LI B RARY OF THE U N1VER.5ITY or ILLINOIS KIT €Mm Digitized by the Internet Archive in 2009 with funding from University of Illinois Urbana-Champaign http://www.archive.org/details/queenmab01kava QUEEN M A B. BT JULIA KAVANAGH, AUTHOE OF •XATHALTE," ^'ADELE," &-C.. &c. IX THREE VOLUMES. VOL. I. LONDON: HURST AND BLACKETT, PUBLISHERS, SUCCESSORS TO HENRY COLBURN, 13, GREAT ilAELBOEOUGH STBEET. 1863. The rigfit of Translation is reserved. LONDON ; PRINTED BY aiACDONALD AND TUGAN-ELL, BLENHEIM HOUSE, BLENHEIM STREET, OXFORD STREET. CO lO CD I 2: ^ PART THE FIRST S Q ^ JOHN FORD. i ^ i>^ VOL. I QUEEN MAB. CHAPTER I. Queen Square, Bloomsbuir, is a quiet place. Seciu'elyit sleeps within tlie shelter of the neighbour- ing Law and the sliadow of a few old trees. It hears, indeed, the subdued roar of Holborn, and the distant hum of the city ; but it hears them as in a dream, and, heeding neither, it slumbers and dozes on. Its lot is cast in peace and silence; rude carriages distm-b it not, for it has but a few incon- venient outlets, and intruding feet seldom profane the grass that grows freely between its ancient fla^s. It has seen better days, that a glance will tell, but the ghost of departed greatness protects it from the last humiliation of decay : it is not popu- lous. It has ceased to be fashionable, but, thank heaven, it is still '^ genteel." B 2 4 QUEEN MAB. The houses suit the place : they are old, brown, substantial burgher houses — they have never been palatial mansions. They deal little with the va- nities of life, but mind their own concerns, and see to their little gardens behind, and look at their green and quiet square in front, with its damp stained statue of that Queen Anne who took and filled her father's throne, and was called " Good." To persons of a speculative turn who see such a place for the first time, it is a perfect godsend. If they enter it from Gloucester Street, for instance, fresh from the turmoil of Holborn, they are struck with its quaint charm ; for one it has, and quite its own. To be sure, it is neither picturesque, nor pretty, nor beautiful. It was never meant to answer any of these epithets, but then we do not look for beauty in great commercial cities; and who that is wise would wish to live in a pictureque neighbourhood, or would even indulge in conjec- tures concerning its inhabitants. But here the very absence of all that is brilliant or striking is a temptation. In that shady house beyond a stu- dent might roost and dream away a lifetime. In its sad looking neighbour an invalid, to Nvhom country air was no necessity, might pass through querulous years, and not be affronted with the cheerfulness of places more favoured. In this a miser might hoard his gold, and contrive QUEEN MAB. 5 hiding-places of his owii. Or a disappointed man might hide his head from the world's cold scorn, and sink unheeded into his grave. But whatever the tenant might be, that decorum which seems innate in Queen Square, would be expected to mark his habitation. Now, it was precisely decorum that was wanting in Mr. Ford's house. It was that which made it look so singular and incongruous a dw^elling. It had no business in Queen Square. It was as well built, as valuable a freehold as its neighbom's on either hand, but they looked comfortable if not affluent, and Mr. Ford's house was decidedly shabby and poor. Their very plainness was sug- gestive of citizen comforts; they were homes where a hearty Christmas dinner could be served up, and whence a respectable funeral could issue, after gout and good living had done their work ; but Mr. Ford's house, dingy and forlorn, suggested none but images of poverty or avarice. A miserly or a needy man alone could inhabit this desolate abode. Country poverty has its graceful aspect ; weeds gi'ow prettily amongst the loose stones, and moss does verv' well on a roof ; we need not even trench upon iw, which belongs to mins, to make some- thing nice and becoming of a dilapidated comitry- mansion ; but London decay is like London itself, rather giim, smoky, and dirty, and Mr. Ford's b QUEEN MAB. house was inconceivably dreary to look at. The doorsteps, that last stronohold of English cleanli- ness, were of a dull grey, and told of a negligent or overtasked maid-of-all-work. The paint on the door was worn away in frightful patches of scarred brown. The handle of the area bell was l)roken ; and the bell itself, when put in motion by some mysterious piece of mechanism, uttered a faint and ghostlike squeak. The curtains of the kitchen windows were yellow rags torn and never mended. The faded bhnd of the parlour window was of a common printed pattern ; poor and miserable looked its Gothic arches that nearly met a rusty iron screen, savingly substituted to the clear muslin of the neighbouring houses. The first floor, indeed, had a decent look. The yellow blinds were never raised — but, though yellow, they were whole; and everyone knew, moreover, that behind them there was a tale and a mystery; but the second and third storeys were