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 SIE BEOOI FOSSBEOOKE
 
 ORIGiNALLY PUBLISHED IN BLACKWOOD t^ MAGAZINE
 
 SIR BEOOK FOSSBEOOKE 
 
 BY 
 
 CHARLES LEVER 
 
 IN THREE VOLUMES 
 
 VOL. I. 
 
 WILLIAM BLACKWOOD AND SOI^S 
 
 EDINBURGH AND LONDON 
 
 MDCCCLXVI
 
 
 £ 
 
 TO 
 
 PHILIP EOSE, ESQ. 
 
 i^ My dear Rose, 
 
 Jk You HAVE OFTEN STOPPED ME WHEN ENDEAVOURING 
 
 *^ TO EXPRESS ALL THE GRATITUDE I FELT TOWARDS YOU. 
 
 /y-v You CANNOT DO SO NOW, NOR PREVENT MY TELLING ALOUD 
 
 HOW MUCH I OWE — HOW MUCH I ESTEEM YOU. ThESE 
 
 VOLUMES WERE NOT WITHOUT INTEREST FOR ME AS I WROTE 
 
 « 
 
 THEM, BUT THEY YIELDED ME NO SUCH PLEASURE AS I NOW 
 FEEL IN DEDICATING THEM TO YOU ; AND, WITH THIS ASSUR- 
 ANCE, BELIEVE ME, 
 
 
 -r 
 
 i 
 
 S 
 
 Your affectionate friend, 
 
 CHARLES LEVER. 
 
 Si'E/iA, Ocloh^Y 20, 18G6.
 
 Digitized by the Internet Archive 
 
 in 2009 with funding from 
 
 University of Illinois Urbana-Champaign 
 
 http://www.archive.org/details/sirbrookfossbroo01leve
 
 SIR BEOOK FOSSBEOOKE. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 AFTER MESS. 
 
 The mess was over, and the officers of H.M/s — th 
 were grouped in little knots and parties, sipping their 
 coffee, and discussing the arrangements for the even- 
 ing. Their quarter was that pleasant city of Dublin, 
 which, bating certain exorbitant demands in the 
 matter of field-day and guard-mounting, stands pre- 
 eminently first in military favour. 
 
 "Are you going to that great ball in Merrion 
 Square?" asked one. 
 
 '' Not so lucky ; not invited." 
 
 " I got a card," cried a third ; " but I've just heard 
 it's not to come off. It seems that tlio lady's lius- 
 band is a judge. He's Chief something or other; 
 and he has been called away." 
 
 VOL. I. A
 
 2 SIR BROOK FOSSBROOKE. 
 
 " Nothing of the kind, Tomkins ; unless you call 
 a summons to the next world being caUed away. 
 The man is dangerously ill. He was seized with 
 paralysis on the Bench yesterday, and, they say, 
 can't recover." 
 
 There now ensued an animated conversation as to 
 whether, on death vacancies, the men went up "by 
 ■ seniority at the bar, or whether a subaltern could at 
 once spring up to the top of the regiment. 
 
 " Suppose," said one, " we were to ask the Colonel's 
 guest his opinion. The old cove has talked pretty 
 nigh of everything in this world during dinner; 
 what if we were to ask him about barons of the 
 Exchequer ? " 
 
 " Who is he ? what is he ? " asked another. 
 
 "The Colonel called him Sir Brook Fossbrooke; 
 that's all I know." 
 
 " Colonel Cave told me," whispered the Major, 
 "that he was the fastest man on town some forty 
 years ago." 
 
 " I think he must have kept over the wardrobe of 
 that brilliant period," said another. " I never saw a 
 really swallow-tailed coat before." 
 
 " His ring amused me. It is a small smoothing- 
 iron, with a coat of arms on it. Hush! here he 
 comes." 
 
 The man who now joined the group was a tall, 
 gaunt figure, with a high narrow head, from which
 
 AFTEK IVIESS. 3 
 
 the hair was brushed rigidly back to fall behind in 
 something like an old-fashioned queue. His eyes 
 were black, and surmounted with massive and much- 
 arched eyebrows; a strongly-marked mouth, stern, 
 determined, and, except in speaking, almost cruel in 
 expression, and a thin-pointed projecting chin, gave 
 an air of severity and strong will to features which, 
 when he conversed, displayed a look of courteous 
 deference, and that peculiar desire to please that we 
 associate with a bygone school of breeding. He was 
 one of those men, and very distinctive are they, with 
 whom even the least cautious take no liberties, nor 
 venture upon any familiarity. The eccentricities of 
 determined men are very often indications of some 
 deep spirit beneath, and not, as in weaker natures, 
 mere emanations of vanity or offsprings of self-in- 
 dulgence. 
 
 If he was, beyond question, a gentleman, there 
 were also signs about him of narrow fortune: his 
 scrupulously white shirt was not fine, and the seams 
 of his well-brushed coat showed both care and wear. 
 
 He had joined the group, who were talking of the 
 coming Derby when the Colonel came up. " I have 
 sent for the man we want, Fossbrooke. I'm not a 
 fisherman myself ; but they tell me he knows every 
 lake, river, and rivulet in the island. He has sat 
 down to whist, but we'll have him here presently." 
 
 " On no account ; don't disturb his game for me."
 
 4 SIR BROOK FOSSBROOKE. 
 
 " Here lie comes. Trafford, I want to present you 
 to a very old friend of mine, Sir Brook Fossbrooke — 
 as enthusiastic an angler as yourself. He has the 
 ambition to hook an Irish salmon. I don't suppose 
 any one can more readily help him on the road to it." 
 
 The young man thus addressed was a large, 
 strongly, almost heavily built young fellow, but with 
 that looseness of limb and freedom that showed ac- 
 tivity had not been sacrificed to mere power. He 
 had a fine frank handsome face, blue-eyed, and bold- 
 looking; and as he stood to receive the Colonel's 
 orders there was in his air that blending of deference 
 and good-humoured carelessness that made up his 
 whole nature. 
 
 It was plain to see in him one easy to persuade — 
 impossible to coerce ; a fellow with whom the man 
 he liked could do anything, but one perfectly un- 
 manageable if thrown into the wrong hands. He 
 was the second son of a very rich baronet, but made 
 the mistake of believing he had as much right to 
 extravagance as his elder brother, and having per- 
 sisted in this error during two years in the Life 
 Guards, had been sent to do the double penance of 
 an infantry regiment and an Irish station ; two in- 
 flictions which, it was believed, would have sufficed 
 to calm down the ardour of the most impassioned 
 spendthrift. He looked at Fossbrooke from head to 
 foot. It was not exactly the stamp of man he would
 
 AFTER MESS. 5 
 
 have selected for companionsliip, but lie saw at once 
 that he was distinctively a gentleman, and then the 
 prospect of a few days away from regimental duty 
 was not to be despised, and he quickly replied that 
 both he and his tackle were at Sir Brook's disposal. 
 " If we could run down to Killaloe, sir," added he, 
 turning to the Colonel, " we might be almost sure of 
 some sport." 
 
 "Which means that you want two days' leave, 
 Trafiford." 
 
 " No, sir ; four. It will take a day at least to get 
 over there ; another will be lost in exploring ; all 
 these late rains have sent such a fresh into the 
 Shannon there's no knowing where to try." 
 
 " You see, Fossbrooke, what a casuistical com- 
 panion I've given you. I'll wager you a five-pound 
 note that if you come back without a rise he'll have 
 an explanation that will perfectly explain it was the 
 best thing could have happened." 
 
 '' I am charmed to travel in such company," said 
 Sir Brook, bowing. "The gentleman has already 
 established a claim to my respect for him." 
 
 Trafford bowed too, and looked not at all displeased 
 at the compliment. " Are you an early riser, sir ? "• 
 asked he. 
 
 " I am anything, sir, the occasion exacts ; but 
 when I have an early start before me, I usually sit 
 up all night."
 
 6 SIR BROOK FOSSBROOKE. 
 
 " My own plan, too/' cried Trafford. " And there's 
 Aubrey quite ready to join us. Aj-e you a whister, 
 Sir Brook r' 
 
 " At your service. I play all games." 
 
 " Is lie a whister ? " repeated the Colonel. " Ask 
 Harry Greville, ask Tom Newenham, what they say 
 of him at Graham's? Trafford, my boy, you may 
 possibly give him a hint about grey hackles, but I'll 
 be shot if you do about the odd trick." 
 
 " If you'll come over to my room, Sir Brook, we'll 
 have a rubber, and I'll give orders to have my tax- 
 cart ready for us by daybreak," said Trafford ; and 
 Fossbrooke promising to be with him so soon as he 
 had given his servant his orders, they parted. 
 
 " And are you as equal to this sitting up all night 
 as you used to be, Tossbrooke ? " asked the Colonel. 
 
 " I don't smoke as many cigars as formerly, and I 
 am a little more choice about my tobacco. I avoid 
 mulled port, and take weak brandy-and-water ; and 
 I believe in all other respects I'm pretty much 
 where I was when we met last, — I think it was at 
 Ceylon?" 
 
 " I wish I could say as much for myself You are 
 talking of thirty-four years ago." 
 
 " My secret against growing old is to do a little of 
 everything. It keeps the sympathies wider, makes 
 a man more accessible to other men, and keeps him 
 from dweUino" too much on himself. But tell me
 
 AFTER MESS. 7 
 
 about my young companion ; is lie one of Sir Hugh's 
 family?" 
 
 " His second son ; not unlike to be his eldest, for 
 George has gone to Madeira with very little prospect 
 of recovery. This is a fine lad ; a little wild, a little 
 careless of money, but the very soul of honour and 
 right-mindedness. They sent him to me as a sort 
 of incurable, but I have nothing but good to say 
 of him." 
 
 " There's great promise in a fellow when he can 
 be a scamp and a man of honour. When dissipations 
 do not degrade and excesses do not corrupt a man, 
 there is a grand nature ever beneath." 
 
 " Don't tell him that, Fossbrooke," said the Colo- 
 nel, laughing. 
 
 " I am not likely to do so," said he, with a grim 
 smile. "I am glad, too, to meet his father's son; 
 we were at Christ Church together ; and now I see 
 he has the family good-looks. * Le beau TrafFord,' 
 was a proverb in Paris once." 
 
 "Do you ever forget a man?" asked the Colonel, 
 in some curiosity. 
 
 " I believe not. I forget books, places, dates oc- 
 casionally, but never peoj^le. I met an old school- 
 fellow t'other day at Dover whom I never saw since 
 we. were boys. He had gone down in the world, 
 and was acting as one of the *commissionnaires' they 
 call them, who take your keys to the Custom-house
 
 8 SIR BROOK FOSSBROOKE. 
 
 to have your luggage examined ; and when he came 
 to ask me to employ him, I said, ' What ! an't you 
 Jemmy Harper?' 'And who the devil are youl' 
 said he. 'Fossbrooke/ said I. 'Not "Wart"?' 
 said he. That was my school nickname, from a 
 wart I once had on my chin. ' Ay, to be sure,' said 
 I, ' Wart.' I wish you saw the delight of the old 
 dog. I made him dine with us. Lord Brackington 
 was with me, and enjoyed it all immensely." 
 
 " And what had brought him so low ? " 
 
 " He was cursed, he said, with a strong constitu- 
 tion ; all the other fellows of his set had so timed it, 
 that when they had nothing to live on they ceased 
 to live ; but Jemmy told us he never had such an 
 appetite as now; that he passed from fourteen to 
 sixteen hours a-day on the pier in all weathers ; and 
 as to gout, he firmly believed it all came of the 
 adulterated wines of the great wine -merchants. 
 British gin he maintained to be the wholesomest 
 liquor in existence." 
 
 "I wonder how fellows bear up under such re- 
 verses as that," said the Colonel. 
 
 "My astonishment is rather," cried Fossbrooke, 
 " how men can live on in a monotony of wellbeing, 
 getting fatter, older, and more unwieldy, and with 
 only such experiences of life as a well-fed fowl 
 might have in a hen-coop." 
 
 " I know that's ^/Oi^r theory," said the other, laughing
 
 AFTEE MESS. 9 
 
 " Well, no man can say that I have not lived up 
 to my conductions ; and for myself, I can aver I have 
 thoroughly enjoyed my intercourse with the world, 
 and like it as well to-day as on the first morning I 
 made my bow to it/' 
 
 " Listen to this, young gentlemen," said the Colo- 
 . nel, turning to his officers, who now gathered around 
 them. "Now and then I hear some of you com- 
 plaining of being bored or wearied — sick of this, 
 tired of that ; here's my friend, who knows the whole 
 thing better than any of us, and he declares that the 
 world is the best of all possible worlds, and that, so 
 far from familiarity with it inspiring jdisgust with 
 life, his enjoyment of it is as racy as when first he 
 knew it." 
 
 " It is rather hard to ask these gentlemen to take 
 me as a guide on trust," said Fossbrooke ; " but I 
 have known the fathers of most of those I see around 
 me, and could call many of them as witnesses to 
 character. Major Aylmer, your father and I went 
 up the Nile together, when people talked of it as a 
 journey. Captain Harris, I'm sure I am not wrong 
 in saying you are the son of Godfrey Harris of Har- 
 risburg. Your father was my friend on the day I 
 wounded Lord Ecclesmore, I see four or five others 
 too — so like old companions that I find it hard to 
 believe I am not back again in the old days when I 
 was as young as themselves ; and yet, I'm not \eTy
 
 10 SIR BROOK FOSSBROOKE. 
 
 certain if I would like to exchange my present quiet 
 enjoyment as a looker-on for all that active share I 
 once took in life and its pleasures." 
 
 Something in the fact that their fathers had lived 
 in his intimacy, something in his manner — a very 
 courteous manner it was — and something in the 
 bold, almost defiant bearing of the old man, vouch- 
 ing for great energy and dignity together, won 
 greatly upon the young men, and they gathered 
 around him. He was, however, summoned away by 
 a message from Trafford to say that the whist-party 
 waited for him, and he took his leave with a stately 
 courtesy and withdrew. 
 
 " There goes one of the strangest fellows in Chris- 
 tendom," said the Colonel, as the other left the room. 
 " He has already gone through three fortunes ; he 
 dissipated the first — speculated and lost the second 
 — and the third he, I might say, gave away in acts 
 of benevolence and kindness — leaving himself so ill- 
 off, that I actually heard the other day that some 
 friend had asked for the place of barrack-master at 
 Athlone for him; but on coming over to see the 
 place, he found a poor fellow with a wife and five 
 children a candidate for it; so he retired in his 
 favour, and is content, as you see, to go out on the 
 world, and take his chance with it." 
 
 Innumerable questions pressed on the Colonel to 
 tell more of his strange friend ; he had, however,
 
 AFTER MESS. 11 
 
 little beyond hearsay to give tliem. Of his own 
 experiences, he could only say that when first he met 
 him it was at Ceylon, where he had come in a yacht 
 like a sloop of war to hunt elephants — the splendour 
 of his retinue and magnificence of his suite giving him 
 the air of a royal personage — and indeed the gorgeous 
 profusion of his presents to the King and the chief 
 personages of the court, went far to impress this no- 
 tion. "I never met him since," said the Colonel, *' till 
 this morning, when he walked into my room, dusty 
 and travel-stained, to say, ' I just heard your name, 
 and thought I'd ask you to give me my dinner to-day.' 
 I owe him a great many — not to say innumerable 
 other attentions ; and his last act on leaving Trin- 
 comalee was to present me with an Arab charger, the 
 most perfect animal I ever mounted. It is therefore 
 a real pleasure to me to receive him. He is a 
 thoroughly fine-hearted fellow, and, with all his ec- 
 centricities, one of the noblest natures I ever met. 
 The only flaw in his frankness is as to his age ; 
 nobody has ever been able to get it from him. You 
 heard him talk of your fathers — he might talk of 
 your grandfathers ; and he would too, if we had only 
 the opportunity to lead him on to it. I know of my 
 own knowledge that he lived in the Carlton House 
 coterie, not a man of which except himself survives ; 
 and I have heard him give imitations of Burke, 
 Sheridan, Gavin Hamilton, and Pitt, that none but
 
 12 SIR BROOK FOSSBROOKE. 
 
 one who had seen them could have accomplished. 
 And now that I have told you all this, will one of 
 you step over to Trafford's rooms, and whisper him 
 a hint to make his whist-points as low as he can ; 
 and, what is even of more importance, to take care 
 lest any strange story Sir Brook may tell — and he 
 is full of them — meet a sign of incredulity — still 
 less provoke any quizzing; the slightest shade of 
 such a provocation would render him like a mad- 
 man." 
 
 The Major volunteered to go on this mission, 
 which indeed any of the others would as willingly 
 have accepted, for the old man had interested them 
 deeply, and they longed to hear more about him.
 
 CHAPTER 11. 
 
 THE swan's nest. 
 
 As the Shannon draws near Killaloe, the wild char- 
 acter of the mountain scenery, the dreary wastes and 
 desolate islands which marked Lough Derg, disappear, 
 and give way to gently-sloping lawns, dotted over 
 with well-grown timber, well-kept demesnes, spacious 
 country-houses, and a country which, in general, 
 almost recalls the wealth and comfort of Ensrland. 
 
 About a mile above the town, in a little bend of 
 the river forming a small bay, stands a small but 
 pretty house, with a skirt of rich wood protecting it 
 at the back, while the lawn in front descends by an 
 easy slope to the river. 
 
 Originally a mere farmhouse, the taste of an in- 
 genious owner had taken every advantage of its 
 irregular outline, and converted it into something 
 Elizabethan in character, a style admirably adapted 
 to the site, where all the features (^ rich-coloured 
 landscape abounded, and where varied foliage, heathy
 
 14 SIR BROOK FOSSBROOKE. 
 
 mountain, and eddying river, all lent themselves to 
 make up a scene of fresh and joyous beauty. 
 
 In the marvellous fertility of the soil, too, was 
 found an ally to every prospect of embellishment. 
 Sheltered from north and east winds, plants grew 
 here in the open air, which in less favoured spots 
 needed the protection of the conservatory ; and thus 
 in the neatly shaven lawn were seen groups of blos- 
 soming shrubs or flowers of rare excellence, and the 
 camellia and the salvia and the oleander blended 
 with the tulip, the moss-rose, and the carnation, to 
 stud the grass with their gorgeous colours. 
 
 Over the front of the cottage, for cottage it really 
 was, a South American creeper, a sort of acanthus, 
 grew, its crimson flowers hanging in rich profusion 
 over cornice and architrave ; while a passion-tree of 
 great age covered the entire porch, relieving with its 
 softened tints the almost over-brilliancy of the south- 
 ern plant. 
 
 Seen from the water — and it came suddenly into 
 view on rounding a little headland — few could for- 
 bear from an exclamation of wonder and admiration 
 at this lovely spot ; nor could all the pretentious 
 grandeur of the rich-wooded parks, nor all the more 
 imposing architecture of the great houses, detract 
 from the marvellous charm of this simple home. 
 
 A tradition pf a swan carried away by some rising 
 of the river from the Castle of Portumna, and swept
 
 THE SWANS NEST. 15 
 
 down the lake till it found refuge in the little bay, 
 had given the name to the place, and for more than 
 a hundred years was it known as the Swan's Nest. 
 The Swan, however, no longer existed, though a little 
 thatched edifice at the water-side marked the spot it 
 had once inhabited, and sustained the truth of the 
 legend. 
 
 The owner of the place was a Dr Lendrick : he 
 had come to it about twenty years before the time at 
 which our story opens — a widower with two children, 
 a son and a daughter. He was a perfect stranger to 
 all the neighbourhood, though by name well known 
 as the son of a distinguished judge. Baron Lendrick 
 of the Court of Exchequer. 
 
 It was rumoured about, that, having displeased his 
 father, first by adopting medicine instead of law as 
 his profession, and subsequently by marrying a por- 
 tionless girl of humble family, the Baron had ceased 
 to recognise him in any way. Making a settlement 
 of a few hundreds a-year on him, he resolved to 
 leave the bulk of his fortune to a step -son, the child 
 of his second wife, a Colonel Sewell, then in India. 
 
 It was with no thought of practising his profession 
 that Dr Lendrick had settled in the neighbourhood ; 
 but as he was always ready to assist the poor by his 
 advice and skill, and as the reputation of his great 
 ability gradually got currency, he found himself con- 
 strained to yield to the insistance of his neighbours.
 
 16 SIR BROOK FOSSBROOKE. 
 
 and consent to practise generally. There were many 
 things which made this course unpalatable to him. 
 He was by nature shy, timid, and retiring ; he was 
 fastidiously averse to a new acquaintanceship ; he 
 had desired, besides, to live estranged from the world, 
 devoting himself entirely to the education of his 
 children ; and he neither liked the forced publicity 
 he became exposed to, nor that life of servitude 
 which leaves the doctor at the hourly mercy of the 
 world around him. 
 
 If he yielded, therefore, to the professional calls 
 upon him, he resisted totally all social claims : he 
 went nowhere but as the doctor. 
 
 No persuasion, no inducement, could prevail on 
 him to dine out ; no exigency of time or season pre- 
 vent him returning to his home at night. There 
 were in his neighbourhood one or two persons whose 
 rank might have, it was supposed, influenced him 
 in some degree to comply with their requests — and, 
 certainly, whose desire for his society would have 
 left nothing undone to secure it ; but he was as ob- 
 durate to them as to others, and the Earl of Drum- 
 carran and Sir Eeginald Lacy, of < Lacy Manor, were 
 not a whit more successful in their blandishments 
 than the Vicar of Killaloe — Old Bob Mills, as he was 
 irreverently called — or Lendrick's own colleague, Dr 
 Tobin, who, while he respected his superior ability, 
 and admitted his knowledge, secretly hated him as
 
 THE SWANS NEST. 17 
 
 only a rival doctor knows how to hate a brother 
 practitioner. 
 
 For the first time for many years had Dr Lendrick 
 gone up to Dublin. A few lines from an old family 
 physician, Dr Beattie, had, however, called him up to 
 town. The Chief Baron had been taken ill in Court, 
 and was conveyed home in a state of insensibility. 
 It was declared that he had rallied and passed a 
 favourable night; but as he was a man of very 
 advanced age, at no time strong, and ever unsparing 
 of himself in the arduous labours of his office, grave 
 doubts were felt that he would ever again resume 
 his seat on the Bench. Dr Beattie well knew the 
 long estrangement that had separated the father from 
 the son ; and although, perhaps, the most intimate 
 friend the Judge had in the world, he never had dared 
 to interpose a word or drop a hint as to the advis- 
 ability of reconciliation. 
 
 Sir William Lendrick was indeed a man whom no 
 amount of intimacy could render his friends familiar 
 with. He was positively charming to mere acquain- 
 tanceship — his manner was a happy blending of de- 
 ference with a most polished wit. Full of bygone ex- 
 periences and reminiscences of interesting people and 
 events, he never overlaid conversation by their men- 
 tion, but made them merely serve to illustrate the 
 present, either by contrast or resemblance. All this 
 to the world and society was he ; to the inmates of 
 
 VOL. I. B
 
 18 SIR BEOOK FOSSBEOOKE. 
 
 his house he was a perfect terror ! It was said his 
 first wife had died of a broken heart; his second, 
 with a spirit fierce and combative as his own, had 
 quarrelled with him so often, so seriously, and so 
 hopelessly, that for the last fifteen years of life they 
 had occupied separate houses, and only met as ac- 
 quaintances, accepting and sending invitations to 
 each other, and outwardly observing all the usages 
 of a refined courtesy. 
 
 This was the man of whom Dr Beattie wrote : " I 
 cannot presume to say that he is more favourably 
 disposed towards you than he has shown himself for 
 years, but I would strenuously advise your being 
 here, and sufficiently near, so that if a happier dispo- 
 sition should occur, or an opportunity arise to bring 
 you once more together, the fortunate moment should 
 not be lost. Come up, then, at once — come to my 
 house, where your room is ready for you, and where 
 you will neither be molested by visitors nor interfered 
 with. Manage too, if you can, to remain here for 
 some days." 
 
 It is no small tribute to the character of filial affec- 
 tion when one can say, and say truthfully, that scarcely 
 any severity on a parent's part effaces the love that 
 was imbibed in infancy, and that struck root in the 
 heart before it could know what unkindness was ! 
 Over and over again in life have I witnessed this 
 deep devotion. Over and over again have I seen a
 
 THE swan's nest. 19 
 
 clinging affection to a memory whicli nothing short of 
 a hallowed tie could have made so dear — a memory 
 that retained whatever could comfort and sustain, 
 and held nothing that recalled shame or sorrow. 
 
 Dr Lendrick went up to town full of such 
 emotions. All the wrong — it was heavy wrong 
 too — he had suffered was forgotten, all the in- 
 justice wiped out. He only asked to be permitted 
 to see his father — to nurse and watch by him. 
 There was no thought for himself. By recon- 
 ciliation he never meant restoration to his place as 
 heir. Forgiveness and love he asked for — to be 
 taken back to the heart so long closed against him, 
 to hear himself called Tom by that voice he knew so 
 well, and whose accents sounded through his dreams. 
 
 That he was not without a hope of such happiness, 
 might be gathered from one circumstance. He had 
 taken up with him two miniatures of his boy and girl 
 to show " Grandfather" if good fortune should ever 
 offer a fitting moment. 
 
 The first words which greeted him on reaching his 
 friend's house were : '' Better. A tolerably tranquil 
 night. He can move his hand. The attack was 
 paralysis, and his speech is also improved." 
 
 " And his mind ? how is his mind ?" 
 
 " Clear as ever it was — intensely eager to hear 
 what is said about his illness, and insatiable as to the 
 newspaper versions of the attack."
 
 20 SIR BROOK FOSSBROOKE. 
 
 " Does he speak ? Has he spoken of— his family 
 at all ?" said he, falteringly. 
 
 " Only of Lady Lendrick. He desired to see her. 
 He dictated a note to me, in terms of very finished 
 courtesy, asking her if, without incurring inconven- 
 ience, she would favour him with an early call. The 
 whole thing was so like himself that I saw at once 
 he was getting better." 
 
 "And so you think him better?" asked Lendrick, 
 eagerly. 
 
 " Better ! Yes — but not out of danger. I fear as 
 much from his irritability as his malady. He will 
 insist on seeing the newspapers, and occasionally his 
 eye falls on some paragraph that wounds him. It 
 was but yesterday that he read a sort of querulous 
 regret from some writer that ' the learned judge had 
 not retired some years ago, and before failing health, 
 acting on a very irascible temperament, had rendered 
 him a terror alike to the bar and the suitors.' That 
 unfortunate paragraph cost twenty leeches and ice to 
 his temples for eight hours after." 
 
 " Cannot these things be kept from him ? Surely 
 your authority ought to be equal to this I" 
 
 " Were I to attempt it he would refuse to see me. 
 In fact, any utility I can contribute depends on 
 my apparent submission to him in everything. 
 Almost his first question to me every morning is, 
 ' Well, sir, who is to be my successor?' Of course I
 
 THE SWAN S NEST. 21 
 
 say that we all look with a sanguine hope to see him 
 soon back in his court again. When I said this yes- 
 terday, he replied, ' I will sit on Wednesday, sir, to 
 hear appeals ; there will be little occasion for me to 
 speak, and I trust another day or two will see the 
 last of this difficulty of utterance. Pemberton, I 
 know, is looking to the Attorney-Generalship, and 
 George Hayes thinks he may order his ermine. Tell 
 them, however, from me, that the Chief Baron in- 
 tends to preside in his court for many a year to 
 come ; that the intellect, such as it is, with which 
 Providence endowed him, is still unchanged and 
 unclouded.' This is his language — this his tone; 
 and you may know how such a spirit jars with all 
 our endeavours to promote rest and tranquillity." 
 
 Lendrick walked moodily up and down the room, 
 his head sunk, and his eyes downcast. " Never to 
 speak of me — never ask to see me," muttered he, in 
 a voice of intense sadness. 
 
 " I half suspected at one time he was about to do 
 so, and indeed . he said, ' If this attack should baffle 
 you, Beattie, you must not omit to give timely warn- 
 ing. There are two or three things to be thought of 
 When I came away on that morning, I sat down and 
 wrote to you to come up here." 
 
 A servant entered at this moment and presented a 
 note to the Doctor, who read it hastily and handed it 
 to Lendrick. It ran thus : —
 
 22 SIR BEOOK FOSSBROOKE. 
 
 "Dear Dr Beattie, — The Chief Baron has had an 
 unfavourable turn, partly brought on by excitement. 
 Lose no time in coming here ; and believe me, yours 
 sincerely, Constantia Lendrick." 
 
 " They Ve had a quarrel ; I knew they would. I 
 did my best to prevent their meeting ; but I saw he 
 would not go out of the world without a scene. As 
 he said last night, ' I mean her to hear my " charge." 
 She must listen to my charge, Beattie ;' and I'd not 
 be astonished if this charge were to prove his own 
 sentence." 
 
 " Go to him at once, Beattie ; and if it be at all 
 possible, if you can compass it in any way, let me 
 see him once again. Take these with you ; who 
 knows but their bright faces may plead better than 
 words for us?" and thus saying he gave him the 
 miniatures ; and overcome with emotion he could not 
 control, turned away and left the room.
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 A DIFFICULT PATIENT. 
 
 As Dr Beattie drove off with all speed to the Chief 
 Baron's house, which lay about three miles from the 
 city, he had time to ponder as he went over his late 
 interview. " Tom Lendrick," as he still called him 
 to himself, he had known as a boy, and ever liked 
 him. He had been a patient, studious, gentle-tem- 
 pered lad, desirous to acquire knowledge, without any 
 of that ambition that wants to make the knowledge 
 marketable. To have gained a professorship would 
 have appeared to have been the very summit of his 
 ambition, and. this rather as a quiet retreat to pursue 
 his studies further than as a sphere wherein to dis- 
 play his own gifts. Anything more unlike that 
 bustling, energetic, daring spirit, his father, would be 
 hard to conceive. Throughout his whole career at 
 the bar, and in Parliament, men were never quite 
 sure what that brilliant speaker and most indiscreet 
 talker would do next. Men secured his advocacy
 
 24 SIR BROOK FOSSBROOKE. 
 
 with a half misgiving whether they were doing the 
 very best or the very worst for success. Give him 
 difficulties to deal with, and he was a giant ; let all 
 go smoothly and well, and he would hunt up some 
 crotchet — some obsolete usage — a doubtful point, 
 that in its discussion very frequently led to the 
 damage of his client's cause, and the defeat of his 
 suit. 
 
 Display was ever more to him than victory. Let 
 him have a great arena to exhibit in, and he was 
 proof against all the difficulties and all the casualties 
 of the conflict. Never had such a father a son less 
 the inheritor of his temperament and nature; and 
 this same disappointment rankling on through life — 
 a disappointment that embittered all intercourse, and 
 went so far as to make him disparage the high abil- 
 ities of his son — created a gulf between them that 
 Beattie knew could never be bridged over. He 
 doubted, too, whether as a doctor he could conscien- 
 tiously introduce a theme so likely to irritate and 
 excite. As he pondered he opened the two minia- 
 tures, and looked at them. The young man was a 
 fine manly, daring-looking fellow, with a determined 
 brow and a resolute mouth, that recalled his grand- 
 father's face : he was evidently well grown, and 
 strong, and looked one that, thrown where he might 
 be in life, would be likely to assert his own. 
 
