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 http://www.archive.org/details/roseofashurst01mars
 
 THE 
 
 EOSE OF ASHURST, 
 
 BY 
 THE AUTHOE OJT 
 
 EMILIA WYNDHAM," "TWO OLD MEN'S TALES," 
 "EVELYN MARSTON," &c. 
 
 ^ IN THREE VOLUMES. 
 YOL. I. 
 
 LONDON : 
 
 HURST AND BLACKETT, PUBLISHERS, 
 
 SUCCESSORS TO HENRY COLBURN, 
 
 13, GREAT MARLROROUGII STREET. 
 
 1857. 
 
 \T}if, TixQU nj Trans'otiov «,<; Reserved.]
 
 J. Billing, Printer, 103, Hatton Garden, London, and Guildford, Surrey.
 
 V. I 
 
 THE EOSE OF ASHUEST. 
 
 A 
 
 \ INTRODUCTION. 
 
 Y 
 
 Yi It certainly is a very pleasant thing to find 
 ^ oneself the possessor of what is called an easy 
 fortune. Yet, as most of the pleasant things of 
 this world have usually something of the nature of 
 a snare connected with them, it would, perhaps, 
 V be difficult to mention any one agreeable circum- 
 stance with more of hidden snares attending it 
 than this has. So I had found it, at least. 
 
 My father, an easy-going person, inhe- 
 ritor of a small estate ; enjoying, likewise, a 
 moderate reversion from the fortune of my 
 
 VOL. I. B
 
 2 THE ROSE OF ASHURST. 
 
 mother, and having only one child, namely, my- 
 self — had been content to vegetate upon his 
 possessions, without endeavouring in any way 
 to increase or improve them. Satisfied with the 
 persuasion that what had been enough for him- 
 self would be enough for his son. 
 
 His worldly possessions were unfortunately 
 just upon the scale which prevents it being ab- 
 solutely necessary by some means or other to 
 increase them ; though they were far too small 
 to render their management sufficient to en- 
 gage the serious attention of a conscientious 
 man, or worthily to occupy his time and 
 talents. A few hours' application now and then 
 being all that was required for the govern- 
 ment of his small domain — at least, according to 
 the slack and somewhat languid fashion in which 
 my father had all his life been accustomed to 
 discharge, what he had never been taught to 
 look upon, and never had looked upon — in the 
 light of a duty. 
 
 1 had grown up under unfavourable circum-
 
 THE ROSE OF ASHURST. 3 
 
 stances. The acknowledged heir of a moderate 
 estate, the idea had never been entertained that 
 I could possibly have to get my own living — 
 that wholesome conviction \^hich forms the or- 
 dinary stimulus to exertion among boys, was 
 wanting. 
 
 It is astonishing how early children receive 
 impressions of this nature, either to their profit 
 or injury. There was not an old spoiled servant 
 of our slackly- governed and indulgent house- 
 hold, that had not his part in teaching little 
 master, that he was the heir to the estate, that 
 he was a gentleman born and bred, and as such, 
 had not to toil and moil hke the rest of the 
 world. 
 
 I cannot say that my father altogether coun- 
 tenanced such doctrines. So soon as I ap- 
 proached* the years of adolescence, he began 
 seriously to talk to me about my prospects, and 
 to explain the necessity of adopting some plan 
 by which, during his life-time, at least, I might 
 add to the slender allowance he could, without 
 
 B 2
 
 4 THE ROSE OF ASHURST. 
 
 inconvenience, afford me, so as to secure an 
 easy income. 
 
 For any of the laborious professions it was 
 plain I had no turn. I had no habits of per- 
 severing industry, still less had I acquired the 
 invaluable one of doing what I disliked because 
 it was advisable. I had never been sent to 
 school to learn that first of manly lessons, the 
 obstinate nature of circumstances, and the vir- 
 tue — virtus — the courage, spirit, skill, and 
 perseverance required to overcome it. Living 
 at home under the lax sway of my father, and 
 of a tutor to the full as soft and indolent, no- 
 thing had been easier for me than to regulate 
 the course of life much as I pleased — to strug- 
 gle and to vanquish was an effort and a joy I 
 had never known. I had almost literally only 
 to ask and have, so that my character acquired 
 neither tone nor vigour. 
 
 Luckily such training did not render me 
 altogether worthless, for one or two circum- 
 stances had been favourable.
 
 THE ROSE OF ASHURST. O 
 
 In the first place, I possessed from infancy 
 what I may, I think, call a really intelligent and 
 reflective mind ; peculiarly alive to surrounding 
 impressions, and drawing first, from Nature 
 herself, and afterwards from the truth of Nature, 
 as reflected in books, the most lively pleasure. 
 I delighted not much in the sports of the 
 field, for which a certain tenderness of heart 
 many would have called morbid, did not pe- 
 culiarly adapt me ; but in wandering alone 
 among her scenes, inhaling Nature — if I may 
 use the expression — in all her forms — A child, 
 I loved to roam alone in the garden, the shrub- 
 beries ; to watch the nesting birds, the opening 
 flowers, the bees, the butterflies, the very worms 
 —every form of beauty, activity, or sentiment 
 was dear to me. 
 
 The taste was not without, I may hope, a 
 beneficial influence upon my character. There 
 is something so benign in Nature — such an 
 influence of love breathing through her gentler 
 aspects — that it is impossible for any child to
 
 b THE ROSE OF ASHURST. 
 
 consort with her as I did, without insensibly 
 imbibing a certain sweetness and lovingness of 
 temper, and a peaceful tenderness of heart ; and 
 her influences, I think, without affectation 1 
 may say, produced their full efi^ect upon me. 
 
 A more kind-hearted little boy ; one more 
 ready to sympathise with the joys and w^oes of 
 every sentient being, could hardly exist. 
 
 I also enjoyed another signal advantage. 
 
 The vicar of our parish, whose parsonage lay 
 at a short distance from my father's house, was 
 a very aged man. His curate it was that had 
 been engaged as my tutor ; but except his clas- 
 sical accomplishments, the said curate was but an 
 every-day sort of young fellow — a thoroughly 
 worthy one, and intent upon the performance of 
 every duty, but ordinary and narrow-minded to 
 a degree. 
 
 He was, however, the obvious man for my 
 father to take — I will not say choose — for the 
 purpose. He was accepted, simply because 
 he was there. A clergyman, he was sure to
 
 THE ROSE OF ASHURST. 7 
 
 possess the requisite classical qualifications, and 
 he was, moreover, a pleasing, gentleman-like 
 person ; that was all, hut that was enough. 
 But the aged vicar did not look upon things 
 quite in the same way. 
 
 A desolated hearth of his own had made a 
 heart most large and affectionate, seek for some 
 object to satisfy its longings. He took a fancy 
 to the little inquisitive boy. 
 
 I spent much time with him ; learned from 
 him all I know, and acquired from him all the 
 good there is in me. 
 
 He was incapable of correcting the want of 
 my character — a certain straightforward, whole- 
 some desire to make my way in the world. 
 Ambition was too entirely dead within his own 
 desart heart, for him to be able to propose it as 
 a motive to others, even in its best and purest 
 form; he could not, therefore, correct my easy 
 indifference to those objects which excite men 
 to struggle and succeed in the great busy world 
 — but another thing he could do, and he did
 
 8 THE ROSE OF ASHURST. 
 
 — He taught me the imperious nature of duty, 
 and though, perhaps, wanting the power of in- 
 spiring me to the energetic pursuit of good, he 
 filled me with the most salutary horror of wTong. 
 
 He also took much pains to cultivate and 
 rectify my understanding, and to strengthen in 
 me that love of enquiry — that thirst for infor- 
 mation — that taste for simplicity, and that 
 reverence for truth, which were inherent in 
 my natural character. To him I owe almost 
 all of such good things as I may flatter myself 
 that I possess — for man is so formed, that the 
 best natural gifts gradually dwindle into insig- 
 nificance, or perish altogether, when not early 
 cultivated and developed. 
 
 The good and sensible old man read with 
 me and to me, conversed with me, reasoned 
 with me, walked with me ; sat silently watch- 
 ing me when engaged in any one of my nu- 
 merous pursuits, with his pensive, half- me- 
 lancholy, and most benignant smile. He 
 encouraged me in everything that was just and
 
 THE ROSE OP ASHURST. 9 
 
 right, in everything that was lovely and of good 
 report. ^ 
 
 He sleeps now in peace. His honoured 
 grave is in that quiet country churchyard, under 
 the shadow of the fine hoar old church he 
 loved so dearly, but his influences I humbly 
 hope still remain. It was the right seed that he, 
 the Lord's labourer, sowed. Long after he who 
 scattered it had been withdrawn, and his holy 
 influences taken aw^ay, did that seed prove its 
 worth. It was sound stufi^. The common 
 course of life, and of the outer world acting 
 upon it, has not sufficed to blight it, as has been 
 too often the case with many a fair but more 
 delicate grain ; on the contrary, the practice of 
 mankind seems to have nourished and strength- 
 ened it. I humbly believe and trust that the 
 labours of the husbandman shall not have been 
 altogether wasted. 
 
 After much more hesitation, doubt, and 
 consideration on the part of my father, than 
 was usual with him — he ended, as men of his
 
 10 THE ROSE OF ASHURST. 
 
 stamp commonly do, just by taking what was 
 the easiest and most obvious course. He deter- 
 mined, as no profession — we both being agreed 
 upon that point — would suit me, that I should be 
 put into one of the public offices. He was a man 
 of good connections ; it was not difficult for him 
 to get me nominated. Whether fit or unfit, no 
 one at that time of day seemed much to care to 
 enquire. My friends were influential men ; I 
 entered the Foreign Office. 
 
 I did not much like it, upon trial. 
 
 I hated coercion in any form whatsoever — I 
 had never been used to it ; and to have my 
 hours no longer at my own absolute command, 
 appeared to me as a form of the most grievous 
 slavery. 
 
 Yet I submitted, and strove to be patient, 
 though fretting against the light, but necessary 
 restraint, as a young, untrained steed against the 
 slightest curb. But I felt it was reasonable in 
 my father to require this effort of submission, 
 and that it was my duty to yield to his wishes.
 
 THE ROSE OF ASHURST. 11 
 
 So at the Foreign Office I continued some few 
 years — which were, I must own, of considerable 
 use in training me. There were several very 
 agreeable, and some rather remarkable youths 
 working there, at the time I entered. I formed 
 friendships ; saw something of the great world ; 
 escaped being a cub and an oddity ; and acquired 
 tastes and habits which have made me rather 
 an acceptable person in society. So that when 
 the death of my father restored me to that free- 
 dom which I eagerly seized, relinquishing the 
 Foreign Office for ever — I did not at once bury 
 myself in the country, as a year or two earlier 
 I might have done. J. found new wants and 
 desires within me. I longed to see — to see for 
 myself — to gratify, in my own way, my thirst 
 for information, my passion for Nature, and the 
 interest I took in observing men and manners 
 under the most varied forms. So I became a 
 wanderer upon the earth, something in the 
 manner of dear Oliver Goldsmith. 
 
 Of the great world — " Society," as it is called
 
 12 THE ROSE OF ASHURST. 
 
 — I had seen just enough to be wearied of its 
 sameness, but not to have acquired that neces- 
 sity for its stimulus which appears to me so 
 wretched a slavery. 
 
 I thought it then, as I think it still, among 
 the most superficial and least interesting of all 
 forms of human life. My inclinations led me 
 to humbler regions. The state of the masses 
 — of the multitudes — was what I loved to ob- 
 serve. 
 
 I liked to pursue my travels on foot. It was 
 my delight as a pedestrian to while away my 
 time among the green lanes and remotest vil- 
 lages of this lovely, dear England of ours. I 
 ought to have gone where the saints of the 
 earth go, to visit her smoking, mining dis- 
 tricts — those deserts of creation wide and wild, 
 where scarce a tree or living vegetable is to be 
 seen — where the whole of the country is one 
 grim, smoking furnace, like that of Sodom — 
 but I hated such scenes. Still less could I take 
 interest in the murky streets and among the toil-
 
 THE ROSE OF ASHURST. 13 
 
 ing, misguided, intelligent, dissatisfied population 
 of our dense manufacturing towns. Such places 
 were abhorrent to my taste — this was enough. To 
 visit them seemed no especial calling of mine. A 
 south countryman — it did not take the form of 
 an imperative duty, and I was far below that point 
 of moral advancement which finds a neighbour 
 and a calling wherever a man may be wanted or 
 of use. 
 
 These people were not neighbours of mine in 
 the ordinary sense of the word. I had no calling 
 their way, according to my notions ; so I indulged, 
 without the shadow of a scruple, my love for 
 desultory wandering in rural remote places — 
 my passion for green trees, green lanes, green 
 pastures, hedge-row tangles, and nestling vil- 
 lages ; and left without compunction, the smoke, 
 and the turmoil, and the puffing steam engines, 
 and the rattling machinery, and the blackened 
 artisans, to those much more truly benevolent 
 than I was. 
 
 Such had for some time been my easy man-
 
 14 THE ROSE OF ASHURST. 
 
 iier of life, when some incidents befel — such 
 as I scarcely deserved should happen to me, but 
 which served to awaken me from my indolent, 
 dreamy life of self-indulgence, to a more serious 
 view of existence, and the claims which society 
 has upon every one of its members. An expe- 
 rience which has been useful to myself, I have 
 thought may possibly prove so to others. And 
 this has led me to attempt the relation of a 
 very simple story of very simple people. At all 
 events, it is well to learn to love and value our 
 brother in the humbler walks of life — to find 
 the same human heart beating and yearning 
 under frieze as under velvet ; and to prove the 
 force of that universal kindred which links all 
 mankind together. 
 So to my story.
 
 THE ROSE OF ASHURST. 15 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 "Land-marks of life we find, bright spots starred round 
 The cycle of existence, which remind 
 Of shining shapes that crossed our path, of beams 
 Which shot athwart the gloom, flowers which sprang up. 
 Budded and bowed their heads before the sun, 
 And drank the dew-drops — green leaves in the crown 
 Of youth and hope." 
 
 John William Fletcher. 
 
 It was a busy scene. 
 
 The humming of children's voices, conning 
 their lessons, was like the droning sound of a 
 hive filled with industrious honey-bees, and it 
 harmonised, as does that pleasant music, with 
 the soft air, bright sun, quivering leaves, and 
 twittering birds, of a fine May afternoon.
 
 16 THE ROSE OF ASHURST. 
 
 It was a pretty little edifice, the simple 
 school-house, belonging to the rural village of 
 Ashurst, from which this softened music pro- 
 ceeded. A small mansion, built in a picturesque 
 style, with pointed gables, casement windows, 
 and a pretty rustic porch, over which grew a 
 somewhat straggling wild brier and honey- 
 suckle. Hard by stood two giant elms, with 
 their long dropping branches hanging like some 
 drapery over the little building ; around it spread 
 the soft turf, gently descending every way. On 
 one side it was separated by a hawthorn hedge 
 from the public road, along which the several 
 houses and gardens of the village lay scattered, 
 and to which it communicated by a wicket ; the 
 rest of the enclosure was surrounded by tall 
 thick hedges full of wild roses and white thorns, 
 which were all tangled over with traveller's joy, 
 their banks being enamelled with primroses and 
 violets. Beyond this, extended the far stretching 
 fields of a large farm. 
 
 I thought I had never seen a prettier village-
 
 THE ROSE OF ASHURST. 17 
 
 school; and, indeed, as I had strolled up it, I 
 thought I had never seen a prettier village. 
 
 It ran, as I said, along each side of the road, 
 but in no continuous street. It was almost 
 embosomed in the tall elms peculiar to that part 
 of the country, which, now in little bosquets of 
 two or three together, now standing alone, lofty 
 and wide-spreading in all the untouched magni- 
 ficence of nature, towered as if in protection 
 over the humble roofs and the numerous little 
 vegetable and flower gardens which, with their 
 trim hedges, adorned the place. The rooks 
 were cawing and circling among these splendid 
 trees, adding to the character of a scene which 
 certainly pleased me mightily. 
 
 I had spent the preceding days, according to 
 my usual fashion, wandering about the pleasant 
 rural country in the vicinity — a country flourish- 
 ing and fruitful, broken into swells and hills, the 
 hills most often crowned with woods, and the 
 valleys adorned by little pebbly brooks shooting 
 clear and crystal through them. At length, 
 
 VOL. I. C
 
 18 THE ROSE OF ASHURST. 
 
 this day, after losing my way amid oak woods 
 which seemed interminable, I had entered a 
 handsome park, whose spreading lawns and 
 giant trees, interspersed with those of younger 
 growth, were adorned with groups of crouching 
 deer, picturesque Scotch oxen, and hlack-nosed 
 South Downs — exhibiting all the beautiful va- 
 rieties of sun and shade, form and colour, which 
 in such scenes enchant the eye of the artist. 
 
 The sun at that time, an hour or tw^o past 
 meridian, threw a bright glowing light and deep- 
 ened shadow upon every object, and it was now 
 gleaming upon the fair front of a handsome 
 free-stone mansion, standing at a little distance. 
 The place was evidently one of some distinction. 
 It was surrounded by shrubberies and gardens, 
 and glimpses of the long line of fruit walls, with 
 the glittering glass of the houses, might be caught 
 from time to time through the trees : over which 
 shone the stable vane, and the pointed roof of 
 the ancient pigeon-house. In front of the house 
 a gently sloping lawn, green as emerald, de-
 
 THE ROSE OF ASHURST. 19 
 
 scended to a piece of water formed by one of 
 the sparkling streams of which I have spoken. 
 The little lake was shining like a mirror, and 
 was peopled with innumerable water-fowl, to 
 which the noble reeds growing on its banks 
 afforded shelter. The animal world, indeed, in 
 this place appeared to be in the full enjoyment 
 of an undisturbed existence — the house was 
 evidently at that time uninhabited, all the win- 
 dows w^ere closed, and not a human creature of 
 any description to be seen. 
 
 I lounged indolently along, admiring the 
 scene, and at the same time indulging, accord- 
 ing to my too common custom, in sundry use- 
 less meditations upon the abuse of things. I 
 thought, with no little indignation, what a pity 
 and what a shame it was that means so ample 
 for enjoyment, should be wasted through the 
 negligence, or indifference, or, worse perhaps, 
 improvidence, of the owners ; then after taking a 
 little excursion into the regions of socialism, I 
 returned to more cheerful thoughts, and con* 
 
 c 2
 
 20 THE ROSE OF ASHURST. 
 
 soled myself with the idea, that if the owners 
 were incapable or indifferent, many, and I among 
 the rest, could enjoy this noble scene ; so that it 
 might be doubted, if the whole of a country 
 were parcelled and hedged out into properties 
 of from one to thirty acres each, whether the sum 
 of human enjoyment and the means of human im- 
 provement would be increased ; and so I satisfied 
 myself, and indulged to the full in my share of 
 the pleasure thus procured to the world in general. 
 Sauntering about among the giant oaks and 
 elms — catching a thousand delicious pictures 
 of deer, whose branching, twittering horns were 
 flickering in the sun — of the oxen so peacefully 
 grazing in herds, of the sheep, the water, the 
 sky, and so on. I wandered from place to 
 place,, until I found myself at the other side of 
 the park, where a small gate gave entrance into 
 fields, a footpath through which had carried me 
 on and on, till at last it brought me to the 
 scattered village, through which you must now 
 think of me as strolling.
 
 THE ROSE OF ASHURST. ' 21 
 
 The cottages, as I have said, were scattered 
 up and down, half hidden among the trees and 
 hedges ; they were mostly very ancient. No 
 abominable red brick edifices were to be seen 
 staring impudently at me, to disturb my artist- 
 ical day-dream. There were little hummocks of 
 roofs, covered with moss and house-leek, heavy- 
 browed eaves, shading over little bright eyes of 
 casement windows, twinkling out from under 
 them — decrepid old porches, and doors leaning 
 all on one side. There were, moreover, some 
 cottages, or rather small houses, of more re- 
 spectable appearance, mingled among the rest. 
 These were chiefly in the old black and white 
 style of building, with all manner of peaks and 
 gables, some even with staircases and galleries 
 outside, all and every sort, however, embosomed 
 in that delicious greenth which is the despair of 
 the artist, and the ecstacy of the poet ; both of 
 which, in a small way, I was, or fancied myself 
 to be. I wandered on, till, mounting the road 
 as it slightly ascended, I found myself in front
 
 22 THE ROSE OF ASHURST. 
 
 of the pretty village school, and standing still, 
 listened to the pleasant hum, which, as I said, 
 proceeded from this hive of industry. 
 
 Oh ! how charming was that day. 
 
 What a bright, bright sun ! What a soft, 
 soft air ! wooingly stealing among the leaves, 
 and gently bending the overhanging branches of 
 the mighty elms. How sweetly the burst of 
 the blackbird's song came thrilling forth from 
 the copses hard by. How pleasant was the 
 rumble of the distant waggon ; and the voice of 
 the husbandman calling to his horses, as the 
 heavy jingle of a drilling machine was heard from 
 a neighbouring field. 
 
 I listened to the rural sounds with delight ; 
 but most of all, the pleasant music from the 
 school-house charmed me. I looked at the 
 pretty porch overhung with its garlands of wild 
 rose and honeysuckle, and tried to peep into the 
 little sanctuary ; but I could only catch glimpses 
 of small people within, through what, as I stood 
 in the bright sun, was a dim twilight to my eyes.
 
 THE ROSE OF ASHURST. 23 
 
 ' The wicket, however, stood temptingly before 
 me, the neat little gravel walk invited, and I 
 soon found myself slowly advancing towards the 
 porch. 
 
 There I stopped again, admiring the simple 
 grace of this little piece of rustic architecture, 
 entirely formed of peeled branches. At length I 
 took courage, entered it, and creeping noiselessly 
 to the door, looked in. 
 
 It was not a very large, but it was a lofty 
 room, judiciously contrived so as to admit as 
 much air as possible; no ceiling, but carried 
 right up to the roof- tree. The small paned 
 windows were placed rather high, so that the 
 attention of the httle students might not be dis- 
 tracted by external objects ; but at the end of a 
 projection nearly opposite to the entrance door, 
 another door, opening to the play-ground, 
 afforded an ample circulation of air. In short, 
 everything seemed to have been planned and 
 arranged with the view of securing an ample 
 supply of fresh air — that indispensable necessity,
 
 24 THE ROSE OF ASHURSTl 
 
 as concerns the health and well-being of man, 
 woman, and child. The faces of the small 
 multitude, as they sat in classes upon benches 
 rising row above row half-way to the roof, 
 showed that this judicious care had not been 
 taken in vain. 
 
 They looked as bonny a set of fine, healthy 
 children as ever were brought together in a well- 
 regulated school-room, to be taught all day and 
 learn little or nothing, as ever I saw assembled. 
 As my eye glanced over them, I caught many ai 
 soft and downcast face, and many a roguish 
 smile, that I would have delighted to sketch ; 
 but my attention was soon more particularly 
 attracted by two little ones, who sat close to- 
 gether upon the lowest bench, with their tiny 
 feet resting upon the floor. 
 
 The pair consisted of a boy and girl. The 
 girl might be between five and seven, the boy, 
 evidently younger, about four or five years old. 
 One was a very fair, the other a somewhat dark 
 child. Very dark was the hair of the girl, the
 
 THE ROSE OF ASHURST. 25 
 
 older child; the other, the younger, had fair 
 flaxen hair, the curls of which, as he leant his 
 head over his primer, half hid those great letters 
 which were accompanied with the alluring re- 
 presentations of an Apple for great A, and a 
 Bull for great B, intended to entice the infant 
 pilgrim through the paths of learning. The little 
 girl had hold of the other side of the book, 
 which was spread upon the knees of both 
 children, and she was bending over the younger 
 one, pointing, with the most lovely little fat 
 finger in the world, to the big letters, and re- 
 hearsing with the little boy his lesson, " A stands 
 for Apple — see, there it is ; C for Cat, look at 
 pussy ; D for Dog — Bow, wow, wow !" 
 
 And the little boy, looking and studying, and 
 rather puzzled to know what A and Apple, and 
 D and Dog, had to do with each other, and 
 finding it very easy to remember the picture, and 
 almost beyond his intellects to remember the 
 sign. But it mattered not ; his little instructress 
 seemed indefatigable, and never hfted her head
 
 26 THE ROSE OF ASHURST. 
 
 from her task, till her class was called up, and 
 it was time for her to say her own lesson. 
 
 And then, to my astonishment, instead of 
 taking her place with others of her size, I saw 
 my little friend among a group of girls twice her 
 age, and deliberately going up to the top of the 
 class. 
 
 Such a little neat figure as she was, too ! So 
 tidily and prettily dressed, with the pink-striped 
 frock she wore relieved by her white pinafore, 
 and a black riband which was tied round her 
 waist, from which depended a little bag to hold 
 her books. Her face was perfectly childish, with 
 all the round chubbiness of health and innocence, 
 and adorned with the little pug nose, the despair 
 of anxious parents, but the beauty of childhood 
 — lips like cherries, and little white pearls of 
 teeth. Something, perhaps, might be left to be 
 wished for in the contour of the lower part of the 
 face, which was somewhat too marked and 
 strong ; but this little defect was redeemed by a 
 forehead broad, pure, and clear, under which.
 
 THE ROSE OF ASHURST. 27 
 
 when the eyelids, usually bent downwards, were 
 lifted up, appeared two dark brown eyes — Oh, 
 such eyes ! 
 
 Surely never did infant face possess such 
 eyes ! Large, lustrous, soft, intelligent, full of 
 feeling, seriousness, and sense. 
 
 The simplicity, too, of every look and move- 
 ment enhanced the charm of all the rest ; and 
 simplicity is far from being the usual attribute 
 of childhood. We meet with children every 
 day, who may not think much of themselves, 
 because they are stupid, unobservant, and slow, 
 and think little of anything ; but genuine sim- 
 plicity is rare even among young ones. 
 
 Every motion of this little girl was so direct, 
 so straightforward, so prompt, so happy, as to 
 be singularly pleasing ; and yet, of all the re- 
 markable things about her, this charming sim- 
 plicity was the most remarkable. I was so de- 
 lighted with this little thing, that my eyes were 
 riveted upon her, and I stood there forgetting 
 where I was, watching her, and listening to the
 
 28 THE ROSE OF ASHURST. 
 
 prompt and correct answers she gave to ques- 
 tions which appeared above her years, and to 
 which the great heavy-looking girls about her 
 replied in the most blundering and stupid 
 manner. 
 
 When she had finished the lesson, and had 
 received her three good marks with a little smile 
 of comfortable satisfaction, she resumed her 
 place, and sat down again by the side of her 
 friend, the little boy. 
 
 And the two heads were once more bent 
 down over the Primer, with its giant letters, and 
 the accompanying pictures ; said pictures still 
 seeming sadly to divert the child's attention from 
 the learning which his companion was so anxi- 
 ously endeavouring to instil into him. 
 
 " Great B, you little goose — will you never 
 learn great B .?" 
 
 " B, buzZ'fly," and he began to imitate the 
 drone of a bee, the picture of which stood before 
 him. 
 
 " Oh ! you naughty little boy !" cried the
 
 THE ROSE OF ASHURST, 29 
 
 miniature instructress, laughing aloud ; " B 
 doesn't buzz." 
 
 The little fellow turned his head away and 
 looked at the open door, through which the sun 
 was glistening cheerfully, and the blue sky 
 shining, w^hilst the sound of a thrush merrily 
 whistling without, was to be heard. 
 
 And so he became aware of me, and bent 
 down and whispered to his companion. I saw 
 her urging him, as if to do something, but he 
 seemed unwilling. At last her persuasions ap- 
 peared to prove successful. He got up, crept wdth 
 a noiseless step across the floor, and approaching 
 the schoolmistress, whispered, but in a voice to 
 be heard over the whole school, "Missis, here's a 
 gentleman." 
 
 At that, all the bright, black, and blue, and 
 grey, and green eyes present were directed my 
 way, and there was a general sensation, as the 
 French call it, among the smock frocks and pina- 
 fores. 
 
 The school-mistress, a very gentle, delicate-
 
 30 THE ROSE OF ASHURST. 
 
 looking young woman, raised her eyes from the 
 class she was teaching, and in which business she 
 seemed for the moment completely absorbed, 
 and saying, " Quiet, children," in the quietest 
 tone in the world, but still in a manner which 
 was instantly obeyed, rose from her seat, and 
 came to the door. 
 
 " Would you please to be wanting anything, 
 sir?" 
 
 " Oh, no ! I beg your pardon, madam — I 
 hope I don't intrude, as the man says in the 
 play. I was attracted by the hum of the busy 
 bees, and ventured to approach a little nearer, 
 and I have been fascinated by the scene — they 
 are a nice-looking set of children." 
 
 *' Pretty well," she answered, with a smile 
 that had a pleasant little touch of malice in it. 
 " They look rather rough some of them ; but 
 what would you have ? They are good creatures 
 in the main." And she kept standing, as if she 
 expected I should take my departure ; but I 
 kept my ground.
 
 THE ROSE OF ASHURST. 31 
 
 " I see you want me to go ; but I think, when 
 you know who I am, you will let me stand here 
 and watch your proceedings a little longer. I 
 have a kind of a sort of a claim to the privilege, 
 for I am third, fourth, or thirtieth cousin to Lady 
 Vynour." 
 
 " Cousin to Lady Vynour ! Oh ! pray, sir, 
 stand there as long as you please — only, if you 
 would be so good as to keep a little out of sight 
 I should be much obliged to you, for the pre- 
 sence of a stranger disturbs the children. School 
 will be over in a quarter of an hour," added 
 she, glancing at the round face of the clock, 
 which, with its long dangling pendulum, was 
 clicking against the wall, "and then, if you 
 please, I can show you the school-room and all 
 about." 
 
 I retreated behind the honeysuckle which over- 
 shadowed the rustic porch, from which place of 
 concealment, half-buried, the leaves and flowers 
 which hung around tumbling against my face 
 in a delicious manner, I could still observe
 
 32 THE ROSE OF ASHURST. 
 
 what was going on in this small seminary of 
 learning. It was now the turn for the youngest 
 class to come up, and my little boy, who did not 
 seem to be nearly so apt a scholar as the girl, 
 came with a set of sturdy young rogues to 
 repeat his verses. 
 
 He was a sweet, beautiful child in his way, 
 which was different from that of his bright, 
 energetic friend. 
 
 His features were delicate, and his light hair, 
 which I have before spoken of, hung in thick 
 clustering curls, but arranged with a care which 
 showed they were the pride of some loving heart. 
 He looked perfectly healthy, but almost too re- 
 fined for a child of his age ; and, young as he 
 was, there was an expression, not to be mistaken, 
 of more than ordinary intellect and sensibility. 
 
 The black hair of his little friend, on the con- 
 trary, was cut short round her head, and added 
 to the spirit and ingenuity, the air of thotigkeit, 
 for I can think of no other word, which pervaded 
 her w^hole figure.
 
 THE ROSE OF ASHURST. 33 
 
 When it came to the little boy's turn to repeat 
 his verses, the voice was so low, that I could 
 not hear the words distinctly, but I observed 
 that, like his companion, his lesson seemed to 
 be the best said of the class, and the mistress 
 told him to go to the top ; which honour, blush- 
 ing, and hesitating, he with much modesty 
 received. 
 
 And now school was over, and the slates and 
 the books were to be collected and put away. 
 And my little girl was so busy, and so handy, 
 and so tidy, that it was quite amusing to watch 
 her. She took her own and her companion's 
 slates, with her copy-book, and returned them 
 to their places ; and then producing a neat 
 striped cotton bag, she deposited the books they 
 were to carry home in it ; then mounting the 
 benches, she took down her own neat bonnet 
 tied with dark blue ribbon, and her friend's 
 straw hat, both of which were of a superior 
 make and texture to those of the others. She 
 put the little boy's hat on first, afterwards tied 
 
 VOL. I. D
 
 34 THE ROSE OF ASHURST. 
 
 and adjusted her own bonnet, and then the hands 
 of the two friends were clasped together, and 
 jumping down the benches with eyes bright with 
 pleasure, and faces radiant with smiles, the little 
 creatures passed me, and made their way down 
 the gravelled pathway that led to the gate. 
 
 There were between twenty and thirty other 
 children that followed, but I noticed no one of 
 them in particular ; I cared only for my two 
 favourites, for whom I felt a foolish, unaccount- 
 able interest. 
 
 An artist's interest ! A heartless artist's in- 
 terest more than anything else, I fear. They 
 reminded me so much of a picture I had seen 
 of Gainsborough's. They were such picturesque 
 children. The boy so beautiful, the girl so 
 striking ; brother and sister, of course, and yet 
 not resembling each other in the least. 
 
 Curtseys and bows were bobbed as the joyous 
 crowd hurried by, and no sooner were the sacred 
 precincts of order and propriety passed, and the 
 gate shut behind them, than the shout, and the
 
 THE ROSE OF ASHURST. 35 
 
 scuffle, and the leap-frog, and the mock fight, 
 and all the noise and confusion of a set of happy, 
 healthy children, their spirits wholesomely excited 
 by the previous constraint, was heard. 
 
 I turned to the school-room, where the gentle 
 mistress was slowly arranging what was left to 
 be arranged, doing this with a certain languor, 
 as if a good deal fatigued by the labour of the 
 day. 
 
 " Let me help you," I said, as she was lifting 
 up a heap of books in order to arrange them 
 upon their proper shelves. 
 
 "Thank you — no, if you please. — I would 
 rather not, but if you wish to look round the 
 school-room, sir, — pray do — it will not take 
 long. We owe it all to Lady Vynour, that is 
 to say, we owe it to her ladyship — that the 
 school-room is so lofty, and so wholesome, and 
 so airy, and so well warmed in winter too. You 
 see, sir," she went on, having arranged her 
 books, and now looking around her with an 
 air of satisfaction, " how well the windows are 
 
 D 2
 
 36 THE ROSE OE ASHURST. 
 
 placed for the purposes of ventilation, and the 
 roof not ceiled, but carried as high as it can be — 
 So light and so pleasing to the eye ! If you had 
 but seen the old school room, and had but felt 
 how close it was,- — so low, so gloomy, — such 
 an oppressive stifling air when the children had 
 been in it for a little time — you would understand 
 the difference. Poor things ! I don't wonder ■ 
 they were stupid, and heavy, and sleepy, and 
 always making excuses for staying away from 
 school... But all that is changed now. — I think," 
 she went on, as, after having walked round and 
 inspected this pretty introductory gateway to the 
 temple of fame, we stood before it — I, linger- 
 ing to revel once more in the delicious perfume 
 of the honeysuckle, and to gaze upon the glow 
 which a sinking sun now threw upon every ob- 
 ject, and she, to lock the school-room door — 
 
 " I think, people are apt to forget how indis- 
 pensable light and air are to children, and their 
 exquisite enjoyment of the beautiful — taste for, 
 I was going to say; but I do not know that
 
 THE ROSE OF ASHURST. 37 
 
 they have much taste for it, but they certainly 
 have an exquisite sense of the beautiful, — that 
 is, according to their ideas of what constitutes it, 
 and that is the great matter." 
 
 I was surprised to hear the mistress of a little 
 village school express herself in this manner ; 
 she spoke, too, with the utmost simplicity ; 
 there was not the slightest touch about her of 
 the scholastic pedantry, too common in those of 
 her calling. So, as she went down the path, I 
 accompanied her, and did not leave her even 
 when the little wicket was closed and locked 
 behind us ; and she proceeded along the cause- 
 way on the side of the road leading towards the 
 village. 
 
