladies seated in the wide bay 
 window, the gentleman stood up in the 
 cart, waving his hat in the air ; he then 
 sprang out, and helped the girl to descend. 
 
 ' Why, it is Frank !' cried Miss Rose. 
 
 ' So it is. What could possess him to 
 come laden up with all that rubbish?' said 
 Miss Selby. 
 
 ' I suppose that is one of our nieces,' cried 
 Miss Jane, hurrying out to welcome them.
 
 TREGARTHEN. 1 7 
 
 Frank did not seem in any way conscious 
 of guilt, as he strode up the little pathway 
 to the glass porch of the cottage. His big 
 cheerful voice rang out before him : 
 
 ' Well, sisters, you got my letter, and 
 are prepared to see us, I suppose. How 
 well you are all looking ! Elizabeth,' — 
 kissing his eldest sister, — ' you are a perfect 
 evergreen. Hey ! ho ! the holly ! And 
 Janey, and Letitia. My dear soul,' — as- 
 suming the dialect of the country, — ' 'ee 
 be quite peart ! And Rose, 'ee du look for 
 all the world like one of the blossoms 
 that thiccee maid of mine have made me 
 pick.' 
 
 ' We are very glad to see you, brother,' 
 said Miss Selby, ' but what possessed you 
 to drive through the town in that way ?' 
 
 'In what way?' asked Frank, looking 
 down over his person. ' Why, Mab in- 
 sisted upon our making ourselves present- 
 able before we came to see you, and looked 
 
 VOL. T. c
 
 18 TREGARTHEN. 
 
 US both well over before she would let us 
 start. What is wron^ with us ?' 
 
 ' Papa, papa,' laughed the girl, ' I told 
 you that my aunts would think us crazy. 
 But, auntie, the hedges do look so ex- 
 quisite to us, after the London streets, that 
 we could not keep our hands off the 
 flowers. What a lovely drive it is ! I 
 had no idea that your lanes were so 
 charming !' 
 
 ' Does not this Duchess of mine look 
 like Queen Summer with her pink shirt 
 and roses ?' asked the unabashed Frank. 
 ' I would like to paint her, in the 
 character.' 
 
 ' Which of our nieces are you, my dear? 
 What is it your father calls you?' asked 
 Miss Letitia, taking the girl's hand, and 
 drawing her to sit beside her upon the 
 sofa, with a kindly embrace. ' Take off 
 your hat, and let us look at you.' 
 
 ' I am Mabel,' said her niece, complying
 
 TREGARTHEX. 19 
 
 with the request, ' but, as that is mamma's 
 name, they always call me the Duchess 
 May. Horace gave me the name, he is so 
 fond of the poems, you know. But there 
 is no one less likely to ride the castle wall, 
 I fear.' 
 
 Her smile was very sweet as she turned 
 her brown eyes upon her fragile-looking 
 aunt. 
 
 ' Xo, there is nothing romantic or heroic 
 about this young woman,' said her father, 
 shaking his head sorrowfully. ' Xothing 
 at all. Her chief accomplishment is mak- 
 ing currant nobbies. There she does shine, 
 I will say that of her, poor dear ! You 
 don't happen to have anobbie or two about 
 you, do you, my dear, for a starving 
 father?' 
 
 ' Xo, papa ; I trusted entirely to my 
 aunts to relieve such pangs of hunger 
 as might overpower you,' laughed she, 
 merrily. 
 
 c 2
 
 20 TREGARTHEN. 
 
 ' Lunch is coming in,' said Miss Selby, 
 taking this au pied de la Jettre. 
 
 ' For that, and all His mercies, the Lord 
 make me truly grateful,' said her brother, 
 piously. ' They starve me terribly, sis- 
 ter,' turning to her, with a piteous look. 
 ' I have been obliged to drive here this 
 morning on purpose to annex a loaf of 
 bread. Can you help me to one ?' . 
 
 ' Mamma sent her love,' said the Duchess. 
 ' She was not well enough to come herself, 
 but she thought that you could advise me 
 as to what butcher and baker we ought 
 to employ. We have to take back some 
 groceries and things, for we did not bring 
 much from town with us, only a few 
 stores for immediate use. And, Auntie 
 Rose, she thinks that you may be able to 
 recommend a servant to us. Some strong, 
 active girl, who can do plain cooking. We 
 only have nurse with us, but we girls help 
 a great deal ourselves.'
 
 TREGAKTHEN. ^ 21 
 
 ' She makes all the currant nobbies,' 
 murmured her father, pathetically; 'and 
 eats them afterwards herself.' 
 
 Miss Selby was pleased with the defer- 
 ence thus shown to them. 
 
 ' I will go into the town with you, my 
 love, after luncheon,' said she ; ' but here 
 comes the tray. Some ham, Frank ?' 
 
 It was a dainty little refection, perhaps 
 more suited to elderly ladies than to a 
 hearty man, but hospitably set forth ac- 
 cording to the unexpected demand upon 
 their larder. 
 
 A chicken, spatch-cocked ; a small 
 knuckle of cold ham ; some eggs upon 
 anchovy toast ; delicate rolls of bread ; 
 butter, raspberry jam, and clotted cream : 
 all delicious to Mabel's town-bred taste, 
 used to big joints of beef and mutton, and 
 enormous puddings : substantial enough 
 for hungry boys and girls. 
 
 ' Yes, please, but pray don't give me all
 
 22 ^ TKEGARTHEN. 
 
 at once,' said wicked Frank, as his sister 
 helped him to a shaving, thin enough for 
 a Yauxhall slice, at which he looked comi- 
 cally, doubled it over twice, and took at 
 one mouthful. 
 
 The Duchess pressed his foot beneath 
 the table, and looked entreatingly at him, 
 but the spirit of mischief had taken hold 
 of him ; he was like a boy set free from 
 school, and it was useless to try to control 
 him. 
 
 ' We came down yesterday,' said Mabel, 
 trying to turn her aunts' attention from 
 his antics. 'It is a very beautiful line of 
 railroad, particularly below Exeter.' 
 
 ' Do you really mean, my dear, that you 
 have all come to that house ? All ten of 
 you ?' 
 
 ' Yes, all ten of us,' said the girl, smil- 
 ing. ' Some of us are small people, you 
 know, and pack in easily. None of us are 
 very exacting about our quarters, so long
 
 TREGARTHEN. % 2S 
 
 as we have that magnificent beach and the 
 sea. Oh, aunt, to see the waves dashing 
 up against the cliffs in such showers of 
 foam, and rolling up so grandly along the 
 sands ! And the sea-gulls hovering over 
 it ! What pleasure it is !' 
 
 ' But how can you all be properly ac- 
 commodated at night ?' asked Miss Selby. 
 
 ' There was a difficulty at first,' ex- 
 plained candid Frank. ' I visited three 
 doss-houses, at the East End, so as to ac- 
 quire the faculty of housing numbers with 
 due economy of space. The principle of 
 slinging sacks in rows, above beds spread 
 upon the floor, pleased me much. But 
 Mabel objected, after the big boys had 
 considerably damaged themselves by fall- 
 ing out of bed when they had nightmares 
 after any particularly indigestible batch of 
 the Duchess's pasties. N'ow^ they lie down 
 in relays upon the floor itself. He that is 
 down, you know, can fear no fall. My
 
 24 TREGARTHEN. 
 
 children, thanks to parental example, are 
 all creatures of imagination. Lying down 
 is to them very much the same as lying 
 upon a down bed.' 
 
 The Misses Selby were not used to 
 rhodomontade. They looked at each other, 
 all uncertain how much to take literally, 
 but each accepting their brother s account 
 in a different degree, according to their 
 individual character. Miss Selby looked 
 shocked. Miss Letitia puzzled. Miss Rose 
 a little contemptuous ; Miss Jane laughed. 
 
 ' Come, papa,' said his daughter, a little 
 nervously, ' if you have finished your 
 luncheon, don't talk any more nonsense ; 
 but, if my aunts have no objection, let us 
 proceed to business. Even summer days 
 come to an end, and we have a great deal 
 to do. Mamma distrusts my driving, and 
 will grow^ anxious if we are late.' 
 
 ' My practical child, you are right, as 
 usual. Bless you !' said he.
 
 TREGARTHEN. 25 
 
 They started upon their shopping and 
 other business, accompanied by two of the 
 Miss Selbys. Miss Letitia could not walk 
 about, she was nearly crippled from rheu- 
 matic gout, and Miss Rose stayed to pre- 
 pare a generous basket full of garden 
 produce, eggs, and home-made preserves, 
 wherewith to assist her sister-in-law's 
 larder. She undertook to send the donkey- 
 cart to meet them w^hen this was ready. 
 The gardener boy should drive it to the 
 top of the first hill beyond the town, and 
 wait for them there, picking up parcels 
 from various shops on the way. 
 
 ' And take those ridiculous nosegays 
 out of your hat, my dear,' said she. ' You 
 shall have a proper rosebud to put at your 
 throat, like anyone else, if you choose.' 
 
 ' Like anyone else !' sighed Frank, sacri- 
 ficing his wild-flowers mournfully. 
 
 '" Oh ! the flags of PiccadiUy ! 
 Here's a song to make one silly ! 
 Even here ! So far from town !"
 
 26 TREGARTHEN. 
 
 Good day, sir — ' breaking off suddenly, 
 and resuming the conventional manner of 
 a gentleman, as a courteous, elderly, white- 
 haired man approached, stopping to speak 
 to Miss Selby, and lifting his hat to the 
 strangers. 
 
 ' My brother, Sir Theophilus Grenfell,' 
 said Miss Selby. 
 
 ' It is many years since we met, Mr. 
 Selby,' said Sir Theophilus, ' but I thought 
 that I could not be mistaken. One of 
 your daughters ? I am glad to see you 
 again. Have you come to visit your 
 sisters T 
 
 ' No, I have come to Polzeath, partly for 
 sketching, partly for sea-air for my family, 
 and also that we may have the pleasure of 
 being near my sisters, and seeing the old 
 places once more. There is no place like 
 Cornwall, Sir Theophilus.' 
 
 ' No, no — oh ! certainly not, no, no,' said
 
 TREGARTHEX. 27 
 
 the old gentleman. ' When did you leave 
 town ?' 
 
 The two men walked on together, chat- 
 ting, a little apart from the ladies, and 
 Frank's absurdities vanished altogether. 
 
 Mabel, with her aunt's assistance, com- 
 pleted her errands with no reference to 
 her father ; interviewed a servant ; made 
 her purchases, and pleased her elders 
 greatly by her practical good sense. 
 
 ' You will come down soon to see 
 mamma and the children, w^on't you, 
 auntie,' said she, when they took their 
 leave. ' Mamma will be so grateful to 
 you for all these good things, and she 
 would be so pleased to show you Stephen 
 and Amanda. All England know the 
 little dears, papa has painted them so 
 often, in so many characters. They are 
 so pretty, quite our show specimens. 
 Amanda is very like Auntie Rose, I see. 
 Papa always says so.'
 
 28 TKEGARTHEN. 
 
 ' We will come very soon, my dear. 
 We are very glad to have seen you. Our 
 love to your mother. Good-bye, Frank.' 
 
 ' Papa has a sketch of the children for 
 you, which you will receive as soon as 
 we can make some place in which to un- 
 pack the pictures,' said Mabel, waving her 
 hand in farewell. 
 
 The Miss Selbys went home to discuss 
 this exciting break in their quiet lives. 
 
 ' How good-looking poor Frank still is,' 
 said Miss Rose. 
 
 ' And what a sweet pretty girl,' said Miss 
 Letitia. 
 
 ' Do you think her pretty ?' asked Miss 
 Selby, dubiously. ' Her forehead is so 
 low, and her features not at all regular.' 
 
 ' But her eyes are so good, and her 
 face is so expressive ; her smile is so 
 sweet.' 
 
 ' And her complexion is good,' added 
 Miss Jane.
 
 TREGAETHEN. 29 
 
 ' Poor girl ! She seems to do her best, 
 but I am afraid that things are in a sad 
 state among them. Did you notice how 
 Frank said that her cooking gave her 
 brothers nightmare ? It must be very 
 heavy. And the idea of her being ex- 
 pected to carry currant nobbies about in 
 her pocket, instead of their sitting down 
 to proper meals at proper times.' 
 
 Miss Selby shook her head mournfully 
 at the thought ; but Miss Jane broke into 
 a peal of laughter, and even Miss Letitia 
 smiled. 
 
 ' Oh ! Elizabeth, Elizabeth, you will 
 kill me some day. How can you take 
 everything so literally ? Frank was only 
 talking downright stuff, in his old way.' 
 
 ' There is a o^ood deal in what Elizabeth 
 says, though,' said Miss Rose. * I do 
 wish that they were all more like other 
 people.'
 
 30 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 THE MOENING POST REACHES THE HALL. 
 
 Miss Rose Selby was, as has been said, 
 the intimate friend of Lady Sarah Grenfell, 
 and accustomed to be sent for in all or any- 
 emergency which might befall that good 
 lady. 
 
 The post brought letters to the Hall on 
 the same morning as that when Frank 
 Selby's epistle reached his sisters, and 
 one of them announced that a difficult}^ 
 had arisen in the family of Lady Courtney, 
 only sister of Sir Theophilus Grenfell. 
 
 The Grenfells were very wealthy. Gen-
 
 TEEGARTHEX. 31 
 
 eration after generation liad added to their 
 possessions and local consequence in every 
 way ; the place was a magnificent one, its 
 grounds, its timber, its picture-gallery 
 were all remarkable ; but death and sor- 
 row had been very busy among its owners, 
 and had left Sir Theophilus and his sister 
 the only survivors out of many brothers 
 and sisters. They were of affectionate 
 disposition, and warmly attached to each 
 other. 
 
 Lady Courtney's children were extreme- 
 ly delicate, and she wrote to say that her 
 daughter Augusta had broken down in 
 health over her first London season. 
 
 ' Sir Theophilus,' said Lady Grenfell. 
 
 Sir Theophilus was deep in the morning 
 paper. His meal was concluded, and his 
 plate pushed back. 
 
 ' Sir Theophilus,' said her ladyship, in 
 a rather louder voice. 
 
 ' My dear,' exclaimed he, with a little
 
 32 TREGARTHEN. 
 
 start, laying aside his paper. ' Do you 
 want me ?' 
 
 ' This is a letter from your sister,' said 
 she. ' Diana is in some trouble again 
 about the girls. Augusta has been ill, 
 and, though better now, is ordered to 
 leave town, and seek some purer air for 
 the hot months.' 
 
 ' Dear, dear, poor Di ! What anxiety 
 she is always having with those young 
 people ! Is it Augusta's lungs that are 
 affected ?' 
 
 ' Letters are, at all times, very unsatis- 
 factory,' said his wife, turning that of her 
 sister-in-law over and over, as if hoping to 
 find more in it than there was. ' Still, I 
 hope there is nothing very seriously amiss.' 
 
 ' Augusta was never fit for a London 
 season,' remarked the young man who 
 completed the breakfast-party. 
 
 ' No, she has always been a delicate 
 girl.'
 
 TREGARTHEN. 3^ 
 
 ' Diana should take her off to the South 
 of France, or Madeira, at once,' said Sir 
 Theophilus. 
 
 ' So she would, but there is a difficulty 
 as to who could go with her. That nice 
 governess of theirs married, you know, 
 and Diana cannot be spared herself, for 
 Louisa's prospects appear to be in a critical 
 position just at present.' 
 
 ' Louisa ! Some love-affair ? How jolly !' 
 cried Charles. 
 
 'Is it something desirable?' asked the 
 elder gentleman. 
 
 ' Very. Lord Dereham has been paying 
 her a great deal of attention this season ; 
 he is always in their house. He has not 
 yet proposed, but Diana has no doubt but 
 what he is only waiting for some oppor- 
 tunity, and cannot, therefore, leave town 
 herself just now.' 
 
 ' No, no : no, no, certainly not,' said Sir 
 Theophilus. ' Dereham would be a capi- 
 
 VOL. I. D
 
 34 TREGARTHEN. 
 
 tal match for the girl. As good a fellow 
 as I know, and his property so near theirs 
 in Devonshire. I am very glad to hear of 
 this.' 
 
 ' Why should not Augusta come here, 
 mother?' asked Charles. 
 
 Charles Grenfell, only child of that old 
 couple, born after many years of marriage 
 and many disappointed hopes, heir to that 
 magnificent place, and only hope of that 
 old baronetage which had a fatal reputa- 
 tion of never descending straight from 
 father to eldest son, Mr. Charles Grenfell 
 was a personage of immense consequence 
 to all around him. He was a stalwart 
 young fellow enough, and showed every 
 likelihood of living to come into the in- 
 heritance. He had left Eton, and was 
 taking a summer's holiday before com- 
 mencing his studies at Oxford. He had 
 elected to spend this interval at home. 
 
 ' I am tired of going abroad,' said he.
 
 TREGARTHEN. 35 
 
 ' It seems as if I knew every place better 
 than my own neighbourhood. There will 
 be some shooting by-and-by ; let us stay 
 quietly here for the summer.' 
 
 His will was law to his father and 
 mother in such matters, and they were 
 growing old enough to enjoy quietness 
 also. They gave up the London season, 
 and were vegetating happily in their own 
 home. But some weeks of solitude had, 
 perhaps, been enough for the young man. 
 He had wandered about, fishing, lying 
 under trees in lovely scenery, reading 
 poetry, and dreaming, not working hard, 
 though he had a tutor, and he now caught 
 at the chance of securing his favourite 
 cousin for a companion. Ahnost all the 
 young people of his own set were either 
 up in London, at school, or reading some- 
 where through the long vacation. His 
 eldest cousin was yachting round the 
 world, trying to avoid the family scourge 
 
 d2
 
 36 TREGARTHEN. 
 
 of consumption, rife among the Courtneys. 
 The girls, who came nearest to him in 
 age, were in town for the season ; the 
 younger boys were at Rugby and Harrow. 
 It was a capital chance for him to secure 
 a companion of his own age at Tregarthen 
 for the next two months. 
 
 ' This climate is as good as anything 
 Aunt Di would get at Hyeres or Nice. 
 You would cosset Gussie up, mother. I 
 daresay that she has only been dancing 
 herself to death, and that she will be as 
 right as a trivet after a few weeks of 
 Cornish air and Cornish cream.' 
 
 Lady Sarah looked at Sir Theophilus. 
 
 ' Diana would rather Hke that, I fancy,' 
 said she. 
 
 Sir Theophilus was not quick in catch- 
 ing a hint conveyed by a look, but he was 
 fond of his sister, and always hospitable. 
 
 ' Yes, yes, yes,' said he. ' Tregarthen 
 is " home " to poor dear Di ; no place like
 
 TREGARTHEN. 37 
 
 it to her, of course. Have her girl here 
 by all means, if Di would like it, — a nice 
 girl, a very nice girl. We will take care 
 of her. Let me see Di's letter, my love.' 
 
 He read it through his innce-nez^ holding 
 the paper up with the other hand at a 
 short distance from his eyes. 
 
 'Dereham, eh? Diana is in luck; an 
 excellent match for Louisa ; it would be a 
 pity if anything should come into the way 
 of it. Bnt, dear, dear, how these children 
 grow up ! It seems only the other day 
 that they were all little things on Dart- 
 moor ponies, wdth long hair streaming 
 down their backs ; and now to think there 
 should be any talk of Louisa marrying ! 
 Dear, dear !' 
 
 ' Father ! Louisa is twenty. It is high 
 time for her to settle,' cried Charles. 
 ' Augusta came out this year, and the 
 twins are nearly seventeen.' 
 
 ' Is it really so ! Well, well,' said the
 
 38 TREGAKTHEN. 
 
 old gentleman. ' Poor Diana, what a tribe 
 it is for tliat little woman, and all so deli- 
 cate, too ! I am glad that you are a boy, 
 Charlie. We shall not have this trouble 
 of settling you desirably just yet. Boys 
 don't fall in love so soon as girls, and 
 it is very well for us old folks that you 
 don't.' 
 
 There was the suspicion of a smile 
 about Lady Sarah's lips as she reached 
 out her jewelled hand for the letter. 
 
 ' Charlie is not far from twenty, also,^ 
 said she. ' Next year he comes of age. 
 He will bring us home a wife before long, 
 I hope. Sir Theophilus. I would like to 
 see his heir before we die.' 
 
 ' His heir ? Oh ! yes, yes, very true ; 
 but there is no chance of that just yet. 
 Take your time, my boy, and look well 
 round you first. At any rate, don't let 
 your wife be a cousin, nor so delicate as 
 poor Diana's girls are. Look out for
 
 TREGARTHEN. 3^ 
 
 healthy stock to bolster up the old name 
 with, my boy.' 
 
 ' Xo fear, father,' laughed the heir. 
 ' Augusta would not have me were I to 
 ask her, and I am not likely to do so. 
 One might nearly as well marry one's 
 sister as one's cousin.' 
 
 ' And what shall I write to Diana ?' 
 asked Lady Sarah. 
 
 ' Oh, you know what to say better than 
 I could tell you. Beg her to let us have 
 the poor dear girl as soon as she likes. 
 You had better have Miss Selby here, had 
 you not? to help in amusing her, — getting 
 up excursions, and that sort of thing. 
 You don't like driving about the country, 
 you know. Rose Selby will take her off 
 your hands.' 
 
 ' Well, yes ; it would be a good plan to 
 have Rose here if Augusta comes. But I 
 fear that, if she does come, she will hardly 
 be fit to drive about much.'
 
 40 TREGARTHEN. 
 
 ' She will quickly pick up health when 
 she comes here, I daresay. Children are 
 so quickly up and down. Besides, we 
 have heard of poor dear Di's scares before 
 now.' 
 
 ' Poor Diana ! Yes, and with reason, 
 too. How many children is it that she 
 has lost?' 
 
 ' Four or five. But they were all the 
 younger ones, except that second son. It 
 was London that killed them. The elder 
 ones, who were brought up in the country, 
 did well enough until Courtney went into 
 Parliament, and began living half his life 
 in that pestilent air.' 
 
 ' That is always your theory, father ; 
 but who is to live in London if everybody 
 must spend all their days in the country?' 
 ' There would always be people who 
 could live nowhere else, of course. But 
 if Courtney gave up worrying about poli- 
 tics, and attended to his children, it would
 
 TREGARTHEN. 41 
 
 be a mucli better thing for them all. When 
 the Lord has made a man a country gen- 
 tleman, why, in the name of goodness, 
 cannot he be contented to he a country 
 gentleman, instead of wasting time, health, 
 and money up in that howling wilderness 
 of a town?' 
 
 Lady Sarah made no reply beyond — 
 
 ' Exactly so, my dear.' 
 
 This was as complete a fad of her hus- 
 band's as any political one of Sir Thomas 
 Courtney's could be, and it was an old 
 sore with her. 
 
 She was of an ambitious character, and 
 would have liked to have employed the 
 great wealth of the Grenfells in making a 
 high position for her son. 
 
 As a great leader of society, she would 
 have been able to make and maintain an 
 elevated place into which Charlie should 
 have stepped ; and from which he might 
 have soared far higher. She had planned
 
 42 TREGARTHEN. 
 
 some such role as this when she married 
 Sir Theophilus. She had married from 
 ambition ; she had believed him to be a 
 quiet, gentle little man, whom she could 
 have guided and ruled for his own good : 
 his great wealth made all her dreams pos- 
 sible, but she had found him most ob- 
 stinately wedded to his own opinions, and 
 utterly unmanageable. 
 
 Then, year after year had passed, full of 
 blighted ho|)es of a family, with little like- 
 lihood of ever having a son at all ; and 
 disappointment rather soured her temper. 
 
 She was envious of her sister-in-law. 
 Diana had a fresh child every year ; sons 
 to do her credit by their talents, daughters 
 to marry among exalted people, and 
 consolidate the family connection, and that 
 poor-spirited creature, exactly like her 
 brother, thought of nothing but their 
 health. Lady Sarah was convinced that 
 their health would be right enough if
 
 TREGARTHEN. 43 
 
 Diana was not always thinking of it, and 
 coddling tliem up. It made them delicate 
 to be so careful of them. 
 
 But Lady Sarah's secret discontent was 
 newly aroused, and pricked her more 
 sorely than ever now, when her own son 
 had left Eton with no particular repu- 
 tation, showed no eagerness for going to 
 college, and actually played into his fa- 
 ther's hands by begging to remain at home, 
 in their own place, all this summer. 
 
 Charlie was not stupid, either. He had 
 plenty of ability, but did not care to exert 
 it. It was too bad. She looked around 
 her for a holiday tutor for the young man, 
 and found one exactly to her own mind. 
 
 Mr. Jackson was the son of a clergyman 
 who had died, leaving a widow and family 
 of children in small circumstances. A 
 great effort was being made to enable the 
 eldest of them to pass the examination for 
 the Civil Service, and he gladly undertook
 
 44 TREGARTHEN. 
 
 to read with young Grenfell for a certain 
 number of hours a day, rising early and 
 sitting up late to study his own subjects 
 at the same time, thankful to be able to 
 do this in such comfortable quarters, and 
 in such good air, while saving his salary 
 to pay examination fees for himself, and 
 schooling for his little brother. 
 
 Such an example, constantly before him, 
 might have stirred Charlie up to work, 
 surely. But it did not. Lady Sarah was 
 sore at heart. 
 
 And, now, here was this girl likely to 
 be fastened on her for months, and she was 
 well aware that Lady Courtney's wishes 
 would lead in the direction of an attach- 
 ment arising between her and her cousin. 
 She knew this by instinct, nor did any- 
 thing belie her conviction. 
 
 Should this attachment arise, how would 
 it influence her son ? She did not desire 
 it for him ; she feared that it would make
 
 TREGARTHEN. 45 
 
 him still more inclined to sit down idle. 
 and lead a lotus-eating existence without 
 other dignity than his wealth must 
 necessarily impart to him. 
 
 But she hardly knew Augusta. It might 
 work differently. Xo objection could be 
 raised to the match if the liking did arise, 
 except her own hopes that Charlie would 
 wed higher. But, if it stirred him up to 
 work ? 
 
 Lady Sarah sighed, as she wrote to her 
 sister-in-law, and gave the invitation. 
 
 The rej^ly was almost like a favourable 
 answer to her doubts. After warm- 
 hearted thanks for the brotherly and 
 sisterly kindness which prompted the 
 invitation. Lady Courtney went on to 
 say: 
 
 ' I am so o-lad to think of dear Auo;usta 
 being with you, for there is no knowing 
 under whose influence she might have 
 fallen were she sent amons: stranofers. The
 
 46 TREGARTHEN. 
 
 dear girl is so earnest, so entliusiastic 
 about all which she undertakes ; — she 
 throws herself so heart and soul into books, 
 and music, and art, that she gives herself 
 none of the repose which her health ab- 
 solutely requires. She is quite the in- 
 tellectual one of the family ; and I beg of 
 you, my dear Sarah, to curb her energies 
 by all the means in your power rather than 
 encourage her to read, and wear herself 
 out by thinking and writing. Let her be 
 out of doors as much as possible, and 
 allow her active mind to lie fallow for the 
 time.' 
 
 ' Dear, dear ; dear, dear, how extraor- 
 dinary,' said Sir Theophilus. ' Where did 
 the girl get all this cleverness. Courtney 
 is no genius, for all his attention to politics. 
 His voice was never heard in the House ; 
 he just votes with his leader ; he never set 
 the Thames on fire, nor ever will. Di was 
 never a genius. Young Tom was plucked
 
 TREGARTHEX. 47 
 
 for his little go. Where does the girl get 
 all this wonderful cleverness ?' 
 
 Charles broke out into a ipesl of the 
 most uncontrollable laughter upon hearing 
 his father talk thus. 
 
 • Father !' cried he, when he could speak 
 for laughing, ' don't you know that all 
 Aunt Diana's geese are swans?' 
 
 ' Maybe, maybe,' said the old gentleman, 
 with a little twist in the corner of his 
 mouth, ' but, really, '^this account is too — 
 too — too ' 
 
 Charles laughed the more.
 
 48 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 A MORNING WALK. 
 
 ' I AM going up to the Hall, sisters,' said 
 Miss Rose, coming into the cottage parlour 
 with her hat on. 
 
 ' Do see if you can borrow a phaeton, 
 then, that we may drive to Polzeath one 
 day, and call upon Mrs. Frank,' said Miss 
 Selby. ' It is a week ago since Frank and 
 Mabel were here, and we have not been 
 over yet.' 
 
 ' I don't know what day I could go at 
 present,' demurred Miss Rose. ' There are 
 the Girls' Friendly treat coming on, and the
 
 TREGARTHEX. 49 
 
 school examinations ; and we ought to call 
 at the Holfords before we go anywhere else, 
 we have not been there for so long; and I 
 want the Holford girls to help in the Girls* 
 Friendly Society treat. Perhaps Jane 
 would go.' 
 
 * I ?' said Miss Jane. ' I could not fix a 
 day till that Poland hen has hatched out. 
 I should lose all those choice chickens, in 
 every likelihood, if I trusted them to 
 Roger. I have three black Spanish hens, 
 too, that will hatch out at the end of this 
 week ; and I must take my geranium cut- 
 tings as soon as possible, while the plants 
 are in such good condition to yield them. 
 I could not go till that is done.' 
 
 ' It would not do for you to go alone, 
 would it?' asked Miss Rose, doubtfully. 
 ' You might ask some of the girls over to 
 spend a day.' 
 
 ' Oh, Rose ! I think more of you ought 
 to go,' remonstrated Miss Letitia. 
 
 VOL. I. E
 
 50 TREGARTHEN. 
 
 ' Well. I suppose we ought, but there is 
 so much to do always. I will see if we 
 can contrive it,' said Miss Rose, in a 
 resigned voice. 
 
 ' It will look so,' pursued her sister. 
 ' Frank is our only brother, and the 
 children our own nephews and nieces.' 
 
 ' Yes, yes, of course we must go. I will 
 see about it,' said Miss Rose. 
 
 The excitement caused by the visit of 
 Frank and Mabel had passed away, and 
 the old ladies' accustomed little duties and 
 pleasures once more became paramount in 
 their eyes. They were not cold-hearted, 
 but used to being engrossed with their 
 own affairs. Only Miss Letitia, being set 
 aside from active participation in these, 
 thought more often of Frank's hearty 
 laugh, and Mabel's gentle eyes. She was 
 often a little lonely while her sisters were 
 busy over household and parish matters ;
 
 TREGARTHEN. 51 
 
 but it was not her habit to exact attention, 
 and her sisters did not find this out. 
 
 Miss Rose took the path through the 
 plantations, into which a gate from the 
 cottage garden opened. 
 
 It was a pleasant, shady path, fragrant 
 with the resinous odour of pine-trees, 
 whose needles carpeted the ground. Great 
 masses of bracken rtcw wherever o-lades 
 opened among the thickets, and delicate 
 lady-ferns lifted their paler green fronds 
 in graceful clumps among them. 
 
 Grey rock cropped up here and there, 
 cushioned with moss ; and causing the 
 bright little stream which ran through the 
 place to meander its course in very tortu- 
 ous fashion ; now spreading out into a 
 marshy corner, blue with forget-me-nots ; 
 now deepening into a pool, dark with 
 brown shadows ; and then breaking among 
 large boulders, and slipping over them in 
 silvery little falls. 
 
 E 2 
 
 UBRARY 
 
 WN'VERs/TY Of nimm^
 
 52 TREGARTHEN. 
 
 Such wild flowers as love the woods 
 grew plentifully here, and all the open 
 spots would be gorgeous with heather soon. 
 Only an early spray or two was yet in 
 bloom, but swarms of dainty little blue 
 and copper-coloured butterflies hovered in 
 the sun over them. 
 