even more conspicuous than the lower part of the house. Broken panes, mended with brown paper stuck on with wafers, were of common occurrence in those unfortunate regions; it was even said that sundry garments had there been hung out to dry. '^ But that must be a slander," as Mrs. Smith kindly remarked ; " for had they not the garden and the back windows ?" Mrs. Slater, who owned a house in Devonshire Street, took a QUEEX MAB. 7 less lenient view of the matter, and openly de- clared, " Mr. Ford's house was a disgrace to the Square, it was. And she did not care who heard her saying so. And she neither cared nor knew who jMr. Ford was." Part of this declaration was very true. ]Mrs. Slater did not know who ^Ir. Ford was, and Queen Square was no ^^^ser than ^Irs. Slater. Some knowledge indeed it had, Ijut of that broad delusive kind which is almost worse than complete ignorance. This at least leaves imagination free; now to know a little is to be fettered in a most unpleasant man- ner. It is in some soil to be compelled to the labour of distorting, and not to be allowed the de- lightful liberty of invention. ^Ir. Ford's house was his own freehold pro- perty — that everyone knew ; he had also chambers somewhere, but what he did there, none seemed able to decide. He led a dull, silent sort of life ; his three boys, a grim servant-woman, and ^Ir. Ford himself, were the only persons on whom the shabby door ever opened and shut again. Visitors being unknown at Mr. Ford's, attention became all the keener : and ^Ir. Ford, a shabby-genteel man, with a step alternately depressed and elastic, his raw scape-grace-looking boys, and Susan, who put no questions and answered none, became the legitimate prey of the inquisitive. Very little was 8 QUEEN MAB. made of them. Anyone could see that though the boys outgrew their trousers and jackets, these were seldom renewed ; that Mr. Ford's coat grew whiter at the seams, and his nose rather redder as time passed : and that Susan's temper, as displayed in her conversations at the front door, or from the bottom of the area steps, did not become more mellow as Susan herself ripened. But such general discoveries only heightened curiosity, by suggesting all that remained unknown. That much was left to find out was certain. In the first place, there was Mrs. Ford ; what had Mr. Ford done with her ? She was not dead. Even Susan admitted that by implication, since, when questioned, she in- variably answered in her sharpest tones and angriest key, "that Missus was very well, she was." And. it was pretty well ascertained that, well or ill, the missing lady, whom not a soul had seen for the last seven years, was to be found behind those drawing-room blinds, which were never raised in day-time at least. But what did that prove ? as the French say. Was she crazy, a prisoner, an in- valid, or a hypochondriac ? No one knew ; and heaven alone knows what extraordinary conjec- tures were rife in Queen Square on this subject. Such being the sort of interest Mr. Ford's house excited in the minds of his neighbours, the vigi- lance of their curiosity may be imagined. As a QUEEN MAB. 9 general rule, there was little or nothing to repay it ; but a most interesting exception occurred on a gusty autumn afternoon. A double knock, a genuine double knock, was heard at ^Ir. Ford's door. Two cautious heads appeared ; one at the parlour window of the house on the right-hand side, the other at the attic of that on the left. They were quickly withdrawn as ^Ir. Ford's visitor looked round and leered at ^Irs. Buckly, then nodded waggishly at Mar\' Anne. He had leisure to do so, for the unusual event of a double knock not ha^-ing been attended to, he had to repeat it with such an increase of force as secured attention. Susan, the sourest of sour-looking housemaids, came and opened, wiping her hands on a greasy apron as she did so, and looking askance at the visitor. " Mr. Ford at home ?" he said, jauntily swinging his cane. " I shall see, sir," mistinistfully replied Susan ; " what name, please, sir ?" " Captain George. Oh ! he's at home for Cap- tain George. Tell him his cousin, Captain George, wishes to speak to him five minutes — that's all." Susan obeyed slowly, not without first giving Captain George a suspicious look. He was a tall and handsome man of sixty, or thereabouts. He had brown eyes, dark hair, sil- vering fast, and mustachios carefully trimmed. 