 And as we walked, this was our discourse. It 
 began with my saying — " I think you are quite 
 right in what you say ; I am very glad my 
 thirtieth cousin. Lady Vynour, is of your way 
 of thinking. You make no mention of Sir 
 Horace, though ; I suppose he is full of other
 
 38 THE ROSE OF ASHURST. 
 
 things, and leaves all this to my Lady ; — rather 
 a rough diamond, Sir Horac?, eh ?" 
 
 " I have only seen him once or twice in my 
 life. He is a very handsome gentleman, though 
 somewhat stout." 
 
 " And rough ?" 
 
 " I don't know, sir. He seemed very kind 
 and pleasant when I saw him." 
 
 " And my Lady ?" 
 
 " Oh, my Lady ;" and her tone betrayed much 
 feeling ; *' she is — she is — an angel, — only one's 
 ashamed to use the word angel — everybody calls 
 everybody an angel ; but you know her, sir, 
 yourself?" 
 
 " I can't say that I can exactly say that — b it 
 don't think me an impostor upon that' account, 
 for I really am her cousin... and so she's a nice 
 sort of woman ?" 
 
 " Sir !" and she stopped and looked at me, as 
 if I had said something quite shocking. 
 
 Then turning away and walking on, she mut-
 
 THE ROSE OF ASHURST. 39 
 
 tered to herself — " If ever there was a perfect 
 creature upon earth, it is she." 
 
 " She is very beautiful, I suppose ?" 
 
 " No, sir, she is not at all what is usually 
 called beautiful. Some people, I believe, think 
 her quite plain — but they don't know her as we 
 do — oh ! they don't know her as we do." 
 
 " Is she at the Hall at present ?" 
 
 " No, sir, she is in London."
 
 40 THE ROSE OF ASHURST. 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 " Dear lovely bowers of innocence and ease, 
 Seats of my youth, when every sport could please. 
 .... The sheltered cot, the cultivated farm. 
 The never failing brook, the busy mill. 
 The decent church that topt the neighbouring hill, 
 The hawthorn bush, with seats beneath the shade." 
 
 Goldsmith. 
 
 "There were two remarkably interesting 
 little children among your flock," I went on, 
 changing the subject of conversation. " They 
 don't seem exactly to belong to the same class 
 as the majority of your scholars. Pray who 
 and what are they ? The little girl and boy I 
 mean, who sat close together upon the lower 
 bench near the door."
 
 THE ROSE OF ASHURST. 41 
 
 *' Oh, sir, I know very well whom you mean." 
 
 "Who and what are they, and how came 
 they here ?" 
 
 " Why, sir, their friends are very respectable 
 indeed, but they are not rich. They could not 
 afford if they wished — and I doubt whether 
 they would wish — to send them to a distant 
 school ; and there is none near better than this. 
 They have not the means of giving their little 
 creatures instruction at home, and they think, 
 and I agree 'with them, that young children do 
 better, employed and kept in order during a 
 regular portion of each day, than suffered to run 
 about, week after week, doing nothing — and that 
 they will not be the worse in after-life for having 
 begun in a humble village school." 
 
 " Brother and sister, of course, though not in 
 the least like each other." 
 
 " No, sir ; not in any degree related." 
 
 " They seem great friends." 
 
 "They are a perfect miniature picture of 
 friendship, such as we read of in books. Da-
 
 42 THE ROSE OF ASHURST. 
 
 mon and Pythias, Roland and Oliver, are no- 
 thing to them — and so exactly suited to each 
 other too !" 
 
 "The little girl seems to assume the usual 
 privilege of her sex, and to lord it to a certain 
 degree over the nobler gender." 
 
 " Nothing of the sort, sir. It is only the 
 natural ascendancy of sense and activity over 
 thought and genius — it is only apparent. Be- 
 sides, you must recollect that the little girl is, in 
 fact, two years older than the boy, which at that 
 age counts for a score. Only think of two years' 
 experience more or less, between four and seven ; 
 it is two ages." 
 
 " What a charming little thing she looks, 
 and so apt and clever." 
 
 " I never saw a young child like her. If you 
 were only to see her with her grandmother !" 
 
 " Has she no mother, then ?" 
 
 " Neither father nor mother. She lives with 
 her grandmother . . . ." 
 
 " Stop a moment, sir, if you please. Just look
 
 THE ROSE OF ASHURST. 43 
 
 across the clover field, there — standing in that lit- 
 tle tuft of green trees. Do you see the black and 
 white gables peeping from among the willows ?" 
 
 " Is that the house ?" 
 
 " Oh, sir ! it is very small, but it is so pretty." 
 
 " And who is this grandmother, who keeps 
 her house so neat and pretty, and brings up 
 such a charming little grandchild ? Is she a 
 gentlewoman ?" 
 
 " I don't know exactly what is meant by 
 that. If you mean a gentlewoman born, I be- 
 lieve not. If you mean that she has the man- 
 ners and ways of a gentlewoman, those she has, 
 and ever will have. I have heard that her 
 father was a tradesman, but she is a very aged 
 person ; and we fancy here — I don't know whe- 
 ther rightly or not — that when she was young, 
 tradespeople were not quite looked upon in the 
 light they are now. I believe, at least, they 
 looked upon themselves with perfect self-respect. 
 They admitted the difference of ranks — they 
 never strove for, nor expected to be received,
 
 44 THE ROSE OF ASHURST. 
 
 into the society of what were called the gentry — 
 the gentry, you know, were real gentry in those 
 days — they were satisfied with their own condi- 
 tion ; they dwelt among their own people. 
 There was much simple dignity in the attitude 
 they assumed. All this has passed away now. 
 It is better, I suppose, and it is worse, — but so 
 it is. I have heard my mother, who remem- 
 bered those days as a child, often speak of these 
 changes in things." 
 
 " And so the old grandmother is considered, 
 to a certain degree, as a gentlewoman ?" 
 
 "Among us in this village she is." 
 
 " You are a very happy people in my opinion, 
 if you have contrived to preserve so much of 
 the antique simplicity as to class people by what 
 they are, rather than by what they have. Have 
 you no rich millionaires among you, to make a 
 dash, and vulgarise your taste ?" 
 
 " There are Mr. Johns and Mr. Thomas, the 
 two rich farmers, sir." 
 
 " Oh ! oh ! it's coming, then — beware."
 
 THE ROSE OF ASHURST. 45 
 
 " No, sir, I hope not ; I should be sorry to 
 see much of a change." 
 
 " To return to the grandmother. You see I 
 love to dignify her with the name of grand- 
 mother ; it belongs to her day. We shall hear 
 of nobody proud of being called grandmother 
 soon. She is a widow, I conclude. These sort 
 of women always are widows. To a faithful 
 woman's heart it is the deep baptism of sorrow. 
 She comes out the better for it." 
 
 " Yes, sir, she is a widow." 
 
 " And what was her husband ?" 
 
 *' In the army, sir," 
 
 *' An officer ?" 
 
 " Only what, I believe, they call a non-com- 
 missioned officer. He was a Serjeant, sir. He 
 had got all the stripes ; everything that good 
 conduct could obtain he had got. They talked, I 
 believe, of giving him a commission, when he fell 
 in the ditch, in some very famous siege in India, 
 where his regiment obtained great honour. They 
 gave his widow a lieutenant's widow's pension,
 
 46 THE ROSE OF ASHURST. 
 
 and that she lives upon, and a little her father 
 left her." 
 
 " What regiment ? what siege ?'* 
 
 " I am ashamed to say, I cannot exactly tell 
 you, sir ; but if you were to ask the little girl or 
 the little boy, they would answer you in a 
 moment." 
 
 " And the boy — what is he ?" 
 
 " This is my home. Good evening, sir." 
 
 And she stopped at a little white gate, lead- 
 ing into a pretty garden hedged round with 
 hawthorn, now in flow^er, and sw^eet brier to be 
 in flower, and took her leave abruptly. She 
 seemed to be a discreet young woman, and 
 perhaps thought she had been communicative 
 enough to a perfect stranger. 
 
 So I was left in the dark as to the ancestry 
 of the little boy. 
 
 What would I do next ? 
 
 The young schoolmistress had told me that 
 Lady Vynour was not at the Hall, and even if 
 she had been at the Hall, I was in some doubt
 
 THE ROSE OF ASHURST. 47 
 
 whether to introduce myself or not. For 
 thirtieth — indeed, you may read third or fourth 
 cousin one remove — or something of that 
 nature ; yet I did not know whether she would 
 care to make the acquaintance of an idle, vagrant, 
 walking gentleman like myself, even though I 
 did carry a letter of introduction to her in my 
 pocket. 
 
 However, she was not at home, so there was 
 an end to that scheme, and I certainly was not 
 going to beg bed and board, even for a single 
 night, from her servants. And yet my fancy 
 lingered about the place. I wanted to see and 
 hear more about Ellen — that was the name she 
 went by in the family — and of her husband, not 
 unknown to fame as Sir Horace Vynour, — as a 
 brave, rough, naval officer, one of the few last 
 remaining types' of what naval officers were, or 
 aifected to be, in years gone by. Then the 
 Hall had a certain celebrity. Perhaps, because 
 lying in such a secluded, out-of-the-way part of 
 the country nobody knew anything about it ;
 
 48 THE ROSE OF ASHURST. 
 
 and, therefore, the report's of its old-fashioned 
 gardens, its wild woods, its queer, ancient rooms, 
 and so forth, were exaggerated on all sides, and 
 contradicted upon none. Certain it is, I had, 
 ever since I w^as quite a boy, longed to see Ash- 
 urst Hall. 
 
 I strolled down the road irresolute, when, as 
 I advanced, it suddenly opened upon a small 
 village-green, surrounded upon all sides by cot- 
 tages, some few of which deserved the name of 
 houses. Upon the turf grew two or three mag- 
 nificent elms, the growth of ages, and round 
 their hoar and gnarled trunks were benches, 
 upon which old men were to be seen sitting 
 enjoying the delicious evening, and also neatly- 
 dressed young wives, who were working at their 
 needles, with their children romping and playing, 
 and making a most joyous noise upon the grass 
 around them. ^ 
 
 Exactly in front, as you entered the green, 
 stood a lofty pole, with a projecting arm, from 
 which hung, dangling and displaying its splen-
 
 THE ROSE OF ASHURST. 49 
 
 dour to the sun, a very handsomely-painted sign 
 of King Charles in the oak-tree — said oak-tree 
 being larger, and thicker, and greener than ever 
 was oak-tree before ; but, in spite of all its 
 abundant foliage, utterly incapable of covering 
 the figure of his most gracious Majesty, who, 
 twice as large as life, and arrayed in the bright- 
 est scarlet and gold, displayed a most prominent 
 figure to the eyes of the pursuing enemy. 
 
 Beneath this gorgeous sign twinkled, with a 
 sort of pleasant humility, the two bow-windows 
 of the unassuming, but most enticing-looking, 
 little inn. It also was overshadowed by two 
 other of those enormous elms, the glory of this 
 part of the country, whose lowest branches 
 towered too high to obscure anything but the 
 very summit of the roof, the line of which they 
 pleasantly broke, and mingled with the chim- 
 neys, from one of which the blue reek rose into 
 the evening air, giving earnest of good things 
 going on. 
 
 This little inn was surrounded by a garden 
 
 VOL. I. E
 
 50 THE ROSE OF ASHURST. 
 
 which stretched far away behind, and was ap- 
 parently full of apple and pear trees, gooseber- 
 ries and currants, and stored with a prodigious 
 abundance of vegetables of all descriptions. The 
 garden was fenced in from the road, separated 
 by neat white railings, not one single rail of 
 which was out of order. The fence was carried 
 up upon each side the door to the house, leaving 
 a pretty broad gravelled pathway by which to 
 approach, but enclosing the bow-windows upon 
 either side, — they opening into the little front 
 garden. This garden was, in summer, gorgeous 
 as an old brocade, with sunflowers, nasturtiums, 
 larkspurs, sweet-peas, and rockets. It was now 
 filled with less showy, but sweet and various 
 spring flowers, and looked so flourishing, abun- 
 dant, and gay, that it was extremely pretty, 
 though not quite such a feast as in its summer 
 dress, to an eye like mine, childish enough to 
 prefer a great rich mass of colour to anything 
 else to be seen in a garden. 
 
 Sterne remarks, that such accidents as befell
 
 THE ROSE OF ASHURST. 51 
 
 him never happen except to the sentimental 
 traveller. I verily believe villages, like the one 
 I am describing, never come in the way of any 
 but of walking artists without art — such as I 
 profess myself to be. 
 
 What traveller could resist such an inn ? I 
 am sure I could not. My plan was at once 
 decided. I would call in, order ray bed, and 
 spend this glorious evening enjoying the beauties 
 of Ashurst Hall. 
 
 So to the inn I went, and was received by a 
 diminutive woman with the pleasantest face in 
 the world, the brightest, briskest eyes, like those 
 of a mouse or squirrel, and features, in short, 
 that only wanted to be magnified to be beau- 
 tiful. She was dressed with a neatness and 
 precision that would have been perhaps rather 
 too stiff, had not the whole been so character- 
 istic. She ushered me into one of the bow- 
 windowed parlours above mentioned, the pos- 
 session of which I had already coveted, flung 
 open a glass door which led by a few steps 
 
 E 2 
 
 LIBRARY 
 
 UNIVERSITY OF ILLtJtlS
 
 52 THE ROSE OF ASHURST. 
 
 into the garden, and then, turning round, asked 
 me " what I would be pleased to have ?'* 
 
 "A glass of porter, if they had any good, 
 and a crust of bread for the present ; and a 
 good bed and airy room^ with a roasted fowl for 
 my supper by-and-by." 
 
 " Wouldn't I like to choose my bed ?" 
 " I dare say all your beds are good, 
 Mrs, " 
 
 " Tilley, sir — at your service. You had better 
 see your bed, if you please. Would you like 
 the room over this ? It is vacant." 
 
 " I can't do better, as it seems to me." 
 
 " Please just step up, sir, and see if it is to 
 your liking, for we have others." 
 
 I was all obedience. 
 
 And so up stairs of oak, or stained oak, it 
 was alike to me, which were shining like a 
 looking-glass, but at which, nevertheless, a fine 
 stout lass was scrubbing with all her might — the 
 shppery oak being crossed by a slip of bright 
 crimson drugget stair-carpet— I followed my brisk
 
 THE ROSE OF ASHURST. 53 
 
 little landlady, who, having arrived at the top, 
 flung open a door with an air of '' Will you 
 like that ?" 
 
 I might well like that. 
 
 Such a sweet pretty room ! — pretty in its 
 simplicity, in its absence of all pretension — but 
 such a darling of a room ! The four-post bed 
 had, of course, white curtains, but they were 
 set off by such a neat little painted cornice of 
 roses and blue convolvuluses ! The paper was 
 a cheap one, but of such a pretty device and 
 colour ! The floor-cloth, with its soft green 
 foreground, strewn over with tiny brown leaves 
 so appropriate ! The window-curtains so nicely 
 hung, and the same dainty little cornice round 
 the bow. A beau-pot, upon a small antique chest 
 of drawers, elaborate with brass locks and han- 
 dles, and shining Hke gold, was full of polyan- 
 thuses and blue squills. No perfume from the 
 flowers ; but the room was perfectly redolent of 
 lavender, and the snow-white covering of the 
 bed had dried rose-leaves strewed over it. The
 
 54 THE ROSE OF ASHURST. 
 
 little washing-stand, the tin bath, the bit of oil- 
 cloth, were all complete. There was everything 
 for use and beauty united — to satisfy taste and 
 insure comfort. 
 
 A picture of the j oiliest of hosts hung over 
 the fire-place, which was filled with a bouquet 
 composed of green branches, lilacs, laburnums, 
 and a fine double crimson peony as big as a 
 man's face. 
 
 " Well, this is a charming room." 
 " I thought you would like it, sir : most gen- 
 tlemen do — angling gentlemen in particular. 
 May I make bold — are you an angler, sir ?" 
 
 " I have not the honour to be a brother of 
 the gentle craft." 
 
 " I am sorry for that — I do so like anglers." 
 " But I am a gentleman walking in search of 
 the picturesque : will not that do as well ?" 
 " Oh, sir ! to be sure. I beg pardon." 
 " And who may that be, hanging over the 
 chimney-piece ?" I said, after having duly exa- 
 mined and admired my room.
 
 THE ROSE OF ASHURST. 55 
 
 " That is my husband, sir." 
 
 " Your husband ! Why, it is Garagantua mar- 
 ried to Queen Mab.'* 
 
 She looked as if she did not know whether 
 to be half offended or not. 
 
 " He is the best of husbands, sir, to me." 
 
 " I doubt it not — I doubt it not : he must 
 be a very different man from what he looks — ■ 
 a very different man from every other man in 
 the world, / think, if he were not." 
 
 She coloured a little, and turned to lead down 
 stairs again, saying, — 
 
 " I don't pretend to know much about what 
 other men may be ; but I know Mr. Tilley is 
 as genuine an article as ever came into the 
 market," 
 
 Having settled these matters to my satisfac- 
 tion, the next thing was, how to dispose of my- 
 self for the remainder of the day. 
 
 I had a great wish to visit the Hall. I had 
 heard so much of Ellen and her husband in the 
 course of family gossip, that I longed to see
 
 56 THE ROSE OF ASHURST. 
 
 what sort of a place they inhabited ; so I turned 
 to Mrs. Tilley, and asked whether the Hall and 
 its gardens were allowed to be seen when the 
 family was away. 
 
 " Not usually," she said ; " but if she gave 
 me a line to Job, the gardener, he would show 
 them to me." 
 
 " Is he authorised so to do ?" I asked ; for I 
 have very determined ideas as to tampering 
 with the consciences of servants, who appear to 
 me to live in the very element of temptation. 
 
 " Yes," she answered ; " Job has leave to 
 show the place to people properly recommended. 
 Catch Job shewing a yard of it if he had not." 
 
 She gave me the necessary credentials, and 
 off I went. 
 
 I turned at right angles from the inn, as 
 Mrs. Tilley directed me to do, and soon found 
 myself in one of those deep lanes which are 
 especial favourites of mine. 
 
 The banks rose high upon either side, covered 
 with mossy grass and innumerable wild flowers
 
 THE ROSE OF ASHURST. 57 
 
 ■ — a perfect tapestry it was of violets and wild 
 strawberries, which peeped out and raised their 
 elegant spires of bloonn and bud, with the 
 crimson berries, many of them now ripe, inter- 
 mingled. 
 
 A clear coursing stream ran down the side 
 of the road — its edges, perfectly blue with the 
 marsh forget-me-not — that queen of the tribe 
 to be found in some damp places, were a perfect 
 garden of azure flowers. 
 
 This lane gently descended towards the plain 
 below, where the Hall was situated ; and beneath 
 the overshooting branches of oak and elm arch- 
 ing over-head, glimpses of this rich plain thus 
 beautifully framed might be seen. 
 
 I was in a perfect rapture of delight, and was 
 about to take out my materials and attempt a 
 despairing sketch, when, creeping about among 
 the grass and flowers of the high banks, and 
 busily engaged searching for strawberries, I dis- 
 cerned my two little children. 
 
 The girl had her straw bonnet ofl", and her
 
 58 THE HOSE OF ASHURST. 
 
 dark, round head, and her ripe, brown face, were 
 exposed to the sun. The bonnet was neatly 
 lined with fresh green leaves, and already half 
 filled with strawberries, which, — as I watched 
 them unobserved behind a bush of eglantine — 
 indeed, they were too busy to notice me, — were 
 carefully gathered and deposited in this primitive 
 basket, not one single strawberry finding its way 
 to either little mouth. 
 
 The two looked so pretty ! Like the babes in 
 the wood, nestling upon their knees, so busily 
 engaged. Two little cherub faces — two pair of 
 little, chubby, innocent hands, mingling with the 
 white, and blue, and yellow flowers, and the soft 
 green mosses with which the bank was em- 
 broidered. The little boy, I found, carried a 
 small box in his pocket, which he every now 
 and then produced ; and the ribbon of his hat 
 was all garlanded round with different sorts of 
 grasses in flower. 
 
 " Oh, oh !'* I heard him cry; " come here, 
 Amy ; here's a hole, and I saw a bee go in. It
 
 THE ROSE OF ASHURST. 59 
 
 had a bit of scarlet poppy-leaf in its bill — Oh, 
 if it should be a tapestry bee !" 
 
 " Its bill ! foolish boy ;" and she laughed 
 heartily. " Bees haven't bills hke birds." 
 
 " They have something very like bills," an- 
 swered the little one, with the gravity of a 
 young professor. " You may call them mouths 
 if you please — bills are mouths — But a bee's bill 
 and a goatsucker's bill are as like as can be, 
 only one is little and the other big." 
 
 " Goatsucker ! What's a goatsucker ?" 
 
 " Don't you know a goatsucker ? — why, the 
 bird that spins in the evening — Did you never 
 see one ?" 
 
 " Bird that spins, silly boy ! why, what are 
 you talking of? — Bird that spins ! I never heard 
 of such a thing." 
 
 " I didn't mean spins a thread ; but makes 
 noises like a spinning-wheel. It's a very pretty 
 noise, and mamma told me it was a bird ; and 
 I once saw the bird fly away — It was like a 
 hawk. But papa showed me its bill, gaping
 
 60 THE ROSE OF ASHURST. 
 
 wide like a bee's bill, and said it was not a 
 proper hawk, and no more it was. — Ah ! there 
 goes another bee into the hole. Do let us 
 poke it." 
 
 " You would be stung, foolish boy ; you are 
 always thinking about bees and things. You'd 
 better mind your business, and get strawber- 
 ries." 
 
 " Bees and things are so curious," said the 
 little man. 
 
 " But strawberries are so good, and grand- 
 mamma loves them so — and if you will be 
 industrious, there will be enough for your 
 mamma too." 
 
 The little boy cast a wistful glance towards 
 the tuft of branching green and golden moss 
 where the bee had made its hole, but, obedient 
 to his companion's voice, he again set himself to 
 gather strawberries, though from time to time 
 I could observe his eyes turning to the place." 
 
 " Ah ! there's another," at last he cried, 
 " and another bit of poppy-leaf in its bill "
 
 THE ROSE OF ASHURST. 61 
 
 " Mouth." 
 
 " I choose to call it bill," said the young na- 
 turalist. — I found that here he considered him- 
 self in his own province, and was not to be 
 guided. — *' I'd give strawberries," extending his 
 little arms, " and all I had in the world, to see 
 the home of a tapestry bee." 
 
 " And all the mammas, and papas, and 
 grandmammas in the world, if you could, I 
 s'pose," added the httle girl. 
 
 " No, not mamma and papa, but my box, 
 and my picture-book, and all I ever had in the 
 world. A tapestry bee ! — mamma told me 
 about them last Sunday ; all their house hung 
 with red curtains, she said, made of poppy- 
 leaves — so beautiful." 
 
 *' Come away, now, pray do, for Job won't 
 be pleased if we are late ; and he promised us 
 twenty hobgoblin strawberries if we brought a 
 pint of wild ones ; and we've more than that." 
 
 Hand in hand down the lane they went, and 
 I issued from my hiding-place.
 
 62 THE ROSE OF ASHURST. 
 
 " Oh ! here is the gentleman," cried the 
 little boy, " I do believe it's the same." 
 
 " Hush ! stand out of the gentleman's way," 
 said the little girl in a half whisper ; and the 
 two wee things ranged themselves upon one 
 side, to let me pass. They looked more than 
 ever like a group for a Gainsborough, standing 
 hand in hand, the little girl with her eyes 
 modestly bent to the ground, the boy with his 
 great blue ones staring full at me. 
 
 I stopped. " And what are your names, 
 little children ?" I said. 
 
 " He's Fabian Lewis, if you please," said the 
 little girl, answering for both, but still keeping 
 her eyes bent modestly downwards, and dropping 
 a little curtsey as she spoke, " and I'm Amy 
 Grant." 
 
 " And where do you live ?" 
 
 '' At Ashurst, if you please." 
 
 '* Oh, yes ; I saw your grandmamma's, Mrs. 
 Grant's, house to-day, as I came down the vil- 
 lage. Amy, you live with her?"
 
 THE ROSE OF ASHURST. 63 
 
 " Yes," said the boy, pushing forward, " she 
 lives with her, because her father was a sergeant 
 in the glorious 76th, and he died in the great 
 siege of G " 
 
 " What do you know about sieges ? What 
 is a siege, my young man ?" 
 
 " I don't know — but Amy's father was a 
 sergeant in the glorious 76 th, and he died at 
 
 the great siege of G " he repeated, with his 
 
 face all in a glow ; whilst on hers, which was 
 bent down upon her bosom, the colour rose 
 almost to the temples. 
 
 " You have reason to be proud," I said, laying 
 my hand upon the dark head. 
 
 She made no answer, but by a glance full in 
 my face, with her large dark eyes, which spoke 
 volumes, and an expression in them which 
 astonished me in so young a child ; then the 
 eyelids fell again, and she remained looking 
 quiet and modest as before. 
 
 I was quite affected. 
 
 " And who are you, my httle man ?" I asked.
 
 64 THE ROSE OF ASHURST. 
 
 " who feel so warmly for the glory of your 
 friend, Amy's father ? Who are you ? have you 
 got a father too ? 
 
 It was now the girl's turn. 
 
 " His papa ! oh ! he's such a clever man." 
 
 The little boy's face glowed with honest pride. 
 
 What sensibility, I thought. Is it possible 
 little children of this age can be alive to such 
 feelings ? — I have learned since, that children 
 equally young are, though rarely to be found, 
 quite as alive to the noble sense of glory. 
 
 " And this clever man ? Is he a soldier too ?" 
 
 " No, sir, if you please, he's a doctor." 
 
 " Dr. Lewis, is he called ?" 
 
 *' No, sir, he's called Mr. Lewis." 
 
 " And where does he live ?" 
 
 '' He lives in the street, and he's got such a 
 grand shop. It's all full of glass things, and 
 there's birds in cases, too, in the parlour..." 
 
 " And there's a skeleton and a crocodile some- 
 where," put in the little boy with energy. 
 
 " Why, what a great man your father must
 
 THE ROSE OF ASHURST. 65 
 
 be. — Is he very proud of all these fine 
 things ?" 
 
 " No, he's not proud at all," murmured the 
 little girl ; " he's very kind to everybody, and 
 he does grandmamma such good !" 
 
 " I should like to know both Fabian's clever 
 papa and Amy's grandmamma. But where are 
 you both going to now ?" 
 
 " We're going to see Job, if you please." 
 
 " Who's Job ?" 
 
 " He's the gardener at the Hall, and a very 
 great friend of Fabian and me." 
 
 " Well, I believe Tve got a letter for Job, 
 and I am going to see him too. Shall we walk 
 together ? and then you can show me the way." 
 
 With all the engaging confidence and sim- 
 plicity of early childhood, a httle hand was put 
 into each of mine, and we three set out toge- 
 ther, already the best friends in the world. 
 
 VOL. I.
 
 66 THE ROSE OF ASHURST. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 " .... Ye flowers and plants ! from your bright faces, 
 Blossoming light and joy, ye give to us 
 And take impresses of a deeper tone, 
 Indwelling drawn, not from our hfe, but yours." 
 
 Man in Paradise — John Edmund Reade. 
 
 We had a pleasant walk between the 
 banks of the cool green lane, where the sand, 
 in all variety of tints, from warm brown, 
 through golden yellow, to silver white, kept 
 cropping out between low knots of underwood, 
 leafy tufts and flowers, and waving grasses. 
 
 My little companions seemed soon quite at 
 home with me, and prattled cheerfully as we 
 went alonff.
 
 THE ROSE OF ASHURST. 67 
 
 I thought I never had a pleasanter walk in my 
 life. 
 
 I do love nice little children — almost as 
 much, I was about to say, but that would be 
 an exaggeration — as I abhor ill-managed, rude 
 little diminutives of the cub order. 
 
 Our way did not lead us across the park, 
 something to my disappointment. I wanted to 
 expatiate under those lofty trees, and among 
 those green velvet lawns that looked so tempting 
 this fine evening ; but I found my little friends 
 were not in the habit of proceeding through the 
 great gates ; we passed them, and followed the 
 windings of the lane which led to that wilderness 
 of heterogeneous things — that true representa- 
 tion of the cords and pulleys of material life, 
 — the back of extensive gardens. 
 
 We made our way in silence, among heaps of 
 compost, pits filled with leaves, unsightly sheds, 
 pumps, tools, and gardeners pushing wheelbar- 
 rows before them; whilst my little children seemed 
 to look about in vain for their friend Job. 
 
 F 2
 
 68 THE ROSE OF ASHURST. 
 
 I did not particularly like my situation — intro- 
 duced there by two little stranger children only, 
 I thought the men looked at me in an imperti- 
 nent sort of manner, as much as to ask what 
 business had I there ; and it is a weakness of 
 mine to be particularly susceptible to, and easily 
 cowed by, the impertinent. 
 
 However, we met with no positive interrup- 
 tion till the children approached a round- topped 
 green door in the wall, when a man, who 
 was coming out, first glancing at the children, 
 whom he seemed to know, and then at me, 
 civilly enough took off his hat, and asked me 
 what I was in search of. 
 
 I said I had a letter from Mrs. Tilley, at the 
 Charles in the Oak Tree, for Job, who I believed 
 was one of the head gardeners ; I wished to be 
 allowed to see the gardens. These two children 
 had been coming to visit the same person, and 
 had shown me the way. 
 
 The man gave a glance at the children, as 
 much as to say " all right," and said if I
 
 THE ROSE OF ASHURST. 69 
 
 would go through that door we should find Job 
 in the houses. 
 
 So we entered the really magnificent garden 
 which lay within the walls. 
 
 There are few things charm me more than 
 one of these splendid old-fashioned kitchen gar- 
 dens. This one was really a magnificent spe- 
 cimen of the sort. The walls extended far on 
 every side ; the glass of a long line of houses 
 was sparkling in the evening sun ; the windows 
 mostly open, and displaying the riches within — 
 grapes, pines, peaches, and costly flowers of 
 every form and hue. The rest of the walls 
 were covered with fruit trees trained in the 
 finest order, and loaded with fruit ; the cherry 
 and the currant trees, which ran spirally between 
 them, were already tinting with their various 
 reds and crimsons, the wall fruits were still green. 
 
 The garden was laid out in broad, smooth, 
 gravel walks, edged with trim box, and bor- 
 dered by beds filled with all sorts of flowers, ii 
 abundance. Standard fruit trees were symme-
 
 70 THE ROSE OF ASHURST. 
 
 trically arranged between the flowers and the 
 vegetables of every description, which were 
 growing in a most delightful profusion. 
 
 I think I have seen many larger gardens, but 
 I think I never saw one so perfectly kept as 
 this ; so rich in beauty of every description. 
 
 It did great credit to those w^ho had the ma- 
 nagement of it. 
 
 I began to fear that I should find the head 
 gardener a regular gentleman of the improved 
 school — as great a disappointment, to me, as was, 
 I remember, the last edition (t\Yenty-second, I 
 think it was) of Abercromby's Complete Gar- 
 dener — when I found the graphic simplicity of 
 the old, garrulous, and minute instructor, ex- 
 changed for a scientific and somewhat pedantic 
 exposition, which to me, a mere dilettanti gar- 
 dener, taught little or nothing. 
 
 It is very wrong I know, but I am alw^ays in- 
 clined to take fight at the accomplished gentle- 
 men of the present day, who preside over the 
 gardens and estates of others. I know it is all
 
 THE ROSE OF ASHURST. 71 
 
 my own whim, or, perhaps, my ow^n ignorance ; 
 but so it is, and therefore, in no very satisfactory 
 mood, I followed the children into the garden, 
 and was beginning to look towards the houses, 
 expecting to see my gentleman emerge from one 
 of them, when, with a shout of joy, and " There's 
 Job!" both little ones started gladly forward. 
 This drew my attention to a tall, very soberly- 
 dressed figure, with a watering pot in his hand, who 
 was slowly advancing up the broad gravel walk, 
 which divided the garden into two equal por- 
 tions. He kept stopping as he came along, to 
 examine this plant or that, to set this straight, 
 or give a little water to another. 
 
 The children rushed towards him, and had 
 soon hold one of each brown and ruffled hand. 
 
 '* Well, well, what are ye making such a fuss 
 about, little ones ? " said he, good-humouredly ; 
 *' but who is that gentleman with you ?" 
 
 " We don't know," said Amy ; " but he 
 wants you, I believe, so we shewed him the 
 way."
 
 72 THE ROSE OF ASHURST. 
 
 " Any business with me, sir, and please you ?" 
 said the gardener, approaching me. 
 
 He was, as I said, a tall, ^spare man, with 
 something particularly wiry and sinewy about 
 him. His face was a collection of rugged lines, 
 which told of indefatigable labour, and a life's 
 exposure to sun and weather. He had not the 
 least in the world the appearance of a regularly 
 educated, scientific man ; yet there was an air of 
 intelligence, and a certain authority about him, 
 which showed him to be far from belonging to 
 the common sort. 
 
 A gravity, mingled with a touch of sarcastic 
 shrewdness, extreme plainness of manner with- 
 out rudeness — in short, he was one who re- 
 minded one of that antique world, with its 
 somewhat stern, but honest sense and virtue, 
 which has been regretted from the days of 
 Shakespere until now. 
 
 He stood there with the two little children, 
 one hanging upon each bronzed and sinewy 
 hand, looking down upon them from time to
 
 THE ROSE OF ASHURST. 73 
 
 time with a kindliness that gave much charm 
 to his own somewhat harsh countenance. 
 
 " Would you be wanting to speak with me — 
 with Job, sir?" 
 
 " I had a great wish to see the place and the 
 gardens, which belong to a distant relation of 
 mine, and Mrs. Tilley gave me a note to you." 
 
 " All right," was the answer. *' You will be 
 liking to see the houses, no doubt. We've a 
 few choice things there — but if you would walk 
 about the garden a little, whilst I dispatch my 
 business with these two babies, I would be 
 obliged to you." 
 
 '' May I follow you, if I shall not be in the 
 way?" 
 
 " Oh, sir," with a little low laugh, which was 
 peculiar to him, " the business will soon be 
 dispatched between us. These small creatures 
 are good little things in the main. — Well," 
 turning to them, " where's your strawberries?" 
 The children presented their basket. Job 
 examined the contents with some care.
 
 74 THE ROSE OF ASHURST. 
 
 ** All right," said he, returning the basket to 
 Amy. " And now you may each gather a score 
 of the largest giant strawberries you can find, 
 to lay atop of those you've brought." 
 
 *' It's carrying coals to Newcastle like, to 
 make those little creatures bring me strawber- 
 ries," he remarked, as the children flew away 
 to the long lines of strawberry beds, where an 
 abundant harvest of rich crimson fruit was peer- 
 ing from among the green leaves. " But you 
 see, sir," turning to me, " Fm not one as has 
 been brought up among the slack-handed of 
 these days. It's not the fashion here — We, at 
 this place, like children to be brought up in the 
 way they should go. We like even such bits 
 as those to understand the nature of man's life 
 here below. — Earn and have. — Give of the 
 labour of thy hands according to thy power, 
 and expect the increase. I don't think it meet to 
 give even such little ones as those their measure of 
 strawberries for the old lady, their grandmother, 
 without exacting some trouble on their own part.
 
 THE ROSE OF ASHURST. 75 
 
 Let them labour of their best, before they expect 
 their baskets to be filled. It's Bible doctrine 
 that, or I'm mistaken." 
 
 *' So you expect them to prove their industry 
 by gathering wild strawberries, such as they 
 are, before they expect you to give them your 
 fine ones — a good idea — very right." 
 