 The gate from the Misses Selby's garden, 
 leading into this pleasant path, had been 
 opened by Sir Theophilus on purpose that 
 Miss Letitia might walk here when she was 
 sufliciently well. It was a great boon to 
 her, and a bench or two had been put up, 
 upon which she might rest. 
 
 The last of these was situated where 
 the woods took a sudden turn along the 
 crest of a hill, and the ground sank 
 abruptly into a wide basin, thickly planted 
 with rhododendrons, now a blaze of colour. 
 
 The efl'ect of this, bursting unexpectedly 
 upon the eye after the shade of the plan- 
 tations, was extremely beautiful. It was
 
 TKEGARTHEX. 53 
 
 the beo^inninp^ of the celebrated American 
 gardens of Tregarthen. 
 
 Some rustic stone steps led down the 
 descent, in close proximity to the cascade 
 which leaped from rock to rock, and then 
 united its waters to those of the little river 
 which ran along its bottom. 
 
 At the foot of the steps, Miss Rose en- 
 countered Charles Grenfell, lounging at 
 his ease, with a volume of poetry in his 
 hand. 
 
 He sprang up as he saw her descend, 
 and assisted her to more level ground. 
 
 ' 1 am glad to meet you, Miss Rose,' 
 said he. ' My mother wants to see you, I 
 know. Augusta Courtney is coming for 
 a long visit, and my mother would be so 
 glad if you could come too, and help us to 
 entertain her. It would be awfully good 
 of you if you would. Augusta has been 
 ill, and it is not every kind of amusement 
 which would suit her, and so many people
 
 54 TREGARTHEN. 
 
 are away now that we are afraid she may 
 be dull.' 
 
 ' I hope that your cousin has not been 
 very unwell. Not anything affecting the 
 lungs, I hope ?' 
 
 ' No, I think not. She had a cold, but 
 it has not been chest trouble, I believe. 
 Nothing more than inability to stand the 
 racket of the season, I fancy.' 
 
 ' I should be very happy to come, of 
 course, if your mother wishes me to do so. 
 When does your cousin arrive ?' 
 
 ' Not for a day or two yet. We hoped 
 that she would have been able to travel 
 sooner, but the doctor thought the journey 
 too long without a break. She went to 
 Hastings first, then on to Devonshire^ 
 and will be here early next week. You 
 must keep the school-treat for her, Miss 
 Rose.' 
 
 ' 1 was going up to consult your mother
 
 TREGARTHEX. 55 
 
 about it. Will it not be too iiiuch for your 
 cousin, as she is not well?' 
 
 ' She must be very ill if she could not 
 bear a school-treat ; nothing would save 
 her if that would be too much, I should 
 think. Oh I Augusta will want some ex- 
 citement, you may be sure.' 
 
 ' I wanted to beg the loan of a pony- 
 carriage for one day this week. My brother 
 has brought his family to Polzeath for the 
 summer, and some of us would like to drive 
 over and see them all.' 
 
 ' I will drive you myself, with pleasure. 
 It must have been your brother whom I 
 saw yesterday, then. Does he paint ?' 
 
 ' Yes, Frank is an artist.' 
 
 ' And he had a good-looking fellow with 
 him, sketching too. A man about my age, 
 fair-haired, with a high nose, and a very 
 jolly-looking fellow altogether.' 
 
 ' I have no doubt that would be his
 
 56 TREGARTHEN. 
 
 eldest son, Horace, but I have not seen 
 him since he was a child.' 
 
 ' A lot of children were careering about 
 them, and they had luncheon baskets. I 
 wondered who they were. I wish I had 
 known they were relations of yours, for I 
 longed to make one of such a merry set. 
 They were all laughing so heartily, and 
 I had to ride away again all by myself, 
 when I had washed the Black Prince's 
 legs in the breakers, feeling very dull. 
 Miss Rose, I do so wish that I had brothers 
 and sisters ! There is nothing in the world 
 to do here.' 
 
 ' Oh ! for shame, Mr. Charles. How 
 many people would envy you your posi- 
 tion. Nothing to do in this beautiful 
 place !' 
 
 ' No, nothing at all to do. The place 
 would be as beautiful without me. Some- 
 body else would pay the fellows for keep- 
 ing it in order. Oh ! how I wish that it
 
 TREGARTHEX. 57 
 
 was not always in such beautiful order ! 
 I came here this morning to try and de- 
 ceive myself into the belief that this corner 
 was wild, but it is not. Even the water- 
 fall may not tumble over the rocks without 
 due regard to splashing aesthetically. I 
 am sick of it all.' 
 
 Miss Rose looked puzzled. 
 
 ' Why did you object to going abroad. 
 then ? Sir Theophilus and your mother 
 were willing to go anywhere that }'ou 
 liked. Xorway might have been wild 
 enough for you.' 
 
 ' I have been to Xorway,' said he, 
 wearily. • 'We were kind enough to go 
 there and look at nature one summer ; but 
 there was nothing else to do, so we came 
 home again. The sun could shine at mid- 
 night without us, you know, just as well.' 
 
 ' There is Mr. Jackson looking for you. 
 Perhaps he can teach you something to 
 interest you.'
 
 58 TREGARTHEN. 
 
 ' He is such an awful prig,' said Charles, 
 lowering his voice confidentially. ' Oh, 
 that he were not such a virtuous young 
 man ! If I could only detect him tripping 
 in any way, it would be a relief to my 
 mind. It would prove him to be human. 
 I do not feel myself fit company for an- 
 gelic visitors yet. They embarrass me 
 with their perfection.' 
 
 ' My dear Mr. Charles, you say such odd 
 things. You are not a wild young man. 
 You would not really wish Mr. Jackson 
 to be wicked.' 
 
 ' No, there is no such luck,' said Charles, 
 yawning. ' But he makes me long to 
 scream sometimes, or to throw books at 
 him, or break out somehow.' 
 
 Mr. Jackson, in very correct costume, 
 with hair nicely brushed, drew near, and 
 •lifted his hat politely to the lady. 
 
 ' I have been looking for you, Mr. Gren- 
 fell,' said he. 'Eleven, I believe, is the
 
 TREGARTHEN. 59 
 
 hour for our studies, and it is now a quar- 
 ter to twelve.' 
 
 ' Why do you keep your watch always 
 right, Jackson ?' asked his pupil. ' Learn 
 wisdom from me. It is so inconvenient 
 to have the correct time always at hand. 
 I believe that my watch says twenty min- 
 utes past ten, so I am still early for our 
 reading.' 
 
 ' Will you allow me to regulate your 
 watch by station time ? It is a pity to be 
 so far wrong as that.' 
 
 ' Regulate my precious time-keeper ! 
 Not for worlds ! Let me keep one irregu- 
 larity about me, at least.' 
 
 ' I merely wished to save you from some 
 probable inconvenience.' 
 
 ' All the clocks at Tregarthen are right, 
 I believe. There are fifty, more or less, 
 about the place. Let me have something 
 wrong about me.' 
 
 ' My dear Mr. Grenfell, it would be de-
 
 60 TREGARTHEN. 
 
 cidedly wrong to waste more time. Don't 
 talk so mucli nonsense, but let us set to 
 work as fast as possible now.' 
 
 Mr. Jackson — nobody ever called him 
 anything else ; it was doubtful whether 
 he had been ' Bobby ' even in the days of 
 his infancy — Mr. Jackson walked off with 
 his prisoner, who was quite as much of a 
 trial to him as he was to Charles. 
 
 From some reason, not worth mention, 
 it was more convenient to the Tregarthen 
 stable arrangements that the Miss Selbys 
 should be driven to Polzeath that after- 
 noon than any other. Charles could not 
 escape from his tutor in time to act as 
 their charioteer, and they went in state, 
 Avith a smart coachman, in a barouche. 
 
 Their brother, and most of the young 
 people, were not at home. They saw Mrs. 
 Frank, who was darning a huge pile of 
 black merino stockings, with Dorothea's 
 assistance. She had tea brought in for
 
 TREGARTHEX. 61 
 
 them, and, presently, the little ones ran 
 in. 
 
 They certainly were pretty children, but 
 did not appear to the best advantage in 
 sand-grubbing garments and faces that 
 wanted washing. Xurse caught them, 
 and put on clean pinafores, but it was 
 time for their aunts to go before they re- 
 appeared, as the horses could not be kept 
 waiting. 
 
 It was a formal visit. Mrs. Frank was 
 nervous. It was not a good day with her, 
 she had a headache. The parlour would 
 have been neater under the care of almost 
 any of the other girls. Dorothea was not 
 housewifely. All the milk had gone sour, 
 and fresh supplies had not arrived. Al- 
 too^ether. the visit was not a o-peat success.
 
 62 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 Dorothea's indignation. 
 
 Soon after the visitors had left Polzeath, 
 Frank Selby and the young people re- 
 turned home. 
 
 ' I am sorry to have missed them,' said 
 Frank. ' Why have they not come over 
 before ?' 
 
 ' It was not convenient to their lady- 
 ships,' replied Dorothea, scornfully. 
 
 ' My dear!' remonstrated her mother. 
 
 She was never known to reprove in 
 harsher terms, but that was generally 
 enough for the girls who loved her so 
 heartily.
 
 TREGARTHEN. 63 
 
 Xot in this case, however. Dorothea, 
 outspoken and strong in cliaracter, was 
 boiling over with wrath at the neglect 
 shown to her mother, and which this 
 tardy and formal visit had by no means 
 appeased. Xeither had it lifted the safety- 
 valve to let the steam escape. 
 
 ' Well, mother dear, I must have my say 
 for once.' said she, indignantly. 
 
 ' For once ?' murmured Horace, gently. 
 ' Dorothea asserts her opinion for once 
 only. Even the long-suffering worm is 
 now about to turn, for once. Let us listen 
 to the tirade which is to favour us this 
 once, and once only. Silence for the meek 
 Dorothea Selby's once.' 
 
 'You be quiet, Horry !' cried his sister, 
 turning hotly upon him, while smiles ap- 
 peared on more than one face. ' Here is 
 mother, who has been so ill, and is still so 
 weak, obhged to come to this out-of-the- 
 way place with all of us, who, for all those
 
 64 TREGARTHEN. 
 
 people know, are far too young to nurse 
 her properly, and who have all been ill 
 too for months and months. What proper 
 attention or comforts can she have here ? 
 Why don't these old women look after her 
 a little ? They can have nothing better to 
 do. They ought to think it a privilege to 
 have mother for a sister, and do all they 
 can for her. But how do they behave to 
 her? They let her be here for ten days 
 without any notice at all, and then drive 
 up in a grand barouche, with a coachman 
 and footman, and a pair of fine bays, too 
 good to stand or wait, or be put up in this 
 stable, and they march in with, " Well, 
 my dear, we are glad to see you looking 
 so well. We heard that you had been 
 poorly." Poorly ! I wish they had been 
 so poorly, they would know something 
 about illness then.' 
 ' My dear, my dear !' 
 'Mother, it is of no use to "my dear"
 
 TREGARTHEN. 65 
 
 me now — it is not indeed. There is Aunt 
 Rose going to stay with those useless 
 people at Tregarthen because a ridiculous 
 girl has over-danced herself in town, and 
 got a cold in her head. She must be 
 attended to, and you neglected.' 
 
 ' Go it, Dolly,' said her brother. ' Give 
 it out ; you will burst else.' 
 
 ' Don't teaze her, Horace,' said the 
 Duchess May. ' Dolly is right enough, 
 mamma is neglected shamefully. It does 
 not matter for us, but our aunts ouo;ht to 
 be more attentive to her.' 
 
 'Well do I know it,' said Horace, 
 shrugging his shoulders. 
 
 'What is the use of being vexed, my 
 dears?' said their mother. 'Your aunts 
 and I never did suit each other. Our ways 
 are so different from theirs.' 
 
 ' Let them change theirs, then,' pro- 
 nounced Dorothea, decidedly. ' Of course 
 ours are different ; ive live in the world 
 and know best what to do.' 
 
 VOL. I. F
 
 66 TREGARTHEN. 
 
 Mrs. Selby laughed. 
 
 ' They live out of the world, and think 
 that they know best.' 
 
 ' Oh ! come now, mother, little mother,' 
 cried Horace. ' Come now ! When Aunt 
 Elizabeth has had ten children, she may 
 talk. Not till then.' 
 
 ' My dear boy, your aunt with ten chil- 
 dren ! Only fancy her dismay 1' 
 
 And her laugh was so merry that it 
 infected them every one. 
 
 'What is all this noise?' said Frank 
 himself, putting his head in at the door, 
 holding a palette and sheaf of brushes in 
 his hand. ' The old lady leading the riot 
 is something new. What is the joke?' 
 
 ' Here is Horace picturing your eldest 
 sister with ten children round her, naughty 
 boy.' 
 
 ' What children they would be !' cried 
 Frank, quite appreciating the joke. 'They 
 would be born at a dignified age, able
 
 TREGARTHEN. 67 
 
 to comport themselves correctly. Their 
 cradle would be a backboard, their earliest 
 walk a minuet. They would all have 
 Roman noses.' 
 
 ' 1 should like to see Aunt Elizabeth 
 dance a breakdown,' said Horace. 
 
 'Well, well,' said Frank, 'a joke is a 
 joke, but it should not go too far. Your 
 aunts mean well, after all. It is not their 
 fault that they have grown so prim. What 
 a life they lead, poor souls !' 
 
 'Why do they lead it, then?' sniffed 
 Dorothea. 
 
 ' Everybody knows their own way best, 
 my dear,' pleaded the gentle mother. 
 
 ' I was always different to them, my 
 dear,' said the father, ' an odd one in the 
 family, and a thorn in their sides. I 
 hark back to some former unknown mem- 
 ber of it, and have more lively blood in 
 me than they. T always did shock their 
 proprieties, and it is better to live apart, 
 
 F 2
 
 68 TREGARTHEN. 
 
 and agree to differ. I am very fond of 
 them, after all ; they are dear old souls, 
 and love us all in their OAvn way.' 
 
 ' A nasty, cold-hearted way,' muttered 
 Dorothea ; but it was not necessary to hear 
 her, so her grumblings were allowed to 
 pass. 
 
 Miss Rose Selby went to Tregarthen to 
 help Lady Sarah in her arduous task of 
 entertaining one young lady ; and Mrs. 
 Selby went on packing her ten children 
 into five bed-rooms and a cupboard. They 
 slept two in one bed, three and four in 
 one room. They slept on mattresses spread 
 on the floor ; took their meals out of doors 
 in fine weather ; and by detachments in 
 bad ditto; but they picked up health, and 
 were always cheerful and happy. 
 
 Mrs. Selby was not strong enough to do 
 much more than sit in the one easy-chair, 
 with little Desiree on her lap ; but they 
 put the chair out of doors, in the sun,
 
 TREGARTHEN. 69 
 
 every fine day. They rigged up an awn- 
 ino- over lier head with broom-handles and 
 cheap linen, roughly carpentered by the 
 boys, and she reclined there, in unaccus- 
 tomed idleness, watching the long Atlantic 
 breakers come rolling in, dashing upon 
 the quiet beach, foaming and sparkling in 
 beauty, regaining her strength steadily, if 
 slowly. 
 
 The Duchess May worked like a galley- 
 slave among them all ; the others sketched, 
 shrimped, lounged, each helping a little 
 in his or her own way. There was a great 
 deal of laughing and talking among them, 
 many innocent jokes, and much happiness 
 in a very unconventional manner. 
 
 Frank Selby himself was seized with an 
 inspiration, and began to paint his picture 
 of ' Waifs and Strays,' afterwards to be- 
 come so celebrated. It represented little 
 Stephen and Amanda, half naked, hand in 
 hand, wandering along that desolate sea-
 
 70 TREGARTHEN. 
 
 coast; stormy waves beside them, and a 
 stormy sky behind them, partially veil- 
 ing the rocky headland in mist. The 
 contrasts between the tender childhood 
 and rugged landscape, helpless babies 
 and stern Nature, warm flesh-tints and 
 cold rocks over which snow-white foam was 
 dashing, were extremely beautiful. 
 
 Frank, seized with enthusiasm over his 
 work, painted early and late upon it, 
 and it grew rapidly beneath his skilful 
 hand. 
 
 Horace ought to have been working 
 hard for the approaching Civil Service 
 examination ; he was destined for that, as 
 well as young Grenfell's tutor; but he 
 was one of those who had been ill, and 
 he found going out with his father, 
 sketching, much more to his taste than 
 reading mathematics. He had a very 
 pretty talent for art ; most of the children
 
 TREGARTHEN. 71 
 
 shoAved aptitude for it in one form or an- 
 other, and they lived in an atmosphere 
 which cultivated it. 
 
 Dorothea was, perhaps, the most ambiti- 
 ous and hard-working in that line. She 
 painted flowers with considerable skill, 
 and longed to succeed in the profession, 
 so as to avoid the life of a governess, 
 which was her only alternative, and for 
 which her hot temper and unguarded 
 tongue did not qualify her well. In this 
 country place she found a wealth of wild 
 flowers to draw from, and under her 
 father's tuition was making rapid pro- 
 gress. 
 
 Sir Theophilus and his son rode down 
 together one day to call, but found no one 
 at home except Mrs. Selby, who was lying 
 down. It was one of her bad days, her 
 head was aching severely, and she could 
 not see them. Mabel had sent everyone
 
 72 TREGARTHEN. 
 
 else out of the way, to keep the house 
 quiet; and though she was attending to 
 her mother, who was then asleep, she did 
 not think it necessary to appear. 
 
 'Ah! Sir Theophilus has called, I see,' 
 said Mr. Selby, on returning, and finding 
 that gentleman's card. ' I am sorry to 
 have missed him. Horace, the young man 
 has called too. You had better return 
 the visit with me.' 
 
 'Is it necessary, sir? These people are 
 not in our way at all, it must be a mere 
 formal civility on their part.' 
 
 ' Well, I used to know Sir Theophilus 
 very well at one time, and his sister. Lady 
 Courtney too. There is never any wisdom 
 in throwing away acquaintances who seem 
 willing to be friendly. The intimacy was 
 more with my sisters than with myself, 
 they were of the same ages as the elder 
 brothers and sisters who died.' 
 
 ' Were there not several ? and is there
 
 TREGARTHEX. 73 
 
 not some sad story about their deaths ?' 
 asked Mrs. Selby. 
 
 ' Yes, there was a large family of them 
 once, and very little probability of Sir 
 Theophilus succeeding to the inheritance. 
 The old Lady Grenfell, his mother, was a 
 very fine woman, too fine to look after 
 young children, and it did not work well 
 to leave them to hirelings. Two daughters, 
 sweet pretty girls, died in the same week, 
 just as they were nearly grown up. They 
 were always great friends of your two 
 eldest aunts. A fever broke out, earlier 
 than that, and two of the boys and another 
 sister had died of it ; and the second son 
 was thrown from his horse, on the carriage 
 drive which then ran close to the front of 
 the Hall, but was altered after that, for her 
 ladyship could not bear to look out on the 
 ])lace. James was killed actually before 
 her eyes. She never looked up again, 
 though she lived for some years, but it
 
 74 TREGARTHEN. 
 
 practically killed her. He was her fav- 
 ourite son.' 
 
 ' How very sad, poor creature !' sighed 
 Mrs. Selby. 
 
 ' Yes, it was a fearful chapter of acci- 
 dents. The two youngest children were 
 nursed by the wife of a miller, near the 
 sea, a Mrs. Rosewarne, a good motherly 
 creature, who did her duty by them very 
 thoroughly. They were a little older than 
 I, but used to be my playmates, all through 
 our growing up.' 
 
 ' Was not there something about a love- 
 affair with a miller's daughter ? Was it 
 that man's child?' asked Mrs. Selby. ' It 
 seems to me that I heard some such tale 
 once.' 
 
 ' Gossiping old lady ! Yes, there was. 
 The girl was very pretty, and Charles, the 
 eldest son, was very fond of her. Of 
 course it could not be allowed, and he was 
 packed off abroad. Nothing would serve
 
 TREGARTHEN. 75 
 
 him but having her brother to go with him, 
 as half valet, half companion, and his 
 father allowed it as some sort of compensa- 
 tion to the family for breaking off the 
 love-affair. I never knew all the particu- 
 lars ; but, about a year afterwards, the 
 poor fellow died abroad, and Rosewarne 
 brought him home in his coffin.' 
 * What became of the poor girl?' 
 ' Well, she was not a very nice sort of 
 girl, there was some awkward story about 
 her, I never knew exactly what. She dis- 
 appeared somehow. The old baronet was 
 liberal to young Rosewarne, and he set up 
 a house of call for gentlemen's servants, in 
 the mews behind St. James's Square, and 
 there he dwelleth still, to witness if I lie,' 
 concluded Frank. 
 
 ' Oh ! those are nurse's friends, are they 
 not ? They live in a place with quite a 
 poetical name. Apple Tree Court, or some 
 such thing,' cried Mabel.
 
 76 TREGARTHEN. 
 
 ' Yes, those are the people. I don't 
 think much of the man ; there is something 
 about him which I never liked, but his wife 
 is a good sort of woman, I believe. She is 
 a Withiel woman, and was in service at the 
 Hall in her youth.' 
 
 ' I like that poor daughter of hers,' said 
 Mabel. 
 
 ' I know you do. I don't think I ever 
 saw her, but I believe you have been very 
 kind to her.' 
 
 ' But, father,' said Horace, ' how came it 
 that you never saw anything of Sir Theo- 
 philus in town, when you used to know 
 him so well as a child ?' 
 
 ' Oh ! why, when he became a man of 
 importance, our lives took different courses. 
 We drifted apart. It never answers for 
 the copper pot and the earthen porringer 
 to float down the stream in comj^any. It 
 is apt to be bad for the porringer. I have 
 had plenty to think of else, and he is very
 
 TEEGARTHEN. 77 
 
 little in town, only conies up for a couple 
 of months in the season. Lady Sarah can 
 never drag him to London for longer than 
 that ; and I am generally rather busy just 
 then, you know.' 
 
 ' Great people have their troubles as 
 well as small ones,' said Mrs. Selby. ' How 
 thankful we ought to be that we have all 
 our children about us !' 
 
 ' Yes,' said Frank. ' They are like the 
 plagues of Egypt, but we don't want to be 
 rid of them at the cost of sending them to 
 wander about the desert just yet, do we, 
 Steenie boy ?' 
 
 He tossed the child up in the air, and 
 began a game of romps with him, which put 
 a stop to all further conversation.
 
 78 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 MISS AUGUSTA COURTNEY. 
 
 Miss Augusta Courtney arrived at Tre- 
 garthen one fine day, with all her Lares 
 and Penates. 
 
 Her cousin Charles had driven to the 
 nearest station to meet her, and safely 
 escorted her to the Hall, with her maid, 
 ■fifteen trunks, and her white poodle dog : 
 a most absurd creature, artistically shaved, 
 wearing a gold bangle upon one tufted 
 leg, and having the lock of hair upon his 
 brow tied up with crimson ribbon. 
 
 They drove in an open barouche, the
 
 TREGARTHEN. 79 
 
 weather being lovely, but the young lady 
 was smothered up in soft fur and white 
 woollen wraps, until very little of her 
 could be seen. 
 
 A cart followed, containing portman- 
 teaus, dress-baskets, trunks, bonnet-boxes, 
 and what not, — enough to stock a baggage 
 waggon. 
 
 ' Well, my dear,' said Lady Sarah, as her 
 son brought in the tall willowy figure, ' I 
 am glad to see you. I hope that you are 
 not much fatigued with your journey.' 
 
 ' Oh ! how kind of you ! Yes, I am tired 
 to death,' said the sweet languid voice. 
 ' It is such a journey ! And the dust has 
 been something fearful. And my head is 
 so weary with having my hair done up 
 for so many hours.' 
 
 ' You could have taken your hat off, my 
 dear.' 
 
 ' Yes, so I did, but I want my hair down, 
 and brushed, to soothe my nerves. Why
 
 80 TREGARTHEN. 
 
 don't girls wear their hair unbound now, 
 as they used to do in olden times. Robes 
 loosely flowing, hair as free, you know. 
 Oh ! the trammels of this nineteenth 
 century!' 
 
 Lady Sarah laughed. 
 
 ' Go up to your room, you silly girl, and 
 get rid of your trammels as soon as you 
 like. Hawken will see that your maid is 
 comfortable, and bring you some tea. We 
 dine at eight.' 
 
 ' She seems to be very much done up,' 
 said Miss Rose, as the new-comer de- 
 parted. 
 
 ' Oh ! she is not as much so as she seems 
 to be,' said Lady Sarah. ' Her mother spoils 
 them so. She has brought them up to 
 dread a crumpled rose-leaf.' 
 
 ' That is not her theory, mother,' laughed 
 Charles. ' She has been dilating all the 
 way from the station upon the dignity of 
 labour, and the privileges attached to the
 
 TREGARTHEX. 81 
 
 working classes, who deal with the realitit'S 
 of life. She made me feel quite small be- 
 cause I happen to be born a gentleman.' 
 
 ' So you ought to feel, you lazy boy. 
 Not even a trout caught to-day ! "What 
 did you do with yourself all the morning?' 
 
 • I was at hard mental work, mother. 
 I was fitting myself to entertain a young 
 lady of high intellectual culture, by 
 perusing Browning's poems. It was 
 necessary to he at full length under the 
 beech-trees, to support such an undertak- 
 ino^. and the o^reat fatiofue had to be re- 
 cruited by sleep.' 
 
 ' Go away, you are incorrigible ! Go and 
 perform the manual labour of putting 
 yourself ready for dinner. Rose, when 
 you go up to dress, would you be so very 
 kind as to see if Augusta has everything 
 which she wants ?' 
 
 ' Certainly, I will go at once.' 
 
 Miss Augusta was seated in comfort, 
 
 VOL. I. G
 
 82 TREGARTHEN. 
 
 in a loose wrapper, beside an open win- 
 dow. Roses scented the room from the 
 huge bowl of them beside her; her feet 
 were extended in the long chair on which 
 she rested ; a book lay open on her knees ; 
 tea was beside her on a little table, and 
 the maid was brushing the beautiful hair 
 which rippled over her shoulders. 
 
 ' Oh, how good of you to come. Miss 
 Selby,' she sighed. ' I have all I need, 
 thank you. This is repose. How sweet 
 to listen to that distant lark, sinking to his 
 rest.' 
 
 ' Will you feel equal to coming down to 
 dinner this evening?' 
 
 ' Yes, thanks very much. It would be 
 my duty to make the eiFort, and see Uncle 
 Theophilus. Charlie tells me that he was 
 obliged to attend the magistrates' meeting, 
 so he could not fetch me himself from the 
 station.' 
 
 ' No, he was very sorry.'
 
 TREGARTHEN. 83 
 
 ' Oh, it is of no manner of consequence. 
 I shall see him at dinner, I suppose. Miss 
 Selby, what is your opinion of Browning's 
 poems?' 
 
 ' I never read any of them,' said Miss 
 Rose, who, in fact, had never even heard 
 of them, for reading was not much in her 
 line. 
 
 'Never read any of them! Oh, how I 
 envy you ! You have all the pleasure of 
 making acquaintance with them yet to 
 come. What felicity !' 
 
 Miss Rose did not know what to say, so 
 wisely held her tongue. 
 
 ' That will do, Josephine,' said Miss 
 Augusta, rising from her chair. ' What 
 have you put out for me to wear this 
 evening?' 
 
 ' Just a white dress, miss. There is no 
 one here but the family. I thought you 
 might perhaps relieve it with a simple 
 cluster of these roses.' 
 
 g2
 
 84 TREGARTHEN. 
 
 ' No, they are too full blown. Get me 
 some pale tea-rose buds, not more than 
 half-open. Full-blown roses are so vulgar, 
 are they not. Miss Selby ? Common people 
 always wear them.' 
 
 Miss Rose thought of her niece, and the 
 wild roses in her hat, with renewed dis- 
 pleasure of poor Mabel. It had never oc- 
 curred to her before that there could be 
 any vulgarity in natural flowers, but she 
 saw it plainly now, and blushed at the 
 remembrance of her niece's bad taste. It 
 had been her own intention to relieve her 
 well-worn black grenadine dress by a 
 pretty knot of pink roses, and had them 
 lying, duly prepared, upon the toilet-table 
 in her own room ; but they would not do 
 now that her eyes were opened to her 
 mistake. 
 
 ' If I can do nothing for you. Miss 
 Courtney, I will leave you to dress,' said 
 she.
 
 TREGARTHEN. 85 
 
 ' Thanks, very much, it was so kind of 
 you to come. No, Josephine, put those 
 ornaments away. You know that I never 
 wear jewelry in the country, it does not 
 harmonise with its freshness and sim- 
 plicity. Do the sweet wild birds deck 
 themselves with rings and chains ? You 
 should always follow nature as closely as 
 possible. It is a fundamental rule in dress, 
 remember.' 
 
 Miss Letitia had lent her best pink topaz 
 brooch to her sister, and Miss Rose had 
 meant to have clasped her lace with it 
 that evening, but nothing would have in- 
 duced her to wear it after that. Yet did 
 the poor lady feel a little perplexed as to 
 the manner in which she should set off her 
 poor old dinner dress, as she retired to put 
 it on. 
 
 She sighed as she locked the brooch 
 away again, and looked at the roses which 
 she had arranged so prettily. Buds did
 
 86 TREGARTHEN. 
 
 not look nearly so well among lier black 
 lace, but she hoped that they were the 
 correct thing, according to the highest 
 verdict. 
 
 Miss Augusta was an extremely elegant 
 figure, as she swept into the drawing-room 
 in her freshness and simplicity ; but the 
 good lady could not but feel puzzled as 
 to where nature ought to be followed and 
 where abandoned. The sweet wild birds 
 certainly did not deck themselves out with 
 soft filmy laces, with artistically piled 
 hair, with elaborately simple draperies, 
 any more than with jewelry. 
 
 Good sense came to her rescue. 
 
 ' I can never manage to alter any gown 
 I possess so as to look like that,' thought 
 she. ' Perhaps I had better not attempt 
 London fashions at all. But I could tie 
 some black velvet ribbon like that throat- 
 let, at any rate.' 
 
 ' We have some new pictures since you
 
 TREGARTHEN. 87 
 
 ■were here last, Augusta,' said Charles, as 
 they waited for dinner to be announced. 
 'Here is a landscape byVicat Cole. A 
 pretty bit, is it not ? And look at these 
 cherubs ! Are they not lovely ?' 
 
 ' Surely that is a Selby ?' remarked the 
 young lady. ' It is just in his sweet style. 
 He has such a lovely thing in the Academy 
 this year ; the " Invalid." ' 
 
 ' Ah ! that reminds me. Rose,' said Sir 
 Theophilus. ' I called on your brother 
 yesterday, and was sorry not to find him 
 at home.' 
 
 ' Oh, Miss Selby! Is the artist really 
 your brother ? It never occurred to me. 
 How very interesting ! I have wished so 
 much to know something about him. He 
 is never to be met with in town. It is said 
 that he is quite devoted to his art, and will 
 not go into society at all.' 
 
 ' No, my brother has ten excellent 
 reasons for living quietly and not being
 
 88 TREGARTHEN. 
 
 called from his work by fashionable 
 society.' 
 
 ' Ten reasons ! Do you mean ten chil- 
 dren ? How very charming ! Now you 
 can tell me, Miss Selby. Is that sweet 
 '^ Invalid " painted from his wife or from 
 a common model? Major Granby argued 
 with me. I said that it could be painted 
 from no common woman, and he said that 
 he knew the original was a model who sat 
 to an artist at half-a-crown an hour, and 
 walked home afterwards in a green velvet 
 hat trimmed with red roses.' 
 
 ' Major Granby was wrong, then. The 
 picture in the Academy this year is a 
 portrait of Mrs. Selby, with her youngest 
 infant. She has been ill since its birth. 
 That picture of the cherubs was painted 
 from two of the other children. They are 
 all nice-looking, and my brother often uses 
 one and another of them as models.' 
 