10 QUEEN MAB. He had, also, very good, straight features, and a pleasant smile, that revealed teeth of pearl ; and, conscious of these personal advantages, Captain George displayed them to every female gaze with the most graceful liberality. He now smiled at Susan, spite her evident mistrust, and, f oUow^ing her in, kindly shut the street door, and at once made his way to the parlour; but Susan was first, and, lay- ing her hand on the lock, stared sternly at him. Captain George, by no means daunted, kissed his hand ; and as Susan, amazed and indignant, was going to ask him what he meant by it, he added, with a wink, ^' Good — eh f in a tone so evidently meant for a third person, that Susan at once looked round. Peering through the banisters of the kitchen staircase, she saw the face of a boy, eating, -sA'ith evident relish, into a good-sized tart. At once Susan left the parlour door, and, making a dart at the boy, she shook him soundly. " So you have been and eaten your poor ma's tart. Eh ! have you ? — have you ?" Every question was accompanied by a shake. The culprit attempted resistance ; a scuffle fol- lowed, and the noise attracted a lad of thirteen, fair, and very handsome, who at once put away Susan, and stepped between her and her vic- tim. QUEEN MAB. 11 " You must not, Sue/' he said, sharply ; " don't you be afraid, Neddy — I am here." " Do you know what he has been and done, Master Robert f asked Susan ; " been and eaten missus's tart — and how am I to get her another ?" " He did wrong, but you must not touch Inm," doggedly said the elder boy ; " I don't allow Neddy to be beaten at school, and no one shall lay a finger on him at home." " She pulled my hair 1" whimpered Neddy ; " and if I ate the tart, William ate^ the pigeon." " Well, then, if I don't settle master William for it I" cried Susan, exas])erated, " that's all." ^*I tell you — you shall not touch William either," said the elder brother ; " no one shall beat my brothers whilst I am by. I shall punish them. Send William to me ; and you, Neddy, just come tliis way." He pushed the boy before him, through what seemed to be a garden door. Susan stood looking sullenly at them ; and Cap- tain George, an amused and observant spectator of this scene, now that it was over, coolly opened tlie parlour door, and, putting in his head, without waiting to have his name taken in, said in his pleasant way, "It's only me. Never mind me. It's only Captain George." 12 QUEEN MAB. The parlour which Captain George thus uncere- moniously entered was a peculiar one ; and not having seen it for something like seven or eight years, that gentleman allowed his keen brown eyes to examine it curiously, whilst he exchanged a cor- dial greeting, coolly received, with Mr. Ford. Captain George's first impression was, that he had never seen so comfortless, so untidy, so dii'ty a place; his second, that his cousin was even a poorer man than the outward appearance of his house, the behaviour of Susan, and the scene on the staircase, all strengthened by some private in- formation, had led him to suppose. There was everything to justify both impressions. Tobacco smoke liung in clouds in the air ; the paper hang- ings were dark with dirt and stains, where they were not torn away in strips, leaving the white walls bare. The table near the window was a litter of books, papers, dirty tumblers, cigar boxes, and bottles of various sizes. The old horse-hair sofa was broken in many places, and recklessly allowed its stuffing to escape. The chairs looked rickety and insecure. The carpet on the floor was full of holes and rents — a trap to unwary feet. The dusty mantel-shelf, above which hung a dull looking-glass with a long crack, was covered with dreary attempts at ornament. An old picture, a broken china vase, an empty watch- QUEEN MAB. 13 case, stood far apart on that long line of yellow board. The untidy hearth, still strewn with the ashes and cinders of a long-extinct fire, crowned this pictnre of domestic discomfort. Captain George saw it all, whilst he shook his cousin by the hand, paternally patting it with both his, proofs of affection which, as we already said, ^Ii\ Ford re- ceived coldly enough. ^Ir. Ford was a man of forty-two, who had once been handsome, but who was now too worn and haggard to have any claim to the epithet. He was tall and sharp-featured, with good-natured though obstinate brown eyes, and a weak nether lip, that betrayed temper as well as weakness. His high, broad forehead had intellectual claims, but it was both feeble and haughty. His look, his smile, offered the same contradictions. There was shrewd- ness in the one, and kindness in the other; but ^Ir. Ford's look was not always intelligent, and his smile was often sarcastic, when it w^as not envious. He was, indeed, made up of the contrasts which are found in unsuccessful men, the result of broken aims and ever disappointed hopes, and unsuccess- ful was written in his whole aspect. His uncer- tain carriage and half -stoop, his loose gait in spite of great physical strength, his very hands tlu'ust in his pockets, and his feet shuffling in a pair of old sHppers, completed the story of the dismal ruin, one 14 QUEEN MAB. of the saddest eyes ever gazed on, that of a man. Of these unpleasant facts, Captain George chose to remain unconscious. He closed his men- tal vision, and saw a cheerful parlour, and a happy, prosperou.s man. " Went to your chambers, and not finding you, came here," he said, gaily sitting down on a broken chair, and heroically disregarding its warn- ing groan. " A comfortable place you have of it. Poor Mrs. Ford — poor Mrs. Ford — a great trouble." And