 The girl, wonderfully like him in feature, had a
 
 A DIFFICULT PATIENT. 25 
 
 character of subdued humour in her eye, and a half- 
 hid laughter in the mouth, which the artist had 
 caught up with infinite skill, that took away all the 
 severity of the face, and softened its traits to a most 
 attractive beauty. Through her rich brown hair 
 there was a sort of golden reflet that imparted great 
 brilliancy to the expression of the head, and her large 
 eyes of grey-blue were the image of candour and 
 softness, till her laugh gave them a sparkle of drol- 
 lery whose sympathy there was no resisting. She, 
 too, was tall and beautifully formed, with that slim- 
 ness of early youth that only escapes being angular, 
 but has in it the charm of suppleness, that lends 
 grace to every action and every gesture. 
 
 "I wish he could see the originals," muttered 
 Beattie. " If the old man, with his love of beauty, 
 but saw that girl, it would be worth all the argu- 
 ments in Christendom. Is it too late fox this ? 
 Have we time for the experiment?" 
 
 Thus thinking he drove along the well-wooded 
 approach, and gained the large ground-space before 
 the door, whence a carriage was about to drive away. 
 "Oh, Doctor," cried a voice, "I'm so glad you're 
 come ; they are most impatient for you." It was the 
 Solicitor-General, Mr Pemberton, who now came up 
 to the window of Beattie's carriage. 
 
 " He has become quite unmanageable, will not 
 admit a word of counsel or advice, resists all
 
 26 SIR BROOK FOSSBROOKE. 
 
 interference, and insists on going out for a 
 drive." 
 
 " I see him at tlie window," said Beattie ; " he is 
 beckoning to me ; good-bye," and he passed on and 
 entered the house. 
 
 In the chief drawing-room, in a deep recess of a 
 window, sat the Chief Baron, dressed as if to go out, 
 with an overcoat, and even his gloves on. " Come 
 and drive with me, Beattie," cried he, in a feeble but 
 harsh voice. " If I take my man Leonard they'U say 
 it was a keeper. You know, that the ' Post ' has it 
 this morning that it is my mind which has given 
 way. They say they've seen me breaking for years 
 back. Good heavens ! can it be possible, think you, 
 that the mites in a cheese speculate over the nature 
 of the man that eats them? You stopped to talk 
 with Pemberton, I saw; what did he say to you?" 
 
 "Nothing particular— a mere greeting, I think." 
 
 " No, sir, it was not ; he was asking you how many 
 hours there lay between him and the Attorney- 
 Generalship. They've divided the carcass already. 
 The lion has to assist at his autopsy — rather hard, 
 isn't it ? How it embitters death to think of the 
 fellows who are to replace us ! " 
 
 " Let me feel your pulse." 
 
 "Don't trust it, Beattie; that little dialogue of 
 yours on the grass plot has sent it up thirty beats ; 
 how many is it ? "
 
 A DIFFICULT PATIENT. 27 
 
 " Eapid— very rapid ; you need rest — tranquillity." 
 
 " And you can't give me either, sir ; neither you 
 nor your craft. You are the Augurs of modern civi- 
 lisation, and we cling to your predictions just as our 
 forefathers did, though we never believe you." 
 
 " This is not flattery," said Beattie, with a slight 
 smile. 
 
 The old man closed his eyes and passed his hand 
 slowly over his forehead. " I suppose I was dream- 
 ing, Beattie, just before you came up ; but I thought 
 I saw them all in the Hall, talking and laughing over 
 my death. Burrowes was telling how old I must be, 
 because I moved the amendment to Flood in the 
 Irish Parliament in '97 ; and Eames mentioned that 
 I was Curran's junior in the great Bagenal record ; 
 and old Tysdal set them all in a roar by saying he 
 had a vision of me standing at the gate of heaven, 
 and instead of going in, as St Peter invited me, 
 stoutly refusing, and declaring I would move for a 
 new trial ! How like the rascals !" 
 
 "Don't you think you'd be better in your own 
 room ? there's too much light and glare here." 
 
 "Do you think so?" 
 
 " I am sure of it. You need quiet, and the absence 
 of all that stimulates the action of the brain." 
 
 " And what do you, sir — what does any one — know 
 about the brain's operations ? You doctors have in- 
 vented a sort of conventional cerebral organ "which,
 
 28 SIR BROOK FOSSBROOKE. 
 
 like lunar caustic, is decomposed by light; and in 
 your vulgar materialism you would make out that 
 what affects your brain must act alike upon mine. I 
 tell you, sir, it is darkness — obscurity, physical or 
 moral, it matters not which — that irritates me, just 
 as I feel provoked this moment by this muddling 
 talk of yours about brain." 
 
 " And yet I'm talking about what my daily life 
 and habits suggest some knowledge of," said Beattie, 
 mildly. 
 
 " So you are, sir, and the presumption is aU on my 
 side. If you'U kindly lend me your arm I'll go back 
 to my room." 
 
 Step by step, slowly and painfully, he returned to 
 his chamber, not uttering a word as he went. 
 
 " Yes ; this is better, Doctor; this half light soothes ; 
 it is much pleasanter. One more kindness. I wrote 
 to Lady Lendrick this morning to come up here. I 
 suppose my combative spirit was high in me, and I 
 wanted a round with the gloves — or, indeed, without 
 them — at all events, I sent the challenge. But now, 
 Doctor, I have to own myself a craven. I dread the 
 visit. Could you manage to interpose ? could you 
 suggest that it is by your order I am not permitted 
 to receive her ? could you hint," here he smiled half- 
 maliciously, " that you do not think the time is come 
 for anodynes — eh. Doctor?" 
 
 " Leave it to me. I wiU speak to Lady Lendrick."
 
 A DIFFICULT PATIENT. 29 
 
 " There's another thing ; not that it much matters ; 
 but it might perhaps be as well to send a few lines to 
 the morning papers, to say the accounts of the Chief 
 Baron are more favourable to-day ; he passed a tran- 
 quil night, and so on. Pemberton won't like it ; nor 
 Hayes ; but it will calm the fears of a very attached 
 friend who calls here twice daily. You'd never guess 
 him. He is the agent of the Globe office, where I am 
 insured. Ah, Doctor, it was a bright thought of Phi- 
 lanthropy to establish an industrial enterprise that 
 is bound, under heavy recognisances, to be grieved at 
 our death." 
 
 " I must not make you talk. Sir William. I must 
 not encourage you to exert yourself. I'll say good- 
 bye, and look in upon you this afternoon." 
 
 " Am I to have a book ? Well ; be it so. I'll 
 sit and muse over the Attorney - General and his 
 hopes." 
 
 " I have got two very interesting miniatures here. 
 I'll leave them with you ; you might like to look at 
 them." 
 
 " Miniatures ! whose portraits are they ? " asked 
 the other, hastily, as he almost snatched them from 
 his hand. " What a miserable juggler ! what a 
 stale trick this ! " said he, as he opened the 
 case which contained the young man's picture. 
 " So, sir ; you lend yourself to such attempts as 
 these."
 
 30 SIE BEOOK FOSSBKOOKE. 
 
 " I don't understand yon," said Beattie, indig- 
 nantly. 
 
 "Yes, sir; you understand me perfectly. You 
 would do, by a j)iece of legerdemain, what you have 
 not tlie courage to attempt openly. These are Tom 
 Lendrick's children." 
 
 "They are." 
 
 " And this simpering young lady is her mother's 
 image; pretty, pretty, no doubt'; and a little — 
 a shade, perhaps — of espieglerie above what her 
 mother possessed. She was the silliest woman 
 that ever turned a fool's head. She had the inef- 
 fable folly, sir, to believe she could persuade me to 
 forgive my son for having married her ; and when 
 I handed her to a seat — for she was at my knees — 
 she fainted." 
 
 "Well. It is time to forgive him now. As for 
 her, she is beyond forgiveness, or favour either," said 
 Beattie, with more energy than before. 
 
 " There is no such trial to a man in a high calling 
 as the temptation it offers him to step beyond it. 
 Take care, sir, that with all your acknowledged abil- 
 ity, this temptation be not too much for you." The 
 tone and manner in which the old Judge delivered 
 these words recalled the justice-seat. " It is an hon- 
 our to me to have you as my doctor, sir. It would 
 be to disparage my own intelligence to accept you as 
 my confessor."
 
 A DIFFICULT PATIENT. 31 
 
 " A doctor but discharges half his trust when he 
 fails to warn his patient against the effects of irrita- 
 bility." 
 
 " The man who would presume to minister to my 
 temper or to my nature should be no longer medico 
 of mine. With what intention, sir, did you bring me 
 these miniatures ? " 
 
 " That you might see two bright and beautiful 
 faces, whose owners are bound to you by the strong- 
 est ties of blood." 
 
 "Do you know, sir — have you ever heard — how 
 their father, by his wilfulness, by his folly, by his 
 heartless denial of my right to influence him, ruined 
 the fortune that cost my life of struggle and labour 
 to create?" 
 
 The Doctor shook his head, and the other con- 
 tinued. " Then I will tell it to you, sir. It is more 
 than seventeen years to-day when the then Viceroy 
 sent for me and said, ' Baron Lendrick, there is no 
 man, after Plunkett, to whom we owe more than to 
 yourself I bowed, and said, ' I do not accept the 
 qualification, my Lord, even in favour of the distin- 
 guished Chancellor. I will not believe myself second 
 to any.' I need not relate what ensued ; the discus- 
 sion was a long one — it was also a warm one ; but he 
 came back at last to the object of the interview, which 
 was to say that the Prime Minister was willing to 
 recommend my name to her Majesty for the Peerage
 
 32 SIR BROOK FOSSBROOKE. 
 
 — an honour, lie was pleased to say, the public would 
 see conferred upon me with approval ; and I refused ! 
 Yes, sir, I refused what for thirty odd years had 
 formed the pride and the prize of my existence ! I 
 refused it, because I would not that her Majesty's 
 favour should descend to one so unworthy of it as 
 this fellow, or that his low-born children should in- 
 herit a high name of my procuring. I refused, sir, 
 and I told the noble Marquess my reasons. He tried 
 — pretty much as you have tried — to briag me to a 
 more forgiving spirit ; but I stopped him by saying, 
 ' When I hear that your Excellency has invited to 
 your table the scurrilous author of the lampoon 
 against you in the ' Satirist,' I will begin to listen 
 to the claims that may be urged on the score of for- 
 giveness : not till then.' " 
 
 " I am wrong — very wrong — to let you talk on 
 themes like this ; we must keep them for calmer 
 moments." Beattie laid his finger on the pulse as he 
 spoke, and counted the beats by his watch. 
 
 " Well, sir, what says Death ? will he consent to a 
 ' nolle prosequi,' or must the cause go on ? " 
 
 " You are not worse ; and even that, after all this 
 excitement, is something. Good-bye now till even- 
 ing. No books — no newspapers, remember. Doze; 
 dream ; do anything but excite yourself" 
 
 " You are cruel, sir ; you cut off all my enjoyments
 
 A DIFFICULT PATIENT. 33 
 
 together. You deny me the resources of reading, and 
 you deny me the solace of my wife's society." The 
 cutting sarcasm of the last words was shown in the 
 spiteful sparkle of his eye, and the insolent curl of 
 his mouth ; and as the Doctor retired, the memory of 
 that wicked look haunted him throughout the day. 
 
 VOL. 1.
 
 CHAPTEK IV. 
 
 HOME DIPLOMACIES. 
 
 " Well, it's done now, Lucy, and it can't be helped," 
 said young Lendrick to his sister, as, with an un- 
 lighted cigar between his lips, and his hands in the 
 pockets of his shooting-jacket, he walked impatiently 
 up and down the drawing-room. " I'm sure if I only 
 suspected you were so strongly against it, I'd not 
 have done it." 
 
 " My dear Tom, I'm only against it because I think 
 papa would be so. You know we never see any one 
 here when he is at home, and why should we now, 
 because he is absent ? " 
 
 " Just for that reason. It's our only chance, girl." 
 
 "Oh, Tom!" 
 
 " Well, I don't mean that exactly, but I said it to 
 startle you. No, Lucy ; but you see here's how the 
 matter stands. I have been three whole days in their 
 company. On Tuesday the young fellow gave me 
 that book of flies and the top-joint of my rod. Yes-
 
 HOME DIPLOMACIES. 35 
 
 terday I lunched with them. To-day they pressed 
 me so hard to dine with them that I felt almost rude 
 in persisting to refuse ; and it was as much to avoid 
 the awkwardness of the situation as anything else 
 that I asked them up to tea this evening." 
 
 " I'm sure, Tom, if it would give you any pleas- 
 ure " 
 
 " Of course it gives me pleasure," broke he in ; "I 
 don't suspect that fellows of my age like to live like 
 hermits. And whom do I ever see down here ? Old 
 Mills and old Tobin, and Larry Day, the dog-breaker. 
 I ask his pardon for putting him last, for he is the 
 best of the three. Girls can stand this sort of nun's 
 life, but m be hanged if it wiU do for us." 
 
 "And then, Tom," resumed she, in the same tone, 
 " remember they are both perfect strangers. I doubt 
 if you even know their names." 
 
 " That I do — the old fellow is Sir Brook something 
 or other. It's not Fogey, but it begins like it ; and 
 the other is called Trafford — Lionel, I think, is his 
 christian name. A glorious fellow too ; was in the 
 9th Lancers and in the Blues, and is now here with 
 the fifty — th because he went it too hard in the 
 cavalry. He had a horse for the Derby two years 
 ago." The tone of proud triumph in which he made 
 this announcement seemed to say. Now, all discus- 
 sion about him may cease. "Not but," added he, 
 after a pause, " you might like the old fellow best ;
 
 36 SIR BROOK FOSSBROOKE. 
 
 lie has siicli a world of stories, and lie draws so beau- 
 tifully. The whole time we were in the boat he was 
 sketching something ; and he has a book full of odds 
 and ends; a tea-party in China, quail-shooting in 
 Java, a wedding in Candia — I can't tell what more ; 
 but he's to bring them up here with him/' 
 
 " I was thinking, Tom, that it might be as well if 
 you'd go down and ask Dr Mills to come to tea. It 
 would take off some of the awkwardness of our re- 
 ceiving two strangers." 
 
 " But they're not strangers, Lucy ; not a bit of it. 
 I call him Trafford, and he calls me Lendrick ; and 
 the old cove is the most familiar old fellow I ever 
 met." 
 
 " Have you said anything to Nicholas yet ? " asked 
 she, in some eagerness. 
 
 '* No ; and that's exactly what I want you to do for 
 me. That old bear bullies us all so, that I can't trust 
 myself to speak to him." 
 
 " Well, don't go away, and I'll send for him now," 
 and she rang the bell as she spoke. A smart-looking 
 lad answered the summons, to whom she said, " Tell 
 Nicholas I want him." 
 
 " Take my advice, Lucy, and merely say there are 
 two gentlemen coming to tea this evening ; don't let 
 the old villain think you are consulting him about it, 
 or asking his advice." 
 
 "I must do it my own way," said she; "only
 
 HOME DIPLOMACIES. 37 
 
 don't interrupt. Don't meddle — mind tliat, Tom." 
 The door opened, and a very short, thick-set old 
 man, dressed in a black coat and waistcoat, and drab 
 breeches and white stockings, with large shoe-buckles 
 in his shoes, entered. His face was large and red, 
 the mouth immensely wide, and the eyes far set from 
 each other, his low forehead being shadowed by a 
 wig of coarse red hair, which moved when he spoke, 
 and seemed almost to possess a sort of independent 
 vitality. 
 
 He had been reading when he was summoned, and 
 his spectacles had been pushed up over his forehead, 
 while he still held the county paper in his hand — a 
 sort of proud protest against being disturbed. 
 
 " You heard that Miss Lucy sent for you ? " said 
 Tom Lendrick, haughtily, as his eye fell upon the 
 newspaper. 
 
 " I did," was the curt answer, as the old fellow, 
 with a nervous shake of the head, seemed to an- 
 nounce that he was ready for battle. 
 
 " What I wanted, Nicholas, was this," interposed 
 the girl, in a voice of very winning sweetness ; " Mr 
 Tom has invited two gentlemen this evening to tea." 
 
 " To tay ! " cried Nicholas, as if the fact staggered 
 all credulity. 
 
 " Yes, to tea ; and I was thinking if you would go 
 •down to the town and get some biscuits, or a sponge- 
 cake perhaps — whatever, indeed, you thought best ;
 
 38 SIR BROOK FOSSBROOKE. 
 
 and also beg Dr Mills to step in, saying that as papa 
 was away " 
 
 " That you was going to give a ball ? " 
 . " N"o. Not exactly that, Nicholas," said she, smil- 
 ing ; " but that two friends of my brother's " 
 
 " And where did he meet his friends 1 " cried he, 
 with a marked emphasis on the friends. "Two 
 strangers. God knows who or what! Poachers as 
 like as anything else. The ould one might be worse." 
 
 "Enough of this," said Tom, sternly. "Are you 
 the master here ? Go off, sir, and do what Miss Lucy 
 has ordered you.'* 
 
 " I will not — the devil a step," said the old man, 
 who now thrust the paper into a capacious pocket, 
 and struck each hand on a hip. ''Is it when the 
 ' Jidge ' is dying, when the newspapers has a column 
 of the names that's calling to ask after him, you're to 
 be carousing and feastin' here 1 " 
 
 "Dear Nicholas, there's no question of feasting. 
 It is simply a cup of tea we mean to give ; surely 
 there's no carousing in that. And as to grandpapa, 
 papa says that he was certainly better yesterday, and 
 Dr Beattie has hopes now." 
 
 . " I haven't then, and I know him better than Dr 
 Beattie." 
 
 "What a pity they haven't sent for you for the 
 consultation," said Tom, ironically. 
 ; " And look here, Nicholas," said Lucy, drawing
 
 HOME DIPLOMACIES. 39 
 
 the old man towards the door of a small room that 
 led off the drawing-room. " We could have tea here ; 
 it will look less formal, and give less trouble ; and 
 Meares could wait — he does it very well ; and you 
 needn't be put out at all." These last words fell 
 to a whisper; but he was beyond reserve, beyond 
 flattery. The last speech of her brother still rankled 
 in his memory, and all that fell upon his ear since 
 that fell unheeded. 
 
 " I was with your grandfather. Master Tom," said 
 the old man, slowly, " twenty-one years before you 
 were born ! I carried his bag down to Court the day 
 he defended Neal 0' Gorman for high treason, and I 
 was with him the morning he shot Luke Dillon at 
 Castle Knock ; and this I'll say and stand to, there's 
 not a man in Ireland, high or low, knows the Chief 
 Baron better than myself." 
 
 " It must be a great comfort to you both," said 
 Tom ; but his sister had laid her hand on his mouth 
 and made the words unintelligible. 
 
 "You'll say to Mr Mills, Nicholas," said she, in 
 her most coaxing way, " that I did not write, because 
 I preferred sending my message by you, who could 
 explain why I particularly wanted him this evening." 
 
 *' I'll go, Miss Lucy, resarving the point, as they 
 say in the law — resarving the point ! because I don't 
 give in that what you're doin' is right ; and when the 
 master comes home, I'm not goin' to defend it."
 
 40 SIR BEOOK FOSSBEOOKE. 
 
 '' We must bear up under that calamity as well as 
 we can/' said the young man, insolently; but Mcbolas 
 never looked towards or seemed to hear him. 
 
 " A barn-a-brack is better than a sponge-cake, be- 
 cause if there's some of it left it doesn't get stale, and 
 one-and-sixpence will be enough ; and I suppose you 
 don't need a lamp ? " 
 
 " Well, Nicholas, I must say, I think it would be 
 better ; and two candles on the small table, and two 
 on the piano." 
 
 " Why don't you mention a fiddler ? " said he, bit- 
 terly. " If it's a ball, there ought to be music ? " 
 
 Unable to control himself longer, yoimg Lendrick 
 wrenched open the sash-door, and walked out into 
 the lawn. 
 
 " The devil such a family for temper from this to 
 Bantry!" said Nicholas; "and here's the company 
 comin' already, or I'm mistaken. There's a boat 
 makin' for the landing-place with two men in the 
 stern." 
 
 Lucy implored him once more to lose no time on 
 his errand, and hastened away to make some change 
 in her dress to receive the strangers. Meanwhile 
 Tom having seen the boat, walked down to the shore 
 to meet his friends. 
 
 Both Sir Brook and Trafford were enthusiastic in 
 their praises of the spot. Its natural beauty was 
 indeed great, but taste and culture had rendered it a
 
 HOME DIPLOMACIES. 41 
 
 marvel of elegance and refinement. Not merely were 
 the trees grouped with reference to foliage and tint, 
 but the flower-beds were so arranged that the laws of 
 colour should be respected, and thus these plats of 
 perfume were not less luxuriously rich in odour than 
 they were captivating as pictures. 
 
 " It is all the governor's own doing," said Tom, 
 proudly, " and he is continually changing the disposi- 
 tion of the plants. He says variety is a law of the 
 natural world, and it is our duty to imitate it. Here 
 comes my sister, gentlemen." 
 
 As though set in a beautiful frame, the lovely girl 
 stood for an instant in the porch, where drooping 
 honeysuckles and the tangled branches of a vine 
 hung around her, and then came courteously to meet 
 and welcome them. 
 
 " I am in ecstasy with all I see here, Miss Len- 
 drick," said Sir Brook. " Old traveller that I am, I 
 scarcely know where I have ever seen such a combi- 
 nation of beauty." 
 
 " Papa will be delighted to hear this," said she, with 
 a pleasant smile ; " it is the flattery he loves best." 
 
 " I'm always saying we could keep up a salmon- 
 weir on the river for a tithe of what these carnations 
 and primroses cost us," said Tom. 
 
 " Why, sir, if you had been in Eden you'd have 
 made it a market-garden," said the old man. 
 
 " If the governor was a Duke of Devonshire all
 
 42 SIR BROOK FOSSBROOKE. 
 
 these caprices might be pardonable ; but my theory- 
 is, roast-beef before roses." 
 
 While young Lendrick attached himself to Trafford, 
 and took him here and there to show him the grounds, 
 Sir Brook walked beside Lucy, who did the honours 
 of the place with a most charming courtesy. 
 
 " I am almost ashamed, sir," said she, as they 
 turned towards the house, " to have asked you to see 
 such humble objects as these to which we attach 
 value, for my brother tells me you are a great tra- 
 veller ; but it is just possible you have met in your 
 journeys others who, like us, lived so much out of the 
 world that they fancied they had the prettiest spot in 
 it for their own." 
 
 " You must not ask me what I think of all I have 
 seen here. Miss Lendrick, till my enthusiasm calms 
 down ; " and his look of admiration, so palpably ad- 
 dressed to herself, sent a flush to her cheek. "A 
 man's belongings are his history," said Sir Brook, 
 quickly turning the conversation into an easier chan- 
 nel : " show me his study, his stable, his garden ; let 
 me see his hat, his cane, the volume he thrusts into 
 his pocket, and I'll make you an indifferent good 
 guess about his daily doings." 
 
 " Tell me of papa's. Come here, Tom," cried she, 
 as the two young men came towards her, " and listen 
 to a bit of divination." 
 
 "Nay, I never promised a lecture. I offered a
 
 HOME DIPLOMACIES. 43 
 
 confidence/' said he, in a half whisper ; but she went 
 on — " Sir Brook says that he reads people pretty 
 much as Cuvier pronounced on a mastodon by some 
 small minute detail that pertained to them. Here's 
 Tom's cigar-case," said she, taking it from his pocket; 
 " what do you infer from that, sir ? " 
 
 " That he smokes the most execrable tobacco." 
 
 " But can you say why ? " asked Tom, with a sly 
 twinkle of his eye. 
 
 " Probably for the same reason I do myself," said 
 Sir Brook, producing a very cheap cigar. 
 
 " Oh, that's a veritable Cuban compared to one of 
 mine," cried Tom ; " and by way of making my future 
 life miserable, here has been Mr Trafford filling my 
 pocket with real Havannahs, giving me a taste for 
 luxuries I ought never to have known of" 
 
 " Know everything, sir, go everywhere, see all that 
 the world can show you ; the wider a man's expe- 
 riences the larger his nature and the more open his 
 heart," said Fossbrooke, boldly. 
 
 "I like the theory," said Trafford to Miss Len- 
 drick ; " do you ? " 
 
 " Sir Brook never meant it for women, I fancy," 
 said she, in a low tone ; but the old man overheard 
 her, and said, " You are right. The guide ought to 
 know every part of the mountain, the traveller need 
 only know the path." 
 
 " Here comes a guide who is satisfied with very
 
 44 SIR BROOK FOSSBROOKE. 
 
 short excursions/' cried Tom, laughing ; " this is our 
 parson, Dr Mills." 
 
 The little mellow -looking, well -cared -for person 
 who now joined them was a perfect type of old- 
 bachelorhood, in its aspect of not unpleasant selfish- 
 ness. Everything about him was neat, orderly, and 
 appropriate ; and though you saw at a glance it was 
 all for himself and his own enjoyment it was pro- 
 vided, his good manners and courtesy were ever 
 ready to extend its benefits to others ; and a certain 
 genial look he wore, and a manner that nature had 
 gifted him with, did him right good service in life, 
 and made him pass for " an excellent fellow, though 
 not much of a parson." 
 
 He was of use now, if only that by his presence 
 Lucy felt more at ease, not to say that his violon- 
 cello, which always remained at the Nest, made 
 a pleasant accompaniment when she played, and 
 that he sang with much taste some of those lyrics 
 which are as much linked to Ireland by poetry as 
 by music. 
 
 " I wish he was our chaplain — by Jove, I do ! " 
 whispered Trafford to Lendrick; "he's the j oiliest 
 fellow of his cloth I have ever met." 
 
 " And such a cook," muttered the other. 
 
 " A cook ! " 
 
 " Ay, a cook. I'll make him ask us to dinner, and 
 you'll tell me if you ever ate fish as he gives it, or
 
 HOME DIPLOMACIES. 45 
 
 tasted maccaroni as dressed by him. I have a salmon 
 for you, Doctor, a ten -pound fish. I wish it were 
 bigger ; but it is in splendid order." 
 
 " Did you set it ? " asked the parson, eagerly. 
 
 " What does he mean by set it ? " whispered Traf- 
 ford. 
 
 " Setting means plunging it in very hot water soon 
 after killing it, to preserve and harden the ' curd. ' 
 Yes ; and I took your hint about the arbutus leaves 
 too. Doctor. I covered it all up with them." 
 
 " You are a teachable youth, and shall be rewarded. 
 Come and eat him to-morrow. Dare I hope that 
 these gentlemen are disengaged, and will honour my 
 poor parsonage? Will you favour me with your 
 company at five o'clock, sir ? " 
 
 Sir Brook bowed, and accepted the invitation with 
 pleasure. 
 
 " And you, sir ? " 
 
 " Only too happy," said Trafford. 
 
 " Lucy, my dear, you must be one of us." 
 
 ''Oh, I could not; it is impossible. Doctor — you 
 know it is." 
 
 " I know nothing of the kind." 
 
 " Papa away — not to speak of his never encourag- 
 ing us to leave home," muttered she, in a whisper. 
 
 "I accept no excuses, Lucy; such a rare oppor- 
 tunity may not occur to me in a hurry. Mrs Bren- 
 nan, my housekeeper, will be so proud to see you,
 
 46 SIR BROOK FOSSBROOKE. 
 
 that I'm not sure she'll not treat these gentlemen to 
 her brandy peaches — a delicacy, I feel bound to say, 
 she has never conceded to any one less than the 
 bishop of the diocese." 
 
 " Don't ask me, Doctor. I know that papa " 
 
 But he broke in, saying — 
 
 " 'You know I'm your priest, and your conscience is mine ;' 
 
 and besides, I really do want to see how the parson- 
 age wiU look with a lady at the top of the table : 
 who knows what it may lead to ?" 
 
 " Come, Lucy, that's the nearest thing to a proposal 
 I've heard for some time. You really must go now," 
 said Tom. 
 
 "Papa wiU not like it," whispered she in his 
 ear. 
 
 "Then he'll have to settle the matter with me, 
 Lucy," said the Doctor, " for it was I who overruled 
 you." 
 
 " Don't look to me. Miss Lendrick, to sustain you 
 in your refusal," said Sir Brook, as the young girl 
 turned towards him. " I have the strongest interest 
 in seeing the Doctor successful." 
 
 If Trafford said nothing, the glance he gave her 
 more than backed the old man's speech, and she 
 turned away half vexed, half pleased, puzzled how 
 to act, and flattered at the same time by an amount 
 of attention so new to her and so strange. Still she
 
 HOME DIPLOMACIES. 47 
 
 could not bring herself to promise she would go, 
 and wished them all good -night at last, without 
 a pledge. 
 
 " Of course she will," muttered Tom in the Doctor's 
 ear. " She's afraid of the governor ; but I know he'll 
 not be displeased — ^you may reckon on her."
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 THE PICNIC ON HOLY ISLAND. 
 
 From the day that Sir Brook made the acquaintance 
 of Tom Lendrick and his sister, he determined he 
 would " pitch his tent," as he called it, for some time 
 at Killaloe. They had, so to say, captivated the old 
 man. The young fellow, by his frank, open, manly 
 nature, his ardent love of sport in ev^y shape, his 
 invariable good-humour, and more than all these, by 
 the unaffected simplicity of his character, had strongly 
 interested him ; while Lucy had made a far deeper 
 impression by her gentleness, her refinement, an ele- 
 gance in deportment that no teaching ever gives, 
 and, along with these, a mind stored with thought 
 and reflectiveness. Let us, however, be just to each, 
 and own that her beauty and the marvellous fascina- 
 tion of her smile gave her, even in that old man's 
 eyes, an irresistible charm. It was a very long by- 
 gone, but he had once been in love, and the faint 
 flicker of the memory had yet survived in his heart.
 
 THE PICNIC ON HOLY ISLAND. 49 
 
 It was just as likely Lucy bore no resemblance to her 
 he bad loved, but he fancied she did — he imagined 
 that she was her very image. That was the smile, 
 the glance, the tone, the gesture, which once had set 
 his heart a-throbbing, and the illusion threw around 
 her an immense fascination. 
 
 She liked him, too. Through all the strange in- 
 congruities of his character, his restless love of ad- 
 venture and excitement, there ran a gentle liking 
 for quiet pleasures. He loved scenery passionately, 
 and with a painter's taste for colour and form ; he 
 loved poetry, which he read with a wondrous charm 
 of voice and intonation. !N'or was it without its pecu- 
 liar power, this homage of an old old man, who ren- 
 dered her the attentive service of a devoted admirer. 
 
 There is a very subtle flattery in the obsequious 
 devotion of age to youth. It is, at least, an honest 
 worship, an unselfish offering, and in this way the 
 object of it niay well feel proud of its tribute. 
 