 Miss Rose felt a little reflected honour
 
 TREGARTHEN. 89 
 
 shedding a mild glory over her, in an un- 
 usual manner, upon finding out how Miss 
 Courtney regarded ' poor Frank.' 
 
 ' How I should like to know him, and 
 to see them all I Aunt Sarah, is it not 
 possible for me to meet them while I am 
 here?' 
 
 ' Yes, yes, certainly, my love,' said Sir 
 Theophilus. ' We are having a dinner- 
 party next Thursday ; send Mr. Selby a 
 card, my dear. Augusta, remind your 
 aunt in the morning ; I should like a chat 
 with him very much.' 
 
 ' Oh, trust to me, uncle ; I will write it 
 myself. But the ten children could not all 
 come to dine here too, and I must see them.' 
 
 'They are jolly looking children, I can 
 assure you,' said Charles. ' I saw some 
 of them one day. Miss Rose, may I not 
 drive you and Augusta down one after- 
 noon ? You would like to see your 
 brother, and perhaps Mrs. Selby would
 
 90 TREGAETHEN. 
 
 give US a cup of tea, to save Augusta from 
 being over-tired.' 
 
 ' A very nice plan,' said Sir Theophilus. 
 ' A very good thought, Charlie. I am sure 
 my old friend Frank will be glad to see 
 you, and his wife too.' 
 
 ' They are living in a very quiet way 
 at Polzeath,' said Miss Rose, in secret con- 
 sternation at this proposal. 
 
 Extremely proud, and as ignorant of 
 the world as she was proud, she had no 
 idea of the light in which a successful 
 artist Avas regarded, and was divided be- 
 tween pleasure that her brother's family 
 should be recognized at all, in any man- 
 ner, and fear as to how they would com- 
 port themselves beneath the ordeal. 
 
 'Augusta will not mind that,' said 
 Charles. ' Everyone knows what sea-side 
 lodgings are, and nobody makes any fuss 
 over a cup of tea.' 
 
 ' You must take my card for me, my
 
 TREGARTHEN. 91 
 
 love,' said Lady Sarah. ' I have not the 
 pleasure of knowing Mrs. Selby.' 
 
 This settled the matter with Miss Rose. 
 That her ladyship should send her card 
 voluntarily, that the visit should take 
 place upon such lines of dignity, seemed 
 to her an honour to Mabel, to her brother, 
 to their whole family, which must not be 
 lost to them. 
 
 Dinner was here announced, and the 
 conversation turned to other subjects, to 
 which the poor lady could pay no atten- 
 tion, so busy was her mind in debating 
 how she could manage for the best ap- 
 pearance to be made. Mabel must be 
 duly warned of the honour impending ; it 
 would never do for Miss Courtney to de- 
 scend upon her without preparation. Sup- 
 pose she were set down to thick bread and 
 butter, and tea without milk, in that un- 
 tidy parlour, with the smell of magilp and 
 wet paint reeking in the air !
 
 92 TREGARTHEN. 
 
 The subject was again referred to before 
 they retired for the night. 
 
 ' Your people would not really mind our 
 driving down, Miss Rose, would they?' 
 asked Charles. 
 
 ' Oh ! no, it would be a great pleasure,' 
 said she, untruthfully. 
 
 ' Then how would the day after to- 
 morrow suit?' asked he. 'Augusta seems 
 to be so tired after her journey that she 
 had better have a day of rest first ; but we 
 really want her to be amused in a quiet 
 way, and this seems to be just the thing 
 for her.' 
 
 • ' Quite so,' said Miss Rose, relieved that 
 she had one day of grace. 
 
 She went to the housekeeper, and held 
 a secret conclave with her. She and Mrs. 
 Symons were always on the best of terms, 
 and the good woman now quite compre- 
 hended the difficulty, and promised every 
 assistance.
 
 TREGARTHEN. 93 
 
 Next morning she walked early to 
 see her sisters, and secure their aid in 
 putting the best foot foremost on this 
 important occasion. 
 
 ' My dear Rose,' cried Miss Selby, as 
 she sat down among them, ' is that young 
 lady come to stay for all the rest of her 
 life ? We saw her luggage go by. Were 
 all those packages and boxes hers ?' 
 
 ' Yes, she does not seem to think the 
 quantity at all unreasonable. But she 
 needs five changes of dress every day, I 
 hear, so a good many boxes are necessary.' 
 
 ' Five changes a day ? Xever, surely ?' 
 
 ' Yes, I believe so.' 
 
 ' Why, she can do nothing else than 
 pull her gowns off and on !' 
 
 ' Her maid does that, and her mistress 
 reads poetry the while. You never saw 
 such elegance, sisters. It all looks so 
 simple and girlish that no one would think 
 of the cost of it all ; but my opinion is
 
 t)4 TREGAKTHEN. 
 
 that there is nothing more expensive than 
 simplicity, particularly artistic simplicity. 
 You should have seen her last night; all 
 was in such good taste, and looked so 
 simple that it was only by degrees that a 
 woman could have realized the thought 
 and study and money which it must have 
 cost. Everything had an air of freshness 
 that is very charming ; it does one good 
 to see so many pretty things for one while. 
 She wears scarcely any jewelry except 
 rings, only real flowers, and it is beautiful 
 to see how unconscious she is of her 
 fineries. They seem to be a part of her- 
 self She twisted a black lace mantilla 
 over her head and around her shoulders 
 last night, with a cast of her arm, and 
 strolled over the grass and the gravel, in 
 her exquisitely worked Indian muslin 
 dinner-dress, talking of poetry and art 
 w^ith Charles as if she had not twenty or
 
 TREGARTHEN. 95 
 
 thirty pounds' worth of lace alone on her 
 back.' 
 
 ' I am thinking, Rose, of your things. 
 How will you manage there with your one 
 black silk gown and one grenadine dinner- 
 dress ?' 
 
 ' Oh ! it does not matter for me, you 
 know. I am not destined to charm the 
 heir. Xobody notices me, and Lady Sarah 
 knows quite well what we can afford and 
 what we cannot. She does not do like 
 this herself, though she has smartened 
 herself up a little since her niece came. 
 There is going to be a grand dinner-party 
 next week, and I shall tell her ladyship 
 that you want me at home that evening, 
 and only appear in the evening, though 
 Frank is to be invited. I must try to put 
 some sort of gown together for the garden- 
 party, and that partly brought me over 
 this morning, to consult with you about
 
 96 TKEGARTHEN. 
 
 it. Do you think that you could get 
 Rebecca Pascoe in to do the sewing, and 
 fit up my old dove-coloured silk with 
 nun's veiling, or something cheap ? We 
 are to drive to Polzeath to-morrow, and to 
 Bedruthan the day after, and I am wanted 
 to chaperone.' 
 
 ' We will do our best, dear,' said Miss 
 Selby ; ' but Polzeath ! Will they go to 
 the house ? I wish we could let Mabel 
 know ! What will she do ? They will all 
 certainly be at sixes and sevens, and no- 
 thing can be bought there at a moment's 
 notice !' 
 
 ' Yes, I must say that I felt vexed when 
 Miss Courtney discovered that our brother 
 was the artist, and expressed such a desire 
 to make his acquaintance. It seems that 
 poor Frank's picture of Mabel and D^siree 
 is thought something out of the common, 
 and my young lady is crazy to see the 
 originals — the woman, she says, that half
 
 TREGARTHEN. 97 
 
 London is in love with. I could not help 
 it. Sir Theophilus himself said that Charles 
 should drive us over, and to-morrow is the 
 only convenient day for a week. I went 
 to Mrs. Symons, and the good creature 
 was ready to help at once, as she always 
 is. " It will only be afternoon tea, Miss 
 Rose," said she, " and Matthews shall 
 drive down in the pony- cart this evening, 
 and take some fruit and cream." I thought 
 that you and Letitia would like to take 
 advantage of the opportunity to drive 
 there too ; and you might take flowers, 
 and lend our silver. Everything in that 
 house is so very common.' 
 
 ' Mabel ought to know beforehand, cer- 
 tainly,' said Miss Selby. ' Frank will 
 have the little ones without decent clothes 
 on their backs else, or something equally 
 dreadful. We will go. Rose. What time 
 will Matthews call for us ?' 
 
 ' Not till about four or five o'clock. 1 
 
 VOL. I. K
 
 98 TREGARTHEN. 
 
 settled that, because I thought that you 
 could have an early tea first, and you 
 would need a little time to pack up the 
 things, and cut the flowers.' 
 
 ' And it will be pleasantly cool by that 
 time, too. We will go, Rose.'
 
 99 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 hujNIBle visiti:ng. 
 
 Meantime, festivity of a different style 
 was on foot among the party at Polzeath 
 on the next day. 
 
 Mrs. Selby's nurse, a valued and con- 
 fidential woman, who had lived with her 
 ever since she was married, and nursed 
 all the children, had a friend in London 
 who came from this neighbourhood; in 
 fact, the Mrs. Rosewarne before alluded 
 to. This woman had desired some rela- 
 tions of hers, in the village near Polzeath, 
 to show every hospitality to Mrs. Nurse, 
 and an invitation to tea was the result. 
 
 H 2
 
 100 TREGARTHEN. 
 
 Nurse loved all the young people as if 
 they were her own. She was proud of 
 their talents, their beauty, their merry 
 spirits, and thought no children were ever 
 like them. Out of them all, perhaps, she 
 was most proud of Stephen and Amanda, 
 who were certainly lovely children. Every- 
 body admired them, particularly little 
 Stephen, who had a look of heaven about 
 his large blue eyes, which caused many a 
 person to remark, ' The Selbys will never 
 rear that child.' Whenever Frank heard 
 this he always laughed, though somewhat 
 uneasily, and declared Steenie to be 'a 
 pickle.' 
 
 ' The child is a thorough impostor,' he 
 would say. ' That angelic look is a cover 
 for all the wickedness under the sun. If 
 any outrageous mischief is done in the 
 house, I always ask first, " Where is the 
 dear cherub ?" He is sure to be at the 
 bottom of it.'
 
 TREGAHTHEN. 101 
 
 Xathless, if Frank Selby had a favourite 
 child among his quiver-full, that child was 
 well known to be Steenie. Steenie's little 
 hand was the most often clasped in his ; 
 at Steenie's cot he lingered the longest 
 upon his nightly pilgrimage among the 
 sleeping little ones ; upon his broad shoulder 
 was Steenie most frequently hoisted for a 
 ride down stairs. 
 
 Once he painted the child in the anns of 
 an angel, floating, among gathering shades, 
 towards the evening star. Mrs. Selby saw 
 it, half-completed, and burst into tears 
 upon observing the wistful pathos of those 
 beautiful eyes, looking backwards towards 
 earth, over the angel's shoulder. 
 
 ' How could you do it, Frank !' cried 
 she. ' How could you, how could you !' 
 
 Frank dashed the canvas across the 
 studio, and comforted her. 
 
 ' You shall not be vexed, wifie,' said he. 
 * I will never finish it.'
 
 102 TREGARTHEN. 
 
 Nor did he. But his inconsistent wifie 
 gathered it up, put it away among her 
 most cherished treasures, and — never looked 
 at it again. 
 
 This had happened two years before, but 
 Steenie still preserved much of that re- 
 markable look, and his face was as beauti- 
 ful as ever. 
 
 Wherever he went, Amanda trotted after 
 him like a little dog ; — a pretty contrast 
 to her brother, for she was round, dimpled , 
 and rosy, the picture of healthy childish 
 loveliness, which aroused no tremors at all 
 regarding her health. 
 
 Nurse was anxious to take the children 
 with her to this tea-party, partly to show 
 them off, partly that her own absence for 
 the afternoon might be less missed by her 
 mistress. The young ladies would set 
 the tea at home, and take care of the baby. 
 
 Mrs. Selby gave ready permission ; and 
 the donkey-cart, which was going to the
 
 TREGARTHEX. 103 
 
 town for stores that the village shop 
 could not yield, would convey the three 
 to Captain Brunton's house, and bring 
 them back again later in the day. 
 
 A happy party they were, as they pre- 
 pared to set forth, and all the family 
 gathered at the gate to see them depart. 
 
 Nurse had dressed her darlings in their 
 best clothes, to set them off to advantage ; 
 Steenie appeared in all the glory of his 
 clean white sailor suit, and broad-brimmed 
 straw hat, set far back upon his clustering 
 curls ; while Amanda looked like a little 
 fresh rose-bud, in her delicate print frock, 
 and wide pale pink sash. 
 
 They were lifted into the cart first ; and, 
 seated side by side, the fond old woman 
 regarded them with sinful exultation, dis- 
 played by sundry sniffs and coughs of vast 
 significance to attract the attention of her 
 mistress, to whom she winked and signed 
 to admire them.
 
 104 TREGARTHEN. 
 
 ' A proper lad, b'aint he, ma'am,' said 
 she, as Steenie kicked at the cart in im- 
 patience to start ; for he had the whip and 
 reins in his hands, and meant to drive. 
 
 ' Make haste, nurse,' cried he. ' Jenny 
 won't stand. Don't dawdle. Mamma ! 
 please don't hinder her.' 
 
 Mrs. Selby laughed, and bent down to 
 kiss the sweet face of her little girl, craned 
 up to meet her embrace. 
 
 ' Dood-bye, mamma,' she said, ' dood- 
 bye, sisters, dood-bye all.' And she waved 
 a tiny hand. 
 
 ' Good-bye, my pet ; be a good little 
 maid.' 
 
 ' Yes, mamma, me be a dood itty maid. 
 Gee up, Steenie.' 
 
 Mr. Stephen gee'd up, and off they went, 
 jolting over the sand, turning a corner, 
 and mounting the long steep hill, where 
 wreaths of honey-suckle hung in fragrant 
 masses from the high hedges, and the
 
 TREGARTHEN. 1 05 
 
 fragile wild roses had cast their dainty- 
 petals on every side. Butterflies spread 
 their richly-hued wings to the sun, as they 
 rested on pearly and rose-hued bramble 
 flowers ; and bees hummed busily over 
 many a wayside plant and bush of 
 blossoming ivy. 
 
 Red plums and luscious pears were 
 ripening against the stone walls of the 
 cottages ; and, in the gardens without, 
 thrift and lavender, spicy clove pinks 
 and stately lilies grew among fruit-trees 
 and scarlet beans. 
 
 All lay, blazing with colour, beneath the 
 glowing beams of the afternoon sun, as 
 the donkey-cart, with its joyous load, drew 
 up at the gate of the house where dwelt 
 the host, — a retired sea-captain of the 
 homely type, — who stood there to receive 
 them. 
 
 ' Well, sir,' said he, ' you've come then. 
 I be right glad to see 'ee, and the little
 
 106 TREGARTHEN. 
 
 miss, too. Mrs. Brown, your servant,, 
 ma'am.' 
 
 He helped them all out, and led them 
 into the house, where his wife, in her best 
 black silk gown, had made preparations, 
 in the most hospitable style^ for the 
 entertainment of the guests whose visit 
 was so great a pride and delight to her. 
 
 A party of her most select friends had 
 been invited to meet Mrs. Brown from Lon- 
 don town, and the little lady and gentle- 
 man, the fame of whose beauty had al- 
 ready reached them, and whom they were 
 prepared to admire sufficiently even to 
 satisfy their nurse's exorbitant demands 
 in that line. 
 
 But Steenie had no idea of standing still 
 in a stuiFy little hot parlour, to be flattered 
 by a set of old women. As soon as he had 
 looked at the stuffed birds, the flying fish, 
 the albatross's bill, and the foreign shells, 
 etc., which ornamented the room, he was
 
 TREGAKTHEX. 107 
 
 eager to go out. He slipped his hand into 
 the brown hard one of the old sailor. 
 
 ' I want to see your pigs, sir,' said he. 
 
 ' And so 'ee shall, my son,' replied the 
 delighted old fellow, taking him off. 
 
 Poor Amanda gazed after their retreating 
 fio^ures with wistful looks. She would fain 
 have gone to see the pigs too; she was 
 never easy without being where Steenie 
 was, but the most genteel of the visitors 
 had taken her upon her knee, and was 
 praising her curls and her eyes, and ask- 
 ing her questions which seemed to her 
 very tiresome and stupid, though her 
 sense of good manners forbade her to 
 betray her impatience. 
 
 She sat on the good lady's knee, bolt 
 upright, glancing this way and that for 
 escape, much as one may often see a cat, 
 suffering from unwelcome attentions ; not 
 responding in the least to her admirer's hug- 
 c^ino^ and kissino-. She heard her brother's
 
 108 TREGARTHEN. 
 
 voice in eager discussion with the captain ; 
 she heard the peals of laughter, the bluff 
 hearty tones of the man's voice alternating 
 with the shrill treble of the child's ; — 
 something very delightful was proceeding 
 between them, and here was she, obliged 
 to ' behave prettily,' and answer this silly 
 old woman's foolish questions. 
 
 ' And who made this pretty frock for you, 
 my dear ?' 
 
 ' Nurse, ma'am.' 
 
 ' And does nurse make these long curls, 
 too, for you ?' 
 
 ' Yes, ma'am.' 
 
 ' And who gave you these big blue eyes, 
 my pretty?' 
 
 ' God, ma'am.' 
 
 Her listeners were taken aback by the 
 literal answer, rebuking their folly in its 
 innocence ; but Amanda could not bear 
 much more. After being pressed again 
 closely in the good lady's arms, and kissed
 
 TEEGAETHEX. 109 
 
 till she felt uncomfortably hot, she gasped — 
 seeino^ no help for her escape — 
 
 ' Oh ! put me clown, please^ for Jesus' 
 sake, amen !' 
 
 The women looked at each other, startled 
 yet amused. Xurse came to the rescue, 
 and the little maid was freed to run away 
 to the more wholesome company of the 
 old captain, her brother, and the pigs. 
 
 She found Steenie bestriding the old 
 sow, and vainly attempting to ride it, 
 while the creature preferred lying down 
 to bask in the mud. His white garments 
 betrayed the marks of frequent falls in 
 the attempt; but, nothing daunted by that, 
 Amanda would have eagerly joined in the 
 sport had not the captain proposed a ride 
 in his ' one wheeled carriage ' instead, and 
 introduced her to his large wheelbarrow, 
 wherein, seated on an old sack side by 
 side, he drove the happy children up and 
 down the lane to their hearts' content.
 
 110 TREGARTHEN. 
 
 He lifted them up in turns to gather red 
 quarrendon apples from the tree for them- 
 selves ; he took them to see the bees work- 
 ing in the hive ; he presented them with 
 portions of a wasp's nest, and showed them 
 the big hole in the hedge from which it 
 had been dug ; he pointed to the wall 
 where they might see the swallow sitting 
 on her second brood of young ones ; he 
 let them gather fruit for themselves and 
 to ' take home to mamma.' There w^as no 
 end to the delights of this visit. 
 
 They were unwilling to come in for tea, 
 though the gooseberry pasties with cream, 
 and the currant ' nobbies,' were by no 
 means to be despised. There was a wail 
 when nurse announced it was time to 
 prepare for going home, and the donkey- 
 cart loomed in sight. 
 
 ' But we may come again, mayn't we, 
 captain ?' asked Steenie. 
 
 ' Surely, surely, sir. I'll be rare and
 
 TREGARTHEN. Ill 
 
 glad to see 'ee whenever Mrs. Brown will 
 bring 'ee.' 
 
 Amanda put her soft little arms round 
 the old man's neck, and gave him a good 
 hug as he lifted her into the cart. 
 
 ' And now you can see me drive !' cried 
 Steenie, setting off full tilt. 
 
 'Master Steenie, Master Steenie!' ex- 
 claimed nurse, ' you'll upset us ; don't go 
 so fast. Master Steenie — oh, oh, oh !' 
 
 She might as well have called to the 
 wind; Master Steenie stood up in front, 
 wild with excitement, shouting to the 
 donkey, flourishing his whip, and inciting 
 the creature to put forth its greatest speed. 
 The hill was steep, the road downwards ; 
 Steenie had taken them all by surprise 
 with his sudden start, and left the proper 
 owner of the vehicle behind; he came 
 racing after, calling to the animal, which, 
 frightened by the cries and feeling the cart 
 upon its haunches, galloped faster than ever
 
 112 TREGARTHEN. 
 
 till, at a turn in the road, the wheel went 
 up into the hedge and upset the whole 
 freight. 
 
 Out went nurse, sprawling, scolding, 
 and terrified; out went Steenie, to have 
 his enthusiasm cooled in the stream that 
 ran by the roadside ; out went Amanda, 
 with her head in the basket of raspberries, 
 the captain's parting gift to her ; out went 
 parcels and packages of every description, 
 all over the road, and the donkey kicked 
 and tugged in vain to free himself from the 
 impedimenta. 
 
 For a moment nurse's wrath was si- 
 lenced by a sick horror, for Amanda lay, 
 as if insensible, on the road, and the crim- 
 son pool around her had the most grue- 
 some appearance of blood. She thought 
 the child was killed, and was speechless 
 with terror; but the next minute the little 
 girl, recovering herself, sat up, with crushed 
 raspberries sticking all over her, and began
 
 TREGARTHEN. 113 
 
 to howl lustily. Steenie arose from the 
 stream, with a great rent in the seat of his 
 knickerbockers, whence a long rag of shirt 
 hung fluttering, plastered with mucl and 
 green stains from head to foot, half in- 
 clined to cry too, for he was a good deal 
 shaken, yet wanting to be manly at the 
 same time. Roguish excitement not yet 
 wholly quenched, danced in his mischiev- 
 ous, laughing eyes, yet a look of depre- 
 cation of the scolding he expected sobered 
 him somewhat, while he was soaked from 
 head to foot, water running off him in all 
 directions. _ 
 
 Up came the donkey's owner, up ran 
 the captain ; in the distance might be seen 
 the old sailor's wife and her company 
 hurrying to the scene of misfortune; and, 
 at the same moment, up dashed the pony- 
 carriage from Tregarthen, with the spick 
 and span groom driving, and the two Miss 
 Selbys sitting up in state. 
 
 VOL. I. I
 
 114 TREGARTHEN. 
 
 Nurse began to revenge herself for her 
 alarm by scolding. She took Steenie by 
 the shoulder, and shook him in her indig- 
 nation, holding Amanda under her other 
 arm, roaring, her legs kicking behind her. 
 
 ' You naughty, naughty boy !' she raved, 
 ' you might have killed yourself and your 
 little sister — that you might — and you'll 
 catch your death of cold now, as like as 
 not : you're wet to the skin. Only look 
 at him, ma'am ! And his best clothes, — 
 and Miss Amy — her new frock and sash 
 — spoiled, sir — ruined, ma'am. Did ever 
 anyone see such a child in their lives- 
 making the donkey run away like that 1 
 Oh ! you bad boy — if ever I take you out 
 with me again ! That's all.' 
 
 The Miss Selbys were as righteously in- 
 dignant as she. How well that this had 
 not happened next day, when Miss Court- 
 ney and Mr. Charles Grenfell might have 
 been passing ! How providential it was
 
 TREGARTHEN. 115 
 
 that they had come to prepare, and give 
 notice ! The cajDtain was sorry that the 
 child's pride and pleasure should have 
 come to grief so suddenly ; his wife was 
 afraid that the little ones were hurt, or 
 would take cold ; but the Tregarthen 
 groom, being young, had the greatest dif- 
 ficulty in repressing a burst of laughter, 
 for he had a strong sense of the ludicrous, 
 and the whole scene was so absurd. 
 
 Xurse caught the lurking grin on his 
 face, which turned the tide of her wrath 
 upon him. Could he do nothing but sit 
 there, grinning like a Cheshire cat? Why 
 did he not oiFer to drive them home before 
 the shakes took hold of the child? Could 
 he not be of some good in his useless life ? 
 Oh ! that she was back in London again, 
 where nothing of this sort ever could 
 happen ! 
 
 Rebuked, and by a great effort regain- 
 ing his good manners, Matthews produced 
 
 i2
 
 116 TKEGAKTHEN. 
 
 a rug in which he wrapped the little boy, 
 taking him between his knees, and making 
 room for nurse by his side. Her aunts 
 received Amanda into the comforting folds 
 of a large woollen shawl, the captain whis- 
 pered to Steenie, ' Never mind, sir, no 
 great harm done ; better luck next time,' 
 and the party started again, though in 
 much lower spirits than before, Matthews 
 tipping a knowing wink at the captain, 
 with a half glance towards nurse, to which 
 the sailor slyly responded. 
 
 Thus they reached Polzeath, greatly 
 subdued, and the children were put to 
 bed at once. 
 
 Mabel stole up to their bedsides, and 
 gave them hot milk, and sugar upon their 
 bread and butter, which was a great com- 
 fort to them. After partaking of this, 
 sleep soon ended their troubles. If the 
 Duchess did not scold, no great sense of 
 guilt oppressed their little hearts.
 
 117 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 PREPARATION. 
 
 After seeing the children in bed and 
 comfortable, the Duchess descended to 
 the sitting-room, and found the conclave 
 assembled. 
 
 Dorothea was looking like a thunder- 
 cloud; Horace quizzical; her mother ner- 
 vous; her father twiddling the spade 
 guinea which hung at the end of his 
 watch-chain, in the iidgetty manner that 
 she knew so well as indicating that he 
 wanted to be free for work, while his 
 present company prevented his escape.
 
 118 TREGARTHEN. 
 
 Miss Selby turned to her upon her 
 entrance. 
 
 ' I am telling your mother, my dear, that 
 Miss Augusta Courtney wishes to make 
 your father's acquaintance, and to see you 
 all ; so Mr. Grenfell will drive her and 
 your Aunt Rose over to-morrow to tea, and 
 that we do, most sincerely, trust to you all 
 for having things neat and proper, to re- 
 ceive them. Do not, I beg of you, allow 
 such an exposure to take place as occurred 
 this evening, but try to preserve the family 
 credit in such eyes as those.' 
 
 ' It was an accident this evening, auntie,' 
 said Mabel, glancing from one to the other. 
 ' Indeed, we could not help it.' 
 
 ' The poor children need not have been 
 in low company, my dear,' replied her aunt^ 
 severely. 
 
 Mabel coloured high, but held her tongue. 
 Not so Dorothea. 
 
 ' If you Avill kindly write down a list of
 
 TREGARTHEX. 119 
 
 your objections and your requirements, 
 aunt, we will take them into consideration,' 
 said she, ' but I may plainly tell you, be- 
 forehand, that ive think our father and cur 
 mother the best judges of what their own 
 children shall do, and the company they 
 should keep.' 
 
 The grin on Horace's face became widei', 
 and he turned to the window to hide it. 
 
 ' Well, well, my dear,' remonstrated 
 Frank. ' Your aunt means well, don't be 
 a little spitfire. You express yourself too 
 vehemently.' 
 
 ' Papa ! If the family credit is not kept 
 up enough by your being at the head of 
 it, I am sorry for the family, that's all !' 
 
 Mrs. Selby's remonstrating eyes turned 
 towards her eldest daughter's face, and 
 the Duchess answered the mute appeal. 
 
 ' Aunt Letitia,' said she, ' do you feel 
 rested enough to come out to mamma's 
 seat outside, and see the tide coming in?'
 
 120 TREGARTIIEN. 
 
 ' Thank you, dear,' said Miss Letitia. 
 
 Horace sprang to assist her in rising, and 
 gave her his arm. 
 
 ' Come, Dolly,' said her sister ; and the 
 four moved away. 
 
 Gentle Miss Letitia hesitated for a few 
 moments, then said, 
 
 ' Don't be vexed with your Aunt Eliza- 
 beth, dears. The family at Tregarthen 
 are very kind to all of us, and have been 
 our friends all our lives. It is a little 
 matter to please their guest now, you will 
 help us kindly, won't you?' 
 
 ' Yes, yes, aunt. Dolly never meant 
 that she would not. We will all do our 
 best, depend upon it. Trust to us.' 
 
 ' I will stand upon my head to amuse 
 the girl, if you like,' said Horace. 
 
 'Now, Horry, you are to be sensible,' 
 said the Duchess. ' He will be good, 
 aunt. I will answer for them both. Their 
 bark is always worse than their bite. Let
 
 TREGARTHEN. 121 
 
 them talk, they will act as you would 
 wish.' 
 
 ' I do trust to you, Mabel. You seem to 
 have a great deal of common-sense. Do 
 make your father look nice. He is such a 
 fine-looking man if he does himself jus- 
 tice ; and don't let him talk nonsense which 
 people do not understand.' 
 
 ' We will vealJy attend to your wishes, 
 aunt dear,' said Horace, softened by her 
 evident anxiety. ' Father shall talk like 
 the Lord Chief Justice, and I will be no 
 more of a fool than I am made. Depend 
 upon it that all will go rightly. Dolly 
 will be good, or I will shake her myself.' 
 
 Dorothea made a moue at him ; but, as 
 she stood behind her aunt, it was a relief 
 to her feelings which did no harm. 
 
 ' Elizabeth made a batch of sponge-cake 
 for you, with her own hands, this morning, 
 when she heard that they were going to 
 have tea here to-morrow. She has a very
 
 122 TREGARTHEN. 
 
 light hand for sponge-cake, and would 
 make it herself so that it should be good, 
 and I know that she is very tired.' 
 
 ' It is extremely kind of her,' said Mabel. 
 
 ' And she has brought down all the old 
 family silver, of which she is so careful 
 generally. Do take care that the best 
 tea-pot does not become dinted. And 
 we have done all we can else to help. 
 Rose got a beautiful hamper of fruit for 
 you, and will bring fresh cream to- 
 morrow.' 
 
 ' We are really very grateful, aunt, and 
 you need not be anxious. Mamma and 
 we all will do our very best to satisfy you.' 
 
 ' Our level best,' echoed Horace. 
 
 Dorothea had moved a little away, and 
 stood looking down upon the foaming 
 waves, with her teeth set, and her fingers 
 tightly laced together. 
 
 Miss Selby appeared. 
 
 ' Come, Letitia, it will be very late
 
 TREGARTHEN. 123 
 
 before we reach home, and Matthews is 
 ready. Good-night, my dears. Mabel, do 
 remember what I have said.' 
 
 ' Yes, aunt, I have promised,' said she. 
 
 The phaeton drove off, and the family 
 drew unanimously a breath of relief. 
 
 ' Well !' sighed Horace. ' We are in for 
 it.' 
 
 ' In for what?' asked his father. ' It is 
 only a bo}' and girl who want an excuse 
 for a drive and a cup of tea. I don't see 
 any reason for all this fuss. I have lost 
 all that lovely sunset glow upon the cliff 
 opposite.' 
 
 He walked off, and the twin boys ran 
 after him, to stroll along the edge of the 
 waves. Felicia and Evangeline went to 
 bed ; then out were poured the vials of 
 Dorothea's wrath. 
 
 ' I never heard of greater impertinence!' 
 cried she. ' I cannot bear father to be 
 stuck up for a pack of insolent fine people
 
 124 TREGARTHEN. 
 
 to stare at, as if he were a wax image in 
 Madame Tussaud's. Mamma ! how can 
 you bear it?' 
 
 ' My love, it is not worth minding,' said 
 her mother. ' Your father could bear 
 worse than this, and it will please his 
 sisters.' 
 
 ' What do his sisters do to please him ? 
 What do they do for you, mamma? What 
 business have they to treat us all like a 
 raree show, because father paint s so well ? 
 These foolish fine folks ought to be con- 
 tent with seeing what he chooses to show 
 them in public. We want none of them 
 here, nor have aunts any right to come 
 hectoring and ordering us about in this 
 manner.' 
 
 ' I certainly did not bargain for this 
 sort of thing when we came here, my 
 dears ; but, after all, it is natural that 
 your aunts should be fond and proud of 
 your father. He is rising very fast into
 
 TREGARTHEN. 125 
 
 notice now, and he will never be patron- 
 ized offensively. The more he is known, 
 the less danger there is of that.' 
 