Captain George meditatively smoothed his moustachios, and, in his compassion for Mr. Ford's troubles, abstractedly poured him- self out a glass of rum. " How is Mrs. George ?" rather sulkily asked Mr. Ford, thrusting his hands deeper in his pockets, and leaning back in his chair. " Not very well — not very well," replied Cap- tain George, speaking softly, as if he were address- ing the invalid lady herself ; " Mrs. George is very delicate — very much so — like Mrs. Ford — all the ladies are, I am afraid." " And so you went to my chambers," impa- tiently said Mr. Ford. " Oh ! to be sure ! Fine little fellows those of yours ! Gad, sir, I thought we should have had a battle on the kitchen stairs. William had eaten a pigeon, and Ned had .tucked in a tart, and Susan QUEEX MAB. 15 was for immediate justice. But what's the big one's name "? Robert, ay ? Robert held out man- fully for his little brothers — shan't touch them ; I don't allow my little brothers to be beaten at school, and you shan't touch them ; Fll punish them ; and off he marches vdih. them. Capital — on my word — capital — ha, ha I A regular trump, that boy of yours." ** And so you went to my chambers," said Mr. Ford again. " That's to say, what brings you here, eh ? That big boy is just like you. Just like you." " So much the worse for himself," morosely re- plied ^Ir. Ford. "Come, old fellow, don't 1)e so sulky," said Captain George, giving him a jovial thrust with the end of his cane ; " if I hunted you out to-day, it was to do you a good tmii. ^^ly, man, you know as well as any one that Captain George is a good- natured fellow, rather fiery now and then, but a good-natured fellow." A most knowincj ^vink of the left eve, a wink that recalled to ^Ir. Ford's memory man}- a merry night, when Captain George had at least put on wonderfully well the appearance, if he did not possess the reality, of good-nature, compelled a smile, an advantage which Captain George at once followed up. 16 QUEEN MAB. " I have come to make your fortune," lie said, striking his stick on the floor, and giving every word suitable emphasis. " Have you made yours ? " asked Mr. Ford. " I have come to make your fortune," repeated Captain George, disdaining to answer the question. " A hundred pounds, no more, sir, will make your fortune this very day." Mr. Ford was just then very much in want of a guinea, and to be asked for a hundred pounds by the least trustworthy of his acquaintance, was not soothing, even though the end in view was so excellent as the making of his fortune. He could not even consider the proposal under its ludicrous aspect. He felt sharp, irritable, and full of his wrongs, and humour and Captain George were equally foreign to his mood. An exclamation which did not convey a benediction rose to his lips, but hospitality checked it, and it subsided into a sort of impatient and half-muttered growl. " Not a hundred ! — well, then, five hundred, say five hundred," facetiously added Captain George. " You had better not," exclaimed Mr. Ford, looking much excited — '^ you had better not, Cap- tain George." " Why, you are just like that boy of yours now," said Captain George — " shan't touch them, no one shall touch my brothers. You are just like him now — a regular trump that boy is !" QUEEN MAB. 1 7 " I tell youyou had better not," resumed Mr. Ford, with rising anofer. ^' I am not to be fooled out of any more money. And if I had what I lent you, and what I " " Now, what's the use of ripping up old sores," expostulated Captain George, " let bygones be bygones. If you had not been good-natured to me formerly, you know well enough I should not now have this opportunity of doing you a good turn. And, seriously, what is a hundred pounds ? Now, what is it ? " Mr. Ford's glass was by him — he took and drained it sullenly. ^' A wilful man — a wilful man," said Captain George. " Now, just listen to me ; hear me, only hear me, my dear fellow, and I will convince you that the money must be found. Now, just listen ; but are you sure we are alone ?" "Ay, alone enough." "No fear of that pleasant-looking maid of yours," here Captain George winked in the direc- tion of the kitchen stairs, "having her ear at the keyhole." Mr. Ford impatiently grumbled that there was no fear ; upon which Captain George rose, and, cautiously putting his hand to his mouth, whispered something in ^li\ ford's ear. " Mines," audibly said Mr. Ford. VOL. I. C 18 QUEEN MAB. "Hush — sli! my dear fellow," and Captain George whispered again. " There was to be a canal once," surlily said Mr. Ford. " The fortune of war," replied Captain George, with great coolness, "the fortune of war. A hundred pounds will do it this time — not guineas, mind ; a hundred pounds ! " Mr. Ford rested his elbow on the table and leaned his cheek on his hand. He had not a hundred pounds indeed, but he had been staggered by Captain George's whispers, and Captain George, who knew his face of old, was quite aware of the fact. " It is to your strong practical sense I appeal, my dear fellow," he