 " Aye, aye, there are plenty of idle vagabonds 
 'brought up every day to live by the sweat of 
 
 another's brow Job won't lend a hand in 
 
 the manufacture ;" and he gave another low 
 laugh. 
 
 " Is that the principle of the place, or your 
 own individual notion?" I asked, 
 
 " Why, as much as it's in her ; she strives to 
 do it — but she's a too soft heart — a too soft 
 heart," repeated the old man, and his tone sweet- 
 ened as if the very allusion to her was enough 
 to tender his tones. 
 
 " She ! Ellen ? Lady Vynour, you mean ?" 
 
 " Aye, sir, surely do I. We have her name 
 in our mouths and in our hearts — but would
 
 76 THE ROSE OF ASHURST. 
 
 you like to see the houses ? She likes flowers, 
 that she does, rarely. Not like fine ladies, to 
 make posies to simper over and throw away. 
 No, she loves the flower — she loves the beauty 
 and the curiosity of these rarely finished works of 
 the good and great Maker, and she knows a 
 
 power about them too Ah ! but she's a rare 
 
 woman is that — such as have their price above 
 rubies." 
 
 Thus talking or muttering to himself, rather 
 than addressing me, we reached the door of one 
 of the houses, and as he opened it, I was almost 
 as much dazzled as delighted by the prospect 
 before me — such a profusion of beauty. 
 
 It was one of the forcing houses, and the 
 huge bunches of purple and green grapes hung 
 in rich abuidance from the vines, which ran 
 mantling with their green tendrils and branches 
 over the sashes above, whilst beneath them, 
 spread out as upon a table, were the peach and 
 nectarine trees, covered with blushing crimson 
 fruit, splendid in size and colour alike, and look-
 
 THE ROSE OF ASHURST. H 
 
 ing most deliciously inviting. A garland of 
 hot-house flowers in full blow ran round the 
 house, like a riband of the finest colours. 
 
 I thought I had never seen anything so beau- 
 tiful. 
 
 I expressed my admiration warmly. 
 
 " Aye, aye, it's all as she would have it." 
 
 " But she is not here to enjoy it — what a 
 
 pity!" 
 
 He shook his head. 
 
 " That's it — So it is in this world — folks 
 can't be everywhere at once — It's the cumber of 
 riches, I sometimes think. What's the use ? — 
 Man has but one pair of eyes, ditto hands, ditto 
 feet. He can scarce get at his own wealth, 
 when he's so much of it — what profit is there 
 in all my pains, but to send her baskets of 
 fruit and cut flowers, that's all ;" and he went 
 on, opening succession house after succession 
 house. 
 
 We ended by the garden door at which we 
 had entered, where my two little friends were
 
 78 THE ROSE OF ASHURST. 
 
 standing, their basket piled up with magnificent 
 strawberries, which were partly covered up with 
 strawberry leaves. 
 
 " Will you please to count if it's all right ?" 
 said the little girl, gently. 
 
 He gave a glance at the basket. 
 
 " I'll be bound it is — I'll trust you this once 
 — heigh, little ones ! and now go home, for it's 
 getting late, and they'll be wanting you, I reckon. 
 Good night, Amy ; my respects to your grand- 
 mother. — Good night, Fabian ; my love to your 
 mother. Off with you both ;" and the children 
 disappeared through the garden door, 
 
 *' You'll be liking to see the pleasure grounds, 
 Fm thinking, sir," Job then said, turning to 
 me ; ^' I'll walk them over with you, if so be 
 that you wish to see them." 
 
 *' I do wish it particularly, if you can spare 
 me so much of your time," and I glanced at the 
 watering-pot which was still in his hand. 
 
 " The day's work is nearly over," was the 
 reply, putting down the watering-pot. " It's a
 
 THE ROSE OF ASHURST. 79 
 
 pleasure to a man to shew them things to those 
 who have the true feeling about them. This 
 way, sir, if you please." 
 
 The sun was getting low by the time I had 
 walked, accompanied by Job, through the gardens 
 and pleasure-grounds of the Hall. 
 
 In the course of the conversation, or rather 
 of his talk, for my share in the discourse was but 
 small, I obtained a good general idea of Ellen's 
 character. He seemed never weary of dwelling 
 upon her excellencies ; upon the nature of the im- 
 pression she produced upon those around her ; 
 her principles and ways of proceeding. 
 
 They seemed to me admirable. Such a com- 
 bination of firmness and indulgence— such a de- 
 sire, not only to administer to the comforts of the 
 animal, but to elevate and improve the man ! — 
 Not by denying him recreation and pleasure, but 
 by endeavouring to alter the character of his re- 
 creations and pleasures, by exciting the taste and
 
 80 THE ROSE OF ASHURST. 
 
 desire for pure forms of enjoyment. Thus, to 
 countervail the fascinations of the ale-house, the 
 gin-shop, and of still more vicious indulgences, by 
 substituting better and higher ; everything being 
 made subservient to her one grand object, the 
 making the people around her sincere Christians, 
 and real children of God. 
 
 Job and I were so completely agreed in our 
 admiration of Lady Vynour, that a sudden 
 friendship shot up between us ; and it was with 
 very cordial expressions of his hope that I would 
 come up again, and look over the flower-garden 
 with him, and more especially, that I should re- 
 turn and visit Lady Vynour, who was expected 
 before very long — that we parted. 
 
 The two little ones had already set forward, 
 as I said, upon the return home, when Job and 
 I separated ; but I overtook them, walking hand 
 in hand up the lane. Before I had joined them, 
 however, they had stopped at the place where 
 1 had seen them at first, and seemed to be 
 debating upon some interesting subject.
 
 THE ROSE OF ASHURST. 81 
 
 The boy appeared wanting to stop — the little 
 girl to go on. 
 
 I came up to them before they were aware. 
 
 Amy was saying, — 
 
 *' Foolish boy ! — You'll never get at them, 
 and you'll be stung... and besides, it's getting 
 late, and grandmamma will wonder what's be- 
 come of me. Come along, there's a good boy ; 
 we must not stop, indeed." 
 
 " But it's a tapestry bee — it's the most curious 
 thing in the world," said the infant Linnaeus, 
 imploringly ; and with his voice faltering as if 
 he were going to cry. 
 
 " But we can't — can't get it ; and what's the 
 use ? Come along, there's a good boy ;" and 
 she attempted to pull him forward, but the 
 embryo professor was obstinate, and would not 
 move. 
 
 " Oh ! what shall I do ? — what shall I do, if 
 you won't come ? It's getting late, and grand- 
 mamma will want me. Do come — do come — 
 there's a good boy — do come !" 
 
 VOL. I. G
 
 82 THE ROSE OF ASHURST. 
 
 Her little face was the picture of distress. 
 
 It was time for the Deus ex machind to 
 appear. 
 
 " What do you want, little fellow ? To take 
 a bee's nest ?" I began, coming up to them. 
 
 " Oh ! it's a tapestry bee." 
 
 The argument seemed to him irrefragable — 
 the object irresistible. 
 
 " Well, suppose I try what I can do to take 
 it for you ?" 
 
 He clasped his hands in ecstacy , but the 
 little girl said, with a look of increasing dis- 
 tress, — 
 
 " Will it be very long doing ? because it's very, 
 very late, and we ought to go home." 
 
 " We'll see about that — and if it can't be done 
 to-night, why, suppose we come and try again 
 to-morrow. Show me the place, Fabian." 
 
 And in an instant the little fellow was strug- 
 gling with hands and knees up the mossy bank. 
 He crept under a bush of blackthorn, and 
 screamed with delight, as he found the spot.
 
 THE ROSE OF ASHURST. 83 
 
 I followed him, scrambling up the bank as well 
 as I could ; but the ground was slippery, and I 
 was aw^kward. I was in danger of coming 
 down head foremost into the lane, and catching 
 hold of a branch to save myself, unfortunately I 
 ran a large thorn right into the palm of my 
 hand, and broke it there. 
 
 A few drops of blood flowed, and the hand 
 felt painful. 
 
 " I have hurt my hand," I said ; " I can't 
 help you now ;" and I got down the bank and 
 began to get out my pocket-handkerchief. 
 
 Tapestry bees and grandmammas were for- 
 gotten directly. 
 
 "Oh! it bleeds, it bleeds!" exclaimed both 
 the children at once. 
 
 " Have you hurt it very, very much ?" asked 
 Amy, anxiously. 
 
 " Not much, dear ; but there's an end of 
 taking bees* nests for to-night, so come along, 
 my man — we'd best all go home." 
 
 We walked on accordingly ; and by the time 
 
 G 2
 
 84 THE ROSE OF ASHURST. 
 
 we had proceeded about a quarter of a mile, I 
 felt my hand begin to swell, and to grow ex- 
 cessively painful. 
 
 I parted with my two little friends at the 
 entrance of the village, and repaired to my 
 friend, Mrs. Tilley, to show her my hand. 
 
 " It's a trifling accident ; merely a bit of 
 blackthorn run into the palm ; but it has 
 swelled very much, and it really hurts me ex- 
 ceedingly." 
 
 " It looks bad, sir, indeed ; let me bathe it in 
 warm water." 
 
 Which she did, but with little good effect. 
 
 " It's an ugly sort of thing, sir. I don't 
 think it is a piece of blackthorn. In that lane 
 there were a good many acacia-trees planted 
 some years ago, and cut down for scrub. I 
 doubt whether you have not ran an acacia-thorn 
 through your hand, and they are most venomous 
 things. I think, sir, it ought to be extracted 
 by the doctor. Had you not better let me send 
 for Mr. Lewis ?"
 
 THE ROSE OF ASHURST. 85 
 
 " That is not necessary ; but I agree with you, 
 he may as well see it. I'll walk down to his 
 shop — where is it ?" 
 
 " Just round that corner, sir — about twenty 
 paces. You can't mistake it — there's the sur- 
 gery on one side." 
 
 I set out again, my hand really becoming ex- 
 cessively troublesome ; I began to think an 
 acacia-thorn was a most venomous thing. 
 
 I turned the corner, and was not long in 
 reaching Mr. Lewis's. 
 
 It was the tiniest and most modest of cottages 
 of gentility that ever was seen, for it was too 
 small to merit the honour of being called a 
 house ; it was modern built and villa like — but 
 so excessively small ! It stood apart, separated 
 from the road and from the village by the most 
 miniature of domains, formed by a little grass- 
 plat, crossed by a gravel walk in front ; a smalj 
 kitchen garden behind, and a narrow flower 
 bedclose by the wall of the house, kept very 
 neatly, and with a few rather choice flowers in it.
 
 S6 THE ROSE OF ASHURST. 
 
 The surgery, a small lean-to, with a sloping roof, 
 was upon one side. 
 
 The house had a door of its own, and one 
 window in front, belonging to the parlour, which 
 parlour opened into the surgery. 
 
 Everything had an air of neatness and order 
 the most complete ; but frugality, not to say 
 sparingness, was evident in every detail. 
 
 The surgery, or rather shop, into which I 
 made my way, was, however, larger and more 
 roomy than it appeared from without. It was 
 well stored with medicines in drawers, on shelves, 
 in boxes, or in bottles, all arranged in the nicest 
 order ; every glass vessel shining like crystal ; 
 every object in metal bright as gold itself. The 
 whole formed quite a pretty spectacle. A coun- 
 ter ran down the side next to the house wall, 
 against which, as being the loftiest — for indeed 
 it reached to the roof of the building — jars 
 and bottles containing medicines were ar- 
 ranged. 
 
 A young and very pleasing- looking woman
 
 THE ROSE OF ASHURST. 87 
 
 was sitting, busily engaged in fine needlework, 
 behind the counter. 
 
 She looked up as I entered, and, rising from 
 her chair, asked me what I was pleased to 
 w^ant ? 
 
 " I want to see Mr. Lewis. Is he at home ?" 
 
 " No, sir, I am sorry to say he is not. He 
 has been sent for to Marston-in-the-Marsh." 
 
 " And when do you expect him back ?" 
 
 " I cannot exactly say, sir. There had been 
 a bad accident. It is impossible to say how long 
 he may be detained. Can I do anything, if you 
 please ? I have learned to read and make up 
 prescriptions. You may trust me ; I am very 
 careful." 
 
 '' It is not a prescription I want made up. I 
 have hurt my hand." 
 
 " Anything very serious, sir ?" observing my 
 hand muffled up in my pocket-handkerchief 
 " Would you dislike to let me look at it ? I 
 know a little about wounds." 
 
 " I have only run a thorn into it \ but it is
 
 88 THE ROSE OF ASHURST. 
 
 swelled, and pains me a good deal ;" opening 
 the linen and displaying the hand, which looked 
 very much inflamed, and ugly enough. 
 
 She took the hand into hers, white and deli- 
 cate as that of the most eminent of surgeons, 
 and examined it with great care and atten- 
 tion. 
 
 " The thorn has broken in the palm of the 
 hand, and has entered a good way, I fear." 
 
 " Mrs. Tilley thinks it is an acacia-thorn. I 
 met with the little accident in the lane leading 
 to the Hall." 
 
 " There are a good many acacia-bushes there, 
 I know, sir. I should be sorry to think it was 
 a thorn of that sort. I believe they are very 
 irritating. I think I have heard Mr. Lewis say 
 so, and this seems so large a one, and broken 
 so deeply in, that I am afraid I must not venture 
 to meddle with it. My advice would be, to apply 
 a large poultice to keep down the inflammation, 
 and that you would step through that door into 
 our little sitting-room, and keep quite quiet till
 
 THE ROSE OF ASHURST. 89 
 
 Mr. Lewis comes back. He cannot be very long, 
 I think." 
 
 " I will take your advice, if it will not in- 
 convenience you; and will you kindly order 
 a poultice such as you prescribe, to be made ?" 
 
 " I will make it myself in a moment," she 
 said. " Please let me pass to close the lower 
 half of the shop door : I never leave it open 
 when I am not at my place. This way, if you 
 please — there is a step, sir." 
 
 And having thus secured her little shop, she 
 marshalled me into what she called her sitting- 
 room. 
 
 A nice, little, cosy cabinet of a place it was ; 
 very small, but most cheerfully and prettily fur- 
 nished, and, like the cabin of a ship, everything 
 fitted so exactly into its place, as to aiford the 
 greatest possible economy of room. 
 
 The curtains were of a delicate blue chintz, 
 with small fuchsia flowers trailing over it ; the 
 paper of a minute, but nicely finished pattern ; 
 the carpet very pretty, with two or three little
 
 90 THE ROSE OF ASHURST. 
 
 pieces of green baize over the most frequented 
 portions. Over the chimney-piece there was a 
 small mirror framed with diminutive cases, in 
 which were some specimens of insects and very 
 minute birds. On each side of the room were 
 more cases, some filled with books nicely ar- 
 ranged, others with birds, shells, and various 
 natural curiosities. The whole apartment 
 breathed an air of neatness and tasteful arrange- 
 ment that was excessively pleasing. The only 
 articles of luxury to be seen being a large and 
 delicious sofa, almost too big for the room, and 
 a very comfortable arm-chair. The rest of the 
 furniture was all excessively simple and inex- 
 pensive, but what one would call good of its 
 kind. 
 
 Not the slightest attempt at pretence or 
 ostentation was to be seen. It was the honestest, 
 as well as the nicest, little drawing-room I ever 
 saw in my life. 
 
 By this time the pain in my hand and arm 
 became such that I felt quite sick.
 
 THE ROSE OF ASHURST. 91 
 
 She saw, I suppose, that I looked pale. 
 
 " You seem to suffer a good deal," she said. 
 " Will you please to rest on the sofa ? You 
 had better lie down ; you look faint." Arrang- 
 ing the cushions as she spoke : " Pray lie 
 down, sir, and let me throw up the window. 
 I will get a scarf to put the hand in, and 
 you shall have the poultice as soon as pos- 
 sible." 
 
 She flung up the window as she spoke, whilst 
 I obeyed and laid myself down upon the sofa, 
 for I felt as if I could hardly stand. She went 
 into the shop, and returned speedily with some- 
 thing in a glass. 
 
 " Take that, sir, if you please ; it will do you 
 good." 
 
 " Thank you ;" returning the glass, and 
 looking at her — I could not help it — with 
 something of the admiration I felt ; for she was, 
 indeed, a most pleasing creature. *' You seem 
 quite a physician yourself." 
 
 *' I only do my best to be of use when Mr.
 
 92 THE ROSE OF ASHURST. 
 
 Lewis is of necessity from home," she said, 
 simply, and left the room. 
 
 Soon she returned with fine white linen in 
 her hand, and a great, stout, rosy girl, whose 
 cheeks and bare red arms were perfectly shining 
 with cleanly brightness, following her. 
 
 The saucepan and plate were taken from the 
 girl's hand, the large cataplasm spread by herself 
 was applied, and the injured limb bound up, 
 with the neatness and skill of a professor ; and 
 then, at a word, girl, saucepan, plate, and re- 
 mains of poultice vanished, and the little apart- 
 ment looked as trim and genteel as ever. 
 
 I forgot to mention a glass full of fine flowers 
 that stood in the centre of the little round table, 
 near the sofa. 
 
 "Does your arm feel more comfortable?" 
 she asked, when she had settled it in the scarf, 
 which she tied round my neck, had arranged 
 the cushions, laid me in the most easy of posi- 
 tions, and thrown a shawl over me, all which 
 little cares made me feel very comfortable. " My
 
 THE ROSE OF ASHURST. 93 
 
 advice would be, that you should remain quite 
 still till Mr. Lewis comes ; and perhaps you will 
 allow me to return to the shop, for I may be 
 wanted. I will leave the door open, and be 
 with you again, if you will speak but a word. I 
 should be glad, however, if you could get a little 
 sleep. The accident, I dare say, seems to you a 
 trifling one ; but one cannot be too careful in 
 all that regards the hand. The muscles and 
 tendons are so delicate and complicated, and 
 whenever there is faintness and sickness, with 
 swelling and inflammation supervening, the best 
 thing is to be perfectly quiet until proper assist- 
 ance can be had." 
 
 " I will do as you wish me. I don't think I 
 shall go to sleep ; but I will be good and do as 
 I am bid, and try to amuse myself with look- 
 ing at that beautiful nosegay. What a good 
 gardener you must be !" 
 
 " The flowers are not from our own garden. 
 I have not time to pay the attention necessary 
 to raise such flowers as those, nor has Mr. Lewis,
 
 94 THE ROSE OF ASHURST. 
 
 though we are both very fond of gardening ; but 
 our time is too much taken up." 
 
 *' Yours ! why, you cannot have such a vast 
 deal to do, surely !" This was rather bordering 
 upon the impertinent, I confess. I have such 
 bad manners where I am interested ; and I 
 wanted to provoke her to tell me a good deal 
 more about herself, this model of a wife. Yes, 
 there was no doubt this was the wife of whom 
 Job had spoken in such high terms. 
 
 I have omitted to relate in its proper place 
 how Job, speaking of his favourite little chil- 
 dren, had broken out in praise of the mother of 
 the little boy, both as wife and mother, saying 
 in his quaint way, that if many women were like 
 Mrs. Lewis it might have been the worse for 
 him — for sure and certain he didn't think he 
 could have continued the bachelor he was if he 
 had chanced to meet with her double, " and that 
 would have been a real misfortune to a man, 
 you know, sir," with one of his little inward 
 laughs.
 
 THE ROSE OF ASHURST. 95 
 
 She made no answer. There was a ring at 
 the shop door, which was cut in half, according 
 to a fashion now exploded, when everybody 
 almost can afford to keep a boy or girl to " see 
 to the shop." She hastily passed through the 
 door of communication, leaving it half open, to 
 my great joy, as here was a promise of some 
 amusement to beguile the time whilst I was 
 kept waiting. 
 
 A woman's voice and a baby's mewl were 
 heard, as the door of the surgery opened, and 
 admitted the new comers. 
 
 " Mary Wood !" I heard uttered in the young 
 wife's sweet, pleasant voice, " and the baby — 
 well, how is he going on ?" 
 
 " Oh, he's so restless, ever sin' that nasty 
 vaccivation — what don' you call it? I can't 
 think how ever I come to be such a fool as to 
 let Mr. Lewis do it. He's pison'd the child. 
 A nasty, beastly thing, as comes, they tell me, 
 from a cow ! I wonder he aint ashamed to use 
 Christian folk so. I'm sure, an I'd guessed it
 
 96 THE ROSE OF ASHURST. 
 
 come from a cow, I'd ha' seen him far enough 
 before I'd ha' let him ha' touched my child. 
 Why, if the poor chilt's arm aint swelled as big 
 as two !" 
 
 " Let me look at it. Why, what would you 
 have ? It's doing as nicely as possible." 
 
 " Nicely, indeed ! That's what you call 
 nicely, is it ? Why, I never saw such a hawful 
 thing in all my life, and on a babby, too ! A 
 five months' old babby ! To put it to such a 
 torturing: ! I think Mr. Lewis be the crudest 
 creature in the world, with all his new-fangled 
 notions. My mother knew a power of things 
 about illnesses, and yarbs, and fevers, and bab- 
 bies, and never see 1 her put a nasty cow's 
 disease into a poor innocent babby 's arm. Ay, 
 you may well cry, my darling ! It was the 
 barbarousest thing ever I heard tell of in my 
 life." 
 
 " But it was to save him from the small-pox 
 — you don't seem to understand. It was to 
 save him from the possibility of that dreadful
 
 THE ROSE OF ASHURST. 97 
 
 disease, the small-pox, which might have killed 
 him, you know." 
 
 " And how do I know an' it woU save him ? 
 And besides, how do ye know he'd ever take 
 the small-pox ? I'll tell you what, Mrs. Lewis — 
 an' Mr. Lewis trusted a little more in Provi- 
 dence, instead o' flying to all these out o' nature 
 things o' his, I think it'd be a little more to the 
 credit of his soul — cutting babbies about a' this 
 ins, and making their arms as red and as big as 
 my own — and not one wink o' sleep either he 
 or I had last night — and all for keeping off o' 
 small-pox ! — save ye — that may never come, 
 for anything any o' us know. Why, there's 
 hundreds as never has it, I know. I wish for 
 my part I'd never come „pear Mr. Lewis, I do. 
 Tim Jones, at Morton, 's worth a hundred of 
 him, only it's so far to go. He's a honest man 
 is Tim — he's none o' your new-fangled ones — 
 not he." 
 
 " I am sorry you look upon it so ; but I 
 assure you the vaccination has taken as nicely 
 
 VOL. I. H
 
 98 THE ROSE OF ASHURST. 
 
 as possible, and you will be glad some time or 
 other that you let it be done." And then she 
 kindly and carefully gave a few simple directions 
 how to allay the irritation produced by the com- 
 plaint, and concluded by — " But you look very 
 bad, and tired with your walk. Biddy's just at 
 her tea, won't you step down and rest yourself, 
 and have a cup with her ?" 
 
 " No ; none of your tea for me, thank you, 
 
 ma'am not but what it's very right of you to 
 
 be civil, and please your husband's customers — 
 and you're always pretty spoken, I must say. 
 But as for him, takin in a poor woman and 
 treatin' a babby in this fashion, I say it's a 
 shame and a sin. Nothing to be done, say 
 you, but wait patien^ till it's over ? A matter 
 of two days more you're not ashamed to tell 
 me — and not a wink of sleep all night — poor, 
 dear babby !" 
 
 " Well, just do as I bid you, and both you 
 and baby will sleep to-night ; and it will soon 
 be over — and some time or other you will be
 
 THE ROSE OF ASHURST. 99 
 
 glad that you have followed Mr. Lewis's ad- 
 vice." 
 
 The woman went grumbling away ; and Mrs. 
 Lewis having just peeped in upon me, and 1, 
 having closed my eyes, appearing to be asleep, 
 she returned to the shop, and sat down behind 
 the counter to her work again. 
 
 The shop door opened anon, and a child was 
 heard asking for " six pen'orth of hopum, if you 
 please, ma'am." 
 
 " Whom is it for ?" 
 
 " Betty Green — her as sent for it the morn." 
 
 *' But Betty Green knows it's no use to send 
 — I won't give it her." 
 
 " But she bids me say, ma'am, as how she 
 will have it — and as how. you must sell it. You 
 keeps open shop, and you must sell it." 
 
 " Go and tell her that I won't sell it — it is 
 very bad for her. She's killing herself with it. 
 I told her how to manage herself so as to get 
 over this evil habit — and not a bit of opium 
 does she get from me to-day." 
 
 H 2
 
 100 THE ROSE OF ASHURST. 
 
 The child went away, and I heard Mrs. Lewis 
 go to the surgery door and fasten it. 
 
 In about five minutes somebody was shaking 
 the door violently. 
 
 " Let me in ! — What do you fasten the shop 
 door for ? Let me in, I tell you ! You pretend 
 to keep a physic shop ! and refuse decent people, 
 as is dying of the tooth-ache, a bit of stuff !" 
 
 " Tooth-ache, Betty ! — Don't try to impose 
 
 upon me. You know I will not sell you any 
 
 opium. You know I told you so before. You 
 
 know what pains Mr. Lewis has been taking to 
 
 break you of this vile habit — worse, even, than 
 
 going to the gin-shop, it is^ You know he will 
 
 not sell his physic to minister to a great and 
 
 growing sin. You know he would rather shut 
 
 up shop at once than do it. If you feel very 
 
 low this afternoon, I'll give you a Httle stuff 
 
 that will keep you up a bit ; but I can't, and 
 
 won't, give you a grain of opium. You know 
 
 it is your disgrace and ruin, and will end by 
 
 bringing you to a miserable death."
 
 THE ROSE OF ASHURST. 101 
 
 " I don't care what it is ; but I can't and 
 won't bear what you make me bear. Mr. Lewis 
 is the cruelest doctor that ever was born ; and 
 it's not I, but every one else, that's a saying so. 
 He's a heart of stone. He's no more bowels 
 for the poor than this wooden door; nor you 
 neither, m.ealy-mouthed as you look. Now do 
 - — do — do, missus — this once, give me a bit — 
 
 only this once this once — you don't know 
 
 what a hell I am in." 
 
 " I am very, very sorry for you. I know you 
 suffer horribly at times, poor woman ! but it 
 must be — there is nothing else to be done. 
 Here, take this stuff; it will help you a little — 
 you must — indeed you must bear it." 
 
 *' Hang your filthy stuff, you hard-hearted 
 Jezebel !" 
 
 And I heard breaking splinters, as if the 
 glass window panes were being dashed through. 
 
 The woman left the door, Mrs. Lewis re- 
 turned to her seat, and this time I heard her 
 utter a heavy sigh. But, discouraging as all
 
 102 THE ROSE OF ASHURST. 
 
 this must have been, she seemed soon to recover 
 her spirits ; and as patient succeeded to patient, 
 and child to child, asking for advice or pen'orths 
 of this and that, answered all the demands upon 
 her with inexhaustible good humour The 
 children were cheerfully served, and with sundry 
 little merry laughs and jokes at their blunders 
 and mistakes ; the patients were treated with the 
 same mild yet resolute kindness. 
 
 At last the evening began to draw on, the 
 visits of the customers seemed to have come to 
 an end, and silence was beginning to prevail in 
 the street and the shop, when the door was 
 roughly pushed open, and a step which appeared 
 to be that of a young man entering was heard.
 
 THE ROSE OF ASHURST. 103 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 " For not to know at large of things remote, obscure. 
 But to know that which before us lies in daily life. 
 Is the prime wisdom." 
 
 Paradise Lost. 
 
 Mrs. Lewis started up from her seat with a 
 short, smothered cry, like that of one, as it 
 seemed to me, in pain. 
 
 " Well, how do you do, missis?" began the 
 new comer. " Is Walter at home?" 
 
 " How are you, Paul ? You took me by 
 surprise. I thought you were in London." 
 
 * * You don't look very particularly glad to see 
 me, Kate, whether you thought me in London
 
 104 THE ROSE OF ASHURST. 
 
 or no. No, I am not in London, as you see. 
 I came down to have a talk with Walter. I 
 have brought something with me that wiU 
 please him, I guess, w^hether it does you or not. 
 Will you condescend to look at it ?" 
 
 "Ah, Paul '....But will you not take a seat? 
 Walter is out. Don't go into the parlour, there 
 is a gentlemen there who has met with an acci- 
 dent. I hope he has fallen asleep." 
 
 I made a little moving upon this, and coughed 
 slightly, to show that 1 was not asleep. 
 
 They neither of them seemed to trouble them- 
 selves whether I was asleep or no — they went 
 on talking. 
 
 " Had you not better shut the door ?" at 
 last, I said, for now I found that family affairs 
 were about to be discussed : I thought it trea- 
 cherous to listen. 
 
 She put the door to, upon this, but did 
 not fasten it, and went on speaking in a low 
 tone, so that I did not at first hear anything 
 that was going on ; but presently they seemed
 
 THE ROSE OF ASHURST, 105 
 
 both to forget that any one was in the parlour ; 
 and do what I might by various warning noises, 
 I could not help being made acquainted with a 
 good deal of what passed. 
 
 There was a rustling of papers. Then I 
 heard Mrs. Lewis say, " Ah, Paul, such gifts as 
 yours !" 
 
 He answered with considerable self-compla- 
 cency, betrayed by the tone of his voice — 
 " You acknowledge them, then ?" 
 *' I have ever acknowledged them." 
 " And yet you would have the insigne barba- 
 rity to condemn me to the life I am now lead- 
 ing. Such a life ! Was ever galley slave chained 
 to the oar so miserable a victim of oppression as 
 I ? The fresh wind of heaven, at least, plays upon 
 his cheek — at least, he can lift his face upwards 
 to the azure sky — can gaze upon the beaming 
 sun — stretch his view over the mighty ocean. 
 Liberty of the soul, at least, is his ! — but mine ! 
 I wish you knew what it was ; — could be made 
 to understand it. Nor Walter either — but no, he
 
 106 THE ROSE OF ASHURST. 
 
 can never be made to comprehend it. He cannot 
 form the slightest idea approaching to it. He 
 is made to toil, be prudent, get money, and end 
 life a prosperous man. He can sit by the hour, 
 casting up his figures and making out his bills, 
 and look as content and pleased with himself 
 when he has done it, as if he had composed 
 the * Iliad !' I can't do that. It kills me to do 
 that. The dull routine of monotonous employ- 
 ment was never meant for me. Mr. Strickland 
 was nothing short of a barbarian to condemn 
 me to it." 
 
 " Mr. Strickland thought it was for the best. 
 You know you never would apply at school. 
 He was impartial, and would have opened to 
 you, as well as to Walter, the way to a more 
 intellectual occupation if you would have studied 
 for it ; but you know you did not like that." 
 
 '* Like that ! It was not very likely — Such 
 a boy as I was, is not exactly made to like 
 that, as you call it ! — grinding with the nose 
 down to the millstone — grind, grind, grind, at
 
 THE ROSE OF ASHURST, 107 
 
 dry, useless, antiquated stuff, such as they 
 teach in what they call their schools ! They 
 might thrash me to atoms, but thank my better 
 nature ! — genius ! if you will — they never could 
 thrash their rubbish into me — nor that better 
 thing that was in me, out of me." 
 
 " But you are too clever, Paul, not to know' 
 very well, that without the foundation of re- 
 solute, persevering study, no success in any of 
 the higher walks of industry can be obtained." 
 
 " Walks of industry ! — as if there was no 
 virtue, or excellence under the sun, but in what 
 you are pleased to designate as the w^alks of in- 
 dustry ! I tell you, Fate, that I was born for 
 better things ; and do or say what you will to 
 persuade me, or to persuade Walter to keep me 
 lashed to the oar, sooner or later I shall burst 
 my fetters and soar — where — where — I was 
 destined, by the bountiful hand of nature, to 
 soar ! — but tell me, do you hke the verses ?" 
 
 " There is something that seems to me very 
 grand and powerful about them ; but you know,
 
 108 THE ROSE OF ASHURST. 
 
 with my ideas, I cannot enter into — I cannot 
 approve the sentiments." 
 
 " As if any one expected you would ! I was 
 a fool to let such a regular old stager as you 
 look at the lines — you ! . . . but I beg your 
 pardon, my dear Kate, it is not your fault that 
 you were born quite behind your age — ' to 
 suckle fools and chronicle small beer,' eh, Kate ? 
 Shakespeare thought that the only legitimate 
 vocation of even the most accomplished of 
 women. Ideas are a little advanced upon that 
 subject, as upon many others, since then — but 
 you ! you are content to think as your great 
 grandmother, Mrs. Hopchickery, thought, and 
 go drudging on as she did." 
 
 " If you mean that I am despicable enough 
 to be content to love my husband and my dear 
 little Fabian with all my heart, and to spend 
 my life in trying to make them comfortable, I 
 am very much afraid what you say is true — 
 whatever my great grandmother, Mrs. Hop- 
 chickery, as you please to call her, may have
 
 THE ROSE OP ASHURST. 109 
 
 done or thought ;" and she laughed. " But 
 now just tell me candidly, Paul, should you like 
 to have one of the new sort for your own wife ? 
 answer me that — or would you not, after all, 
 like better to take up with a poor, grovelling 
 slave like me? Now speak the truth ..." 
 
 ** Pooh, pooh ! what is that to the question ? 
 I am an exception, perhaps, to the common 
 rule ; you must not quote me — but where can 
 Walter be gone ? " 
 
 " He's gone to Marston-in-the-Marsh, to see 
 a patient." 
 
 *' Riding the old grey, still?" 
 
 " Riding the old grey, still." 
 
 " Well, if I were an industrious, thriving, 
 country practitioner like him, I'd get something 
 of a better nag than that, would I not ? I 
 wonder he's not ashamed of the poor rosin. 
 Why, she's twenty years old if she's a day, I 
 take it — and such a spectacle ! " 
 
 " She is old, but she's sound yet ; and till 
 she gives in, we shall make her do."
 
 110 THE ROSE OF ASHURST. 
 
 " You are the most stingy pair of people in 
 the universe, that everybody knows. Well, take 
 your own way." 
 
 " So we intend to do . . . but in the meantime I 
 beg your pardon, I have not asked you whether 
 you will take anything — a cup of tea"? — a glass 
 of wine ? '* 
 
 " Wine ! Have you really such a thing in 
 the house ? I thought you and Walter forswore 
 wine ; it was too costly, forsooth ! " 
 
 ** Whether we do or no, is not the matter in 
 question : the question is, will you have wine or 
 tea?" 
 
 " Wine, to be sure, if you have any in the 
 house; I hate tea." 
 
 " There is inspiration in wine, some of your 
 great poets say ; but I think there is more in 
 tea. However, you shall not be baulked of 
 your wine, and in return, perhaps, you will shew 
 me something that will suit my humble capa- 
 city better than those fiery odes you have just 
 given me to read."
 
 THE ROSE OF ASHURST. 1 1 1 
 
 " Well, give me a glass of wine, and we'll see." 
 
 I heard the uncorking of a bottle. 
 
 " Why ! do you keep your wine in your 
 shop ? faugh ! " 
 
 " It is the only place I have. It won't taste 
 of rhubarb,' believe me." 
 
 " It's capital !" drinking and smacking his 
 lips ; '* I don't care if you give me another glass 
 — better and better — third time pays for all. 
 Another, and then you shall have my song." 
 
 There was once more a rustling of paper, and 
 afterwards a pause — she was reading the verses, 
 I concluded. 
 
 " This is really beautiful," she said. 
 
 *' And you really like it ? you really do ? — 
 Why I declare, if you have not a something 
 twinkling in your eye, you soft, dear, silly crea- 
 ture ! And so you fancy that better than my 
 odes." 
 
 " A thousand times." 
 