 ' I was not thinking of that, mamma, but 
 of my aunts.' 
 
 ' Elizabeth always had a dictatorial 
 temper, my love, and there has been little 
 in her life to check it. AYe had better 
 take people as we find them, especially 
 when we cannot alter them. Now I think 
 we must be quiet for a little. My head 
 aches a good deal.' 
 
 ' You had better go to bed, mamma,' 
 said Mabel. ' Let me go up with you, 
 and help you to undress. You are quite 
 tired out with all this nonsense.' 
 
 ' I think I had better go before your 
 father and the boys return. Kiss me, 
 Dolly love. Don't rave any more, my 
 pretty. It won't hurt us to please those 
 poor old ladies by entertaining their friends 
 for once.'
 
 126 TREGARTHEN. 
 
 ' You are altogether too good and gentle, 
 mamma. You don't think half enough of 
 yourself,' said Dorothea. 
 
 Mrs. Selby stroked the girl's hot cheek, 
 laid her own lovingly against it, and 
 retired. 
 
 ' Now, look here,' said the Duchess, 
 coming downstairs again after attending 
 to all her mother's wants. ' Look here, 
 mamma must not be worried about this. 
 She wants to please our aunts, and she has 
 got to be obeyed, whether we like it or not. 
 Let us look upon it as fun ; we might, 
 really, make a very pretty little entertain- 
 ment of it, if we choose to put our wits to 
 work. Let us forget Aunt Elizabeth, and 
 fancy that we are getting up a charade or 
 something.' 
 
 ' I am with you,' said Horace. ' Aunt 
 Elizabeth is an ancient feline development 
 of femininity, but Aunt Letitia is a good 
 sort, after all.'
 
 TREGARTHEN. 127 
 
 ' Yes, she will hear all about it. And 
 perhaps it is just as well to show the 
 others that we are not to be despised alto- 
 gether. Let us do our best. Dolly dear, 
 you are so clever about getting up pretty 
 entertainments. Be good now, there's a 
 dear.' 
 
 ' Well,' heaving a deep sigh, ' it is more 
 yours and Horace's affair than mine, after 
 all. You two are our show ones ; we can 
 stick you up in attitudes, like a couple of 
 Chelsea-china figures. Horace, borrow a 
 crook in the morning, and annex a lamb. 
 I will fill an apron with flowers for the 
 Duchess, and crown her with roses. Then 
 all you will have to do will be to simper 
 at each other, like the idiots you are. Will 
 that do T 
 
 ' Anything for a quiet life,' said her 
 brother, Avith resignation in every look 
 and tone. 
 
 ' There is one thing, however, over
 
 128 TREGARTHEN. 
 
 which I shall nail my colours to the 
 mast,' declared Dorothea, vehemently. 
 ' These people shall have something to 
 stare at, if nothing else will serve you all, 
 but none of them have found out that the 
 Duchess sings so nicely; and, just remem- 
 ber, May, I won't have you making a con- 
 cert-singer of yourself without pay, to 
 please fifty Aunt EHzabeths.' 
 
 ' Might she not, on my behalf, just 
 warble " Baa, baa, black sheep " ?' asked 
 Horace, humbly. 'If we are to be shep- 
 herd and shepherdess, it would be so in 
 character.' 
 
 Dorothea turned upon him in such wrath 
 that he fled, in mock terror. 
 
 The Duchess woke up, next morning, 
 feeling weary beforehand at the thought 
 of all before her that day. It was always 
 her part to smooth difliculties, and be a 
 kind of Deus ex machind to every member 
 of the household.
 
 TREGARTHEN. 129 
 
 If Dorothea would take the entertain- 
 ment in hand, no one was more capable, 
 but she was sure to give them all plenty 
 of work over it. However, Dorothea was 
 complaisant. 
 
 ' I think I see our way,' said she, as the 
 four sisters were dressing. ' We must get 
 the dining-table out into the garden, and 
 have an exhibition of drawino^s and thing^s 
 in the big room. Then we can lay the 
 tea, beforehand, in the open air. The 
 tide will be coming in, and it is going to 
 be a magnificent day.' 
 
 ' Yes,' said Mabel. ' Mamma must be 
 kept quiet till they come. Felicia, you 
 take her breakfast up to her ; and, when 
 you have had your own, you could give 
 her her morning reading.' 
 
 ' What must I do?' asked Evangeline. 
 
 ^ You and the boys hurry up,' said 
 Dorothea, ' and bring me in ever such a 
 quantity of ferns, and honeysuckle, and 
 
 VOL. I. K
 
 130 TREGARTHEN. 
 
 all the wild flowers you can get. Arm- 
 fulls, you know.' 
 
 ' Then, dear,' said the Duchess, ' I think 
 that it would be best to lessen the crowd 
 of us. You and the boys could take your 
 dinners over to Grenaway and shrimp, 
 could you not? Horace must stay, and 
 the little ones, but you three had better 
 keep out of the way.' 
 
 ' Oh, mayn't I go too ?' cried Felicia. 
 
 ' Well,' doubtfully, ' we really shall want 
 hands.' 
 
 ' Let her go,' decided Dorothea. ' She 
 and Eva can help beforehand. They would 
 not be of much use when the people come, 
 and we should only be tumbling over each 
 other. Keep quite away, that is all. Don't 
 get yourselves into some horrible mess, and 
 then appear to shock our delicate nerves.' 
 
 ' We will keep honestly out of sight,' 
 promised both girls. ' Only give us 
 enough to eat. Duchess.'
 
 TREGAKTHEX. 131 
 
 ' Depend upon me for that,' said May ; 
 ' and I will save some fruit and cream for 
 your suppers when all is over.' 
 
 'That will be jolly, but don't go with- 
 out your share for us. Look after her, 
 Dollv !' 
 
 ' All right,' said Dorothea. ' We shall 
 have enouo'h to do. without o-ormaiidizino:.' 
 
 Enough there really was to do ! Mabel's 
 troubles began as soon as she went to help 
 nurse in dressing the children. 
 
 ' What !' cried the old woman. ' Com- 
 pany to-day ! And Master Steenie's best 
 suit in this mess ! And Miss Amy has no 
 other frock fit to be seen in !' 
 
 ' Do you think that you could wash the 
 things in time ? Steenie has another j)air 
 of tidy knickerbockers if his blouse were 
 clean.' 
 
 ' Wash, and get them up in time ! What- 
 ever are you talking of, miss ?' 
 
 •Well, if it can't be done, you must 
 
 k2
 
 132 TKEGARTHEN. 
 
 keep them out of the way, that's all,' said 
 May. ' But papa is sure to want them 
 seen/ 
 
 ' Well, well, I must see what I can do, I 
 suppose.' 
 
 Mabel went down stairs, to be met by 
 Horace. 
 
 ' I say, Duchess. What am I to do ? I 
 never brought a respectable suit of clothes 
 with me ? I never reckoned upon this, at 
 a moment's notice, and you did cut the 
 luggage so short.' 
 
 ' You ought not to wear that, certainly,' 
 said his sister. ^ Have you nothing better?' 
 
 ' Not a rag.' 
 
 ' Well, dear, that velveteen coat is shabby, 
 certainly, but it always suited you. You 
 look well in anything.' 
 
 ' You see, I reckoned upon borrowin^r 
 
 'to 
 
 the pater's if I had to go anywhere. We 
 are so much of a size, and it was so un- 
 likely that we should both have to go out
 
 TREGARTHEX. 133 
 
 together. I brought my dress suit for 
 him.' 
 
 ' Could you not wear a coat of Guy's or 
 Walter's?' 
 
 ' They are such thread papers, and look 
 at my chest, my dear girl,' said Horace, 
 thumping that portion of himself. 
 
 ' Your flannels are clean !' cried Mabel, 
 triumphantly. ' You look very well in 
 tliem^ they will pass beautifully.' 
 
 ' Hum, perhaps they will.' 
 
 Mabel went out into the kitchen, com- 
 forting herself with the reflection that she 
 and Dorothea, at least, had clean print 
 blouses to put on. 
 
 ' Oh. Miss Selby !' said cook, upon seeing 
 her. ' Here have the young ladies been 
 wanting sandwiches to take away with 
 them for dinner, but I can't cut enough. 
 There is only this one small loaf besides 
 what is on the breakfast- table, and the 
 baker won't be here till evenins:.'
 
 134 TREGAETHEN. 
 
 'Have you plenty of potatoes?' asked 
 Mabel. 
 
 • Oh ! yes, miss. I reckoned on they 
 for dinner, and they there broad beans, 
 with the cold beef. But Miss Eva saith 
 there be company coming to tea. What- 
 ever shall us do for bread ? It did ought 
 to be fresh, and thiccee loaf be as stale as 
 stale.' 
 
 ' We must make some potato pasties for 
 the boys, cook. Peel plenty of potatoes 
 while I wash up the breakfast things, and 
 I will help as soon as I can. I will make 
 splits for tea, my aunts brought us plenty 
 of cake.' 
 
 ' Very well, miss.' 
 
 ' Duchess, Duchess !' screamed the two 
 girls, running in. ' Dolly says she must 
 have all our rush hats to turn into flower 
 baskets ! What must we wear ?' 
 
 ' You must wear your best ones, dear, 
 then.'
 
 TREGARTHEN. 135 
 
 ' Xurse won't let us. She says that we 
 shall make the white ribbons not fit to be 
 seen.' 
 
 ' Dolly's and mine are brown, take those, 
 we can do without any this afternoon.' 
 
 ' But if we spoil them?' said Eva. 
 
 ' Don't if you can help it, there's a good 
 girl. Be as careful as you can, and don't 
 do any very wild thing. I daresay I shall 
 be able to put it to rights if you only do a 
 little harm.' 
 
 ' All right, we will do our best ;' and off 
 they ran.
 
 136 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 THE AETISTIC FETE. 
 
 ' Blessed be the man who invented pasties,' 
 cried Guy, fervently, a couple of hours 
 later, as his sisters wrapped up a goodly 
 supply of substantial food for the shrimp- 
 ing-party. 
 
 ' How do you know that it was not a 
 woman?' demanded Felicia. 
 
 ' May her shadow never grow less, if it 
 were,' ejaculated Walter. 
 
 'How could her shadow grow less?' 
 piped a little voice. Stephen and Amanda
 
 TREGARTHEX. 137 
 
 were none the worse for their upset the 
 night before, and greatly excited with the 
 bustle in the house. 
 
 ' That, my good sir,' cried Guy, ' is one 
 of those things which no fellow can under- 
 stand, particularly no fellow of your 
 inches.' 
 
 Steenie dashed at his brother's legs, and 
 a friendly scuffle ensued. 
 
 ' Come along !' cried Walter. ' Don't 
 stand talking nonsense all day ! Good- 
 bye, good people. Don't expect us till you 
 see us. Have you got the basket. Evie ? 
 Come along !* 
 
 ' Now, little ones, keep out of the way, 
 and don't get into mischief. Go and dig 
 in the sand there, and make a great big 
 mountain,' commanded Dorothea. ' Helj) 
 me with the table, please, papa. Horace, 
 put a hand.' 
 
 Mabel fled, leaving her to her own 
 devices, and these occupied her father and
 
 138 TREGARTHEN. 
 
 Horace, to the exclusion of all other ideas, 
 for some hours. 
 
 Dinner was hurried over, and still all 
 was chaos, but matters began to settle into 
 shape soon after; and when Mrs. Selby 
 appeared, wrapped up in her white shawl, 
 she could not but confess that Dolly's skill 
 had excelled itself. 
 
 Upon strings affixed to the walls all 
 around the sitting-room were hung 
 sketches enough to conceal the half-soiled 
 paper, which was not artistic to begin with. 
 
 A pretty cosy corner had been contrived 
 with a little drapery nailed round, and 
 pillows, covered hastily to match, piled 
 upon an old square ottoman, over which 
 a Paisley shawl was spread, to conceal 
 dilapidations. Green baize, which had 
 wrapped up canvases for the journey, 
 afforded the draperies ; — what recked it 
 that the cushion covers Avere but pinned 
 on?
 
 TREGARTHEN. 139 
 
 Small tables had been pressed into the 
 service from the bed-rooms, the lovely 
 Withiel flowers arranged upon them, among 
 more finished drawings. Easels stood in 
 good lights, supporting more pictures, and 
 the half-finished ' Waifs and Strays,' being 
 wet, took the place of honour upon the 
 mantel-piece. 
 
 All of Horace's work, as well as that of 
 his father, was brought into requisition, 
 and Mr. Selby had insisted upon Dorothea's 
 own flower-drawings being j)ut out by 
 themselves upon a separate table ; reared 
 up by ingenious contrivances, concealed 
 by natural blossoms, tastefully arranged. 
 
 All the seats had been removed from 
 the apartment, and placed in the little 
 enclosure outside, dignified by the title 
 of garden ; in which nothing grew but 
 feverfew and southernwood, intermingled 
 with a few stubby wallflowers, now gone 
 to seed.
 
 140 TREGARTHEN. 
 
 The views of sea and cliff, crags, uplands, 
 sandy shore, and wide expanse of sky, 
 were too lovely for anything further to be 
 missed, and Mrs. Selby was established 
 beneath her awning, in a comfortable 
 chair, her baby on her knee ; and, looking 
 round her, she pronounced that ' Dolly is 
 really very clever.' 
 
 ' Has she not made the table pretty !' 
 said Mabel. 
 
 ' Extremely so, what taste the child has.' 
 
 All the Withiel garden and green-house 
 flowers had been devoted to decorations 
 in the interior ; upon the tea-table were 
 only wild ones. 
 
 Four coarse rush hats, turned upside 
 down, made rustic baskets, by the help of 
 brown paper handles pinned around them, 
 and wreaths of ivy leaves. Filled with 
 ferns, poppies, and meadow-sweet, no 
 table adornments could have been more 
 charming.
 
 TEEGAKTHEN. 141 
 
 In the centre rose a proud pyramid of 
 choice fruit : peaches, grapes, and plums, 
 confected with tinted sycamore leaves and 
 long trails of honeysuckle, and delicious 
 perfume wafted from this and the dishes 
 of ripe raspberries, as a gentle breeze 
 breathed over them. 
 
 Mabel's splits were also delicious to look 
 at, and Miss Selby's sponge-cake completed 
 the appetizing feast. Only the cream was 
 yet to come ; the visitors would bring that 
 with them. 
 
 ' Where are the children ?' asked Mrs. 
 Selby. 
 
 'Somewhere about,' replied Mabel. 
 ' Nurse has got up their things beauti- 
 fully, and will dress them presently. She 
 is putting herself tidy just at this moment. 
 They cannot be hungry, for they were in 
 the kitchen with me before I went up to 
 help you to dress. I gave them some-
 
 142 TREGARTHEN. 
 
 thing to eat, and they went out again to 
 play; 
 
 ' And Horace is changing his clothes, 
 and Dolly putting herself neat? Your 
 father, ray dear. Do just see that he is 
 ready, and then put on your own fresh 
 blouse.' 
 
 Mr. Selby was in the sitting-room, still 
 shifting the places of the sketches, and 
 criticising them. 
 
 ' This is really a very good bit of colour 
 that Horace has turned out,' quoth he. 
 ' The boy has it in him. Art will be a 
 very fair refuge for him if he should miss 
 his Civil Service appointment.' 
 
 ' I wish he were reading harder for it, 
 or that we could give him some coaching 
 for it,' sighed Mabel. ' A certain income 
 and prospect of pension in his old age 
 would be such a good thing for him.' 
 
 ' So it would be, you are right. But I 
 should not like him to be banished to
 
 TREGARTHEN. 143 
 
 India for all the remainder of my natural 
 life. I should miss the young scamp 
 sadly.' 
 
 ' Papa, do put that down now, and 
 come to change your coat.' 
 
 ' My coat ? What must I change it 
 for?' 
 
 ' Now, papa, we are all to be in our best 
 bibs and tuckers, you know, and just look 
 at your hands ! Miss Courtney is sure to 
 spy out the hands that painted the 
 •' Invalid," and to be shocked to see them 
 in that state. Let me brush your hair for 
 you, too ; you look like an owl in an ivy- 
 bush now.' 
 
 ' Well, I will resign myself to my fate. 
 Just change the place of those two draw- 
 ings of Dolly's, my dear. The jar of 
 flowers should be to the left. Bring those 
 foxgloves further forward, more into the 
 light. That is by far the best bit of work 
 which the maid has done yet.'
 
 144 TREGARTHEN. 
 
 ' Yes, papa, but do come. We shall be 
 caught ; and I have to dress myself when 
 you are done. They will be here in a few 
 minutes.' 
 
 ' Mab ! They are down upon us !' cried 
 Horace, putting his head in at the door. 
 
 ' Come, papa,' urged Mabel, pulling 
 him away. 
 
 Matthews, the young groom, making 
 observations upon the state of the tide the 
 previous evening, and reporting the result 
 to his master upon his return, made it 
 plain that they must arrive early, or they 
 would be unable to visit the one cavern of 
 which the place boasted, and which could 
 only be entered at the ebb of spring 
 tides. 
 
 Miss Courtney wished particularly to 
 see this, and to gather the asplenium 
 marinmn which grew there in such profu- 
 sion, fringing the rock where it rose above 
 reach of the waves.
 
 TREGARTHEN. 14o 
 
 By a superhuman effort, between the 
 time when the carriage was first descried 
 at the top of the hill, and the introduction 
 of the guests, the Duchess made her father 
 presentable in his velvet coat, and sent 
 him in. He grimaced at her, in mock 
 misery, outside the door, and looked 
 supernaturally polite as he passed its 
 screen to greet his guests. 
 
 Mabel had swiftly vanished, but Doro- 
 thea witnessed the pantomime from where 
 she stood ; and, struggling with suppress- 
 ed laughter, looked more dignified in 
 youthful severity than usual, and answer- 
 ed Charles Grenfell's civilities wdth such 
 frigid courtesy that he was positively 
 afraid of her. 
 
 He was an attractive young man in ap- 
 pearance, tall and well-built. The gleam 
 of white teeth as he smiled, and the look 
 of kindly dark eyes out of a very brown 
 face, generally won him smiles from any 
 
 VOL. I. L
 
 146 TREGAETHEN. 
 
 girl whom he addressed ; but Dorothea 
 maintained a strict gravity. 
 
 'Yes, it was a lovely day.' ' The coast 
 •was certainly very line.' ' Her mother 
 was stronger, she was glad to say.' This 
 was all he could draw from her. 
 
 But Miss Courtney was ecstatic. ' How 
 charming ! How sweet ! How quite too 
 exquisite was " Waifs and Strays!" ' She 
 must be shown the exact spot from which 
 the picture was painted ; she must see the 
 dear little children themselves. 
 
 ' By-and-by, my dear young lady,' said 
 Mrs. Selby, with whom Miss Rose had 
 been anxiously and mysteriously conferring 
 hitherto ; and Miss Courtney's attention 
 was attracted by the water-colours. 
 
 Were they really Miss Dorothea Selby 's 
 own ! Her own design and work, and all ! 
 Oh ! if she could only paint like that. 
 She doted upon water-colours, England's 
 own especial branch of art, and she was
 
 TREGARTHEN. 147 
 
 SO passionately fond of flowers. Might 
 she ask — would Miss Selby be affronted 
 — but she would so like to have those fox- 
 gloves for a present to her sister. Would 
 Miss Selby part with them? She hoped she 
 was not asking too much ? 
 
 Dorothea flushed crimson, and glanced 
 at her father with a light of hope in her 
 eyes. She had never sold a picture of her 
 own yet, she had not expected to do so 
 for a long, long time ; could it be possible 
 that this delightful damsel meant to con- 
 fer this honour upon her? Would her 
 father not laugh at the notion? She 
 almost winced in anticipation of his 
 ridicule. 
 
 But Frank was much pleased with the 
 encouragement thus unexpectedly offered 
 to his daughter ; he took the negotiation 
 upon himself, and concluded the bargain 
 for a sum which was like a mine of 2:old 
 to the happy girl. When the Duchess 
 
 l2
 
 148 TREGARTHEN. 
 
 entered upon the scene, she observed, to 
 her amusement, that all Dorothea's scorn- 
 fulness had vanished ; all her indignation 
 at the family being regarded in the light 
 of a wild-beast show was gone ; every 
 vestige of her unwillingness to waste her 
 time over the entertainment of their guests, 
 — she was radiant with happiness, talking, 
 smiling, pointing out all she most admired, 
 making herself extremely pleasant, and 
 evidently charming her new friend. 
 
 She was eager to display all the beauties 
 of Polzeath, — lovely Polzeath, whose opa- 
 lescent sea, stretching wide in blended 
 emerald and blue, melted into tender grey 
 on the horizon ; whose long Atlantic rol- 
 lers, rising regularly into crested, trans- 
 lucent waves, curled over, each in turn, 
 to dash down showers of pearly whiteness ; 
 whose dark rocks, looming out, jagged 
 and broken, rising in piled-up grandeur 
 on either hand, were fringed with sam-
 
 TREGARTHEX. 149 
 
 phire and sea-fern, and crowned by rich 
 thymy grass on which fed herds of sheep, 
 — where cloud-shadows, floating over the 
 yellow sands, now softly swept athwart 
 their expanse, and now left them illumi- 
 nated by golden sunshine, — where flocks 
 of seafowl, wheeling in the summer air, 
 now swooped down to bathe their snowy 
 breasts in the sunlit sparkling waters, and 
 now rose high on the joyous breeze, — 
 sweet Polzeath, bounded by Pentire's bold 
 headland, rushing magnificently out into 
 the sea ; fair Polzeath, who, knowing it 
 once, must not love it for ever ? 
 
 If Polzeath, as its grhn name of Hell 
 Bay implies, can show a far difl'erent face, 
 a face of wild storm and inky darkness, a 
 leaping rage of waters, driving ships on 
 the jagged teeth of cruel rocks, tearing 
 them into fragments, and sparing neither 
 man nor beast, youth nor age, in their 
 fury, none could have thought it on that
 
 150 TREGARTHEN. 
 
 sweet summer day, when the young people 
 set forth to walk to the point where the 
 cavern was to be seen. 
 
 ' Miss Courtney,' said Dorothea, eager 
 to please their visitor in every way, ' Miss 
 Courtney must hear Mabel sing " Break, 
 break," in the cavern.' 
 
 The Duchess smiled to herself at this 
 change in her sister's mood ; she did not 
 much like the display, but was willing to 
 play her part in the entertainment to please 
 her sister and Aunt Rose, who was so well 
 satisfied by the efforts made thus far that 
 she had voluntarily whispered to her niece 
 how well all had been managed. 
 
 So they walked out, over the springy 
 grass, to the extreme verge of the point, 
 where some former convulsion of nature 
 had separated an abrupt pinnacle of rock 
 from the mainland, leaving a mass of 
 broken cliff between, over which the in- 
 coming tide would soon boil. A kind of
 
 TREGARTHEN. 15 i 
 
 natural staircase led down to this place, 
 and the entrance to the cave lay beneath 
 their feet. It was a place full of wild 
 beauty, new to Miss Courtney, who was 
 accustomed to a softer style of landscape 
 on the southern shores of Devonshire, 
 where her home lay. 
 
 The scramble down the cliff; the peeps 
 into deep, dark pools, the dwelling-place 
 of exquisite sea-anemones among forests 
 of pink coralline ; the gathering of the 
 asplenium marinum^ all dank with salt 
 moisture ; the echoes of Mabel's tine voice 
 in Tennyson's exquisite song, which suited 
 the place so admirably, were all new and 
 exhilarating pleasures to the girl trained 
 in such conventionality. 
 
 She gave herself up to enjoyment in an 
 unaccustomed manner; she forgot her 
 little aestheticisms and affectations with 
 these young people, so artistic in all their 
 surroundings ; so cultivated and intelli-
 
 152 TREGARTHEN. 
 
 gent, yet so simple. They aroused all 
 that was most natural and best in her, and 
 she responded to the call in a manner 
 which would have surprised those who 
 only knew her in a London ball-room. 
 
 But, if she was charmed and charminp^, 
 her cousin was something more. He leaned 
 against the entrance to the cavern, watch- 
 ing Mabel's young figure lightly poised 
 upon a little platform of rock; her hair 
 slightly disordered by the breeze above 
 her broad, low brow; her fingers inter- 
 laced ; her sweet eyes gazing earnestly out 
 seawards as her voice quivered with pathos 
 over the words of her song ; he listened to 
 the low, trembling notes in which she 
 uttered the wail 
 
 ' But the tender grace of a day that has fled 
 Will never come back to me,' 
 
 and something swelled within him, at the 
 sound and the scene, that was to exercise
 
 TREGARTHEN. 153 
 
 an influence over his whole life afterwards. 
 
 Horace hurried them all out of the cave 
 as soon as the song was completed, for the 
 tide was rising fast ; but, the cliff once 
 more surmounted, they all sat down to 
 rest, and watched the surging waves toss- 
 ing and leaping below with a voice of 
 thunder, making them catch their breaths 
 to think howrecently they had stood where 
 now w^ould have been certain death. 
 
 Charles seated himself a little behind 
 the Duchess ; who, tired with her exer- 
 tions, waited for him to talk, but he could 
 not do so. There was plenty of conver- 
 sation between Augusta, Dorothea, and 
 Horace ; Miss Rose put in a word now and 
 then, but Mabel was silent ; and Charles 
 sat looking at the outline of her fair cheek, 
 with the light locks of silky hair straying 
 over it ; at the slim hands folded together ; 
 at the large, earnest eyes looking thought- 
 fully into space, and wondered of what
 
 154 TKEGARTHEN. 
 
 she could be thinking, and whether there 
 were, anywhere in this world, a more 
 gracious sample of girlhood.
 
 loo 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 STEPHEN AND AMANDA ARE LOST. 
 
 Miss Rose sat upon the sward in consid- 
 erable perplexity while the young people 
 chatted around her. She was forced to re- 
 adjust all her estimate of her brother's 
 family, and, being slow of mind, felt un- 
 expected difficulty in so doing. 
 
 Miss Courtney did not talk to Dorothea 
 and Horace from ' de haut en has,' she even 
 seemed to defer to them in many ways. 
 
 They did not appear to be at all over- 
 whelmed by any sense of her superiority, 
 though they certainly knew of it ; they
 
 156 TREGARTHEN. 
 
 talked to her from the same level of 
 equality, yet no one could accuse them of 
 forwardness. 
 
 Dorothea differed frankly from her young 
 guest upon several matters connected with 
 art, and Miss Courtney admitted that she 
 was right. Still more surprising, her ne- 
 j)hew — she could hardly believe that she 
 was not mistaken — but it seemed to her 
 that he, even on more than one occasion, 
 made gentle fun of the young lady, and 
 that she did not resent it ! 
 
 How very handsome Horace was ! He 
 lounged in an easy attitude, his straw hat 
 tossed carelessly aside upon the grass, 
 putting in a word or two, as if he were 
 almost certain to know better than Miss 
 Courtney. 
 
 That young lady dilated upon the 
 beauties of a recent new school of art, 
 which, she said, represented Nature in the 
 beauty of mystery.
 
 TREGARTHEN, 157 
 
 ' Mystery ? Oh ! you mean mists,' said 
 he. 
 
 ' Yes, mists and fogs ; realistic Xature, 
 not as if she always displayed herself in 
 spring verdure, or autumn richness of 
 colouring, as some artists would represent.' 
 
 ' Quite so, it would be very wrong of 
 Nature to do that ; I should be perfectly 
 shocked at her bad taste if she did not 
 shroud herself up in a fog generally.' 
 
 ' You are laughing at me, Mr. Selby,' 
 cried she, rather petulantly, ' but great 
 brilliancy of varied colour is a mistake in 
 a picture, certainly.' 
 
 ' I am agreeing with you,' said he. 
 ' Xature never shows us the example of 
 brilliancy, as you say. Colour is not 
 light ; light is not truth ; the Holy City 
 will not come down from heaven upon 
 rainbow-hued jewelled foundations, with a 
 river of such brilliancy and clearness 
 runnino: throuo-h it that it looks like
 
 158 TREGARTHEN. 
 
 transparent glass, reflecting the greenness 
 of the tree of life, and the glory of golden 
 gates set with pearls. All those descrip- 
 tions mean nothing, and are not meant for 
 lessons to us.' 
 
 ' But, Mr. Selby, that is a description of 
 heaven, not earth.' 
 
 ' Again you are quite right. Light is 
 heavenly, fogs are from the earth. We 
 ought not to try to depict what is beyond 
 us, w^e ought to be content with the fog of 
 our present degradation.' 
 
 • Mr. Selby! Those are high thoughts, 
 but ' 
 
 'If you are sufficiently rested. Miss 
 Courtney,' said Mabel, ' I think we ought 
 to go in. My mother will be ready for 
 her tea.' 
 
 She had not been attending to the talk 
 among the others, and her mother's tea 
 seemed more important to her. They 
 walked together, discussing colour, light,
 
 TREGARTHEN. 159 
 
 and art; she led the van, and Charles 
 came to her side. 
 
 ' Do you paint, too. Miss Selby ?' 
 ' No, the eldest of so large a family as 
 ours has too much need for practical work 
 to study art. My mother is not very strong, 
 and wants help.' 
 
 * But you make time to study music' 
 ' Xot much. I sing by nature ; my 
 mother is musical, and used to sing very 
 well; she taught us all as children, and I 
 had more of her attention than the rest, 
 because there were not so many of us 
 when 1 was little. But I have only had 
 a very few good lessons since.' 
 
 ' You have made excellent use of them.' 
 ' I do not play much, just enough to 
 accompany a song. It requires too much 
 practice to master execution. My sister 
 Evangeline promises to play very well. 
 There is no piano here, and she has gone 
 for a long expedition with our younger
 
 160 TREGAETHEN. 
 
 brothers to-day, or I would have liked you 
 to have heard her play.' 
 
 ' What an accomplished family yours 
 is!' 
 
 ' My father's profession throws us early 
 among cultured people. living in town, 
 any talents which we may possess are 
 easily trained.' 
 
 ' You live in tow^n, then, altogether?' 
 
 ' Yes, in St. John's Wood, quite in the 
 heart of things.' 
 
 They had reached the house, whence 
 Mrs. Selby came out, looking uneasy. 
 
 ' Have the little ones been with you, 
 Mabel?' 
 
 ' No, mamma. They were playing on 
 the sand when I saw them last.' 
 
 ' We cannot find them anywhere.' 
 
 ' Not find them ! They cannot be far 
 off; I will go and look for them.' 
 
 ' Nurse wanted to put them tidy, and 
 send them in to be seen, and they have
 
 TREGARTHEN. 161 
 
 disappeared. We cannot find them any- 
 where.' 
 
 ' They are hiding somewhere, for fun. 
 It is one of Steenie's tricks. Don't worry 
 yourself, mamma ; they will soon run in.' 
 
 ' I wish you could go and look for them, 
 my dear.' 
 
 ' Allow me to assist you,' said Charles, 
 a little eagerly. 
 
 Mabel did not feel very willing to ac- 
 cept his company, for she w^as doubtful as 
 to the condition in which the children 
 might be discovered. They might appear 
 as such horribly grubby little creatures 
 after having been left so long to their 
 own devices. 
 
 There was no help for it, however ; and, 
 before long, she would have been thankful 
 to have found them under any circum- 
 stances. 
 
 Up and down she went ; searching the 
 house, the hay-loft, the favourite play- 
 
 VOL. I. M
 
 162 TREGARTHEN. 
 
 places among the rocks, calling, calling, 
 calling to the baby darlings whose voices 
 never answered. 
 
 ' They are in one of the cottages, no 
 doubt,' said Horace, and he sped away to 
 inquire. 
 