said, insidiously, praising Mr. Ford for the quality he least possessed. " If any one understands these matters you do; and whether you invest or not, I shall be glad of your opinion on my own account." "Oh! that is it, is it!" sneered Mr. Ford, "I thought you had some object in coming here to- day." Captain George looked at Mr. Ford with pro- found admiration, winked, gave him a thrust of his cane, and drawing a packet of papers from the breast-pocket of his coat, he put them on the table with an empliatic thump of his left hand, and a significant " there !" QUEEN MAB. 19 ^Ir. Ford took the papers up and glanced hastily over them. Then he began at the begmning, and whilst Captain George leaned back in his chair and surveyed the walls and the ceiling, he read them through with close attention. ]Mr. Ford was, unfortunately for himself, an excellent judge of business matters, and he soon perceived that the speculation had every appearance of being sound and fortunate. Judgment is of two kinds — critical and practical. Mr. Ford's was cntical ; no one knew better than he did the weak or the strong point of this world's concerns. In these matters he was keen, clear-sighted and sensible, but even as good critics rarely \NTite good books, so ^Ir. Ford, who saw so clearly and so well where the elements of success lay, never yet had known how to secure its fruits. The undertakings in which he had embarked were all fair and prosperous, but either he withdrew too soon from them through caprice, or he stayed too long through obstinacy. That practical sense which enables men, ignorant, untaught, and often inexperienced, to do the right thing at the right moment, was that which failed him. He said he was unlucky, and many people said so too ; and so he was, but his was the ill luck not of circumstance, but of character, the mur>t fatal of any. With secret irritation and discontent, he now C 2 '20 QUEEN MAB. read those sheets of foolscap, pregnant with golden promises, none of which could be fulfilled for him. '^ Even if I had the money, something would come to cross it all," was his bitter thought ; " and I have not got it ; and that fool, who cannot know this thing will answer — or he would not ha\e come to me — will reap all the benefit." " Well," anxiously said Captain George, who had been sucking the head of his cane for the last five minutes. "Well," said Mr. Ford, pushing away the papers with an impatient sigh, " it looks well, but I will have nothing to do with it." Captain George's face fell. "Then you don't think well of it," he said, taking up the papers. " Oh ! yes, I do ; but just leave me these for a day or so — I had better look at them again." Captain George obeyed with great alacrity; then, suddenly looking uneasy, " I say. Ford, fair play ; don't invest, and not tell me : fair play — eh V " If you talk of fair play, I shall begin and sus- pect something," said Mr. Ford, sharply ; " I have already told you I shall not invest." Captain George poured himself out a glass of rum, shook his head, rose, and walked out. Mr. Ford saw him to the door. On the last step, Cap- QUEEN MAB. 21 tain George turned round, and nodding with what looked very like drunken solemnity, he said, with much emphasis : "Deep, Ford, deep — devilishly deep," and walked away. 22 CHAPTER II. Mr. Ford closed the door on his visitor; then going to the head of the kitchen stairs, he asked, in a subdued tone, " Susan, are the boys ready to go and see their mother f ' " The boys ha' been and adone all sorts of mis- chief, sir," shortly answered Susan, appearing on the stairs, and speaking in the same key ; " whilst I opened the door to the strange gentleman, one ate the tart, and the other the pigeon, that was for missus's dinner. They're worse than cats, them boys — they are ! " Mr. Ford had a pimple on his forehead, which he always scratched in cases of difficulty. He now recurred to it with a look more perplexed than in- dignant. " I am afraid the poor fellows are often hungry," QUEEN MAB. 23 sighed ^Ir. Ford ; " you must get something else, Susan." "I told missus the cat had done it. God forgive me all the stories 1 do tell in this house. And she said * never mind.' " " Well, that is all right ; is it not?" " Why, no, sir, it ain't. The cat made me bring in Mary Ann, and what do you think missus is up to now ? ^^Tiy, she wants Marv^ Ann up-stairs." Now Mary Ann was a fiction, the myth of the household, and this was a most inconvenient wish, as ^Ir. Ford's lengthened face expressed. " I put it off, sa\ing Mary Ann was ill in bed," pursued Susan ; " but that is not all, missus wishes for fruit. Xow, sir, Covent-garden is not far off : but I put it to you, sir, can I get cherries at this time of the year f " Perhaps hot-house grapes would do," suggested ^Mr. Ford, looking deeply peq^lexed. " Perhaps they will," doubtfully said Susan ; " and perhaps they \^dll not ; but that ain't all. !Missus wants an organ." " A harmonium, you mean ; well — perhaps I can get one on hire." But when Mr. Ford looked round his wTetched home, when he remembered his debts and his downhill name, he wondered who would be so fool- hardy as to trust him with an instrument. 