 *' Better than ' Tremble, ye tyrants ! ' &c. &c." 
 
 " Why, those verses you dislike are enough to
 
 112 THE ROSE OF ASHURST. 
 
 rouse a spirit in the very dead themselves . . . 
 but you love tea better than wine, I think you 
 told me." 
 
 " In all ways" — 
 
 " Will Walter never come in, I wonder what 
 he can be about ? — I must be off soon. I have 
 got leave for only three days, and this evening is 
 devoted to a set of choice fellows — fellows that 
 can kindle at an ode and defy a tyrant !... that 
 love wine better than tea — ay, and blood better 
 than slavery, I can tell you." 
 
 " Oh, Paul ! how can you talk so ?" 
 
 " I tell you," — in an excited voice, — " you 
 don't know what it is ! — you speak of what you 
 don't understand. You are a woman, and made 
 to be a slave. . .and you are free of the sweet air of 
 God, and never tried it. You don't know what 
 a galling sense of serfdom it is — The rebellion of 
 the heart ! the fierce raging of the spirit against 
 the accursed, cursed yoke ! " 
 
 " Dear Paul ! don't, pray don't, go on in 
 this way. You talk till you persuade yourself
 
 THE ROSE OF ASHURST. 113 
 
 of the justice of what you say. What is there 
 so very cruel, so very galling, so very hard, in 
 being obliged to do that which thousands and 
 thousands are contentedly doing every day ? — 
 and in such a house as the Messrs. Howish's, 
 too !— •" 
 
 " Such a house ! You don't know what you 
 are talking about. It's the most horrid, odious 
 slave bazaar of any house in London." 
 
 " You astonish me ! — and when it cost Mr. 
 Strickland such infinite pains to get you re- 
 ceived there. Why, does not everybody say the 
 same thing — that Mr. Howish treats his young 
 men as if they were his children ? Pays the 
 greatest attention to their comforts, and, what 
 is a thousand times more important, to their 
 religion and morals ; he " 
 
 " Religion and morals ! — humbug ! Oh, yes, 
 he pays the most sedulous attention to our 
 religion and morals — no doubt of it ! Every 
 man Jack must be at home by ten o'clock in 
 the evening, for family prayers. Very exemplary 
 
 VOL. I. I
 
 114 THE ROSE OF ASHURST. 
 
 of him, ain't it ? — But mark me — this keeps all 
 regular — makes us fit for shop and all alert by 
 eight o'clock in the morning. Up to our busi- 
 ness ! — keep early hours ! — catch one of your 
 righteous ones neglecting the main chance ! 
 Give me a hollow tree, a crust of bread, and 
 liberty ! What do I care for his comforts, his 
 clean beds, and his roast mutton ? I'd rather 
 sleep under the filthiest and closest counter in 
 the city than under damask, so I might have 
 my freedom and keep my own hours. Home 
 at ten o'clock ! — just when the heart begins to 
 expand, the spirits to rise — fellows to get warm, 
 and good company ! — to be obliged to sneak 
 home, like Tom the footboy, to bed and prayers ! 
 That's it — exactly it — and what I can't and 
 won't bear — others may, but I won't. I've 
 made up my mind — I'll burst my fetters — I'll 
 break my articles, and have done with it !" 
 
 " But what on earth will become of you, 
 then?" 
 
 . " I don't care what becomes of me, I tell you —
 
 THE ROSE OF ASHURST. 115 
 
 I can't and won't bear it. I won't, because I 
 can't. Others may drudge — some are born to 
 be drudges. I verily believe the most part have 
 such vile meanness of spirit that they like it — 
 verily they like to be other men's slaves — coming 
 home at ten o'clock to porridge and prayers ! 
 Good boys — good boys all — but I ain't one of 
 them. I must have liberty. I was born for 
 pleasure ; I was born to give pleasure, and to 
 taste pleasure. It's true enough what you say — 
 under the unjust, villanous, and tyrannous sys- 
 tems of this old, worn-out, prejudice-trodden 
 society of ours, it is very difficult for a man like 
 me — a man of genius — I'm not ashamed to 
 call myself so — it is very difficult for a man of 
 genius to know how to bestow himself ! But one 
 thing I do know — I'll no longer be the slave of an 
 old canting hypocrite, with his pockets full of 
 gold of my earning, and who gives me in return 
 a paltry stipend, his mutton and his prayers ! 
 What if his mutton be good — it ought to be 
 good — and we'd make a pretty row, some of us, 
 
 I 2
 
 116 THE ROSE OF ASHURST. 
 
 if it wasn't good — no thanks to him for that ; — 
 And as for his prayers, he may keep them to 
 himself. What do I want with his prayers ?" 
 
 " Oh, Paul ! Paul ! don't talk in this shock- 
 ing manner. You know I ought not — I cannot 
 bear, and I will not bear, to listen to you." 
 
 "Oh, I beg your pardon — I most humbly 
 beg your pardon — I forgot whom I was speaking 
 to. I am apt to forget where I am when I 
 become excited. One must speak with all due 
 reverence of psalms, and hymns, and such 
 trumpery before you. You are a regular one, I 
 know of old — one of the proper school, and go 
 to church every Sunday, and I don't know what 
 all ; but this I will say for you, Kate, you are 
 not like that old tyrannical canting Puritan 
 Jedidiah Howish — you don't try to force your 
 notions upon me. You don't refuse me my 
 bit of roast beef on a Sunday because I like 
 better to sit upon a bank of primroses, smoking 
 my cigar and adoring nature, than to hear old 
 Pemberton prose — I must do you that justice —
 
 THE ROSE OF ASHURST. 117 
 
 I really beg your pardon for offending your pre- 
 judices." 
 
 " You know how very much I dislike your 
 irreverent way of talking, when you touch upon 
 serious subjects. If I do not insist upon your 
 going to church, it is because I have no autho- 
 rity over you. I am quite of Mr. Howish's way 
 of thinking, as regards those in my own service. 
 I make Biddy go. But it is useless for me to 
 interfere with you.'* 
 
 " Service ! — Really, Kate, I must say you 
 make use of very odd expressions — Biddy, in- 
 deed ! Sister mine, I think you are not alto- 
 gether of the politest — evening me with Biddy 
 — I thought you would not condescend to be 
 rude, even in defence of your church-going 
 notions." 
 
 " Indeed I did not mean to offend you, and I 
 beg your pardon. But what does a word mis- 
 applied, or rightly applied, matter ? — The main 
 question is, what you are to do ? or, how to get 
 your living in any other way ?"
 
 118 THE ROSE OF ASHURST. 
 
 " The main question is, that I won't get it in 
 this way, make you sure of that — and I am 
 come to ask advice from Walter as to the 
 matter. I suppose it would do no good to get 
 him to write to Mr. Strickland ?" 
 
 " That you know it would not. I have heard 
 Walter repeat a thousand times what Mr. 
 Strickland said when he parted from you both." 
 
 "Oh, yes! That good boy, Walter! He 
 remembers the sermon the old gentleman gave 
 us — every word of it, I'll be bound. But I 
 don't cumber my head with such stuff. Come, 
 you'd better go over it again. I've forgot my 
 lesson." 
 
 " It was not a very long one. ' There, my 
 lads,' he said, * I've done what I could for you — 
 I've given you an education and the means to 
 start in the world and get your own livings. 
 Now mark what I say — henceforth I have done 
 with you for good. I expect you to work like 
 men, and provide for yourselves ; and it will not 
 be of the least use your ever coming again to
 
 THE ROSE OF ASHURST. 119 
 
 me. You'll think, maybe, because Fm rich and 
 have been liberal to you, that you can bleed 
 me whenever you will ; but I tell you once for 
 all, I'm not one to be bled. You won't get 
 a stiver out of me, though you were begging in 
 the streets. It will be all your own fault if you 
 are so ; and my money is for those who can't 
 help themselves, and not for those who won't.' " 
 " Ha ! ha ! ha ! I remember it, now you put 
 me in mind, as if it were but yesterday. Why, 
 Kate, it's as good as a comedy — you do it to the 
 life. The worthy old curmudgeon! I verily believe 
 he'd be as good as his word, though Walter, and 
 you, and I, and the precious child to boot, were 
 starving. Not one crumb of bread, not one 
 halfpenny, would he give to save his soul. No, 
 you're quite right — not the least use in applying 
 to him.'* 
 
 " Then I repeat, what will you do ?" 
 "And I repeat, there is one thing I won't 
 do — stay as I am. Can't and won't — other 
 people can play at can't and won't, besides the
 
 120 THE ROSE OF ASHURST. 
 
 all-powerful Mr. Strickland — and Fm one of 
 them." 
 
 A sort of smothered sigh was the answer to this. 
 
 " Don't look so dolorous, Kate — surely it's 
 no affair of yours." 
 
 " I don't know — I am not quite " 
 
 " Pooh ! you mean — I know well enough 
 what you mean — you are afraid of your hus- 
 band's money. Take care of the purse — oh, by 
 all means take care of the purse 1 Study your 
 gospel, too, though ; and in one little corner or 
 other, I've a notion it says something of this 
 sort, ' From him that would borrow of thee, 
 turn not thou away.' — Eh ?" 
 
 " The devil can quote scripture," thought I. 
 
 " Ay," Paul went on — " you good, pious 
 people, can be ready enough with your texts 
 and your verses against us poor sinners, who 
 neither make large the borders of our garments, 
 nor widen our phylacteries, nor say long prayers ; 
 but when it comes to your turn — when the poor 
 sinners come down upon you with a text upon
 
 THE ROSE OF ASHURST, 121 
 
 their side of the question — above all, a text that 
 touches the purse — oh ! then to be sure, we are 
 not to interpret scripture literally — eh, Kate ?" 
 
 " I do not think you are quite just, Paul. I 
 do not think that you have found your brother— 
 and I hope you have not found me — unwilling 
 to come forward when we could be of any real 
 service to you. But I believe we should be 
 doing you a very ill turn if we encouraged you, 
 by any hopes of assistance upon our part, to 
 throw up the safe and respectable situation in 
 which you were placed by Mr. Strickland. Be- 
 lieve me, situations are not so easily obtained as 
 you niay perhaps think. And many and many 
 a young man would esteem himself fortunate 
 indeed, if he could get such a place as yours." 
 
 " Many and many a young man !" mimick- 
 ing. "Why, Kate, you really will grow old 
 before your time, if you talk in such a senten- 
 tious manner. Many and many a young man ! 
 M^hy, that's quite a set phrase. Everybody says 
 it to everybody, who does not particularly de-
 
 122 THE ROSE OF ASHURST. 
 
 light in an odious position. Many and many a 
 young man ! — very probably — but perhaps I'm 
 not exactly like many and many a young man ; 
 and occupations may be suited to many and 
 many a young man, that are not exactly the 
 thing for me." 
 
 "Do not mistake me. I know you have 
 talents — I appreciate your talents — but oh, 
 Paul ! do not let the precious gifts of God 
 prove an injury and a snare, for want of a little 
 common sense to guide them." 
 
 "Lavater has it, 'that genius is only the 
 flower of common sense,' I would have you to 
 know — and the guidance of the intuitions of 
 genius is the guidance of a higher wisdom than 
 you ' muckworms,' — shall I venture to call you 
 so in the language of Milton, — or shall I say, — 
 than you drudges are perhaps aware of." 
 
 "The light that led astray was light from 
 heaven. — Ah, poor Burns ! yet it did lead even 
 him astray ! — Oh, dear Paul ! be wise in time. 
 Be steady, be industrious — beware of expensive
 
 THE ROSE OF ASHURST. 123 
 
 habits. Fly from evil company — eschew debt- — 
 achieve a noble independence — and upon that 
 basis build. You have genius — I know it — I 
 know it ; but ah, Paul ! Paul ! what is genius 
 hampered with difficulties of this nature — bowed 
 down with money obligations, the consequence of 
 imperfect self-government — a prey to every pass- 
 ing temptation — dogged by evil habits — fettered 
 by debts — ashamed to look the hardworking, 
 prosperous toiler in the face ; despised by men 
 whose natural gifts are far inferior to his own ! 
 And why despised? — because their conscience tells 
 them that they have triumphed over self — that 
 they have laboured perseveringly and well in their 
 vocation — in that portion of the Lord's vineyard 
 where their task was allotted them. — Whilst 
 genius ! clipped of its glorious wings ! degraded, 
 miserable, and in rags ! serves only to point a 
 warning — when it ought to have been the 
 brightest of examples." 
 
 There was a momentary pause after this out- 
 burst.
 
 124 THE ROSE OF ASHURST. 
 
 The response was, this time, in a less mocking 
 tone. 
 
 " You talk of God — you hope and trust in 
 God — you believe he interferes in the miserable 
 concerns of this ridiculous life of ours ?" 
 
 " I do believe it. It is my conviction — my 
 rock — my hope." 
 
 " Happy !... Sometimes I wish 1 did — some- 
 times I catch myself wishing that I could feel 
 as you do, Kate — that I were again a credulous 
 child, or an equally credulous woman ; but man, 
 in the maturity of reason, finds it difficult to 
 swallow certain dogmas." 
 
 " * To the Greeks foolishness, but to them 
 which believe, Christ the power of God and the 
 wisdom of God,' " was the reply, with a certain 
 genial glow in the manner of it. 
 
 There was another pause ; then he began 
 again,— 
 
 '* You talk of a man's vocation — do you know 
 what the word you use exactly means ?"
 
 THE ROSE OF ASHURST. 125 
 
 " Calling — what a man is called to — does it 
 
 not?" 
 
 " And how is a man to know what he is 
 
 called to?" 
 
 " Why . . . ." 
 
 " Is there any voice to be heard calling us ? 
 I never heard but one voice, that of nature 
 within me — and that calls loudly enough. It 
 calls to me to break the chains that are eating: 
 away my life, and silently crushing down the 
 aspirations of genius — to assert my liberty and 
 self-action ! to follow the instincts of my heart ! 
 to live to freedom and myself ! to spurn the 
 base, grovelling employment of a dirty, money- 
 getting world — and dare to breathe alone for 
 poetry and nature. That's my call, at least — 
 yours may be different." 
 
 " You puzzle me as you puzzle yourself, I 
 think, dear Paul — darkening wisdom by words 
 without knowledge. Yes, I must own that the 
 nature within us is, to a certain degree, a call — 
 I acknowledge it. Walter and I are endeavour-
 
 126 THE ROSE OF ASHURST. 
 
 ing to obey that call, as regards our darling 
 Fabian. But there is a higher call than this — 
 the call of duty ! and I think the circumstances 
 with which we are surrounded are as the hiero- 
 glyphics of God, in which we are to read what 
 is our individual duty... Yours, surely, dear Paul, 
 is to maintain yourself, and to abstain from in- 
 dulgences which your purse will not allow. No 
 poetry, no gifts of eloquence, or fancy, or imagi- 
 nation, can exempt you from the primeval com- 
 mand, * in the sweat of thy brow to eat thy 
 bread.' '' 
 
 " And yet numbers and numbers, every day, 
 no better — not half so good as I am — are ex- 
 empted from it ?" 
 
 " It may be so ; but what matters it, when 
 you are not of that number." 
 
 " The more the shame, the more the pity ! — 
 a fresh instance in proof of how false, vicious, 
 and tyrannical is the system of society. Chacun 
 selon sa capacite. There's something like a 
 maxim for you 1 — there's something like wisdom
 
 THE ROSE OF ASHURST. 127 
 
 in thaty I take it, and a true perception of things — 
 And I'll tell you this, if matters went on as they 
 ought to do — as Nature with a loud voice cries 
 that they should do, and as," lowering his voice, 
 *' some day or other they will do — Many, now 
 in high places wearing their robes of scarlet and 
 ermine, might be found behind the counter 
 measuring filthy dowlas ; and others, now wast- 
 ing their energies in the dark corner of a narrow 
 street, might be soaring aloft free to expatiate 
 with Nature, and expound her mysteries to the 
 world !" 
 
 *' I can't tell— I can't answer you, when you 
 talk in this way. AU I know is, this is not the 
 manner in which God has been pleased to order 
 the world at present. He who assigns to every 
 one his place — He, perhaps, can judge better 
 than we, in our self-conceit and blindness, do, 
 what is the situation best suited for each. 
 Oh, Paul ! Paul ! — lose yourself not in these 
 high flights. Dear Paul, condescend to that 
 ' which before you lies in daily life — it is
 
 128 THE ROSE OF ASHURST. 
 
 the prime wisdom/ Believe your favourite 
 Milton." 
 
 " Milton was a narrow-minded Puritan — great 
 poet as he undoubtedly was. We see further 
 into things now-a-days. Ah, my hero ! — are 
 you there ?" 
 
 The young mother started up, hurried to the 
 door, and opened it. A child's voice was heard 
 in answer to her — - 
 
 " My darling ! Have you had a happy even- 
 ing?" 
 
 " I've been as happy as a king, mamma. 
 First, me and Amy walked to see Job, and 
 we were to get strawberries first, and we did ; 
 and oh, mamma ! I saw a tapestry bee, a real 
 live bee, with a bit of red leaf in its bill. And 
 then we went to Job, and he gave us straw- 
 berries ; but he did not talk and teU much, 
 because, you know, there was a gentleman — 
 such a nice gentleman 1" (excuse my vanity in 
 putting that down : I was quite pleased with the 
 compliment) — " and he came home with us ;
 
 THE ROSE OF ASHURST. 129 
 
 and has he been here ? because he run a thorn 
 in his hand, trying to get at the tapestry bee's 
 nest; for he likes about bees and insects, and 
 was good-natured, too. He hurt himself very 
 much. He said he'd come here — did he 
 come ?" 
 
 *' Yes ; but your papa is not at home ; so the 
 gentleman is in the parlour waiting for him. I 
 am afraid his hand is very bad." 
 
 *' I'm so sorry. May I go and see him ?" 
 
 "No, you will disturb, him. But what did 
 you do at Mrs. Grant's ?" 
 
 " First, Amy made such a beauty dish of 
 strawberries, all over flowers and leaves . . . and 
 then we'd cream in Mrs. Grant's real silver, little, 
 funny jug, with men half horses on it — are there 
 such creatures ? — I don't think so ; and then 
 we'd picture books, Amy and I — great, large, 
 beautiful picture books . . but Mrs. Grant lets 
 Amy turn them all herself, because she's so good 
 and so caring. And so I'm come home all alone 
 with Biddy, and it's been very pleasant indeed." 
 
 VOL, I. K
 
 130 THE ROSE OF ASHURST. 
 
 "And brought a cake in your pocket for 
 mamma. But have you nothing to say to uncle 
 Paul?" 
 
 " How do you do, uncle Paul ?" 
 
 " You needn't uncle me. Call me Paul — tout 
 court — but shake hands. Why, Pabian, you 
 are growing quite a man." 
 
 ** Aint I. Fm grown as big ! — that much 
 since last birthday." 
 
 " Well, you're a fine, jolly lad, any how. And 
 so you've been flirting with Miss Grant, you 
 young rogue, have you ?" 
 
 " Don't, Paul, don't !" in a tone of disappro- 
 bation, 
 
 " Flirting ! What, flirting ?" 
 
 "Oh you'll know time enough ; but we mustn't 
 talk of such wicked things to little boys. Little 
 boys • mustn't be knowing, must they, mam- 
 ma?" 
 
 " Oh yes, but I want to be knowing. I ivill 
 be knowing. Papa's very knowing, and I will 
 be like papa."
 
 THE ROSE OF ASHURST. 131 
 
 A loud, rough laugh answered this earnest 
 speech. 
 
 *' Better come to me than to papa, if he wants 
 to be knowing — eh, Kate ?" 
 
 " Better copy his father in everything. You 
 are quite right, my darling. Be knowing, and 
 like your papa — and now^ go to bed. Go round 
 by the back door, dear, that you mayn't disturb 
 the gentleman." 
 
 The child went away. 
 
 " Well, he is a fine fellow," Paul began. " It's 
 a pity you make such a milk-sop of him. And 
 so you intend to bring him up to be a regular 
 M.D., do you ? Ambitious designs, Mrs. Lewis ! 
 A scientific education will cost a power of money, 
 and it will be years after he starts, in the higher 
 walks — that's the phrase, is it not ? — before he 
 will be able to maintain himself Other people 
 can have lofty imaginings and aspirings, it seems, 
 as well as I, ' though they thank the gods they 
 are not poetical.' " 
 
 " It is to render our high aspirings for this 
 
 K 2
 
 132 THE ROSE OF ASHURST. 
 
 child just and rational that Walter labours and 
 I spare. I own we are ambitious for him ; but 
 our ambition is, surely, a right one. We think he 
 gives promise of first-rate ability. If it prove so, 
 we mean to leave nothing undone to secure every 
 advantage that can tend to the development of 
 that ability : therefore, we look forward betimes. 
 It is our only chance ; for money does not come 
 in very fast here. Surely, Paul, you must ac- 
 knowledge that there is nothing wrong in this 
 plan." 
 
 *' Oh certainly not, according to your prin- 
 ciples. For my part, I might, perhaps, wish 
 that society itself took charge of her more 
 valuable members, and left them not to the 
 chances of parental caprice. Well, well, every 
 one must ride their own hobby . . . but here 
 comes your husband at last." 
 
 A horse, with slow, wearied step, was heard 
 approaching the door. 
 
 A sort of labouring man appeared upon the 
 garden side of the house, the horse was led away,
 
 THE ROSE OF ASHURST. 133 
 
 and the door was opened for Mr. Lewis by his 
 
 wife. 
 
 r 
 " Dearest Walker ! I am so glad you are 
 
 come. How tired you look. There is a gentle- 
 man waiting for you." 
 
 " I am rather fagged. Did you say a gentle- 
 man was waiting for me ? I hope, dear Kate, 
 it is not a very difficult case ; for really, I feel as 
 if I had no sense left in me, I'm so wofuUy 
 tired. Ha, Paul ! what wind blows you here ?" 
 
 " Take a glass of wine, my love. Sit down 
 for one moment. I will step and see whether 
 the gentleman is awake. I laid him down upon 
 the sofa — for his hand — it's only a thorn in his 
 hand, after all — was dreadfully swelled. Sit 
 down a moment, and do take a glass of wine." 
 
 " And I'll pledge you," added Paul. *' Kate's 
 very stingy of her wine. She pretends three 
 glasses at a time are as much as wiU do any 
 man good ; but I'll take a fourth, and a fifth 
 too, if you say much, lady fair." 
 
 " Help yourself, Paul," said his brother ; " I'm
 
 134 THE ROSE OF ASHURST. 
 
 glad to see you any way — but how come you 
 here ?" 
 
 " Oh, I've a long story to tell you, Walter ; 
 but it's between you and me, please." 
 
 Mrs. Lewis had by this time entered the little 
 drawing-room ; the last words I heard Paul utter 
 were : " I'll not bother you with it now. — You 
 are the most generous of fellows, and wiU help 
 me, I know."
 
 THE ROSE OF ASHURST. 135 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 *' There she weaves both night and day 
 A magic web." 
 
 Tennyson. 
 
 Mrs. Lewis entered softly, and came up to 
 the side of the sofa upon which I lay. 
 
 " Have you been asleep, sir ? I hope your 
 hand is less painful." 
 
 " No, I have not been asleep ; and, Mrs. Lewis, 
 I have a confession to make to you. I could not 
 sleep ; and, having warned you that I was not 
 asleep, my conscience was laid at rest ; and as 
 I lay still, I could not but hear a good deal of
 
 136 THE ROSE OF ASHURST. 
 
 what was passing. I hope, as the man says in 
 the play, ' I did not intrude,' and that there was 
 no great harm done." 
 
 " No great harm," she said, somewhat coldly ; 
 " perhaps it was not quite fair — but you did warn 
 us." 
 
 " I did, indeed ; and having done so, and as 
 it was you yourself who left the door ajar, I was 
 irresistibly tempted to listen. Indeed, whether I 
 listened or not, I could not help hearing. I very 
 seriously beg you to forgive me for the impro- 
 priety of which I have been guilty." 
 
 "Think no more of it," she answered cheer- 
 fully. " I came to announce that Mr. Lewis is 
 arrived — will you see him, sir ?" 
 
 " As soon as he has rested a little. I heard, 
 among other things, that he was very much 
 tired. Pray, do not let me hurry him." 
 
 In a short time after this, Mr. Lewis was in- 
 troduced. 
 
 He was a man rather below than above the 
 middle size — well made and well proportioned ;
 
 THE ROSE OF ASHURST. 137 
 
 with a face refined and delicate, and with a mix- 
 ture of firmness, gentleness, intelligence, and 
 sweetness, in the expression, which was ex- 
 tremely pleasing. 
 
 I was interested by him in an instant, as I had 
 been by his wife and child. 
 
 " I am afraid this will prove rather an awk- 
 ward business," he said, after he had examined 
 my hand. " The thorn was a prodigiously large 
 one, and it is the thorn of an acacia, which leaves 
 a curious sort of venom behind it. I wonder 
 more notice has not been taken of the singu- 
 larity ; but the tree is not often used for firing in 
 this country, and people are seldom exposed to 
 accidents from the thorns. This is ugly. I am 
 afraid, sir, you must submit to rather a painful 
 operation. The thorn has gone right through 
 the ball of the thumb, and has broken short off 
 there." 
 
 " Well, of course, it must be got out. Can 
 you set about it immediately ?" 
 
 " Yes, I think it may be done. The swelling
 
 138 THE ROSE OF ASHURST. 
 
 is a good deal reduced. My dear, have a little 
 sal-volatile ready. We shall want somebody to 
 hold the hand. Paul, step here a moment." 
 
 And Paul entered. 
 
 He was somewhat taller, and still more ele- 
 gantly formed than his brother ; but the open, 
 ingenuous sweetness of Walter's countenance 
 contrasted strongly with the lowering, discon- 
 tented aspect of that of the other Yet beneath 
 this contracted brow it could not be denied that 
 eyes of extraordinary depth of expression flashed 
 and gleamed ; the mouth, however, was sensual 
 and ill-favoured: the character of the face, in 
 short, unpleasant, though the features w-ere 
 handsome enough. 
 
 " Paul — step this way. I want you to hold 
 the gentleman's hand firmly, whilst I perform a 
 rather painful operation." 
 
 Paul, I fancied, looked somewhat sulkily in- 
 clined ; nevertheless, he took hold of my hand 
 with a pair of his own, not particularly clean or 
 well kept, which looked the coarser and the
 
 THE ROSE OF ASHURST. 139 
 
 worse for being contrasted with the exquisite 
 delicacy of those of my young surgeon and his 
 nice wife. 
 
 The operation was performed with much care 
 and skill. It was an extremely painful one, 
 considering how trifling the accident had been. 
 I am forced to own, that I fainted aw^ay twice, 
 and felt so unaccountably ill, after it was over, 
 that I scarcely knew what to do. I was tho- 
 roughly ashamed of my weakness. 
 
 I really could scarcely stand when I strove to 
 rise, and was obliged to lay myself down upon 
 the sofa again. 
 
 How to move was the next question. 
 
 " Something more than the hand will quite 
 account for is the matter here, I think," said 
 Walter. " Did you fall, sir, as you were climb- 
 ing about after my Httle naturahst's bees'- nest ? 
 Your system seems more generally shook and 
 deranged than the accident to the hand will 
 justfy." 
 
 " Yes, now 1 remember, I had an awkward
 
 140 THE ROSE OF ASHURST. 
 
 sort of head-foremost tumble as I came down 
 the bank again. It made the children laugh." 
 
 " Did you hit your head ?" 
 
 " Yes, now you ask me, I have an impression 
 that I did — but really, my hand began to ache 
 so furiously, that I forgot everything else." 
 
 " I am afraid, sir, we must lay an embargo 
 upon you for some little time. I think it would 
 not be quite safe to move you even so far as to 
 your inn — the King Charles, I presume. I 
 think, if you will accept of such accommodation 
 as we can afford here, it will be better." 
 
 I caught a glimpse of Paul's face as Walter 
 spoke thus ; the eyebrows raised and the 
 shoulders elevated, with a look supercilious and 
 amused ; — rightly interpreted, it said, — 
 
 " Well done, brother — understand your busi- 
 ness, I see. Don't meet with a gentleman patient 
 every day. Make the most of him." 
 
 " But have you a bed to spare ? There is 
 your brother " 
 
 " Oh, pray, sir, don't cast away the remotest
 
 THE ROSE OF ASHURST. 141 
 
 thought upon me. I can accommodate myself 
 in the cock-loft — in the barn — anywhere — can't 
 I, Kate r 
 
 " Or, rather," said she, " if this gentleman 
 will allow of it, you can occupy his bed at the 
 inn, and give up to him the one you usually 
 have here. I dare say, sir, after a good 
 night's rest, you will be quite yourself, and 
 ready to resume your more comfortable quarters 
 again." 
 
 " Just let it be as you please, if it be equally 
 agreeable to Mr. Paul, whom I am sorry to put 
 to inconvenience." 
 
 " No inconvenience to me, sir, thank you. I 
 am not accustomed to study my own conve- 
 venience much, or to expect others to do 
 so." 
 
 " Will you go to bed, then, immediately ?" 
 said Walter. " You had better ; and we will 
 keep the house perfectly quiet. I am anxious 
 you should sleep. Kate, have the bed made 
 ready ; and, brother, stay till you have helped
 
 142 THE ROSE OF ASHURST. 
 
 me to assist this gentleman up stairs ; then you 
 and I will go down and sup at the King 
 Charles, for really this is such a tiny bit of a 
 place, that there is no keeping it still but by 
 fairly emptying it." 
 
 " Be it so," said Paul ; " I will betake myself 
 to the surgery till such time as my services are 
 required. I suppose it is forbidden to smoke a 
 cigar within these sacred precincts ?" 
 
 " Why, really, brother, you know we don't 
 like it." 
 
 "Then, if you think good, I will go and 
 smoke mine under the usual tree, and you will 
 call me when you want me." And with that 
 he took himself away. 
 
 Mrs. Lewis presently returned, saying my bed 
 was prepared ; and to a bed most comfortable, 
 and a little chamber most sweet, and neat, and 
 pretty, I was helped by my host and his bro- 
 ther. I was then undressed and laid down in 
 bed, and had an anodyne draught given me ; 
 and I had no sooner rested my head upon my
 
 THE ROSE OF ASHURST. 143 
 
 pillow, than I fell fast asleep, and heard nothing 
 more of them, nor of anything, until between 
 five and six o'clock upon the following morn- 
 ing.
 
 144 THE ROSE OF ASHURST. 
 
 CHAPTER VL 
 
 " Or the yellow banded bees, 
 Through half-open lattics 
 Coming in the scented breeze." 
 
 Tennyson. 
 
 This small house had most inconveniently 
 thin walls. It was as the palace of truth, — no- 
 thing could be concealed here — and, most un- 
 willingly, I was obliged to share in another 
 confidence which it was still more impossible to 
 avoid than that of the day before, and this at a 
 very early hour the next morning. 
 
 The rays of the sun shot through the little 
 white dimity window-curtains ; and, through the
 
 THE ROSE OF ASHURST. 145 
 
 casement, which had been left purposely open, 
 came the rustling sound of leaves, and the sing- 
 ing and chirping of birds ; and the lowing of 
 herds, and sheep, and lambs, mingling with 
 distant voices; and all the pleasant stir of a 
 summer morning. I lay some time half awake, 
 half asleep, listening to the cheerful harmony, in 
 a state of agreeable drowsiness. 
 
 I indulged in this enviable, dreamy state some 
 time, scarcely distinguishing one from another 
 the sounds that came mingled in so agree- 
 able a confusion. The house was as yet, to all 
 appearance, still ; but by-and-by, a murmuring of 
 voices reached me, but proceeding from what 
 place I could not for the life of me distinguish. 
 The truth was, as I have reason to believe, that 
 my ear must have been preternaturally sharp- 
 ened by the state of my nerves, so that I caught 
 the words distinctly, of what would otherwise 
 have reached me only as an inarticulate murmur, 
 and, in this instance, most innocently and un- 
 avoidably, overheard yet another conversation. 
 VOL. I. L
 
 146 THE ROSE OF ASHURST. 
 
 There was first a long indistinct discourse, 
 of which I caught nothing ; then I heard a low, 
 sweet voice in reply. 
 
 "I do not quite agree with you, dearest Wal- 
 ter, but I am sure that what you decide upon 
 will be wise and right." 
 
 " And I doubt very much, Kate of my heart, 
 that anything in which you do not quite agree 
 with me can be either wise or right." 
 ''Ah! flatterer." 
 
 " Not very much of that — but, to own the 
 truth, I have my misgivings myself; and yet — - 
 to urge a man of his abilities to continue 
 drudging on in an employment at once so ser- 
 vile and uninteresting — so inconsistent with all 
 the higher flights and aspirations of a soul like 
 his, does seem to me, I confess, something bor- 
 dering upon cruelty." 
 
 " And yet you drudge yourself." 
 *' It is not exactly a parallel case. — In the 
 first place, we do not resemble each other in 
 many respects, I am far from possessing his
 
 THE ROSE OF ASHURST. 14? 
 
 fine parts, for one thing. Moreover, my occu- 
 pation is what I delight in — my drudgery is 
 a labour of love, 
 
 " I doubt whether any labour would be one 
 of love to PauL'* 
 
 " Don't be severe upon him, dear child ; you 
 know it is hardly fair to measure him exactly bv 
 the same standard as other men." 
 
 " Perhaps not. But would it not be better 
 if he did not think so much of that himself"? Is 
 it safe in this world to begin life with looking 
 upon one's self as an exception — above and ex- 
 empted from common rules, and the everyday 
 virtues of prudence, forethought, and industry ?'' 
 
 " But it seems impossible to make him look 
 at things in this way, which, after all, is perhaps 
 rather an interested way. There are some 
 mounting spirits that find it impossible to 
 square their lives by selfish, or by what they 
 think to be selfish, mere prudential, and there- 
 fore, in their estimation, base considerations." 
 
 " Selfish ! base ! to labour for one's own in- 
 
 L 2
 
 148 THE ROSE OF ASHURST. 
 
 dependence — to labour not to be a burden, but, 
 wben need arrives, to be a help to others !" 
 
 " Why, my love, that last is what, just at 
 this moment, I was wishing to be." 
 
 " Ah ! you well deserve that pleasure. Dear 
 Walter, do me the justice to believe, that I 
 would not have a word to say, did I believe that 
 by your generous liberality you were for^varding 
 your brother's real interests; but I doubt, I 
 doubt." 
 
 " Of one thing, my dear, there cannot be a 
 doubt, that to pen a genius such as he is behind 
 a counter, measuring tapes and laces, is to put 
 Pegasus into a dung-cart — he cannot, and he 
 will not, draw\" 
 
 " Ah 1 that will not . . . /' 
 " You would not have him do it ? He has 
 tried, poor fellow ! he has been there eighteen 
 months — but the confinement is irksome, is in- 
 supportable. He was made * to hear the lark 
 sing, not the mouse cheep,' as he says — indeed, 
 my love, I cannot help sympathising with him."
 
 THE ROSE OF ASHURST. 149 
 
 " And well you may. You are a thousand 
 times more of a real poet than he is." 
 
 " Who talked of flattering ?" 
 
 "A real poet," she said, raising her voice, 
 and warming as she spoke, " is not one who 
 merely spins rhymes — he may never have made 
 a verse in his life. No ! he is one blessed with 
 an eye to look far into the hidden, secret beauty 
 of things, one, whose ideal is lofty, noble, and 
 most precious, because it is just — because it is 
 true wisdom in its finest development — good- 
 ness in its loveliest form. The true poet sees 
 better than other men — knows better than other 
 men — feels better than other men — should be 
 better than other men — but that poet is not 
 Paul, but Walter." 
 