 From the Vicar, Dr Mills, Fossbrooke had learned 
 the chief events of Dr Lendrick's history, of his es- 
 trangement from his father, his fastidious retirement 
 from the world, and last of all his narrow fortime, 
 apparently now growing narrower, since within the 
 last year he had withdrawn his son from the Univer- 
 sity on the score of its expense. 
 
 A gold-medallist and a scholar, Dr Lendrick would 
 have eagerly coveted such honours for his son. It 
 
 VOL. I. D
 
 50 SIR BROOK FOSSBROOKE. 
 
 was probably the one triiimpli in life be would have 
 set most store by, but Tom was one not made for 
 collegiate successes. He had abilities, but they were 
 not teachable qualities ; he could pick up a certain 
 amount of almost anything, — he could learn nothing. 
 He could carry away from a chance conversation an 
 amount of knowledge it had cost the talkers years to 
 acquire, and yet, set him down regularly to work 
 book- fashion, and either from want of energy, or con- 
 centration, or of that strong will which masters diffi- 
 culties, just as a full current carries all before it — 
 whichever of these was his defect — he arose from his 
 task wearied, worn, but unadvanced. 
 
 When, therefore, his father would speak, as he 
 sometimes did in confidence to the Vicar, in a tone 
 of depression about Tom's deficiencies, the honest 
 parson would feel perfectly lost in amazement at 
 what he meant. To his eyes Tom Lendrick was a 
 wonder, a prodigy. There was not a theme he could 
 not talk on, and talk well too. " It was but the other 
 day he told the chief engineer of the Shannon Com- 
 pany more about the geological formation of the river- 
 basin than all his staff knew. Ay, and what's 
 stranger," added the Vicar, "he understands the 
 whole Colenso controversy better than I do myself." 
 It is just possible that in the last panegyric there 
 was nothing of exaggeration or excess. " And with 
 aU that, sir, his father goes on brooding over his
 
 THE PICNIC ON HOLY ISLAND. 51 
 
 neglected education, and foreshadowing tlie worst 
 results from his ignorance." 
 
 " He is a fine fellow/' said Fossbrooke, " but not to 
 be compared with his sister." 
 
 " Not for mere looks, perhaps, nor for a graceful 
 manner, and a winning address ; but who would think 
 of ranking Lucy's abilities with her brother's ?" 
 
 " Not I," said Fossbrooke boldly, " for I place hers 
 far and away above them." 
 
 A sly twinkle of the Parson's eye showed to what 
 class of advantages he ascribed the other's preference ; 
 but he said no more, and the controversy ended. 
 
 Every morning found Sir Brook at the Swan's Nest. 
 He was fond of gardening, and had consummate 
 taste in laying out ground, so that many pleasant 
 surprises had been prepared for Dr Lendrick's return. 
 He drew, too, with great skill, and Lucy made con- 
 siderable progress under his teaching ; and as they 
 grew more intimate, and she was not ashamed of the 
 confession that she delighted in the Georgics of Virgil, 
 they read whole hours together of those picturesque 
 descriptions of rural life and its occupations, which 
 are as true to nature at this hour as on the day they 
 were written. 
 
 Perhaps the old man fancied that it was he who 
 had suggested this intense appreciation of the poet. 
 It is just possible that the young girl believed that 
 she had reclaimed a wild, erratic, eccentric nature, and 
 
 u« OP lu- Lia
 
 52 SIR BROOK FOSSBROOKE. 
 
 brought him back to the love of simple pleasures and a 
 purer source of enjoyment. "Whichever way the truth 
 inclined, each was happy, each contented. And how 
 fond are we all, of every age, of playing the missionary, 
 of setting off into the savage districts of our neigh- 
 bours' natures and combating their false idols, their 
 superstitions and strange rites ! The least adventur- 
 ous and the least imaginative have these little out- 
 bursts of conversion, and all are more or less propa- 
 gandists. 
 
 It was one morning, a bright and glorious one too, 
 that while Tom and Lucy were yet at breakfast Sir 
 Brook arrived and entered the breakfast-room. 
 
 " What a day for a grey hackle, in that dark pool 
 under the larch trees !" cried Tom, as he saw him. 
 
 " What a day for a long walk to Mount Laurel ! " 
 said Lucy. '' You said, t'other morning, you wanted 
 cloud effects on the upper lake. I'll show you splendid 
 ones to-day." 
 
 " I'U promise you a fuU basket before four o'clock," 
 broke in Tom. 
 
 " I'U promise you a full sketch-book," said Lucy, 
 with one of her sweetest smiles. 
 
 " And I'm going to refuse both ; for I have a plan 
 of my own, and a plan not to be gainsaid." 
 
 " I know it. You want us to go to work on that 
 fish-pond. I'm certain it's that.'* 
 
 " No, Tom ; it's the catalogue — the weary catalogue
 
 THE PICNIC ON HOLY ISLAND. 53 
 
 that he told me, as a punisliment for not being able 
 to find Machiavelli's Comedies last week, he'd make 
 me sit down to on the first lovely morning that came." 
 
 "Better that than those dreary Georgics which 
 remind one of school, and the third form. But 
 what's your plan, Sir Brook ? We have thought of 
 all the projects that can terrify us, and you look as 
 if it ought to be a terror." 
 
 " Mine is a plan for pleasure, and pleasure only ; 
 so pack up at once, and get ready. Trafford arrived 
 this morning." 
 
 "Where is he? I am so glad! Where's Trafford?" 
 cried Tom, delighted. 
 
 " I have despatched him with the Vicar and two 
 well- filled hampers to Holy Island, where I mean 
 that we shall all picnic. There's my plan." 
 
 " And a jolly plan, too ! I adhere uncondition- 
 aUy." 
 
 "And you, Lucy, what do you say?" asked Sir 
 Brook, as the young girl stood with a look of some 
 indecision and embarrassment. 
 
 " I don't say that it's not a very pleasant project, 
 but " 
 
 " But what, Lucy ? Wliere's the but ? " 
 
 She whispered a few words in his ear, and he cried 
 out, " Isn't this too bad ? She tells me Nicholas does 
 not like all this gaiety ; that Nicholas disapproves of 
 our mode of life."
 
 54 . SIR BROOK FOSSBROOKE. 
 
 " No, Tom ; I only said Nicholas thinks that papa 
 would not like it." 
 
 " Couldn't we see Nicholas ? Couldn't we have a 
 commission to examine Nicholas 1 " asked Sir Brook, 
 laughingly. 
 
 " 111 not be on it, that's all I know ; for I should 
 finish by chucking the witness into the Shannon. 
 Come along, Lucy; don't let us lose this glorious 
 morning. I'll get some lines and hooks together. 
 Be sure you're ready when I come back." 
 
 As the door closed after him. Sir Brook drew near 
 to Lucy where she stood in an attitude of doubt and 
 hesitation. " I mustn't risk your good opinion of 
 me rashly. If you really dislike this excursion, I 
 ^\all give it up," said he, in a low gentle voice. 
 
 " Dislike it ? No ; far from it. I suspect I would 
 enjoy it more than any of you. My reluctance was 
 simply on the ground that all this is so unlike the 
 life we have been leading hitherto. Papa will surely 
 disapprove of it. Oh, there comes Nicholas with a 
 letter 1 " cried she, opening the sash-window. " Give 
 it to me ; it is from papa." 
 
 She broke the seal hurriedly, and ran rapidly over 
 the lines. " Oh, yes ! I will go now, and go with 
 delight too. It is full of good news. He is to see 
 grandpapa, if not to-morrow, the day after. He 
 hopes all will be well. Papa knows your name. Sir 
 Brook. He says, ' Ask your friend Sir Brook if he
 
 THE PICNIC ON HOLY ISLAND. 55 
 
 be any relative of a Sir Brook Fossbrooke wlio 
 rescued Captain Langton some forty years ago from 
 a Neapolitan prison. The print-sliops were filled 
 with his likeness when I was a boy.' Was he one 
 of your family ? " inquired she, looking up at him. 
 
 " I am the man/^ said he, calmly and coldly. 
 "Langton was sentenced to the galleys for life for 
 having struck the Count d'Aconi across the face with 
 his glove ; and the Count was nephew to the King. 
 They had him at Capri working in chains, and I 
 landed with my yacht's crew and liberated him." 
 
 " What a daring thing to do ! " 
 
 " Not so daring as you fancy. The guard was sur- 
 prised, and fled. It was only when reinforced that 
 they showed fight. Our toughest enemies were the 
 galley-slaves, who, when they discovered that we 
 never meant to liberate them, attacked us with stones. 
 This scar on my temple is a memorial of the affair." 
 
 " And Langton, what became of him ? " 
 
 " He is now Lord Burrowfield. He gave me two 
 fingers to shake the last time I met him at the Tra- 
 vellers." 
 
 " Oh, don't say that ! Oh, don't tell me of such 
 ingratitude ! " 
 
 " My dear child, people usually regard gratitude as 
 a debt, which, once acknowledged, is acquitted ; and 
 perhaps they . are right. It makes all intercourse 
 freer and less trammelled."
 
 56 SIR BROOK FOSSBROOKE. 
 
 " Here comes Tom. May I tell him this story, or 
 will you tell him yourself ? " 
 
 " Not either, my dear Lucy. Your brother's blood 
 is over-hot as it is. Let him not have any prompt- 
 ings to such exploits as these." 
 
 *' But I may tell papa ? " 
 
 "Just as well not, Lucy. There were scores of 
 wild things attributed to me in those days. He may 
 possibly remember some of them, and begin to sus- 
 pect that his daughter might be in better company." 
 
 " How was it that you never told me of this ex- 
 ploit ? " asked she, looking not without admiration at 
 the hard stern features before her. 
 
 '' My dear child, egotism is the besetting sin of old 
 people, and even the most cautious lapse into it occa- 
 sionally. Set me once a-talking of myself, all my 
 prudence, all my reserve vanishes ; so that, as a meas- 
 ure of safety for my friends and myself too, I avoid 
 the theme when I can. There ! Tom is beckoning 
 to us. Let us go to him at once." 
 
 Holy Island, or Inishcaltra, to give it its Irish 
 name, is a wild spot, with little remarkable about it, 
 save the ruins of seven churches and a curious well 
 of fabulous depth. It was, however, a favourite spot 
 with the Vicar, whose taste in localities was some- 
 how always associated with some feature of festivity, 
 the great merit of the present spot being that you 
 could dine without any molestation from beggars. In
 
 THE PICNIC ON HOLY ISLAND. 57 
 
 such estimation, indeed, did he hold the class, that 
 he seriously believed their craving importunity to be 
 one of the chief reasons of dyspepsia, and was pro- 
 foundly convinced that the presence of Lazarus at 
 his gate counterbalanced many of the goods which 
 fortune had bestowed upon Dives. 
 
 "Here we dine in real comfort," said he, as he 
 seated himself under the shelter of an ivy-covered 
 wall, with a wide reach of the lake at his feet. 
 
 " When I come back from California with that 
 million or two," said Tom, " I'll build a cottage here, 
 w^here we can all come and dine continually." 
 
 " Let us keep the anniversary of the present day 
 as a sort of foundation era," said the Vicar. 
 
 " I like everything that promises pleasure," said 
 Sir Brook, " but I like to stipulate that we do not 
 draw too long a bill on Fortune. Think how long a 
 year is. This time twelvemonth, for example, you, 
 my dear Doctor, may be a bishop, and not over in- 
 clined to these harmless levities. Tom there will be, 
 as he hints, gold -crushing, at the end of the earth. 
 Trafford, not improbably, ruling some rajah's king- 
 dom in the far East. Of your destiny, fair Lucy, 
 brightest of all, it is not for me to speak. Of my 
 own it is not worth speaking." 
 
 " Nolo episcopari," said the Yicar ; " pass me the 
 madeira." 
 
 "You forget, perhaps, that is the phrase for
 
 58 ' SIR BROOK FOSSBROOKE. 
 
 accepting the mitre," said Sir Brook, laughing. 
 " Bishops, like belles, say No when they mean Yes." 
 
 " And who told you that belles did ? " broke in 
 Lucy. " I am in a sad minority here, but I stand 
 up for my sex." 
 
 " I repeat a popular prejudice, fair lady." 
 
 " And Lucy will not have it that belles are as illo- 
 gical as bishops ? I see I was right in refusing the 
 bench," said the Vicar. 
 
 " What bright boon of Fortune is Trafford meditat- 
 ing the rejection of?" said Sir Brook ; and the young 
 fellow's cheek grew crimson as he tried to laugh off 
 the reply. 
 
 " Who made this salad ? " cried Tom. 
 
 " It was I ; who dares to question it ? " said Lucy. 
 '' The Doctor has helped himself twice to it, and that 
 test I take to be a certificate to character." 
 
 " I used to have some skill in dressing a salad, but 
 I have foregone the practice for many a day; my 
 culinary gift got me sent out of Austria in twenty- 
 four hours. Oh, it's nothifig that deserves the name 
 of a story," said Sir Brook, as the others looked at 
 him for an explanation. " It was as long ago as the 
 year 1806. Sir Eobert Adair had been our minister 
 at Vienna, when, a rupture taking place between the 
 two Governments, he was recalled. He did not, 
 however, return to England, but continued to live as 
 a private" citizen at Vienna. Strangely enough, from
 
 THE PICNIC ON HOLY ISLAND. 59 
 
 f 
 
 the moment that our embassy ceased to be recognised 
 by the Government, our countrymen became objects 
 of especial civility. I myself, amongst the rest, was 
 the hien-venu in some of the great houses, and even 
 invited by Count Cobourg Cohari to those dejeilners 
 which he gave with such splendour at Maria Hulfe. 
 
 " At one of these, as a dish of salad was handed 
 round, instead of eating it, like the others, I pro- 
 ceeded to make a very complicated dressing for it 
 on my plate, calling for various condiments, and 
 seasoning my mess in a most refined and ingenious 
 manner. No sooner had I given the finishing touch 
 to my great achievement when the Grand-duchess 
 Sophia, who it seems had watched the whole per- 
 formance, sent a servant round to beg that I would 
 send her my plate. She accompanied the request 
 with a little bow and a smile whose charm I can 
 still recall. Whatever the reason, before I awoke 
 next morning an agent of the police entered my 
 room and informed me my passports were made out 
 for Dresden, and that his orders were to give me the 
 pleasure of his society till I crossed the frontier. 
 There was no minister, no envoy to appeal to, and 
 nothing left but to comply. They said Go, and I 
 went." 
 
 " And all for a dish of salad ! " cried the Vicar. 
 
 "All for the bright eyes of an Archduchess, 
 rather," broke in Lucy, laugliing.
 
 60 SIR BROOK FOSSBROOKE. 
 
 The old man's grateful smile at tlie compliment to 
 his gallantry showed how, even in a heart so world- 
 worn, the vanity of youth survived. 
 
 " I declare it was very hard," said Tom — " precious 
 hard." 
 
 " If you mean to give up the salad, so think I 
 too," cried the Vicar. 
 
 "I'll be shot if I'd have gone," broke in Traf- 
 ford. 
 
 "You'd probably have been shot if you had 
 stayed," replied Tom. 
 
 " There are things we submit to in life, not be- 
 cause the penalty of resistance affrights us, but be- 
 cause we half acquiesce in their justice. You, for 
 instance, Trafford, are well pleased to be here on 
 leave, and enjoy yourself, as I take it, considerably ; 
 and yet the call of duty — some very commonplace 
 duty, perhaps — would make you return to-morrow 
 in all haste." 
 
 " Of course it would," said Lucy. 
 
 " I'm not so sure of it," murmured Trafford, sul- 
 lenly; "I'd rather go into close arrest for a week 
 than I'd lose this day here." 
 
 " Bravo ! here's your health, Lionel," cried Tom. 
 " I do like to hear a fellow say he is willing to pay 
 the cost of what pleases him." 
 
 "I must preach wholesome doctrine, my young 
 friends," broke in the Vicar. " Now that we have
 
 THE PICNIC ON HOLY ISLAND. 61 
 
 dined well, I would like to say a word on ab- 
 stinence." 
 
 "You mean to take no coffee, Doctor, then?" 
 asked Lucy, laughing. 
 
 " That I do, my sweet child — coffee and a pipe 
 too, for I know you are tolerant of tobacco." 
 
 '' I hope she is," said Tom, " or she'd have a poor 
 time of it in the house with me." 
 
 " I'll put no coercion upon my tastes on this 
 occasion, for I'll take a stroll through the ruins, and 
 leave you to your wine," said she, rising. 
 
 They protested in a mass against her going. ^' We 
 cannot lock the door, Lucy, de, facto" said Sir Brook, 
 " but we do it figuratively." 
 
 "And in that case I make my escape by the 
 window," said she, springing through an old lancet- 
 shaped orifice in the Abbey wall. 
 
 " There goes down the sun and leaves us but a 
 grey twilight," said Sir Brook, mournfully, as he 
 looked after her. " If there were only enough 
 beanity on earth I verily believe we might dispense 
 with parsons." 
 
 " Push me over the bird's-eye, and let me nourish 
 myself till your millennium comes," said the Vicar. 
 
 " What a charming girl she is ! her very beauty 
 fades away before the graceful attraction of her 
 manner ! " whispered Sir Brook to the Doctor. 
 
 " Oh, if you but knew her as I do ! If you but
 
 62 SIR BROOK FOSSBROOKE. 
 
 knew how, sacrificing all the springtime of her 
 bright youth, she has never had a thought save to 
 make herself the companion of her poor father — a 
 sad, depressed, sorrow-struck man, only rescued from 
 despair by that companionship 1 I tell you, sir, 
 there is more courage in submitting one's self to the 
 nature of another than in facing a battery." 
 
 Sir Brook grasped the Parson's hand and shook it 
 cordially. The action spoke more than any words. 
 ''And the brother. Doctor — what say you of the 
 brother ? " whispered he. 
 
 " One of those that the old adage says ' either 
 makes the spoon or spoils the horn.' That's Master 
 Tom there." 
 
 Low as the words were uttered they caught the 
 sharp ears of him they spoke of, and with a laughing 
 eye he cried out, " What's that evil prediction you're 
 uttering about me. Doctor ? " 
 
 " 1 am just telling Sir Brook here that it's pure 
 head or tail how you turn out. There's stuff in you 
 to make a hero, but it's just as likely you'll stop 
 short at a highwayman." 
 
 " I think I could guess which of the two would 
 best suit the age we live in," said Tom, gaily. " Are 
 we to have another bottle of that madeira, for I 
 suspect I see the Doctor putting up the cork- 
 screw?" 
 
 " You are to have no more wine than what's before
 
 THE PICNIC ON HOLY ISLAND. 63 
 
 you till you land me at the quay of Killaloe. When 
 temperance means safety as well as forbearance, it's 
 one of the first of virtues." 
 
 The Vicar, indeed, soon grew impatient to depart. 
 Fine as the evening was then, it might change. 
 There was a feeling, too, not of damp, but chilli- 
 ness ; at all events, he was averse to being on the 
 water late, and as he was the great promoter of these 
 little convivial gatherings, his word was law. 
 
 It is not easy to explain how it happened that 
 Trafiford sat beside Lucy. Perhaps the trim of the 
 boat required it ; certainly, however, nothing re- 
 quired that the Vicar, who sat next Lucy on the 
 other side, should fall fast asleep almost as soon as 
 he set foot on board. Meanwhile, Sir Brook and 
 Tom had engaged in an animated discussion as to 
 the possibility of settling in Ireland as a man settles 
 in some lone island in the Pacific, teaching the 
 natives a few of the needs of civilisation and picking 
 up a few convenient ways of theirs in turn, Sir 
 Brook warming with the theme so far as to exclaim 
 at last, " If I only had a few of those thousands 
 left me which I lost, squandered, or gave away, I'd 
 try the scheme, and you should be my lieutenant, 
 Tom." 
 
 It was one of those projects, very pleasant in 
 their way, where men can mingle the serious with 
 the ludicrous — where actual wisdom may go hand
 
 64 SIR BROOK FOSSBROOKE. 
 
 in hand with downright absurdity ; and so did they 
 both understand it, mingling the very sagest reflec- 
 tions with projects the wildest and most eccentric. 
 Their life, as they sketched it, was to be almost 
 savage in freedom, untrammelled by all the tiresome 
 conventionalities of the outer world, and at the same 
 time offering such an example of contentedness and 
 comfort as to shame the condition of all without the 
 Pale. 
 
 They agreed that the Vicar must join them — he 
 should be their Bishop. He might grumble a little 
 at first about the want of hot plates or finger-glasses, 
 but he would soon fall into their ways, and some 
 native squaw would console him for the loss of Mrs 
 Brennan's housekeeping gifts. 
 
 And Trafford and Lucy all this time — what did 
 they talk of? Did they, too, imagine a future and 
 plan out a life-road in company ? Far too timid for 
 that — they lingered over the past, each asking some 
 trait of the other's childhood, eager to hear any little 
 incident which might mark character or indicate 
 temper. And at last they came down to the present 
 — to the very hour they lived in, and laughingly 
 wondered at the intimacy that had grown up be- 
 tween them. " Only twelve days to-morrow since 
 we first met," said Lucy, and her colour rose as she 
 said it, " and here we are talking away as if — as 
 if "
 
 THE PICNIC ON HOLY ISLAND. 65 
 
 "As if what?" cried he, only by an effort sup- 
 pressing her name as it rose to his lips. 
 
 " As if we knew each other for years. To me it 
 seems the strangest thing in the world — I who have 
 never had friendships or companionships. To you, I 
 have no doubt, it is common enough." 
 
 " But it is not," cried he, eagerly. " Such fortune 
 never befell me before. I have gone a good deal 
 into life — seen scores of people in country-houses 
 and the like; but I never met any one before I 
 could speak to of myself, — I mean, that I had 
 courage to tell — not that exactly — but that I wanted 
 them to know I wasn't so bad a fellow — so reckless 
 or so heartless as people thought me." 
 
 " And is that the character you bear ? " said she, 
 with, though not visible to him, a faint smile on her 
 mouth. 
 
 " I think it's what my family would say of me, — I 
 mean now, for once on a time I was a favourite at 
 home." 
 
 " And why are you not still ? " 
 
 " Because I was extravagant ; because I went into 
 debt ; because I got very easily into scrapes, and 
 very badly out of them — not dishonourably, mind ; 
 the scrapes I speak of were money troubles, and 
 they brought me into collision with my governor. 
 That was how it came about I was sent over here. 
 
 VOL. I. E
 
 66 SIR BROOK FOSSBROOKE. 
 
 They meant as a punishment what has turned out 
 the greatest happiness of my life." 
 
 " How cold the water is," said Lucy, as, taking off 
 her glove, she suffered her hand to dip in the water 
 beside the boat. 
 
 "Deliciously cold," said he, as, plunging in his 
 hand, he managed, as though by accident, to touch 
 hers. She drew it rapidly away, however, and then, 
 to prevent the conversation returning to its former 
 channel, said aloud, " What are you laughing over so 
 heartily, Sir Brook ? You and Tom appear to have 
 fallen upon a mine of drollery. Do share it with 
 us." 
 
 " You shall hear it all one of these days, Lucy. 
 Jog the Doctor's arm now and wake him up, for I 
 see the lights at the boat-house, and we shall soon 
 be on shore." 
 
 " And sorry I am for it," muttered Trafford, in a 
 whisper : " I wish this night could be drawn out to 
 years."
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 WAITING ON". 
 
 On the sixth day after Dr Lendrick's arrival in Dub- 
 lin — a fruitless journey so far as any hope of recon- 
 ciliation was concerned — he resolved to return home. 
 His friend Beattie, however, induced him to delay 
 his departure to the next day, clinging to some small 
 hope from a few words that had dropped from Sir 
 William on that same morning. "Let me see you 
 to-night. Doctor ; I have a note to show you which I 
 could not to-day with all these people about me." 
 Now the people in question resolved themselves into 
 one person. Lady Lendrick, who indeed bustled into 
 the room and out of it, slammed doors and upset 
 chairs in a fashion that might well have excused the 
 exaggeration that converted her into a noun of multi- 
 tude. A very warm altercation had occurred, too, in 
 the Doctor's presence with reference to some letter 
 from India, which Lady Lendrick was urging Sir 
 William to reply to, but which he firmly declared he 
 would not answer.
 
 68 SIR BROOK FOSSBROOKE. 
 
 "How I am to treat a man subject to such attacks 
 of temper, so easily provoked, and so incessantly- 
 irritated, is not clear to me. At all events I will see 
 him to-night, and hear what he has to say to me. I 
 am sure it has no concern with this letter from India." 
 With these words Beattie induced his friend to defer 
 his journey for another day. 
 
 It was a long and anxious day to poor Lendrick. 
 It was not alone that he had to suffer the bitter dis- 
 appointment of all his hopes of being received by his 
 father and admitted to some gleam of future favour, 
 but he had discovered that certain debts which he 
 had believed long settled by the Judge were still 
 outstanding against him. Lady Lendrick having in- 
 terfered to prevent their payment, while she assured 
 the creditors that if they had patience Dr Lendrick 
 would one day or other be in a position to acquit them. 
 Between two and three thousand pounds thus hung 
 over him of indebtedness above all his calculations, 
 and equally above all his ability to meet. 
 
 "We thought you knew all this, Dr Lendrick," 
 said Mr Hack, Sir William's agent ; " we imagined 
 you were a party to the arrangement, understanding 
 that you were reluctant to bring these debts under 
 the Chief Baron's eyes, being moneys lent to your 
 wife's relations." 
 
 " I believed that they were paid," was all his reply, 
 for the story was a painful one of trust betrayed and
 
 WAITING ON. 69 
 
 confidence abused, and lie did not desire to revive it. 
 He had often been told that his step-mother wsls the 
 real obstacle to all hope of reconciliation with his 
 father, but that she had pushed her enmity to him 
 to the extent of his ruin was more than he was pre- 
 pared for. They had never met, but at one time 
 letters had frequently passed between them. Hers 
 were marvels of good wishes and kind intentions, 
 dashed with certain melancholy reflections over some 
 shadowy unknown something which had been the 
 cause of his estrangement from his father, but which 
 time and endurance might not impossibly diminish 
 the bitterness of, though with very little hope of 
 leading to a more amicable relation. She would as- 
 sume, besides, occasionally a kind of companionship 
 in sorrow, and, as though the confession had burst 
 from her unawares, avow that Sir William's temper 
 was more than human nature was called upon to sub- 
 mit to, and that years only added to those violent 
 outbursts of passion which made the existence of all 
 around him a perpetual martyrdom. These always 
 wound up with some sweet congratulations on 
 "Tom's good fortune in his life of peaceful re- 
 tirement," and the " tranquil pleasures of that 
 charming spot of which every one tells me such 
 wonders, and which the hope of visiting is one 
 of my most entrancing day-dreams." We give the 
 passage textually, because it occurred without a
 
 70 SIR BROOK FOSSBROOKE. 
 
 change of a word thus in no less than five difierent 
 letters. 
 
 This formal repetition of a phrase, and certain mis- 
 takes she made about the names of his children, first 
 opened Lendrick's eyes as to the sincerity and affec- 
 tion of his correspondent, for he was the least sus- 
 picious of men, and regarded distrust as a disgrace 
 to him who entertained it. 
 
 Over all these things now did he ponder during 
 this long dreary day. He did not like to go out lest 
 he should meet old acquaintances and be interrogated 
 about his father, of whom he knew less than almost 
 every one. He shunned the tone of compassionate in- 
 terest men met him with, and he dreaded even the old 
 faces that reminded him of the past. He could not 
 read : he tried, but could not. After a few minutes 
 he found that his thoughts wandered off from the book 
 and centred on his own concerns, till his head ached 
 with the weary round of those difficulties which came 
 ever back, and back, and back again undiminished, 
 unrelieved, and unsolved. The embarrassments of 
 life are not, like chess problems, to be resolved by a 
 skilful combination : they are to be encountered by 
 temper, by patience, by daring, at one time ; by sub- 
 mission at another ; by a careful consideration of a 
 man's own powers, and by a clear-sighted estimate of 
 his neighbours ; and all these exercised not before- 
 hand, nor in retirement, but on the very field itself
 
 WAITING ON. 71 
 
 where tlie conflict is raging and the fight at its 
 hottest. 
 
 It was late at night when Beattie returned home, 
 and entered the study where Lendrick sat awaiting 
 him. " I am very late, Tom," said he, as he threw 
 himself into an arm-chair, like one fatigued and ex- 
 hausted ; " but it was impossible to get away. Never 
 in all my life have I seen him so full of anecdote, so 
 abounding in pleasant recollections, so ready-witted, 
 and so brilliant. I declare to you that if I could but 
 recite the things he said, or give them even with a 
 faint semblance of the way he told them, it would be 
 the most amusing page of bygone Irish history. It 
 was a grand review of all the celebrated men whom 
 he remembered in his youth, from the eccentric Lord 
 Bristol, the Bishop of Down, to O'Connell and Shiel. 
 Nor did his own self-estimate, high as it was, make 
 the picture in which he figured less striking, nor less 
 memorable his concluding words, as he said, ' These 
 fellows are all in history, Beattie — every man of 
 them. There, are statues to them in our highways, 
 and men visit the spots that gave them birth ; and 
 here am I, second to none of them. Trinity College 
 and the Four Courts will tell you if I speak in vanity ; 
 and here am I ; and the only question about me is, 
 when I intend to vacate the bench, when it will be 
 my good pleasure to resign — they are not particular 
 which — my judgeship or my life. But, sir, I mean
 
 72 SIR BEOOK FOSSBROOKE. 
 
 not to do either ; I mean to live and protest against 
 the inferiority of the men around me, and the ingrat- 
 itude of the country that does not know how to ap- 
 preciate the one man of eminence it possesses/ I 
 assure you, Tom, vain and insolent as the speech was, 
 as I listened I thought it was neither. There was a 
 haughty dignity about him, to which his noble head 
 and his deep sonorous voice and his commanding 
 look lent effect that overcame all thought of attri- 
 buting to such a man any over-estimate of his 
 powers." 
 
 "And this note that he wished to show you — 
 what was it ? " 
 
 " Oh, the note was a few lines written in an ad- 
 joining room by Balfour, the Viceroy's secretary. It 
 seems that his Excellency, finding all other seduc- 
 tions fail, thought of approaching your father through 
 you." 
 
 " Through me ! It was a bright inspiration." 
 
 " Yes ; he sent Balfour to ask if the Chief Baron 
 would feel gratified by the post of Hospital Inspector 
 at the Cape being offered to you. It is worth eight 
 hundred a-year, and a house." 
 
 " Well, what answer did he give ? " asked Lendrick, 
 eagerly. 
 
 "He directed Balfom% who only saw Lady Len- 
 drick, to reduce the proposal to writing. I don't fancy 
 that the accomplished young gentleman exactly liked
 
 WAITING ON. 73 
 
 the task, but he did not care to refuse, and so he sat 
 down and wrote one of the worst notes I ever read." 
 