 There were but half-a-dozen cottages, 
 and they stood close together, at the foot 
 of the hill. They were easily searched, 
 but the people in them had not seen the 
 children that day. 
 
 Had they gone to see old Captain 
 Brunton ? They had been so happy on 
 their visit to him the day before. Perhaps 
 they had gone to offer their company 
 again to him. 
 
 Horace tore up the long hill, feeling no 
 doubt but what he had thus solved the 
 puzzle. 
 
 ' They may have gone over the fields to 
 Grenaway, after the boys,' said Mabel. 
 ' Two of our brothers and two younger
 
 TREGARTHEN. 163 
 
 sisters are there, shrimping/ said she to 
 Charles Grenfell. 
 
 ' I will hasten there by the field-path 
 and find them,' said he. ' Don't make 
 yourself uneasy, Miss Selby ; there is 
 some simple explanation of their dis- 
 appearance, I daresay. We will soon find 
 them.' 
 
 He ran off immediately ; and Mabel, 
 trying to suppress the terrible lurking 
 fear at her heart, returned to the house to 
 persuade her mother to take her tea. She 
 must not become exhausted, and it would 
 be a relief if the lady visitors, at any rate, 
 would leave them. 
 
 Mrs. Selby, white and trembling, took 
 the cup which her daughter brought to 
 her ; and Miss Courtney was persuaded to 
 join her ; but, without comprehending the 
 dangers feared by the others, she perceived 
 their overwhelming anxiety, and would 
 not leave them in it. 
 
 m2
 
 164 TREGARTHEN. 
 
 She and Miss Rose sat with Mrs. Selby,. 
 and the girl took the poor lady's hand in 
 hers, and fondled it tenderly. 
 
 ' Keep up heart, dear Mrs. Selby,' she 
 said, over and over again. ' Waiting is 
 very hard to bear, but God is merciful. 
 He will not afflict you beyond your 
 strength. Try to trust Him, try to be 
 calm.' 
 
 But her hand was squeezed tightly as 
 the only response, and the pale lips were 
 silent, pressed closely together to control 
 their quivering. 
 
 ' You are very kind to me, my dear,' 
 said she once, but could speak no more. 
 
 Miss Rose hovered about them, walked 
 uneasily in and out of the house, conferred 
 with nurse, and moved hurriedly to ask 
 each of the searchers, as one and another 
 appeared, from time to time, with agitated 
 face, 
 
 ' Have you any trace of them ?'
 
 TREGARTHEN. 165 
 
 No answer beyond a shake of the head 
 Avas ever given. 
 
 Every creature about the place had 
 joined in the search. All the cottagers, 
 all the labourers, all the women and chil- 
 dren, were running about looking in the 
 same places over and over again, calling 
 the children's names, now fancying that 
 they heard a reply, now imagining that 
 they saw a bit of white belonging to their 
 clothes, but running fast to the spot they 
 always came slowly and sadly away. 
 
 Horace came back, accompanied by old 
 Captain Brunton, but with no tidings. 
 Charles returned with the frightened boys 
 and girls, who had never seen a trace of 
 the little ones. People were searching all 
 over the surrounding cliffs and fields, in 
 groups of twos and threes, but not over 
 the beach, for the rising tide was surely 
 and rapidly covering, one after another, 
 every possible lurking-place.
 
 166 TREGAKTHEN. 
 
 It was an unusually high tide, and the 
 long white rollers washed steadily over 
 the high cliffs about the point, over the 
 low cliffs around the house ; they stretched 
 in long lines all across the mile-wide 
 beach, still advancing, with fatal precision, 
 like the march of doom. Long ago, a faint 
 track of light little feet upon some soft 
 sand had been obliterated by the water. 
 When first perceived, they could be fol- 
 lowed but a little way. The searchers 
 had nothing left to guide them. 
 
 Suddenly old Jem, grandfather of the 
 boy who drove the donkey-cart, remem- 
 bered that, a week ago, he had taken 
 Steenie with him to the farm on Pentire 
 Head, where the farmer's wife had made 
 much of him, given him bread and cream, 
 and asked him to come and see her again. 
 It was a long way off*, but he might have 
 taken his little sister there. He would go 
 and see.
 
 TKEGARTHEX. 167 
 
 ' I will go with you,' cried Charles, 
 ' Is that your clog ? Let us take him 
 too.' 
 
 ' Ay,' said the old man ; ' seek, Ranger, 
 seek. Little Master Steenie was always 
 fond of he, sir.' 
 
 Charles sickened at the sound of the 
 word ' was.' The old man betrayed, by 
 that slight slip of the tongue, that his 
 hope of finding the children alive was 
 gone. Xevertheless, this was one slender 
 chance yet, one stone to be turned, and 
 he tried to depend upon it. 
 
 They took their long walk to the farm, 
 but the people there had seen nothing 
 of the children. All the men set out to 
 return with them, searching as they went 
 every furze-bush and hollow, every fence 
 and hillock on the way, but without a 
 sign. And the tide rose higher and higher, 
 and the shades of evening began to gather, 
 aud the wretched father, the most tender-
 
 168 TREGARTHEN. 
 
 hearted man in the world, for all his jovial 
 laugh, his merry voice, his hearty ways, 
 having no more stamina within him than 
 a child himself wherewith to rise against 
 trouble, sank wholly beneath it. Seeking 
 his never-failing comforter, he wailed out, 
 
 ' Oh ! wifie, wifie, our little children ! 
 Our pretty little children ! Oh ! wifie, 
 wifie !' 
 
 Stronger than he at that moment, she 
 put her arm round his neck and drew his 
 head down upon her loving bosom, where 
 he wept uncontrollably. His sister and 
 Augusta wept too, but the afilicted mother 
 shed no tears, she controlled herself to 
 succour him who was so dear to her heart 
 that it had no room for self in it.
 
 169 
 
 CHAPTER XL 
 
 WHEAL P E N T I R E. 
 
 Little Stephen and Amanda had been 
 rather lonely among their many brothers 
 and sisters, all so busy in various ways 
 with schooling, lectures, and classes. They 
 were inseparable companions, Steenie be- 
 ing the adventurous, and Amanda the 
 complaisant and devoted. 
 
 Mamma generally taught them ; but 
 their own health recently, and the birth 
 of little Desiree, had interfered greatly 
 with the regularity of their lessons ; and 
 Mabel, who strusfofled to fill her mother's
 
 170 TREGARTHEN. 
 
 place in every possible maimer, was too 
 busy in household matters to attend very 
 regularly to them. Thus they had, per- 
 force, been left much to their own quaint 
 ideas and devices for amusement. 
 
 They liked being models to their father, 
 for he told them stories all the time they 
 were standing for him, and Frank told 
 capital stories. The pity was that he be- 
 came carried away by his own imagination 
 as a raconteur, and related his histories 
 with a realism which impressed his hear- 
 ers by a sense of their actual truth, and he 
 did not perceive for himself how literally 
 the young, inexperienced minds believed 
 in them. 
 
 The children's heads were filled up with 
 a wonderful jumble of fairies, witches, 
 genii, imps, sprites, and hobgoblins ; for 
 it was Frank's way to toy with the rich- 
 ness of his own imagination, to throw out 
 ideas, new to his childish auditors, and
 
 TREGARTHEX. 171 
 
 amuse himself with their original remarks 
 upon them. 
 
 Classical, English, Continental, and 
 Biblical history were thus all mixed up 
 together, in a glorious hotch-potch, and 
 left to be unravelled, bit by bit, as they 
 grew older, and their intellects developed. 
 The mental food so lavishly bestowed upon 
 them over these sittings, might — probably 
 would — give life and reality to many a 
 graver study in later years ; but meantime 
 were in no less confusion because believed 
 in so implicitly. 
 
 The scripture language and peculiar 
 phraseology of Methodism, so rife among 
 the humbler classes in Cornwall, had late- 
 ly been added to the medley, and given 
 them new phases of thought ; for their old 
 nurse had become impressed by the con- 
 versation of the new acquaintances whom 
 she had met in the village and adjacent 
 farms, amono- whom was more than one
 
 172 TREGARTHEN. 
 
 lay preacher ; and the little ones had gone 
 with her occasionally to visit them. 
 
 Pious deaths of holy children, wonder- 
 ful conversions from depths of sin, and 
 such like stories, reached them from many 
 a tract and little book through this chan- 
 nel, but Undine had been the story told 
 to them by their father over and over 
 again, while they were standing for ' Waifs 
 and Strays,' it had impressed their imagin- 
 ations greatly, and they had held much 
 grave discussion with him upon the nature 
 of kobolds and gnomes, water-sprites and 
 fays, until their task was ended. 
 
 In these conversations, Frank Selby had 
 sported, in his fantastic way, more than 
 usual with their innocence and ignorance 
 to his own entertainment, without much 
 consideration for the confusion which he 
 was creating in such very young minds. 
 It was his habit to play with earnest sub- 
 jects, throwing out stray hints of thought,
 
 TREGARTHEX. 17^ 
 
 like tendrils of some free-growing climber, 
 to catch hold of support anywhere that 
 they could, twine themselves over any 
 support that offered, and root themselves 
 or not, accordino; to the ojround whereon 
 
 7 
 
 they might light. 
 
 But the children's part in their father's 
 picture being completed, they were free to 
 play upon the beach ; dabbling barefooted 
 in shallow pools, among the coralline and 
 feathery olive seaweed, where shrimps 
 lived, and little fishes, and tiny crabs ; to 
 pick up shells, — yellow, blue, pink, and 
 white ; to watch the leaping waves come 
 roaring in, with their snowy crests of foam ; 
 and think of the poor merman in the poem 
 which their father had repeated to them, 
 whose wife had deserted him and his littlo 
 children, and who went to seek her up- 
 on those wild sea-horses, foaming and 
 fretting. 
 
 It was not to be supposed that any harm
 
 174 TREGARTHEN. 
 
 could come to them here, for among so 
 many brothers and sisters, some of the 
 elders were generally about them ; while 
 mamma sat in the small level enclosure 
 outside the front door, among the tamarisk 
 and wormwood and lad'slove, which alone 
 flourished there. With Desiree on her 
 knee, and her sewing at hand, she sat there 
 nearly all day ; old nurse took them to 
 bathe, and went out with them in the 
 afternoons when the housework was done ; 
 and papa often smoked his pipe, resting, 
 full length, on the sand close by. 
 
 They had never wandered away before, 
 and no one dreamt that any harm could 
 have come to them on this first occasion 
 upon which they had been left alone to 
 their own devices. 
 
 What could have become of them, with 
 what view or plan they could have been 
 guided in their disappearance, no one could 
 imagine.
 
 TREGARTHEN. 175 
 
 And what had become of them ? For 
 long had they played, quietly and happily, 
 upon the sand. They built castles, laid out 
 gardens around them, with shells, pebbles, 
 and seaweed; then, tired of this amusement, 
 they lay, rolling upon the dry beach, in 
 the sun, talking according to their wont, 
 in confidence one with the other. 
 
 ' Mannie,' quoth Stephen, ' did you hear 
 what Guy said, this morning, about people's 
 shadows ? I could not understand him. 
 He said might the shadow of the woman 
 who invented pasties never grow less. 
 How could anybody prevent it ? Why do 
 shadows be sometimes long and sometimes 
 short?' 
 
 ' I very often don't understand what 
 grown-up people mean,' replied Amanda, 
 ' and I think Guy often means nothing at 
 all.' 
 
 ' Perhaps,' said Stephen, thoughtfully, 
 ' but, Mannie, people's shadows do grow
 
 176 TREGARTHEN. 
 
 less, and I don't see what harm it does 
 them, or why they shouldn't. Look !' con- 
 tinued he, standing up, ' see what a long 
 shadow I have got now, and when we first 
 came out to play, I had scarcely any at all. 
 I don't see how it is.' 
 
 ' Guy said that no fellow could under- 
 stand,' said Amanda, ' so perhaps we 
 can't.' 
 
 ' He laughed when he said that,' said 
 Stephen, ' like papa does sometimes. Papa 
 often says things, queer things, and laughs, 
 and then, if I think very hard, I can find 
 out what he means afterwards. I think 
 papa always means something, I wonder if 
 Guy did?' 
 
 The children had risen, and strolled 
 across the beach, talking thus ; and they 
 now silently wandered forward to some 
 distance, till they came within sight of the 
 clifi*s on the opposite side. 
 
 ' Mannie,' said Stephen, ' do you see
 
 TREGARTHEN. 177 
 
 that little hole in the rock there ? I asked 
 Horace one day where it went to, and he 
 said perhaps it was the way into Aladdin's 
 cave. You know there is a cave over 
 yonder, what papa took us into once, so 
 Horace may mean something about it ; but 
 I told him that I knew better, because 
 Aladdin's cave had a trap-door to it, and 
 it pulled up with a ring, and he went down 
 steps ; and then he said perhaps this was 
 the back-door to the cave, and you know 
 that viight be, and Aladdin had never found 
 it out.' 
 
 'Do you think it is?' asked Amanda, 
 her eyes round with wonder. 
 
 ' I'm telling you,' replied Stephen, very 
 earnestly. ' You know I went mth old 
 Jem once, to Pentire Farm, to fetch the 
 milk and things, and we passed that hole, 
 and I asked him where it went to, and he 
 said it was not fit for little boys to go into, 
 because there was a place up there that 
 
 VOL. I. K
 
 178 TEEGAKTHEN. 
 
 went right through the world and came 
 out on the other side. If it does, it must 
 go through hell, and, you know, some 
 people call all this outside Hell Bay, so 
 that must be the reason why ; and I was 
 frightened, and I cried, and asked if the 
 devil lived there.' 
 
 'What did he say?' asked Amanda, 
 creeping nearer to her brother, and hold- 
 ing his hand very tightly. 
 
 ' Well, you need not be afraid, because 
 he said there was no devil in Cornwall; 
 he had never crossed the river and got 
 into this land because he was so afraid 
 of being put into a pasty and eaten up. 
 He did not laugh like papa ; he was quite, 
 quite serious, and he said them was a 
 passel of old wives' tales, and I must 
 think no more of none of them. Then I 
 asked him if it was a way into Aladdin's 
 cave, and he said he had never heard tell 
 of the gentleman. You see, Jem does not 
 know very much.'
 
 TREGARTHEX. 179 
 
 ' Xo,' said the little girl. ' He does not 
 speak at all like papa and people at home 
 do, and when I asked nurse why, she said 
 it was because folks here was only a lot 
 of savages. I told her that they could 
 not be savages like Robinson Crusoe's 
 savages, because ihey were black, and wore 
 scarcely any clothes, and then she said 
 this was a Christian land, and them was 
 a set of heathen blackamoors, which ac- 
 counts for it.' 
 
 ' Well, well,' said Stephen, impatiently, 
 ' I haven't told you all yet. One day, 
 before we came away from home, I was 
 sitting for papa, and mamma came in, and 
 said that we wanted a lot of things, and 
 papa told her it was no use, and they must 
 wait till the money-tree bore. I've thought 
 and thought about it, and now I've made 
 up my mind that the money-tree is very 
 likely to grow near where Aladdin's jewel- 
 trees grew, because Undine's knight, Huld- 
 
 x2
 
 180 TREGARTHEK. 
 
 brand, looked down into the inside of the 
 ground, and saw the gnomes playing with 
 heaps and heaps of gold, and I think that 
 you and I had best go a little way up that 
 hole and peep in. Nobody would notice 
 us, because we are so small, and if we 
 could only find out where the money-tree 
 and the jewel-trees grow, we could go 
 home and tell papa, and he and the boys 
 could go with great sacks and carry away 
 all they wanted.' 
 
 Stephen was little Amanda's king — she 
 was sure to think all he proposed right, 
 and to be ready to go where he led ; so 
 she only slipped her fat little hand into 
 his, grasping it tightly, and set forth in 
 undoubting confidence. 
 
 Scrambling over some loose, rough 
 stones, up a slight height, they entered 
 into the adit of an ancient, disused mine, 
 where, years before, silver tin had been 
 found, but the vein had given out. As is
 
 TREGARTHEX. 181 
 
 often the case in Cornwall, the adit pierced 
 the side of a hill, and the shaft of the 
 mine was sunk at some distance from the 
 entrance. 
 
 A stream of water now ran out through 
 this passage, deeper in some places than 
 others, but always shallow, and the child- 
 ren could make their way through it ; but, 
 as it came up to their ankles almost every- 
 where, they took off their shoes, and laid 
 them at the mouth of the hole. 
 
 ' You're not afraid, Mannie ?' asked 
 Stephen. 
 
 ' Xo,' said Amanda, ' I'm not afraid.' 
 
 In the dim light, the wet rocks showed 
 many tinted: dark, and orange-coloured, 
 green and dusky red; and the children 
 thought they must be coming soon to the 
 jewels. They looked back now and then, 
 and laughed to see how small grew 
 the spot of light through which they 
 had entered. Their laughter sounded
 
 182 TREGAB.THEN. 
 
 strange and hollow, not like its usual 
 sound ; it reverberated in weird fashion, 
 and Amanda thought the gnomes re- 
 peated it, mocking them, and began to cry. 
 ' Don't cry,' said Stephen, ' that's like a 
 girl. / don't cry.' 
 
 Amanda choked her tears down, but 
 turned once more to look back at the light ; 
 and, in turning, fell. Stephen helped her 
 up, wet and muddy ; they stumbled along 
 for a few steps further, looked back once 
 more — the spot of light was gone ! 
 
 ' Steenie, Steenie,' sobbed the little maid, 
 now thoroughly frightened, and unaware 
 that the passage had made a bend w^hich 
 hid the entrance from them. ' Steenie, 
 Steenie, they've put the light out !' 
 
 She fell again as she spoke, for the stones 
 were very slippery, and Stephen fell over 
 her. Bruised, frightened, cold and wet, 
 they now grew perfectly bewildered. They 
 went back a few steps, and forward a few
 
 TREGAETHEN. 183 
 
 steps, and could not remember which way 
 they had come. The manliness of seven 
 years still prevailed to prevent Stephen 
 from crying, but he had to press his lips 
 very firmly together to prevent doing so, 
 and he held his little sister's hand tightly 
 clenched in his. Her bravery was all 
 gone, and she clung to him, sobbing 
 piteously. 
 
 ' Don't cry, ]\Iannie,' said he, ^ I'll take 
 care of you.' 
 
 ' Oh ! take me home ! take me home !' 
 wailed the little maid. 
 
 ' So I will, directly I find the way,' said 
 he, plunging yet further towards the 
 shaft. 
 
 Another bend in the passage, and an 
 air-hole, pierced upwards through the hill, 
 and concealed by the growth of shrubs 
 above, threw a gleam of light once more 
 upon the dripping rocks, the sullen stream, 
 the white faces of the children. Thev
 
 184 TREGARTHEN. 
 
 looked up, and saw a star above them, 
 
 ' Is it night ?' asked Amanda. ' There is 
 a star.' 
 
 ' I don't know,' cried Stephen, doubt- 
 fully, ' it has come very quick if it is. 
 Perhaps it is like the star of Bethlehem, 
 come to show us the way. Let me think,' 
 continued he. After a pause, during 
 which he did what he called ' thinking 
 hard,' he spoke again. ' I think, Mannie, 
 we had best stay here, and wait. We can 
 see if anyone comes, and I think papa 
 will come by-and-bye. And I think, 
 Mannie, we had best say our prayers ; you 
 know we always have to say them at night, 
 and then God will keep us safely till papa 
 comes.' 
 
 ' I can't remember them,' said Amanda, 
 ' I'm so frightened.' 
 
 ' Mamma said it didn't matter much 
 what words we said, so as we speak the 
 truth to God,' said Stephen; ' so let us say
 
 TREGARTHEN. 185 
 
 " Please, God, take care of us and send 
 papa," and see if He will.' 
 
 They said their simple prayer, then 
 Stephen set his back against the rock, put 
 both arms round his sister, and held her 
 closely. Gradually, weariness overpowered 
 them both, and they slipped down into a 
 sitting posture, and fell asleep. 
 
 Surely their innocent prayer was heard, 
 for but six feet or so beyond them 
 yawned the shaft of the old mine — a 
 black gulf, filled to the brim with over- 
 flowing water, spanned by a rotten wind- 
 lass — where death most certainly awaited 
 them, beyond the power of man to save. 
 
 But a few steps further, and headlong 
 they must have fallen into that gloomy 
 pit, into the ice-cold water. But, ignorant 
 of their peril, the poor babies slept on, 
 while the star looked down upon them 
 from heaven above.
 
 186 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 FOUND. 
 
 Charles Grenfell and old Jem reached 
 the farm at Pentire, as has been said, only 
 to meet with fresh disappointment. The 
 children had not been seen ; but all the 
 men there, from the farmer himself down 
 to the youngest herd-boy, joined in the 
 search. 
 
 * I fear, sir,' said kindly farmer Wills to 
 young Grenfell, ' I fear, sir, there is but 
 little chance of finding them, poor little 
 souls. They will be washed out to sea,
 
 TREGARTHEX. 187 
 
 as likely as not. I've seen a-many wrecks 
 on the shore hereabouts, and scarcely 
 ever a body. The waves be so cruel 
 strong.' 
 
 'Poor Mrs. Selby!' said the young 
 man. 
 
 ' Ay, one feels for her, poor lady. That 
 there was a nice little chap. My missis 
 could talk of nothing else after he'd been 
 here. " I'll come and see you again very 
 soon, ma'am," saith he. She tells often 
 how pretty he spoke. '' I'll come and see 
 you again very soon, ma'am," and up he 
 put his little face to be kissed. And to 
 think that he'll never come no more ! Ah, 
 well !' 
 
 ' I have only seen their portraits,' said 
 Charles ; ' they must have been beautiful 
 children from those.' 
 
 ' Ay, they were. The flowers of the 
 flock, to my mind ; not but what Mr. 
 Horace is a mighty fine young man, and
 
 188 TREGARTHEN. 
 
 Miss Selby a sweet, pretty creature, so 
 mild and gentle. Every chield as knows 
 her hath a good word for her.' 
 
 'What has that dog found?' cried 
 Charles, running forward suddenly. 
 
 All hurried to the place. Ranger was 
 pointing, but nothing was to be seen but 
 a hole in the ground, with a bit of broken 
 fence around it. Upon his master coming 
 up, the dog began to whimper, and tear 
 up the grass and earth with his feet in 
 evident agitation. 
 
 'What is it, thou old fool?' said Jem. 
 ' Thiccee be naught but an air-hole, 
 just over the shaft of Wheal Pentire. 
 There did use to be a paling round it 
 when I wor a boy, and it should be mend- 
 ed up. 'Tis dangerous as it be.' 
 
 ' Could the children have slipped down, 
 think you ?' asked Charles, bending to 
 peer in. 
 
 ' No one has been here, or the ground
 
 TREGARTHEN. 189 
 
 would be broken up, sir,' said one of the 
 men. 
 
 ' There is a child crying down there,' 
 Charles exclaimed. ' God in heaven save 
 them !' 
 
 ' Master Steenie ! Be it thee down 
 there? Master Steenie! Little miss!' 
 called Jem. 
 
 No answer, but the dog tore \x^ the 
 grass madly. 
 
 ' I will climb down,' cried Charles. 
 ' Make way for me !' 
 
 ' No, no, sir, 'ee can't. It be a kind of 
 chimney like. 'Ed 'd slip right down a 
 top of them, and skear them into fits, or 
 knock them into the shaft. Better fetch 
 lights, and go round by the adit below.' 
 
 ' Run, Joe, run,' cried Mr. Wills. ' Run 
 home and ask the missis for candles. Run 
 for thy life, now !' 
 
 The boy rushed ofi", and headlong down 
 the hill went Charles and the rest of the
 
 190 TREGARTHEN. 
 
 men. The dog seemed to understand ; it 
 led the van, leaping and barking. Never 
 before or since did so short a descent seem 
 so long to Charles, but he reached the adit 
 first. 
 
 ' Send for their father, Wills,' shouted 
 he, passing in. 
 
 ' No, no, sir. Suppose it be a mistake, 
 don't 'ee go to give the poor gentleman 
 hope. Suppose they be dead.' 
 
 ' I tell you they were sobbing,' shouted 
 the young man, splashing into the inky 
 blackness of the adit, without waiting for 
 the light. 
 
 'Mr. Grenfell, Mr. Grenfell ! Come 
 back, sir ! There be holes, and pitfalls, 
 and what all, theer. Come back ! Let 
 one of us go ! Lord's sake, what will Sir 
 Theophilus say!' 
 
 Charles heeded not. No one could pass 
 him in that narrow opening, and the pas- 
 sage seemed as the very gateway to Hades
 
 TREGARTHEN. 191 
 
 in its darkness and danger. He could not 
 advance quickly ; loose stones, deep holes, 
 jagged projections of rock impeded his 
 path. He had matches in his pocket, and 
 struck them one by one to light his way ; 
 but each tiny flame only showed dripping 
 walls, streaming water, and perfect dark- 
 ness before and behind him. Candles 
 were brought, and old Jem, holding two 
 in his shaking hand, made his stooping- 
 advance more quickly through the slippery 
 stones and splashing mud. 
 
 ' Let me go first, sir,' said he. ' Don't 
 frighten them with a strange voice. Let 
 me speak. My pretties, come to your ma ! 
 Don't 'ee be afeared. Here be old Jem 
 come to fetch 'ee.' 
 
 A sickening silence ensued upon the 
 reverberations of his voice, which sounded 
 so ghostly and unnatural in that confined 
 space. 
 
 They stumbled on.
 
 192 TREGARTHEN. 
 
 ' Master Steenie ! Master Steenie ! My 
 pretty dears, here be old Jem!' 
 
 No answer. Charles thought of Mabel, 
 singing in the cavern, and choked. Would 
 the tender grace of that day never return 
 more without thought of this dreadful 
 event ? God help that sweet young girl. 
 Oh, might He bring comfort to her, not 
 confirmation of sorrow ! 
 
 They seemed to come to an end of the 
 excavation ; but there was a sharp turn in 
 the passage there, beyond a great mass of 
 dark green rock, veined with orange. 
 What was there, lying against its further 
 side? Not hard rock ! Soft faces. Not 
 sharp, jagged granite ! Tender childhood. 
 
 There they were. Little Amanda's 
 sweet, chubby face, pale and tear-stained, 
 clasped on her brother's breast ; while he, 
 but a baby himself, manly enough to re- 
 tain his fostering hold upon her, but too 
 childish to keep his bravery intact through
 
 TREGARTHEN. 19^ 
 
 this awful demand upon it, having cried 
 himself to sleep, and drawing each breath 
 with a sob, through the midst of that 
 blessed unconsciousness ; his golden curls 
 resting against the dripping rocks, and he 
 sitting in a pool of water. 
 
 Jem gathered him up in his arms, as 
 Charles lifted the little girl, and they ten- 
 derly carried them out. 
 
 ' Found, found ! Alive, alive !' shouted 
 men and boys. ' Hurrah ! Found ! All 
 safe !' 
 
 The sounds spread far upon the still 
 evening air, and brought a crowd running 
 fast across the sands. 
 
 Jem put Steenie into his father's arms. 
 Frank was speechless, but he grasped first 
 the old man's horny hand, and then the 
 white one of young Grenfell, with a 
 mighty grip, as he held his treasure 
 tightly. The mother threw her arms 
 around her child and the young man both, 
 
 VOL. I.
 
 194 TREGARTHEX. 
 
 and kissed first one and then the other, 
 as if both had been her children. 
 
 ' You cannot hold her, you cannot carry 
 her, dear madam,' said Charles, returning 
 her embrace with a full heart. ' Let me 
 help you both.' 
 
 He took her arm in his, and held her 
 trembling hand firmly in his warm clasp, 
 as he carried the child, and they proceeded 
 together. 
 
 Mabel had tarried for a couple of warm 
 wraps. ! She threw them over the shivering, 
 bewildered children, now crying again, 
 though half asleep ; then she sped back to 
 the house, to assist nurse and Miss Rose in 
 preparing hot baths, blankets, food for 
 them. She thought of nothing else at that 
 moment. 
 
 Horace and Dorothea attended to their 
 guests ; and, presently, Mabel came down 
 for a few minutes. 
 
 ' I do not know how we can thank you,
 
 TREGARTHEN. 195 
 
 Mr. Grenfell,' she said, offering her hand. 
 ' Steenie has come to himself, and says that 
 you went to fetch him out of that awful 
 place. Papa and mamma cannot leave 
 them, but beg me to thank you, — so very 
 much, — in their name.' 
 
 ' Your mother has thanked me in a way 
 which I shall never forget,' said Charles, 
 impulsively, not aware that he held her 
 hand in his. ' You must let me take care 
 of you, now. You are shaking from head 
 to foot. Selby, a glass of that wine. Xow, 
 my dear Miss Selby, you must take it. 
 Let me entreat you to swallow it. There, 
 there, don't cry, all is well now.' 
 
 ' 1 am sorry to be so foolish,' said Mabel, 
 no more conscious than he that he still 
 suj)ported her. ' We all feel your kind- 
 ness, but I cannot talk of it.' 
 
 'No, no, don't try. All is well now,' 
 said he, pushing a chair gently towards 
 her, and seating her on it. She sank, 
 
 o2
 
 196 TREGARTHEN. 
 
 weeping, into it, quite unnerved, and lie 
 stood gazing down upon her with tender 
 solicitude in every feature. 
 
 Matthews appeared with the carriage,, 
 and Miss Courtney was ready. 
 
 ' Good-bye,' she said. ' We must always^ 
 be friends after going through this to- 
 gether. You will be better without us 
 now.' 
 
 She kissed the girls affectionately, and 
 allowed Horace to place her in the carriage 
 and wrap her up. 
 
 ' Good-evening, Mr. Selby,' said she,, 
 shaking hands. ' I shall never forget 
 Polzeath.' 
 
 ' Good-bye, Miss Courtney. I shall 
 never forget your kindness to my mother,' 
 said he. 
 
 Miss Eose came down, and the party 
 drove away. The ladies soothed their 
 nerves by talking over the event of the 
 evening, dwelling upon every detail which
 
 TKEGARTHEN. 197 
 
 they had shared alike ; but Miss Courtney 
 never mentioned Horace, and Matthews 
 thought his young master had never been 
 so tired before, for he sat beside him with 
 folded arms, and spoke not a word the 
 whole way home. 
 
 Perhaps both of the young people, whose 
 hearts had been so stirred to the very 
 depths, through their warm sympathies that 
 day, felt a little chill, when, upon beginning 
 to relate what had happened, as they sat 
 at the dinner which had long been waiting 
 for them, they met with small attention to 
 their story. 
 
 Sir Theophilus and Lady Sarah had not 
 witnessed the anxiety, and did not realize 
 it. The old gentleman was full of the death 
 of the miller's widow; — the Mrs. Rosewarne 
 whose fostering care had been exercised 
 over the earliest childhood of himself and 
 his sister, Lady Courtney. 
 
 This woman had lived to the extreme
 
 198 TREGARTHEN. 
 
 verge of human age, and died suddenly in 
 her chair that afternoon. Sir Theophilus 
 had always been fond of her. had gone to 
 see her frequently, and provided for her 
 with the greatest liberality. 
 
 ' Poor Selby !' said he. ' It must have 
 given him a terrible fright, but the young- 
 sters are all safe, you say. Your mother 
 will feel Mrs. Rosewarne's death very 
 much, Augusta. She was ninety-two, poor, 
 dear soul ! and possessed all her faculties 
 still. A wonderful woman ! She managed 
 all the family up to the last, with the 
 greatest judgment, and just dropped off 
 without a moment's warning.' 
 
 ' I am very sorry to hear it, sir,' said 
 Charles, ' but she was full of years, and it 
 is a mercy that she did not suffer.' 
 
 ' Your father is a good deal upset,' said 
 Lady Sarah. 'But I do hope, Augusta, 
 that you do not feel shivered at all. I 
 advise you to take another glass of cham- 
 pagne, as a preventive to cold.'
 