 " And if Walter be all these fine things, then 
 believe, love, that his sympathy with Paul arises, 
 probably, because in his secret soul he sees, 
 knows, and feels, as a poet can scarcely help 
 feeling." 
 
 " Ah, Walter ! do as you please — do as you
 
 150 THE ROSE OF ASHURST. 
 
 think best. I will never, never contradict you. 
 Perhaps you are right — perhaps there is in Paul 
 what you say, though I confess I cannot see it — 
 but you are his brother ; you must understand 
 each other as only children of the same blood 
 can do. But to return to our moutons. What 
 does he purpose to do ?" 
 
 " To get released from Mr. Hownsh, and ob- 
 tain some other employment." 
 
 " Two difficulties to begin with — how is he 
 to get released from Mr. Ho wish ? and how is 
 he to obtain some other employment? I am 
 afraid that every employment in which he has 
 to cross his own inclination will be alike dis- 
 tasteful to him . . . and what employment is there 
 to be found in the world in which a man does 
 not find it necessary, more or less, to cross his 
 own inclination ?" 
 
 " There are differences in degree, as you will 
 admit, at least. And really one can scarcely ima- 
 gine any employment in the world less calculated 
 for a young man like Paul, than to stand behind
 
 THE ROSE OF ASHURST. 151 
 
 the counter of a large shop in the heart of the 
 City, where the sweet breath of heaven and the 
 very rays of God's blessed sun scarcely enter. I 
 cannot think how good Mr. Strickland could 
 think of putting him there. It certainly was a 
 great mistake." 
 
 " Why, you know, dear Walter, say and do 
 what Mr. Strickland would, he never could get 
 Paul to apply. I believe he promised him over 
 and over again — seeing that he was a boy 
 of talents above the common order — that he 
 would place him in some occupation either be- 
 longing to the law, the church, or medicine, 
 that would give scope for the employment of 
 his faculties — if he would but apply and render 
 himself fit for it. But you know nothing would 
 induce Paul to set seriously to work — to labour 
 — drudge, if you will, as people must labour 
 who hope to succeed. Nothing could persuade 
 him to cross his inclination for wasting his 
 time in vain, aimless wanderings, whether of 
 mind or body."
 
 152 THE ROSE OF ASHURST. 
 
 A pause of a few seconds, but the husband 
 made no answer. Kate went on. " He was 
 unfit for any profession. Not pious enough 
 for the church, not industrious enough for 
 the law, still less calculated for medicine. He 
 was excessively affronted when Mr. Strickland 
 proposed the shop, assuring him that there 
 he would be in the way of making himself inde- 
 pendent, and might, as he added, write poetry 
 as he went along. But what better could Mr. 
 Strickland have done for him, though he might, 
 perhaps, have expressed himself less sarcasti- 
 cally ; but Mr. Strickland, we all know, has his 
 peculiarities. Paul was more angry at the in- 
 sult to his muse, as he called it, than at all 
 the rest — don't you remember? — But reaUy 
 I think Mr. Strickland was not so very far 
 wrong. The sort of mechanical occupation in 
 which Paul is employed, allows plenty of time 
 for thought. If he be a true poet, he will find 
 inspiration visit him even behina the counter ; 
 and in the meantime, he has his salary, is inde-
 
 THE ROSE OF ASHURST. 153 
 
 pendent, and in the way to gradual advance- 
 ment. Mr. Howish is an admirable man, so 
 just, and kind, and generous, — Paul has such a 
 pattern before his eyes, such a master to serve, — 
 what a privilege ! In serving him, Paul is 
 serving a true servant of the Great Master." 
 
 " Very true, my dear, if Paul could but see it 
 in the light that you do ; but he cannot, and 
 there's an end of it." 
 
 " But he must, for what is he to do ?" 
 
 " That is exactly the question — what is he to 
 do? A previous one, however, is unluckily 
 already answered, what he will not do. Stay 
 with Mr. Howish that he is resolved not to do." 
 
 " But suppose he must — oh ! must is a whole- 
 some word." 
 
 "Not one that Paul will endure. If I will 
 not get him out of this scrape respectably, he 
 threatens to break his pledge, make his escape, 
 run away, and 'list for a soldier." 
 
 " Forfeit his word ! his solemn engagement ! 
 Oh, Walter ! Walter ! this can never be — he
 
 154 THE ROSE OF ASHURST. 
 
 cannot be so dishonourable, so base — prove him- 
 self so utterly unworthy of all Mr. Strickland 
 has done for him." 
 
 " It is astonishing how minds, acute as his, 
 are able, by a perverted sort of reasoning, to 
 dress up actions which, seen in their true co- 
 lours, would disgust every right-minded man, — 
 disguising their native deformity, so as to make 
 very mean actions appear to their imaginations 
 not only blameless, but praiseworthy. You should 
 hear Paul enlarge upon the gifts he has received, 
 upon the injustice to himself and others, of 
 burying his talents in a napkin. He even quotes 
 Scripture to justify himself — an authority in- 
 tended to silence you and me ; for I don't 
 think he uses Scripture much to guide him- 
 self. However, the long and the short of it 
 is, dear Kate, that Paul views the matter of 
 breaking his engagements, and running away 
 without paying the stipulated forfeit, in a totally 
 different hght from what you or I do. He 
 says he stands absolved to his own conscience,
 
 THE BOSE OF ASHURST. 155 
 
 because it was taking a base, unfair advan- 
 tage, upon the part of Mr. Howish, to exact 
 such promise and forfeit ; though, as you know, 
 it is his established rule, and surely he has a 
 right to lay down what rules he pleases, in the 
 management of his own concerns — but Paul 
 cannot, or will not, view it in that light ; and I 
 see plainly will not be withheld by any scruples. 
 He harangues upon the duties man owes to himself 
 and to society, and asserts that his first duty to 
 both is, as he phrases it, to respect the image of 
 God reflected in his own intellect and genius — 
 He maintains that power abused, it is lawful to 
 resist by every means that Nature has put into 
 our hands — that Howish abused his power in the 
 conditions he exacted — and that Mr. Strickland 
 was a tyrant and an oppressor to suffer him to 
 be bound by them ; and so he arrives at the 
 conclusion that if nobody will step forward to 
 release him in the usual way, he is justified in 
 breaking his engagement in his own way, and 
 he ends, in short, by repeating the old threat,
 
 156 THE ROSE OF ASHURST. 
 
 that he will run away and 'list for a soldier. 
 What is to be done with a reasoner like this ?" 
 
 The wife was silent for a few minutes ; then 
 she said, " My dear Walter, if it be so, there 
 is but one thing to be done — Mr. Howish must 
 not be ill-used. Paul must not be allowed to 
 act dishonourably — the forfeit must far rather 
 be paid ; and there is only one person to pay it, 
 and that is yourself." 
 
 " My darling ! my angel ! my better angel ! 
 And that two hundred pounds so carefully and 
 industriously laid by ! and that life insurance 
 that you refused to accept for yourself, that we 
 might hoard all we could for the object so near 
 both our hearts — the education of our promising 
 little boy !— all to go !" 
 
 " Better anything than honour." 
 
 " Ah, my love ! my treasure ! my darUng ! 
 It makes my very heart bleed to accept such a 
 sacrifice from you." 
 
 ** Oh ! let us cheer up. Let us be thankful 
 we have the means. I quite — quite see it. I
 
 THE ROSE OF ASHURST. 15? 
 
 know Paul of old. He has, as you truly say, 
 such a strange power of perverting reason, jus- 
 tice, truth, everything. He quite confuses one 
 at times with what must be — what one knows — 
 is sophistry ; and how can we wonder that he 
 convinces himself? Ah ! it is a difficult task 
 to reason any one out of their inclination — -how 
 impossible with such an ingenious sophist as 
 Paul." 
 
 " But you — your boy — your self-denial — your 
 forethought !" 
 
 " Oh ! don't take it so. Work away cheerily, 
 and I will work away cheerily. We shall soon 
 make it up. We must give up the idea of help 
 in the surgery this year : I must be 'poticary's 
 boy still, and there is not a cuter in Christen- 
 dom, rU be bound, though I say it that should 
 not say it ; and you must jog it away still upon 
 old Nell — rather a discreditable steed, because her 
 very mane tells the story of a not very flourishing 
 practice ; but we shall flourish, mane or no mane. 
 We'll soon make it up — such a clever man as you
 
 158 THE ROSE OF ASHURST. 
 
 are, Walter ! — and the child is not five — Four or 
 ^ve good years yet, before we need think of send- 
 ing him to school ; and we'll manage some way, 
 so that he shall not lose time. When weVe got 
 somebody in the shop, I shall have leisure to 
 teach him myself, and you'll begin his Latin ; 
 or we'll get Miss Priestly to give him a lesson, 
 if we're not rich enough to send him to school 
 for this next three or four years. Dearest Wal- 
 ter, forgive me if I made difficulties. I would 
 have done anything in the world to prevent this 
 fatal step, if possible ; but if it can't be pre- 
 vented, there is but one way left — we must lose 
 everything, fors Vhonneur" 
 
 I had slept like an infant ; but it was partly 
 owing to the draught administered, which did 
 its office blandly and well. 
 
 I had, however, awakened early, as I said, 
 and the conversation I had overheard had ex- 
 cited me in quite an unreasonable manner.
 
 THE ROSE OF ASHURST. 159 
 
 What between rage and admiration, I was quite 
 in a ferment : my pulse began to gallop at a 
 furious pace, and my hand to pain me ex- 
 tremely. 
 
 Mr. Lewis knocked gently at my door. 
 
 " Who's there ? — I am awake. Come in !" 
 
 " How have you slept ? You look flushed 
 and hurried. Has anything come amiss ? I 
 hope you have not been disturbed. — " 
 
 " Oh ! no ; but my hand is certainly very 
 painful." 
 
 " You are an excitable subject, sir, I see. 
 You must keep yourself as quiet as you can." 
 
 "I am not a very strong person — I never 
 was. My enemies call me delicate. I have 
 worked hard to walk off this delicacy — I thought 
 I had succeeded." 
 
 " Not altogether, 1 am afraid. The wounds 
 look ugly. It is astonishing what ill conse- 
 quences sometimes result from apparently very 
 trifling accidents. I would advise you to keep 
 your bed for to-day."
 
 160 THE ROSE OF ASHURST. 
 
 " But what a bore I shall be to you ! — and what 
 a bother it is to stay a whole day in bed !" 
 
 " A greater bother to be laid up for a week ; 
 and this is what you will have to submit to, and 
 I will not say what more, if you do not keep 
 quiet to-day. It will prove far the shortest 
 method in the end. Mrs. Lewis will bring you 
 up some breakfast ; and we will make you as 
 comfortable as circumstances will admit." 
 
 " But I fear I shall inconvenience Mrs. Lewis 
 very much." 
 
 " She is not easily inconvenienced. She will 
 do the best she can. I am only sorry our ac- 
 commodation is no better." 
 
 " Oh ! what are you talking of ?" 
 
 " Shall I open the window a little more ? 
 The room is close and small." 
 
 " By all means — thank you." 
 
 And he pushed the casement window wide 
 open, and in rushed the sweet air in volumes. 
 
 The casement was not two feet from my bed. 
 As I lay upon my pillow, I could look out upon
 
 THE ROSE OF ASHURST. 161 
 
 the fresh and delicious scene that spread out 
 before it — the charnaing green of the garden 
 and the lovely champaign beyond. — 
 
 Mr. Lewis apphed the necessary dressing to 
 the wound, which I confess looked astonishingly 
 ugly ; and then he went down stairs, and pre- 
 sently I heard Nell conie out of her shed of a 
 stable, and the young surgeon mounted and rode 
 away. 
 
 Directly afterwards, Mrs. Lewis appeared with 
 my breakfast, carrying it upon a little waiter 
 covered with a napkin,* — everything exquisiteb 
 neat and clean. 
 
 I forgot to say that Mr. Lewis had himself 
 smoothed my bed, and shook up and arranged 
 my pillows, in a way most comfortable to me. 
 
 The breakfast tasted to me delicious ; the tea 
 so nice and good, the bread and butter so 
 sweet — 
 
 " This is all you are to be allowed to-day," 
 said Mrs. Lewis, as she set down the small 
 waiter upon a round table by the side of my 
 
 VOL. I. M
 
 162 THE ROSE OF ASHURST. 
 
 bed ; *' to-morrow I hope to mend your diet a 
 
 little." 
 
 " What on earth can mend this ? Pray 
 
 don't stand waiting — I can't bear to see you 
 
 standing. Won't you sit down ?" 
 
 " No, thank you, sir. I am rather busy this 
 
 morning ; so, if you will give me leave, I will 
 
 leave your breakfast, and come again in a few 
 
 minutes, in hopes you will take another cup of 
 
 tea.'' 
 
 " May I have the other window open ?" 
 There were two : the room was at the 
 
 corner of the house. There was one casement 
 
 opening into the garden, the other to the little 
 
 public square. 
 
 " There is no objection, if you will not have 
 
 too much air, or be disturbed by the noises of 
 
 dogs and children— though it is pretty quiet at 
 
 this time of day." 
 
 " Such noises will only amuse me." 
 
 " Will you not like to have a book ?" 
 
 " Very much indeed. What books can I 
 
 have ?"
 
 THE ROSE OF ASHURST. 163 
 
 " We have no very great choice. Mr. Lewis's 
 books are chiefly upon professional or scientific 
 subjects. I could borrow a novel, perhaps, from 
 Mrs. Grant." 
 
 " Oh ! I will not give you the trouble. Mr„ 
 Lewis is a great botanist, I think I have heard. 
 I want to know something of botany myself. 
 Have you any book for a beginner ?" 
 
 " I will endeavour to find what will suit 
 you 1" 
 
 I looked at her face all this time, endeavour- 
 ing to discover the traces of anxiety or vex- 
 ation. But there was nothing of the sort to be 
 seen. There was, perhaps, a little more gravity 
 than the evening before — that was all. 
 
 She presently returned. Her little boy was 
 following on tiptoe behind her, looking extremely 
 good, and careful not to make the least noise. 
 
 " I have ventured to let Fabian bring you 
 the book," she said : " he wished so much to do 
 something for you, because you were hurt in 
 your great good nature about his bee."
 
 164 THE ROSE OF ASHURST. 
 
 " Come in, my little fellow. Thank you for 
 the book. This will do quite well." 
 
 " Is your hand very bad ?" said the little boy, 
 coming to the bed side, with much feeling in his 
 childish face. " I'm so very sorry." 
 
 " Oh ! it will soon be well ; but I'm vexed 
 we did not get the bee." 
 
 " I don't mind the bee, now. It's made you 
 bad. I'm so sorry." 
 
 " Thank you. And what are you going to 
 do with yourself to-day, my man ?" 
 
 " I'm going first to school — see, here are my 
 books in my little bag, mamma gave me ; and 
 then mamma says Amy and me may go to Job, 
 and beg him for a little basket of strawberries. 
 I know who it's for, but I mustn't tell you.'" 
 
 " Oh, don't teU me, by any means — I shall 
 so enjoy some strawberries." 
 
 " Very well then, I'll make haste to school 
 and be a good boy, and then Job'U give me 
 plenty for you, if I tell him what a bad hand 
 you've got, and how good-natured you are."
 
 THE ROSE OF ASHURST. 165 
 
 " You chatter - box," said his mother, re- 
 entering the rooiBj " you will tire the gentle- 
 man." 
 
 "No madam, he amuses me. He's a very 
 nice sharp little boy." 
 
 " Do you hear that, Fabian ?" said his mo- 
 ther, who seemed always upon the watch to 
 prevent him receiving any evil impression. 
 
 " He says I'm a nice, sharp boy, mamma ; 
 and I'm sure I am.'* 
 
 " Then remember and keep so. To be nice, 
 you must be kind and obliging; to be sharp^ 
 you must be industrious, and mind what you 
 are about." 
 
 And so they went away, and I could hear 
 her in the next room, putting on his little 
 hat and pinafore, and washing his hands, and 
 many kisses and laughs, and merry jokes, pass- 
 ing between them — next his little joyous hop was 
 heard down each stair, and then his shout of 
 delight as he spied Amy at a short distance, 
 coming to meet him — lastly, I heard the " great,
 
 166 THE ROSE OF ASHURST. 
 
 big kiss " given to his mother ; and away he 
 went, the door of the house was shut, and all 
 became as still as slumber, for I will not say 
 death : it was not in the least like the stillness 
 of death.
 
 THE ROSE OF ASHURST. 167 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 " Waver'd aloft, o*erburden'd but to fall, 
 To flutter in the miry ways of life." 
 
 W. C. Bennett. 
 
 I TOOK Up my book and began to read a 
 most charming introduction to botany, written 
 by that enchanter in language, Rousseau. It 
 is enough to tempt any one to enter that por- 
 tal of knowledge — I was quite bewitched by it. 
 
 Nevertheless, the charm could not prevent 
 me interrupting my lecture from time to time, 
 to look out into the garden, which was so sweet 
 and fresh-looking — neatly kept though not with
 
 168 THE ROSE OF ASHURST. 
 
 any particular fancy or marks of unusual at- 
 tention — the good missis being too busy to have 
 much time to bestow upon it. 
 
 Everything remained perfectly quiet for more 
 than an hour. At last I heard a small gate at 
 the further end of the garden open, and a young 
 man entered. 
 
 I soon discovered that it was that genius and 
 poet, Paul. 
 
 He was dressed in a rather fashionable morn- 
 ing costume : at least his coat, which, to my 
 somewhat experienced eye, was evidently the cut 
 of an inferior hand, was vulgarised by an at- 
 tempt at the extreme mode of the day, which 
 was, of course, exaggerated, and, to a nice eye, 
 caricatured. The waistcoat, lower clothing, and 
 all the rest of it were in the same taste, and 
 were in keeping with the lounging, easy, some- 
 what affected gait of this wonder of the world, 
 who came sauntering on with his hat placed jaun- 
 tily upon one side of his head. In short, there 
 was that je ne sgais quoi of vulgarity in his
 
 THE ROSE OF ASHURST. 169 
 
 whole appearance, which one detects in an in- 
 stant, but cannot exactly define — that vulgarity, 
 in its quintessence, which proceeds from affec- 
 tation, pretension, and ignorance of good man- 
 ners, combined. 
 
 In describing his appearance the night be- 
 fore, I forgot to notice his Henri Quatre upon 
 the chin, which, surmounted by the cigar he was 
 now smoking, gave the finishing touch to my 
 disgust. 
 
 But I really had taken such an aversion, rea- 
 sonable or unreasonable, to Master Paul, that I 
 was not an equitable judge. Probably he did 
 not appear half so insupportable to other people 
 as he did to me. I am such a terrible hater of 
 some descriptions of persons and things. 
 
 I was half mad with rage and disgust, as I 
 saw him come strolling up the little garden, with 
 his ineffable air of self-complacency, puffing away 
 at his cigar, negligently stooping, from time to 
 time, to examine a flower, or affectedly raising 
 his genius-lighted eyes to heaven. Finally he
 
 170 THE ROSE OF ASHURST. 
 
 settled himself down upon a garden seat just in 
 view, and sunk into a comfortable half doze. 
 
 The irritation thus produced did my hand so 
 much harm, that I was at last fairly obliged to 
 turn away and endeavour to fix my attention 
 upon my book ; but it was in vain — that odious 
 phantom pursued me. 
 
 And he, all the while dozing away so at his 
 ease in the sun, enjoying the sweet May morn- 
 ing, as if May mornings were made for such as 
 him ! 
 
 Presently I heard him give voice. 
 
 " Biddy, pray what o'clock is it ?" as the girl 
 entered the garden for a little parsley. 
 
 " Going upon one, sir." 
 
 " Biddy, my dear, come here. When will 
 there be luncheon ?" 
 
 " There's no regular luncheon, sir, as you 
 know, in this house. Missis takes a bit of 
 bread, if she happen to want it. Master Fabian 
 takes his dinner to school with him." 
 
 " Biddy, my soul savoureth the idea of a crust
 
 THE ROSE OF ASHURST. l7l 
 
 of bread; but that dry crust requireth some- 
 thing wherewith to wash it down. Hast such 
 a thing as a drop of brandy, or maybe gin, 
 in thy kitchen, to flavour a mince pie or make 
 pudding sauce, eh?" 
 
 " My stars, sir ! why Missis would not let 
 there be a drop of brandy in the house, ex- 
 cept in the surgery, for anything." 
 
 '* There is brandy in the surgery, then, 
 Biddy ? Til be bound you know by experi- 
 ence how that said brandy could be got at, 
 upon an occasion of life or death, let us sup- 
 pose." 
 
 " No, sir, that I don't, nor never did. It's 
 kept locked up. I don't know what you mean 
 sir." 
 
 " Why, I mean, Biddy, that I suppose if a 
 fellow- creature, or even yourself — poor, fragile 
 Biddy ! — were dying for a drop of the good 
 creature, you could get at it, eh ! dear ?" 
 
 " I'm sure I couldn't ; and as for myself, sir, 
 I'm none so frage — what do you call it ? But
 
 172 THE ROSE OF ASHURST. 
 
 I*m an honest girl, and never had a drop of 
 brandy between my lips since 1 was born. No, 
 I hadn't, and I wonder you're not ashamed to 
 talk in such a fashion to a poor girl like me, 
 sir." 
 
 " Immaculate Biddy ! I beg your pardon ; 
 but needs must, and the need is great with 
 me .... so, to cut the matter short, Biddy, if 
 you can't get a poor suffering fellow-creature a' 
 little brandy and water out of the surgery — 
 why — you must get it from somewhere else, 
 that's all ; for the long and the short of it is, 
 I am perishing for want of some — and will 
 have it." 
 
 " You're at your old tricks, sir, I see ; but 
 I won't never do such a thing for you no more. 
 Missis will find me out, some of these days, and 
 I'll lose a good place for it, sir." 
 
 " High principled, disinterested creature !" 
 " I wish you'd be civil, and not call names." 
 " I will, so thou wilt minister to my need. 
 Here, Biddy — here's half-a- crown. Get me a
 
 THE ROSE OF ASHURST. 173 
 
 tumbler of cold brandy and water — pretty stiff, 
 mind — smuggle it in for me, in through that 
 convenient wicket at the bottom of the garden 
 there, put the surplus pence in thy pocket, and 
 mum's the word." 
 
 " You're a very naughty young man, sir, and 
 you'll come to no good at last, that I'll be 
 sworn." 
 
 But I heard her go down the garden, and out 
 by the little back gate. ', 
 
 I began to feel my hand growing very bad. 
 Anger always particularly disagrees with me. 
 
 I turned my face from the window and endea- 
 voured to give my attention to Rousseau and his 
 botany in vain. By the sort of fascination which 
 vexation exercises over us, my eyes, in spite of my- 
 self, turned to the window again, from which I be- 
 held my young gentleman still smoking his cigar 
 with much apparent complacency. Presently ap- 
 peared Biddy again upon the opposite side of the 
 fence, looking stealthily round her, before opening 
 the gate which led up the garden walk. She had
 
 174 THE ROSE OF ASHURST. 
 
 something in her hand covered over by the end of 
 her shawl, which, upon seeing the coast clear, 
 she produced, and displayed a large tumbler of 
 very dark- coloured stuff, which I concluded was 
 the brandy and water required. 
 
 " I didn't get it from the King Charles," said 
 she, " fear Mrs. Tilley should be basking ques- 
 tions. I went down street, to the Cat and 
 Fiddle — they make no bones there — it's that's 
 kept me so long." 
 
 " You did excellently well, so here's to your 
 good health, fair Biddy." 
 
 " Bless you, drink it off and make haste ! 
 Missis may be here in no time, and catch 
 us." 
 
 "It's rather ordinary stuff they sell at this 
 same Cat and Fiddle, I see ; but never mind — 
 stimulus is everything — the form in which it is 
 administered, a mere trifle to the true philoso- 
 pher. Here, Miss, take the glass — not left a 
 drop for you, 'cause of perverting your morals, 
 you see."
 
 THE ROSE OF ASHURST. l75 
 
 " My morals ! It would be as well if some 
 folks looked after their own," remarked Biddy, 
 pertly. 
 
 And so saying, she left the garden. 
 
 The young man whistled, took out a rather 
 handsome cigar case, struck his light, lighted a 
 fresh cigar with due care and deliberation, set- 
 tled himself once more comfortably upon the 
 garden seat, drew a newspaper from his pocket, 
 and began to read. 
 
 This newspaper being left behind upon his 
 departure, I had an opportunity of ascertaining 
 the nature of his studies. 
 
 I am not quite sure that I recollect the title 
 accurately, but I think the paper was called the 
 English Freeman. It was a compound of per- 
 nicious stuff. Filled with rash and ignorant 
 assertions, supported by most shallow, incon- 
 clusive reasoning, but couched in language suffi- 
 ciently correct and good, — nay, at times, ap- 
 proaching to the eloquent. It was evidently 
 written with design to ensure a wide circulation,
 
 176 THE ROSE OF ASHURST. 
 
 by flattering the vanity and ministering to the 
 worst passions of that class from whom it was 
 expected to find readers — to the pride and pre- 
 sumption of ignorance, to the obstinacy and self- 
 conceit of indolence, to the selfishness which 
 pervades human nature — false in its premises, 
 absurd in its con elusions, but sophistical and plau- 
 sible. It was exactly calculated to mislead the 
 ignorant and the self-sufficient — self-sufficient 
 through their ignorance. It was admirably 
 suited to the imperfect moral calibre of those 
 addressed, and especially adapted to nourish that 
 belief — to which man is so prone, and of which 
 he is so fond — that success is not the natural 
 reward of persevering and -laborious industry, 
 self-denial, and skill, but the result of accidents of 
 birth, or position, or else bestowed by favouritism, 
 injustice, and tyranny : assuming, as a matter of 
 course, that the tried are inferior to the untried, 
 and that every man who does nothing, only 
 w^anted opportunity to do better than any of those 
 who actually effect something — a conclusion
 
 THE ROSE OF ASHURST. 177 
 
 most acceptable to every man's self-love, and par- 
 ticularly to that of those who have not yet found 
 opportunity for displaying their pov^ers — or 
 rather, I should say, making their want of ability 
 evident — a theory which only a year or two gone 
 by — in the Revolution of 1848 — was put to 
 the proof, as if to exhibit the full force of its 
 absurdity, moral and intellectual. 
 
 Hov/ easy it is to declaim, and how difficult 
 to act ! How pleasant to sit by and abuse those 
 who have to act ! Every one knows how agree- 
 able and how easy it is to rate oneself as wiser, 
 better, and more capable than those who have 
 laboured a thousand times more than we 
 have ! — But I am getting into a passion, in- 
 stead of telling a story. Excuse me; I have 
 done. 
 
 About an hour had now elapsed, which had 
 been spent by my young man now in studying his 
 newspaper ; now in silent abstraction, smoking 
 his cigar, sometimes lifting up his eyes — a very 
 handsome pair, by-the-bye — to heaven ; some- 
 
 VOL. I. N
 
 178 THE ROSE OF ASHURST. 
 
 times tracing figures upon the walk with an 
 elegant little cane which he carried in his 
 hand. 
 
 At last the wicket was heard again to open ; 
 he turned round, saw his brother, Walter Lewis, 
 enter the garden, and rising, sauntered care- 
 lessly down the walk to meet him. 
 
 I had not heard Nell return to her stable. I 
 think I must have been dozing or sleeping a part 
 of the time. 
 
 " Come back!" exclaimed Paul; "I thought 
 you had ridden out to Moreton-in-the-Marsh, 
 and would not be home till dinner-time." 
 
 *' I had gone about half-way, but something 
 came into my head, and made me think better of 
 it. I wanted to have a little talk with you, and I 
 did not wish to lose time, as I hope you are 
 going to return to London by the night coach, 
 so as to be ready for business to-morrow morn- 
 
 ing." 
 
 " I ! I was not thinking of it." 
 
 " But, my dear Paul, what are you thinking
 
 THE ROSE OF ASHURST. 179 
 
 of? You are absent without leave, as it seems ; 
 you will get into difficulties ; you will get dis- 
 graced — dismissed." 
 
 " Disgraced 1 I rather defy a haberdasher, 
 howevor long his counter, to disgrace me. Dis- 
 missed ! I wish to Jove he would dismiss 
 me." 
 
 " Paul !" 
 
 " Well, what is there so very bad in that, 
 that you put such a saint-like face of abhor- 
 rence on ?" 
 
 " I have been thinking all the way as I rode 
 along, upon what you were saying last night ; 
 and the more I reflect upon it, the more vexed 
 and annoyed I feel. You cannot be serious, bro- 
 ther, in either the resolution you declared openly 
 then, or the design you insinuate now. You 
 cannot intend to defy all the laws of honour and 
 good principle, by running away from your in- 
 dentures ; or, what would be almost worse, de- 
 signedly getting rid of them by such a course of 
 conduct as will make your master content to 
 
 N 2
 
 180 THE ROSE OF ASHURST. 
 
 forfeit the bond, so he can but have done with 
 you. Paul, our father was only a labourer, but 
 he was an honourable and virtuous man — ho- 
 nourable as he was hard-working. What would 
 he have said if he had heard a son of his trifling 
 with — for I will not use the word entertaining — 
 such base and disgraceful ideas ?" 
 
 " And pray what did our father get, by his 
 honourableness and his virtuousness, and his 
 hard, unceasing labour — I'd be glad if you'd 
 tell me that." 
 
 " Get I" 
 
 " Ay, get ! — Get's the word. I'm not a fool 
 to be caught by fine phrases, such as they use 
 to throw dust into the eyes of that poor, tame 
 beast, the people of England, and lead it where 
 they will. I ask you what did my father get by 
 all these fine things ?" 
 
 " Get !" 
 
 " You won't answer me, because you can't. 
 Then I'll answer myself — he got a stone hovel, 
 with three rooms in it — and pretty nearly
 
 THE ROSE OF ASHURST. 181 
 
 enough of bread, when corn was not too dear, 
 to keep body and soul together, and a bit of 
 bacon for a treat, and a pint of small beer or so 
 to wash it down, maybe, and the blessing of a 
 rheumatic fever caught working out in the rain, 
 and a wife dead of consumption. That's what 
 he got by his honour, and his virtue, and his 
 industry ; a conclusion devoutly to be wished 
 truly." 
 
 " A conclusion ! how vou talk ! He has 
 found his reward." 
 
 " Oh ! virtue is its own reward — sophism of 
 priests to delude credulous man !" 
 
 " Truth of God, to strengthen and ennoble 
 man ! But if you must needs talk in this wild 
 and incoherent manner, it would be weli to re- 
 member, that if my father had not unfortunately 
 died early, he was in the way — and there is 
 every probability that he would have reaped the 
 reward of his good conduct, even in the sub- 
 stantial pound and pence manner, for which you 
 seem alone to value it. You know that he had
 
 182 THE ROSE OF ASHURST. 
 
 already obtained an advance of wages ; and that 
 merely on account of his steadiness and trust- 
 worthiness he was put at the head of the gang 
 as overseer. The confidence placed in him was 
 such that he might have risen to almost any 
 place, I was told ; only, you know, he could 
 neither read nor write." 
 
 " x\nd you don't call that a scandalous, burn- 
 ing shame upon them? Such a man as he, 
 not even taught to read or write I" 
 
 " Scandalous shame ! and upon whom ?— 
 Upon his parents ? Why, they knew no better, 
 poor old folk ! themselves." 
 
 " His parents ! no, but a shame and a dis- 
 grace it is, that one man should be kept grovel- 
 ling in^ ignorance, whilst others, infinitely less 
 worthy, are reaping every advantage that the 
 lights of the world can offer." 
 
 " I suppose they pay for such advantages 
 — my poor father had nobody to pay for 
 him." 
 
 " Scandalous ! execrable 1"
 
 THE ROSE OF ASHURST. 183 
 
 "But who was scandalous? Who was ex- 
 ecrable ?" 
 
 " Everybody who has a hand in trampling 
 man down into the mire of this vile ignorance." 
 
 " Granted to the full, if they do trample 
 them down; but I never knew anybody who 
 trampled my father /down. Nay, he was offered 
 a place at Mrs. Lon^as's school, but he never 
 went, because poor grandfather sent him to 
 frighten crows." 
 
 " Infamous !" 
 
 " But whose fault was it ?" 
 
 ''Whose?— Whose?" 
 
 " Yes, whose ?" 
 
 " Why, you put things so, there's no answer- 
 ing you. But it's the fault of Society. Man 
 has a right to instruction. It is his birthright 
 as a moral and intellectual being." 
 
 ** And who has he a right to make teach him 
 for nothing? — It's a troublesome job now and 
 then." 
 
 *' Nonsense ! I'm not talking of his making
 
 184 THE ROSE OF ASHURST. 
 
 somebody teach him for nothing. Society ought 
 to take it upon itself." 
 
 " Who is Society ?" 
 
 " What absurd nonsense you do talk, Walter. 
 Society is an abstraction ; everybody knows 
 that." 
 
 " I should be sorry to look to an abstraction 
 for payment for my drugs and winter rides." 
 
 " Pooh ! how you run away from the ques- 
 tion !" 
 
 " Well, when people argue, the opposite speaker 
 always talks nonsense. Do not, however, mis- 
 take me ; I am very, very far from saying that 
 the Community — which is, I suppose, what you 
 mean by Society — has not an important duty to 
 discharge, as regards its weaker and more igno- 
 rant members. I do not mean that it is not 
 entirely right to assist in providing education for 
 those who have not the means of obtaining it, — 
 bread for those who have lost the power to earn 
 it for themselves — help to incapacity, and aid to 
 misfortune — but what I do mean to sav is, that
 
 THE ROSE OF ASHURST. 185 
 
 these things, when given, constitute a bounty, 
 and not a claim. Justice, truth, and good 
 faith, every man owes to another — every man 
 has a right to claim these from another ; but the 
 fruits of one man's labour as a free gift, no 
 man, however great his need, has a right to 
 claim. I have no right to another man's bene- 
 volence and assistance ; he may be a brute to 
 deny it to my wants, but that constitutes for me 
 no claim. And it seems to me, that your new- 
 fangled gentry want to fasten a claim upon 
 other men for that which never was yours, 
 namely, the fruits of the industry, abiUty, or 
 enterprise of other people. You are too proud 
 to accept it as an alms, — too idle, or have too 
 little capacity to earn it for yourselves ; there- 
 fore you want to establish a claim upon it, — to 
 take it and use it as rightfully your own, with- 
 out saying with your leave, or by your leave, to 
 the proprietor. I wonder how you'd like this 
 yourselves! But you are an idle, poverty- 
 stricken race, and have little sympathy with the
 
 186 THE ROSE OF ASHURST. 
 
 rights of property, because you have none. Get 
 something first of your own, and then we'll 
 begin to discuss your theories about giving other 
 men the right of spending it for you." 
 
 " Bah — bah — bah ! Why, Walter, you are 
 becoming quite an orator. We shall have you 
 holding forth at some club of good fellows, be- 
 longing to the respectable old school, whose 
 chief occupation is the hoodwinking of society. 
 But I tell you this old world stuff won't do 
 now — it has had its day. The progress of 
 society " 
 
 " Well, we have discussed society and its sins 
 long enough for one while ; let us return to the 
 matter in hand. My dear Paul, you are a very 
 clever, imaginative, intellectual fellow, we know 
 that, all of us, very well ; but you've been a sad 
 idle dog, you must confess. If you had not 
 wanted common industry, you would not be where 
 you are now. I quite enter into your feelings — 
 believe me, that I do. You feel, you think, a 
 capacity within yourself for something above
 
 THE ROSE OF ASHURST. 187 
 
 your present employments. I c^n quite under- 
 stand that — it is natural enough ; but in the 
 first place, I would have you seriously ask your- 
 self whether you are really capable of a higher 
 species of occupation ? To get a living in the 
 higher walks of life, requires study, and good hard 
 study, too ; and that you never would give, and I 
 doubt whether you would buckle to now. Just 
 look the matter fairly in the face. One thing is 
 indispensable to every man of spirit, — to main- 
 tain himself independently. Without independ- 
 ence, what is a man — what can he ever be ? 
 Half a man, — no man, — a slave ! and in the 
 worst sense of the word slave — the very soul 
 within him a slave." 
 