 " Worst — in what way ? " 
 
 " In every way. It was scarcely intelligible, with- 
 out a previous knowledge of its contents, and so 
 worded as to imply that when the Chief Baron had 
 acceded to the proposal, he had so bound himself in 
 gratitude to the Government that all honourable 
 retreat was closed to him. I wish you saw your 
 father's face when he read it. ' Beattie," said he, ' I 
 have no right to say Tom must refuse this offer ; but 
 if he should do so, I will make the document you 
 see there be read in the House, and my name is not 
 William Lendrick if it do not cost them more than 
 they are prepared for. Go now and consult your 
 friend; it was so he called you. If his wants are 
 such that this place is of consequence to him, let him 
 accept it. I shall not ask his reasons for whatever 
 course he may take. My reply is already written, 
 and to his Excellency in person.' This he said in a 
 way to imply that its tone was one not remarkable 
 for conciliation or courtesy. 
 
 " I thought the opportunity a favourable one to 
 say that you were in town at the moment, that the 
 accounts of his illness had brought you up, and that 
 you were staying at my house. 
 
 " ' The sooner will you be able to communicate 
 with him, sir,' said he, haughtily."
 
 74 SIR BROOK FOSSBROOKE. 
 
 " No more than that ! " 
 
 " No more, except that he added, ' Eememher, sir, 
 his acceptance or his refusal is to be his own act, 
 not to be intimated in any way to me, nor to come 
 through me/ " 
 
 " This is unnecessary harshness," said Lendrick, 
 with a quivering lip ; " there was no need to tell me 
 how estranged we are from each other." 
 
 " I fancied I could detect a struggle with himself 
 in all his sternness ; and his hand trembled when I 
 took it to say ' good-bye/ I was going to ask if you 
 might not be permitted to see him, even for a brief 
 moment ; but I was afraid, lest in refusing he might 
 make a reconciliation still more remote, and so I 
 merely said, ' May I leave you those miniatures I 
 showed you a few days ago ? ' His answer was, ' You 
 may leave them, sir/ 
 
 " As I came down to the hall I met Lady Lendrick. 
 She was in evening dress, going out, but had evidently 
 waited to catch me as I passed. 
 
 " ' You find the Chief much better, don't you ? ' 
 asked she. I bowed and assented. ' And he will be 
 better still,' added she, ' when all these anxieties are 
 over.' She saw that I did not or would not appre- 
 hend her meaning, and added, ' I mean about this 
 resignation, which, of course, you will advise him to. 
 The Government are really behaving so very well, so 
 liberal, and withal so delicate. If they had been our
 
 WAITING ON. 75 
 
 own people I doubt if they would liave shown any- 
 thing like the same generosity.' 
 
 " ' I have heard of nothing but the offer to Dr 
 Lendrick/ said I. 
 
 " She seemed confused, and moved on ; and then 
 recovering herself, said, ' And a most handsome offer 
 it is. I hope he thinks so.' 
 
 " With this we parted, and I believe now I have 
 told you almost word for word everything that oc- 
 curred concerning you." 
 
 • ' And what do yoib say to all this, Beattie ? " asked 
 Lendrick, in a half sad tone. 
 
 " I say that if in your place, Tom, I would accept. 
 It may be that the Chief Baron will interpose and 
 say, Don't go ; or it may be that your readiness to 
 work for your bread should conciliate him ; he has 
 long had the impression that you are indisposed to 
 exertion, and too fond of your own ease." 
 
 " I know it — I know it ; Lady Lendrick has inti- 
 mated as much to me." 
 
 " At all events, you can make no mistake in enter- 
 taining the project, and certainly the offer is not to 
 be despised." 
 
 " It is of him, and of him alone, I am thinking, 
 Beattie. If he would let me see him, admit me once 
 more on my old terms of affection, I would go any- 
 where, do anything that he counselled. Try, my 
 dear friend, to bring this about ; do your best for me.
 
 76 SIK BROOK FOSSBROOKE. 
 
 and reinemlDer I will subscribe to any terms, submit 
 to anything, if he will only be reconciled to me." 
 
 " It will be hard if we cannot manage this some- 
 how," said Beattie ; " but now let us to bed. It is 
 past two o'clock. Good-night, Tom ; sleep well, and 
 don't dream of the Cape or the Caffres."
 
 CHAPTEK YIL 
 
 THE FOUNTAIN OF HONOUE. 
 
 That ancient and incongruous pile whicli goes by the 
 name of the Castle in Dublin, and to which Irishmen 
 very generally look as the well from which aU hon- 
 ours and places flow, is not remarkable for either the 
 splendour or space it affords to the inmates beneath 
 its roof. Upheld by a great prestige perhaps, as in 
 the case of certain distinguished people, who affect a 
 humble exterior and very simple belongings, it may 
 deem that its own transcendent importance has no 
 need of accessories. Certainly the ugliness of its 
 outside is in no way unbalanced by the meanness 
 within ; and even the very highest of those which 
 claim its hospitality are lodged in no princely 
 fashion. 
 
 In a comer of the old red brick quadrangle, to the 
 right of the state-entrance, in a small room whose 
 two narrow windows looked into a lane, sat a very 
 well-dressed young gentleman at a writing-table.
 
 78 SIR BROOK FOSSBROOKE. 
 
 Short and disposed to roundness in face as well as 
 figure, Mr Cholmondely Balfour scarcely responded 
 in appearance to his imposing name. Nature had 
 not been as bountiful, perhaps, as Fortune ; for while 
 he was rich, well-born, and considerably gifted in 
 abilities, his features were unmistakably common and 
 vulgar, and all the aids of dress could not atone for 
 the meanness in his general look. Had he simply 
 accepted his image as a thing to be quietly borne and 
 submitted to, the case might not have been so very 
 bad; but he took it as something to be corrected, 
 changed, and ameliorated, and the result was a per- 
 petual struggle to make the most ordinary traits and 
 commonplace features appear the impress of one on 
 whom Nature had written gentleman. It would 
 have been no easy task to have imposed on him in a 
 question of his duty. He was the private secretary 
 of the Yiceroy, who was his maternal uncle. It 
 would have been a tough task to have misled or de- 
 ceived him in any matter open to his intelligence to 
 examine ; but upon this theme, there was not the 
 inventor of a hair- wash, a skin-paste, a whisker-dye, 
 or a pearl-powder, that might not have led him cap- 
 tive. A bishop might have found difficulty in getting 
 audience of him — a barber might have entered unan- 
 nounced ; and while the lieutenant of a county sat 
 waiting in the antechamber, the tailor, with a new 
 waistcoat pattern, walked boldly into the august pre-
 
 THE FOUNTAIN OF HONOUR. 79 
 
 sence. Entering life by that petite porte of politics, 
 an Irish office, he had conceived a very humble esti- 
 mate of the people amongst whom he was placed. 
 Keo^ardinoj his extradition from Whitehall and its 
 precincts as a sort of probationary banishment, he 
 felt, however, its necessity; and as naval men are 
 accredited with two years of service for every one 
 year on the coast of Africa, Mr Balfour was aware 
 that a grateful Government could equally recognise 
 the devotion of him who gave some of the years of 
 his youth to the Fernando Po of statecraft. 
 
 This impression being rarely personal in its conse- 
 quences was not of much moment, but it was con- 
 joined with a more serious error, which was to 
 imagine that all rule and governance in Ireland 
 should be carried on with a Machiavellian subtlety. 
 The people, he had heard, were quick-witted ; he 
 must therefore out-manoeuvre them. Jobbery had 
 been, he was told, the ruin of Ireland; he would 
 show its inefficiency by the superior skill with which 
 he could wield its weapon. To be sure his office was 
 a very minor one, its influence very restricted, but 
 Mr Balfour was ambitious ; he was a Viceroy's 
 nephew ; he had sat four months in the House, from 
 which he had been turned out on a petition. He had 
 therefore social advantages to build on, abilities to 
 display, and wrongs to avenge ; and as a man too 
 late for the train speculates during the day how fiir
 
 80 SIR BROOK FOSSBROOKE. 
 
 on his road he might have been by this time or by 
 that, so did Mr Balfour continually keep reminding 
 himself how, but for that confounded petition, he 
 might now have been a Treasury this or a Board of 
 Trade that — a corporal, in fact, in that great army 
 whose commissioned officers are amongst the highest 
 in Europe. 
 
 Let us now present him to our reader, as he lay 
 back in his chair, and by a hand-bell summoned his 
 messenger. 
 
 " I say, Watkins, when Clancy calls about those 
 trousers show him in, and send some one over to the 
 packet-office about the phosphorus blacking ; you 
 know we are on the last jar of it. If the Solicitor- 
 General should come " 
 
 " He is here, sir ; he has been waiting these twenty 
 minutes. I told him you were with his Excellency." 
 
 " So I was — so I always am," said he, throwing a 
 half-smoked cigar into the fire. '' Admit him." 
 
 A pale, careworn, anxious-looking man, whose face 
 was not without traces of annoyance at the length of 
 time he had been kept waiting, now^ entered and sat 
 down. 
 
 " Just where we were yesterday, Pemberton," said 
 Balfour, as he arose and stood with his back to the 
 fire, the tails of his gorgeous dressing-gown hanging 
 over his arms. "Intractable as he ever was; he 
 won't die, and he won't resign."
 
 THE FOUNTAIN OF HONOUR. 81 
 
 " His friends say lie is perfectly willing to resign 
 if you agree to liis terms." 
 
 " That may be possible ; the question is, What are 
 his terms ? Have you a precedent of a Chief Baron 
 being raised to the peerage ?" 
 
 " It's not, as I understand, the peerage he insists 
 on ; he inclines to a moneyed arrangement." 
 
 " We are too poor, Pemberton, — we are too poor. 
 There's a deep gap in our customs this quarter. It's 
 reduction we must think of, not outlay." 
 
 " If the changes are to be made," said the other, 
 with a tone of impatience, " I certainly ought to be 
 told at once, or I shall have no time left for my 
 canvass." 
 
 '' An Irish borough, Pemberton — an Irish borough 
 requires so little," said Balfour, with a compassionate 
 smile. 
 
 " Such is not the opinion over here, sir," said Pem- 
 berton, stiffly; "and I might even suggest some 
 caution in saying it." 
 
 '* Caution is the badge of all our tribe," said Bal- 
 four, with a burlesque gra^dty. " By the way, Pem- 
 berton, his Excellency is greatly disappointed at the 
 issue of these Cork trials ; why didn't you hang these 
 fellows?" 
 
 " Juries can no more be coerced here than in Eng- 
 land ; they brought them in not guilty." 
 
 "We know aU that, and we ask you why? 
 VOL. I. F
 
 82 SIE BROOK FOSSBEOOKE. 
 
 There certainly was little room for doubt in the 
 evidence." 
 
 " When you have lived longer in Ireland, Mr Bal- 
 four, you will learn that there are other considera- 
 tions in a trial than the testimony of the witnesses." 
 
 " That's exactly what I said to his Excellency; and 
 I remarked. If Pemberton comes into the House, he 
 must prepare for a sharp attack about these trials." 
 
 " And it is exactly to ascertain if I am to enter 
 Parliament that I have come here to-day," said the 
 other, angrily. 
 
 " Bring me the grateful tidings that the Lord Chief 
 Baron has joined his illustrious predecessors in that 
 distinguished court, I'll answer you in five minutes." 
 
 " Beattie declares he is better this morning. He 
 says that he has in aU probability years of life before 
 him." 
 
 " There's nothing so hard to kill as a judge, except 
 it be an archbishop. I believe a sedentary life does 
 it ; they say if a feUow will sit stiU and never move 
 he may live to any age." 
 
 Pemberton took an impatient turn up and down 
 the room, and then wheeling about directly in front 
 of Balfour, said — " If his Excellency knew perhaps 
 that I do not want the House of Commons " 
 
 " Not want the House — not wish to be in Parlia- 
 ment?" 
 
 *' Certainly not. If I enter the House it is as a
 
 THE FOUNTAIN OF HONOUR. 83 
 
 law-officer of tlie Crown ; personally, it is no object 
 to me." 
 
 " I'll not tell him that, Pem. I'll keep your secret 
 safe, for I tell you frankly it would ruin you to re- 
 veal it." 
 
 " It's no secret, sir ; you may proclaim it — you 
 may publish it in the ' Gazette.' But really we are 
 wasting much valuable time here. It is now two 
 o'clock, and I must go down to Court. I have only 
 to say that if no arrangement be come to before this 
 
 time to-morrow " He stopped short. Another 
 
 word might have committed him, but he pulled up 
 in time. 
 
 " WeU, what then ? " asked Balfour, with a half 
 smile. 
 
 " I have heard you pride yourself, Mr Balfour," 
 said the other, recovering, "on your skiU in nice 
 negotiation ; why not try what you could do with 
 the Chief Baron?" 
 
 " Are there women in the family 1 " said Balfour, 
 caressing his mustache. 
 
 " No ; only his wife." 
 
 " I've seen her," said he, contemptuously. 
 
 " He quarrelled with his only son, and has not 
 spoken to him, I believe, for nigh thirty years, and 
 the poor fellow is struggling on as a country doctor 
 somewhere in the west." 
 
 " What if we were to propose to do something for
 
 84 SIR BROOK FOSSBROOKE. 
 
 Mm ? Men are often not averse to see those assisted 
 ■whom their own pride refuses to help." 
 
 "I scarcely suspect you'll acquire his gratitude 
 that way." 
 
 " We don't want his gratitude, we want his place. 
 I declare I think the idea a good one. There's a 
 thing now at the Cape, an inspectorship of some- 
 thing — Hottentots or hospitals, I forget which. His 
 Excellency asked to have the gift of it ; what if we 
 were to appoint this man ? " 
 
 " Make the crier of his Court a Commissioner in 
 Chancery, and Baron Lendrick will be more obliged 
 to you," said Pemberton, with a sneer. " He is about 
 the least forgiving man I ever knew or heard of." 
 
 " Where is this son of his to be found ? " 
 
 " I saw him yesterday walking with Dr Beattie. 
 I have no doubt Beattie knows his address. But let 
 me warn you once more against the inutility of the 
 step you would take. I doubt if the old Judge would 
 as much as thank you." 
 
 Balfour turned round to the glass and smiled sweet- 
 ly at himself, as though to say that he had heard of 
 some one who knew how to make these negotiations 
 successful — a fellow of infinite readiness, a clever 
 fellow, but withal one whose good looks and distin- 
 guished air left even his talents in the background. 
 
 " I think I'll call and see the Chief Baron myself," 
 said he. " His Excellency sends twice a-day to in-
 
 THE FOUNTAIN OF HONOUR. 85 
 
 quire, and I'll take the opportunity to make him a 
 visit — that is, if he will receive me." 
 
 " It is doubtful. At all events, let me give you 
 one hint for your guidance. Neither let drop Mr 
 Attorney's name nor mine in your conversation ; 
 avoid the mention of any one whose career might 
 be influenced by the Baron's retirement ; and talk 
 of him less as a human being than as an institution 
 that is destined to endure as long as the British 
 constitution." 
 
 " I wish it was a woman — if it was only a woman 
 I had to deal with, the whole affair might be deemed 
 settled." 
 
 " If you should be able to do anything before the 
 mail goes out to-night, perhaps you will inform me," 
 said Pemberton, as he bowed and left the room. 
 " And these are the men they send over here to 
 administer the country!" muttered he, as he de- 
 scended the stairs — " such are the intelligences that 
 are to rule Ireland ! Was it Voltaire who said there 
 was nothing so inscrutable in all the ways of Provi- 
 dence as the miserable smallness of those creatures 
 to whom the destiny of nations was committed ? " 
 
 Euminating over this, he hastened on to a nisi 
 prius case.
 
 CHAPTEE YIII. 
 
 A PUZZLING COMMISSION. 
 
 As Colonel Cave re-entered his quarters after morn- 
 ing parade in the Eoyal Barracks of Dublin, he found 
 the following letter, which the post had just delivered. 
 It was headed, " Strictly Private," with three dashes 
 under the words : — 
 
 " Holt-Trafford. 
 
 " My dear Colonel Cave, — Sir Hugh is confined 
 to bed with a severe attack of gout — the doctors call 
 it flying gout. He suffers greatly, and his nerves are 
 in a state of irritation that makes all attempt at writ- 
 ing impossible. This will be my apology for obtrud- 
 ing upon you, though perhaps the cause in which I 
 write might serve for excuse. We are in the deepest 
 anxiety about Lionel. You are already aware how 
 heavily his extravagance has cost us. His play- 
 debts amounted to above ten thousand pounds, and 
 all the cleverness of Mr Joel has not been able to
 
 A PUZZLING COMMISSION. 87 
 
 compromise with the tradespeople for less than as 
 much more ; nor are we yet done with demands 
 from various quarters. It is not, however, of these 
 that I desire to speak. Your kind offer to take him 
 into your own regiment, and exercise the watchful 
 supervision of a parent, has relieved us of much 
 anxiety, and his own sincere affection for you is the 
 strongest assurance we can have that the step has 
 been a wise one. Our present uneasiness has, how- 
 ever, a deeper source than mere pecuniary embarrass- 
 ment. The boy — he is very little more than a boy 
 in years — has fallen in love, and gravely writes to 
 his father for consent that he may marry. I assure 
 you the shock brought back all Sir Hugh's most 
 severe symptoms ; and his left eye was attacked 
 with an inflammation such as Dr Gole says he never 
 saw equalled. So far as the incoherency of his letter 
 will permit us to guess, the girl is a person in a very 
 humble condition of life, the daughter of a country 
 doctor, of course without family or fortune. That he 
 made her acquaintance by an accident, as he informs 
 us, is also a reason to suppose that they are not 
 people in society. The name, as well as I can de- 
 cipher it, is Lendrich or Hendrich — neither very dis- 
 tinguished ! 
 
 "Now, my dear Colonel, even to a second son, 
 such an alliance would be perfectly intolerable — 
 totally at variance with all his fatlier's plans for
 
 88 SIR BROOK FOSSBROOKE. 
 
 him, and inconsistent with the station he should 
 occupy. But there are other considerations — too 
 sad ones, too melancholy indeed to be spoken of, 
 except where the best interests of a family are to 
 be regarded, which press upon us here. The last 
 accounts of George from Madeira leave us scarcely 
 a hope. The climate, from which so much was ex- 
 pected, has done nothing. The season has been un- 
 happily most severe, and the doctors agree in declar- 
 ing that the malady has not yielded in any respect. 
 You will see, therefore, what a change any day may 
 accomplish in Lionel's prospects, and how doubly 
 important it is that he should contract no ties in- 
 consistent with a station of no mean importance. 
 Not that these considerations would w^eigh with 
 Lionel in the least : he was always headstrong, rash, 
 and self-willed ; and if he were, or fancied that he 
 were, bound in honour to do a thing, I know well 
 that all persuasions would be unavailing to prevent 
 him. I cannot believe, however, that matters can 
 have gone so far here. This acqu-aintanceship must 
 be of the very shortest ; and however designing and 
 crafty such people may be, there will surely be some 
 means of showing them that their designs are im- 
 practicable, and of a nature only to bring disappoint- 
 ment and disgrace upon themselves. That Sir Hugh 
 would give his consent is totally out of the question 
 — a thing not to be thought of for a moment ; indeed
 
 A PUZZLING COMMISSION. 89 
 
 I may tell you in confidence that liis first thought 
 on reading L/s letter was to carry out a project to 
 which George had already consented, and b}^ which 
 the entail should be cut off, and our third son, Harry, 
 in that case would inherit. This will show you to 
 what extent his indignation would carry him. 
 
 " Now what is to be done ? for, really, it is but 
 time lost in deploring when prompt action alone can 
 save us. Do you know, or do you know any one who 
 does know, these Hendrichs or Lendrichs — who are 
 they, what are they? Are they people to whom I 
 could write myself ? or are they in that rank in life 
 which would enable us to make some sort of com- 
 promise ? Again, could you in any way obtain L/s 
 confidence and make him open his heart to you first .? 
 This is the more essential, because the moment he 
 hears of anything like coercion or pressure his whole 
 spirit will rise in resistance, and he will be totally 
 unmanageable. You have perhaps more influence 
 over him than any one else, and even your influence 
 he would resent if he suspected any dominance. 
 
 " I am madly impatient to hear what you will 
 suggest. Will it be to see these people? to reason 
 with them ? to explain to them the fruitlessness of 
 what they are doing ? Will it be to talk to the girl 
 herself? 
 
 " My first thought was to send for Lionel, as his 
 father was so ill, but on consideration I felt that a
 
 90 SIR BROOK FOSSBROOKE. 
 
 meeting between them might be the thing of all others 
 to be avoided. Indeed, in Sir Hugh's present temper, 
 I dare not think of the consequences. 
 
 '' Might it be advisable to get Lionel attached to 
 some foreign station? If so, I am sure I could 
 manage it— only, would he go ? there's the question 
 — would he go ? I am writing in such distress of 
 mind, and so hurriedly, too, that I reaUy do not know 
 what I have set down, and what I have omitted. I 
 trust, however, there is enough of this sad case before 
 you to enable you to counsel me, or, what is much 
 better, act for me. I wish I could send you L.'s 
 letter; but Sir Hugh has put it away, and I can- 
 not lay my hand on it. Its purport, however, was 
 to obtain authority from us to approach this girl's 
 relations as a suitor, and to show that his inten- 
 tions were known to and concurred in by his family. 
 The only gleam of hope in the epistle was his saying, 
 ' I have not the slightest reason to believe she would 
 accept me, but the ajjproval of my friends will cer- 
 tainly give me the best chance.' 
 
 " Now, my dear Colonel, compassionate my anxiety, 
 and write to me at once -^something — anything. 
 Write such a letter as Sir Hugh may see ; and if you 
 have anything secret or confidential, enclose it as a 
 separate slip. Was it not unfortunate that we refused 
 that Indian appointment for him ? All this misery 
 might have been averted. You may imagine how
 
 A PUZZLING COMMISSION. 91 
 
 Sir Hugh feels this conduct the more bitterly, 
 coming, as I may say, on the back of all his late 
 indiscretions. 
 
 " Eemember, finally, happen what may, this project 
 must not go on. It is a question of the boy's whole 
 future and life. To defy his father is to disinherit 
 himself ; and it is not impossible that this might be 
 the most effectual argument you could employ with 
 these XDCople who now seek to entangle him. 
 
 " I have certainly no reason to love Ireland. It 
 was there that my cousin Cornwallis married that 
 dreadful creature who is now suing him for cruelty, 
 and exposing the family throughout England. 
 
 " Sir Hugh gave directions last week about lodging 
 the purchase-money for his company, but he wrote a 
 few lines to Cox's last night — to what purport I can- 
 not say — not impossibly to countermand it. What 
 affliction all this is ! " 
 
 As Colonel Cave read over this letter for a second 
 time, he was not without misgivings about the even 
 small share to which he had contributed in this diffi- 
 cultj^ It was evidently during the short leave he 
 had granted that this acquaintanceship had been 
 formed ; and Fossbrooke's companionship was the 
 very last thing in the world to deter a young and 
 ardent fellow from anything high-flown or romantic. 
 " I ought never to have thrown them together," nmt-
 
 92 SIK BROOK FOSSBEOOKE. 
 
 tered he, as lie walked his room in doubt and de- 
 liberation. 
 
 He rang his bell and sent for the Adjutant. 
 "Where's Trafford?" asked he. 
 
 ''You gave him three days' leave yesterday, sir. 
 He's gone down to that fishing village where he went 
 before." 
 
 " Confound the place ! Send for him at once — 
 telegraph. No — let us see — his leave is up to- 
 morrow?" 
 
 " The next day at ten he was to report." 
 
 " His father is ill — an attack of gout," muttered the 
 Colonel, to give some colour to his agitated manner. 
 " But it is better, perhaps, not to alarm him. The 
 seizure seems passing off." 
 
 " He said something about asking for a longer term ; 
 he wants a fortnight, I think. The season is just 
 beginning now." 
 
 "He shall not have it, sir. Take good care to 
 warn him not to apply. It will breed discontent 
 in the regiment to see a young fellow who has not 
 been a year with us obtain a leave every ten or 
 fifteen days." 
 
 " If it were any other than Trafford, there would 
 be plenty of grumbling. But he is such a favourite !" 
 
 '' I don't know that a worse accident could befall 
 any man. Many a fine feUow has been taught selfish- 
 ness by the over-estimate others have formed of him.
 
 A PUZZLING COMMISSION. 93 
 
 See that you keep him to his duty, and that he is to 
 look for no favouritism." 
 
 The Colonel did not well know why he said this, 
 nor did he stop to think what might come of it. It 
 smacked, to his mind, however, of something prompt, 
 active, and energetic. 
 
 His next move was to write a short note to Lady 
 Trafford, acknowledging hers, and saying that Lionel 
 being absent — he did not add where — nothing could 
 be done till he should see him. " To-morrow — next 
 day at farthest — I will re^Dort progress. I cannot 
 believe the case to be so serious as you suppose : at 
 all events, count upon me." 
 
 "Stay!" cried he to the Adjutant, who stood in 
 the window awaiting further instructions ; " on second 
 thoughts, do telegraph. Say, ' Eeturn at once.' This 
 will prepare him for something."
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 A BREAKFAST AT THE VICAEAGE. 
 
 On the clay after the picnic Sir Brook went by in- 
 vitation to breakfast with the Vicar. 
 
 "When a man asks yon to dinner," said Foss- 
 brooke, " he generally wants you to talk ; when he 
 asks you to breakfast, he wants to talk to you." 
 
 Whatever be the truth of this adage generally, it 
 certainly had its application in the present case. 
 The Vicar wanted very much to talk to Sir Brook. 
 
 As they sat, therefore, over their coffee and de- 
 villed kidneys, chatting over the late excursion, and 
 hinting at another, the Vicar suddenly said, " By 
 the way, I want you to tell me something of the 
 young fellow who was one of us yesterday. Tobin, 
 our doctor here, who is a perfect commission-agent 
 for scandal, says he is the greatest scamp going; 
 that about eight or ten months ago the ' Times ' was 
 full of his exploits in bankruptcy; that his liabilities 
 were tens of thousands — assets nil. In a word, that
 
 A BREAKFAST AT THE VICAEAGE. 95 
 
 notwithstanding his frank, honest look, and his nn- 
 affected manner, he is the most accomplished scape- 
 grace of the age." 
 
 " And how much of this do you believe ? " asked 
 Sir Brook, as he helped himself to coffee. 
 
 " That is not so easy to reply to ; but I tell you, if 
 you ask me, that I'd rather not believe one word of it." 
 
 " ]N"or need you. His Colonel told me something 
 about the young fellow's difficulties ; he himself re- 
 lated the rest. He went most recklessly into debt; 
 betted largely on races, and lost; lent freely, and lost; 
 raised at ruinous interest, and renewed at still more 
 ruinous : but his father has paid every shilling of it 
 out of that fortune which one day was to have come 
 to him, so that Lionel's thirty thousand pounds is 
 now about eight thousand. I have put the whole 
 story into the fewest possible words, but that's the 
 substance of it." 
 
 " And has it cured him of extravagance 1" 
 
 " Of course it has not. How should it ? You 
 have lived some more years in the world than he 
 has, and / a good many more than you, and will you 
 tell me that time has cured either of us of any of 
 our old shortcomings? Non sum qualis eram means, 
 I can't be as wild as I nsed to be." 
 
 " No, no ; I won't agree to that. I protest most 
 strongly against the doctrine. Many men are wiser 
 through experience, and consequently better."
 
 96 SIR BROOK FOSSBROOKE. 
 
 " I sincerely believe I knew the world better at 
 four-and- twenty than I know it now. The reason 
 why we are less often deceived in after than in early 
 life is not that we are more crafty or more keen- 
 eyed. It is simply because we risk less. Let us 
 hazard as much at sixty as we once did at six-and- 
 twenty, and we'll lose as heavily." 
 
 The Vicar paused a few moments over the other's 
 words, and then said, " To come back to this young 
 man, I half suspect he has formed an attachment to 
 Lucy, and that he is doing his utmost to succeed in 
 her favour.'" 
 
 "And is there anything wrong in that, Doctor?" 
 
 " 'Not positively wrong ; but there is what may 
 lead to a great deal of unhappiness. Who is to say 
 how Trafford's family would like the connection? 
 Who is to answer for Lendrick's approval of Traf- 
 ford?" 
 
 " You induce me to make a confidence I have no 
 right to impart; but I rely so implicitly on your dis- 
 cretion. I will tell you what was intrusted to me as 
 a secret : Trafford has already written to his father 
 to ask his consent." 
 
 " Without speaking to Lendrick ? without even 
 being sure of Lucy's ?" 
 
 "Yes, without knowing anything of either; but 
 on my advice he has first asked his father's permis- 
 sion to pay his addresses to the yoimg lady. His
 
 A BREAKFAST AT THE VICAEAGE. 97 
 
 position with Ms family is peculiar ; he is a younger 
 son, but not exactly as free as most younger sons 
 feel to act for themselves. I cannot now explain 
 this more fully, but it is enough if you understand 
 that he is entirely dependent on his father. When 
 I came to know this, and when I saw that he was 
 becoming desperately in love, I insisted on this ap- 
 peal to his friends before he either entangled Lucy 
 in a promise or even made any declaration himself 
 He showed me the letter before he posted it. It 
 was all I could wish. It is not a very easy task for 
 a young fellow to tell his father he's in love; but he, 
 in the very frankness of his nature, acquitted himself 
 well and manfully." 
 
 " And what answer has he received ?" 
 
 "None as yet. Two posts have passed. He 
 might have heard through either of them; but no 
 letter has come, and he is feverishly uneasy and 
 anxious." 
 
 The Vicar was silent, but a grave motion of his 
 head implied doubt and fear. 
 
 "Yes," said Sir Brook, answering the gesture — 
 " yes, I agree with you. The Traffords are great folk 
 in their own country. Trafford was a strong place 
 in Saxon times. They have pride enough for all this 
 blood, and wealth enough for both pride and blood." 
 
 " They'd find their match in Lendrick, quiet and 
 simple as he seems," said the Vicar. 
 
 VOL. I. G
 
 9B SIK BROOK FOSSBROOKE. 
 
 " Which makes the matter worse. Who is to give 
 way ? Who is to c4der le pas V 
 
 "I am not so sure I should have advised that 
 letter. I am inclined to think I would have coun- 
 selled more time, more consideration. Fathers and 
 mothers are prudently averse to these loves at first 
 sight, and they are merciless in dealing with what 
 they deem a mere passing sentiment." 
 
 " Better that than suffer him to engage the girl's 
 affections, and then learn that he must either desert 
 her or marry her against the feeling of his family. 
 Let us have a stroll in the garden. I have made 
 you one confidence ; I will now make you another." 
 
 They lit their cigars, and strolled out into a long 
 alley fenced on one side by a tall, dense hedge of 
 laurels, and flanked on the other by a low wall 
 over which the view took in the wide reach of 
 the river and the distant mountains of Scariff and 
 Meelick. 
 
 "Was not that where we picnicked yesterday?" 
 asked Sir Brook, pointing to an island in the 
 distance. 
 
 " No ; you cannot see Holy Island from this." 
 