 TKEGARTHEX. 199 
 
 Neither side was quite in sympatliy with 
 the other that evening, and all were glad 
 to retire soon. 
 
 ' I shall ride over early to see how those 
 little beggars are,' said Charles, as he bade 
 his cousin good-night. ' Shall I say any- 
 thing from you ?' 
 
 ' Oh, yes ! my dear love, and if I can do 
 anything for them, they need only com- 
 mand me.' 
 
 ' I will take your message, dear, though 
 I don't see how anybody can do much for 
 them. I hope all is going on well now, 
 but I cannot put poor Mrs. Selby's white 
 face out of my thoughts. 
 
 ' Nor can I,' said Augusta. 
 
 But there were other faces yet more 
 clear to each young person's mind's eye, 
 of which neither spoke to the other.
 
 200 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 POOR STEENIE. 
 
 It was an anxious night at Polzeath for 
 the whole family. The children, bathed, 
 warmed, and fed, fell into an exhausted 
 sleep, but their repose soon became rest- 
 less, and feverish symptoms appeared. 
 
 Neither father nor mother left them. 
 Mrs. Selby, indeed, lay down beside them, 
 but Frank sat up through the whole night, 
 watching. When Mabel crept to the door 
 in the early morning, and her father open- 
 ed it to her, she was startled to observe 
 how those hours had chans^ed him. He
 
 TREGARTHEN. 20 L 
 
 seemed to have become an old man in the 
 space of that one night, so grey and ashy 
 did he look. Her mother had fallen into 
 a light slumber, and Mr. Selby stepped 
 across the threshold, drawing the door to 
 behind him, lest their voices should awaken 
 her. 
 
 ' Papa, I have lit the kitchen fire, and 
 got some cofi'ee hot over it. Come down 
 and have a little. How cold your hands 
 are ! Come, dear, we should hear the 
 slightest sound.' 
 
 Her father let her draw him away. He 
 had eaten nothing since the hurried dinner 
 of the previous noon, and was exhausted. 
 The warmth of the fire at that chilly morn- 
 ing hour, and the fragrance of the coffee, 
 were grateful to him. Mabel had gathered 
 together a slight repast from the relics of 
 the meal which had been prepared for 
 their festivity, and she coaxed him to 
 partake of it.
 
 202 TREGARTHEN. 
 
 When she had prevailed upon him to 
 swallow enough to put fresh heart in him,, 
 she carried some up to her mother, whose 
 sleep had not lasted long, and who needed 
 refreshment as much as her husband by 
 that time. 
 
 ' May dear,' whispered she, as she re- 
 turned the cup to the girl's hand — ' May 
 dear, I wish we were at home again. If 
 the little dears are going to be ill, what 
 shall we do here, and I don't like Steenie's 
 looks at all. 1 fear that neither of them 
 can escape scot-free from such exposure 
 and cold. They were wet through and 
 through, and chilled to the bone.' 
 
 The eldest daughter in such a large 
 family could not but have gathered some 
 experience as to illness, even had it not 
 been for the last year's training in it. She 
 knew that Steenie was delicate, and that 
 he had never properly recovered from the 
 scarlet fever. She stepped round the
 
 TREGARTHEX. 205 
 
 bed, and gently felt their hands and 
 heads. 
 
 ' Mannie has a nice moisture on her 
 skin, mamma,' said she, ' though she is very 
 hot. But she must be hot so wrapped up 
 in this blanket. Aunt Rose promised to 
 send the doctor from Withiel over the first 
 thing this morning. Mr. Grenfell said 
 they would stop at his door as they drove 
 through the village. He said that Lady 
 Sarah considered him skilful as a general 
 practitioner.' 
 
 ' It was well thought of,' said ]\Irs. 
 Selby, with evident relief. ' Where is 
 your father, dear?' 
 
 ' In the kitchen, before the fire. I got 
 the large arm-chair in there, and he has 
 had some breakfast. I hope that he may 
 have dropped asleep, for he knows that I 
 am with you. Now, mamma dear, you go 
 into my bed, while I will call nurse to sit 
 with me and look after the children. You
 
 204 TREGAETHEN. 
 
 ouglit to have a good rest. What should 
 we do if you were to be ill here ?' 
 
 ' Perhaps you are right, my love. I have 
 a terrible headache. It may j)ass off if I 
 €ould have a sound sleep.' 
 
 Mabel saw her mother undressed, and 
 comfortably laid down. She administered 
 some soothing drops to her, set the window 
 open to the sweet early morning air, and 
 the lullaby of the waves breaking gently 
 from the soft mists upon the sunny beach. 
 Then she fetched nurse, and peeped at 
 her father, who had in fact yielded to her 
 gentle wiles, and, with his feet outstretch- 
 ed upon a second chair, had sank back 
 upon the cushions of that in which he sat, 
 and fallen asleep in the glow of the lire. 
 
 She mended the fire softly, carried up 
 some coffee to nurse, and shared an early 
 breakfast with her as they took the watch. 
 All was so still, so peaceful, so calm after 
 the excitement,^the horrible anxiety, —
 
 TREGARTHEN. 205 
 
 that the sense of repose was exquisitely 
 delicious to the thoughtful girl. Xurse 
 dozed by the bedside, and she sat looking 
 out upon the sea. 
 
 Mist huno; like a veil over its heavino^ 
 expanse, preluding a hot day. Sea-birds 
 fed upon the moist sands whence the 
 waves were now retreating, for it was seven 
 o'clock ; but all was still in the house, 
 everyone being tired, and it was better to 
 let them rest. 
 
 Suddenly, in the stillness, was heard the 
 distant beat of horse's hoofs. It could not 
 be the doctor, come already ? The sound 
 was that of a rider, not of a farm horse 
 plodding heavily to work. The little ones 
 were in a deep sleep, nurse breathing 
 heavily with slumber. Mabel stole from the 
 room, and went down to the door. 
 
 As she set it open, noiselessly, she was 
 startled to see no elderly surgeon such as 
 she expected, but the figure of Mr. Charles
 
 206 TKEGARTHEN. 
 
 Grenfell. He had dismounted, held the 
 bridle of his horse over his arm, and stood, 
 flushed, handsome, smiling, yet a little 
 abashed before her. She was as unex- 
 pected a sight to him as he to her, and he 
 stammered out his greeting with a mixture 
 of sensations that he did not attempt to 
 analyse. 
 
 ' Mr. Grenfell !' cried May. ' Is there 
 anything amiss?' 
 
 'No, no, Miss Selby. Nothing at all. 
 Only, — I thought, — it seemed to me, — I 
 considered — that your aunt would be glad 
 to hear, the first thing, that none of you 
 are any worse for your alarm last night.' 
 
 ' It is very kind of you,' said May, 
 astounded at the idea that he had ridden 
 ten miles at that early hour, simply to 
 enquire for them, and turning over in her 
 own mind what she could do with him. 
 Not a servant nor another creature 
 but herself awake or presentable ; — not a
 
 TREGARTHEN. 207 
 
 place where she could ask hmi in to rest! 
 
 ' It is very kind of you, but you do not 
 mean to say that you have ridden from 
 Tregarthen so early, on purpose !' 
 
 ' Oh ! I very often take an early ride. 
 That is nothing, I shall be at home to 
 breakfast.' 
 
 ^ I am so sorry,' hesitated she. * Papa 
 and mamma have been up all night with the 
 children, and are now asleep. We were 
 all late, and nobody is down-stairs yet. 
 Will you walk in, and I will call papa?' 
 
 ' By no means. I did not come to give 
 you any trouble, only to ask how the little 
 children are, and your mother — Indeed, I 
 should be glad to assure your aunt that 
 none of you are any the worse.' 
 
 ' I fear that the children must be ill 
 after their wetting and chill. They have 
 not long recovered from scarlet fever, and 
 my little brother has always been delicate. 
 They have been very feverish through the
 
 208 TREGARTHEN. 
 
 night, and are now asleep. Were you kind 
 enough to ask the doctor to come over this 
 morning?' 
 
 ' We did call, and he will be here as 
 early as possible, but I will see him again 
 as I return. I am so sorry. Miss Selby. I 
 trust that there may not be much amiss. 
 Is there anything which my mother can 
 do?' 
 
 ' No, thank you. Indeed, we are so 
 crowded in this house, that there is no room 
 for kind helpers. But I hope that there is 
 not much wrong. Children pull through 
 such things wonderfully very often.' 
 
 'And what a charming afternoon you 
 gave us yesterday. Miss Selby. I never 
 enjoyed anything half so much, and my 
 cousin is so delighted with your clever 
 sister, and was so enchanted with your fete. 
 She desires me to give you her love.' 
 
 ' I am very glad to hear you were 
 pleased. Dora has quite an artist's nature,'
 
 TREGARTHEN. 209" 
 
 said Mabel gratified, yet hearing sounds 
 behind her which made her wish he would 
 go, so that she might be free to mount 
 guard again. 
 
 Perhaps he noticed the uneasiness in 
 her eyes, for he held out his hand. 
 
 ' I will not detain you now. I am sure 
 that you must want to be rid of me, but I 
 may come again, may I not? I shall 
 drive Augusta over as soon as I know that 
 the little ones are better.' 
 
 May could hardly respond properly. 
 She was debating whether she ought to 
 offer him any refreshment, conscious that 
 all the coffee which she had prepared had 
 been drunk up ; that her father must be 
 disturbed if she went into the kitchen to 
 boil more ; that there was not a drop more 
 milk to be had until old Jem arrived with 
 the morning's supply ; and that there was 
 no one to do the work but herself. 
 
 ' Good-bye.' said she, in desperation, 'it 
 
 A''OL. I. P
 
 210 TREGARTHEN. 
 
 is very kind of you to come over in this 
 way.' 
 
 ' I could do no less,' replied he, mounting 
 his horse, and waving his hand in farewell. 
 
 It was her father whom Mabel had heard 
 moving. He stood before the fire where 
 the embers had sunk down to a mere hand- 
 ful, and was yawning in a portentous 
 manner. 
 
 'Oh! It is you, my dear, is it? I 
 thought I heard voices. Has the doctor 
 come already ?' 
 
 ' No, papa, it was Mr. Grenfell, who had 
 ridden over to enquire !' 
 
 ' Mr. Grenfell ! Where is he ?' 
 
 ' Gone again.' 
 
 Frank laughed. 
 
 ' So that is the way you treat your 
 young men, is it ! Expect them to ride 
 twenty miles before breakfast, and never 
 ask them over the threshold, or give them 
 bite or sup ! May, I am ashamed of you !'
 
 TREGARTHEN. 211 
 
 ' Papa !' cried poor May, almost ready to 
 cry. ' What could I have done ? Where 
 could I have put him V 
 
 But Frank only lau<;^hed the more at 
 her. He was refreshed by his repast and 
 his sleep, his natural light-heartedness was 
 ready to re-assert itself once more. 
 
 ' Well !' he said. ' I think I shall go and 
 have a bathe. Call Horace and the boys, 
 my dear, they may as well come too, and, 
 while we are gone, you can see whether 
 you can find breakfast for anyone. Your 
 mother gone to bed ? That is well. And 
 the little ones asleep? Good heavens, 
 Mabel ! What a fright those plaguey little 
 brats gave us !' 
 
 Mabel was glad to see the group of men 
 and boys go off with their towels, for there 
 was so much to be done. Baby was crying, 
 she heard Amanda's voice with a wail in 
 it, and Steenie's extremely hoarse. 
 
 She made up the fire, and set water on 
 
 p2
 
 212 TREGARTHEN. 
 
 to boil before their one servant appeared. 
 Her sisters were getting up, tired and a 
 little cross. Dorothea was never of much 
 use in housework, she hated the drudgery, 
 and her head was always filled with other 
 matters. Felicia was her shadow, and Eva 
 too young to be of material assistance ; but, 
 among them all, some order was evolved 
 out of the chaos in the parlour, and the 
 breakfast-table set while Mabel went up to 
 the children, and nurse dressed the baby. 
 
 Mrs. Selby's headache was severe, she 
 could not rise ; the children were very un- 
 well, particularly Steenie, who was in high 
 fever, and May was extremely uneasy 
 about him. 
 
 All her fears were justified when the 
 doctor arrived. Amanda was in the first 
 stage of a violent inflammatory cold, her 
 throat much affected. Careful nursing 
 would, however, in all probability, save 
 her from a serious illness ; but Stephen
 
 TREGARTHEX. 213 
 
 was threatened with rheumatic fever, and 
 his symptoms were very grave. The time 
 of year was in his favour, and he was in 
 excellent fresh air, they must hope for the 
 best ; but that he had recovered so recently 
 from scarlet-fever was unfortunate, as also 
 that, in this house, only intended for a 
 month or two of sea-side frolic and bathing 
 for persons in fair health, there were no 
 appliances for invalids or severe illness. 
 
 It was impossible, however, to move the 
 child, they must do as well as they could. 
 
 Mrs. Selby, well practised in nursing, 
 fertile in resource, made the most of such 
 material as she possessed, and settled 
 down to ^ght with the disease bravely. 
 
 It needed all her skill, all her courage, 
 all her endurance. Racked with pain, 
 wasted by fever, the poor child's sufferings 
 were heartrending to behold. Day and 
 night his feeble moan rang through and 
 through their ears ; step by step were they
 
 214 TREGARTHEN. 
 
 beaten back in their struggles to reduce 
 tbe disorder; nearer and nearer the verge 
 of the grave came the little fellow; yet 
 still the mother's eyes were tearless, her 
 spirit still high to combat. 
 
 Not so the father. Poor tender-hearted 
 Frank could not bear to witness the little 
 boy's pain ; he would not leave him, he 
 could not touch him ; he was hopeless from 
 the first, nor could he string himself up to 
 enforce the remedies which seemed to be 
 such torture ; he broke down time after 
 time into pitiful grief, and was upon his 
 wife's hands almost as much as the child 
 was. 
 
 Nurse was skilful and experienced, and 
 Mabel now graduated in woman's hardest 
 tasks ; her mother sighed out many a time, 
 ' What should I do without you. May 
 dear !' 
 
 Amanda was very unwell for several 
 days, then took a sudden turn, and re-
 
 TREGARTHEN. 215 
 
 covered fast. The baby had been thriving 
 in the sea-air ever since she had been 
 brought to Polzeath, and gave but little 
 trouble ; and at last Steenie's fever began 
 to abate, the rheumatism to lessen, and 
 the chance for his life to increase day by 
 day. 
 
 After the first day or two, help also came 
 from Withiel. As soon as the Miss Selbys 
 understood the state of things at Polzeath, 
 they were eager to help. They took the 
 twin boys to their cottage, and the two 
 younger girls, but had no room for more. 
 Still this clearance was of great use, and 
 presently help came also from Tregarthen.
 
 216 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 THE SHADOW OF A DARK WING. 
 
 Whilst the young people had been at 
 Polzeath on that eventful day. Lady Sarah 
 had sat alone, gazing wistfully out of her 
 window over the wide expanse of park and 
 country which stretched before her. 
 
 She sat in her own private sitting-room, 
 opening from her own particular suite of 
 rooms, fitted up with every daintiness and 
 comfort which the heart of woman could 
 desire. The walls were hung with chintz, 
 of a delicate blue tone of colour, which 
 threw up the rich carving of the oak
 
 TREGARTHEN. 217 
 
 etageres and brackets that held such a 
 wealth of lovely china. Carved oak, in 
 bordered shelves and twisted pillared sup- 
 ports, surrounded the fire-place, and rose 
 to the very ceiling, laden with exquisite 
 Dresden figures ; Sevres vases ; Chelsea 
 ruralities, of creamy hue, Spring, Summer, 
 Autumn, and Winter, for ever ofi'ering 
 baskets of suitable emblems ; and blue 
 Wedgwood ware covered with Flaxman's 
 designs in transparent white. There was 
 no fire now in the grate ; lovely flowers 
 filled it instead with glowing cheerfulness ; 
 and a profusion of flowers filled the balcony 
 upon which glass doors were set wide open, 
 letting in the summer air that gently 
 swelled the curtains of blue silk and white 
 lace. 
 
 A few choice water-coloured pictures 
 were there, but not many books, for Lady 
 Sarah was no great reader. A little of 
 the fashionable light literature of the day
 
 218 TKEGARTHEN. 
 
 satisfied her cravings in that line. What 
 had she to read for ? 
 
 What reason had she for doing anything, 
 indeed ? It was better to pay others for 
 doing even any fancy work for which 
 she wished, than to do it herself ; for there 
 were poor ladies to whom such employ- 
 ment meant bread. Why take it from 
 their mouths ? 
 
 She loved old china, but she possessed 
 so much that she seldom found any 
 specimen worthy of being added to her 
 collection. 
 
 She was fond of pictures, but did not 
 draw. She could not satisfy her own 
 fastidious taste in that line ; — it was easier 
 to buy, from the wall of exhibitions, much 
 better ones than she could ever paint. 
 
 She was no musician. She was 
 charitable, but charity yielded her no oc- 
 cupation. What the poor needed were 
 blankets, shoes, food in hard times, kitchen
 
 TREGARTHEN. 219 
 
 physic in sickness. Public charities 
 wanted money; handsome subscriptions, 
 for distribution by those who understood 
 the matter, were better to give than 
 intermeddling with what she did not 
 comprehend. 
 
 She had no particular pleasure in the 
 luxury that surrounded her, for Lady 
 Sarah's was not a vulgar mind. Dress, 
 display, fineries, show, possessed no great 
 charms to her ; she had always been able 
 to have what was suitable and proper for 
 every occasion, and cared for no more. 
 She had never been obliged to wait, save, 
 make sacrifices, struggle, for anything 
 Avhatever which she desired, therefore 
 she could not estimate the value of her 
 comforts and refinements. 
 
 But what her heart craved for was that 
 which no money could buy, no position 
 secure for her; and Lady Sarah was a 
 disappointed, discontented woman, in the
 
 220 TREGARTHEN. 
 
 midst of all that to many a woman, lead- 
 ing a life of terrible deprivation, though 
 with tastes for refinement and culture, 
 would have seemed such bliss. 
 
 She wanted her beloved son to take a 
 place in the eyes of the world; to dis- 
 tinguish himself; to be talked of, admired, 
 looked up to, considered ; to be one of the 
 leading men in the country ; and no am- 
 bition could be stirred up in the young 
 man's soul. 
 
 Had Lady Sarah but known it, possible 
 stimulus lay easily at her hand. 
 
 How many a hard-working man and 
 woman, of gentle birth and breeding, yet 
 sadly slender purse, would have blessed 
 her for an invitation to spend a short spring 
 or summer holiday in that lovely place. 
 Men and women whose writings were 
 eagerly welcomed as influences by all 
 classes ; whose teachings were most 
 valuable ; whose preachings Avere a
 
 TREGARTHEN. 22 1 
 
 guidance ; but who had not yet reaped the 
 reward for their work, and perhaps never 
 would. 
 
 The wives of such men are bravely 
 struggling in secret, with unlovely details 
 of cooking, cleaning, sewing ; passing lives 
 devoid of all the ease and beauty which 
 they could so greatly appreciate, for the 
 sake of the love they bear to husband or 
 child. 
 
 The society of such women could only 
 have been an honour to her ladyship^ 
 might she win their friendship. They 
 and theirs might have brought examples 
 before the eyes of her lotus-eating boy 
 that would have spurred him to work for 
 very shame. 
 
 Standing upon a great London railway- 
 station, on the Saturday morning before an 
 August bank-holiday, many a lesson may 
 be read of the working lives among 
 cultured people to whom a day's breathing
 
 222 TKEGARTHEN. 
 
 space in the country is a rare delight from 
 simple need of money to gratify it. 
 
 Here may be seen the young husband 
 and wife, going off together to fish. They 
 have bought some humble wherewithal 
 en route to the station, and are arranging 
 it, w^ith glee, as they await the train. 
 The otI's thick boots are patched; her 
 gloves mended; the volume of poetry 
 sticking half out of her jacket pocket is 
 well worn ; but her voice is that of a lady, 
 both of their faces show the unmistakable 
 signs of gentle birth ; both are young- 
 enough to enjoy life. 
 
 ' Mary,' whispers the young man, sud- 
 denly, in some dismay, ' did you remem- 
 ber to bring the luncheon ?' 
 
 With what girlish triumph she lifts a 
 basket into sight ! It has been tucked in 
 ambush beneath the bench on which they 
 sit. 
 
 ' Cold ham and salad !' cries she.
 
 TREGARTHEN. 223 
 
 * Scones and jam ! We shall need to buy 
 nothing but your glass of ale, either 
 day !' 
 
 ' What a little woman it is !' says he, 
 admiringly. ' She never forgets any- 
 thing !' 
 
 A little further off is a group of young 
 lady teachers, friends. 
 
 ' Where is Xelly ?' cries one. 
 
 Up comes Nelly, radiant, flourishing the 
 current number of the Idler. 
 
 ' What did possess you to buy that^ cry 
 her companions, in disgust. 
 
 ' I'm going to be idle for three whole 
 days,' cries Xelly, exultingly. 'What 
 could I buy better !' 
 
 Feals of merriment resound from the 
 girls to whom idleness is such a treat in 
 their hard-working lives. 
 
 People like this, toiling in shabby lodg- 
 ings, wearing unfashionable dress, living 
 upon homely, often untempting food, are
 
 224 TREGARTIIEN. 
 
 yet furnishing the novels, children's books, 
 magazine articles deemed worthy to amuse 
 the leisure hours of wealthier people ; they 
 are quite fit to educate their boys and girls ; 
 to be patronized when they have made 
 their names known to all England ; they^ 
 some, many of them, might have been 
 valuable assistants to this great lady in 
 her need of help ; but she had no acquaint- 
 ance with ' persons of that class.' They 
 were out of her sphere, out of her reach. 
 Perhaps all the better for them. 
 
 Lady Sarah had made a venture in this 
 direction by engaging Mr. Jackson as tutor 
 for Charles, and it had not succeeded. 
 
 She knew that the youngsters did not 
 take to each other ; — that Mr. Jackson had 
 no influence over Charles, yet could not 
 understand why. The tutor, if one of that 
 sort of person,' was quite gentlemanly, and 
 very well behaved. But, oh dear! how 
 fatal it is to real likino; of a man when
 
 TREGAKTHEN. 225 
 
 such praise is his first and strongest re- 
 commendation ! 
 
 Would Augusta rouse her cousin up to 
 work ? Did she desire that she should be 
 the one to do so ? 
 
 Augusta was much more elegant, 
 much prettier than she expected. She 
 was cultured, enthusiastic, interested in 
 many things, even eager about books and 
 pictures ; but — but — what was it which 
 was not to Lady Sarah's taste ? 
 
 She could not define it herself. It could 
 not, surely, be a certain lack of common- 
 sense, but it was something like it. Charlie 
 seemed more inclined to smile indulgent- 
 ly at her than to be influenced towards 
 greater earnestness by her. He was very 
 fond of her, evidently, but played with 
 her more than agreed with any serious 
 feeling. 
 
 So her ladyship sat, chafing in spirit ; — 
 eating her heart out, without satisfying 
 
 VOL. I. Q
 
 226 TREGARTHEN. 
 
 her hunger, or knowing where to turn for 
 more wholesome food. 
 
 Sir Theophilus came in. 
 
 ' Will you give me a cup of tea with you 
 this afternoon, Sarah?' asked he. ' I have 
 had quite a shock.' 
 
 ' What is the matter ?' asked she anxious- 
 ly, looking at his troubled face. 
 
 ' Well, nothing that touches us at home, 
 my dear. But I called in to see my old 
 nurse, Mrs. Rosewarne, and found that she 
 had just been struck with apoplexy. She 
 died while I was there.' 
 
 ' I am very sorry, my love,' said Lady 
 Sarah. ' Tea directly,' said she to the man 
 who answered her summons. ' She was 
 an old woman,' turning back to her hus- 
 band, soothingly. 
 
 ' Yes, a very old woman. She could not 
 have lived much longer, but it is hard to 
 part with old friends. She was like a 
 mother to Diana and myself for many
 
 TREGARTHEN. 227 
 
 years. We have always been fond of 
 her.' 
 
 ' She has a son, has she not? Why did 
 he not succeed his father in the mill, and 
 look after her in her old age ?' 
 
 ' My father did not like him. He 
 advised me not to encourage his settling 
 here ; and, I do not know why, I have 
 always had a prejudice against the 
 fellow myself.' 
 
 ' But he has that public-house close to 
 lis in town, has he not?' 
 
 ' Yes, that house does not belong to me, 
 he rents it from some city firm of lawyers 
 who act for a minor. The property is held 
 in trust, and cannot be sold until the 
 owner comes of age. I do not like Rose- 
 warne being so mixed up with our men, 
 but his house is well conducted ; he gives 
 me no handle against him ; yet I do not 
 like the man, it vexes me to brush against 
 him so often if I visit the stables. There is 
 
 q2
 
 228 TREGARTHEN. 
 
 an insolence about him which annoys me 
 greatly. It is one among other reasons 
 which causes me to dislike our town 
 house.' 
 
 ' Is this more than mere prejudice, Sir 
 Theophilus ? Are you not rather hard on 
 the man ? I have seen him, and his manner 
 was perfectly respectful.' 
 
 ' Why, my dear, it is not exactly mere 
 prejudice, yet I do not know what else to 
 call it. Last year, when Gill died, the 
 mill and farm had to be relet, and Rose- 
 warne made a high bid for it. I decided 
 that my good father would never have said 
 to me what he did without reason, and I 
 acted accordingly, accepting a lower offer. 
 Rosev/arne, of course, said nothing to me,, 
 but he was very much put out. He ex- 
 pressed himself violently in the hearing of 
 my agent, and said that he could make the 
 old fool — meaning me — repent of it. Lane 
 asked me if I knew of any hold which the
 
 TREGARTHEX. 229 
 
 fellow could suppose he held over me, to 
 justify such language, but I am not aware 
 of any.' 
 
 ' Do you know what caused your father's 
 dislike, or have you any idea as to what 
 occasioned it ?' 
 
 ' I fancy that it arose in connection with 
 an unfortunate love affair of my eldest 
 brother, poor Charles, with a very pretty 
 and very giddy sister of his. Charles 
 was headstrong about it, and about his 
 attachment to her brother, and our father 
 had grave reasons for disapproval of the 
 whole affair. Something displeased him 
 particularly after poor Charles's death, but 
 he never explained to me what it was. I 
 was but a child at the time, and James 
 was alive then. When he spoke to me 
 about it, he was very ill, and could not talk 
 much. The old woman, I believe, behaved 
 very well about it, and kept Rosewarne in 
 -check. My father never withdrew his
 
 230 TKEGARTHEN. 
 
 protection from her, but Diana and I were 
 removed from her care at that time. She 
 often visited us in the nursery however, 
 afterwards.' 
 
 ' This is all an old story,' said Lady 
 Sarah. ' If nothing has come of it during 
 so many years, it is hardly likely that any- 
 thing will now. Do not be nervous. You 
 are upset by the poor old body dying in 
 that way while you were with her. I am 
 very sorry that you should have been 
 there.' 
 
 She did her best to turn her husband's 
 thoughts, but without much success. A. 
 presentiment of evil seemed to have cast 
 a darksome wing over him ; and there 
 never had been the close intercommunity 
 of heart and soul between them that 
 enabled Mrs. Selby to be such comfort in 
 trouble to Frank. She did not possess the 
 same tenderness of nature. 
 
 She felt her powerlessness, and the effort
 
 TREGAETHEX. 231 
 
 was a task to her, not a labour of love. It 
 oppressed and wearied her extremely, nor 
 did she see any adequate cause for so 
 much depression. It was only a worthy 
 old servant of the family who had died. 
 What was there in that to upset Sir 
 Theophilus so much ? 
 
 When the party returned from Polzeath,^ 
 she was quite exhausted by her efforts,. 
 and a little cross because dinner had been 
 kept waiting so long.
 
 232 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 THE PICNIC AT BEDRUTHAN. 
 
 Lady Sarah was anxious to find suitable 
 companionship for her niece, and to keep 
 her cheerfully amused during her visit ; 
 but many difficulties had arisen, for al- 
 most all her acquaintances, within easy 
 reach, were in town for the season ; and, 
 among such families as were still in the 
 country, few young people were to be 
 found. 
 
 There would be plenty when the shoot- 
 ing began in September, but this was 
 such a dead time of the year. 
 
 ' Miss Courtney has never seen Bed-
 
 TREGARTHEX. 233 
 
 ruthan,' Rose Selby had said a week pre- 
 viously. ' Do you not think that she 
 would enjoy a little picnic there? The 
 tides will be just right for seeing the 
 caverns at Forth, too, in a few days.' 
 
 ' Yes,' said Lady Sarah, doubtfully. ' It 
 is a long way, but Augusta is quite strong 
 enough for that. The question is, who 
 could be asked to go with her?' 
 
 Several families were suggested, but 
 none seemed to be suitable when dis- 
 cussed. 
 
 ' The Carthuans !' cried Miss Rose. ' Is 
 it not a long time since you have shown 
 them any attention ? The girls are very 
 well brought u^d, — nice lady-like girls, — 
 we could take them up on our way. The 
 two Miss Carthuans, Miss Courtney and I 
 would fill the barouche. Mr. Jackson and 
 Mr. Grenfell could ride, or Mr. Jackson go 
 on the box. I believe he does not care 
 about riding.'
 
 234 TREGAETHEN. 
 
 ' Yes, that miglit do,' said Lady Sarah. 
 ' Do write for me, my dear Rose, and ask 
 Mr. and Mrs. Carthuan to dine here, and 
 take the girls home at night. We might 
 have Dr. Cole to meet them. Mr. Carthuan 
 would enjoy an archaeological chat with the 
 doctor. He wants to restore his church, 
 and the doctor is such an authority upon 
 church architecture, you know.' 
 
 ' This makes eleven,' said Miss Rose, 
 counting upon her fingers. ' You could 
 take one gentleman more, to make the 
 places at table even.' 
 
 ' Mr. Grant ?' proposed her ladyship, 
 with slight hesitation. ' Would he come, 
 do you think ? Poor Mrs. Grant has not 
 been dead twelve months yet.' 
 
 ' He dined with the rector a week or 
 two ago,' said Miss Rose. ' I believe that 
 he was glad to be asked, as he feels his 
 loneliness so terribly. He brought his 
 little girl one day, and took tea with us. 
 We were so sorry for him.'
 
 TKEGARTHEN. 235 
 
 ' Well, ask him, he can but refuse if he 
 does not like to visit yet,' said Lady Sarah. 
 ' I wish the rector were at home, he would 
 have suited better with Mr. Carthuan and 
 Dr. Cole. I do not think Mr. Grant cares 
 at all about ancient churches.' 
 
 All the invitations were accepted ; every- 
 thing in train. The carriage was to leave 
 Tregarthen at twelve; it was to be a 
 waggonette, not the barouche, for Lady 
 Sarah thought that the two young men had 
 better go in company with the ladies, to 
 amuse them upon the long drive. 
 
 The day was perfection ; the carriage 
 stood at the door ; the ladies had break- 
 fasted, and were putting on their hats ; 
 servants were bringing out hampers, 
 wraps, cushions ; all were ready ; — but 
 where was Charles ? 
 
 He had not yet made his appearance, 
 and no one knew where he was. 
 
 ' Mr. Grenfell rode out early, my lady,*" 
 said his man. ' I cannot say where.'
 
 236 TREGARTHEN. 
 
 ' Let breakfast be kept hot for him,' said 
 his mother. ' How tiresome of him to play 
 us such a trick to-day. Do you know 
 where he went, Mr. Jackson ?' 
 
 No, Mr. Jackson knew no more than the 
 rest. 
 