24 QUEEN MAB. " Perhaps an accordion would do," said Susan, looking sagacious ; " organs are only fit for churches." But Mr. Ford shook his head. His wife had been an accomplished musician, and none hut a first-rate instrument would answer her. " God help me !" he exclaimed, distractedly ; " it will be all out if she does not get that harmo- nium, and it will break her heart, Susan, it will break her heart, not for herself, but for the boys and me." Tears stood in his eyes, and Susan looked sorely troubled, but the accordion had exhausted her short stores of comfort. " Well," said Mr. Ford, with a deep sigh, " I must put her off for a while ; and say I am pro- mised one. Tell the boys to dress, and come to me, Susan, and then I'll see." Alas ! " I'll see," was an old phrase, and Susan knew it but too well. " I'll see" had often paid Susan's wages, and been the final settlement of many a bill; but "I'll see" had never wrought any substantial good. " And if she counts on ' I'll see,' for her organ," thought Susan, as she went up -stairs, "she'll wait long enough." Poor Mr. Ford remained absorbed in perplexing meditations. From whom could he borrow ? — what could he sell to get that harmonium for his wife ? QUEEN MAB. 25 " Decidedly she is getting better," he thought ; ^'' for once she could bear no noise, and now she wants to make a noise that will fill the house. She is getting better, that is one comfort." "The boys are ready, sir," whispered Susan, on the staircase. " Have they got on their good shoes, Susan ?" "They have, sh-." " Mind you stay outside, and make them take their things off at once, Susan." " No fear of it, sir." " And, Susan, tell Robert to give them a talking about the tart and the pigeon. They mind him more than they do me." Susan nodded grimly, and ]Mr. Ford softly went up the staircase. The three boys were standing on the landing. Their faces were washed ; their hair was brushed ; their attire was neat and clean. Their father gave them a scrutinizing glance, then opening the drawing-room door, he signed them to enter. They obeyed, in silence. He followed them on tiptoe, and closed the door with so much care, that it made not the least noise. The drawing-room of ^Ir. Ford's house offered a very striking contrast to the squalid parlour be- low. Here time had stood still ; the seven years during which the lower regions had lost the rule of the mistress of the house and gone to chaos, had 26 QUEEN MAB. left no trace of their passage upstairs. Mrs. Ford's drawing-room looked as quiet, as decorous as when it had been closed on visitors and guests seven years before. Like its tenant, it was melancholy and faded, a token of better times, when life w^as young and hope had her day ; but the furniture, if not as fresh, was as good as new ; a carpet that would still wear many years — for who ever trod on it — spread its faded roses on the floor. The dark velvet curtains seemed to have been just hung by the upholsterer, in their heavy, precise folds on either side of the yellow blinds that were kept rigidly closed ; for the invalid could not bear even the mild light of Queen Square. Everything had the same fixed and subdued aspect. The tables were set exactly in their places ; the chairs seemed to belong to the walls, where they had grown old- fashioned, unused. The pictures, mere family portraits, were shrouded, in thick coverings, from the weary gaze of the sick lady ; the very looking- glass over the cold and dreary fireplace was veiled with a half-transparent tissue, through which it re- flected, in dim outlines, the gloomy furniture, but gave back no distinct image to the look of Mrs. Ford. Books, woman's w^ork, graceful trifles were absent from this melancholy apartment, where all spoke of a painful stillness — of a life suddenly and prematurely checked in its flow, and nothing more QUEEN MAB. 27 SO than the calm motionless figure of Mrs. Ford herself, as she sat in her chair — ^ith closed eyes and clasped hands, her head bent, her figure, -NATapped in a long, loose dark robe, like a monastic garment. Mrs. Ford was one of those fair women with chiselled features full of repose, who even in the inevitable decay of health and youth, suggest great past beauty. Nature had given her the smooth Grecian forehead, the straight nose, and exquisite lips of the Venus of Milo. She had also bestowed on her the noble neck, the stately figure of that immortal image of woman's majestic loveli- ness ; and though time and disease had done their work, though pain had contracted the brow, though the large blue eyes had grown cold and vacant, though the lips were pale and the cheeks colour- less, and the wasted figure had learned to stoop, that subtle part of beauty which survives the bloom and the full outlines of youth still lingered over all. For the last seven years, ever since the birth of her youngest child, Mrs. Ford