 Sir Brook smoked on for some minutes without a 
 word; at last, with a sort of abruptness, he said, 
 " She was so like her, not only in face and figure, 
 but her manner; the very tone of her voice was like; 
 and then that half-caressing, half-timid way she has
 
 A BREAKFAST AT THE VICARAGE. 99 
 
 in conversation, and, more than all, the sly quiet- 
 ness with which she caps you when you fancy that 
 the smart success is all your own." 
 
 " Of whom are you speaking?" 
 
 " Of another Lucy," said Sir Brook, with a deep 
 melancholy. " Heaven grant that the resemblance 
 follow them not in their lives as in their features ! 
 It was that likeness, however, which first attracted 
 me towards Miss Lendrick. The first moment I saw 
 her it overcame me ; as I grew to know her better it 
 almost confused me, and made me jumble in your 
 hearing things of long ago with the present. Time 
 and space were both forgotten, and I found my mind 
 straying away to scenes in the Himalaya with those 
 I shall never see more. It was thus that, one day 
 carried away by this delusion, I chanced to call her 
 Lucy, and she laughingly begged me not to retract 
 it, but so to call her always." For some minutes he 
 was silent, and then resumed, " I don't know if you 
 ever heard of a Colonel Frank Dillon, who served on 
 Napier's staff in Scinde. Fiery Frank was his nick- 
 name among his comrades, but it only applied to 
 him on the field of battle and with an enemy in 
 front. Then he was indeed fiery — the excitement 
 rose to almost madness, and led him to acts of almost 
 incredible daring. At Meanee he was nearly cut to 
 pieces, and as he lay wounded and to all appearance 
 dying, he received a lance-wound through tlie chest
 
 100 SIE BROOK FOSSBROOKE. 
 
 that the surgeon declared must prove fatal. He 
 lived, however, for eight months after — he lived long 
 enough to reach the Himalayas, where his daughter, 
 an only child, joined him from England. On her 
 way out she became acquainted with a young officer, 
 who was coming out as aide-de-camp to the Gover- 
 nor-General. They were constantly thrown together 
 on the journey, and his attentions to her soon showed 
 the sentiments he had conceived for her. In fact, 
 very soon after Lucy had joined her father. Captain 
 Sewell appeared *in the Hills' to make a formal de- 
 mand of her in marriage. 
 
 "I was there at the time, and I remember well 
 poor Dillon's expression of disappointment after the 
 first meeting with him. His daughter's enthusiastic 
 description of his looks, his manner, his abilities, his 
 qualities generally, had perhaps prepared him for too 
 much. Indeed, Lucy's own intense admiration for 
 the soldier-like character of her father's features as- 
 sisted the mistake, for, as DiUon said, ' There must 
 be a dash of the sabreur in the fellow that will win 
 Lucy.' I came into Dillon's room immediately after 
 the first interview. The instant I caught his eye I 
 read what was going on in his brain. 'Sit down 
 here, Brook,' cried he, ' sit in my chair here,' and he 
 arose painfully as he spoke ; ' I'll show you the man;* 
 with this he hobbled over to a table where his cap 
 lay, and, placing it rakishly on one side of his head,
 
 A BREAKFAST AT THE YICARAGE. 101 
 
 he stuck his eyeglass in one eye, and, with a hand in 
 his trousers-pocket, lounged forward towards where 
 I sat, saying, 'How d'ye do, Colonel? wound doing 
 better, I hope. The breezy climate up here soon set 
 you up.' ' Familiar enough this, sir,' cried Dillon in 
 his own stern voice ; ' but without time to breathe, 
 as it were — before almost I had exchanged a greeting 
 with him — he entered upon the object of his journey. 
 I scarcely heard a word he said ; I knew its purport 
 — I could mark the theme — but no more. It was not 
 the fellow himself that filled my mind; my whole 
 thoughts were upon my daughter, and I went on re- 
 peating to myself, " Good heavens ! is this Lucy's 
 choice ? Am I in a trance ? Is it this contemptible 
 cur (for he was a cur, sir) that has won the affections 
 of my darling, high-hearted, generous girl ? Is the 
 romantic spirit that I have so loved to see in her to 
 bear no better fruit than this ? Does the fellow realise 
 to her mind the hero that fills men's thoughts ?" I 
 was so overcome, so excited, so confused, Brook, 
 that I begged him to leave me for a while, that one 
 of my attacks of pain was coming on, and that I 
 should not be able to converse farther. He said 
 something about trying one of his cheroots — some 
 impertinence or other, I forget what ; but he left me, 
 and I, who never knew a touch of girlish weakness 
 in my life, who when a child had no mood of soft- 
 ness in my nature — I felt the tears trickling along
 
 102 SIR BEOOK FOSSBROOKE. 
 
 my cheeks and my eyes dimmed with them.' My 
 poor friend/' continued Fossbrooke, "could not go 
 on, his emotions mastered him, and he sat with his 
 head buried between his hands and in silence. At 
 last he said, ' She'll not give him ujj, Brook ; I have 
 spoken to her — she actually loves him. Good hea- 
 vens!' he cried, 'how little do we know about our 
 children's hearts ! how far astray are we as to the 
 natures that have grown up beside us, imbibing, as 
 we thought, our hopes, our wishes, and our prejudices ! 
 We awake some day to discover that some other in- 
 fluence has crept in to undo our teachings, and that 
 the fidelity on which we would have staked our lives 
 has changed allegiance.' 
 
 " He talked to me long in this strain, and I saw 
 that the effects of this blow to all his hopes had made 
 themselves deeply felt on his chance of recovery. It 
 only needed a great shock to depress him to make 
 his case hopeless. Within two months after his 
 daughter's arrival he was no more. 
 
 " I became Lucy's guardian. Poor Dillon gave me 
 the entire control over her future fortune, and left 
 me to occupy towards her the place he had himself 
 held. I believe that next to her father I held the 
 best place in her affections — of such affections, I 
 mean, as are accorded to a parent. I was her god- 
 father, and from her earliest infancy she had learned 
 to love me. The reserve, it was positive coldness.
 
 A BREAKFAST AT THE VICARAGE. 103 
 
 with which Dillon had always treated Sewell had 
 caused a certain distance, for the first time in their 
 lives, between the father and daughter. She thought, 
 naturally enough, that her father was unjust ; that, 
 unaccustomed to the new tone of manners which had 
 grown up amongst young men — their greater ease, 
 their less rigid observance of ceremonial, their more 
 liberal self-indulgence — he was unfairly severe upon 
 her lover. She was annoyed, too, that Sewell's at- 
 tempts to conciliate the old man should have turned 
 out such complete failures. But none of these pre- 
 judices extended to me, and she counted much on 
 the good understanding that she expected to find 
 grow up between us. 
 
 " If I could have prevented the marriage I would. 
 I learned many things of the man that I disliked. 
 There is no worse sign of a man than to be at the 
 same time a man of pleasure and friendless. These 
 he was — he was foremost in every plan of amusement 
 and dissipation, and yet none liked him. Vain fel- 
 lows get quizzed for their vanity, and selfish men 
 laughed at for their selfishness, and close men for 
 their avarice ; but there is a combination of vanity, 
 egotism, small craftiness, and self-preservation in 
 certain fellows that is totally repugnant to all com- 
 panionship. Their lives are a series of petty suc- 
 cesses, not owing to any superior ability or greater 
 boldness of daring, but to a studious outlook for
 
 104 SIR BROOK FOSSBEOOKE. 
 
 small opportunities. They are ever alive to know 
 the ' right man/ to be invited to the ' right house/ to 
 say the ' right thing/ Never linked with whatever 
 is in disgrace or misfortune, they are always found 
 backing the winning horse, if not riding him. 
 
 " Such men as these, so long as the world goes well 
 with them, and events turn out fortunately, are re- 
 garded simply as sharp, shrewd fellows, with a keen 
 eye to their own interests. When, however, the 
 weight of any misfortune comes, when the time 
 arrives that they have to bear up against the hard 
 pressure of life, these fellows come forth in their true 
 colours, swindlers and cheats. 
 
 " Such was he. Finding that I was determined to 
 settle the small fortune her father had left her in- 
 alienably on herself, he defeated me by a private 
 marriage. He then launched out into a life of extra- 
 vagance to which their means bore no proportion. I 
 was a rich man in those days, and knew nothing 
 better to do with my money than assist the daughter 
 of my oldest friend. The gallant Captain did not 
 balk my good intentions. He first accepted, he then 
 borrowed, and last of all he forged my name. I paid 
 the bills and saved him, not for his sake, I need not 
 tell you, but for hers, who threw herself at my feet, 
 and implored me not to see them ruined. Even this 
 act of hers he turned to profit. He wrote to me to
 
 A BEEAKFAST AT THE VICARAGE. 105 
 
 say that he knew his wife had been to my house, 
 that he had long nurtured suspicions against me — I 
 that was many years older than her own father — 
 that for the future he desired all acquaintance should 
 cease between us, and that I should not again cross 
 his threshold. 
 
 " By what persuasions or by what menaces he led 
 his wife to the step, I do not know ; but she passed 
 me when we met without a recognition. This was 
 the hardest blow of all. I tried to write her a 
 letter; but after a score of attempts I gave it up, 
 and left the place. 
 
 " I never saw her for eight years. I wish I had 
 not seen her then. I am an old, hardened man of 
 the world, one whom life has taught all its lessons 
 to in the sternest fashion. I have been so baffled, 
 and beaten, and thrown back by all my attempts to 
 think well of the world, that nothing short of a 
 dogged resolution not to desert my colours has 
 rescued me from a cold misanthropy ; and yet, till 
 I saw, I did not believe there was a new pang of 
 misery my heart had not tasted. What I it is in- 
 credible — surely that is not she who once was Lucy 
 Dillon — that bold-faced woman with lustrous eyes 
 and rouged cheeks — brilliant, indeed, and beautiful, 
 but not the beauty that is allied to the thought of 
 virtue — whose every look is a wile, whose every
 
 106 SIR BROOK FOSSBROOKE. 
 
 action is entanglement. Slie was leaning on a great 
 man's arm, and in the smile she gave him told me 
 how she knew to purchase such distinctions. He 
 noticed me, and shook my hand as I passed. I heard 
 him tell her who I was ; and I heard her say that I 
 had been a hanger-on, a sort of dependant, of her 
 father's, but she never liked me ! I tried to laugh, 
 but the pain was too deep. I came away, and saw 
 her no more." 
 
 He ceased speaking, and for some time they walked 
 along side by side without a word. At last he broke 
 out — "Don't believe the people who say that men 
 are taught by anything they experience in life. Out- 
 wardly they may affect it. They may assume this or 
 that manner. The heart cannot play the hypocrite, 
 and no frequency of disaster diminishes the smart. 
 The wondrous resemblance Miss Lendrick bears to 
 Lucy Dillon renews to my memory the bright days 
 of her early beauty, when her poor father would call 
 her to sit down at his feet and read to him, that he 
 might gaze at will on her, weaving whole histories of 
 future happiness and joy for her. ' Is it not like sun- 
 shine in the room to see her, Brook V would he whis- 
 per to me. 'I only heard her voice as she passed 
 under my window this morning, and I forgot some 
 dark thought that was troubling me.' And there 
 was no exaggeration in this. The sweet music of her
 
 A BREAKFAST AT THE VICAEAGE. 107 
 
 tones vibrated so softly on the ear, tliey soothed the 
 sense, just as we feel soothed by the gentle ripple of 
 a stream. 
 
 " All these times come back to me since I have 
 been here, and I cannot tell you how the very sorrow 
 that is associated with them has its power over me. 
 Every one knows with what attachment the heart 
 will cling to some little spot in a far-away land that 
 reminds one of a loved place at home — how we 
 delight to bring back old memories, and how we even 
 like to name old names, to cheat ourselves back into 
 the past. So it is that I feel when I see this girl. 
 The other Lucy was once as my daughter ; so, too, do 
 I regard her, and with this comes that dreadful sorrow 
 I have told you of, giving my interest in her an in- 
 tensity unspeakable. AVhen I saw Trafford's atten- 
 tion to her, the only thing I thought of was how 
 unlike he was to him who won the other Lucy. His 
 frank, unaffected bearing, his fine, manly trustful- 
 ness, the very opposite to the other's qualities, made 
 me his friend at once. When I say friend, I mean 
 well-wisher, for my friendship now bears no other 
 fruit. Time was when it was otherwise." 
 
 " What is it, William V cried the Vicar, as his ser- 
 vant came hurriedly forward. 
 
 "There's a gentleman in the drawing-room, sir, 
 wants to see Sir Brook Fossbrooke."
 
 108 SIR BROOK FOSSBROOKE. 
 
 "Have I your leave?" said tlie old man, bowing 
 low. " I'll join you here immediately." 
 
 Within a few moments he was back again. " It 
 was Trafford. He has just got a telegram to call him 
 to his regiment. He suspects something has gone 
 wrong ; and seeing his agitation, I offered to go back 
 with him. We start within an hour."
 
 CHAPTEE X. 
 
 LENDRICK RECOUNTS HIS VISIT TO TOWN. 
 
 The Yicar having some business to transact in 
 Limerick, agreed to go that far with Sir Brook and 
 Trafford, and accompanied them to the railroad to 
 see them off. 
 
 A down train from Dublin arrived as they were 
 waiting, and a passenger descending, hastily hurried 
 after the Vicar and seized his hand. The Vicar, in 
 evident delight, forgot his other friends for a moment, 
 and became deeply interested in the new-comer. 
 '*■ We must say good-bye, Doctor," said Fossbrooke ; 
 " here comes our train." 
 
 "A thousand pardons, my dear Sir Brook. The 
 unlooked-for arrival of my friend here— but I believe 
 you don't know him. Lendrick, come here. I want 
 to present you to Sir Brook Fossbrooke. Captain 
 Trafford, Dr Lendrick." 
 
 " I hope these gentlemen are not departing," said 
 Lendrick, with the constraint of a bashful man.
 
 110 SIE BROOK FOSSBROOKE. 
 
 ''It is our misfortune to do so/' said Sir Brook : 
 " but I have passed too many happy hours in this 
 neighbourhood not to come back to it as soon as I 
 can." 
 
 " I hope we shall see you. I hope I may have an 
 opportunity of thanking you, Sir Brook." 
 
 " Dublin ! Dublin ! Dublin ! get in, gentlemen ; 
 first class, this way, sir," screamed a guard, amidst 
 a thundering rumble, a scream, and a hiss. All other 
 words were drowned, and with a cordial shake-hands 
 the new friends parted. 
 
 " Is the younger man his son ?" asked Lendrick ; 
 '' 1 did not catch the name ?" 
 
 " No, he's Trafford, a son of Sir Hugh Trafford — 
 a Lincolnshire man, isn't he ?" 
 
 " I don't know. It was of the other I was think- 
 ing. I felt it so strange to see a man of whom when 
 a boy I used to hear so much. I have an old print 
 somewhere of two overdressed ' Bloods,' as they were 
 called in those days, with immense whiskers, styled 
 ' Fossy and Fussy,' meaning Sir Brook and the Baron 
 Geramb, a German friend and follower of the 
 Prince." 
 
 " I suspect a good deal changed since that day, in 
 person as well as purse," said the Vicar, sadly. 
 
 " Indeed ! I heard of his having inherited some 
 immense fortune." 
 
 " So he did, and squandered every shilling of it."
 
 LENDRICK EECOUNTS HIS VISIT TO TOWN. Ill 
 
 " And tlie chicks are well, you tell me ? " said Len- 
 drick, whose voice softened as he talked of home and 
 his children. 
 
 " Couldn't be better. We had a little picnic on 
 Holy Island yesterday, and only wanted yourself to 
 have been perfectly happy. Lucy was for refusing 
 at first." 
 
 "Why so?" 
 
 '' Some notion she had that you wouldn't like it. 
 Some idea about not doing in your absence anything 
 that was not usual when you are here." 
 
 " She is such a true girl, so loyal," said Lendrick, 
 proudly. 
 
 "Well, I take the treason on my shoulders. I 
 made her come. It was a delightful day, and we 
 drank your health in as good a glass of madeira as 
 ever ripened in the sun. Now for your own news ? " 
 
 " First let us get on the road. I am impatient to 
 be back at home again. Have you your car here ? " 
 
 "All is ready, and waiting for you at the gate." 
 
 As they drove briskly along, Lendrick gave the 
 Vicar a detailed account of his visit to Dublin. Pass- 
 ing over the first days, of which the reader already 
 has heard something, we take up the story from the 
 day on which Lendrick learned that his father would 
 see him. 
 
 " My mind was so full of myself, Doctor," said he, 
 "of all the consequences which had followed from
 
 112 SIR BROOK FOSSBROOKE. 
 
 my father's anger with nie, that I had no thought of 
 anything else till I entered the room where he was. 
 Then, however, as I saw him propped up with pillows 
 in a deep chair, his face pale, his eyes colourless, and 
 his head swathed up in a bandage after leeching, my 
 heart sickened, alike with sorrow and shame at my 
 great selfishness. 
 
 " I had been warned by Beattie on no account to 
 let any show of feeling or emotion escape me, to 
 be as cool and collected as possible, and in fact, he 
 said, to behave as though I had seen him the day 
 before. 
 
 " ' Leave the room, Poynder,' said he to his man, 
 ' and suffer no one to knock at the door — mind, not 
 even to knock — till I ring my bell.' He waited till 
 the man withdrew, and then, in a very gentle voice 
 said, 'How are you, Tom? I can't give you my 
 right hand — the rebellious member has ceased to 
 know me ! ' I thought I should choke as the words 
 met me ; I don't remember what I said, but I took 
 my chair and sat down beside him. 
 
 " ' I thought you might have been too much agi- 
 tated, Tom, but otherwise I should have wished to 
 have had your advice along with Beattie. I believe, 
 on the whole, however, he has treated me well' 
 
 " I assured him that none could have done more 
 skilfully. 
 
 " ' The skill of the doctor with an old patient, is
 
 LENDRICK EECOUNTS HIS VISIT TO TOWN. 113 
 
 the skill of an architect with an old wall. He must 
 not breach it, or it will tumble to pieces.' 
 
 " ' Beattie is very able, sir/ said I. 
 
 " ' 'No man is able,' replied he, quickly, ' when the 
 question is to repair the wastes of time and years. 
 Draw that curtain, and let me look at you. No ; 
 stand yonder, where the light is stronger. What! 
 is it my eyes deceive me— is your hair white ? ' 
 
 " ' It has been so eight years, sir/ 
 
 " ' And I had not a grey hair till my seventy-second 
 year — not one. I told Beattie, t'other day, that the 
 race of the strong was dying out. Good heavens, 
 how old you look ! Would any one believe in seeing 
 us that you could be my son ? ' 
 
 " ' I feel perhaps even more than I look it, sir.' 
 
 " ^ I could swear you did. You are the very stamp 
 of those fellows who plead guilty — guilty, my lord ; 
 we throw ourselves on the mercy of the court. I 
 don't know how the great judgment -seat regards 
 these pleas — with me they meet only scorn. Give 
 me the man who says, "Try me, test me." Drop 
 that curtain, and draw the screen across the fire. 
 Speak lower too, my dear,' said he, in a weak soft 
 voice ; * you suffer yourself to grow excited, and you 
 excite one.' 
 
 " ' I will be more cautious, sir,' said I. 
 
 " ' What are these drops he is giving me ? They 
 have an acrid sweet taste.' 
 
 VOL. L H
 
 114 SIR BROOK FOSSBROOKE. 
 
 " ' Aconite, sir ; a weak solution/ 
 
 " ' They say that our laws never forgot feudalism, 
 but I declare I believe medicine has never been able 
 to ignore alchemy ; drop me out twenty, I see that 
 your hand does not shake. Strange thought, is it 
 not, to feel that a little phial like that could make a 
 new Baron of the Exchequer? You have heard, I 
 suppose, of the attempts — the indecent attempts — to 
 induce me to resign. You have heard what they say 
 of my age. They quote the registry of my baptism, 
 as though it were the date of a conviction. I have 
 yet to learn that the years a man has devoted to his 
 country's service are counts in the indictment against 
 his character. Age has been less merciful to me 
 than to my fellows — it has neither made me deaf to 
 rancour nor blind to ingratitude. I told the Lord- 
 Lieutenant so yesterday.' 
 
 " ' You saw him then, sir ? ' asked I. 
 
 " ' Yes, he was gracious enough to call here ; he 
 sent his secretary to ask if I would receive a visit 
 from him. I thought that a little more tact might 
 have been expected from a man in his station — it is 
 the common gift of those in high places. I perceive/ 
 added he, after a pause, ' you don't see what I mean. 
 It is this : royalties, or mock royalties, for they are 
 the same in this, condescend to these visits as death- 
 bed attentions. They come to us with their cour- 
 tesies as the priest comes with his holy cruet, only
 
 LENDRICK EECOUNTS HIS VISIT TO TOWN. 115 
 
 when they have the assurance that we are beyond 
 recovery. His Excellency onght to have felt that 
 the man to whom he proposed this attention was not 
 one to misunderstand its significance.' 
 
 " ' Did he remain long, sir ? ' 
 
 " ' Two hours and forty minutes. I measured it 
 by my watch.' 
 
 " ' Was the fatigue not too much for you ? ' 
 
 '' ' Of course it was ; I fainted before he got to his 
 carriage. He twice rose to go away, but on each 
 occasion I had something to say that induced him to 
 sit down again. It was the whole case of Ireland 
 we reviewed — that is, I did. I deployed the six 
 millions before him, and he took the salute. Yes, 
 sir, education, religious animosities, land-tenure, 
 drainage, emigration, secret societies, the rebel priest 
 and the intolerant parson, even nationality and men- 
 dicant insolence, all marched past, and he took the 
 salute ! " And now, my lord," said I, " it is the man 
 who tells you these things, who has the courage to 
 tell, and the ability to display them, and it is this 
 man for whose retirement your Excellency is so 
 eager, that you have actually deigned to make him 
 a visit, that he may carry away into the next world, 
 perhaps, a pleasing memory of this ; it is this man, 
 I say, whom you propose to replace, — and by what, 
 my lord, and by whom ? Will a mere lawyer, will 
 any amount of nisi priiis craft or precedent, give you
 
 116 SIR BKOOK FOSSBKOOKE. 
 
 the qualities you need on that bench, or that you 
 need, sadly need, at this council-board? Go back, 
 my lord, and tell your colleagues of the Cabinet 
 that Providence is more merciful than a Premier, 
 and that the same overruling hand that has sustained 
 me through this trial, will uphold me, I trust, for 
 years, to serve my country, and save it for some time 
 longer from your blundering legislation.'* 
 
 "'He stood up, sir, like a prisoner when under 
 sentence ; he stood up, sir, and as he bowed, I waved 
 my adieu to him as though saying, You have heard 
 me, and you are not to carry away from this place a 
 hope, the faintest, that any change will come over 
 the determination I have this day declared. 
 
 " ' He went away, and I fainted. The exertion was 
 too long sustained, too much for me. I believe, after 
 all,' added he, with a smile, ' his Excellency bore it 
 very little better. He told the Archbishop the same 
 evening that he'd not go through another such morn- 
 ing for " the garter." Men in his station hear so little 
 of truth, that it revolts them like coarse diet. They'd 
 rather abstain altogether till forced by actual hunger 
 to touch it. When they come to me, however, it is 
 the only fare they will find before them.' 
 
 "There was a long pause after this," continued 
 Lendrick. " I saw that the theme had greatly excited 
 him, and I forbore to say a word, lest he should be 
 led to resume it. * Too old for the bench ! ' burst he
 
 LENDRICK RECOUNTS HIS VISIT TO TOWN. 117 
 
 out suddenly; *iny lord, there are men who are 
 never too old, as there are those who are never too 
 young. The oak is but a sapling when the pine is 
 in decay. Is there that glut of intellect just now in 
 England, are we so surfeited with ability, that, to 
 make room for the coming men, we, who have made 
 our mark on the age, must retire into obscurity?' 
 He tried to rise from his seat ; his face was flushed, 
 and his eyes flashing ; he evidently forgot where he 
 was, and with whom, for he sank back with a faint 
 sigh, and said, ' Let us talk of it no more. Let us 
 think of something else. Indeed it was to talk of 
 something else I desired to see you.' He went on 
 then to say that he wished something could be done 
 for me. His own means were, he said, saddly crip- 
 pled ; he spoke bitterly, resentfully, I thought. ' It 
 is too long a story to enter on, and were it briefer, 
 too disagreeable a one,' added he. ' I ought to be a 
 rich man, and I am poor ; I should be powerful, and 
 I have no influence. All has gone ill with me.' 
 After a silence, he continued, ' They have a place to 
 offer you ; the inspectorship, I think they call it, of 
 hospitals at the Cape ; it is worth altogether nigh a 
 thousand a-year, a thing not to be refused.* 
 
 " ' The offer could only be made in compliment to 
 you, sir ; and if my acceptance were to compromise 
 your position ' 
 
 " ' Compromise me ! ' broke he in. * I'll take care
 
 118 ■ SIR BROOK FOSSBROOKE. 
 
 it shall not. No man need instruct me in the art of 
 self-defence, sir. Accept at once.' 
 
 " ' I will do whatever you desire, sir/ was my answer. 
 
 " ' Go out there yourself alone — at first, I mean. 
 Let your boy continue his college career ; the girl 
 shall come to me.' 
 
 " ' I have never been separated from my children, 
 sir,' said I, almost trembling with anxiety. 
 
 " ' Such separations are bearable,' added he, ' when 
 it is duty dictates them, not disobedience." 
 
 " He fixed his eyes sternly on me, and I trembled 
 as I thought that the long score of years was at last 
 come to the reckoning. He did not dwell on the 
 theme, however, but in a tone of much gentler mean- 
 ing, went on, ' It will be an act of mercy to let me 
 see a loving face, to hear a tender voice. Your boy 
 would be too rough for me.' 
 
 " ' You would like him, sir. He is thoroughly 
 truthful and honest.' 
 
 " ' So he may, and yet be self-willed, be noisy, be 
 over-redolent of that youth which age resents like 
 outrage. Give me the girl, Tom ; let her come here, 
 and bestow some of those loving graces on the last 
 hours of my life her looks show she should be rich 
 in. For your sake she will be kind to me. Who 
 knows what charm there may be in gentleness, even 
 to a tiger-nature like mine? Ask her, at least, if 
 she will make the sacrifice.'
 
 LENDRICK RECOUNTS HIS VISIT TO TOWN. 119 
 
 " I knew not what to answer. If I could not en- 
 dure the thought of parting from Lucy, yet it seemed 
 equally impossible to refuse his entreaty, old, friend- 
 less, and deserted as he was. I felt, besides, that my 
 only hope of a real reconciliation with him lay through 
 this road ; deny him this, and it was clear he would 
 never see me more. He said, too, it should only be 
 for a season. I was to see how the place, the climate, 
 suited for a residence. In a word, every possible 
 argument to reconcile me to the project rushed to 
 my mind, and I at last said, ' Lucy shall decide, sir. 
 I will set out for home at once, and you shall have 
 her own answer.' 
 
 " ' Uninfluenced, sir,' cried he — ' mind that. If 
 influence were to be used, I could, perhaps, tell her 
 what might decide her at once; but I would not 
 that pity should plead for me, till she should have 
 seen if I be worth compassion ! There is but one 
 argument I will permit in my favour — tell her that 
 her picture has been my pleasantest companion these 
 three long days. There it lies, always before me. 
 Go, now, and let me hear from you as soon as may 
 be.' I arose, but somehow my agitation, do what I 
 would, mastered me. It was so long since we had 
 met! All the sorrows the long estrangement had 
 cost me came to my mind, together with little 
 touches of his kindness in long-past years, and I 
 could not speak. * Poor Tom, poor Tom ! ' said
 
 120 SIR BROOK FOSSBROOKE. 
 
 he, drawing me towards him ; and he kissed 
 me." 
 
 As Lendrick said this, emotion overcame him, and 
 he covered his face with his hands, and sobbed bit- 
 terly. More than a mile of road was traversed be- 
 fore a word passed between them. " There they are, 
 Doctor ! There's Tom, there's Lucy ! They are com- 
 ing to meet me," cried he. "Good-bye, Doctor; 
 you'll forgive me, I know — good-bye;" and he 
 sprang off the car as he spoke, while the Vicar, re- 
 specting the sacredness of the joy, wheeled his horse 
 round, and drove back towards the town.
 
 CHAPTEE XL 
 
 CAVE CONSULTS SIE BEOOK. 
 
 A FEW minutes after the Adjutant had informed 
 Colonel Cave that Lieutenant Trafibrd had reported 
 himself, Sir Brook entered the Colonel's quarters, 
 eager to know what was the reason of the sudden 
 recall of Trafford, and whether the regiment had 
 been unexpectedly ordered for foreign service. 
 
 " No, no," said Cave, in some confusion. " We 
 have had our turn of India and the Cape ; they can't 
 send us away again for some time. It was purely 
 personal ; it was, I may say, a private reason. You 
 know," added he, with a slight smile, " I am acting 
 as a sort of guardian to Trafford just now. His 
 family sent him over to me, as to a reformatory." 
 
 " From everything I have seen of him, your office 
 wiU be an easy one." 
 
 "Well, I suspect that, so far as mere wildness 
 goes — extravagance and that sort- of thing — he lias 
 had enough of it; but there are mistakes that a
 
 122 SIR BROOK FOSSBROOKE. 
 
 young fellow may make in life — mistakes in judg- 
 ment — which will damage him more irreparably 
 than all his derelictions against morality." 
 
 " That I deny — totally, entirely deny. I know 
 what you mean — that is, I think I know what you 
 mean ; and if I guess aright, I am distinctly at issue 
 with you on this matter." 
 
 " Perhaps I could convince you, notwithstanding. 
 Here's a letter which I have no right to show you ; 
 it is marked, ' Strictly confidential and private.' You 
 shall read it — nay, you must read it — because you 
 are exactly the man to be able to give advice on the 
 matter. You like Trafford, and wish him well. Eead 
 that over carefuUy, and tell me what you would 
 counsel." 
 
 Eossbrooke took out his spectacles, and having 
 seated himself comfortably, with his back to the light, 
 began in leisurely fashion to peruse the letter. " It's 
 his mother who writes," said he, turning to the sig- 
 nature — " one of the most worldly women I ever 
 met. She was a Lascelles. Don't you know how 
 she married Trafford ? " 
 
 " I don't remember, if I ever heard." 
 " It was her sister that Trafford wanted to marry, 
 but she was ambitious to be a peeress ; and as Brad- 
 brook was in love with her, she told Sir Hugh, ' I 
 have got a sister so like me nobody can distinguish 
 between us. She'd make an excellent wife for you.
 