 ' It is really too bad of him,' exclaimed 
 his mother, fretfully. ' This delay will 
 spoil the whole day.' 
 
 ' Mr. Grenfell is now riding down the 
 avenue, my lady,' said the butler. 
 
 ' Mr. Jackson,' said Lady Sarah, ' will 
 you kindly hurry him to get ready. You 
 really ought to start almost at once. The 
 Miss Carthuans will think that you are 
 not coming at all, and he has had no 
 breakfast.' 
 
 Up came the delinquent, not at all 
 fully impressed with the sense of his 
 iniquities. 
 
 ' What ! Ready for a start? Really I 
 did not know I was so late. The morning
 
 TREGARTHEN. 237 
 
 was SO lovely that I rode home slowly. 
 I'm as hungry as a hunter. Purvis ! I& 
 there any breakfast for me ? Mother ! I 
 must satisfy the pangs of hunger first, but 
 I won't be long.' 
 
 ' Where have you been, Charles ?' 
 
 ' To Polzeath.' 
 
 ' Polzeath ! This morning ! What 
 possessed you to go off there, when you 
 knew that there was the picnic to 
 Bedruthan to-day !' 
 
 'Well, I thought Miss Rose would be 
 glad to know that her little niece and 
 nephew were none the worse for their 
 escapade last night. I am sorry to say that 
 the}^ do not appear to have come off scot 
 free, Miss Rose. Your eldest niece did 
 not give a very good account of them.' 
 
 ' Charles ! Don't stop to talk now ! 
 Here are the cutlets, you can tell Miss 
 Rose all about it as you go along. Da 
 make haste.'
 
 238 TREGARTHEN. 
 
 Charles shrugged his shoulders, and 
 devoted himself to his breakfast. His 
 mother worried him. He choked down an 
 insufficient meal, scalded his throat by try- 
 ing to swallow tea too hot for him, rushed 
 up to his room to change his clothes 
 against time ; his man had put out for him 
 the wrong suit ; there was no time to make 
 any alteration. He kicked off his riding- 
 boots, dragged on those prepared for him, 
 knew that they were too tight for comfort ; 
 and ran down again, feeling as if everything 
 were a tort et a travers. 
 
 It was not a successful party. The day 
 was very hot ; Augusta was languid. Miss 
 Rose tired after yesterday's excursion, 
 and anxious about the state of things in 
 her brother's family. Charles was decid- 
 edly cross ; Mr. Jackson wanted to have 
 been left at home for his private studies. 
 Under no circumstances would he have 
 been the man to help a picnic to go off
 
 TREGARTHEN. 239 
 
 well, neither were the Miss Carthuans the 
 right sort of girls. They were very much 
 afraid of Miss Courtney ; wished to ap- 
 pear to advantage, but did not know how, 
 and they bored her inexpressibly. 
 
 ' Do you sing?' asked she of the eldest 
 Miss Carthuan. 
 
 'Yes, a little,' was the reply. ' I dote 
 on music. Mamma says I am never happy 
 away from the piano.' 
 
 ' Yes ?' drawled Miss Courtney, unin- 
 terested in this fact. 
 
 ' Will you sing something for us here ?' 
 asked Miss Rose, finding the conversation 
 drag. 
 
 ' I have no music with me,' said the 
 young lady. 
 
 ' Let us have something that needs no 
 music,' cried Charles, making a desperate 
 effort. ' Let us sing the " Three Blind 
 Mice." Come, Miss Rose, begin.' 
 
 Miss Rose complied, good-naturedly, in
 
 240 TREGARTHEN. 
 
 her cracked thin voice, which had once 
 been sweet. It was quite drowned by the 
 stentorian tones in which Charles followed 
 suit, but the Miss Carthuans laughed so 
 much at ' Mr. Grenfell's drollery,' that they 
 could not sing at all. The catch fell to 
 the ground, and Charles felt like a fool for 
 having proposed it. 
 
 Dead silence ensued. Miss Rose had a 
 strong sense of responsibility upon her, 
 and tried to introduce conversation. 
 
 ' Does not this beautiful expanse of sea 
 make one remember Byron's fine lines : — 
 
 " Roll on, thou deep, dark blue ocean, roll." ' 
 ' I never read any of Byron's poems,' 
 said the second Miss Carthuan. ' Mamma 
 says they are not proper for young girls.' 
 Augusta's lips curled, in a manner 
 which her cousin understood; and he 
 hastened to forestall what might be com- 
 ing next. 
 
 ' Have you read " Adam and Eve " ?'
 
 TREGARTHEN. 241 
 
 asked he. ' Is not Cornish scenery ad- 
 mirably described in that story ?' 
 
 ' I don't know it,' was the answer. ' Papa 
 does not approve of novels.' 
 
 ' Oh ! yes ; he lets us read historical 
 ones, sometimes,' cried the other sister. 
 ' Perhaps he would let us read that if Mr. 
 Grenfell recommended it. Is it a pretty 
 tale, Mr. Grenfell? Is it founded on 
 Scripture history?' 
 
 Charles roared with laughter; even 
 Miss Courtney smiled, — contemptuously. 
 
 ' I was not aware that the Adam and 
 Eve of Scripture lived in Cornwall,' said 
 she, with a faint sneer. 
 
 Miss Carthuan looked puzzled and 
 uncomprehending. 
 
 ' What do you read chiefly?' asked 
 Charles, willing to follow the young 
 ladies' clue if they could not follow 
 his. 
 
 ' We read history,' was the reply. ' We 
 
 VOL. I. R
 
 242 TREGARTHEN. 
 
 are reading Macaulay's History of Eno^land 
 aloud now.' 
 
 ^Oh!' said Charles. 
 
 Miss Rose understood her company 
 better than the young people did. 
 
 ' How are you getting on with the work 
 for your bazaar?' asked she. 
 
 ' Oh ! we have such lovely things sent 
 down from our cousin in London !' cried 
 the girls. ' They are made of coloured 
 paper, and cost so little to make, and are 
 so very eiFective. I should like you to see 
 them. There are lamp-shades, wreathed 
 with paper flowers ; and the sweetest little 
 owls you ever saw ; and a cardboard doll 
 with six changes of dress, all in paper ! 
 I would so like to show them to you, Miss 
 Courtney!' 
 
 Miss Carthuan warmed up at last into 
 enthusiasm ; but it was now Augusta's 
 turn to be unresponsive. She would not 
 talk about paper-dolls' frocks.
 
 TREGARTHEN. 243 
 
 ' Yes,' drawled she, in her most affected 
 Yoice. 
 
 Charles yawned. Mr. Jackson looked 
 severely at him. 
 
 'These bazaars,' quoth the voice of wis- 
 dom, ' may be made vast engines for good. 
 They bring things of brightness and beauty 
 into the unlovely homes of the poor, who 
 could never afford more costly adorn- 
 ments. Even a cottager, a day labourer's 
 wife, could afford to purchase a little col- 
 oured paper, did she but know how to use 
 such a thing to advantage.' 
 
 ' Our Withiel folks all know that 
 already,' said Charles, laughing. ' Our 
 butcher is a man of taste, he sticks paper 
 flags into all the joints in his shop at 
 Christmas, and has red and yellow tissue 
 paper Jacob's ladders, festooning the 
 whole place.' 
 
 ' Just fancy poor old Betty Rogers, 
 
 r2
 
 244 TREGARTHEN. 
 
 sitting clown to make fly-catchers,' said 
 Miss Rose. 
 
 ' Betty Rogers has a feeling for high 
 art/ said Charles. ' She got half-a-crown 
 out of me a little while ago, and had her 
 photo taken. She told me all about it. 
 " I've been and gone and had my image 
 took, Master Charles," said she. " Cry 
 gemini ! It were a beautiful image, too. 
 The chield tooked me a-seated on a sofy- 
 seat like any lady, with my hands afore 
 me, and my best brooch stuck in to front 
 of me. Thiccee one with my poor dear 
 man's face on it, as like him as he can 
 stare. Beatrice Jane, she made me up a 
 clane cap, and lent me a fine collar, and 
 there I be, smiling, as happy as a grig. 
 Oh ! it were a lovely image. I gived it 
 to my son, and says he, ' Mawther ! there 
 be ne'er a chield in Withiel would ha' 
 knowed this for you !' He were pleased^ 
 he were." '
 
 TREGARTHEN. 245 
 
 Miss Rose laughed, Augusta smiled, 
 Mr. Jackson looked solemn, and Miss 
 'Carthuan cried, 
 
 ' Oh, Mr. Grenfell ! how funny you 
 are !' 
 
 But the conversation lano-uished ao^ain 
 after this, though Mr. Jackson rather im- 
 pressed the eldest Miss Carthuan Avith an 
 appreciation of his good sense. After 
 lunch, she strolled about the beach with 
 him, discussing the welfare of the poor. 
 He laid down the law on the subject of 
 social science ; while she listened ad- 
 miringly. 
 
 Charles and Augusta walked off to- 
 gether, and talked over the Selby family 
 to their hearts' content ; while Miss Rose 
 entertained the younger Miss Carthuan 
 over bazaar matters, and promised to un- 
 dertake a dairy stall at it, in Welsh 
 costume. 
 
 None of them were sorry when the
 
 246 TREGAETHEN. 
 
 waggonette was ready for their return. 
 Miss Courtney wrapped herself up in a 
 large shawl, and closed her eyes; while 
 Charles yawned portentously, and poor 
 Miss Rose, more tired than any, laboured 
 hard to keep up the ball of conversation. 
 
 Things went on better after all were 
 strengthened by their dinner. 
 
 Mrs. Carthuan had brought her daugh- 
 ters' music, and they sang rather feeble 
 duets, while Mr. Jackson turned over the 
 leaves for them ; and Charles did the civil 
 in applauding. 
 
 Miss Courtney dreamed over a book of 
 engravings ; the elder gentlemen were 
 deep in politics and church architecture ;, 
 and Mr. Grant took a seat near Lady Sarah 
 and Miss Rose. 
 
 ' My little girl has to thank you for a 
 very pleasant afternoon last week. Miss 
 Selby,' said he. ' Poor little woman, she 
 has few pleasures now ;' and he sighed.
 
 TREGARTHEN. 247 
 
 * I am sure that my sisters and myself 
 were delighted to amuse her,' said Miss 
 Rose, slightly colouring. ' She is a very 
 sweet child.' 
 
 ' Is she not !' said the bereaved man. 
 ' She is so like my poor dear late wife,. 
 Lady Sarah. But she is in sad need of a 
 lady's care. A motherless little girl is a 
 terrible charge upon a father.' 
 
 Miss Rose looked compassionate. 
 
 'But why,' thought Lady Sarah, 'need 
 she colour up so ?' 
 
 In another instant a new idea flashed 
 upon her mind. 
 
 ' Good heavens !' said she to herself. 
 ' Good heavens ! Are there ever such 
 fools as old fools !' After another short 
 space for reflection, she added, mentally, 
 ' But it would not be, in any way, un- 
 suitable either, and a ver}^ good thing for 
 dear Rose. The man is no great fool 
 after all. Rose would make a very good
 
 248 TREGARTHEN. 
 
 «tep-mother to tlie child. She must be 
 younger than he is, and is still a very 
 pretty woman.' 
 
 Every woman is a match-maker at heart. 
 Lady Sarah was quite pleased with the 
 notion before the evening was over, and 
 determined to do all in her power to 
 further it. She became almost excited 
 ^bout it.
 
 249 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 TROUBLE A3I0NG THE SELBYS. 
 
 As the last carriage drove away, Charles 
 heaved a sigh of relief. 
 
 ' Mother dear, I do hope yoii will never 
 inflict so many hours of those dreary girls 
 upon us again.' 
 
 ' My dear, they appear to be very well 
 brought up, and perfectly lady-like.' 
 
 ' Oh, yes, perfectly la.dj-Uke. Give me 
 the real thing, not its faint shadow, for 
 pity's sake. Give me the real lady in 
 grain, in spirit, in divine essence, who 
 never needs to be brought up to look like 
 one.'
 
 250 TREGARTHEN. 
 
 ' Foolish boy ! These are some of your 
 paradoxes. How did our poor young 
 friends manage to offend you ? How did 
 you like them, Mr. Jackson ? 
 
 ' They appear to me to be most amiable 
 young ladies, Lady Sarah ; and the elder 
 of them to be imbued with a very earnest 
 desire to assist in ameliorating the condi- 
 tion of the working classes.' 
 
 Charles made a queer grimace. 
 
 ' They have it in their power to begin, 
 then. It is a pity we did not take them 
 to Polzeath instead of Bedruthan. Miss 
 Dorothea Selby informed me that your 
 brother and all the family. Miss Rose, 
 were hard-working people.' 
 
 ' I am afraid that my nieces have caught 
 the habit of talkino; much nonsense from 
 their father,' replied Miss Rose, a little 
 annoyed. ' My brother is rather fond of 
 making extraordinary statements; at times,, 
 not in strict accordance with truth.'
 
 TREGARTHEN. 251 
 
 Auc^usta perceived the annoyance, and 
 hastened to smooth it away. 
 
 ' My cousin is only in joke, my dear 
 Miss Selby. AVe were both delighted with 
 those charming girls, and the extremely 
 pleasant visit we had there. I wish,. 
 Aunt Sarah, that you had been with us, I 
 have seldom enjoyed a visit more. Did 
 you not feel the same, Charlie?' 
 
 ' I did. Your nieces. Miss Rose, did 
 not o^et behind the door when charmino^ 
 manners were being served out.' 
 
 ' I am glad you liked them, poor girls. 
 Lady Sarah, I am rather tired, I will wish 
 you good-night.' 
 
 She retired, but the others did not feel 
 inclined to move quite so soon from the 
 comfortable chairs in which they were 
 resting around a cheerful wood-fire which 
 had been lighted in the evening. Rain 
 was falling, and it had become rather 
 chilly.
 
 252 TREGARTHEN. 
 
 Sir Theophilus had gone to his own 
 room, and Mr. Jackson beat a retreat as 
 soon as he decently could. The cousins 
 and Lady Sarah sat cosily together, 
 inclined for chat. 
 
 ' Really, aunt,' said Augusta, ' I do 
 wish you had been with us yesterday. 
 You would not be surprised that we felt 
 the difference between those common-place 
 girls and the Miss Selbys.' 
 
 'The Miss Selbys are all there, I can 
 tell you,' said Charles. ' But Bessie Car- 
 thuan seems to have developed some 
 affinity with Jackson. It would be fun to 
 shut him up with that original Miss Doro- 
 thea, would it not, Augusta ? She would 
 give it hot to him and his social science.' 
 
 ' My dear Charles, you talk more slang 
 than is quite to my taste,' remonstrated 
 Lady Sarah. ' Where do you pick it all 
 up?' 
 
 ' It is a safety-valve for your son, my
 
 TREGARTHEX. 253 
 
 beloved mother, after Ms tutor's extreme 
 propriety of diction. It strikes a ^vhole- 
 some balance. But to return to our young 
 lady friends.' 
 
 ' It is hardly fair to compare Mr. Frank 
 Selby's daughters with Bessie and Alice 
 Carthuan. They have been so differently 
 brought up. Artists, and persons of that 
 class, are generally agreeable conversa- 
 tionalists. It is part of their trade.' 
 
 ' It ought to be part of every girl's trade 
 to make herself pleasant,' said Charles. 
 
 ' I really would like you to see those 
 Miss Selbys, aunt,' said Augusta. ' I think 
 you would like them as much as we do. I 
 hope to see more of them — a great deal 
 more.' 
 
 ' Well, my dear, I will invite them 
 over to spend a day. It Avill only be a 
 proper attention to dear Rose Selby, who 
 seems to have done her best to entertain 
 you yesterday.'
 
 254 TREGARTHEN. 
 
 ' And succeeded/ murmured Charles. 
 
 A note was sent from Polzeath to Miss 
 Selby next morning, and forwarded to 
 Miss Rose immediately, with a few lines 
 from her sister. 
 
 Frank gave a piteous account of the 
 children. 
 
 ' They are both in the utmost danger,' 
 he wrote. ' The doctor thinks that Amy 
 will pull through, but gives us little hope 
 of my poor little boy. I am afraid that 
 my wife will be much thrown back by the 
 necessary attendance upon him, though 
 old nurse and May help considerably. 
 Can you help to reduce the crowd of us, 
 like a kind, good sister? Otherwise, I 
 must go back to town with all who can 
 leave ; but our house is in the hands of 
 workmen during our absence, and I can- 
 not bear to leave poor Mabel at present. 
 Our trouble is very great.' 
 
 ' Of course,' wrote Miss Selby, 'of course
 
 TREGARTHEN. 255 
 
 we will take away all the children that our 
 cottage will accommodate. If you, my 
 dear Rose, are staying on at the Hall, we 
 could have the two middle girls as well as 
 the twin boys. Please let me know at 
 once, and ask dear Lady Sarah whether 
 she could kindly lend me the waggonette 
 to fetch them this morning? I could go 
 for them myself if she would be so good.' 
 
 Miss Rose carried the letters to Lady 
 Sarah, with whom she found Augusta and 
 Charles. 
 
 ' Certainly, Elizabeth shall have the 
 waggonette,' said she. 
 
 ' I will drive it myself,' exclaimed 
 Charles. 
 
 ' Oh, aunt,' cried Miss Courtney, ' may 
 I have Dorothea to stay here ? I would 
 so like it I' 
 
 ' If her mother will spare her, I can 
 have no objection,' said Lady Sarah. ' I 
 will write a little note to invite her.'
 
 256 TREGAETHEN. 
 
 ' Thank you very much,' said Miss Rose, 
 earnestly. 
 
 Lady Sarah, thoroughly hospitable and 
 eager to please her niece, was glad of the 
 chance to procure for her a companion 
 whom she liked. The invitation was sent, 
 and Charles drove off to fetch the party ; 
 but Lady Sarah was considerably startled, 
 upon her son's return, to find him accom- 
 panied, not only by a shy girl of sixteen, 
 but by a remarkably handsome young 
 man. 
 
 ' Mr. Horace Selby, mother,' said Charles, 
 introducing him. ' I have persuaded him 
 at least to spend the day here. He will 
 not agree to remain, though I tell him 
 that it would be the greatest kindness to 
 me if he will do so, because he is reading 
 for the same exam, as Jackson is, and we 
 might work all together.' 
 
 ' If Mr. Horace Selby will do my son 
 the favour,' said Lady Sarah, much pre-
 
 TREGARTHEX. 257 
 
 possessed by the young man's looks, ' it 
 would make us very happy. While his 
 little brother and sister are so ill, I am 
 sure that his parents can spare him. This 
 naughty boy of mine, Mr. Selby, is not 
 reading as hard as we could wish. If you 
 could induce him to do so, it would really 
 be a kindness.' 
 
 She put out her hand to Horace, with 
 all the kindly grace of which she was 
 complete mistress, and he could only bow 
 and accept the invitation. 
 
 ' It is ever so good of you, mother,' said 
 Charles to her, returning to kiss her as 
 soon as he had shown Horace to his room. 
 * I thought you would not mind my bring- 
 ing him here, though he was very scru- 
 pulous about coming without an invitation 
 from you. But you can have no idea of 
 the trouble down in that house, or of the 
 imminent danger those children are in. 
 Such sweet little things too. It would be 
 
 VOL. I. s
 
 258 TREGARTHEN. 
 
 perfect cruelty to make any of the family 
 return to town till they know whether 
 they are to live or die.' 
 
 ' My dear boy, ask whom you choose to 
 the house at any time. I am only too 
 glad to please you. That is a very pleas- 
 ing young man in appearance, but don't 
 let him make you more idle. I will put 
 it all right with Mr. Jackson, if he will 
 undertake another pupil ; but don't let 
 him waste the advantage which Jackson's 
 tutorship may be to him.' 
 
 • No, I won't indeed, mother,' said 
 Charles, earnestly. ' I will work like a 
 Trojan, and make him do so too.' 
 
 It was not often that Charles was so 
 openly affectionate to his mother, and she 
 was touched by it. 
 
 ' Perhaps,' thought she, ' here is the 
 very inducement to study for which I 
 have been longing. How fortunate should 
 it prove to be so !'
 
 TREGARTHEX. 259 
 
 So Lady Sarah was gracious beyond her 
 wont ; she was very kind to Dorothea, she 
 made herself charming to Horace, she fur- 
 thered the intimacy all the more as she per- 
 -ceived also the thing she wanted in the girl, 
 who quite took Augusta off her hands. 
 
 Dorothea possessed more of her father's 
 character and artistic nature than any of 
 the elder ones in his family ; but, in her, 
 his geniality and easiness of disposition 
 were replaced by a strong vein of practical 
 common-sense, which enabled her to esti- 
 mate clearly where her best chances lay, 
 and to take advantage of them to the fullest 
 extent. 
 
 She knew that she might paint flowers 
 and fruit in water-colours well^ and this 
 she meant to do. She enjoyed the beau- 
 ties of the picture-gallery extremely, but 
 was not for one moment led away by any 
 desire to copy or emulate what was be- 
 yond her powers, or useless to her, how- 
 
 s2
 
 260 TREGARTHEN. 
 
 ever beautiful it might be. She studied 
 effects of light and shade, combinations of 
 colour, manipulation of touch. She worked 
 at drawing, freehand and otherwise ; she 
 hunted out books upon art in the librar}^ 
 and her remarks opened a new world to 
 Augusta. For the first time she began to 
 look upon art as a science, not a taste — to 
 regard its mysteries as a study to be mas- 
 tered and understood, instead of being 
 simply enjoyed in a dilettante fashion. 
 The two girls became inseparable. 
 
 Dorothea particularly valued the re- 
 sources of the hot-houses and gardens, 
 which enabled her to have all the flowers 
 and fruit which she desired as models, 
 wlien she wished and as she wished. She 
 had been so often thrown back in her work 
 by the difficulty of affording the expense 
 of peaches and grapes with the bloom on, 
 roses cut in the dew, flowers of exactly 
 the right hue just when she needed them.
 
 TREGARTHEN. 261 
 
 and she flung herself eagerly into work 
 now while these resources were unbounded 
 around her. 
 
 Seeing her industry, and appreciating 
 her enthusiasm, Lady Sarah proposed that 
 she should utilize her drawings for the 
 needs of the forthcoming bazaar in the 
 neighbourhood, to which she would be 
 expected to contribute handsomely. If 
 Dorothea chose, she would pay her for all 
 that she would do for this purpose, at a 
 rate which her father should estimate, 
 and, meanwhile, she should give Miss 
 Courtney the advantage of her superior 
 knowledge and training by working with 
 her. 
 
 Who so happy as Dorothea now ? 
 
 Miss Louisa Courtney became engaged ; 
 the London season ended. Lady Courtney 
 wished to take her daughter to Scotland, 
 where the family of the^a?2c</ weregrouse- 
 .shooting. Augusta w^as well provided for,
 
 262 TREGARTHEN. 
 
 and her health improving ; she might 
 remain where she was for the present. 
 
 And Charles ? Horace Selby, though 
 not equal to his sister in energy, was by 
 no means a fool. He had no intention of 
 losing his chance of success in his ex- 
 amination by any idleness now. Mr. 
 Jackson was well able to give him help 
 which he needed, and was willing to do so. 
 The three young men read pretty steadily 
 for several hours a day ; but, the work 
 being completed, what so natural as that 
 Selby should want to know how Steenie 
 was going on, — what his father was doing, 
 — how his mother was bearing the pro- 
 longed nursing ? 
 
 What refreshment, after close application, 
 equalled a good gallop upon a fine horse. 
 Charles mounted him well ; and, day after 
 day, the two set off for a ride ; — and, day 
 after day, that ride brought them, sooner or 
 later, into the neighbourhood of Polzeath.
 
 TREGARTHEN. 26^ 
 
 Horace had much to say and to do there^ 
 but why Charles was always so ready to 
 go in that direction was another matter. 
 
 Little Amanda, as has been said, threw 
 off her illness after a few days ; but Steenie 
 battled on and on with the fell disease, 
 now a little better, now much worse ; al- 
 ways suffering extremely, in great danger 
 for many weeks, and a terrible anxiet}^ to 
 his friends.
 
 264 
 
 CHAPTER XYII. 
 
 THE OLD, OLD STORY. 
 
 From the moment when Charles Grenfell 
 had looked upon May Selby, as she stood 
 poised upon the rock in the cavern, sing- 
 ing, and gazing out upon the advancing 
 waves with those sweet eyes thought-laden, 
 — from that moment he had known that 
 his affinity was there ; that the girl 
 standing before him was to be the dearest 
 in the world to him for the rest of his life. 
 He did not analyze his feelings, or perplex 
 himself with reasoning as to the how or 
 the why. He knew it ; and from that time
 
 TREGARTHEN. 265 
 
 his chief desire was to be near her ; to look 
 upon her face ; to hear her voice ; to touch 
 her hand. 
 
 Steenie's illness was, at first, a great 
 obstacle to this end ; but, as the child be- 
 gan to recover, his state was of material 
 assistance to him. While he lay between life 
 and death, Mabel was too busy to see any- 
 one. She was her mother's help, her 
 father's comfort ; she had to prepare and 
 pack the wardrobes of brothers and sisters 
 for their absence ; she had to assist with 
 invalid cookery, and take her mother's 
 place when she lay down to rest. There 
 was no time in which to see visitors. 
 
 But he kept himself in her thoughts 
 even then. It was he who brought the 
 hot-house fruit which the little invalid 
 liked so much, fresh every day or two ; to 
 him was owing the jelly and ice so grateful 
 to the child's fevered mouth ; to him were 
 her aunts, brothers and sisters, indebted
 
 266 TKEGARTHEN. 
 
 for their frequent knowledge as to how 
 matters were progressing ; he was the 
 bearer of every parcel and note from 
 Withiel. Mabel would have been lonely 
 indeed without Horace and Dorothea, but 
 for the frequent communications which he 
 brought about. 
 
 At length the fever left the little boy,, 
 and a day arrived when Mrs. Selby, ex- 
 hausted, lay down in the afternoon for a 
 long sleep ; Frank ventured to resume 
 palette and easel among the rocks ; nurse 
 and the other servant were engaged in their 
 ' housewife skep ' in the kitchen, mounting 
 guard also over Amanda and the baby; 
 and Mabel, with the skeleton form of her 
 little brother w^armly wrapped in blankets, 
 sat in the sun outside the house, rocking 
 him in her arms, and singing to him softly,. 
 'And the dove that sat upon the mast did 
 mourn, and mourn, and mourn.' 
 
 A shadow fell across her, she lifted her
 
 TREGARTHEX. 267 
 
 eyes, and saw young Grenfell standing 
 before her, looking down on her with a 
 smile. She had no consciousness about 
 her; the idea of love had never yet oc- 
 curred to her ; her whole heart was full of 
 her father, her mother, her sisters, her 
 brothers. She only regarded him as the 
 kind friend who had been so good to them 
 through their trouble ; and the innocent 
 light of welcome flashed into her face as 
 she made a movement to rise, but could 
 not do so, the rocking-chair being deep, 
 and her burden cumbersome. 
 
 ' Don't rise. Miss Selby, pray don't,' 
 said he. ' How does the young hero go- 
 on T 
 
 'Better, are you not, dear?' replied 
 Mabel, bending down to look at the little 
 white face, in which the big blue eyes now 
 seemed unnaturally large. 
 
 Steenie lifted himself up into a sitting 
 posture, and put out a bony hand.
 
 268 TREGARTHEN. 
 
 ' You is the gentleman what came into 
 the mine to fetch Mannie and me out, 
 aren't you ?' said he. 
 
 ' Yes, my man/ said Charles. ' What 
 made you go there ?' 
 
 ' We thought perhaps Aladdin had got 
 his cave up there, and we could get 
 some jewels and some money for papa.' 
 
 ' Don't you know that you and your 
 little sister are your papa's best jewels?' 
 asked Charles. 
 
 'Is we?' said Steenie, looking at his 
 sister. 
 
 ' To be sure you are,' said she. ' You 
 are never going there any more, are 
 you?' 
 
 ' No, never no more,' sighed Steenie, 
 laying himself back again, tired already. 
 ' Papa did say that if we did he would 
 paint a picture of us as Kobolds, and then 
 nobody would ever love us.' 
 
 ' But, Steenie, you have not thanked
 
 TREGARTHEN. 269 
 
 this kind gentleman for finding you and 
 bringing you out.' 
 
 ' Thank you, gentleman,' said the weary 
 voice. ' Have you got anything nice for 
 me to-day ?' 
 
 ' Steenie !' cried his scandalized sister. 
 
 ' You did tell me that he brought me 
 all those nice things your own self,' said 
 Steenie, in self- vindication, ' and if he had 
 got any more, I could say thank you all 
 at once.' 
 
 ' So you can, my son,' said the amused 
 young man, silencing the reproach which 
 he saw on the sister's tongue. ' And I 
 have got a beautiful new picture-book for 
 you to-day. Shall you like that ?' 
 
 ' Yes, I shall, better nor grapes. I'm 
 tired of grapes. Thank you, sir.' 
 
 And hugging his new book, which he 
 was too tired to look at then, Steenie 
 dropped into a doze. 
 
 ' I don't think that I know how to thank
 
 270 TREGARTHEN. 
 
 you, mucli better than Steenie, for all you 
 have done for us, Mr. Grenfell; but we do 
 feel it most kind of you, and we will never 
 forget it,' said Mabel, earnestly. 
 
 ' Don't, don't now,' said Charles. ' It 
 has been a pleasure which you cannot 
 estimate.' 
 
 ' We can never repay you,' continued 
 Mabel, ' but at least I need not let you go 
 away fasting this time, as I did on that 
 dreadful morning. If you will come in, 
 I will lay Steenie down on the sofa, and 
 we will have a cup of tea. Papa is not 
 far off, and would like to see you, if you 
 could wait till he comes in.' 
 
 Charles had no objection at all, and they 
 went into the shabby parlour, — so painfully 
 quiet and orderly now, — where nurse soon 
 brought tea, and Mrs. Selby came down to 
 greet her visitor.. Horace went to find his 
 father, w^ho returned with him, and Mabel 
 made tea for all.
 
 TREGARTHEN. 271 
 
 Frank Selby was himself ao-ain now, full 
 of quaint jokes and hearty laughter. 
 
 ' This Duchess of ours is treating you 
 better to-day than she does sometimes, 
 Mr. Grenfell,' said he. 'She is, as you 
 had sad ex]3erience, no tea-totaller ; she 
 let you go totally without tea on a former 
 occasion.' 
 
 ' Mr. Grenfell believes in sincerity, papa. 
 Xo empty compliments for him. He will 
 always know for the future that when I 
 say " Stay to tea," I mean a genuine 
 offer.' 
 
 ' In short, he likes empty cups better 
 than empty compliments,' said her father. 
 
 ' I like full cups when I can get them, 
 sir,' said Charles. 4 hope that Miss Selby 
 will often say " Stay to tea." ' 
 
 ' And see you in your cups ?' 
 
 ' Papa ! ^Ir. Grenfell will not under- 
 stand all your rude ways. You are very 
 naughty this evening.'
 
 272 TREGARTHEN. 
 
 But Frank was never naughty except 
 when he liked his company. When he 
 behaved with formal politeness, it was a 
 sure sign that he was ill at ease from 
 some cause. He was also apt to be 
 sa2:acious in his likins^s and dislikinc^s, 
 and Mabel well understood that he had 
 taken a fancy to their ncAv friend, which 
 caused her to lend herself the more 
 readily to her inclination in his favour. 
 
 Mabel had a very grateful temper, and 
 loved her own people dearly. To be kind 
 to any of them was the sure way to her 
 heart, and her affections were deep and 
 true, though not shown much upon the 
 surface. So quiet was she in her ways 
 that, when all the others were at home, 
 she was apt to be unheard among the more 
 brilliant and noisy ones. 
 