had not left the first floor, where we now find her. Visitors — few though they were — were never admitted to her presence. She had no near relatives in England ; and her complaint, a nerv^ous one, required abso- lute rest. Her children saw her rarely, and then 28 QUEEN MAB. in silence. Susan and Mr. Ford alone spoke to lier. Mr. Ford considered his wife's long and myste- rious illness one of the many sorrows of his lot, and not without cause. She had been, though he knew it not, the good genius of his life ; and it was since her withdrawal from its concerns that it had sunk into the slough of Despond. Since then the furniture had got broken, and Mr. Ford's coat greasy and shabby ; since then he had deserted his chambers, and muddled over grog at home ; since then the children had grown up, lawless, and bills had accumulated ; and nothing had gone well from the day when the firm though gentle mind which had ruled the household and influenced its master, had been conquered by insidious disease. "My dear!" whispered Mr. Ford; "the chil- dren !" Mrs. Ford looked up. A faded smile passed across her lips. She gazed at the three boys ; she embraced the youngest first, then William, then Robert. Then she looked at them again. " Do they study well ? " she asked of her hus- band. "Admirably; indeed," coolly continued Mr. Ford, who had kept his children at home for a week through his own inability to pay for their schooling, and the schoolmaster's decided re- QUEEN MAB. 29 luctance to trust him any longer — ^' indeed, I am looking out for a tutor for them, and I think ." What other invention Mr. Ford was going to indulge in, we cannot say; but it sud- denly occurred to him that this school of deceit might not be the best for his children to listen to, and he abruptly added, " Have they not been long enough here, my dear ?*' ^irs. Ford nodded assent, and the three boys left the room, to Mr. Ford's infinite relief. He was always on thorns lest they should ^' let out some- thing," to use his o\\'n words. He closed the door upon them, and came back to his Tvife ; he sat down by her side. She shut her eyes. She could look at her children, but the sight of any other face was distasteful to her, especially so was that of her husband. Theirs had been a love-match. At twenty- three Alicia Xorton was what men call " a splendid creature," and women correctively "a ver}'fine girl." She had ten thousand pounds, and suitors for her hand abounded. Some were titled, many prosper- ous — John Ford, a poor struggling lawyer, was pre- feiTed. He was then a handsome man of twenty- seven, but his weak nether lip, his vacillating look, and the irritable cast of his features, would have warn- ed away a wiser woman. Alicia saw the kindness of his glance and smile, and took it for goodness. She 30 QUEEN MAB. heard the confident assertions, the resentful pro- tests of a vain man, and she took them for the as- pirations and susceptibiUty of a man of ambition and strong character. Mr. Ford was neither ; he had talent, honesty, and bouyant hopes, but little more. One of his first acts was to invest his wife's ten thousand pounds in a speculation that promised well, but from which wise men soon withdrew. Mr. Ford disregarded, or received with complacent smiles, his wife's hesitating objections. Before six months were over the ten thousand pounds had en- riched a few knaves, and were lost for ever to Alicia and her children yet unborn. Spite this mistake, which he would not ackowledge, Mr. Ford did not forfeit at once his wife's confidence. She still hoped in him, and believed in the future ; but a few years after this loss, five thousand pounds which Mr. Ford inherited from an uncle, shared the same fate ; Mrs. Ford had little or no imagina- tion — love could give her illusions, but once the hard touch of reality had dispelled them, there was in her no power to call them back. She now saw her husband as he was — good-natm^ed, obsti- nate, foolish, and intellectual, and her pride in him was gone for ever. Mrs. Ford was a very proud woman. She would not acknowledge that she had been mis- taken ; no, it was Mr. Ford who had deceived her. QUEEN MAB. 31 She did not reproach him ; but she brooded over her wrongs with the obstinacy of a narrow mind, and the bitterness of a wounded heart. Of this Mr. Ford remained unconscious. He adored his wife, and was convinced that she adored him. At the same time, he thought himself supe- rior to her, and showed her that he thought so. He concealed none of his weaknesses from her. Nay, he was rather lavish in displapng them to her gaze. She saw that though his kind heart could win him friends, his irritable temper would allow him to keep none. Mr. Ford cast away from him every helping hand, and whilst many derived benefit from him, he derived benefit from none. This result, which he was clear- sighted enough to see, but not frank enough to acknowledge, made him sore. He took scornful \iews of human nature, and grew sour at home. Yet he still fondly loved his wife. His