 CAVE CONSULTS SIR BROOK. 123 
 
 She rides far better tlian me, and she isn't half so 
 extravagant. I'll send for her.' She did so, and 
 the whole thing was settled in a week." 
 " They have lived very happily together." 
 " Of course they have. They didn't ' go in,' as the 
 speculators say, for enormous profits; they realised 
 very fairly, and were satisfied. I wish her hand- 
 writing had been more cared for. What's this she 
 says here about a subscription ? " 
 
 " That's supervision — the supervision of a parent." 
 " Supervision of a fiddlestick ! the fellow is six 
 feet one inch high, and seven-and-twenty years of 
 age ; he's quite beyond supervision. Ah ! brought 
 back all his father's gout, has he ? When will people 
 begin to admit that their own tempers have some- 
 thing to say to their maladies ? I curse the cook 
 who made the mulligatawny, but I forget that I ate 
 two platefuls of it. So it's the Doctor's daughter she 
 objects to. I wish she saw her. I wish you saw 
 her, "Cave. You are an old frequenter of courts and 
 drawing-rooms. I tell you you have seen nothing 
 like this doctor's daughter since Laura Bedingfield 
 was presented, and that was before your day." 
 
 " Every one has heard of the Beauty Bedingfield ; 
 but she was my mother's contemporary." 
 
 " Well, sir, her successors have not eclipsed her ! 
 This doctor's daughter, as your correspondent calls 
 her, is the only rival of her that I have ever seen.
 
 124 SIR BROOK FOSSBROOKE. 
 
 As to wit and accomplisliments, Laura could not 
 compete with Lucy Lendrick." 
 
 "You know her, then?" asked the Colonel; and 
 then added, " Tell me something about the 
 family." 
 
 "With your leave I will finish this letter first. 
 Ah ! here we have the whole secret. Lionel Trafford 
 is likely to be that precious prize, an eldest son. 
 Who could have thought that the law of entail could 
 sway a mother's affections ? . ' Contract no ties incon- 
 sistent with his station.' This begins to be intol- 
 erable, Cave. I don't think I can go on." 
 
 " Yes, yes ; read it through." 
 
 " She asks you if you know any one who knows 
 these Hendrichs or Lendrichs ; tell her that you do ; 
 tell her that your friend is one of those men who have 
 seen a good deal of life, heard more too than he has 
 seen. She will understand that, and that his name 
 is Sir Brook Fossbrooke, who, if needed, will think 
 nothing of a journey over to Lincolnshire to afford 
 her all the information she could wish for. Say this, 
 Cave, and take my word for it, she will put very few 
 more questions to you." 
 
 " That would be to avow I had already consulted 
 with you. ISTo, no ; I must not do that." 
 
 " The wind-up of the epistle is charming. * I have 
 certainly no reason to love Ireland.' Poor Ireland ! 
 here is another infliction upon you. Let us hope you
 
 CAVE CONSULTS SIR BROOK. 125 
 
 may never come to know that Lady Trafford cannot 
 love you." 
 
 " Come, come, Fossbrooke, be just, be fair ; there 
 is nothing so very unreasonable in the anxiety of a 
 mother that her son, who will have a good name and 
 a large estate, should not share them both with a 
 person beneath him." 
 
 " Why must she assume that this is the case — why 
 take it for granted that this girl must be beneath 
 him ? I tell you sir, if a prince of the blood had 
 fallen in love with her, it would be a reason to repeal 
 the Eoyal Marriage Act." 
 
 "I declare, Fossbrooke, I shall begin to suspect 
 that your own heart has not escaped scatheless," said 
 Cave, laughing. 
 
 The old man's face became crimson, but not with 
 anger. As suddenly it grew pale ; and in a voice of 
 deep agitation he said, ** When an old man like my- 
 self lays his homage at her feet, it is not hard to 
 believe how a young man might love her." 
 
 " How did you come to make this acquaintance ?" 
 said Cave, anxious to turn the conversation into a 
 more familiar channel. 
 
 *' We chanced to fall in with her brother on the 
 river. We found him struggling with a fish far too 
 large for his tackle, and which at last smashed his 
 rod and got away. He showed not alone that he 
 was a perfect angler, but that he was a fine-tempered
 
 126 SIR BEOOK FOSSBROOKE. 
 
 fellow, who accepted his defeat manfully and well ; 
 lie had even a good word for his enemy, sir, and it 
 was that which attracted me. Trafford and he, young- 
 men-like, soon understood each other ; he came into 
 our boat, lunched with us, and asked us home with 
 him to tea. There's the whole story. As to the inti- 
 macy that followed, it was mostly my own doing. I 
 own to you I never so much as suspected that Trafford 
 was smitten by her : he was always with her brother, 
 scarcely at all in her company ; and when he came 
 to tell me he was in love, I asked him how he caught 
 the malady, for I never saw him near the infection. 
 Once that I knew of the matter, however, I made him 
 write home to his family." 
 
 " It was by your advice, then, that he wrote that 
 letter?" 
 
 " Certainly ; I not only advised, I insisted on it — 
 I read it, too, before it was sent off. It was such a 
 letter as, if I had been the young feUow's father, 
 would have made me prouder than to hear he had 
 got the thanks of Parliament." 
 
 " You and I, Fossbrooke, are old bachelors ; we are 
 scarcely able to say what we should have done if we 
 had had sons." 
 
 " I am inclined to believe it would have made us 
 better, not worse," said Fossbrooke, gravely. 
 
 " At all events, as it was at your instigation this 
 letter was written, I can't weU suggest your name as
 
 CAVE CONSULTS SIR BEOOK. 127 
 
 an impartial person in the transaction — I mean, as 
 one who can be referred to for advice or information." 
 "Don't do so, sir, or I shall be tempted to say 
 more than may be prudent. Have you never noticed. 
 Cave, the effect that a doctor's presence produces in 
 the society of those who usually consult him — the 
 reserve — the awkwardness — the constraint — the apo- 
 logetic tone for this or that little indiscretion — the 
 sitting in the draught or the extra glass of sherry ? 
 So is it, but in a far stronger degree, when an old 
 man of the world like myself comes back amongst 
 those he formerly lived with — one who knew all their 
 past history, how they succeeded here, how they 
 failed there — what led the great man of fashion to 
 finish his days in a colony, and why the Court beauty 
 married a bishop. Ah, sir, we are the physicians who 
 have all these secrets in our keeping. It is ours to 
 know what sorrow is covered by that smile, how that 
 merry laugh has but smothered the sigh of a heavy 
 heart. It is only when a man has lived to my age, 
 with an unfailing memory too, that he knows the real 
 hollowness of life — all the combinations falsified, all 
 the hopes blighted — the clever fellows that have 
 turned out failures, or worse than failures — the lovely 
 women that have made shipwreck through their 
 beauty. It is not only, however, that he knows this, 
 but he knows how craft and cunning have won where 
 ability and frankness have lost — how intrigue and
 
 128 SIR BROOK FOSSBROOKE. 
 
 trick have done better than genius and integrity. 
 "With all this knowledge, sir, in their heads, and stout 
 hearts within them, such men as myself have their 
 utility in life. They are a sort of walking conscience 
 that cannot he ignored. The railroad millionaire 
 talks less boastfully before him who knew him as an 
 errand-boy ; the grande dame is less superciliously 
 insolent in the presence of one who remembered her 
 in a very different character. Take my word for it, 
 Cave, Nestor may have been a bit of a bore amongst 
 the young Greeks of fashion, but he had his utility 
 too." 
 
 " But how am I to answer this letter ? what advice 
 shall I give her?" 
 
 " Tell her frankly that you have made the inquiry 
 she wished ; that the young lady, who is as well-born 
 as her son, is without fortune, and if her personal 
 qualities count for nothing, would be what the world 
 would call a 'bad match.'" 
 
 " Yes, that sounds practicable. I think that will 
 do." 
 
 " Tell her also, that if she seriously desire that her 
 son should continue in the way of that reformation he 
 has so ardently followed for some time back, and 
 especially so since he has made the acquaintance of 
 this family, such a marriage as this would give her 
 better reasons for confidence than all her most crafty 
 devices in match-makincj and settlements."
 
 CAVE CONSULTS SIR BROOK. 129 
 
 " I don't think I can exactly tell her that," said 
 Cave, smiling. 
 
 " Tell her, then, that if this connection be not to 
 her liking, to withdraw her son at once from this 
 neighbourhood before this girl should come to care 
 for him ; for if she should, by heavens ! he shall 
 marry her, if every acre of the estate were to go to 
 a cousin ten times removed I " 
 
 " Were not these people all strangers to you t'other 
 day, Fossbrooke ?" said Cave, in something like a 
 tone of reprehension. 
 
 " So they were. I had never so much as heard of 
 them ; but she, this girl, has a claim upon my in- 
 terest, founded on a resemblance so strong, that when 
 I see her, I live back again in the long past and find 
 myself in converse with the dearest friends I ever 
 had. I vow to heaven I never knew the bitterness 
 of want of fortune till now! I never felt how 
 powerless and insignificant poverty can make a 
 man till I desired to contribute to this girl's happi- 
 ness ; and if I were not an old worthless wreck — 
 shattered and unseaworthy — I'd set to work to- 
 morrow to refit and try to make a fortune to bestow 
 on her." 
 
 If Cave was half disposed to banter the old man 
 on what seemed little short of a devoted attachment, 
 the agitation of Fossbrooke's manner — his trembling 
 lip, his shaking voice, his changing colour — all warned 
 
 VOL. I. I
 
 130 SIR BROOK FOSSBROOKE. 
 
 him to forbear, and abstain from wbat miglit well 
 have proved a perilous freedom. 
 
 *' You v^ill dine with us at mess, Fossbrooke, won't 
 you?^' 
 
 " No ; I shall return at once to Killaloe. I made 
 Dr Lendrick's acquaintance just as I started by the 
 train. I want to see more of him. Besides, now that 
 I know what was the emergency that called young 
 Trafford up here, I have nothing to detain me." 
 
 " Shall you see him before you go ? " 
 
 " Of course. I'm going over to his quarters now." 
 
 "You will not mention our conversation ?" 
 
 " Certainly not." 
 
 " I'd like to show you my letter before I send it 
 off. I'd be glad to think it was what you recom- 
 mended." 
 
 " Write what you feel to be a fair statement of the 
 case, and if by any chance an inclination to partiality 
 crosses you, let it be in favour of the young. Take 
 my word for it, Cave, there is a selfishness in age 
 that needs no ally. Stand by the sons — the fathers 
 and mothers will take care of themselves. Good- 
 bye."
 
 CHAPTEE XII. 
 
 A GREAT man's SCHOOLFELLOW. 
 
 Whether it was that the Chief Baron had thrown off 
 an attack which had long menaced him, and whose 
 slow approaches had gradually impaired his strength 
 and diminished his mental activity, or whether, as 
 some of his " friends " suggested, that the old man's 
 tenure of life had been renewed by the impertinences 
 of the newspapers and the insolent attacks of politi- 
 cal foes — an explanation not by any means far- 
 fetched, — whatever the cause, he came out of his ill- 
 ness with all the signs of renewed vigour, and with a 
 degree of mental acuteness that he had not enjoyed 
 for many years before. 
 
 "Beattie tells me that this attack has inserted 
 another life in my lease," said he ; " and I am glad 
 of it. It is right that the men who speculated on 
 my death should be reminded of the uncertainty of 
 life by the negative proof It is well, too, that there 
 should be men long-lived enough to bridge over pe-
 
 132 SIR BROOK FOSSBROOKE. 
 
 riods of mediocrity, and connect the triumplis of the 
 past with the coming glories of the future. We are 
 surely not destined to a perpetuity of Pendletons 
 and Fitzgibbons ! " 
 
 It was thus he discoursed to an old legal comrade 
 — who, less gifted and less fortunate, still wore his 
 stuff gown, and pleaded for the outer bar — poor old 
 Billy Haire, the dreariest advocate, and one of the 
 honestest fellows that ever carried his bag into court. 
 While nearly all of his contemporaries had risen to 
 rank and eminence, Billy toiled on through life with 
 small success, liked by his friends, respected by the 
 world, but the terror of attorneys, who only saw in 
 him the type of adverse decisions and unfavourable 
 verdicts. 
 
 For forty-odd years had he lived a life that any 
 but himself would have deemed martyrdom — his law 
 laughed at, his eloquence ridiculed, his manner mim- 
 icked, jeered at by the bench, quizzed by the bar, 
 sneered at by the newspapers, every absurd story- 
 tagged to his name, every stupid blunder fathered on 
 him, till at last, as it were, by the mere force of years, 
 the world came to recognise the incomparable temper 
 that no provocation had ever been able to irritate, 
 the grand nature that rose above all resentment, and 
 would think better of its fellows than these moods of 
 spiteful wit or impertinent drollery might seem to 
 entitle them to.
 
 A GREAT man's SCHOOLFELLOW. 133 
 
 The old Judge liked him ; he liked his manly sim- 
 plicity of character, his truthfulness, and his honesty; 
 but perhaps more than all these did he like his dul- 
 ness. It was so pleasant to him to pelt this poor 
 heavy man with smart epigrams and pungent sar- 
 casms on all that was doing in the world, and see 
 the hopeless effort he made to follow him. 
 
 Billy, too, had another use : he alone, of all the 
 Chief Barous friends, could tell him what was the 
 current gossip of the hall — what men thought, or, at 
 least, what they said of him. The genuine simplicity 
 of Haire's nature gave to his revelations a character 
 so devoid of all spitefulness — it was so evident that, 
 in repeating, he never identified himself with his 
 story, that Lendrick would listen to words from him 
 that, coming from another, his resentment would have 
 repelled with indignation. 
 
 " And you tell me that the story now is, my whole 
 attack was nothing but temper ? " said the old Judge, 
 as the two men walked slowly up and down on the 
 grass lawn before the door. 
 
 " Not that exactly ; but they say that constitu- 
 tional irritability had much to say to it." 
 
 " It was, in fact, such a seizure as, with a man like 
 yourself, would have been a mere nothing." 
 
 " Perhaps so." 
 
 " I am sm^e of it, sir ; and what more do they 
 say?"
 
 134 . SIR BEOOK FOSSBROOKE. , 
 
 " All sorts of tilings, whicli of course they know 
 nothing about. Some have it that you refused the 
 peerage, others that it was not offered." 
 
 " Ha ! " said the old man, irritably, while a faint 
 flush tinged his cheek. 
 
 " They say, too," continued Haire, " that when the 
 Viceroy informed you that you were not to be made 
 a peer, you said, ' Let the Crown look to it then. 
 The Eevenue cases all come to my court ; and so 
 long as I sit there they shall never have a verdict.' " 
 
 "You must have invented that yourself, Billy," 
 said the Judge, with a droll malice in his eye. 
 " Come, confess it is your own. It is so like you." 
 
 " No, on my honour," said the other, solemnly. 
 
 *' Not that I would take it ill, Haire, if you had. 
 When a man has a turn for epigram, his friends must 
 extend their indulgence to the humour." 
 
 " I assure you, positively, it is not mine." 
 
 " That is quite enough ; let us talk of something 
 else. By the way, I have a letter to show you. I 
 put it in my pocket this morning, to let you see it ; 
 but, first of all, I must show you the 'v\Titer — here 
 she is." He drew forth a small miniature case, and, 
 opening it, handed it to the other. 
 
 " What' a handsome girl ! downright beautiful ! " 
 
 " My granddaughter, sir," said the old man, 
 proudly. ... ' < - ■ v" ^•' ■-■■-- 
 
 " I declare I never saw a lovelier face," said Haire.
 
 A GREAT MAN S SCHOOLFELLOW. 135 
 
 " She must be a rare cheat if she be not as good as 
 she is beautiful. What a sweet mouth ! " 
 
 " The brow is fine ; there is a high intelligence 
 about the eyes and the temples." 
 
 " It is the smile, that little lurking smile, that cap- 
 tivates me. What may her age be ? " 
 
 " Something close on twenty. Now for her letter. 
 Eead that." 
 
 AVhile Haire perused the letter the old Judge saun- 
 tered away, looking from time to time at the miniature, 
 and muttering some low inaudible words as he went. 
 
 " I don't think I understand it. I am at a loss to 
 catch what she is drifting at," said Haire, as he fin- 
 ished the first side of the letter. " What is she so 
 grateful for ? " 
 
 " You think the case is one which calls for little 
 gratitude then. What a sarcastic mood you are in 
 this morning, Haire," said the Judge, with a malicious 
 twinkle of the eye. " Still there are young ladies in 
 the world who would vouchsafe to bear me company 
 in requital for being placed at the head of such a 
 house as this." 
 
 " I can make nothing of it," said the other, hope- 
 lessly. 
 
 " The case is this," said the Judge, as he drew his 
 arm within the other's. "Tom Lendrick has been 
 offered a post of some value — some value to a man, 
 poor as he is — at the Cape. I have told him that his
 
 136 SIR BROOK FOSSBROOKE. 
 
 acceptance in no way involves me. I have told those 
 who have offered the place that I stand aloof in the 
 whole negotiation — that in their advancement of my 
 son they establish no claim upon me. I have even 
 said I will know nothing whatever of the incident." 
 He paused for some minutes, and then went on. " I 
 have told Tom, however, if his circumstances were 
 such as to dispose him to avail himself of this offer, 
 that — until he assured himself that the place was one 
 to his liking, that it gave a reasonable prospect of 
 permanence, that the climate was salubrious, and the 
 society not distasteful — I would take his daughter to 
 live with me." 
 
 " He has a son, too, hasn't he ? " 
 
 " He has, sir, and he would fain have induced me 
 to take him instead of the girl ; but this I would not 
 listen to. I have not nerves for the loud speech and 
 boisterous vitality of a young fellow of four or five 
 and twenty. His very vigour would be a standing 
 insult to me, and the fellow would know it. When 
 men come to my age they want a mild atmosphere in 
 morals and manners, as well as in climate. My son's 
 physiology has not taught him this, doctor though 
 he be." 
 
 " I see — I see it all now," said Haire ; " and the 
 girl, though sorry to be separated from her father, is 
 gratified by the thought of becoming a tie between 
 him and you."
 
 A GREAT man's SCHOOLFELLOW. 137 
 
 " This is not in the record, sir," said the Judge, 
 sternly. " Keep to your brief." He took the letter 
 sharply from the other's hand as he spoke. " My 
 granddaughter has not had much experience of life ; 
 but her woman's tact has told her that her real diffi- 
 culty — her only one, perhaps — will be with Lady 
 Lendrick. She cannot know that Lady Lendrick's 
 authority in this house is nothing — less than nothing. 
 I would never have invited her to come here, had it 
 been otherwise." 
 
 " Have you apprised Lady Lendrick of this arrange- 
 ment ? " 
 
 "N'o, sir; nor shall L It shall be for you to do 
 that ' ofi&ciously,' as the French say, to distinguish 
 from what is called ' officially.' I mean you to call 
 upon her and say, in the course of conversation, in- 
 formally, accidentally, that Miss Lendrick's arrival 
 at the Priory has been deferred, or that it is fixed for 
 such a date — in fact, sir, whatever your own nice 
 tact may deem the neatest mode of alluding to the 
 topic, leaving to her the reply. You understand 
 me?" 
 
 " I'm not so sure that I do." 
 
 " So much the better ; your simplicity will be more 
 inscrutable than your subtlety, Haire. I can deal 
 with the one — the other masters me." 
 
 " I declare frankly I don't like the mission. I was 
 never, so to say, a favourite with her ladyship."
 
 138 . SIR BROOK FOSSBROOKE. 
 
 " Neither was I, sir," said tlie other, with a peremp- 
 tory loudness that was almost startling. 
 
 " Hadn't you better intimate it by a few lines in a 
 note ? Hadn't you better say that, having seen your 
 son during his late visit to town, and learnt his inten- 
 tion to accept a colonial appointment " 
 
 " All this would be apologetic, sir, and must not 
 be thought of. Don't you know, Haire, that every 
 unnecessary af&davit is a flaw in a man's case ? Go 
 and see her; your very awkwardness will imply a 
 secret, and she'll be so well pleased with her acute- 
 ness in discovering the mystery, she'll half forget its 
 offence." 
 
 " Let me clearly understand what I've got to do. 
 I'm to tell her, or to let her find out, that you have 
 been reconciled to your son Tom ? " 
 
 " There is not a word of reconciliation, sir, in all 
 your instructions. You are to limit yourself to the 
 statement that touches my granddaughter." 
 
 " Yery well ; it will be so much the easier. I'm 
 to say, then, that you have adopted her, and placed 
 her at the head of your house ; that she is to live here 
 in all respects as its mistress ? " 
 
 He paused, and as the Judge bowed a concurrence, 
 he went on. " Of course you will allow me to add 
 that I was never consulted ; that you did not ask my 
 opinion, and that I never gave one ? " 
 " You are at liberty to say all this."
 
 A GREAT MAN S SCHOOLFELLOW. 139 
 
 " I would even say that I don't exactly see how 
 the thing will work. A very young girl, with of 
 course a limited experience of life, will have no com- 
 mon difficulties in dealing with a world so new and 
 strange, particularly without the companionship of 
 one of her own sex." 
 
 " I cannot promise to supply that want, but she 
 shall see as much of you as possible." And the words 
 were uttered with a blended courtesy and malice, of 
 which he was perfect master. Poor Haire, however, 
 only saw the complimentary part, and hurriedly 
 pledged himself to be at Miss Lendrick's orders at 
 all times. 
 
 " Come and let me show you how I mean to lodge 
 her. I intend her to feel a perfect independence of 
 me and my humours. We are to see each other from 
 inclination, not constraint. I intend, sir, that we 
 should live on good terms ; and as the Church will 
 have nothing to say to the compact, it is possible it 
 may succeed. 
 
 " These rooms are to be hers," said he, opening a 
 door which offered a vista through several handsomely 
 furnished rooms, all looking out upon a neatly kept 
 flower-garden. " Lady Lendrick, I believe, had long 
 since destined them for a son and daughter-in-law of 
 hers, who are on their way home from India. The 
 plan will be now all the more difficult of accom- 
 plishment."
 
 140 SIR BROOK FOSSBROOKE. 
 
 " Which will not make my communication to her 
 the pleasanter." 
 
 '• But redound so much the more to the credit of 
 your adroitness, Haire, if you succeed. Come over 
 here this evening and report progress." And with 
 this he nodded an easy good-bye, and strolled down 
 the garden. 
 
 " I don't envy Haire his brief in this case," mut- 
 tered he. " He'll not have the ' court with him,' 
 that's certain;" and he laughed spitefully to himself 
 as he went.
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 LAST DAYS. 
 
 It may seem a hardship, but, not improbably, it is in 
 its way an alleviation, that we are never invoh^ed in 
 any of the great trials in life, without having to deal 
 with certain material embarrassments, questions of 
 vulgar interest which concern our pockets and affect 
 our finances. 
 
 Poor Lendrick's was a case in point. He was about 
 to leave his country — to tear himself from a home he 
 had embellished — to separate from his children that 
 he loved so dearly, to face a new life in a new land, 
 friendless and alone ; and with all these cares on his 
 heart, he had creditors to satisfy, debts to insure 
 payment of by security, and, not least of his troubles, 
 his house to re-let. Now the value the world sets on 
 that which is not for sale is very unlike its estimate 
 for the same commodity when brought to market. 
 The light claret your friend pronounced a very plea- 
 sant little wine at your own table, he would discover,
 
 142 SIR BROOK FOSSBROOKE. 
 
 when offered for purchase, to be poor, washy, and 
 acrid. The horse you had lent him, and whose per- 
 formance he had encomiumised, if put up to auction, 
 would be found spavined, or windgalled, or broken 
 down. Such a stern test is money, so fearfully does 
 its coarse jingle jar upon all the music of flattery, 
 and make discord of all compliment. To such a pitch 
 is the process carried, that even pretty women, who 
 as wives were objects of admiration to despairing 
 and disappointed adorers, have become, by widow- 
 hood, very ordinary creatures, simply because they 
 are once more " in the market." 
 
 It is well for us that Heaven itself was not in the 
 Price current, or we might have begun to think lightly 
 of it. At all events we'd have higgled about the cost, 
 and tried to get there as cheaply as might be. 
 
 From the day that the Swan's Nest appeared in 
 the Dublin papers " to be let furnished, for the three 
 years of an unexpired term," Lendrick was besieged 
 by letters and applications. All the world apparently 
 wanted the place, but wanted it in some way or other 
 quite out of his power to accord. One insisted on 
 having it unfurnished, and for a much longer period 
 than he could give. Another desired more land, and 
 the right of shooting over several hundred additional 
 acres. A third would like the house and garden, but 
 would not burden himself with the lawn, and could 
 not see why Lendrick might not continue to hold the
 
 LAST DAYS. 143 
 
 meadowland, and come back from the Cape or any- 
 where else to mow tlie grass and rick it in due season. 
 
 A schoolmistress proposed he should 'build a dor- 
 mitory for thirty young ladies, and make the flower- 
 garden into a playground ; and a miller from Lime- 
 rick inquired whether he was willing to join in a suit 
 to establish a right of water-power by diverting a 
 stream from the Shannon through the dining-room 
 to turn an undershot wheel. 
 
 It was marvellous with what patience and courtesy 
 Lendrick replied to these and suchlike, politely as- 
 suring the writers how he regretted his inability to 
 meet their wishes, and modestly confessing that he 
 had neither the money nor the time to make his 
 house other than it was. 
 
 All these, however, were as nothing to his trials 
 when the day arrived when the house and grounds, 
 in the language of advertisement, were " on view," 
 and the world of the curious and idle were free to 
 invade the place, stroll at will through rooms and 
 gardens, comment and criticise not merely the objects 
 before them, but the taste and the fortunes, the habits 
 and the lives of those who had made this their home, 
 and these things part of their own natures. 
 
 In a half-jesting humour, but really to save Len- 
 drick from a mortification which to a nature timid and 
 sensitive as his would have been torture, Sir Brook 
 and Tom agreed to divide the labours of ciceroneship
 
 144 SIR BROOK FOSSBROOKE. 
 
 between them ; the former devoting his attentions to 
 the house and furniture, while Tom assumed the 
 charge of grounds and gardens. To complete the 
 arrangement, Lendrick and Lucy were banished to a 
 small summer-house, and strictly enjoined never to 
 venture abroad so long as the stranger horde overran 
 the territory. 
 
 " I declare, my dear, I almost think the remedy 
 worse than the disease," said Lendrick to his daughter, 
 as he paced with short feverish steps the narrow 
 limits of his prison-house. " This isolation here has 
 something secret, something that suggests shame 
 about it. I think I could almost rather face all the 
 remarks our visitors might make than sit down here 
 to fancy and brood over them." 
 
 " I suspect not, dearest papa ; I believe the plan 
 will spare us much that might pain us." 
 
 " After all, child, these people have a right to be 
 critical, and they are not bound to know by what 
 associations you and I are tied to that old garden- 
 seat, or that bookstand, and we ought to be able to 
 avoid showing them this." 
 
 "Perhaps we ought, papa; but could we do so? 
 that's the question." 
 
 " Surely the tradesman affects no such squeamish- 
 ness about what he offers for sale." 
 
 "True, papa; because none of his wares have 
 caught any clue to his identity. They have never
 
 LAST DAYS. 145 
 
 been his in the sense which makes possession 
 pleasure." 
 
 " I wish they would not laugh without there ; their 
 coarse laughter sounds to me so like vulgar ridicule. 
 I hardly thought all this would have made me so 
 irritable ; even the children's voices jar on my nerves." 
 
 He turned away his head, but her eyes followed 
 him, and two heavy tears stole slowly along her 
 cheek, and her lip quivered as she looked. 
 
 " There, they are going away," said he, listening ; 
 " I am better now." 
 
 " That's right, dearest papa ; I knew it was a mere 
 passing pang," said she, drawing her arm within his, 
 and walking along at his side. " How kind Sir 
 Brook is ! " 
 
 " How kind every one, we might say. Poor Mills 
 is like a brother, and Tobin too — I scarcely expected 
 so much heart from him. He gave me his old lan- 
 cet-case as a keepsake yesterday, and I declare his 
 voice trembled as he said good-bye." 
 
 " As for the poor people, I hear, papa, that one 
 would think they had lost their nearest and dearest. 
 Molly Dew says they were crying in her house this 
 morning over their breakfast as if it was a funeral." 
 
 " Is it not strange, Lucy, that what touches the 
 heart so painfully should help to heal the pang it 
 gives ? There is that in all this affection for us that 
 gladdens while it grieves. All — all are so kind to 
 
 VOL. L K
 
 146 SIR BROOK FOSSBROOKE. 
 
 US ! That young fellow — Trafford I think his name 
 is — he was waiting at the post for his letters this 
 morning when I came up, and it seems that Foss- 
 brooke had told him of my appointment — indiscreet 
 of him, for I would not wish it talked of ; but Traf- 
 ford turned to him and said, ' Ask Dr Lendrick, is 
 he decided about going/ and when he heard that I 
 was, he scarcely said good-bye, but jumped into a 
 cab, and drove off full speed. 
 
 " ' "What does that mean ? ' asked I. 
 
 " ' He was so fond of Tom,' said Fossbrooke, ' they 
 were never separate this last month or five weeks ; ' 
 so you see, darling, each of us has his sphere of love 
 and affection." 
 
 Lucy was crimson over face and neck, but never 
 spoke a word. Had she spoken it would have been, 
 perhaps, to corroborate Sir Brook, and to say. How 
 fond the young men were of each other. I do not 
 affirm this, I only hint that it is likely. Where 
 there are blanks in this narrative, the reader has as 
 much right to fill them as myself. 
 
 " Sir Brook," continued Lendrick, " thinks well of 
 the young man ; but for my own part I hardly like 
 to see Tom in close companionship with one so much 
 his superior in " fortune. He is easily led, and has 
 not yet learned that stern lesson in life, how to con- 
 fess that there are many things he has no pretension 
 to aspire to."
 
 LAST DAYS. 147 
 
 "Tom loves you too sincerely, papa, ever to do 
 that which would seriously grieve you." 
 
 " He would not deliberately — he would not in cold 
 blood, Lucy ; but young men when together have 
 not many moods of deliberation or cold blood. But 
 let us not speculate on trouble that may never come. 
 It is enough for the present that he and Trafford are 
 separated, if Trafford was even likely to lead him 
 into ways of extravagance." 
 
 "What's that! Isn't it Tom? He's laughing 
 heartily at something. Yes ; here he comes." 
 
 " You may come out — the last of them has just 
 driven off," cried Tom, knocking at the door, while 
 he continued to laugh on immoderately. 
 
 " What is it, Tom ? what are you laughing at ? " 
 
 " You should have seen it ; it's nothing to teU, 
 but it was wonderful to witness. I'U never forget 
 it as long as I live." 
 
 " But what was it ? " asked she, impatiently. 
 
 " I thought we had fully done with all our visitors 
 —and a rum. set they were, most of them, not think- 
 ing of taking the place, but come out of mere curio- 
 sity — when who should drive up with two postilions 
 and four spicy greys but Lady Drumcarran and a 
 large party, three horsemen following. I just cauglit 
 the word ' Excellency,' and found out from one of 
 the servants that a tall old man with white hair and 
 very heavy eyebrows was tlie Lord-Lieutenant. He
 
 148 SIR BROOK FOSSBROOKE. 
 
 stooped a good deal, and walked tenderly; and as 
 the Countess was most eager about the grounds and 
 the gardens, they parted company very soon, he 
 going into the house to sit down, while she prose- 
 cuted her inquiries without doors. 
 