 Dorothea was often thought by stran- 
 gers to be the eldest, so much more ready 
 was she to come forward and talk ; but,
 
 TREGARTHEX. 273 
 
 on such a rare occasion as this, Mabel 
 was seen to advantage, for there were 
 none to cast her into the shade. She 
 Avanted to make things pleasant to the 
 young man who had done so much for 
 Steenie, and whose people were making 
 Dora and Horace enjoy themselves so 
 greatly, so she exerted herself to talk of 
 pictures and music and literature ; bring- 
 ing out all the things, new and old, with 
 which her treasury of a mind was richly 
 stored, in a way which Charles had never 
 known anyone talk before. Her life in 
 London, among artists and people of note, 
 gave her much to say regarding cele- 
 brated men and women ; she set up her 
 father to relate anecdotes of them, and 
 to give the secret history of many a pic- 
 ture and publication. 
 
 All this was a rare treat to young 
 Grenfell, and that pleasant, quiet tea- 
 drinking was prolonged till the sun set, 
 
 VOL. I. T
 
 274 TREGAKTHEN. 
 
 and gathering shadows warned the young 
 men that it had long been time to go. 
 
 After that evening, a visit from Charles 
 was a frequent event. He brought books 
 and toys to Steenie and ' his little sweet- 
 heart Amanda ;' he came with a message 
 from Withiel ; he came for a bathe ; there 
 was never an excuse wanted, and his 
 presence became as familiar as that of 
 Horace or one of the twins. More fa- 
 miliar than that of Horace after a while, 
 for Horace was seized with a sketching 
 mania, and was always in attendance 
 upon the young ladies. Charles came 
 alone. 
 
 So August sped away : it was time for 
 the Selbys to return to toAvn that they 
 might be ready for the young ones to 
 go back to school, and Horace to re-com- 
 mence his studies in earnest. 
 
 Mrs. Selby had benefitted greatly from 
 her sojourn by the sea, in spite of all
 
 TREGARTHEX. 275 
 
 the anxiety which she had experienced 
 there. Baby had taken quite a start, all 
 the rest had thrown off their ailments ; 
 but Steenie, having recovered up to a 
 •certain point, improved no more, and his 
 health was a very serious consideration. 
 
 Rheumatism seemed to have seized 
 upon the child as a prey ; he was racked - 
 with pain on every change of weather. 
 There were swellino; and enlaro^ements of 
 the joints ; inflammatory symptoms now, 
 danger of contractions then; weak action 
 of the heart always ; his appetite was un- 
 certain and capricious ; his strength did 
 not return. It was all but impossible 
 for him to have the proper remedies, 
 suitable food, and constant attention which 
 he needed at Polzeath ; the house would 
 be wholly unfit for him as soon as the 
 summer weather broke up and the equi- 
 noctial gales began to blow; yet Mrs. 
 Selby dreaded the idea of taking him 
 
 T 2
 
 276 TREGARTHEN. 
 
 back to town — to close air, confinement 
 to the house, London milk, and the noise 
 of the streets. Better medical advice he 
 could certainly enjoy there, warmer rooms, 
 medicated baths ; but his mother dreaded 
 the winter before her most unspeakably. 
 
 She could not put such a charge upon 
 her sisters-in-law, who were unused to 
 little children, and who already had one 
 constant invalid in the house. Besides, 
 they had already had four of the young 
 people there for two months, and their 
 resources had been heavily enough taxed. 
 
 By the second week of September it 
 was necessary for the family to be in 
 London again, and the perplexity as to 
 what was best to do for Steenie was 
 great. 
 
 Did Charles divine this of his own 
 accord ? Was the difficulty to be read in 
 Mabel's anxious eyes ? Or did he piece 
 together a stray word or two dropped in
 
 TREGARTHEN. 277 
 
 his presence ? There was no knowing ; 
 but a most unprecedented event occurred. 
 
 Charles took his mother out for a drive 
 in an open phaeton, and persuaded her to 
 go so far as Polzeath, and to call upon Mrs. 
 Selby. 
 
 Such a thing had not happened for 
 years as for Lady Sarah to drive to such 
 a distance, and she rarely paid calls. She 
 fancied herself too delicate. But she had 
 been roused by the company of the young 
 people. It had been a cheerful summer 
 to her, and had done her good ; while the 
 pleasure of driving out with her son was 
 a new one hitherto scarcely tasted. 
 
 In a tete-a-tete like this, Charles, being 
 bent upon pleasing his mother and bring- 
 ing her into a happy state of mind, exerted 
 himself to talk his best, and she seemed 
 to know more of him in that one drive 
 than she had learnt in years of previous 
 more formal intercourse when they were
 
 278 TREGARTHEN. 
 
 always in the presence of servants, visitors ^ 
 even Sir Theophilus. Never before had 
 he been confidential with her, or told her 
 anything of the thoughts and aspirations 
 of his inner self. 
 
 Now, beginning with books which he 
 had been reading, he spoke of his yearning 
 to be something great. 
 
 • Do you know, mother,' he said, ' there 
 are some advantages in being a fellow like 
 Horace Selby. He has his course in life 
 so plainly marked out before him, he has 
 only to walk along it, he has no choice to 
 bewilder him. Sometimes I wish that I 
 too had to he something.' 
 
 ' You have, my dear,' said she. ' You 
 have to be a landholder, and study the 
 good of your tenants. You might go 
 into Parliament, and have your say in the 
 great questions of the day. There is 
 plenty for you to be.' 
 
 ' Yes, but the more I think about it, the
 
 TREGARTHEN. 27^ 
 
 more sorry I would be for Parliament if I 
 were to go into it.' 
 
 ' I do not understand you, ray dear.' 
 ' Why, mother, I should go into it with 
 the best intentions in life, and want to do 
 all sorts of things, but it would be some- 
 thing like taking out a young dog in a 
 shooting-party, very apt to spoil the sport. 
 And it is hard to tell what and who is 
 right. Everyone seems to be right in 
 part, but one has to join a party, and 
 stick to it afterwards whether one agrees 
 wholly with its leaders or not. No good 
 is ever done by desultory single-handed 
 measures ; but when men work in con- 
 cert, it seems as if they had to lop off a 
 principle here and a prejudice there, till 
 they lose all their individuality, and just 
 become like any other in the crowd. And 
 then there are so many sides to every 
 question ; and it is so hard to pursue a 
 course that seems right without jogging
 
 280 TKEGARTHEN. 
 
 against all sorts of things where mischief 
 may follow.' 
 
 ' Perhaps study, and growing older, 
 may enable you to see your course 
 plainer.' 
 
 '' Perhaps. It was something which 
 passed at the Selbys' the other day which 
 made me think. You know that story 
 which so many people think so fine, 
 where the girl leaves a luxurious home 
 and goes to live among the East-End poor 
 to do them good. They were reading it at 
 Polzeath, I took it down to them. Well, 
 Mrs. Selby laughed, and said that it was a 
 man's idea of what was possible, and that 
 a girl brought up like that could not have 
 done things for herself in that way, and 
 set wholesome example to persons in such 
 a different rank of life all at once. Mr. 
 Selby joked about Dame Partington ; but 
 somehow his jokes make one think after- 
 wards, even if one laughs at the time.
 
 TREGARTHEN. 281 
 
 Then Miss Selby said that it sounded very 
 fine, on the surface, to lead a life of self 
 sacrifice like that, but she feared that for 
 a person to take his or her life in their 
 own hands, and follow a course of their 
 own choosing and planning, never answer- 
 ed. It can be made all right in a book, 
 she said, but in real life it is wisest to wait 
 for guidance. I asked whether that were 
 not rather like offering a premium to self- 
 indulgence, and letting abuses drift on, 
 and she said that it might be. But her 
 tone was doubtful, and I could not get 
 her to explain herself ; she said that she 
 had no guidance towards the role of female 
 preacher. Then something happened to 
 stop the conversation, and I have been 
 wondering ever since where my guidance 
 will come from, and in what direction it 
 may lead me.' 
 
 ' To college first, my dear,' said his 
 mother. ' Do your utmost at Oxford, and
 
 282 TEEGAKTHEN. 
 
 fit yourself for it against the time when it 
 will come. Those Selbys really are very 
 interesting people. I wish that the mother 
 were a better manager and a more sensible 
 woman.' 
 
 'Mrs. Selby! More sensible ! Abetter 
 manager! Why, mother, those are the 
 very things she is. There is no fuss there, 
 but you should only just see how well she 
 manages all those children, and how they 
 all look to her, Mr. Selby and all !' 
 
 ' I may be mistaken, I do not know her, 
 but I thought ' 
 
 ' Mother, don't think. Go with me and 
 see her. She is so nice.' 
 
 Lady Sarah thought that it might be as 
 well. These people were evidently in- 
 fluencing her son, and she would do wise- 
 ly to judge whether for good or ill. So 
 the horses' heads were turned towards the 
 sea, and they drove into that sweet and 
 peaceful bay.
 
 TREGARTHEN. 28^ 
 
 All the family, in its reduced numbers^ 
 were gathered in the little enclosure out- 
 side the house. Steenie was trying to 
 walk upon crutches for the first time. 
 Alas ! disguise it as his friends would, 
 temporize and hope as much as they 
 might, to this had the little fellow come. 
 The doctor talked of time, of strength re- 
 turning as he grew better ; advised assist- 
 ance for the present ; but it all came to 
 the same end. The manly, active little 
 figure was never to run about as erst was 
 its wont ; the busy feet were never to 
 come bustling and pattering in, as they 
 used to do, any more. 
 
 But, for the present, the crutches were 
 looked upon as an advance towards re- 
 turning health, and the child was proud 
 of them as of a new toy. He was making 
 his slow, uncertain progress upon them 
 across the little square ; his father on one 
 side of him, his sister on the other, with
 
 284 TREGARTHEN. 
 
 outspread arms to save him should he 
 make a false step ; his mother bending in 
 front, luring him on. 
 
 Lady Sarah and Charles, advancing up 
 the path to the house behind them, saw 
 the tableau thus for one minute ; then 
 Amanda, scampering to warn her mother 
 of the visitors' approach, stumbled in her 
 haste, knocked against the left-hand crutch 
 and down went her little brother's help- 
 less form. They ran forward, instinctive- 
 ly, but his father had him in his arms at 
 once, and was soothing the nervous terror 
 which caused a wail. 
 
 Lady Sarah's womanly heart went out 
 to the little, drawn, white face that told of 
 so much suffering, and all formality was 
 forgotten in listening to Mrs. Selby's ac- 
 count of the illness and its cause. 
 
 ' And now, my dear madam,' said her 
 ladyship, ' what do you intend to do with 
 him now ? I hear that you are returning
 
 TREGARTHEN. 285 
 
 to town shortly, but the dear little fellow 
 does not look at all fit for the journey, or 
 for the confinement to London air. You 
 live in St. John's "Wood, do you not? You 
 are on the clay there ; that is not good for 
 rheumatic affections.' 
 
 ' I know,' replied ^Irs. Selby. ' In truth, 
 we are much perplexed as to our right 
 course. He cannot stay here much longer, 
 and I do not know what to do.' 
 
 ' Let him come to Tregarthen,' said Lady 
 Sarah, impulsively. ^ Let him come, at 
 least, till you are quite settled at home 
 again, and can make every arrangement 
 for his comfort. He will be so far on his 
 way to the railway-station, the journey 
 will be thus eased for him when he does 
 go, and we will make him as happy as we 
 can. Change of air may give him an im- 
 23ulse towards a more rapid recovery, and 
 he shall have the best of milk and every- 
 thing which the doctor orders.'
 
 286 TREGARTHEN. 
 
 'You are very good, Lady Sarah,' said 
 Mrs. Selby. ' You have been so kind 
 already.' 
 
 ' Do not talk of that. Your daughter 
 and son have been so useful that the 
 obligation is all on our side, I can assure 
 you.' 
 
 It was settled that Steenie should go to 
 Tregarthen the day before the removal of 
 the rest of the family. Mabel should go 
 with him, to take care of him ; the car- 
 riage should be sent for them. 
 
 Dorothea and Horace should rejoin the 
 family at the station, and proceed to Lon- 
 don with them. 
 
 ' We have all grown so fond of that nice 
 Miss Dorothea, my dear Mrs. Selby,' said 
 Lady Sarah, ' I do not know what my 
 niece would have done without her all this 
 time ' 
 
 Mrs. Selby made suitable acknowledg- 
 ments, with a little secret perplexity in
 
 TREGARTHEX. 287 
 
 her heart as to Mabel's toilette, ^\'hich so 
 sadly needed refreshment. She looked at 
 her now, as she sat in the window, with 
 Steenie on her lap, and young Grenfell 
 leaning against the wall looking down on 
 her, talking earnestly. The blue serge 
 dress, that had been her chief stand-by 
 during the whole time spent at Polzeath, 
 had seemed good enough hitherto ; but 
 now, regarding it with the eyes of Lady 
 Sarah, which she borrowed for the nonce, 
 how worn and shabby it seemed. So, while 
 her ladyship talked, in sweet condescen- 
 sion, the mother was privately wandering 
 in drapers' shops, and planning how to set 
 her daughter up in suitable garments at 
 the most reasonable cost. 
 
 Another idea 'startled her also at this 
 moment. With Mabel and her aiFairs full 
 in her mind as they had not been for many 
 a day, she suddenly perceived a something 
 of empressement^ a look in Charles Gren-
 
 288 TREGARTHEN. 
 
 fell's face, a '' je ne sais quoi^ whicli caused 
 the intuition to flash upon her that he was 
 in love with the girl. 
 
 With the Duchess? With her little 
 girl ? With Mabel, who had been her own 
 baby such a short time ago, who was still 
 almost a schoolgirl ? 
 
 Even so. At her daughter's age she 
 herself had been earning her own living for 
 a twelvemonth, her landscape painter had 
 come into her orbit, her idyllic life had 
 commenced, she had even been just 
 married. 
 
 Yes, she was no older than May when 
 she had thought herself fit to take the 
 duties of a wife upon her, and now it was 
 the child's turn. She was greatly startled, 
 but how charming a match it would be ! 
 Dear May, how sweetly she would grace 
 the position, what a charming couple they 
 look now, side by side. Both she and 
 Frank liked this young man so much ; and
 
 TREGAETHEN. 289 
 
 what a fine thing it would be for the 
 others ! 
 
 But was it possible ? Unworldly as 
 Mrs. Selby was, — and, for all her ten 
 children and her experience in life, she 
 was still as innocent and single-hearted as 
 one of her own babies — still she could not 
 but think of the discrepancy in the eyes of 
 the world between the social positions of 
 the two young people. But, if this ex- 
 cellent match were offered to dear Mabel, 
 if the Youno^ man loved her, and she loved 
 him, he could well afford to please his own 
 fancy, and what was, what could be, too 
 good for that dear girl ? 
 
 The young man showed his sense, that 
 she must acknowledge. Mabel would be 
 a fortune to any man ; she would bring, 
 with herself, qualities which would coun- 
 terbalance all his money-bags. 
 
 Mrs. Selby was very ignorant of fine 
 people's ways. Though her husband was 
 
 VOL. I. XI
 
 290 TREGARTHEN. 
 
 SO rising an artist, and standing well in 
 the race for wealth and consequence, it had 
 been a very uphill struggle hitherto for 
 him, with little private fortune, no helpful 
 friends at his back, and heavily handi- 
 capped with so large a family to maintain 
 and educate. 
 
 He declined all visiting, and she, with a 
 young baby always to be considered, had 
 gone into almost no society beyond an oc- 
 casional visit to people of her own simple 
 sort. She had but seldom entered a fine 
 London home, nor had she seen Tregarthen. 
 She knew that this would be a very great 
 match for Mabel, but was wholly unable 
 to estimate how great. 
 
 She thought herself remarkably worldly- 
 wise in determining to say nothing to any- 
 one of her surmise. All should take its 
 course undeterred by watchfulness or com- 
 ment from outside ; but May's chances 
 should not be lost for want of a pretty out-
 
 TREGARTHEX. 291 
 
 iit to make her look as well as anyone 
 there. She would write up to London at 
 once for things. But what would be 
 needed? Did girls wear tea-gowns, or 
 only matrons ? She had seen such pretty 
 ones in shop windows, she had a vision of 
 one in which Mabel would look so well. 
 But, if it were an unnecessary expense, it 
 might be better to give her a second dress 
 for dinner instead. She could hardly get 
 on for a month with only one ; and there 
 was so much else which the poor dear girl 
 would need. 
 
 So the mother's thoughts wandered over 
 many perplexities, while her tongue an- 
 swered her visitor's civilities ; and she 
 was very glad when she took her leave. 
 
 Poor Mrs. Selby ! She had not heard 
 her sister-in-law describe Miss Augusta 
 Courtney's ^ve changes of dress a day, 
 nor how seldom she appeared in one, a 
 
 u2
 
 292 TREGARTHEN. 
 
 second time, in exactly the same form as 
 before. 
 
 Mabel's outfit was much needed, for 
 she had let Dorothea have her best white 
 dress to eke out her store, when she went 
 to Tregarthen. Mrs. Selby stretched a 
 point, and compassed both the tea-gown 
 and the two dinner-dresses ; one, certainly, 
 being ingeniously resurrected from one of 
 her own. 
 
 It was of black lace, and different 
 coloured ribbons might be worn with it. 
 The new one was white ; and, with a pretty 
 new silk also, she considered her daughter 
 as handsomely set up. 
 
 Steenie's wardrobe was also refreshed ; 
 and the two were sent off with a mixture 
 of anxious fear and loving pride conflict- 
 ing in their mother's heart.
 
 293 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 Mabel's first glimpse into society. 
 
 Nearly a fortnight passed before all was 
 ready for the Duchess and Steenie to go to 
 Tregarthen, and the little boy had improved 
 in strength the while, though very weak 
 still. 
 
 That he required nearly a thorough new 
 outfit was patent to his sister's eyes, for 
 he had grown much during his illness, 
 and the white and home-made linen suits 
 which formed his chief wardrobe previ- 
 ously, were too thin for him now. 
 
 Mabel stitched away busily at new flan- 
 nel undergarments for him, and new
 
 294 TREGARTHEN. 
 
 sleeping gear. She knitted warm long 
 stockings for the little man, and took 
 immense pride and pleasure in embroid- 
 ering a beautiful dressing-gown for his 
 comfort, the pockets in which interested 
 Master Steenie more than anything else. 
 
 Even the new black velvet suit and the 
 one of blue serge which came down from 
 London for him did not please him more, 
 though he had never had a complete suit 
 from a tailor before, and felt himself quite 
 as much of a man as Horace, when the 
 parcels arrived. 
 
 But though the Duchess plainly per- 
 ceived her little brother's needs, and took 
 pride and pleasure in slaving to supply 
 them, and in setting off his beauty, — none 
 the less remarkable for the great fragility 
 which now characterized it, — she yet was 
 a little surprised by the preparations made 
 by her mother for her own appearance. 
 
 ' I don't see that I want two dinner-
 
 TREGARTHEX. 295 
 
 dresses, mamma,' said she. ' It is only 
 staying in a country house with a kind 
 old lady and gentleman. There will not 
 be any company, you know. Mr. Grenfell 
 said there would be nobody else staying 
 there. Miss Courtney is going home, and 
 even Aunt Rose will have returned to the 
 cottage.' 
 
 ' You don't know what you may not 
 need in a month's visit, dear. You must 
 keep your new white frock for best, or it 
 will soil, and you will not be able to fit it 
 up again there.' 
 
 ' But there is the pink silk blouse that I 
 made before we came down here, mamma ! 
 I have only worn it once.' 
 
 ' Yes, dear, it would have been enough 
 at home, I dare say. We could get things 
 so easily and quickly in town, at any 
 sudden need, but you will find no shops 
 at Tregarthen, nor will you have anyone 
 to help in running up anything new for
 
 296 TREGARTHEN. 
 
 you, at short notice, should what you have 
 fail you.' 
 
 Mabel submitted. She was too true a 
 woman not to feel pleasure in having 
 pretty dresses to wear; and she felt set 
 up like a queen as she packed her 
 frocks. Four new dresses, besides her 
 former stock, constituted the most unpre- 
 cedented extravagance ! The possession 
 of a tea-gown perfectly oppressed her with 
 a sense of richness. 
 
 She kissed her mother gratefully, and 
 set out with Steenie in great state, and 
 some little excitement, for the first visit 
 she had ever made alone. 
 
 Steenie was delighted to drive away in 
 that luxurious barouche. After so long 
 an illness, so much confinement to the 
 house, how green and beautiful the lanes 
 looked ! His little tongue ran on in great 
 excitement. 
 
 ' Oh ! Duchess, look ! look ! There are 
 black-berries, like what Horace picked for
 
 TREGARTHEN. 297 
 
 me. They are really growing in the hedge ! 
 What are those yellow flowers ? I never 
 saw any like them before. Oh ! Duchess ! 
 there is the captain, it really is. Please 
 let me stop to speak. Captain, captain, 
 how do you do ? How is Mrs. Captain ? 
 How is your big pig?' 
 
 ' Your servant, miss,' said the honest 
 old fellow, raising his hat to the young 
 lady. ' Well, sir, I be main pleased to 
 see 'ee again. 'Ee've had a cruel bad 
 time of it, my pretty, that 'ee have. 'Ee 
 be looking wisht still, but 'ee'll be able 
 to ride the pig again soon, won't 'ee ?' 
 
 ' Oh ! yes, very soon, and then I'll come 
 and see you again. Give my love to Mrs. 
 Captain, good-bye.' 
 
 But Steenie's excitement soon faded 
 into fatigue. He was glad to be taken 
 upon his sister's lap ; where, wrapped up 
 comfortably, he put his tired head on her 
 shoulder, and fell asleep. 
 
 Mabel had time to look about her, and
 
 298 TREGARTHEN. 
 
 realize the difference between the manner 
 in which she was bowling over the road 
 now, and that in which she was taken 
 over the same ground on the occasion of 
 her only previous drive there. 
 
 She thought of her driving the donkey- 
 cart, with such enjoyment at her very 
 recent escajDe from London streets, into 
 the loveliness of those country sights and 
 sounds. She thought of her father, jump- 
 ing in and out to gather the wild roses ; 
 of his boyish delight in making her into 
 the presentment of Queen Summer ; of his> 
 gay spirits, and genial laughter over their 
 simple jokes. 
 
 Dear father ! She had noticed the sil- 
 ver threads so thickly in his beautiful 
 beard as she bid him farewell. They had 
 all appeared with the agony of his tender 
 love for the child ; with the anxiety, the 
 fear, the apprehension from day to day,. 
 He had never been quite the same since 
 the shock.
 
 TREGARTHEK. 299 
 
 They drove througli the little town of 
 Withiel, past her aunts' cottage, where the 
 girls were standing at the gate to wave 
 their hands to her. They did not stop 
 there, but turned in at a grand entrance, 
 about a quarter of a mile further on, be- 
 tween large stone gate-posts, surmounted 
 by heraldic monsters, and through beauti- 
 fully wrought iron gates, thrown wide for 
 their admittance to a magnificent avenue 
 of beech-trees. 
 
 What giant boles ! What delicious cool- 
 ness ! What lovely alternations of light 
 and shade! What exquisite glimpses of 
 glade and sweeping turf, and groups of 
 trees, and glancing water, and deer re- 
 posing among the verdure ! 
 
 The Duchess had not anticipated any- 
 thing like this grandeur, she had not 
 thought about Tregarthen at all, and great 
 consternation took possession of her simple 
 mind, so little used to splendour. 
 
 Had she realized, in the faintest degree,
 
 300 TREGARTHEN. 
 
 the shyness which was to make her its 
 prey upon driving through that lovely 
 j)ark, up to the grand old mansion of 
 which she was to be the inmate for some 
 weeks ; — if she had formed any idea before- 
 hand of the greatness which awaited her : 
 the number of serving men, the dignity of 
 the solemn butler, the extreme gentility 
 of the maids, the fact that she would not 
 unpack her own trunk, but would be 
 obliged to submit all her little contriv- 
 ances to the possible contempt of that 
 very fine young woman who was so over- 
 poweringly civil to her; — she would have 
 remained at Polzeath, or run away to 
 town, anything, to have escaped the 
 ordeal. 
 
 She had not felt at all afraid of Lady 
 Sarah, or even of Sir Theophilus, who was 
 a stranger to her — it was the house and 
 the servants who created her tremors when 
 she saw them. But she possessed a brave 
 spirit, and braced herself up to the effort
 
 TREGARTHEN. 301 
 
 of concealmg the palpitations which seized 
 upon her. 
 
 Poor Steenie was extremely fatigued by 
 the drive ; he was fit for nothing but bed, 
 and he could not help crying from weari- 
 ness as he was undressed. Mabel felt 
 re-assured by the tender manner of the 
 genteel maid as she handled the poor 
 child, and the cheerful voice in which she 
 suggested pleasant thoughts to him. 
 
 ' Poor little gentleman ! He has been 
 very ill, miss, has he not ? But see, sir, 
 how comfortable you will be when you 
 are in bed, and Mrs. Symons has such 
 nice cakes for your tea ; and here is a 
 little white doggie who wants to make 
 friends with you. He will sit up and beg 
 for some of those cakes, and you shall feed 
 him.' 
 
 Steenie cheered up at sight of the dog, 
 and tea refreshed him, but he was too 
 much spent for enjoyment, and fell asleep 
 while his sister was dressing for dinner.
 
 302 TREGARTHEN. 
 
 Just as she was ready, Dorothea came 
 running in. 
 
 ' I could not come before, Duchess ; in- 
 deed, I have only just heard that you had 
 arrived. How is Steenie? Poor little man, 
 how white he is ! T did not seem to think 
 before how ill he has been. Little dar- 
 ling ! But I hope he will get on here. 
 Lady Sarah quite fell in love with him ; 
 she talked of him all the next day. It 
 seemed as if she could not put him out 
 of her head.' 
 
 'And you, Dorothea dear, how are you?' 
 
 ' Oh, perfectly well. I have so much 
 to tell you. May; it seems such an age 
 since I came here. May, how well you 
 look ! I don't mean that exactly, either, 
 for you are paler and thinner, but how 
 sweet and pretty.' 
 
 Mabel laughed. ' That is because of 
 mamma's lace dress. See, don't you know 
 it ? She has had it done up again for me 
 while I am here. Does it not look well ?'
 
 TREGARTHEN. 303 
 
 ' Something makes you look well.' 
 
 ' I am glad that you like it. I hope 
 that I shall do;' making a little anxious 
 backward movement, to display herself to 
 her sister. 
 
 It was Dorothea's turn to laugh, but her 
 laugh was not quite such a pleasant one 
 as that of Mabel. 
 
 ' Do ! Oh, yes, anything almost will do 
 for us here. You know ' 
 
 Mabel turned to look whether the maid 
 was there, but she was discreet, and had 
 retired when her work was ended. 
 
 ' Well, dear, I know what ?' 
 
 ' Why, that we are a different order of 
 beings from the worthy people here. Any- 
 thing is good enough for us.' 
 
 ' Dorothea! Are they not kind to you?' 
 
 ' Kind ? Oh, yes, excessively kind ; 
 that is just it. They never forget to be 
 kind, but people are not exactly kind to 
 those who are kin to them. I don't be- 
 lieve in that derivation of the word. May.
 
 304 TREGARTHEN. 
 
 You won't, when you have been here for 
 a day or two.' 
 
 ' But, Dora dear, I hoped that you were 
 happy here ?' 
 
 ' So I have been. It was rather a pill 
 to swallow when I first understood how 
 they looked on us all, but there was no- 
 thing in it when once I had the sense to 
 gulp it down. It is common-sense. May, 
 after all. We may have the same an- 
 cestor in Adam, but that is a long time 
 ago, and people do alter with generations 
 of training and development. We are 
 not the same as they. We have not the 
 same habits, or thoughts, or aims in life. 
 They may be the better, or they may be 
 the worse for it ; I don't think they are the 
 happier, but they are more — more — well, 
 I can't exactly say what I mean, but we 
 must make up our minds to it. May, and 
 there it is.' 
 
 Mabel looked very thoughtful. It was
 
 TREGARTHEX. 305 
 
 not altogether because of this new phase of 
 life which Dora revealed to her, but that 
 her sister had altered. She was more grown 
 up, more self-reliant, a little harder in tone 
 than the Dorothea of old. There was evi- 
 dently a change, all Mabel's ideas required 
 re-adjustment. But this w^as thrust away 
 by her sister's next speech. 
 
 ' I wish it were not all in such a hurry, 
 I want a good long talk with you, Mab. 
 Miss Courtney w^ants to take me to Italy.* 
 
 ' To Italy ! You, Dora ! ^Yhen ? How ? 
 How splendid for you !' 
 
 ' Well, you see, she is very delicate. 
 Lady Sarah is anxious about her, and they 
 think it necessary for her to be kept cheer- 
 fully amused, and employed and that. We 
 have got on very well together — since I 
 gulped down my pill — and she does not 
 want to part with me. I do not like the 
 idea of being a companion, for that is what 
 it amounts to. I could not keep up the 
 
 VOL. I. X
 
 306 TREGARTHEN. 
 
 dress and expenses required unless I 
 accepted a salary ; and it would be best to 
 have it definitely arranged. I might save 
 out of that, and having presents would 
 amount to the same thing in the end. 
 The position would be the same, virtually, 
 minus the independence. But we should 
 go to Paris first, and then to Hyeres for 
 the winter, and then to Italy, and be in 
 Rome for Easter. All my expenses would 
 be paid — my travelling expenses and liv- 
 ing and that, I mean, — and I should share 
 in Miss Courtney's lessons in Paris and 
 elsewhere. I should be quite off papa's 
 hands, and, when we come home again, 
 I might have improved so much that I 
 could really maintain myself by art. Do 
 you think papa and mamma would let me 
 go?' 
 
 ' Dora ! you take my breath away ! Is 
 Miss Courtney here now?' 
 
 ' No, she went to her sister's wedding 
 the day before yesterday. As soon as
 
 TREGARTHEN. 307 
 
 that is over, she will talk to Sir Thomas 
 Courtney about it, and refer it to papa. 
 Lady Sarah thinks it such a good thing 
 that she has quite asked me to accept. 
 The aunts are delighted, they do not seem 
 to see anything infra dig. about it. They 
 are quite accustomed to looking upon 
 themselves as inferiors, and accept the 
 situation as a matter of course. It is only 
 we who are proud. May.' 
 
 ' Dear Dora ! I could not bear for you 
 to be mortified or patronised among these 
 haughty people. We are very happy in 
 London. Don't go.' 
 
 ' But, May, I could not get these advan- 
 tages without putting up with something. 
 I do want to get on so. It will be all the 
 same a hundred years hence. All the fine 
 old artists had to bow before patronage, 
 you know. But there is the dinner-bell, 
 we must go down. I'll call Hawken to 
 sit with Steenie, in case he wakes up. We 
 will have a long talk when we come up
 
 308 TREGARTHEN. 
 
 to bed, May. I have ever so much to tell 
 you. Kiss me, dear.' 
 
 The sisters embraced fondly. Dorothea's 
 artistic fingers re-arranged the ribbons on 
 Mabel's dress, fixed a crimson rose in 
 her hair; she stood back for a moment 
 or two, looking at her, with her head now 
 on this side and now on that, to see if 
 anything further could be done. 
 
 ' You will do. May,' said she. ' You are 
 really very pretty, it never struck me be- 
 fore how pretty you are. Far more really 
 so than Augusta Courtney, who is thought 
 such a beauty.' 
 
 'Fine feathers,' laughed May, but her 
 laugh was a little nervous. 
 
 ' Come along,' said Dorothea, as the 
 second bell sounded. 
 
 The two girls went down together. 
 
 END OF THE FIRST VOLUME. 
 
 LONDON : PRINTED BY DUNCAN MAODONALD, BLENHEIM HOUSE.
 
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