love increased instead of lessening \Nnth years, whilst hers daily grew weaker, and at length died entire- Iv. Somethmo; remained : dutv, lukewarm likincr — but not love. Alicia Norton could not do without admiring her husband, and it was impossible to live with ^Ir. Ford and to admire him, spite some sterling quahties. His want of judgment had given her pride a great shock, his folly in ahenating men 32 QUEEN MAB. whom a shrewder man could have made subservient to his own ends, irritated and vexed her : his re- jection of her advice, his carelessness of her opinion offended her, and the strange blindness with which he still believed in her love, and even boasted of it in her presence, made her despise him. His want of success in his profession, which he neglected for ruinous speculations, the poverty to which it con- demned her and her children, made her severe to his weaknesses — and these, alas! were not of the heroic kind. Mr. Ford was an untidy man at home. He was selfish in little things, pettish, irritable, and despotic by fits. His kind heart, his sincere love, could not soften a woman like Alicia. She had convinced herself that he was to blame for having married her, not she for having married him ; and she settled down into a puerile mood of discontent, which she had, however, sufiicient strength and dignity not to betray. She allowed her husband to adore her, and even to enjoy the shew of affec- tion which could deceive him. She no longer ob- truded the advice he would not always follow, but confined her attention to domestic concerns. Sometimes she hated herself for having ever loved him, and sometimes she hated life for having so ruthlessly lost its prizes : Love, wealth, ambition and its rewards. QUEEX MAB. 33 "Some lives are one great wreck," thought Alicia, in her despair, " and such is mine." Her greatest trial was yet to come. Eobert grew up like her in person, and like her husband in temper and manner. ]Mi'. Ford spoke in a drawl, interrupted by loud pettish jerks, and Robert showed signs of imitating the paternal propensity. Eagerly ^Irs. Ford tried to correct the boy and to make him speak in a clear and distinct tone. Ro- bert's vanity was stirred, and he showed himself re- markably ductile, until that same vanity was more powerfully appealed to by his father's unmerciful ridicule. Inspired by an unlucky spirit of opposition, which always seized him at the wrong moment, he did his best to mido his wife's teachincr. "Why, Robert," he said to him with his derisive laugh, " what priggish pedantry have they put into you?" Robert, who was not then much more than six years old, had uot the moral fortitude to -withstand this taunt. His mother saw him redden. " Talk like a man," pursued his father, " and not like a methodist preacher. Why, all the other boys 's^'ill laugh at you when you go to school." " They shan't," sullenly answered Robert. This scene, one of many, was the last Mrs. Ford witnessed. She Hstened to her husband, and never spoke or remonstrated with him. She was not YOL. I. D 34 QUEEN MAB. even angiy with Mr. Ford. No, the sting went deeper. In Robert's sudden and resentful abandonment of her teaching, she recognized the weak vanity of his father. Was he then to grow up hke him ? She was near her third confinement, and as she thought of another child her heart seemed to break within her. Was she, Alicia Norton, to be the mother of a race of fools and of social outcasts 1 She went upstairs that night in an agony of tumultuous feelings and of wounded pride. The child, a third boy, was born before the morning. Its sex gave her the last pang she could suffer as a mother. Another image of her husband ! She never recovered the shock — disease seized her, and made her helpless in her own home. Perhaps the divine chastisement of too much pride. This was a twofold calamity. Whilst illness held her captive upstairs, the house below was going to the ruin of abandonment, dirt, and squalor ; her husband drank and neglected the little business he had, and her children grew up wild, rude, and undisciplined. But the greatest misfortune of all was the complete darkness which settled over Mrs. Ford's mental vision. She be- (nune querulous, ca})ricious, and exacting. She brooded over her wrongs until she could think of and see nothing else. She was an ill-used woman, QUEEN MAB. 35 and ]Mr. Ford was the worst husband a woman had ever had. She was too amiable and too proud to reproach him ; she even called in resignation to her aid, and was heroic enouoh to allow him to see and adckess her ; but his daily presence was an infliction it required all that heroism to bear. All this would have been ridiculous if it had not been trapc in some of its consequences. It was during this long illness, which would have alienated the love of many a better man, that ^Ir. Ford's tenderness for his wife burned ^^-ith purest flame. He proved it in a hundred ways, which, could she but have know^i the least of them, Avould have subdued and humbled even Alicia's proud he