 " I took him into the library ; we had a long chat 
 about fishing, and fish-curing, and the London mar- 
 kets, and flax, and national education, and land- 
 tenure, and suchlike. Of course I affected not to 
 know who he was, and I took the opportunity to 
 say scores of impertinences about the stupidity of 
 the Castle, and the sort of men they send over here 
 to govern us ; and he asked me if I was destined for 
 any career or profession, and I told him frankly that 
 whenever I took up anything I always was sure to 
 discover it was the one very thing that didn't suit 
 me, and as I made this unlucky discovery in law, 
 medicine, and the church, I had given up my college 
 career, and was now in a sort of interregnal period, 
 wondering what it was to be next. I didn't like to 
 own that the res angustce had anything to say to it. 
 It was no business of his to know about that. 
 
 "'You surely have friends able and willing to 
 suggest something that would fit you,' said he. ' Is 
 not the Chief Baron your grandfather ? ' 
 
 " ' Yes, and he might make me crier of his court, 
 but I think he has promised the reversion to his 
 butler. The fact is, I'd not do over well with any
 
 LAST DAYS. 149 
 
 fixed responsibilities attached to me. I'd ratlier be 
 a guerilla than serve in the regulars, and so I'll just 
 wait and see if something won't turn up in that 
 undisciplined force I'd like to serve with.' 
 
 " ' I'll give you my name/ said he, ' before we 
 part, and possibly I may know some one who might 
 be of use to you.' 
 
 "I thanked him coolly, and we talked of some- 
 thing else, when there came a short plump little 
 feUow, all beard and gold chains, to say that Lady 
 Drumcarran was waiting for him. 'Tell her I'm 
 coming,' said he ; ' and, Balfour,' he cried out, ' be- 
 fore you go away, give this gentleman my address, 
 and if he should call, take care that I see him.' 
 
 " Balfour eyed me and I eyed him, with, I take 
 it, pretty much the same result, which said plainly 
 enough, * You're not the man for me.' 
 
 "'Wliat in heaven's name is this?' cried the 
 Viceroy, as he got outside and saw Lady Drum- 
 carran at the head of a procession carrying plants, 
 slips, and flower-pots down to the carriage. 
 
 "'Her ladyship has made a raid amongst the 
 greeneries,' said Balfour, ' and tipped the head-gar- 
 dener, that tall fellow there with the yellow rose- 
 tree ; as the place is going to be sold, she thought 
 she might well do a little genteel pillage.' Curious 
 to see who our gardener could be, all the more that 
 he was said to be ' tall,' I went forward, and what
 
 150 SIR BROOK FOSSBROOKE. 
 
 do you think I saw ? Sir Brook, with a flower-pot 
 under one arm and a quantity of cuttings under the 
 other, walking a little after the Countess, who was 
 evidently giving him ample directions as to her in- 
 tentions. I could scarcely refrain from an outburst 
 of laughing, but I got away into the shrubbery and 
 watched the whole proceedings. I was too far off to 
 hear, but this much I saw. Sir Brook had deposited 
 his rose-tree and his slips on the rumble, and stood 
 beside the carriage with his hat off. Wlien his Ex- 
 cellency came up .a sudden movement took place in 
 the group, and the Viceroy, seeming to push his 
 way through the others, cried out something I could 
 not catch, and then grasped Sir Brook's hand with 
 both his own. All was tumult in a moment. My 
 lady, in evident confusion and shame — that much I 
 could see — ^^vas curtseying deeply to Sir Brook, who 
 seemed not to understand her apologies; at least 
 he appeared stately and courteous, as usual, and 
 not in the slightest degree put out or chagrined 
 by the incident. Though Lady Drumcarran was 
 profuse of her excuses, and most eager to make 
 amends for her mistake, the Viceroy took Sir Brook's 
 arm and led him off to a little distance, where they 
 talked together for a few moments. 
 
 " ' It's a promise, then, Fossbrooke — you promise 
 me!' cried he aloud, as he approached the car- 
 riage. . .
 
 LAST DAYS. 151 
 
 " ' Eely upon me,- — and witliin a week or ten days 
 at farthest/ said Sir Brook, as they drove away. 
 
 " I have not seen him since, and I scarcely know 
 if I shall be able to meet him without laughing." 
 
 " Here he comes," cried Lucy; " and take care, 
 Tom, that you do nothing that might offend him." 
 
 The caution was so far unnecessary that Sir Brook's 
 manner, as he drew near, had a certain stately dignity 
 that invited no raillery. 
 
 " You have been detained a long time a prisoner, 
 Dr Lendrick," said Fossbrooke, calmly; "but your 
 visitors were so charmed with all they saw, that they 
 lingered on, unwilling to take their leave." 
 
 " Tom tells me we had some of our county nota- 
 bilities — Lord and Lady Drumcarran, the Lacys, and 
 others," said Lendrick. 
 
 " Yes ; and the Lord-Lieutenant too, whom I used 
 to know at Christ Church. He would have been 
 well pleased to have met you. He told me your 
 father was the ablest and most brilliant talker he 
 ever knew.". 
 
 " Ah ! we are very unlike," said Lendrick, blushing 
 modestly. " Did he give any hint as to whether his 
 party are pleased or the reverse with my father's late 
 conduct?" 
 
 " He only said, ' I wish you knew him, Foss- 
 brooke ; I sincerely wish you knew him, if only to 
 assure him that he will meet far more generous
 
 152 SIR BROOK FOSSBROOKE. 
 
 treatment from us than from the Opposition.' He 
 added, that we were men to suit each other; and 
 this, of course, was a flattery for which I am very 
 grateful." 
 
 " And the tall man with the stoop was the Lord- 
 Lieutenant ? " asked Tom. " I passed half an hour or 
 more with him in the library, and he invited me to 
 call upon him, and told a young fellow, named Bal- 
 four, to give me his address, which he forgot to do.'' 
 
 " We can go together, if you have no objection ; 
 for I, too, have promised to pay my respects," said 
 Sir Brook. 
 
 Tom was delighted at the suggestion, but whispered 
 in his sister's ear, as they passed out into the garden, 
 " I thought I'd have burst my sides laughing when I 
 met him ; but it's the very last thing in my thoughts 
 now. I declare I'd as soon pull a tiger's whiskers as 
 venture on the smallest liberty with him." 
 
 " I think you are right, Tom," said she, squeezing 
 his arm affectionately, to show that she not alone 
 agreed with him, but was pleased that he had given 
 her the opportunity of doing so. 
 
 " I wonder is he telling the governor what hap- 
 pened this morning ? It can scarcely be that, though, 
 they look so grave." 
 
 " Papa seems agitated, too," said Lucy. 
 
 " I just caught Trafford's name as they passed. I 
 hope he's not saying anything against him. It is
 
 LAST DAYS. 153 
 
 not only that Lionel Trafford is as good a fellow as 
 ever lived, but that he fully believes Fossbrooke 
 likes him. I don't think he could be so false ; do 
 you, Lucy?" 
 
 " I'm certain he is not. There, papa is beckoning 
 to you ; he wants you ; " and Lucy turned hurriedly 
 away, anxious to conceal her emotion, for her cheeks 
 were burning, and her lips trembled with agitation.
 
 CHAPTEE XIY. 
 
 TOM CROSS-EXAMINES HIS SISTER. 
 
 It was decided on that evening that Sir Brook and 
 Tom should set out for Dublin the next morning. 
 Lucy knew no.t why this sudden determination had 
 been come to, and Tom, who never yet had kept a 
 secret from her, was now reserved and uncommuni- 
 cative. Nor was it merely that he held aloof his 
 confidence, but he was short and snappish in his 
 manner, as though she had someway vexed him, 
 and vexed him in some shape that he could not 
 openly speak of or resent. 
 
 This was very new to her from him, and yet how 
 was it ? She had not courage to ask for an explana- 
 tion. Tom was not exactly one of those people of 
 whom it was pleasant to ask explanations. AVhere 
 the matter to be explained might be one of delicacy, 
 he had a w^ay of abruptly blurting out the very thing 
 one would have desired might be kept back. Just 
 as an awkward surgeon will tear off the dressing,
 
 TOM CROSS-EXAMINES HIS SISTER. 155 
 
 and set a wound a-bleeding, would lie rudely destroy 
 tlie work of time in healing by a moment of rash 
 impatience. It was knowing this — knowing it well 
 — that deterred Lucy from asking what might lead to 
 something not over-agreeable to hear. 
 
 "Shall I pack your portmanteau, Tom?" asked 
 she. It was a task that always fell to her lot. 
 
 " No ; Nicholas can do it — any one can do it," 
 said he, as he mumbled with an unlit cigar between 
 his teeth. 
 
 " You used to say I always did it best, Tom — that 
 I never forgot anything," said she, caressingly. 
 
 " Perhaps I did — perhaps I thought so. Look 
 here, Lucy," said he, as though by an immense effort 
 he had got strength to say what he wanted, " I am 
 half-vexed with you, if not more than half." 
 
 "Vexed with me, Tom — vexed with me! and for 
 what?" 
 
 " I don't think that you need ask. I am inclined 
 to believe that you know perfectly well what I mean, 
 and what I would much rather not say, if you will 
 only let me." 
 
 " I do not," said she, slowly and deliberately. 
 
 "Do you mean to say, Lucy," said he, and his 
 manner was almost stern as he spoke, "that you 
 have no secrets from me? that you are as frank 
 and outspoken with me to-day as you were three 
 months ago?"
 
 156 SIR BROOK FOSSBROOKE. 
 
 " I do say so." 
 
 " Then, what's the meaning of this letter ? " cried 
 he, as, carried away by a burst of passion, he over- 
 stepped all the prudential reserve he had sworn to 
 himself to regard. " What does this mean 1" 
 
 " I know nothing of that letter, nor what it con- 
 tains," said she, blushing till her very brow became 
 crimson. 
 
 " I don't suppose you do, for though it is addressed 
 to you, the seal is unbroken ; but you know whose 
 handwriting it's in, and you know that you have had 
 others from the same quarter." 
 
 " I believe the writing is Mr Trafford's," said she, 
 as a deathlike paleness spread over her face, " because 
 he himself once asked me to read a letter from him 
 in the same handwriting." 
 
 "Which you did?" 
 
 " l!^o ; I refused. I handed the letter back to him 
 unopened, and said that, as I certainly should not 
 write to him without my father's knowledge and 
 permission, I would not read a letter from him with- 
 out the same." 
 
 " And what was the epistle, then, that the Vicar's 
 housekeeper handed him from you ?" 
 
 " That same letter I have spoken of. He left it 
 on my table, insisting and believing that on second 
 thoughts I would read it. He thought so because it 
 was not to me though addressed to me, but the copy
 
 TOM CROSS-EXAMINES HIS SISTER. 157 
 
 of a letter he had written to his mother, ahout me 
 certainly." Here she blushed deeply again. " As I 
 continued, however, of the same mind, determined 
 not to see what the letter contained, I re-enclosed it 
 and gave it to Mrs Brennan to hand to him." 
 
 " And all this you kept a secret from me ? " 
 
 " It was not my secret. It was his. It was his 
 till such time as he could speak of it to my father, 
 and this he told me had not yet come." 
 
 "Why not?" 
 
 " I never asked him that. I do not think, Tom," 
 said she, with much emotion, " it was such a ques- 
 tion as you would have had me ask." 
 
 " Do you love — come, darling Lucy, don't be angry 
 with me. I never meant to wound your feelings. 
 Don't sob that way, my dear, dear Lucy. You know 
 what a rough coarse fellow I am, but I'd rather die 
 than offend you. Why did you not tell me of all 
 this ? I never liked any one so well as Trafford, and 
 why leave me to the chance of misconstruing him ? 
 Wouldn't it have been the best way to have trusted 
 me as you always have ? " 
 
 " I don't see what there was to have confided to 
 you. Mr Trafford might, if he wished. I mean that 
 if there was a secret at all. I don't know what I 
 mean," cried she, covering her face with her hand- 
 kerchief, while a convulsive motion of her shoulders 
 showed how she was moved.
 
 158 , SIR BROOK FOSSBROOKE. 
 
 ''I am as glad as if I had got a thousand pounds, 
 to know you have been so right, so thoroughly right, 
 in all this, Lucy ; and I am glad, too, that Trafford 
 has done nothing to make me think less well of him. 
 Let's be friends — give me your hand, like a dear, 
 good girl, and forgive me if I have said what pained 
 you." 
 
 " I am not angry, Tom," said she, giving her hand, 
 but with her head still averted. 
 
 " God knows, it's not the time for us to fall out," 
 said he, with a shaking voice. " Going to separate 
 as we are, and when to be together again not so easy 
 to imagine." 
 
 '' You are surely going out with papa?" asked she, 
 eagerly. 
 
 " lN"o ; they say not." 
 
 "Who says not?" 
 
 " The governor himself — Sir Brook — old Mills — 
 everybody, in fact. They have held a committee of 
 the whole house on it. I think Nicholas was present 
 too ; and it has been decided that as I am very much 
 given to idleness, bitter beer, and cigars, I ought not 
 to be anywhere where these ingredients compose the 
 chief part of existence. Now the Cape is precisely 
 one of these places ; and if you abstract the idleness, 
 the bitter beer, and the tobacco, there is nothing left 
 but a little Hottentotism, which is neither pleasant 
 nor profitable. Voted, therefore, I am not to go to
 
 TOM CEOSS-EXAMINES HIS SISTEK. 159 
 
 the Cape. It is miicli easier, however, to open the 
 geography books, and show all the places I am unfit 
 for, than to hit upon the one that will suit me. 
 And so I am going up to Dublin to-morrow with Sir 
 Brook to consult— I don't well know whom, perhaps 
 a fortune-teller — what's to be done with me. All I 
 do know is, I am to see my grandfather, and to wait 
 on the Viceroy, and I don't anticipate that any of us 
 will derive much pleasure from either event." 
 
 " Oh, Tom ! what happiness it would be to me if 
 
 gTandpapa " She stopped, blushed, and tried in 
 
 vain to go on. 
 
 "Which is about the least likely thing in the 
 world, Lucy," said he, answering her unspoken sen- 
 tence. " I am just the sort of creature he couldn't 
 abide, not to add that, from all I have heard of him, 
 I'd rather take three years with hard labour at the 
 hulks than live with him. It will do very well with 
 you. You have patience, and a soft, forgiving dispo- 
 sition. You'll fancy yourself, besides, heaven knows 
 what of a heroine, for submitting to his atrocious 
 temper, and imagine slavery to be martyrdom. Now, 
 I couldn't. I'd let him understand that I was one 
 of the family, and had a born right to be as ill- 
 tempered, as selfish, and as unmannerly as any other 
 Lendrick." 
 
 " But if he should like you, Tom ? If you made a 
 favourable impression upon him when you met ? "
 
 160 SIR BROOK FOSSBROOKE. 
 
 " If I should, I think I'd go over to South Caro- 
 lina, and ask some one to buy me as a negro, 
 for I'd know in my heart it was aU I could be 
 fit for.'' 
 
 '' Oh ! my dear, dear Tom, I wish you would meet 
 him in a different spirit, if only for poor papa's sake. 
 You know what store he lays by grandpapa's affec- 
 tion." 
 
 " I see it, and it puzzles me. If any one should 
 continue to ill-treat me for five-and-twenty years, I'd 
 not think of beginning to forgive him till after fifty 
 more, and I'm not quite sure I'd succeed then. 
 
 " But you are to meet him, Tom," said she, hope- 
 fully. " I trust much to your meeting." 
 
 " That's more than I do, Lucy. Indeed, I'd not go 
 at aU except on the condition which I have made 
 with myself, to accept nothing from him. I had not 
 meant to tell you this ; but it has escaped me, and 
 can't be helped. Don't hang your head and pout 
 your lip over that bad boy brother Tom. I intend 
 to be as submissive and as humble in our interview 
 as if I was going to owe my life to him, just because 
 I want him to be very kind and gracious to you ; and 
 I'd not wish to give him any reason for saying harsh 
 things of me, which would hurt you to listen to. If 
 I only knew how — and I protest I do not — I'd even 
 try and make a favourable impression upon him; 
 for I'd like to be able to come and see you, Lucy,
 
 TOM CKOSS-EXAMINES HIS SISTER. 161 
 
 now and then, and it would be a sore blow to me if 
 he forbade me." 
 
 " You don't think I'd remain under his roof if he 
 should do so ? " asked she, indignantly. 
 
 " Not if you saw him turn me away — shutting the 
 door in my face ; but what scores of civil ways there 
 are of intimating that one is not welcome ! But why 
 imagine all these ? — none of them may happen ; and, 
 as Sir Brook says, the worst misfortunes of life are 
 those that never come to us ; and I, for one, am 
 determined to deal only with real, actual, present 
 enemies. Isn't he a rare old feUow? — don't you 
 like him, Lucy ? " 
 
 " I like him greatly." 
 
 " He loves you, Lucy — he told me so ; he said you 
 were so like a girl whose godfather he was, and that 
 he had loved her as if she were his own. Whether 
 she had died, or whether something had happened 
 that estranged them, I couldn't make out; but he 
 said you had raised up some old, half-dead embers 
 in his heart, and kindled a flame where he had 
 thought aU was to be cold for ever ; and the tears 
 came into his eyes, and that great deep voice of his 
 grew fainter and fainter, and something that sounded 
 like a sob stopped him. I always knew he was a 
 brave, stout-hearted, gallant fellow ; but that he 
 could feel like this I never imagined. I almost 
 think it was some girl he was going to be married to 
 
 VOL. I. L
 
 162 SIR BROOK FOSSBROOKE. 
 
 once that you must be so like. Don't you tliink 
 so?" 
 
 "I don't know; I cannot even guess/' said she, 
 slowly. 
 
 "It's not exactly the sort of nature where one 
 would expect to find much sentiment; but, as he 
 said one day, some old hearts are like old chateaux, 
 with strange old chambers in them that none have 
 traversed for years and years, and with all the old 
 furniture moth-eaten and crumbling, but standing 
 just where it used to be. I'd not wonder if it was 
 of himself he was speaking." 
 
 She remained silent and thoughtful, and he went 
 on, — " There's a deal of romance under that quaint, 
 stern exterior. What do you think he said this 
 morning? — 'Your father's heart is wrapped up in 
 this place, Tom ; let us set to work to make money 
 and buy it for him.' I did not believe he was seri- 
 ous, and I said some stupid nonsense about a diamond 
 necklace and earrings for you on the day of presen- 
 tation ; and he turned upoii me with a fierce look, 
 and in a voice trembling with anger said, ' Well, sir, 
 and whom would they become better ? Is it her 
 birth or her beauty would disparage them, if they 
 were the jewels of a crown?' I know I'll not 
 cross another whim of his in the same fashion 
 again; though he came to my room afterwards 
 •to make an apology for the tone in which he
 
 TOM CEOSS-EXAMINES HIS SISTER. 163 
 
 had spoken, and assured me it should never be 
 repeated." 
 
 " I hope you told him you had not felt offended." 
 *'I did more — I did at least what pleased him 
 more— I said I was delighted with that plan of his 
 about buying up the Nest, and that the very thought 
 gave a zest to any pursuit I might engage in ; and 
 so, Lucy, it is settled between us that if his Excel- 
 lency won't make me something with a fine salary 
 and large perquisites. Sir Brook and I are to set out, 
 I'm not very sure where, and we are to do, I'm not 
 quite certain what; but two such clever fellows, 
 uniting experience with energy, can't fail, and the 
 double event — I mean the estate and the diamonds 
 — are just as good as won already. Well, what do 
 you want, Nicholas?" cried Tom, as the grim old 
 man put his head inside the door and retired again, 
 mumbling something as he went. " Oh, I remember 
 it now ; he has been tormenting the governor all day 
 about getting him some place — some situation or 
 other, and the old rascal thinks we are the most 
 ungrateful wretches under the sun, to be so full of 
 our own affairs and so forgetful of his : we are cer- 
 tainly not likely to leave him unprovided for ; he 
 can't imagine that. Here he comes again. My 
 father is gone in to Killaloe, Nicholas ; but don't be 
 uneasy, he'll not forget you." 
 
 " Forgettin's one thing, blaster Tom, and remcm-
 
 164 SIR BROOK FOSSBROOKE. 
 
 berin' the right way is another," said Nicholas, 
 sternly. " I told him yesterday, and I repeated it 
 to-day, 1 won't go among them Hottentots." 
 
 " Has he asked you ? " 
 
 " Did he ask me ? " repeated the old man, leaning 
 forward and eyeing him fiercely — " did he ask me ? " 
 
 " My brother means, Nicholas, that papa couldn't 
 expect you to go so far away from your home and 
 your friends." 
 
 " And Where's my home and my friends ? " cried 
 the irascible old fellow ; " and I forty-eight years in 
 the family? Is that the way to have a home or 
 friends either ? " 
 
 "No, Tom, no — I entreat — I beg of you," said 
 Lucy, standing between her brother and the old 
 man, and placing her hand on Tom's lips; "you 
 know well that he can't help it." 
 
 " That's just it," cried Nicholas, catching the 
 words ; " I can't help it, I'm too old to help it. It 
 isn't after eight-and-forty years one ought to be look- 
 ing out for new sarvice." 
 
 " Papa hopes that grandpapa will have no objec- 
 tion to taking you, Nicholas ; he means to write 
 about it to-day ; but if there should be a difi&culty, 
 he has another place." 
 
 "Maybe I'm to list and be a sodger — faix it 
 wouldn't be much worse than going back to your 
 grandfather."
 
 TOM CKOSS-EXAMINES HIS SISTER. 165 
 
 " Why, you discontented old fool," burst in Tom, 
 "haven't you been teasing our souls out these ten 
 years back by your stories of the fine life you led in 
 the Chief Baron's house ? " 
 
 " The eatin' was better, and the drinkin' was 
 better," said Nicholas, resolutely. "Wherever the 
 devil it comes from, the small beer here bangs 
 Banagher ; but for the matter of temper he was one 
 of yourselves ! and by my sowl it's a family not 
 easily matched ! " 
 
 " I agree with you ; any other man than my father 
 would have pitched you neck and crop into the 
 Shannon years ago — I'll be shot if I wouldn't." 
 
 " Mind them words. What you said there is a 
 threat — it's what the law makes a constructive threat, 
 and we'll see what the Coorts say to it." 
 
 " I declare, Nicholas, you would provoke any one ; 
 you will let no one be your friend," said Lucy ; and 
 taking her brother's arm she led him away, while the 
 old man, watching them till they entered the shrub- 
 bery, seated himself leisurely in a deep arm-chair, 
 and wiped the perspiration from his forehead. " By 
 my conscience," muttered he, " it takes two years off 
 my life every day I have to keep yez in order."
 
 CHAPTEE XV. 
 
 MR HAIHE'S mission. 
 
 Although the Chief Baron had assured Haire that 
 his mission had no difficulty about it, that he'd find 
 her ladyship would receive him in a very courteous 
 spirit, and, finally, that "he'd -do the thing" admir- 
 ably, the unhappy little lawyer approached his task 
 with considerable misgivings, which culminated in 
 actual terror as he knocked at the door of the house 
 where Lady Lendrick resided in Merrion Square, and 
 sent up his name. 
 
 "The ladies are still in committee, sir," said a 
 bland-looking, usher-like personage, who, taking up 
 Haire's card from the salver, scanned the name with 
 a half supercilious look. 
 
 "In committee! ah, indeed, I was not aware," 
 stammered out Haire. " I suspect — that is — I have 
 reason to believe her ladyship is aware — I mean my 
 name is not unknown to Lady Lendrick — would you 
 kindly present my card ? "
 
 MR HAIEE's mission. 167 
 
 " Take it up, Bates," said the man in black, and 
 then turned away to address another person, for the 
 hall was crowded with people of various conditions 
 and ranks, and who showed in their air and manner 
 a something of anxiety, if not of impatience. 
 
 "Mr MacClean— Where's Mr MacClean?" cried a 
 man in livery, as he held forth a square-shaped letter. 
 " Is Mr MacClean there ? " 
 
 " Yes. I'm Mr MacClean," said a red-faced, fussy- 
 looking man. " I'm Mr George Henry MacClean of 
 41 Mount Street." 
 
 " Two tickets for Mr MacClean," said the usher, 
 handing him. the letter with a polite bow. 
 
 " Mr Nolan, Balls Bridge — does any one represent 
 Mr Nolan of BaUs Bridge ?" said the usher, haughtily. 
 
 " That's me," said a short man, who wiped the per- 
 spiration from his face with a red-spotted handker- 
 chief, as large as a small bed-quilt — " that's me." 
 
 "The references not satisfactory, Mr Nolan," said 
 the usher, reading from a paper in his hand. 
 
 " Not satisfactory ? — what do you mean ? Is Peter 
 Arkins, Esquire, of Clontarf, unsatisfactory ? Is Mr 
 Eyland of Abbey Street unsatisfactory ? " 
 
 " I am really, sir, unable to afford you the explana- 
 tion you desire. I am simply deputed by her lady- 
 ship to return the reply that I fiud written here. 
 The noise is really so great here, I can hear nothing. 
 Who are you asking for, Bates ? "
 
 168 SIR BROOK FOSSBROOKE. 
 
 " Mr Mortimer O'Hagan." 
 
 " He's gone away," cried a voice ; " he was here 
 since eleven o'clock." 
 
 " Application refused. Will some one tell Mr 
 O'Hagan his application is refused ? " said the usher, 
 austerely. 
 
 " Might I be bold enough to ask what is going 
 forward?" whispered Haire. 
 
 " Mr W. Haire, Ely Place," shouted out the man 
 in livery. " Card refused for want of a reference." 
 
 "You ought to have sent up two names — well- 
 known names, Mr Haire," said the usher, with a 
 politeness that seemed marked. "It's not too late 
 yet ; let me see," and he looked at his watch, " we 
 want a quarter to one ; be back here in half-an-hour. 
 Take a car — you'll find one at the door. Get your 
 names, and I'll see if I can't do it for you." 
 
 " I am afraid I don't understand you, and I am 
 sure you don't understand me. I came here by 
 
 appointment " The rest of the sentence was 
 
 lost by a considerable bustle and movement that 
 now ensued, for a number of ladies descended the 
 stairs, chatting and laughing freely ; while servants 
 rushed hither and thither, calling up carriages, or in- 
 quiring for others not yet come. The usher, franti- 
 cally pushing the crowd aside to clear a path for the 
 ladies, was profuse of apologies for the confusion ; 
 adding at the same time that " it was twice as bad
 
 MR HAIRE S MISSION. 169 
 
 an hour ago. There weren't less than two hundred 
 here this morning." 
 
 A number of little pleasantries passed as the bland 
 usher handed the ladies to their carriages ; and it 
 was evident by their laughter that his remarks were 
 deemed pungent and witty. Meanwhile the hall was 
 becoming deserted. The persons who had crowded 
 there, descending singly or in groups, went their 
 several ways, leaving Haire the only one behind. 
 " And now, sir," said the usher, " you see it's all over. 
 You wouldn't take my advice. They are all gone, 
 and it's the last meeting." 
 
 " Will you favour me so far as to say for what did 
 they meet ? What was the object of the gathering ?" 
 
 " I suppose, sir, you are not a reader of the morn- 
 ing papers?" 
 
 " Occasionally. Indeed I always glance at them." 
 
 "Well, sir, and has not your glance fallen upon 
 the announcement of the ball — the grand ball to be 
 given at the Eotundo for the orphan asylum called 
 the ' Eogues' Eedemptory,' at Eathmines, at the head 
 of whose patronesses stands my lady's name?" 
 
 Haire shook his head in negative. 
 
 "And have you not come like the rest with an 
 application for permission to attend the ball ? " 
 
 " No ; I have come to speak to Lady Lendrick, — 
 and by appointment too." 
 
 A faint but prolonged "Indeed!" expressed the
 
 170 SIR BROOK FOSSBROOKE. 
 
 uslier's astonishment, and lie turned and whispered 
 a few words to a footman at his side. He disappeared, 
 and returned in a moment to say that her ladyship 
 would see Mr Haire. 
 
 " I trust you will forgive me, sir," said Lady Len- 
 drick — a very large, very showy, and still handsome 
 woman — as she motioned him to be seated. " I got 
 your card when my head was so full of this tiresome 
 ball, and I made the absurd mistake of supposing you 
 came for tickets. You are, I think your note says, 
 an old friend of Mr Thomas Lendrick?" 
 
 " I am an old friend of his father's, madam ! The 
 Chief Baron and myself were schoolfellows." 
 
 " Yes, yes ; I have no doubt," said she, hurriedly ; 
 "but from your note — I have it here somewhere," 
 and she rummaged amongst a lot of papers that lit- 
 tered the table — " Your note gave me to understand 
 that your visit to me regarded Mr Thomas Lendrick, 
 and not the Chief Baron. It is possible, however, I 
 may have mistaken your meaning. I wish I could 
 find it. I laid it out of my hand a moment ago. Oh, 
 here it is ! now we shall see which of us is right," and 
 with a sort of triumph she opened the letter and read 
 aloud, slurring over the few commencing hues till 
 she came to " that I may explain to your ladyship 
 the circumstances by which Mr Thomas Lendrick's 
 home will for the present be broken up, and entreat 
 of you to extend to his daughter the same kind in-
 
 MR HAIRE S MISSION. 171 
 
 terest and favour you have so constantly extended to 
 her father." " Now, sir, I hope I may say that it is 
 not / have been mistaken. If I read this passage 
 aright, it bespeaks my consideration for a young lady 
 who will shortly need a home and a protectress." 
 
 " I suppose I expressed myself very ill. I mean, 
 madam, I take it, that in my endeavour not to employ 
 any abruptness, I may have fallen into some obscurity. 
 Shall I own, besides," added he, with a tone of half- 
 desperation in his voice, " that I had no fancy for this 
 mission of mine at all — that I undertook it wholly 
 against my will ? Baron Lendrick's broken health, 
 my old friendship for him, his insistance, and you 
 can understand what that is, eh ?" — ^he thought she 
 was about to speak ; but she only gave a faint equi- 
 vocal sort of smile, and he went on — " All these to- 
 gether overcame my scruples, and I agreed to come." 
 He paused here as though he had made the fullest 
 and most ample explanation, and that it was now her 
 turn to speak. " Well, sir," said she, " go on : I am 
 all ears for your communication." 
 
 " There it is : that's the whole of it, madam. You 
 are to understand distinctly that with the arrange- 
 ment itself I had no concern whatever. Baron Len- 
 drick never asked my advice : I never tendered it. 
 I'm not sure that I should have concurred with his 
 notions — but that's nothing to the purpose ; all that 
 I consented to was to come here, to tell you the thing
 
 172 SIR BROOK FOSSBROOKE. 
 
 is SO, and why it is so — there;" and with this he 
 wiped his forehead, for the exertion had heated and 
 fatigued him. 
 
 " I know I'm very dull, very slow of comprehen- 
 sion; and in compassion for this defect, will you 
 kindly make your explanation a little, a very little, 
 fuller ? What is it that is so ? " and she emphasised 
 the last word with a marked sarcasm in her tone. 
 