 " Slave ! I'm sure no negro slave is more 
 completely a slave than I am at this moment ! 
 — Soul ! — pretty independence of the soul, — 
 measuring out book mushn for ten consecutive 
 hours of every day !" 
 
 " I doubt whether it matters very much how 
 we gain our bread, provided we get enough of
 
 188 THE ROSE OF ASHURST. 
 
 it, and do our work honestly and honourably. 
 One species of toil is probably nearly as irksome 
 as another. I dare say we should find it so if 
 we tried. Every man in an hospital thinks his 
 own bed the hardest. The essential is to get 
 one's living, and I see at present no other way 
 in which you can earn yours so securely and 
 easily as your present one — for look ye, brother, 
 you, who think time for thought, for composi- 
 tion, for the exercise of your poetic talent, so 
 precious, if you will examine the thing pro- 
 perly, you will find you have actually much 
 more opportunity for this, working as you do a 
 limited number of hours — measuring out book 
 muslin, if you will — than if you were wearing 
 your brains to rags and tatters in an attorney's 
 office. Now, when work is over, you can amuse 
 yourself with the cultivation of your talents as 
 you please — your brain is not exhausted — in- 
 tellectual labour becomes the highest of plea- 
 sures after the fatigue of mere manual employ- 
 ment—whereas, even I, though I have the
 
 THE ROSE OF ASHURST. 189 
 
 felicity of riding Nell, and hearing thrushes sing 
 in hedges, often come home so wearied, and my 
 head so full of anxiety for this patient or the 
 other, that when work is over I could not spin 
 a line — no, not, I verily believe, if I were Ho- 
 mer himself." 
 
 " You don't suppose I envy you ?" 
 
 ''No, I should think not. You'd not like 
 my bed better than your own if you tried it — ■ 
 though I like it well enough myself, if I must own 
 the truth.'' 
 
 A smile of contempt rewarded this little effu- 
 sion. 
 
 " Well, to come to the moral of all this long 
 palaver, be a good honest fellow, Paul — you 
 know you are so at heart — go back to your 
 place." 
 
 " Master, you mean." 
 
 " Master, if you like, it makes no odds — 
 Apologise for transgression ; make your peace, 
 work away, save your money, and let us have 
 for a Christmas book a little volume of choice
 
 190 THE ROSE OF ASHURST. 
 
 poems that will immortalise you in your gene- 
 ration." 
 
 " Well, I don't know. What you say looks 
 something like sense — but if I do go back, like 
 a good boy, this evening .... I — I — I .... 
 IVe a little thing to tell you, Walter . . ." 
 
 " What is it ?— out with it." 
 
 " Why, I've got one or two little bills for 
 cigars and so on ; and then my tailor — he is a 
 tiresome fellow — never will give above twelve 
 months' credit. I vow I don't know how 
 money goes ; but there are so many odd things 
 one wants money for in London. You couldn't 
 lend me twenty pounds, could you ? I'll strive 
 to pay it back by instalments." 
 
 Walter shook his head. 
 
 " I am afraid your instalments won't be very 
 regularly paid, and I am sorry you do not make 
 a point of living within your means ; but if you 
 will be a good boy and go back to your mus- 
 lins, we'll see whether we can't scrape together 
 twenty pounds or so, for once in a way — Dear
 
 THE ROSE OF ASHURST. 191 
 
 Paul — for once in a way — forgive me for saying 
 that, not on account of the money — though, of 
 course, the money is something to me — but the 
 evil habit. Dear lad, if we do not begin life 
 well — if we do not start at once in the right 
 path — the world is a sad wilderness ! — But Fve 
 lectured you enough for one while. Come 
 along, you'll start by the seven o'clock coach. 
 You'll be in town time enough to get two or 
 three hours' sleep, and be at your place when 
 shop opens to-morrow. Paul, dear Paul," looking 
 at him with eyes beaming with affection, " you 
 don't know how you please me, lad. Be a 
 sensible fellow, such as you are at this mo- 
 ment," slapping him upon the back, ''and 
 we'll see if you are not a celebrated man, some 
 time." 
 
 I took my pocket-handkerchief from under 
 my pillow. I could not help it — the tears 
 would stand in my eyes. Paul seemed af- 
 fected. I saw him turn his head away. I 
 saw him, too, steal out his pocket-handker-
 
 192 THE ROSE OF ASHURST. 
 
 chief, as if ashamed of his emotion — but he said 
 nothing. 
 
 He was off that evening by the coach, and 
 the whole house seemed the lighter and brighter 
 when he was gone.
 
 THE ROSE OF ASHURST. 193 
 
 CHAPTER VIII 
 
 " 'Twas a sweet smile — so full of human love, 
 Of gentle tenderness and kindly heart." 
 
 W. C. Bennett. 
 
 The consequences of my accident were such 
 that I was detained at Ashurst some time. 
 
 I sent to Mrs. Tilley and gave up my apart- 
 ments at the King Charles, and agreed with my 
 sweet Mrs. Lewis to be her lodger and boarder 
 till I was quite well again. 
 
 I was not sorry for the necessity of this 
 pause in my vagrant, objectless life. I had 
 fallen into intimate communication with a class 
 of society with which I was little acquainted, 
 
 VOL. I. O
 
 194 THE ROSE OF ASHURST. 
 
 and had become intimate with two or three in- 
 dividuals who not only engaged my esteem by 
 their worth, and my affection by their kindness, 
 but amused and interested me by the simplicity 
 of their habits, and the interest I took in their 
 domestic politics. When I w^as able to leave 
 the house, I strolled about with my arm in a 
 sling, watching the goings on of this little out- 
 of-the-way place. I visited the blacksmith's 
 forge almost every day. There is a fascination 
 to me in seeing the huge bellows play, the sud- 
 den blazing up of the transient flame — in watch- 
 ing the red-hot horseshoe on the smithy — in 
 hearing the hammer fall and seeing the bright 
 sparks fly. Then the blacksmith's shop is 
 usually the rendezvous and club-house of the 
 village ; where, when the labour of the day is 
 over, or even at any hour of the day, when 
 horses are waiting to be shod, there is sure to 
 be a squad of village politicians, in their smock 
 frocks, assembled, discussing the news of the 
 hour, the prospects of the markets, intermingled
 
 THE ROSE OF ASHURST. 195 
 
 with plenty of gossip about their neighbours — a 
 commodity of which men, I observe, are quite 
 as fond as their wives. 
 
 At this place of assembling I learned a good 
 deal more of humble life, its wants, its aspira- 
 tions, and its energies, than ever I had done 
 before ; and this remark I must make by the 
 way : I was never tired of admiring the plain, 
 unsophisticated good sense of these labouring 
 Englishmen. Whether it arose from their 
 wholesome, out-of-door employments — whether 
 it was that their brains were not confused and 
 bothered with the metaphysical notions of our 
 day — more plain, straight-forward, good sense 
 — more of that good sense, which consists in 
 men understanding what they are about — what 
 ought to be done and how to do it — did I never 
 meet with, than I heard at the blacksmith's 
 forge of Ashurst. I don't say, as the false, 
 canting flatterers of the common people are 
 wont to say, that these men were just as well 
 calculated as Lord Aberdeen, Lord Derby, Lord 
 
 o 2
 
 196 THE ROSE OF ASHURST. 
 
 John Russell, or Sir Robert Peel, to govern a 
 nation, and direct the complicated relations of a 
 world ; but this I do affirm, that in their own 
 circle they, many of them, saw as clearly, worked 
 as wisely, and judged as well, as men of the bright- 
 est intellect could have done. In their special vo- 
 cations, they were as apt and as acute as the best. 
 I am speaking of the steady and well-behaved 
 portion of the community, for such were chiefly 
 those who frequented this little place of meet- 
 ing. The dissolute ones sought out other places 
 of diversion, the low pot-houses, for instance, 
 where they muddled away their senses with 
 drink, and destroyed their morals with profligate 
 conversation. 
 
 How often have I thought of that apt and 
 beautiful illustration of society, when the 
 preacher, looking round him upon the congre- 
 gation assembled in a newly-opened village 
 church, upon that day consecrated — compared 
 his listeners to the materials of the newly-erected 
 building, and said that each individual man, like
 
 THE ROSE OF ASHURST. 197 
 
 each individual brick, had his appointed place 
 and his appointed use — that in the soundness 
 and perfection of its less distinguished parts, lay 
 the chief strength and stability of the building, 
 rather than in the lofty arches and massive pil- 
 lars, all so excellent and noble in their way. 
 
 He bade every one assist to build up the 
 temple of society — in other words, the Church 
 of God — by fulfilling the duties of his proper 
 sphere — honourably and well — whether that 
 sphere were small or great. 
 
 I thought this better sense than to tell men 
 that they were all polished arches and massive 
 pillars ; and entreating them to refuse their 
 place in the walls, because they were not every 
 one elevated to be the mainstay and chief orna- 
 ment of the edifice. 
 
 Among other characters with whom I made 
 acquaintance, I was introduced in due time to 
 Mrs. Grant. I felt anxious to judge one who 
 had reared so sweet a child as Amy, and I was 
 not disappointed in her — but more upon that
 
 19S THE ROSE OF ASHURST. 
 
 subject hereafter. J must indulge myself now 
 with a further account of the little family in 
 which I was domesticated. 
 
 A more simple and frugal manner of living I 
 had never seen. 
 
 In my various wanderings I had, to be sure, 
 like the beloved Oliver Goldsmith, found a 
 home under many a humble roof ; but in none 
 had I observed the domestic policy carried on 
 with more exact frugality, comfort being at the 
 same time consulted, and even hberality prac- 
 tised to such a degree. 
 
 Blessed effects of economy and order — of 
 woman's nice perceptive taste and unremitting 
 industry. " I study the aesthetics of bread and 
 butter," said the best wife and mother I ever 
 knew, one day. 
 
 Pretty, delicate, lively, ever active Mrs. Lewis ! 
 Though unacquainted with the word, she was 
 equally alive to the thing. 
 
 That first element of comfort and beauty in 
 small households, cleanliness and precise ar-
 
 THE ROSE OF ASHURST. 199 
 
 rangement, was carried out by her with almost 
 a Dutch scrupulousness. 
 
 " There was not room in her little cabin," she 
 used to say, laughingly, " for dust ; and if things 
 were not all in their place, where was she to 
 find room for them, unless they encroached 
 upon their neighbours ? So I keep every- 
 body under good discipline, you see. That is 
 one advantage of these nutshells — one must be 
 a careful housewife, or one cannot find room to 
 turn oneself" 
 
 It had not required any great outlay of capital 
 to furnish such a little place, and that necessity 
 had been rendered still less by the choice of 
 the materials — dimity curtains and rush-bot- 
 tomed chairs, and green baize coverings for 
 floors, and deal painted tables and chests of 
 drawers ; but the colours so well chosen, the 
 draperies so prettily hung, all that did not cost 
 money, so well done, that the effect was most 
 cheerful and pleasing. 
 
 It was by attempting nothing above the sphere
 
 200 THE ROSE OF ASHURST. 
 
 of life to which they belonged, but by studying to 
 fill up that little outline as completely and grace- 
 fully as was possible, that the harmony was 
 produced which was to me so agreeable. 
 
 " We were forced to be excessively stingy," 
 Mrs. Lewis told me, in one of our many con- 
 versations (for we soon became quite intimate 
 and confidential friends). I have one social 
 art, if I have no other, that of winning upon the 
 confidence of those I frequent. 
 
 " We were obliged to be excessively sparing," 
 said she, " when we first set out in the world ; 
 for you cannot conceive how little we had to 
 begin upon. Our little savings, and fifty pounds 
 besides, which was my own — being my share of 
 my poor ruined father's property, after everybody 
 was paid — was all." 
 
 After a short pause, which I spent in admiring 
 this humble wisdom and self-denial, and reflect- 
 ing upon how little is necessary to make two 
 loving and prudent young people happy, Mrs. 
 Lewis went on —
 
 THE ROSE OF ASHURST. 201 
 
 " It would have been vain we well knew, even 
 if we had been willing, which we were not, to 
 apply to Mr. Strickland for assistance. It was 
 a rule from which he never deviated, to make 
 all the young men he helped forwards clearly to 
 understand, that having given them an educa- 
 tion, and once started them in life, they were 
 not to expect from him one farthing more, how- 
 ever pressing the necessity might he. It would 
 hamper him in all his plans and proceedings, he 
 said, if after having done much for a lad, it was 
 to be urged as a reason for doing more. Be- 
 sides, in his odd way, he used to add, ' I know 
 you all very well for a pack of lazy rascals ; and 
 if you had the faintest hope of being able to fall 
 back upon me, you would never learn to shift 
 for yourselves.' He was right, I dare say ; but, 
 right or wrong, he held, and still holds, un- 
 changeably to this point. And as for my hus- 
 band, he thought him so right, and he felt so 
 deeply grateful for what he had already done, 
 that I believe if he wanted a morsel of bread to
 
 202 THE ROSE OF ASHURST. 
 
 save him from starving, he would have begged 
 from door to door for it, and died of hunger 
 if no one would relieve him, rather than have 
 made application to Mr. Strickland. It was a 
 point of honour with him — a debt due to grati- 
 tude he considered it — not to inflict upon so 
 generous a benefactor the pain of a refusal. 
 
 " I don't know what Mr. Strickland said to 
 our marriage. Most people called it dreadfully 
 imprudent. All our friends and acquaintances 
 were very angry ; but we were both alone in the 
 world — we loved each other, we felt that we 
 together could brave everything; and besides, 
 it is always an advantage to a young medical 
 practitioner to be a married man. This idea 
 reconciled my conscience to what I was longing 
 in my heart to do, — begin the world and struggle 
 and work for him. You see, sir, Walter is not 
 a robust young man ; he is, on the contrary, 
 extremely delicate — he wants a vast deal of care 
 — he cannot rough it as many a young surgeon 
 does and can. His heart is as soft and tender
 
 THE ROSE OF ASHURST. 203 
 
 as his abilities are high and fine. He wants a 
 friend — a woman friend — when he comes home 
 worn out with fatigue, his heart perhaps bleed- 
 ing for necessities that he cannot relieve, or 
 suifering that he cannot ease ... . pierced to the 
 very soul by all the suffering and sorrow he is 
 obliged to witness, it would not do for him to 
 be obliged to seek for recreation in the society 
 of a few jolly men friends — They would laugh at 
 him, most probably, for not having long ago 
 hardened himself against the sufferings he has to 
 witness in the course of his profession, as good 
 surgeons ought to do, say they." 
 
 " They say very wrong." 
 
 " I think so, sir ; and it does my heart good 
 to hear you express that opinion. Nothing is, 
 I believe, such a real alleviation of the sufferings 
 of a patient as tenderness and kindness on the 
 part of his medical man ; but it does not do for 
 such a man — a man with a feeling heart — after 
 he has been sympathising with anguish and 
 sorrow, to come home to a dull, lonely lodging
 
 204 THE ROSE OF ASHURST. 
 
 — his spirits can't stand it — he wants refresh- 
 ment — sympathy in his turn. The spirits of 
 men like Walter are usually more delicate than 
 those of other people ; in short, such a one 
 wants a wife, and the best he can lay his hands 
 on. I am not equal to my husband in any 
 respect ; I wish, for his sake, I were a thousand, 
 thousand times better than I am ; but I love 
 him, I have been used to work, and accustomed 
 to do without things, and so, upon the whole, I 
 thought I should suit him pretty well." 
 
 " I should think so. You are the very pearl 
 of wives. If all women were like you, we 
 should none of us be bachelors, as old Job 
 says." 
 
 She laughed, and said — 
 
 " You would spoil me if you could, I see, and 
 so would Job too, but I am not going to be 
 spoilt. I know well enough how many things 
 are wanting to make me such a wife as Walter 
 Lewis deserves, but I am only the more grateful 
 to him for being content with his bargain."
 
 THE ROSE OF ASHURST. 205 
 
 " Go on ; you were telling me how you set 
 about furnishing your house." 
 
 " Oh, sir ! it would make you laugh to hear 
 how we did consult, and calculate, and plan ; 
 how we saved here, and saved there, to squeeze 
 the little plenishing out of our means. We 
 were forced to seek for a small loan of money to 
 purchase surgical instruments and a proper store 
 of really good medicines, and that money Walter 
 did not object to borrow. He considered it as 
 capital fairly expended upon his stock in trade. 
 He borrowed that without scruple, insuring his 
 life for the sum till it was paid ; it is all paid 
 now." 
 
 And her face beamed with honest pride and 
 
 joy- 
 
 " I observe you have no assistant in the sur- 
 gery ; you do all the business there yourself?" 
 
 " To be sure I do ; it would be a great ex- 
 pense to get any one else to do it. It is very 
 wrong to trust such things to an ignorant boy ; 
 a young man fit for the purpose must, to a cer-
 
 206 THE ROSE OF ASHURST. 
 
 tain degree, be well educated, he therefore re- 
 quires and deserves a good salary. Even an 
 ignorant boy eats meat, and we have not an 
 ounce more than we like to eat ourselves, for 
 you know we are both rather gourmands — but 
 then we really do work hard. Nature must be 
 supported, you know." 
 
 " And very good everything is." 
 
 " I should be ashamed of myself if it were 
 not. It is a disgrace to a wife, whoever she 
 be, if she does not give her husband a good 
 dinner." 
 
 " I can't think how you manage it." 
 
 ''Oh, it only requires care and pains, and a 
 little experience added to that. Experience is 
 no bad thing anywhere. My mother was an 
 excellent manager, and from quite a child she 
 used to bring me up to assist her and attend to 
 such matters. She said a woman's glory was 
 in her householding. She taught me all sorts 
 of things. The delicate little dishes she used to 
 make for my poor father when he was ill and
 
 THE ROSE OF ASHURST. 207 
 
 anxious, and had little or no appetite — they 
 would have tempted Apicius — is not that his 
 name in the Dialogues of the Dead ? — Dear, 
 good, wise mother, how much I owe to her !" 
 
 " Then you did not sit playing the piano, and 
 learning French all day ?" 
 
 " Not I. My mother, before we were so 
 badly off, taught me some accomplishments at 
 spare times — she said it was well for a woman 
 to have them ; but when my father fell into 
 difficulties and became so poor and ill, they fell 
 into neglect, . . . and it does not matter. I do 
 not want them now, I am too busy to practise 
 my music," laughing ; "and when Walter comes 
 home, he is too tired to feel much inclination 
 for that sort of thing. We get books — books 
 are so cheap now, everybody who will can get 
 them. When we have time for it, he likes 
 better to lie on the sofa resting, and to be read 
 to, than anything else — I so like to do it — 
 it keeps his mind up to what is going on 
 in the world, and it improves mine. It
 
 208 THE ROSE OF ASHURST. 
 
 makes me a more fit companion for a man 
 like him." 
 
 " But how do you manage about making up 
 the prescriptions ?" 
 
 "Why, sir, one thing I forgot to tell you, 
 which I have to thank mv dear mother for — she 
 
 4/ 
 
 would have me taught a little Latin. Her 
 father was a clergyman, and had taken a vast 
 deal of pains with her, and she knew Latin. 
 She said it was the universal language, and she 
 had found it very useful, and that perhaps I 
 might some time or other do the same, and 
 experience has proved the truth of what she 
 said. She taught me at spare moments, and 
 I was rather a good child, and loved my book, 
 so with a little instruction from Mr. Lewis, I 
 can make up prescriptions very well." 
 
 " And your boy — what a promising, interest- 
 ing child he is." 
 
 Her whole countenance lighted up, as it ever 
 did, if but the name of her child were men- 
 tioned.
 
 THE ROSE OF ASHURST. 209 
 
 " Ah, sir, is he not ? Is he not a dangerously 
 nice child ? We must not let him become an 
 idol and a snare." 
 
 " I don't enter into these refinements, for my 
 part. I hold that no woman can love her child 
 too much ; for, in spite of the fuss they make 
 about mother -love, I know hundreds of women 
 that love their children a great deal too little, 
 for one that loves them too much." 
 
 " Ah, sir, you don't know the mother's heart, 
 then ! — the worth of it, or the naughtiness of it — 
 the love, and the self-devotion, and the self- 
 sacrifice — or the pride, the envy, the jealousy, the 
 ambition, the temptation to despise every other 
 consideration, when opposed to the interests and 
 the advancement of a child." 
 
 "Well, there is little fear of you, I think, 
 being either unjust or otherwise. You will be 
 content to see your boy worthy and happy. 
 You will not desire for him a sphere above the 
 one he is born to." 
 
 " Shall I not ? Ah, sir ! you think too well, or 
 
 VOL. I. p
 
 210 THE ROSE OF ASHURST. 
 
 not well enough of me. I did not mean to say 
 that a parent's ambition for a child was not 
 right. I think all parents ought to be ambitious 
 for their children — all good parents are. It 
 is natural, whatever one is oneself, to wish a child 
 to advance upon it. God has implanted that 
 desire in every loving parent's heart. We wish 
 to see our children wiser, better, happier, richer, 
 greater than w^e are ourselves. But that very 
 ambition may become a snare when we desire 
 this so passionately, as Walter and I do for this 
 boy. To see him a distinguished man of sci- 
 ence — a great and celebrated physician — oh, 
 sir ! I think we would live on dry bread, and 
 clothe ourselves in rags, to secure it." 
 
 " A very honourable ambition ; I quite en- 
 tirely sympathise with it." 
 
 " It would not have been so vehement, I 
 hope and believe, if we had not both thought 
 that we discovered in this child, young as he is, 
 the promise of very superior abilities — we think 
 he gives earnest of quite a singular genius
 
 THE ROSE OF ASHURST. 211 
 
 for that wajk in life. I don't know .... but 
 my husband says he cannot help fancying that 
 Sydenham, or Boerhaave, or Decandolle, or Sir 
 Humphry Davy, or Faraday, or Sir John 
 Hunter, or Sir Astley Cooper, must, when they 
 were little children, have been something like 
 our boy.. It is his opinion that the child is 
 father to the man, and that the germ of future 
 excellence is very early to be discerned." 
 
 " Men differ about this. Examples are found 
 both ways, — Sheridan, for instance. But I 
 suspect that a boy, because he is slow at his 
 book, may be condemned as a stupid dunce, 
 when a finer perception would discover the 
 germs, as you call them, of future superiority 
 under this very disheartening outside." 
 
 " Do you think we are right in believing our 
 little boy to be naturally clever ?" 
 
 " I believe you are very right, but I would 
 not have you trust too much to natural genius. 
 To attain superior excellence in the pursuits you 
 mention, a good education is, now-a-days, almost 
 
 p 2
 
 212 THE ROSE OF ASHURST. 
 
 indispensable. There is so much to be learnt — 
 such an immense progress has been made, that 
 an intelligent and original mind may be wasting 
 its strength and ingenuity to no purpose, making 
 discoveries of things new to himself, for want 
 of being acquainted with what has already been 
 done, though known to the world in general." 
 
 " Ah, sir, that's just it ! My husband prizes 
 the advantage of a really good education for his 
 boy, above every other earthly possession." 
 
 " And he begins by sending him to the 
 common village school ? Why do you not 
 keep him at home, and teach him yourselves, 
 rather ?" 
 
 " Because he is too young, and we have not 
 time. He is too young to be left to learn les- 
 sons by himself; his father's time is never at 
 his own disposal, mine constantly exposed to 
 interruptions. The child might learn a little 
 quicker, and a little more, in spite of these 
 disadvantages if taught by ourselves, perhaps, 
 but he would not acquire the invaluable habit of
 
 THE ROSE OF ASHURST. 213 
 
 regular systematic occupation at certain fixed 
 hours — the habit of doing what is to be done 
 when the hour appointed strikes, as a matter of 
 course, and a thing not to be dispensed with. 
 At his age, at any age, we think habits of still" 
 more value than acquirements. Moreover, 
 he is an only child, and he is a very sensitive, 
 original, and exceptional child ; it is wholesome 
 for him to live with his fellows, to learn not to 
 hold himself above them — to be enlisted into 
 the common fellowship of his kind from a baby, 
 if he is to work among them afterwards as a 
 marked and distinguished man." 
 
 " Why, how right you are in your way of 
 thinking ; but how long is this sort of education 
 to last?" 
 
 " Not very long, and that is what makes us 
 so miserly. We want to lay by a little sum of 
 money before that time comes, for, after it 
 arrives, we shall have so much additional ex- 
 pense to provide for, that we are not likely to 
 be able to spare anything to speak of. We
 
 214 THE ROSE OF ASHURST. 
 
 want to have a small sum in store beforehand to 
 meet inevitable accidents, so that when once 
 launched, Fabian's education may not be quite 
 dependent on his father's length of life. It 
 Vould be cruel, my husband says, to begin a 
 course which would lift him above the ordinary 
 career, and then not to be able to finish it. 
 That might engender endless mortifications and 
 discontents. He might be happy in the place 
 his father occupies, if he never learned to anti- 
 cipate a higher ; but it would be, he will say, 
 * As if I were to be obliged to dig and to delve 
 like my good father,' if after having given him 
 an education such as we propose, he were obliged 
 to sink back and spend his life in a little obscure 
 village like this." 
 
 " And so you are become very miserly ?" 
 " Indeed are we. I carry my sovereigns to 
 the bank at Morton-in-the-Marsh, and in due 
 time make my investments with a joy that really 
 one ought almost to be ashamed of."
 
 THE ROSE OF ASHURST. 215 
 
 To return to my Rose of Ashurst and her 
 little friend. The two children seemed to be 
 inseparable. — Their love for each other ap- 
 peared to be strengthened by harmony of taste 
 and opposition of character. But what 
 seemed curious was, that evidently the little 
 girl was the ruhng spirit of the two, the enter- 
 prising leader, guide, and guardian of the 
 other, and still cleverer child. She was the fore- 
 most in every enterprise, yet the most watchful 
 and prudent in every difficulty, and perhaps the 
 bravest in danger; though in anypressing moment 
 of sudden terror, I have sometimes seen the cha- 
 racter of the embryo man flash out, and that of 
 the coward woman reveal itself. At such times, 
 Fabian would at once become heroic, daring, and 
 brave, whilst poor little Amy would run screaming 
 away. 
 
 Amy was not only the guide of his life, but 
 Fabian's careful instructress in letters too. 
 
 Being so much older, her progress in learning 
 was far beyond his, and she was unremitting with
 
 216 THE ROSE OF ASHURST. 
 
 the pains she took in helping him forward in 
 his lessons. At this task she laboured inde- 
 fatigably. She laughed at him when slow, and 
 she scolded him when idle or inattentive ; but 
 under all this assumption of authority, it was 
 easy to perceive that a deep-seated sentiment of 
 the most ardent admiration — a feeling almost 
 approaching to adoration — was concealed. She 
 looked upon him, it was evident, as a something 
 far more precious than herself. In her value 
 for him, all self-love was absorbed. It was such 
 a pretty sight to watch this pair of children, 
 that I was never tired of it. She seemed to 
 regard him, and to expect every one else to 
 regard him as a something above measure, rare 
 and valuable, as one to whose development and 
 improvement it was hers and every one's busi- 
 ness to minister in every possible way. She 
 thought herself a mere nothing, in comparison 
 with him, as if she was born but to help and 
 take care of him. And was it not pretty to see 
 how the little embryo woman — the Eve in her
 
 THE ROSE OF ASHURST. 2l7 
 
 first innocence, made herself the slave, whilst she 
 affected to be the tyrant of the infant Adam. 
 
 How often have I come unperceived upon 
 them, sitting together on one of the high banks 
 of that shady lane, of which they were both so 
 fond — a bank of moss inlaid with violets and 
 wild strawberry flowers — crouching side by 
 side, upon one mossy cushion, Hke Shakspeare's 
 two cherries, divided, but not parted. Amy's 
 little round arm thrown around his alabaster 
 shoulders; a book between them, her little 
 finger pointing to the words, whilst he was 
 murmuring his lesson. The stillness interrupted 
 by many a merry, ringing laugh, and many a 
 " Oh, you foolish boy !" " Oh, you stupid little 
 boy !" when he blundered. 
 
 At other times, her hat fallen off, she would 
 be flying after him in full chase of gome insect, 
 or scrambling through the bushes to track some 
 bird to its nest. Every object in nature seemed 
 to be a source of investigation and delight, 
 nothing came amiss to them.
 
 218 THE ROSE OE ASHURST. 
 
 One day I caught them tenderly nursing a 
 poor wounded frog that they had picked up ; at 
 another time they were amusing themselves 
 with a snake. I was afraid of vipers, but my 
 little friends w^ere far too good naturalists to 
 run any risk of this sort, and pointed tri- 
 umphantly to the golden spot upon the side 
 of the reptile's head, as a warrant that he was 
 harmless. 
 
 They were two little angels, and the whole 
 village seemed to be of that opinion. They 
 were looked up to and loved by every one. 
 They were regarded as something more sacred, 
 more holy, more blessed than other children ; 
 as the cherubim, the messengers of the Almighty. 
 Their innocence, their quickness, their sweetness, 
 and their beauty were so great. 
 
 They were the kindest, most pitying little 
 things you ever saw. I told you I found them 
 engaged one day carefully binding up the wounds 
 of a poor crushed frog they had found in the 
 lane, — little untaught Samaritans ! They care-
 
 THE ROSE OF ASHURST. 219 
 
 fully carried it home, placed it where it would 
 be comfortable and safe, and endeavoured to 
 supply it with food. They did not succeed in 
 curing it, I fear. 
 
 Once I found them crying over the woes of 
 the ugliest dog you ever set your eyes upon, 
 who was the contempt and aversion of the 
 whole village, — a miserable, half-starved, worn- 
 out cur. An unlucky boy had thrown a stone 
 at it, and broken the animal's leg. Amy was 
 crying bitterly ; both children were endeavour- 
 ing with all their little strength to help it 
 along, that its leg might be set by Mamma 
 Lewis. 
 
 For she was mamma to both. 
 
 Mrs. Lewis set the limb, with all the gravity 
 and dexterity of an accomplished surgeon, and 
 bound it up with a linen compress neatly and 
 well, and then the Httle ones were content. 
 Amy kissed the dog through her half-dried 
 tears, and with a respect and gratitude lovely 
 in so young a child, kissed that hand of
 
 220 THE ROSE OF ASHURST. 
 
 Mamma Lewis, too, which had set the leg so 
 well. 
 
 I feel I shall weary you with my relations ; 
 but I find it hard to tear myself from the con- 
 templation of so much innocent happiness ; 
 though, however, I promised to speak a little 
 of Mrs. Grant, and having done so, will pro- 
 ceed with my story.
 
 THE ROSE OF ASHURST* 221 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 " You knew her window, that the jessamine 
 And honeysuckle hung with draperies rare. 
 By the brown sparrows on the garden trees 
 That hopp'd and twittered." 
 
 New Griselda — W. C. Bennett. 
 
 Holding little Amy by the hand, she, jump- 
 ing for joy, and followed by Mrs. Lewis with 
 her little son, 1 proceeded to make my first visit 
 to Mrs. Grant. 
 
 Mrs. Grant was quite one of the aristocracy 
 of the village. She was the widow of an officer 
 — an officer, however, that had risen from the 
 ranks — but she was considered as occupying 
 the highest place in the humble society of which
 
 222 THE ROSE OF ASHURST. 
 
 she formed a part, and the consideration she met 
 with, had given to her manners and appearance 
 a dignity which others acquire in grand assembhes 
 and in courts. 
 
 Her house, as I said before, stood somewhat 
 apart from the village, in a little bosquet of 
 trees. There were two or three giant elms upon 
 the Httle property, and two or three magnificent 
 old bushy hawthorns, which last, when the white 
 May was out, were the admiration of every- 
 body. 
 
 We entered the small domain by a neat green 
 gate, which admitted us to what might be called 
 the approach — for it was wide enough to allow 
 a carriage to enter, when, by rare accident, a 
 carriage wanted to do so — and it was often 
 turned to use by Mrs. Grant's little cart, for she 
 was, as I found afterwards, a small farmer as 
 well as a small gentlewoman, enjoying a "small 
 pension, as a small officer's widow. 
 
 After going a few yards up the approach, a 
 little turf path led us through a screen of laurels
 
 THE ROSE OF ASHURST. 223 
 
 into a garden in all the pride of early summer, 
 and of those plants anciently the glory of gar- 
 dens, now in general set aside — or treated with 
 little of that minute attention which constituted 
 them, as we may say, the triumphs of the floral 
 art. I cannot quite abandon the hope of seeing 
 this Dutch taste in gardening revived again, 
 and that I may live to see tulips, ranunculuses, 
 anemones, and auriculas, restored to their proper 
 place in their own lovely sphere. 
 
 This small garden, framed in accurately cut 
 laurel hedges, and running in a simple paral- 
 lelogram to the road, from which it was sepa- 
 rated by a little field, was laid out in the old- 
 fashioned taste, a diminutive of the grand style 
 which prevailed in France in the days of Louis 
 Quinze, when it cannot be denied that, so far as 
 a certain form of the beautiful went, nothing 
 was left to be desired. 
 
 It was kept with the utmost neatness, and 
 was intersected with narrow gravel walks, edged 
 with trim box, and the centre walk wider, so as
 
 224 THE ROSE OF ASHURST. 
 
 comfortably to allow of three people walking 
 abreast. 
 
 At this time of the year this garden was in 
 its highest beauty. 
 
 There were bushes of honeysuckles covered 
 with flowers perfuming the air. There were ma- 
 jestic crown imperials rising in all their dignity ; 
 scarlet and yellow turn cap lilies bedropped with 
 dew ; the unrivalled day lily, large thick white 
 and yellow stocks, as big as roses, and early roses 
 themselves just peeping from their buds. These 
 flowers shone gorgeously in the borders on each 
 side of the walk, whilst the small beds were 
 devoted to the choicer specimens — the tulips, 
 ranunculuses, and anemones. You never saw 
 such beds of flowers — you never did. Such 
 flowers are to be seen nowhere now% except we 
 find them depicted in all their pouting magnifi- 
 cence in old pictures, or upon old chintzes, or 
 old china. 
 
 The flaunting tulip, that most proud and 
 beautiful flower, which has served to illustrate
 
 TBE ROSE OF ASHURST. 225 
 
 many a moral maxim, is now no more to be 
 seen, except, perchance, under a screen in a 
 nurseryman's show in the King's Road, mocking 
 us with the vision of what form, and colour, 
 and texture can be, as displayed under a shed of 
 mats, and surrounded, with all the disenchanting 
 evidences of vegetable commerce. The full rose 
 of the ranunculus bending its stem with its rich 
 heaviness, the splendid anemone, with its count- 
 less tassel of small leaves enclosed in that finely- 
 tinted cup, the hyacinths with their pyramids of 
 bells — these things, once forming the pride, the 
 love, the interest of many an innocent, secluded 
 life, have vanished with the simplicity of antique 
 manners. For aught I know, they may still 
 be found in the magnificent parterres of the 
 wealthy, though I do not recollect having seen 
 them there ; but where I miss them, is in the 
 humble gardens of the village, or among the in- 
 habitants of the small town, where the cultivation 
 of these choice bulbs and roots was in itself a 
 form of cultivation to the cultivators. 
 
 VOL. I. Q ..
 
 226 THE ROSE OF ASHURST. 
 
 Mrs. Grant's house was a specimen, upon a 
 small scale, of those black and white houses, 
 with pointed gables, casement windows, and 
 story overhanging story widening as they rise, 
 which still remain scattered about England. 
 
 The one before us, though so small, was a very 
 beautiful specimen of the style. It was adorned 
 with cornices, and crosses, and rosettes, and 
 scrolls, in the black wood and white plaster, 
 and with a point elaborately carved at the sum- 
 mit of each gable. I am ignorant of the terms 
 by which to describe this species of architecture, 
 seen to such perfection at Rouen — but the effect 
 is very rich and venerable. The front of this 
 one looked to the garden. It consisted of only 
 two gables, joined below in an acute angle ; an 
 old-fashioned porch was over the door, with low 
 casement windows upon each side of it. Win- 
 dows of the same description appeared above, 
 and one adorned each of the gables, their frames 
 somewhat richly carved, and there was a small 
 centre one over the porch in which w^as a good
 
 THE ROSE OF ASHURST. 227 
 
 deal of coloured glass. A narrow border ran 
 round the house, and various snaall flowering 
 plants were to be seen trained against the walls. 
 
 It was rich — it was lowly — it was antique — 
 it was grave — it was peaceful — it was enchant- 
 ing! 
 
 The casement windows stood open. Bees, 
 whose hives stood upon a bee-bench under a 
 laburnum tree in full flower, were buzzing 
 about, revelling in the rich affluence of sweets ; 
 busily creeping in and out of the pendant bells 
 or blossoms, winging away their flight laden with 
 their golden treasures. The sun shone bright 
 and glad ; little birds were peeping about from 
 among the bushes, whilst a bullfinch in a bright 
 brass cage hanging out of one of the open win- 
 dows, was whistling away, with all the might of 
 his little musical soul. 
 
 It was a miniature picture ; but never was 
 miniature more lovely. 
 
 The cheerful sound of a spinning-wheel was 
 heard through one of the windows. 
 
 Q 2
 
 228 THE ROSE OF ASHURST. 
 
 " That's grandmamma," said Amy. " Don't 
 you see her ?" 
 
 And without allowing me to linger in this 
 delicious little garden, she dragged me forward 
 to the porch, and entering a narrow lobby, 
 opened a door leading into the pretty little 
 apartment, in which, turning her wheel, the 
 venerable old lady sat. 
 
 She appeared to be of very advanced age. 
 Her hair, white as snow, was rolled over above 
 her forehead, and her pale, delicate, wrinkled 
 countenance was enclosed in a widow's cap — a 
 widow's cap of forty years. She was dressed 
 in a black dress of widow's silk, relieved by a 
 good deal of white about the throat and bosom, 
 and joining with the cap below the chin, so that 
 nothing but the pure outline of the ancient face, 
 and the white veiny, well-formed, but withered 
 hands, issuing from the snow-white lawn at the 
 wrist, were visible. 
 
 As she rose from her wheel to greet me, 
 leaning upon a long ebony staff, headed with
 
 THE ROSE OF ASHURST. 229 
 
 white ivory, it was evident that her figure must 
 once have been tall and magnificent. It was 
 now bowed down with the weight of years ; yet 
 in a manner that told of former strength rather 
 than of present infirmity — of the strength that 
 had resisted time — reminding one of what was 
 left, rather than of what had been taken away. 
 
 It was old age — but it was not the decay 
 produced by the maladies incident to old age. 
 No trembling of the Hmbs, no uncertain motion 
 of the head, no querulous lip, no glazed eye. 
 She stooped, like the strong man under a 
 weight — so she bowed beneath the hand of 
 time. Her lip was thin and wasted, but it 
 was cheerfuh tempered and sweet. Her eye had 
 lost the bright flashes of its youthful glory, but 
 it was piercing, steady, and bright. The majesty 
 resulting from a long well-spent life was there — 
 the hoary head was as a crown of glory. 
 
 She rose, as I said, and saluted me with 
 dignity and benevolence mingled. Her years 
 were her dignity. She looked upon me, a man
 
 230 THE ROSE OF ASHURST. 
 
 of thirty, with the benignity with which I might 
 have regarded Amy. From the high tower of 
 her great old age, she looked down upon the 
 young man kindly. 
 
 It gave me quite a pleasant feeling of renewed 
 youth to be regarded so ; and I am sure I felt 
 inclined to return her benignity with at least an 
 equal portion of reverence. 
 
 Amy led me forward by the hand. 
 
 " Here's Mr. Vernon ! Here's the gentleman, 
 grandma', that's been so kind to Fabian and 
 me." 
 
 " I am glad to see you, sir. It is very good 
 of you to walk up to visit an old woman. I 
 am glad to have the opportunity of thanking 
 you for your kindness to my dear little 
 Amy." 
 
 " Oh, please don't put it in that way ; I love 
 Amy for her own sake," I said, drawing her to- 
 ward me ; "to have been of the least use to her 
 was the greatest pleasure in the world." 
 
 " Will you sit down, sir ?" pointing to a chair
 
 THE ROSE OF ASHURST. 231 
 
 by the pleasant open window, through which the 
 soft wind came blowing gently, bringing with it 
 the sound of birds singing, and bees humming, 
 and the sweet perfume of that flower garden 
 spread as a richly painted tapestry before us. 
 
 And having seen me placed, she resumed her 
 antique, tall-backed, almost grand-looking chair, 
 in which seated, she looked like the Queen of 
 Ages upon her throne. 
 
 " Amy, run and bring some strawberries and 
 cream, and some seed-cake, and a bottle of cur- 
 rant wine. — It is hot to-day, though the wind is 
 so fresh and pleasant. You will not refuse our 
 rustic refreshment after your walk, I am sure, 
 sir." 
 
 " I shall be delighted to be served by my little 
 Amy. You remember Eve's feast in Paradise — 
 it always set me longing." 
 
 " Sir, we are very much obliged to a great 
 poet for the beautifying of those gifts, which are 
 open to all, and which most of us, if we will, 
 may enjoy. The spreading heavens, the fresh
 
 232 THE ROSE OF ASHURST. 
 
 sweet air, flowers, and trees, insects and birds, 
 fruit, and green herbs." 
 
 " Ah, my dear madam, how many a denizen 
 of the town vainly longs for such enjoyments.'* 
 
 " Too true. — But does he do all in his power 
 to obtain them ? I doubt it. I think very few 
 have either a clear idea of what they wish, or a 
 persevering resolution to obtain it. I hope and 
 believe that even in great towns much might be 
 done, and I cannot but hope that before long 
 much will be done, to secure these first blessings 
 of nature — these relics of paradise, if I may call 
 them so — for every artisan, even to the humblest, 
 who labours with his hands. 
 
 "The difficulty lies in this," I responded, 
 *'that people, losing the means of enjoying 
 such things, are apt to lose their taste for the 
 enjoyment itself The commoner sort cease to 
 care for these wholesome, natural pleasures, and 
 betake themselves in their place to drunkenness 
 and debauchery — those cheap indulgences of 
 crowded towns."
 
 THE ROSE OF ASHURST. 256 
 
 "They ought not to be so crowded... But 
 here you come, my litttle lass,'* as the door 
 opened and Amy entered, carrying a porcelain 
 basket garnished with fresh strawberry leaves 
 and filled with strawberries. She was followed 
 by a nice, clean, rosy girl, bearing a japanned 
 waiter blazing with gaudy painted flowers, on 
 which were plates and silver spoons — cream in 
 a little embossed silver jug — a decanter filled 
 with currant wine of the most delicate pink 
 colour, grapes, &c. 
 
 " Set down your strawberries, Amy, and bring 
 the small round table — place it between the 
 gentleman and me." 
 
 *' But where's your cake ?" 
 " Oh, it's coming, grandmamma." 
 And then the handy Httle Phillis began to 
 arrange the things upon the table, and when 
 that was done she ran out and fetched a plate 
 of tempting yellow slices of seed-cake, perform- 
 ing her little task so attentively, so carefully, so 
 handily, yet her Httle face all the while so beam-
 
 234 THE ROSE OF ASHURST. 
 
 ing with hospitable pleasure, that it was a perfect 
 picture. When all was arranged to her satisfac- 
 tion she began to assist her grandmamma in 
 doing the honours. She selected for me the 
 finest strawberries, assisting me daintily to pull 
 the stems off, handing the sugar, the cream, the 
 cake, so attentively ! — It was a fresh surprise to 
 me, though I had known the child so long. 
 
 "Why, you are quite a woman, Amy," 
 I cried. She glanced at her grandmamma with 
 a little look of pride and pleasure, who simply 
 said, turning to her — 
 
 "And now, Amy, my dear, the gentleman 
 will take a glass of wine." 
 
 I did so. Execrable as made wines too often 
 were in the day of their power, I would not 
 refiise ; but I found no reason to repent my com- 
 plaisance. 
 
 " Now, Amy, help to take the things away, 
 and then go and feed Bully ; he has not had 
 fresh seed or water to-day." 
 
 "What a nice child," I began, w^hen she had
 
 THE ROSE OF ASHURST. 235 
 
 taken her departure. '* A wonderfully clever 
 child she is, indeed. I never saw such a sen- 
 sible, prudent, amiable, little thing in my life. 
 She is very remarkable." 
 
 " She is a little above the common standard, 
 I believe, but I don't think she is more advanced 
 than many other children of her age, who have 
 the same advantages. You would be surprised 
 to see, sir, how clever and dextrous the children 
 of the poor become, merely from the necessity 
 of putting their hands to things. My dear 
 little Amy must learn early to be useful, for 
 when T am gone the little thing will be very 
 poor." 
 
 " Mrs. Lewis has told me how she was cir- 
 cumstanced, and that you were anxious to pre- 
 pare her to take a place as a nursery governess 
 when the time arrives that she must get her 
 own hving; but, thank God, there is every 
 reason to hope that time will be far off. You 
 have another good twenty years in you, Mrs. 
 Grant."
 
 236 THE ROSE OF ASHURST. 
 
 She sighed, and she smiled gravely and gently, 
 and shook her head. 
 
 " If it will only please Him to grant rae eight 
 years, so that I may see that child in her teens, 
 It will be a great mercy. I have already passed 
 the extreme boundary of ordinary human life — 
 what remains will be as a miracle of His good- 
 ness." 
 
 The plan of making Amy commence life, if 
 need were, as a nursery governess, seemed to 
 me so sensible a one, that I wished to add my 
 little contribution to the scheme by beginning to 
 teach her a little French. I therefore oiFered 
 my services, adding, '' I could not do much, but 
 a beginning is always a beginning. I think, 
 when I go to London, I can find some little 
 books which will help her on, and I shall be 
 coming again next summer, perhaps, to visit 
 my cousin Lady Vynour ; and then we can get 
 something more done. It is my maxim, that 
 in things which are in themselves desirable,
 
 THE ROSE OF ASHURST. 237 
 
 ever so little is better than none, supposing 
 more is not to be had." 
 
 Mrs. Grant received my offer with gratitude. 
 
 "Poor dear!" said the old lady, " I would 
 have been glad to have commanded more of 
 what are commonly called advantages for her 
 . . . and yet 1 do not feel quite sure whether 
 what she gets at the simple village- school — 
 learns in the natural course of her rural life, and 
 exercises in her attendance and care of me — is 
 not the best education that she can receive for 
 one under her circumstances. The commoner 
 girls' schools are such places ! and the higher 
 ones are so expensive ! And even in the best, 
 among the best, there are such evils to be found, 
 that I am told the majority of mothers refrain 
 from sending their girls there." 
 
 "I hate girls' schools, myself," I cried; "not," 
 correcting myself, " that I know much about 
 them ; but 1 have prejudices against them so 
 strong, that I take them for instincts — and no 
 one can help believing in his instincts."
 
 238 THE ROSE OF ASHURST. 
 
 " And yet, Lady Vynour went to school, I 
 believe." 
 
 " So she certainly did, and no harm ever 
 came of it, that I know of, except that she just 
 left her constitution there. They overworked 
 her, I imagine, in the preposterous manner 
 schoolmistresses — I beg their pardon — I mean 
 heads of seminaries — think it a matter of prin- 
 ciple, or perhaps of interest, to overstrain young 
 people — for the absurdity of parents in their 
 requirements, as to what is to be learned and 
 done in a given time, makes it a contest between 
 schools which can effect most in that way. No- 
 body seems to think of the cost, of the strain 
 and the wear — the suffering at the time, and 
 what is a thousand million times worse, the 
 permanent life-long injury which is too often, 
 most often, I fear, the consequence. No, for 
 the sake of all that is wise and good, don't 
 send that nice, clever, vigorous httle girl of 
 yours to a school. If accomplishments are not 
 to be had at a lower price, do without accom-
 
 THE ROSE OF ASHURST. 239 
 
 plishments. Let her be a healthy merry house- 
 maid, rather than a sickly, miserable governess." 
 
 " Ah, sir, ambition. We all have it — it is an 
 integral portion of every human heart, I fear. 
 A domestic servant ! Amy ! I am afraid I 
 could not bear that." 
 
 *' 1 put the extreme case ; there is no reason 
 in the world why Amy should not be properly 
 prepared at home for the place you propose her 
 for. What she can get, let her get by all 
 means — cultivate her mind as you are doing, 
 cultivate her heart as you are doing, call forth 
 and develope her natural powers — her good 
 sense, activity, readiness, and quick perception, 
 and accomplished or not, any wise woman w^ould 
 be anxious to have her about her children. 
 Pooh ! for accomplishments, the purse can al- 
 ways command themy 
 
 " Thank you, sir. What you are pleased to 
 say is a great relief to me. I know that you 
 have experience in — you know that world well 
 — into which Amy must sometime or other enter,
 
 240 THE ROSE OF ASHURST. 
 
 if she is to maintain herself respectably when I 
 am gone. It is a satisfaction to find that my 
 own thoughts had led me to much the same 
 conclusions. But I have been afraid — afraid in 
 a point of so much importance, that I might be 
 mistaken, and only yielding to prejudices and my 
 own peculiar notions. I can scarcely be capable 
 of judging justly of such matters, having lived in 
 this secluded place for so great a part of my life. 
 A little world of our own ! — which, until the last 
 few years, this village of Ashurst hterally was." 
 
 " I will speak to Lady Vynour about Amy — 
 she must have remarked the child — she will 
 never lose sight of her." 
 
 " Alas, sir ! Lady Vynour ! Her glass will 
 be run out before mine." 
 
 " You don't think so ?" 
 
 " A good constitution is the seedling oak ; 
 sound at heart and slow to decay. A constitu- 
 tion weakened in its youth by too artificial a 
 rearing, is as a delicate exotic plant, pushed for- 
 ward in the hot-house to exquisite slenderness
 
 THE ROSE OF ASHURST. 241 
 
 and beauty ; but the first adverse wind it meets 
 with cuts it down. It fades, dies, and is seen 
 no more." 
 
 Mrs. Grant did not, perhaps, work out her 
 illustration remarkably well, but I understood 
 what she meant. 
 
 " And Ellen — Lady Vynour is one of these 
 hot-house plants ?" 
 
 " Sir, in goodness, in loveliness, in all that can 
 adorn a woman, Lady Vynour is without an 
 equal. Is it not a sin and a shame that they 
 could not make her this at school without un- 
 dermining her health by ridiculous privations, 
 which would better have become a convent of 
 Carmelite nuns than a school for the education 
 of English gentlemen's daughters — daughters, 
 sir, who are intended for wives and mothers. 
 To say nothing of tasks and intellectual exer- 
 tions far beyond their strength, which bear down 
 all the energies and free spirits of young girls 
 by their absurd severity ; there are all sorts of 
 ill-judged regulations, as I understand, carried 
 
 VOL. I. R
 
 242 THE ROSE OF ASHURST. 
 
 out in such places, equally injurious to health 
 and happiness. Think of Lady Vynour ! For in- 
 stance, that delicate young creature, accustonmed 
 to all the comforts of a rich and tender father's 
 house, and the light privations of childhood, not 
 being allowed a fire in her bed-room even in the 
 depth of winter — being stinted in the very food 
 vitally necessary to a growing girl ; and at the 
 same time obliged to forestall large portions of 
 the sleep her weariness and her girlhood re- 
 quired, to get up these preposterous lessons — 
 lessons upon things it matters not one silver 
 penny whether a girl ever knows or not. And 
 what, I would ask, is given in exchange for 
 this useless erudition ? Her youth, her prime, 
 her health, her spirits, her energy, and happi- 
 ness, perhaps, for life. Lady Vynour being so 
 delicate and susceptible a creature, might suffer 
 in proportion more than others ; but it is the 
 same in degree with all, and the fairest and most 
 precious are those who can the least bear it." 
 The aged woman's face kindled up as she
 
 THE ROSE OF ASHURST. 243 
 
 spoke, a faint colour rose to her pale cheek, her 
 dark eyes flashed. 
 
 " Is Ellen — is Lady Vynour so dehcate, 
 then?" 
 
 "A mere shadow — a constant sufferer — a 
 martyr to the meanness- and the folly of a Mrs. 
 So-and-so — but an angel, one of the Almighty's 
 suffering-taught angels." 
 
 " If that was Mrs. So-and-So's doing, there 
 is something at least to be said on her side." 
 
 " No thanks to her," said the angry old lady, 
 now thoroughly aroused. " The perfection was 
 in the original type. Methinks little thanks is 
 owing to Mrs. What-do-you-call-her for taking 
 all the strength and vitaHty out of the fairest 
 plant that ever blossomed to adorn God's gar- 
 den on earth, so that the first frost will kill it." 
 
 *' I wonder, seeing this, you could hesitate 
 for a moment, as to whether you would send 
 Amy to a school or not." 
 
 " Ah, sir ! it is not a parallel case — Amy has 
 to get her living. Do you think that if I were 
 
 R 2
 
 244 THE ROSE OF ASHURST. 
 
 rich and independent, I would hesitate for a 
 moment ? Do you think I would sacrifice my 
 child to this grim phantom of useless learning ? 
 What was that horrid goddess, before whose 
 altar the Spartans used to torture their children ! 
 This is a more odious, deformed, and prepos- 
 terous worship. Why, I hear, that even in 
 their mother's houses, children and young grow- 
 ing girls are shut up for hours and hours in 
 little close rooms — learning. Heaven knows 
 what ! — learning, to hate to learn, mostly, I 
 believe — and the sweet sky, and the fresh air, 
 and the delicious liberty, and running, and 
 jumping, and screaming, and all that develops 
 the creature, and brings it out at last, all joy, 
 and freshness, and truth, and power, is lost or 
 sacrificed to this absurd ambition. Why, I 
 have heard of a governess thinking herself ill- 
 used ! — ill-used, forsooth ! — because a mother 
 insisted on more relaxation, exercise, and health- 
 ful enjoyment for a delicate child than suited 
 the governess's ideas. The child's acquirements
 
 THE ROSE OF ASHURST. 245 
 
 would not do credit to the governess, — save us 
 all ! Oh, the world is made for teachers and 
 tyrants, not for children and people." 
 
 I could scarcely help smiling at the old lady's 
 vehemence. She quicidy perceived it, stopped 
 instantly, sighed, sank back in her chair, and 
 murmured, — " Impotent old age, impotent old 
 age ! garrulous and feeble. I beg your pardon, 
 sir ; Nestor used to bore the Greeks with his 
 old world saws, which he thought wisdom. It 
 has been the same ever since. Great age is 
 tedious." 
 
 " You mistake me altogether. I did not 
 think you tedious — far, far from that — Or your 
 wisdom, old world. I assure you, that I, at 
 least, heartily wish it could get listened to in the 
 new world, for it is»very much wanted." 
 
 She smiled benignly from the place where her 
 head rested against her chair — she held out her 
 wrinkled hand. 
 
 " You are good. To be kind to old age is 
 yet more benevolent than to be tender to in-
 
 246 THE ROSE OF ASHURST. 
 
 fancy. Age wants it as much, but has far less 
 power to win it. Though weak, we are apt to 
 be violent ; when once excited, our thoughts and 
 words seem to run away with us. You are 
 considerate enough to understand and excuse 
 this. Do you love flowers ? Do you like old- 
 fashioned flowers ? — such as ranunculuses, and 
 hyacinths, tulips, and so forth ?" 
 
 " I have quite a silly passion for them." 
 " Will you be so good as to call Amy ?" 
 " Amy, gather that large basket full of the 
 very finest of our flowers that you can find. 
 There's a pleasure for you my little girl ! for 
 this once in your life you may go into the gar- 
 den, take your scissors, and cut every one of 
 
 the flowers that you think most beautiful It's 
 
 to make a large nosegay for this gentleman, 
 and I dare say he will let you have one or two 
 of the flowers for yourself. You will not re- 
 fuse," she said, turning to me, as Amy, in ec- 
 stacies with the commission, left the room. 
 " There never was living child who did not long
 
 THE ROSE OF ASHURST. 24? 
 
 to crop every flower it admired. The desire to 
 leave them on the stem is an affection of later 
 growth. I am sure you will not refuse to let 
 me indulge my little grandchild in her own 
 way." 
 
 Nothing was to be said after that ; and I 
 only wish you could have seen the nosegay ar- 
 ranged in an ancient china blue and white vase 
 that was placed upon Mrs. Lewis's table that day. 
 
 No old flower picture you ever saw exceeded 
 it in profusion of beauty — but you have had 
 description enough of flowers for one while, and 
 I leave you to picture the nosegay for yourselves.
 
 248 THE ROSE OF ASHURST. 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 ** With noble thirst his bosom burns/' 
 
 Whitehead. 
 
 PAUL LEWIS TO LADY VYNOUR. 
 
 " I VENTURE to address Lady Vynour, know- 
 ing, by experience, the tenderness of her nature, 
 and how ready she is to sympathise with woe, 
 in any of the innumerable shapes of human suf- 
 fering in whicb it can present itself to the sym- 
 pathetic observer. 
 
 " The forms under which it presents itself in 
 this vast city — this opulent, proud, magnificent 
 metropolis — tbis emporium of tbe wealth and
 
 THE ROSE OF ASHURST. 249 
 
 luxury of the great world, are various as the 
 many-coloured robe of the patriarch, and, like 
 his fatal garment, only the signal of coming 
 death. But it is not on account of the sorrows of 
 enormous masses of my fellow-creatures, nume- 
 rous as they be, that I am about to make an 
 appeal to her heart. 
 
 " Sterne, in his ^ Captive,' says, justly, that 
 one individual instance brought before the ima- 
 ginative eye, goes farther in exciting the heart's 
 commiseration than millions of such instances 
 of human oppression heaped together. And I 
 am going to presume so far upon Lady Vynour's 
 benignant temper as to lay before her, in some 
 detail, that one form of human misery with 
 which I have more particularly to do. 
 
 " Your ladyship has often, no doubt, had occa- 
 sion to dw^ell with compassion upon the suifer- 
 ings of the caged lark, fluttering and beating 
 its small wings against the cruel wires of his 
 cage — yet he drinks the fresh air of heaven, the 
 bright sunshine gilds his little prison, he hears
 
 250 THE ROSE OF ASHURST. 
 
 his fellows in the field — he is a captive, but not 
 in a dungeon — I speak of a caged lark in the 
 country, but what a contrast is offered by the 
 fate of the same little bird in town ! 
 
 " Immured in the corner of some dark court or 
 narrow street, surrounded with the grim and 
 dreary twilight of a day, which the sun never 
 ripens into real day — inhaling pestiferous smells, 
 listening to harsh, discordant noises, the very 
 spring of harmonious being poisoned at its 
 source — can he sing ? 
 
 " Plaintively he utters forth some feeble notes, 
 but the spirit of song within is deadened, — it 
 expires ! and with it the poor flutterer droops, 
 and fades, withers away in spirit, and dies ! 
 
 " My lady, there are men — there are youths — 
 scarcely yet to be classed with bearded men, at 
 this very moment drooping, perishing, fading 
 away in misery far exceeding that of the poor 
 little lark. 
 
 "Like her they were created to soar aloft, 
 spring upwards from the dewy grass, inhale the
 
 THE ROSE OF ASHURST. 251 
 
 pure air of the empyrean, and pour forth their 
 heart in joyous song ! . . . . 
 
 " The glories of nature ! the beaming sun ! 
 the azure sky, the fleecy cloud, the golden sun- 
 set, the wealth, and the beauty, and the per- 
 fume, and the harmony of the fair universe, are 
 pecuharly their birthright ! It is the element in 
 which they were born to live — in which alone 
 they can live. 
 
 " Others there are, and it is well, who, with 
 coarser perceptions, and more grovelling aspira- 
 tions, can be content, like the muckworm or the 
 mole, to adhere to the base but to them pro- 
 fitable clay. Mammon is their God, Gain their 
 life. Gold their joy. Let such pursue their 
 path ! Let such accumulate the hoarded trea- 
 sures of the earth ! but ah ! wing not the lark — 
 retrench not his pinions — force him not down 
 to the darksome dust, where he can only pine 
 and — silenced, the bright exhilaration of his 
 heaven-mounting song — finally expire. 
 
 " Mr. Strickland is a wise and benevolent man,
 
 252 THE ROSE OF ASHURST. 
 
 no one can presume to deny that. To my bro- 
 ther and to me he has proved a great benefactor ; 
 he has educated us, and started us, as it is called, 
 in the world. 
 
 " Exercising his fine penetration into the cha- 
 racters of men and the relation of things, he 
 has placed my brother where his talents are duly 
 exercised, where his merits are displayed and re- 
 spected — in his element, in short — where he is 
 happy and free. 
 
 " But can as much be said for myself? Was 
 equal discrimination shown as regards him who 
 pens these lines ? — Equally fine perception of the 
 true vocation, of the necessary adaptation of man 
 to the circumstances, and of the circumstances 
 to the man ? . . . . 
 
 " I was born a poet. 
 
 " I am not ashamed to declare my conviction 
 of it. I glory in the proud name. I glory in 
 attaching myself, one additional hapless victim, 
 to the noble array of martyrs in the cause of 
 poesy ! — For martyrs are we all 1 BUnded Homer !
 
 THE ROSE OF ASHURST. 253 
 
 blind, unhonoured Milton ! Shakespeare ! Dry- 
 den ! Burns ! — Glorious martyrs to the cause of 
 beauty, harmony, and song ! Martyrs all — for 
 is not the poet by his very nature marked out 
 to suffer ? — formed as he is of a finer clay 
 than that of the ruder elements about him. 
 — Are not his imaginations more vast — his as- 
 pirations more grand — his sensibilities more 
 acute? — alas ! how morbidly acute to pleasure and 
 to pain ! What poets have suffered is written 
 upon the scroll of time. One more inscribes his 
 name, and adds to the sad, but precious list. — 
 
 " I wander from my purpose — but I would fain 
 describe — I would feign awaken the fine sensi- 
 bilities of your ladyship's kind heart to a sense 
 of the miseries attendant upon certain situa- 
 tions ! — I will proceed — 
 
 " There is a poet, then, with mind and heart 
 high strung, with perceptions of beauty all alive 
 — with appetite for the enjoyments of nature 
 unlimited — a poet, I make bold to say, in every 
 sense of the word ! — And he! — He is, at this
 
 254 THE ROSE OF ASHURST. 
 
 very moment, pent up day after day in a large 
 unwholesome shop, measuring by the yard tapes 
 and linens, dowlas and baize, to any rascal cus- 
 tomer who chooses to enter this murksome den 
 of darkness, and demand his attention. 
 
 " No matter where his thoughts may have 
 strayed, no matter how precious the combin- 
 ations his intellect and imagination may at that 
 moment be forming, he must leave and forget 
 them all — to do what? 
 
 " Not to serve and suifer in some vast and 
 glorious cause — the cause of mankind and his 
 fellow creatures ! Not to step forward the pro- 
 claimer of truth — fresh truths — maybe unpa- 
 latable truths — and perish in the attempt to 
 make himself heard, — No sacrifice grand and 
 high that ennobles at once and rewards the 
 victim, is demanded ! — 
 
 "No! 
 
 " What is he called upon to do ? — 
 
 " That which the poorest humdrum clod that 
 ever assumed for itself the title of man can
 
 THE ROSE OF ASHURST. 255 
 
 execute as well, or better, than he — Wield the 
 cloth yard — make up the bill, listen to all the 
 nonsensical prattle of the querulous or capricious 
 customer — present his account, and with a false, 
 deceitful smile of complacency upon his face 
 settle it, and receive the amount ! — 
 
 " The very cash he labours for being not his 
 own — He toils only to add to the already hoarded 
 heaps of his master — the capitalist his master ! 
 — and sighs as he asks, where is his own re- 
 ward? 
 
 " I lose myself again in declamation ! — but 
 briefly — this life is insupportable to me. And 
 I feel that it is to be endured no longer. — 
 
 *' What was to be done ? — 
 
 " I went down to see and consult my brother. 
 What did I get for my pains ? — words — words 
 — vain words ! 
 
 " My brother labours in his vocation and is 
 content ; he thinks, therefore, any man has but 
 to labour in his vocation, and he will find con- 
 tent. He forgets the nature of vocation ; — he
 
 256 THE ROSE OF ASHURST. 
 
 forgets the vital nature of that truth which lies 
 at the very foundation of society — Chacun selon 
 la capacite ! He forgets that capacities differ. 
 That Alexander would have been miserable as 
 the teacher of the school, though Dionysius 
 might wield the rod with satisfaction — that some 
 are made for toil of the hands — some for labour 
 of the brain — some to adorn society — some 
 merely to find bread for it ! — some to instruct 
 and exalt the moral perceptions of their fellow 
 men. . . That we are happy where we like to 
 be — that we like to be where we are fitted to 
 be ! — and that, with that one condition, man is 
 noble and free ; without it, a lash-driven slave ! 
 " All I got from Walter in return for my 
 objurations, was an exhortation to return to this 
 detested shop and be content. 
 
 *' ' He laughs at scars that never felt a wound,* &c. &c. 
 
 " It is easy for the well-satisfied man to 
 preach contentment to the wretch who is, and 
 cannot help being, miserable ! Miserable ! be-
 
 THE ROSE OF ASHURST. 257 
 
 cause he is stretched upon the rack of repug- 
 nance, aversion, abhorrence of the task he has 
 daily and hourly, without let or change, to per- 
 form. It is a rack ! the word is not too strong 
 — The tortures and the struggles I endure, be- 
 tween my wish not to prove ungrateful to Mr. 
 Strickland, my wish to conform to the advice 
 of my brother, and the furious efforts of my 
 nature to break these accursed fetters and be 
 free, might form a picture for one of the circles 
 in the terrific hell of Dante. 
 
 " Let me take breath — let me cool, and speak 
 coolly. The subject overpowers me — but I 
 will be calm. 
 
 " After viewing the matter in all its lights, I 
 address myself, as my last resource, my lady, to 
 you. 
 
 " You are a woman, and therefore sympathis- 
 ing and kind. You are a gentlewoman, and 
 therefore refined, and a judge of the wretched- 
 ness that waits on refinement out of place. You 
 are powerful, for the mild splendour of your 
 
 VOL. I. S
 
 258 THE ROSE or ASHURST. 
 
 radiance beams among the sons and daughters 
 of that aristocracy to which, as to the starry 
 host existing in a separate sphere, we are taught 
 reverently to look up ! But, and if we look 
 up. Is it not the duty on their side to look 
 down ? 
 
 " Exempted from the bitter, irritating evils 
 of which I complain, ought they to smile in 
 derision at woes they have never experienced ? 
 or should not they rather compassionate, assist, 
 and strive to rescue ! 
 
 •* Your ladyship is all-powerful with Mr. 
 Strickland — the ruler of my humble destiny. 
 
 " Will you speak a word for me ? 
 
 " Will you make him understand — for it is 
 vain for me to attempt it — the incongruity of 
 the life to which he has assigned me ? Will you 
 entreat him for once to relax the stern rule 
 which he has imposed upon himself — to regard 
 a suffering fellow-creature, and condescend to 
 reconsider his award — condescend to reflect whe- 
 ther, in condemning a man like me to the grind-
 
 THE ROSE OF ASHURST. 259 
 
 stone — my nose bowed down to labour at it like 
 some senseless brute — he is doing well. — Whether 
 it would not be better, kinder, worthier, more 
 economic even, as regards the general interests 
 of the race to which we both belong, that some 
 more fitting task should be allotted to me ? 
 
 " Might I distantly hint at a pair of colours ? 
 
 *' I feel the spirit of a man — of a brave — I 
 will not say a great man, stirring within me ! 
 Let me serve my country I 
 
 *' I ask no more. 
 
 " Take me but from this base counter — and 
 let me die! — Only let me yield my latest breath, 
 facing the foes of Albion in the field, and I ask 
 no more ! — So will I surrender up my being, 
 content and grateful. 
 
 " Better die ten thousand deaths than live ! 
 
 " Allow me to whisper one more argument 
 for your ladyship's private ear, and I have done. 
 
 "Temptations beset me on every side — 1 
 shall yield at last ! I feel my mortal strength 
 give way — I feel myself generally sinking — 
 
 s 2
 
 260 THE ROSE OF ASHURST. 
 
 sinking into the vortex of sorrow and sin ! where 
 I shall inevitably be lost, unless a benevolent 
 hand is extended to extricate me." 
 
 " Ha, ha, ha ! ho, ho, ho ! ha, ha, ha ! A 
 pair of colours for a crop-winged lark sinking 
 in the vortex of temptation ! Ha, ha, ha ! ho, 
 ho, ho ! A pair of colours — a pair of colours ! 
 Ha, ha, ha ! ho, ho, ho !" cried Mr. Strickland, 
 as he fell back in his chair and wiped his eyes. 
 " Why it's perfectly delicious — Ha, ha, ha ! 
 Why, my dear child, how can I thank you enough 
 for letting me see this letter ? Ha, ha, ha ! I 
 shall die of it — I shall die of it — it's dehcious 
 — A pair of colours ! — Dear child, you have a 
 design upon my life — I shall die of it — Ho, ho, 
 ho, ho !" 
 
 " But, my dear uncle " 
 
 " Nay, if the letter has melted your soft heart, 
 it will be too good — ha, ha ! Did'st ever see 
 Phoebus kiss a dish of butter ? — Nay, nay, don't
 
 THE ROSE OF ASHURST. 261 
 
 put a grave face upon it, or I shall really ex- 
 pire ! Why, my dear, sweet, tender, delicious 
 simpleton, are you really taken in with this 
 lamentable stuff ? Ha, ha ! ho, ho, ho ! You 
 don't — you can't say so." 
 
 " But, my dear uncle " 
 
 *' I protest you are — I really protest you are 
 actually touched by this deplorable effusion. 
 You are ! Don't deny it '....Dear, sweet child ! 
 — you adorable goose ! Ellen 1 why, I really 
 beheve you are quite moved — Oh dear me ! it's 
 too good. What shall I do with myself?" 
 
 " Do with yourself, dear uncle ?" said Ellen, 
 trying vainly to hide a smile ; " why, do as a 
 great orb like you ought to do — look down from 
 your sphere upon an unhappy satellite, and 
 put yourself, if you can, into the place of this 
 aspiring young poet, measuring dowlas in Mr. 
 Howish's dark shop." 
 
 " And what else is he good for, I'd be glad 
 to know?" starting up and his face kindling. 
 " What better than that is the young scapegrace
 
 262 THE ROSE OF ASHURST. 
 
 good for, I'd be glad to know? Measuring 
 dowlas in a shop ! I'm ashamed of you, Ellen. 
 Why, did not your grandfather stand behind a 
 counter in his youth, measuring dowlas, as you 
 call it — and what a man he became ! A young 
 rascal ! Not good enough for him ! — well, then 
 — he's of an aspiring nature... Let him go and 
 climb chimneys." 
 
 " I don't mean, indeed, dearest uncle — I 
 should be deeply ashamed of myself if I could 
 mean anything hke that ! — If I could be so ab- 
 surd, so ridiculous, so silly, as to look down 
 upon any honest calling." 
 
 " I'd not have you dare do it before me, if you 
 did. In this country the greatest men among 
 us have risen from what you are pleased to 
 name honest callings. It's the glory of the 
 land — it's the glory of the country ! We pick 
 up all our great men wheresoever we find them ; 
 no place is too low to stoop to, if so be we pick 
 up a first-rate man. And we do find 'em all, 
 and we have 'em all, and we use 'em all, too
 
 THE ROSE OF ASHURST. 263 
 
 Madam Ellen, every man jack of em 1 I 
 don't believe there's one single first-rate in this 
 kingdom that don't make his way and get to 
 the top of the tree, and serve his country as a 
 first-rate alone can do. But mind, Madam E., 
 there are no such numbers of first-rates to be 
 found. First-rates ain't started out of every 
 bush, I can tell you ! — but as for whipper-snapper 
 pretenders, with a second-rate talent like this, 
 why, you may have them by bushels, by quarters, 
 by loads. They swarm like locusts — they are 
 the pests of society — because they have not 
 even sense enough to measure their own strength, 
 to know their own place, and labour honourably 
 in their proper vocation." 
 
 " But, uncle, you yourself own that even theij 
 are something above the common run." 
 
 " The more the pity — the more the mischief — 
 if they are — because they never know how much 
 or rather^ how little they are above it — that's 
 what it is. A man can string a few doggerel 
 rhymes together, or sing-song verses, if you
 
 264 THE ROSE OF ASHURST. 
 
 will have it, and people like you call it poetry ! 
 Every dunce writes poetry of a sort now, or he 
 can draw a man driving a cart, or a great big 
 goddess as long as my arm, or write a trashy 
 novel, or something or other — do anything in 
 short but what is useful — and then, forsooth ! 
 his talents are so promising ! He's not to get 
 his bread like other honest folk, in an honest 
 way, by being of some use ! But take this 
 along with you, my dear," lowering his tone 
 and sitting down by her again — "Men won't 
 pay their money for what does them no manner 
 of good. They may give a little in charity to 
 a poor starving pretence of an artist, but they 
 won't buy — they don't want these things, and 
 they won't buy — they won't go on buying — 
 they won't give good useful bread and cheese 
 for what's of no value to them or anybody ! — 
 Half and half art ! — half and half literature ! 
 If a man wants to get a living, I tell you, he 
 must furnish men with what is useful or pleasant 
 — what they want, in short, or what they covet.
 
 THE ROSE OF ASHURST. 265 
 
 not with stuff everybody, if they would own the 
 truth, loathes ! If they have talents — I hate 
 the very word — why, their talents may amuse 
 their leisure ! So let this young jackanapes, 
 when he's done measuring his dowlas, keep 
 himself out of temptation, and recreate his spirit 
 with courting the muse ! — Writing songs Hke 
 Burns ! Ha, ha, ha ! — I really shall die of it, 
 if you look so woe-begone and compassionate, 
 Ellen." 
 
 " But, my dearest uncle, just hsten for one 
 moment. This is an individual case. What 
 have we to do with what other men will do — 
 buy or not buy — value or not value ? — Here is 
 a poor wretch of a boy, panting for fresh air in 
 a close London shop — sickening of an employ- 
 ment which affords not the slightest room for 
 exercising his real powers. The good Samaritan, 
 uncle ! . . . Our neighbour ! Every one is our 
 neighbour who comes in our way — this poor 
 young man is come in yours." 
 
 '* That he has — that he has — and be hanged
 
 266 THE ROSE OF ASHURST. 
 
 to him ! and I'd have him get out of it as fast 
 as he can. A young scoundrel ! Have I not 
 done enough ? — Have I not saved him from 
 the Union — for there he must have gone if I 
 had not stepped in... given him a good educa- 
 tion — no, not given, offered ! — for he would not 
 take it — put him apprentice to the most re- 
 spectable man in London, at a place where body 
 and soul are both looked to, as if all these 
 young fellows were that good man's own chil- 
 dren!... And he's to come in my way with a 
 * Don't like it' (mimicking), and 'a pair of 
 colours' — and ^ he'll fall into temptation.' I 
 vdsh he may — I wish to goodness he may, and 
 be sent to Clerkenwell and a taste of hard 
 labour — or a good flogging would be better 
 still !... Good Samaritan! I'm ashamed you 
 can run on so, Ellen ! There's a difference be- 
 tween the man you find in your way, and the 
 man that thrusts himself into your way, I should 
 think." 
 
 " But they may both be objects of pity."
 
 THE ROSE OF ASHURST. 26^ 
 
 " Ellen, Ellen ! — don't, don't. You're a clever 
 girl, and you're a good girl — never was a better 
 ...but beware — we may be too soft, I had al- 
 most said too good. Look the matter in the 
 face. Is there anything about this young man 
 — ask yourself the question calmly — that you 
 should endeavour to persuade me for his sake to 
 break a rule, which I hold, and I believe you 
 think justly, to be essential to my effecting any 
 valuable good — essential to my purpose of raising 
 hardworking, determined, free, and high-spirited 
 men, in place of a set of weak, sickly dependents 
 upon my goodness and generosity. — My gene- 
 rosity, forsooth ! A pack of flatterers and 
 bloodsuckers ! murmurers and idlers !" 
 
 " Ah, dear uncle, forg've me !" 
 
 "I have explained to you," he continued 
 with considerable feeling in his tone, " how great 
 is the difficulty for a wealthy man like me to do 
 good in the way I desire, without creating an 
 evil far greater than the highest benefits I can 
 confer, — that of giving rise to a spirit of de-
 
 268 THE ROSE OF ASHURST. 
 
 pendence. It lies dormant in us all. We will 
 not work, and bear, and strive, and battle as 
 we ought to do — as it becomes a man to 
 do — if we are not forced to depend upon our 
 own exertions. If we can get another to do 
 for us what we none of us like to do for our- 
 selves, — if, when we fail through indolence, 
 want of virtue or want of skill, there is one to 
 fall back upon — we never shall be laborious — 
 what I call being laborious — or virtuous, orderly, 
 and self-denying — or skilful to the extent of our 
 capacity... and therefore, Ellen, you know you 
 approved my rule. Once fairly started, nothing 
 more, under any circumstance whatsoever, was to 
 be expected from me. This rule must be like 
 the rule of the Medes and Persians, never to 
 be broken, or it is in its very nature worthless. 
 Once grant that circumstances might plead for 
 an exemption, and every lad among them all 
 would have the pretence of a circumstance to 
 offer, — not perhaps enough to move me, but 
 enough to weaken him. No, Ellen ; it goes
 
 THE ROSE OF ASHURST. 269 
 
 hard with me now and then to adhere to my 
 plan, but I have done it, and, please God, will 
 continue to do so; and I am not going to break 
 it the first time for such a whining, good-for- 
 nothing, hop-o'-my-thumb ballad-monger as 
 this." 
 
 " My dear uncle, I have not a word more to 
 say. I beg your pardon ; I was very weak and 
 foolish indeed. A thousand times before you 
 have condescended to explain to me the reasons 
 for this rigid rule of action. I acknowledge 
 the justice of it. I beg your pardon, indeed 
 I do." 
 
 " My dear child !" kissing her — " that is 
 more than I have a right to ask. I am not 
 always sure that I am right myself — but in this 
 case, I have not a shadow of a doubt. To tell 
 the truth, my dear, this gentleman was always 
 a selfish, idle, good-for-nothing fellow — with a 
 spice of talent about him — perhaps — a pretty 
 good spice — just enough to pervert his own 
 understanding, and to excuse and palliate to
 
 270 THE ROSE OF ASHURST. 
 
 himself, conduct very discouraging to all who 
 meant him well. He never would work — he 
 never would apply. I intended at first to start 
 him in some of the higher grades of hfe, such 
 as require a learned education — but he never 
 would learn. He was fit for nothing when his 
 education came to an end — the result was a 
 mere shallow smattering of shreds and bits of 
 knowledge, which any ingenious mind can pick 
 up without labour ; but which, like other cheap 
 things, wont stand the test when they are 
 brought to it. He was totally incapable of 
 making his way in any profession that requires 
 perseverance and self-devotion. He was only 
 fit for such work as must be done, and what it 
 required no particular mental effort to do. As 
 a lad behind the counter I knew he could get a 
 decent living, and could not much hurt anybody 
 by his scrambling habits of mind. I got him 
 a place where everything good lay before him ; 
 even self education, if he chose it. That good 
 man, Howish, furnishes his dependents with the
 
 THE ROSE OF ASHURST. 271 
 
 means even for that, if they will make use of 
 them. But no, thank you — my young gentle- 
 man likes better to cultivate his fine taste by 
 frequenting theatres, than by solid reading and 
 attending lectures at the Pantechnicon." 
 
 There was silence for some time. 
 
 Before, however, finally dropping the subject, 
 Mr. Strickland took it up once more. 
 
 *' The only thing that vexes me in all this, 
 and to which I look with some anxiety, is 
 Walter. Fm afraid for Walter. — I have my 
 fears that this young rapscallion will go a beg- 
 ging to Walter, and rob him of his honest 
 gains." 
 
 " Oh ! I hope not — Paul cannot be so bad as 
 that — he'd be too much ashamed surely to do 
 that." 
 
 " My dear child, a conceited puppy like 
 Master Paul is ashamed of nothing, and a self- 
 interested reasoner like him finds reason to 
 justify anything. Poor Walter ! But it can't
 
 272 THE ROSE OF ASHURST. 
 
 be helped. We are all exposed to the curse 
 of troublesome relations — and who so much as 
 I, with my plaguing Ellen ! Walter must do 
 like me — and take care of himself."
 
 THE ROSE OF ASHURST. 273 
 
 CHAPTER XL 
 
 " 'Twas a sweet smile — so full of human love 
 Of gentle tenderness and kindly heart .... 
 It doubly blessed her — " 
 
 New Griselda — W. C. Bennett. 
 
 The window stood open, and let in the soft 
 cool air of a fine autumn evening ; but there was, 
 nevertheless, a small fire in the bright grate, and 
 the shining copper tea-kettle was humming and 
 singing his pleasant household psalm by its side. 
 
 A round table in the centre of the little sitting- 
 room was set out for tea. The tea-things of 
 china, with the least and cheapest of gold edges, 
 were ready, and there was a china basket of 
 
 VOL. I. T
 
 274 THE ROSE OF ASHURST. 
 
 autumn fruit, in the centre, a present from 
 the Hall, plums and some peaches, adorned with 
 leaves and flowers. 
 
 Two httle children were already seated at the 
 table, rocking about in their chairs, in that in- 
 describable w^ay in which children express high 
 delight, exchanging happy glances, and Httle sly 
 jokes with each other ; and there was the nice 
 young mother, stepping briskly up and down, 
 now in the surgery — now into the kitchen to 
 overlook Biddy's proceedings — and at times 
 opening the window to listen whether Nell's 
 sober trot might be heard advancing up the road. 
 
 " Here he comes at last," she cried ; and the 
 children with a scream of delight prepared to 
 scramble down from their chairs. 
 
 " Now keep still, good children ; you know 
 papa comes in so tired. Wait till he has been 
 upstairs and made himself comfortable, and then 
 Amy shall run and open the door for him, and 
 Faby shall lead him to his chair." 
 
 His arm-chair, which was duly set by the side
 
 THE ROSE OF ASHURST. 275 
 
 of the table, turned towards the fire, and yet 
 commanding a view of the window, so as to 
 unite all pleasures and comforts at once. 
 
 The step of Nell entering the stable-yard, and 
 of the old man who officiated as groom and gar- 
 dener, was heard, as also that of the young man 
 briskly entering the house, and the wife left the 
 room in a moment. 
 
 Soon cheerful voices were heard over-head, 
 and steps, passing to and fro, and the young sur- 
 geon, having made his ablutions, and changed 
 his dress, came down fresh, cheerful, and happy, 
 with a capital appetite to enjoy his tea. He 
 entered the little parlour followed by his pretty 
 wife, and the little children were presently cling- 
 ing to his knees and kissing his hands, and 
 leading him forward to his arm-chair, into which 
 he sank with a sigh of intense enjoyment, his 
 handsome face bright with health, cheerful with 
 the sense of duty well performed, and his eyes 
 beaming with love and good-will. 
 
 Then instantly the busy Kate vanished and 
 
 T 2
 
 276 THE ROSE OF ASHURST. 
 
 presently reappeared, bringing up a dish of deli- 
 cious hot muffins, which she set before her 
 husband. 
 
 And first of all the master, the loved lord and 
 master, must be served, and then the children 
 in their turn must have their share, and tea was 
 poured out, and the happy little feast went pros- 
 perously on. 
 
 They chatted and they laughed ; and Walter 
 told of what he had been doing, and the children 
 had their little history of adventures among the 
 autumn woods to relate, and Kate had a little 
 gossip of the village in store, and so they laughed 
 and they chatted, and Walter stretched himself 
 all along in that comfortable arm-chair of his, 
 and enjoyed the fire, and his tea, and said every- 
 thing was so good, it was quite dangerous to his 
 morals — and that he should become a perfect 
 epicnire, in spite of Abernethy and all his dic- 
 tum s. At last tea was over, and things cleared 
 away ; and then Amy went home, and Fabian 
 to his bed; and Walter, with an air of inex-
 
 THE ROSE OF ASHURST. 277 
 
 pressible content and satisfaction, leaned his head 
 against the back of his arm-chair, and watched 
 his wife, who finished putting things to rights, 
 and then took her work and a low stool, and sat 
 down by her husband's knee. 
 
 Fondly he laid his hand upon that dear head 
 of bright hair, now bent a little downwards — in- 
 dustrious housewife ! over her work. 
 
 " My best, dearest, sweetest Kate !" whispered 
 he. 
 
 Her face spoke that which swells in a woman's 
 heart, when she knows and feels that her hus- 
 band loves her and values her, and that she 
 makes him happy. 
 
 These were a few moments of silent, exqui- 
 site, ineffable bliss on both sides. 
 
 By and by they began to chat again, and 
 Walter said, " No letter for me, I suppose ?" 
 
 " Oh, dear, yes. I forgot. There is one for 
 you, but I don't know the handwriting." 
 
 " No more do I," as she handed it to him. 
 
 He broke the seal and looked at the signature.
 
 278 THE ROSE OF ASHURST. 
 
 "Gilbert! Gilbert! what? Gilbert Howish I" 
 
 And he turned pale. 
 
 " What can Mr. Howish have to write to me 
 about?" 
 
 She looked up anxiously, as he with a troubled 
 brow turned a little to the light, and began pe- 
 rusing the letter. 
 
 It ran thus : — 
 
 mr. howish to mr. lewis. 
 " Sir, 
 
 *' I am sorry to be under the necessity 
 of informing you that Tuesday last — being the 
 day before yesterday — your brother disappeared 
 and has not been heard of since. As he has 
 ventured, more times than I like to name, to 
 stay out all night without asking my permission, 
 but has usually resumed his place in tolerable 
 time on the subsequent morning, I was not at 
 first under any great uneasiness upon his account, 
 though I confess to feeling considerable displea- 
 sure at his conduct ; but as now eight-and-forty
 
 THE EOSE OF ASHURST. 279 
 
 hours have elapsed, and no tidings of him been 
 heard, I think it proper to make you acquainted 
 with what has happened. 
 
 " I have suspected for some time that your 
 brother's intention has been to tire my patience 
 out, provoke me to dismiss him, and so make 
 the rupture of the agreement rest with myself; 
 but this, for many reasons, I have resolved not 
 to do. It would not suit me to let young men 
 find, that when they are weary of their engage- 
 ment, or were tempted by what they think would 
 be higher remuneration in another place, thus to 
 escape the penalty of the bond they have entered 
 into with me before they were admitted to a 
 place in my concern. The bond is exacted in 
 order to give me security, that when I have 
 taken pains to make good servants, I shall not be 
 outbid for them by competitors in trade who may 
 not be inclined to take the trouble I do about 
 my young men when first they enter my service, 
 yet are glad enough to profit by the habits of 
 order and good conduct, I am proud to say, they
 
 280 THE ROSE OF ASHURST. 
 
 mostly acquire with me. Upon this account, 
 and being at the head of so large a number of 
 persons, exact discipline is indispensable. I, 
 therefore, very unwillingly, give you this trouble, 
 to inform you, that in spite of the vexation and 
 worry Paul Lewis's conduct has occasioned me, 
 I intend to hold him to his agreement ; and, if 
 I can catch him, shall insist upon his returning 
 to his duty, or shall pursue him for the amount 
 of the forfeiture; and if he is cast into prison,, 
 and has to come out again through the Insol- 
 vent Court, all I can say is, that it will not be 
 done through harshness or ill-will upon my part, 
 but through the necessity under which I lie, to 
 make an example ; and to show — that, though I 
 hope I can be as indulgent to the follies of youth 
 as any man, yet that I know when to be firm, 
 and that I will punish ill-conduct as well as en- 
 courage good behaviour. If your professional 
 duties would admit of it, I think it would be 
 advisable that you should come up to town to 
 see about this unpleasant business yourself.
 
 THE ROSE OF ASHURST. 281 
 
 " I have ordered your brother's boxes to be 
 searched. Everything of value it appears has 
 been taken away. He had very good, -not to 
 say expensive clothes, and various trinkets in the 
 way of studs, rings, and other foolish pieces of 
 extravagance, but all have disappeared. I am 
 afraid by this that he is gone upon some scheme 
 of his own, with the intention of never returning, 
 and that we n^ay hear no more of him. 
 
 " I am, Sir, your obedient servant, 
 
 " Gilbert Howish." 
 
 The little dream of happiness was at an 
 end. 
 
 Dark threatening visions of coming evil suc- 
 ceeded : like gloomy spectres floating in the 
 horizon. 
 
 Walter gave the letter to his wife, and covered 
 his face with his hand. 
 
 Kate's face was soon burning with indig- 
 nation, and her heart swelled with contempt 
 and anger, as she read the letter. Twice she
 
 282 THE ROSE OF ASHURST. 
 
 went through it without speaking. Good 
 woman ! she did violence by herself to keep 
 silence* till her rage had a little subsided ; she 
 would not pain Walter by teEing him all she 
 thought of his brother. 
 
 " Never did I imagine it would come to this," 
 poor Walter at last said. 
 
 She did not answer, as she justly might have 
 done, ** It is no more than I . all along ex- 
 pected." Good wife ! she thrust down the 
 rising words, and only pressed her husband's 
 hand. 
 
 " What must be done ?" 
 
 " I think you must go up to London, if you 
 can contrive it. That seems only a proper mark 
 of attention to Mr. Howish's wishes." 
 
 There was a pause, which Walter at last 
 broke, by saying, with a sigh — 
 
 " Well, dear, what we talked of as possible 
 some little time ago, is come to pass. T thought 
 I had persuaded him to be quiet, but you see it 
 was only delaying the evil. I had better, per-
 
 THE ROSE OF ASHURST. 283 
 
 haps, have let him taken his own way at 
 once. It would have spared this disgrace, at 
 least." 
 
 " No, dearest Walter, you did right. Don't 
 regret what you did and said. It was right, if 
 possible, to persuade him to be quiet and stick 
 to his place ; and as to the forfeiture, we can 
 pay it as well now as then." 
 
 " You do not go back from that intention," 
 he said, taking up her hand and kissing it, with 
 respect. 
 
 " You thought it due to your own and his 
 honour ; that is enough. But perhaps he may 
 yet return." 
 
 " I am impatient to get to town, but I can- 
 not possibly go up to-morrow. There is this 
 frightful accident of poor Thomas Grimes's. It 
 is absolutely necessary that I should not leave 
 him till things look better than they do at pre- 
 sent. In a couple of days, or so, the matter will 
 be decided. I ought not — nay, I will not leave 
 him till then."
 
 284 THE ROSE OF ASHURST. 
 
 " This is unlucky, but there is no help for it. 
 Duty must be done." 
 
 It was nearly a week before Walter was set 
 at liberty, and able to take a couple of days' 
 absence and go up to London. When he ar- 
 rived there, it was too late. The die was cast. 
 
 Paul had been discovered, dressed in his best 
 suit, doing the genteel critic at a low, immoral 
 theatre, among a party of young men still more 
 worthless and a good deal more clever than 
 himself; but he was a new acquisition, and was 
 hailed by them all with one voice, and received 
 with the honours due to genius — which high 
 gift was considered by every member of this dis- 
 tinguished company as his own peculiar and 
 indisputable attribute. Men they were, every 
 one of them — if their own word was to be taken 
 for it — men of the highest intellectual rank, 
 though an unjust and partial world chose to 
 deny them those distinctions which it reserved 
 for the dolts and dunces of the aristocracy, or 
 the cringing dependants upon wealth or power*
 
 THE ROSE OF ASHURST. 285 
 
 Lofty spirits were they, looking down with 
 scorn from the high altitudes of mental supe- 
 riority upon the base and venal throng, incapa- 
 ble of estimating their claims, or acknowledging 
 their pretensions. Leaders of the age, — in ad- 
 vance of their generation, and therefore, of course, 
 misunderstood and misprized, were they all ! 
 There they might be seen, seated in a side box at 
 this most low and vicious little theatre, dressed in 
 the true snob-dandy style — and in somewhat 
 American attitudes ; smoking cigars, sipping 
 brandy and water between the acts, noisily ap- 
 plauding the principal actress, and the low and 
 scandalous jokes of the buffoon ; or hissing and 
 cat-calling when anything was uttered or done 
 w^hich offended their taste, or called down their 
 lofty displeasure. 
 
 A policeman had been put upon the scent ; 
 he had entered the theatre in plain clothes; 
 descried his man, and civilly walked our friend 
 Paul away to prison. 
 
 Here our young gentleman was left to his own
 
 286 THE ROSE OF ASHURST. 
 
 reflections ; he found them sufficiently disagree- 
 able. 
 
 Caught he was in a trap. 
 
 Why had he been such a fool as to dawdle 
 in town, instead of making at once, as he had 
 intended, for Paris ? Paris was the only place for 
 him. Ah ! why had he suffered himself to be 
 over-persuaded ? Why was he not at this very 
 instant dancing at the bal masque at Paris, in- 
 stead of where he was ? He could have bitten 
 his finger-ends off, instead of the poor nails 
 which he gnawed at unceasingly, as he there sat 
 ruminating upon his fate. 
 
 Not ruminating in any profitable sense, be it 
 understood ; only meditating how he might best 
 get out of this scrape, and slip through the in- 
 tolerable shackles imposed by an " infamous and 
 tyrannical state of things." 
 
 Return to Mr. Howish's shop ! that was the 
 obvious alternative which first presented itself, 
 but that coute, qui coute, he was resolved not 
 to do. Pay his forfeit of two hundred pounds !
 
 THE ROSE OF ASHURST. 287 
 
 that, alas ! unless he submitted, he found, too 
 truly, that he should be forced to do ! Oh, 
 fool 1 fool ! fool ! He could have torn his hair 
 at the thought. If he had but gone across the 
 water, as he fully intended to have done, two 
 nights ago ; but it was no use going mad about 
 it. Caught he was in the rat-trap, and to get 
 out he must part with some of his skin. 
 
 But how to proceed ? Why, find the two 
 hundred pounds in the first place, and be quits 
 with that odious old yard of tape — Howish. 
 Easily said, but where was he to find the money ? 
 
 He had tried Mr. Strickland. Nothing was 
 to be got in that quarter. Mr. Strickland might 
 affect to be a liberal — sprung from the people, 
 and a friend of the people ; but when it came 
 to an assertion of their rights — the right every 
 man has to bread — to education — to the means 
 of living — there was not an aristocrat among 
 them all who had more fine reasons to choke 
 a gaping throat withal, than this same Strickland. 
 It was an infamous shame to have given a man
 
 288 THE ROSE OF ASHURST. 
 
 the education he, Paul, had received — awaken 
 the flame of a just ambition in his breast, and 
 then refuse to assist in satisfying it. Better, a 
 thousand times better, have left him to the 
 tender mercies of the Union at first. But it 
 was no use complaining. 
 
 There was no one on earth to look to but 
 Walter. Well, then, it must be Walter. 
 
 He was sorry, but Walter it must be. 
 
 Indeed, Walter might partly take the blame 
 upon himself. He was the elder brother by two 
 or three years. Why had he not interfered at 
 the right time ? He ought to have been aware 
 how ill he, Paul, was fitted for the place they had 
 put him into ; and it was too bad to suflfer him to 
 be bound by this infamous and unjust forfeiture, 
 when he was too young to know what he was 
 about. But as Walter had brought it upon him- 
 self, he must stand to the consequences. 
 
 Yes, that was it ; he must get Walter to ad- 
 vance the money and set him at liberty — for set 
 at liberty he would be. His present life was
 
 THE ROSE OF ASHURST. 289 
 
 insufferable. Supposing he were persuaded to 
 try it again ; why, it would only be to heap fresh 
 difficulties upon himself. Something else he 
 must and would do. Go into the Guards, 
 perhaps ? Mr. Strickland would not hear of 
 buying him a pair of colours, but men had risen 
 to glory from the ranks. The common men in 
 the Guards dressed well — they did not seem to 
 have much to do — he should see the world, 
 learn something of hfe, and have leisure to finish 
 his tragedy. 
 
 VOL. I. U
 
 290 THE ROSE OF ASHURST. 
 
 CHAPTER XIL 
 
 ** Amazement seiz'd the circling crowd. 
 The youths with emulation glow'd; 
 The idiot wonder they express' d, 
 Was praise and transport to his breast." 
 
 Whitehead. 
 
 In a few days Walter arrived in town, and 
 hastened to visit his brother in prison. 
 
 He found him not in the least dejected with 
 what had occurred, and very far, indeed, from 
 being ashamed of w^hat he had done. He at- 
 tributed his conduct to the uncontrollable force 
 of a character too generous to submit to slavery 
 — and to powers of mind possessing elastic force 
 sufficient to burst through the fetters of circum-
 
 THE ROSE OF ASHURST. 291 
 
 stance, however stringent. He unblusliingly pro- 
 posed to his brother to pay the forfeiture for him, 
 Paul giving him a bond for the money, with 
 promise to pay so soon as his tragedy should 
 come out — a drama which Whalley, and Gothing, 
 and Jobleham, and Dick Flyn — editor of the 
 Sun in the East, (this last name pronounced 
 with an air of dignity) — agreed would be certain 
 to command success, and secure a run — not re- 
 cently paralleled in the dramatic world. 
 
 " If you would but once get me out of this, 
 Walter, you should see. I should not prove 
 myself unworthy of the brother who had taken 
 me by the hand. As for present subsistence, 
 the pen, I know by the experience of many 
 valuable men among my friends, is a precarious 
 dependence for a beginner ! but I shall soar 
 high. I am of the eaglet race, and dare to 
 look full at the sun ; besides, something 
 within me recoils at the idea of degrading 
 my muse into a hireling for mere bread. 
 Fame is what I seek — a lofty fame — and those 
 
 u 2
 
 292 THE ROSE OF ASHURST. 
 
 rewards which she abundantly showers upon 
 her favourites, from her cornucopia of gold ! 
 None of your ten-pence a sheet for me." 
 
 Walter sat considering. 
 
 " It would be a great deal better — I can only 
 repeat what I said to you at Ashurst — it would be 
 much better to remain quietly with Mr. Howish 
 till your time is up. You have a liberal salary 
 — you have leisure in the evenings, as he always 
 shuts up early, and can then cultivate your muse. 
 You will thus have time to ripen your thoughts, to 
 strengthen your efforts, and may produce some- 
 thing really good by and by. But till that some- 
 thing is actually produced, it is impossible to 
 judge what course it will be best for you to 
 decide upon.^' 
 
 " I won't march through Shrewsbury, that's 
 flat," was the young man's reply. 
 
 " Won't march through Shrewsbury ! — Who 
 wants you to march through Shrewsbury? 
 Paul, I shall have to shave and clap a blister on 
 your head."
 
 THE ROSE OF ASHURST. 293 
 
 "The shrewdest of men wouldn't march 
 through Shrewsbury with a scarecrow company 
 that would disgrace him — though King or 
 Kaiser commanded — and I won't return to 
 stand behind a counter, crest-fallen and defeated, 
 among a pack of insolent, vulgar, sneering ras- 
 cals, though all the powers in England com- 
 manded it. Falstaff knew the strength of 
 obstinacy, and so do I — ' I w^on't march through 
 Shrewsbury, that's flat.' " 
 
 Paul's last observation is but too true a one. 
 
 Obstinacy is a terrible power in wrong. It is 
 the impregnable stronghold of the wrong -doer, 
 Walter, at least, found himself no match for it. 
 
 His brother's resolution was immovable, and 
 what was to be done. Leave him in prison, and 
 to be disgracefully released by taking the benefit 
 of the insolvent act? He could not bear to 
 think of it. But Paul was indifferent to such 
 considerations; he persisted in saying that re- 
 turn to the shop ho would not — that pay he 
 could not, unless upon the plan he had suggested, 
 
 u 3
 
 294 THE ROSE OF ASHURST. 
 
 except by taking the benefit of the Act, about 
 which he, for one, had no scruples of dehcacy. 
 He, for one, saw no disgrace, he said, in taking 
 advantage of one of the few arrangements by 
 which society endeavoured to compensate to her 
 suffering members for the countless wrongs she 
 inflicted. 
 
 Mr. Howish would not abandon his claim, 
 though he cordially advised Walter not to think 
 of satisfying it in a manner so hazardous to 
 himself. He persisted in affirming that the 
 best thing to be done would be to let the 
 young gentleman finish his tragedy quietly in 
 prison — surrender his fine clothes, his studs, 
 and his rings, and come out at last a little 
 humbler and wiser than he went in. 
 
 But even the shadow of disgrace was insup- 
 portable to Walter; and, moreover, he thought 
 it scarcely just to Mr. Howish to withhold his 
 assistance. Paul, as he firmly believed, would, 
 some time or other, be able to redeem his bond ; 
 for Walter had a high opinion of his brother's
 
 THE ROSE OF ASHURST. 295 
 
 abilities — so this matter ended by his advancing 
 the money, and Paul coming out triumphant. I 
 made use of the word bond — but, in fact, no 
 such document as a legal bond passed between 
 the two brothers. Paul gave his word of 
 honour, and a note of the transaction as he 
 called it, and then walked away whistling some 
 popular song of the season. 
 
 His next step was to enlist in the Guards, for 
 bread he had not to eat, and as yet " rascal pub- 
 lishers," as he styled them, found it worth their 
 while only to oifer a very scanty remuneration 
 for his invaluable lucubrations. He fancied he 
 should not have much to do in the Guards, but 
 to strut about and wear a fine coat ; and " it was 
 a gentleman's profession even in the ranks" — 
 though a man was paid by infamous despots, 
 who conspired with a corrupt parliament to 
 pillage the people. 
 
 But the Guards were, upon trial, found as 
 little to the taste of Mr. Paul Lewis as any other 
 calling where duty was to be done. Doing
 
 296 THE ROSE OF ASHURST. 
 
 his duty was the prime difficulty with our hero 
 — a difficulty that cruelly met and obstructed 
 him whichever way he turned. 
 
 The excellent disciphne of the Guards was a 
 yoke insupportable to so free and mounting a 
 spirit — " a chartered libertine," as he loved to 
 fancy and call himself. In brief, after con- 
 tracting debts upon every side where it was pos- 
 sible to obtain credit, for things which he de- 
 clared it was absolutely impossible to do with- 
 out, though an execrable and niggardly govern- 
 ment starved its soldiers with such abominably 
 contemptible pay — after contracting debts, as I 
 said, for all sorts of things,useful and useless, good 
 for him or bad for him, as the case might be, one 
 fine night our young gentleman deserted ; and by 
 the indulgence of one of the officers, an intimate 
 acquaintance of the wandering pedestrian who 
 relates this story, Walter was allowed to buy 
 him out. 
 
 This indulgence was granted merely through 
 regard to Walter, whose conduct continued
 
 THE ROSE OF ASHURST. 297 
 
 to be beyond praise, and who was perfectly 
 heartbroken at the idea of the punishment 
 to which his brother had rendered himself 
 amenable. 
 
 In one thing only did Paul not prove a 
 disappointment. When he was absolutely 
 obliged to do it for bread — he took, though 
 most reluctantly, to labouring regularly with 
 his pen. 
 
 Labouring with his pen — labouring with as- 
 siduity, perseverance, and pains, so as to produce 
 and perfect what publishers were willing to buy, 
 he found to be a very different sort of business 
 from flinging down on paper a few wild lines, or 
 incoherent tragic scenes, just as the humour 
 prompted — snatches to be read to, and applauded 
 by, the members of a small coterie, who pro- 
 ceeded a good deal upon the maxim " laud me, 
 and I'll do as much for you." But, when he 
 was actually forced, by necessity, to work, he 
 worked well enough — His abilities were unques- 
 tionably above, rather than below the common
 
 298 THE ROSE OF ASHURST. 
 
 standard, and so by hook or by crook he pock- 
 etted a good deal of money — or rather, never 
 pocketted it, but spent it from hand to mouth 
 just as it came in. — Mr. Paul was thus enabled 
 to wear silk-lined coats and embroidered waist- 
 coats again, and indulge to the full in his passion 
 for studs, and all the vulgar finery in which his 
 soul delighted. 
 
 To his credit, however, be it spoken — 
 for greatly to his credit he thought it — far 
 from conducting himself according to the usual 
 fashion of successful men — and retiring from the 
 great struggle in his country's cause, snoring — 
 upon the bench from which he used to declaim, 
 no longer a generous patriot, but a vile con- 
 servative... Paul continued to be first and fore- 
 most in clubs or public meetings of young men 
 much of his own calibre, whose proceedings 
 were stigmatised as seditious by the world in 
 general, though they claimed for themselves the 
 high distinction of being the only true friends 
 of freedom, progress, and social happiness.
 
 THE ROSE OF ASHURST. 299 
 
 In assemblies, such as these, Paul was in all 
 his glory. There he harangued, and there he 
 imbibed the delicious intoxication of popular ap- 
 plause, as he ministered to his own pride, self- 
 conceit, and self-delusion, as well as to those of 
 his auditors. — There he might be heard with loud 
 voice and vehement gesticulation — magnifying 
 himself, his opinions, his audience, in comparison 
 with the stupid dotards, the titled simpletons, 
 the men alike characterised by insane audacity 
 and contemptible blindness then in power. " Old 
 women," as it is the fashion among such rare 
 spirits to style them, who had handled the ribbons 
 of the old coach so long that they thought none 
 but themselves capable of guiding it ; but who 
 would find, when too late, how impotent their 
 decrepid hands to curb the wild and generous 
 energy of the panting steeds they pretended to 
 restrain, &c., &c., &c. 
 
 And so I hope you are all pleased with the 
 poetical justice which has elevated so mucli
 
 300 THE ROSE OF ASHURST. 
 
 energy of character and a genius so intuitive, to 
 the high social pinnacle upon which now sits the 
 much-deserving Paul. 
 
 END OF VOL. I. 
 
 J. Billing, Printer, 103, Hatton Garden, London, and Guildford, Surrey.
 
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