 " Oh, I can see that your ladyship may not quite 
 like it. There is no reason why you should like it — 
 all things considered ; but, after all, it may turn out 
 very well. If she suit him, if she can hit it off with 
 his temper — and she may — young folks have often 
 more forbearance than older ones — there's no saying 
 what it may lead to." 
 
 "Once for all, sir," said she, haughtily, for her 
 temper was sorely tried, " what is this thing which I 
 am not to like, and yet bound to bear?" 
 
 " I don't think I said that ; I trust I never said 
 your ladyship was bound to bear anything. So weU 
 as I can recaU the Chief Baron's words, — and, God 
 forgive me, but I wish I was — no matter what or 
 where — when I heard them, — this is the substance of 
 what he said : ' Tell her,' meaning your ladyship, — 
 ' tell her that, rightly understood, the presence of my 
 granddaughter as mistress of my house ' " 
 
 " What do you say, sir ? — is Miss Lendrick coming 
 to reside at the Priory V
 
 MR HAIRE S MISSION. 173 
 
 "Of course — what else have I been saying this 
 half-hour?" 
 
 " To take the position of lady of the house ?" said 
 she, not deigning to notice his question. 
 
 " Just so, madam." 
 
 " I declare, sir, bold as the step is," — she arose as 
 she spoke, and drew herself haughtily up, — " bold as 
 the step is, it is not half so bold as your own courage 
 in coming to tell of it. What the Chief Baron had 
 not the hardihood to communicate in writing, you 
 dare to deliver to me by word of mouth — you dare to 
 announce to me that my place, the station I ought to 
 fill, is to be occupied by another, and that whenever 
 I pass the threshold of the Priory, I come as the 
 guest of Lucy Lendrick ! I do hope, sir, I may attri- 
 bute to the confusion of your faculties — a confusion 
 of which this short interview has given me proof — 
 that you really never rightly apprehended the igno- 
 miny of the mission your friend intrusted to you." 
 
 "You're right there," said he, placing both his 
 hands on the side of his head ; " confusion is just the 
 name for it." 
 
 " Yes, sir ; but I apprehend you must have under- 
 taken this office in a calm moment, and let me ask 
 you how you could have lent yourself to such a task ? 
 You are aware, for the whole world is aware, that in 
 living apart from the Chief Baron I am yielding to a 
 necessity imposed by his horrible, his insuflferable
 
 174 SIR BROOK FOSSBROOKE. 
 
 temper ; now how long will this explanation be 
 valid, if my place, in any respect, should be occupied 
 by another ? The isolation in which he now lives, 
 his estrangement from the world, serve to show that 
 he has withdrawn from society, and accepted the 
 position of a recluse. Will this continue now ? will 
 these be the habits of the house with a young lady at 
 its head, free to indulge all the caprices of ignorant 
 girlhood ? I declare, sir, I wonder how a little con- 
 sideration for your friend might not have led you to 
 warn him against the indiscretion he was about to 
 commit. The slight to me',' said she, sarcastically, 
 and flushing deeply, " it was possible you might over- 
 look; but I scarcely see how you could have for- 
 gotten the stain that must attach to that ' large intel- 
 lect — that wise and truly great man.' I am quoting 
 a paragraph I read in the ' Post ' this morning, with 
 which, perhaps, you are familiar." 
 
 " I did not see it," said Haire, helplessly. 
 
 " I declare, sir, I was unjust enough to think you 
 wrote it: I thought no one short of him who had 
 come on your errand to-day could have been the 
 author." 
 
 " Well, I wish with all my heart I'd never come," 
 said he, with a melancholy gesture of his hands. 
 
 " I declare, sir, I am not surprised at your confes- 
 sion. I suppose you are not aware that in the very 
 moment adopted for this — this — this new establish-
 
 MR HAIRE's mission. 175 
 
 ment, there is something like studied insult to me. 
 It is only ten days ago I mentioned to the Chief 
 Baron that my son, Colonel Sewell, was coming back 
 from India on a sick leave. He has a wife and three 
 little children, and, like most soldiers, is not over 
 well off. I suggested that, as the Priory was a large 
 roomy house, with abundant space for many people 
 without in the slightest degree interfering with each 
 other, he should offer the Sewells to take them in. 
 I said nothing more — nothing about menage — no 
 details of any kind. I simply said : ^ Couldn't you 
 give the Sewells the rooms that look out on the back 
 lawn? l^obody ever enters them; even when you 
 receive in the summer evenings they are not opened. 
 It would be a great boon to an invalid to be housed 
 so quietly, so removed from all noise and bustle.' 
 And to mark how I intended no more, I added, ^ They 
 wouldn't bore you, nor need you ever see them unless 
 you wished for it.' And what was his reply ? ' Ma- 
 dam, I never liked soldiers. I'm not sure that his 
 young wife wouldn't be displeasing to me, and I 
 know that his children would be insufferable.' 
 
 "I said, 'Let me take the dear children then.' 
 ' Do, by all means, and their dear parents also,' he 
 broke in : ' I should be in despair if I thought I had 
 separated you.' Yes, sir, I give you his very words. 
 This wise and truly great man, or truly wise and 
 great— which is it? — had nothing more generous nor
 
 176 SIR BROOK FOSSBROOKE. 
 
 more courteous to say to me than a sarcasm and an 
 impertinence. Are you not proud of your friend ?" 
 
 ISTever was there a more unlucky peroration, from 
 the day when Lord Denman concluded an eloquent 
 defence of a queen's innocence by appealing to the 
 unhappy illustration which called forth the touching 
 words, "Let him that is without sin cast the first 
 stone at her." Never was there a more signal blun- 
 der than to ask this man to repudiate the friendship 
 which had formed the whole pride and glory of his 
 life. 
 
 " I should think I am proud of him, madam," said 
 he, rising and speaking with a boldness that amazed 
 even himself " I was proud to be his class-fellow 
 at school; I was proud to sit in the same division 
 with him in college — proud when he won his gold 
 medal and carried off his fellowship. It was a proud 
 day to me when I saw him take his seat on the 
 bench ; and my heart nearly burst with pride when 
 he placed me on his right hand at dinner, and told 
 the Benchers and the Bar that we had walked the 
 road of life together, and that the grasp of my hand 
 — he called it my honest hand — had been the ever- 
 present earnest of each success he had achieved in 
 his career. Yes, madam, I am very proud of him ; 
 and my heart must be cold indeed before I cease to 
 be proud of him." 
 
 "I declare, sir, you astonish, you amaze me. I
 
 MR HAIRE S MISSION. 177 
 
 was well aware how that truly great and wise man 
 had often inspired the eloquence of attack. Many- 
 have assailed — many have vituperated him ; but that 
 any one should have delivered a panegyric on the 
 inestimable value of his friendship ! his friendship of 
 all things ! — is what I was not prepared for." 
 
 Haire heard the ringing raillery of her laugh, he 
 was stung by he knew not what tortures of her scorn- 
 ful impertinence; bitter, bitiag words, very cruel 
 words too, fell over and around him like a sort of 
 hail ; they beat on his face and rattled over his head 
 and shoulders : he was conscious of a storm, and 
 conscious too that he sought neither shelter nor 
 defence, but only tried to fly before the hurricane, 
 whither he knew not. 
 
 How he quitted that room, descended the stairs, 
 and escaped from the house, he never was able to 
 recall. He was far away outside the city wandering 
 along through an unfrequented suburb ere he came 
 to his full consciousness, murmuring to himself ever 
 as he went — What a woman, what a woman ! what a 
 temper — ay, and what a tongue 1 
 
 Without any guidance of his own — without any 
 consciousness of it — he walked on and on, till he 
 found himself at the gate-lodge of the Priory ; a car- 
 riage was just passing in, and he stopped to ask 
 whose it was. It was the Chief Baron's granddaugh- 
 ter, who had arrived that morning by train. He 
 
 VOL. I. M
 
 178 SIR BEOOK FOSSBROOKE. 
 
 turned back when he heard this, and returned to 
 town. " Whether you like it or not, Lady Lendrick, 
 it is done now, and there's no good in carrying on the 
 issue after the verdict ; " and with this reflection, em- 
 bodying possibly as much wisdom as his whole career 
 had taught him, he hastened homeward, secretly 
 determining, if he possibly could, never to reveal 
 anything to the Chief Baron of his late interview 
 with Lady Lendrick.
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 SOREOWS AND PEOJECTS. 
 
 De Lendeick and his son still lingered at the Swan's 
 Nest after Lncy's departure for the Priory. Lendrick, 
 with many things to arrange and prepare for his 
 coining voyage, was still so overcome by the thought 
 of breaking up his home and parting from his chil- 
 dren, that he could not address his mind to anytliing 
 like business. He would wander about for hours 
 through the garden and the shrubberies, taking leave, 
 as he called it, of his dear plants and flowers, and 
 come back to the house distressed and miserable. 
 Often and often would he declare to Sir Brook, who 
 was his guest, that the struggle was too much for 
 him. " I never was a man of ardour or energy, and 
 it is not now, when I have passed the middle term 
 of life, that I am to hope for that spring and elasticity 
 which were denied to my youth. Better for me send 
 for Lucy, and stay where I am ; nowhere shall I be 
 so happy again." Then would come the sudden
 
 180 SIR BROOK FOSSBROOKE. 
 
 thought that all this was mere selfishness, that in 
 this life of inaction and indolence he was making 
 no provision for that dear girl he loved so well. 
 Wliatever hopes the reconciliation with his father 
 might lead to, would of course be utterly scattered to 
 the winds by an act so full of disobedience as this. 
 " It is true," thought he, " I may fail abroad as I 
 have failed at home. Success and I are scarcely on 
 speaking terms — but the grandfather cannot leave 
 the granddaughter whom he has taken from her 
 home, totally uncared and unprovided for." 
 
 As for young Tom, Sir Brook had pledged himself 
 to take care of him. It was a vague expression 
 enough ; it might mean anything, everything, or 
 nothing. Sir Brook Fossbrooke had certainly, in 
 worldly parlance, not taken very good care of him- 
 self — far from it ; he had squandered and made away 
 with two large estates and an immense sum in ready 
 money. It was true he had friends everywhere — 
 some of them very great people with abundant in- 
 fluence, and well able to help those they cared for ; 
 but Fossbrooke was not one of those who ask ; and 
 the world has not yet come to the millennial beati- 
 tude in which one's friends importune them with 
 inquiries how they are to be helped, what and where 
 they wish for. 
 
 Many a time in the course of country-house life — 
 at breakfast, as the post came in, and during the day.
 
 SORROWS AND PROJECTS. 181 
 
 as a messenger would deliver a telegram — some great 
 man would say, " There is a vacancy there — such a 
 one has died — so-and-so has retired. There's a thing 
 to suit you, Fossbrooke '' — and Sir Brook would smile, 
 say a word or two that implied nothing, and so would 
 end the matter. If " my Lord " ever retained any 
 memory of the circumstance some time after, it would 
 be that he had offered something to Fossbrooke who 
 wouldn't take it, didn't care for it. For so is it 
 throughout life ; the event which to one is the veri- 
 est trifle of the hour, is to another a fate and a for- 
 tune ; and then, great folk who lead lives of ease and 
 security are very prone to forget that humble men 
 have often a pride very disproportioned to their con- 
 dition, and are timidly averse to stretch out the hand 
 for what it is just possible it may not be intended 
 they should touch. 
 
 At all events, Fossbrooke went his way through 
 the world a mystery to many and a puzzle — some 
 averring that it was a shame to his friends in power 
 that he had " got nothing," others as stoutly declar- 
 ing that he was one whom no office would tempt, 
 nor would any place requite him for the loss of 
 liberty and independence. 
 
 He himself was well aware of each of these theo- 
 ries, but too proud to say a word to those who pro- 
 fessed either of them. If, however, he was too 
 haughty to ask for himself, he was by no means
 
 182 SIR BROOK FOSSBROOKE. 
 
 above being a suitor for his friends ; and many a 
 one owed to bis active solicitude tbe advancement 
 wbicb none stood more in need of tban himself. 
 
 " We shall make the Viceroy do something for us, 
 Tom," he would say. " Think over what it shall be 
 — for that's the invariable question — ^What is it you 
 want ? And it's better far to say, Make me an arch- 
 bishop, than have to own that you want anything, 
 and are, maybe, fit for nothing." 
 
 Though Lendrick was well disposed towards Foss- 
 brooke, and fully sensible of his manly honesty and 
 frankness, he could not help seeing that he was one 
 of those impulsive sanguine natures that gain no- 
 thing from experience beyond the gift of companion- 
 ship. They acquire all that can make them delight- 
 ful in society — boons they are — and especially to 
 those whose more prudent temperament inclines 
 them to employ their gifts more profitably. Scores 
 of these self-made men, rich to overflowing with all 
 that wealth could buy around them, would say. What 
 a happy fellow was Tossbrooke ! what a blessing it 
 was to have his nature, his spirits, buoyancy, and 
 suchlike — to be able to enjoy life as he did. Per- 
 haps they believed all that they said, too — who 
 knows ? When they made such speeches to him- 
 self, as they would at times, he heard them with the 
 haughty humility of one who hears himself praised 
 for that which the flatterer deems a thing too low
 
 S.OEROWS AND PROJECTS. 183 
 
 for envy. He well understood how cheaply others 
 estimated his wares, for they were a scrip that fig- 
 ured in no share-list, and never were quoted at a 
 premium. 
 
 Lendrick read him very correctly, and naturally 
 thought that a more practical and a more worldly 
 guide would have been better for Tom — some one to 
 hold him back, not to urge him forward ; some one to 
 whisper prudence, restraint, denial — not daring, and 
 dash, and indulgence. But somehow these flighty, 
 imaginative, speculative men have very often a won- 
 derful persuasiveness about them, and can give to 
 the wildest dreams a marvellous air of substance and 
 reality. A life so full of strange vicissitudes as 
 Fossbrooke's seemed a guarantee for any — no matter 
 what — turn of fortune. Hear him tell of where he 
 had been, what he had done, and with whom, and 
 you at once felt you were in presence of one to whom 
 no ordinary laws of worldly caution or prudence 
 applied. 
 
 That his life had compassed many failures and 
 few successes was plain enough. He never sought 
 to hide the fact. Indeed, he was candour itself in 
 his confessions, only that he accompanied them by 
 little explanations, showing the exact spot and mo- 
 ment in which he had lost the game. It was won- 
 derful what credit he seemed to derive from these 
 disclosures. It was like an honest trader showing
 
 184 SIR BROOK FOSSBROOKE. 
 
 his balance-sheet to prove that, but for the occur- 
 rence of such ills as no prudence could ward off, his 
 condition must have been one of prosperity. 
 
 Never did he say anything more truthful than 
 that "he had never cared for money." So long as 
 he had it he used it lavishly, thoughtlessly, very 
 often generously. When he ceased to have it the 
 want scarcely appeared to touch him personally. 
 Indeed, it was only when some necessity presented 
 itself to aid this one, or extricate that, he would 
 suddenly remember his impotence to be of use, and 
 then the sting of his poverty would sorely pain him. 
 
 Like all men who have suffered reverses, he had 
 to experience the different acceptance he met with 
 in his days of humble fortune from what greeted him 
 in his era of prosperity. If he felt this, none could 
 detect it. His bearing and manner betrayed nothing 
 of such consciousness. A very slight increase of 
 stateliness might possibly have marked him in his 
 poverty, and an air of more reserved dignity, which 
 showed itself in his manner to strangers. In all 
 other respects he was the same. 
 
 That such a character should have exercised a 
 great influence over a young man like Tom Lendrick 
 — ardent, impetuous, and desirous of adventure — was 
 not strange. 
 
 " We must make a fortune for Lucy, Tom," said 
 Sir Brook. " Your father's nature is too fine strung
 
 SOKEOWS AND PEOJECTS. 185 
 
 to be a money-maker, and she must be cared for." 
 This was a desire which he continued to utter day- 
 after day; and though Fossbrooke usually smoked 
 on after he had said it without any intimation as to 
 where, and when, and how this same fortune was to 
 be amassed, Tom Lendrick placed the most implicit 
 faith in the assurance that it would be done " some- 
 how." 
 
 One morning as Lendrick was walking with his 
 son in the garden, making, as he called it, his fare- 
 well visit to his tulips and moss-roses, he asked Tom 
 if any fixed plan had been decided on as to his future. 
 
 "We have got several, sir. The difficulty is the 
 choice. Sir Brook was at one time very full of buy- 
 ing a great tract in Donegal, and stocking it with all 
 sorts of wild animals. We began with deer, ante- 
 lopes, and chamois ; and last night we got to wolves, 
 bears, and a tiger. We were to have a most commo- 
 dious shooting-box, and invite parties to come and 
 sport, who, instead of going to Bohemia, the Rocky 
 Mountains, and to Africa, would find all their sava- 
 gery near home, and pay us splendidly for the pri- 
 vilege. 
 
 " There are some difficulties in the plan, it is true; 
 our beasts might not be easy to keep within bounds. 
 The jaguar might make an excursion into the market- 
 town ; the bear might eat a butcher. Sir Brook, 
 besides, doubts if ferx could be preserved under the
 
 186 SIR BROOK FOSSBROOKE. 
 
 game laws. He has sent a case to Brewster for his 
 opinion." 
 
 '' Don't tell me of such absurdities," said Lendrick, 
 trying to repress his quiet laugh. "I want you to 
 speak seriously and reasonably." 
 
 '' I assure you, sir, we have the whole details of 
 this on paper, even to the cost of the beasts, and the 
 pensions to the widows of the keepers that may be 
 devoured. Another plan that we had, and it looked 
 plausible enough too, was to take out a patent for 
 a wonderful medical antidote. As Sir Brook says, 
 there is nothing like a patent medicine to make a 
 man rich ; and by good luck he is possessed of the 
 materials for one. He has the secret for curing the 
 bite of the rattlesnake. He got it from a Tuscarora 
 Indian, who, I believe, was a sort of father-in-law to 
 him. Three applications of this to the wound have 
 never been known to fail." 
 
 " But we are not infested with rattlesnakes, Tom." 
 
 " That's true, sir. We thought of that, and decided 
 that we shauld alter the prospectus of our Company, 
 and we have called it ' The antidote to an evil of stu- 
 pendous magnitude and daily recurrence.' 
 
 "A new method of flotation in water, by inflat- 
 ing the cellular membrane to produce buoyancy ; a 
 translation of the historical plays of Shakespeare 
 into Tonga, for the interesting inhabitants of those 
 islands; artificial rainfall, by means of the voltaic
 
 SORROWS AND PROJECTS. 187 
 
 battery : these are a few of his jottings down in a 
 little book in manuscript he has entitled ' Things to 
 be Done/ 
 
 " His favourite project, however, is one he has re- 
 volved for years in his mind, and he is fully satisfied 
 that it contains the germ of boundless wealth. It 
 has been shown, he says, that in the smoke issuing 
 from the chimneys of great smelting furnaces, par- 
 ticles of subtilised metal are carried away to the 
 amount of thousands of pounds sterling : not merely 
 is the quantity great, but the quality, as might be 
 inferred, is of the most valuable and precious kind. 
 To arrest and precipitate this waste is his project, 
 and he has been for years making experiments to 
 this end. He has at length, he believes, arrived at 
 the long-sought-for problem ; and as he possesses a 
 lead-mine in the island of Sardinia, he means that 
 we should set out there, and at once begin opera- 
 tions." 
 
 Dr Lendrick shook his head gravely as he listened ; 
 indeed, Tom's manner in detailing Sir Brook's pro- 
 jects was little calculated to inspire serious confi- 
 dence. 
 
 " I know, father," cried he, " what you mean. I 
 know well how wild and flighty these things appear ; 
 but if you had only heard them from him — had you 
 but listened to his voice, and heard him speak of his 
 own doubts and fears — how he canvasses, not merely
 
 188 SIR BROOK FOSSBROOKE. 
 
 the value of his project, but what the world will say 
 of it, and of him — how modestly he rates himself — 
 how free of all the cant of the discoverer he is — how 
 simply he enters into explanations — how free to own 
 the difficulties that bar success, — I say, if you had 
 experienced these, I feel sure you would not escape 
 from him without catching some of that malady of 
 speculation which has so long beset him. 'Nor is one 
 less disposed to trust him that he makes no parade 
 of these things. Indeed, they are his deepest, most 
 inviolable secrets. In his intercourse with the world, 
 no one has ever heard him allude to one of these pro- 
 jects, and I have given him my solemn pledge not to 
 speak of them, save to you." 
 
 " It is a reason to think better of the man, Tom, 
 but not to put more faith in the discoveries." 
 
 " 1 believe I take the man and his work together ; 
 at all events, when I am along with him, and listen- 
 ing to him, he carries me away captive, and I am 
 ready to embark in any enterprise he suggests. Here 
 he comes, with two letters, I see, in his hand. Did 
 you ever see a man less like a visionary, father ? Is 
 not every trait of his marked with thought and strug- 
 gle ? " This was not the way Tom's father read Foss- 
 brooke, but there was no time to discuss the point 
 further. 
 
 "A letter for each of you," said Sir Brook, 
 handing them ; and then taking out a cigar, he
 
 SOEROWS AND PROJECTS. 189 
 
 strolled down an alley, while tliey were engaged in 
 reading. 
 
 "We have got a tenant at last," said Lendrick. 
 " The Dublin house-agent has found some one who 
 will take the place as it stands ; and now, to think 
 of my voyage."
 
 CHAPTEE XYIL 
 
 A LUNCHEON AT THE PEIOEY. 
 
 It was well for poor Lendrick that lie was not to 
 witness the great change which, in a few short weeks, 
 had been effected in his once home. So complete, 
 indeed, was the transformation, there was but very- 
 little left beyond the natural outline of the scenery 
 to remind one of that lovely nook in which the taste- 
 ful cottage nestled. The conservatory had been con- 
 verted into a dining-room ; the former dinner-room 
 being fitted up for a billiard-room. The Swiss cow- 
 house, a pretty little conceit, on which Lendrick had 
 lavished some money and more time, was turned into 
 a stable, with three loose-boxes ; and the neat lawn, 
 whose velvet sward was scarce less beautiful than 
 the glittering flower-beds that studded it, was ruth- 
 lessly cut up into a racecourse, with hurdles and 
 fences and double ditches, to represent a stiff country, 
 and offer all the features of a steeple-chase. 
 
 It needed not the "assurance of Mr Kimball, the
 
 A LUNCHEON AT THE PEIORY. 191 
 
 house- agent, to proclaim that liis client was . very 
 unlike the last occupant of the place. " He was no 
 recluse, no wretched misanthropist, hiding his dis- 
 content amongst shrubs and forcing-beds ; he was a 
 man of taste and refinement, with knowledge of life 
 and its requirements. He would be an acquisition 
 to any neighbourhood." 
 
 Now, the last phrase — and he invariably made it 
 his peroration — has a very wide and sweeping accep- 
 tation. It appeals to the neighbourhood with all the 
 charms that pertain to social intercourse ; a guest the 
 more and a host the more are no small claims in small 
 places. It appeals to the Parson, as another fountain 
 from which to draw draughts of benevolence. To the 
 Doctor it whispers fees and familiar dinners. Galen 
 knows that the luckiest of men are not exempt from 
 human ills, and that gout comes as a frequent guest 
 where the cook is good and the wine tempting ; and 
 the Biftcher himself revels in the thought of a " good 
 family " that consumes sirloins and forestalls sweet- 
 breads. 
 
 It was somewhat trying to young Tom Lendrick, 
 who had gone down to the Nest to fetch away some 
 remnants of fishing-tackle he had left there, to hear 
 these glowing anticipations of the new-comer, so 
 evidently placed in contrast with the quiet and in- 
 expensive life his father had led. How unlike were 
 his father, and this " acquisition to any neighbour-
 
 192 SIR BROOK FOSSBROOKE. 
 
 hood," was impressed upon him at any moment ! 
 How could a life of unobtrusive kindness, of those 
 daily ministerings to poor men's wants, compete with 
 the glitter and display which were to adorn a neigh- 
 bourhood ? 
 
 Already were people beginning to talk of Lendrick 
 as odd, eccentric, peculiar; to set down his finest 
 qualities as strange traits of a strange temperament, 
 and rather, on the whole, to give themselves credit 
 for the patience and forbearance which they had 
 shown to one who, after all, was " simply an egotist." 
 
 Yes, such are not unfrequent judgments in this 
 same world of ours ; and if you would have men's 
 suffrages for the good you do, take care that you do 
 it conventionally. Be in all things like those around 
 you ; and if there be a great man in your vicinity, 
 whenever a doubt arises in your mind as to any 
 course of action, do as you may imagine he might do. 
 
 Young Lendrick came away not a little disgusted 
 with this taste of human fickleness. The sight of 
 their old home changed even to desecration was bad 
 enough, but this cold ingratitude was worse. 
 
 Had he gone into the cabins of the poor, had he 
 visited the humble dwellings where his father's 
 generous devotion had brought him face to face with 
 famine and fever, he would have heard much to 
 redress the balance of these opinions. He would 
 have heard those warm praises that come from sor-
 
 A LUNCHEON AT THE PRIORY. 193 
 
 row-stricken hearts, the wail of the friendless and 
 forlorn. Tom heard not these, and he returned to 
 town with a feeling of anger and resentment against 
 the world he had never known before. 
 
 " How absurd it is in old Fossbrooke," thought he, 
 " to go on saying money cannot do this, that, and 
 t'other! Why, it can do everything. It does not 
 alone make a man great, powerful, and influential, 
 but it gains him the praise of being good and kind 
 and generous. Look at my poor father, who never 
 had a thought but for others, who postponed himself 
 to all around him ; and yet here is some one, whose 
 very name is unknown, more eagerly looked for, more 
 ardently desired, than would he be were it to be 
 announced to-morrow he was coming back to live 
 amongst them. What nonsense it is to say, that the 
 world cares for any qualities save those it can utilise ! 
 and I am only amazed how a man could have seen 
 so much of life as Sir Brook and gained so little by 
 his experience." 
 
 It was in this mood he got back to the little lodg- 
 ing in a humble suburb called Cullen's Wood, where 
 Sir Brook awaited him. It is not impossible that 
 the disparities of temperament in this world are just 
 as beneficial, just as grateful, as are the boundless 
 variety and change we find in nature. To Tom Len- 
 drick's depression, almost disgust with life. Sir Brook 
 brought that bright, hopeful, happy spirit, which 
 
 VOL. 1. If
 
 J94 . SIR BROOK FOSSBROOKE. 
 
 knew how to throw sunlight on every path to be 
 travelled. 
 
 He had received good news, or what he thought 
 was good news, from Sardinia. A new vein of ore 
 had been struck — very "fat" ore they called it — 
 some eighty-odd per cent, and a fair promise of silver 
 in it. "They ask me for thirty thousand francs, 
 though, Tom," said he, with a smile ; " they might 
 as well have written ' pounds ' when they were about 
 it. They want to repair the engine and erect a new 
 crane. They say, too, the chains are worn and unsafe 
 — a thing to be looked to, or we shall have some 
 accidents. In fact, they need fully double what they 
 ask for ; and seeing how impossible was the perform- 
 ance, I am astonished at their modesty." 
 
 " And what do you mean to do, sir ? " asked Tom; 
 bluntly. 
 
 " I have been thinking of two courses ; my first 
 thought was to make a formal conveyance of the 
 Mine to you and your sister, for your joint use and 
 benefit. This done, and I standing aloof from all 
 possible interest in it, I bethought me of a loan to 
 be raised on the security of the property — not pub- 
 licly, not generally, but amongst your father's friends 
 and well-wishers — beginning with the neighbourhood 
 where he has lived so long, and around which he has 
 sowed the seeds of such benefits as needs must ripen 
 in gratitude,"
 
 A LUNCHEON AT THE PEIOKY. 195 
 
 ' "Indulge no delusions on that score, sir. There is 
 not a man in the county, except old Mills the vicar 
 perhaps, has a good word for us ; and as to going to 
 one of them for assistance, I'd rather sweep a cross- 
 ing. You shake your head, Sir Brook, and you smile 
 at my passionate denunciation ; but it is true, every 
 word of it. I heard, in the few hours I spent there, 
 scores of stories of my poor father's eccentricity — his 
 forgetfulness, his absence, and what not — but never 
 a syllable of his noble liberality, his self-sacrifice, or 
 his gentleness." 
 
 " My dear Tom," said the old man, solemnly, " when 
 you have lived to one-half my age you will discover 
 that the world is not so much cursed with ill-nature 
 as with levity, and that when men talk disparagingly 
 of their fellows, they do so rather to seem witty than 
 to be just. There was not, perhaps, one of those who 
 tried to raise a laugh at your father's oddities, or 
 who assumed to be droU at his expense, who would 
 not in a serious mood have conceded to him every 
 good and great trait of his nature. The first step 
 in worldly knowledge is to rise above all considera- 
 tion of light gossip. Take my word for it, we often 
 confirm men in wrong thinking by opposition, who, 
 if left to themselves and their own hearts, would re- 
 view their judgments, and even retract them." 
 
 Tom took a hasty turn up and down the room ; a 
 ready reply was on his lip, indeed it was with dif-
 
 196 SIR BROOK FOSSBROOKE. 
 
 ficulty he repressed it, but he did so, and stood in 
 seeming acquiescence to what he had heard. At last 
 he said, " And the other plan, Sir Brook — what was 
 that?" 
 
 "Perhaps a more likely one, Tom," said the old 
 man, cheerfully. " It was to apply directly to your 
 grandfather, a man whose great intelligence would 
 enable him to examine a project with whose details 
 he had not ever before versed himself, and ask whe- 
 ther he would not make the advance we require on 
 mortgage or otherwise." 
 
 " I don't think I'd like to ask him," said Tom, with 
 a grim smile. 
 
 ''The proposal could come from me," said Sir 
 Brook, proudly, " if he would graciously accord me 
 an interview." 
 
 Tom turned away to hide a smile, for he thought, 
 if such a meeting were to take place, what he would 
 give to be an unseen witness of it : to watch the 
 duel between antagonists so different, and whose 
 weapons were so unlike. 
 
 "My sister knows him better than any of us," said 
 Tom at last ; " might I consult her as to the likeli- 
 hood of any success with him ?" 
 
 " By all means ; it is what I would have myself 
 advised." 
 
 " I will do so then to-day. I ought to have gone 
 to see her yesterday; but I wiU go to-day, and re-
 
 A LUNCHEON AT THE PEIORY. 197 
 
 port progress when I come back. I have a long 
 budget for her/' added he, with a sigh — " a catalogue 
 of all the things I am not going to do. I am not 
 going to be a medallist, nor win a fellowship, nor 
 even be a doctor; it will, however, give me great 
 courage if I can say, I'll be a miner." 
 
 Tom Lendrick was right when he said he should 
 have gone to see his sister on the day before, though 
 he was not fully aware how right. The Chief Baron, 
 in laying down a few rules for Lucy's guidance, made 
 a point of insisting that she should only receive visi- 
 tors on one day of the week; and in this regulation 
 he included even her brother. So averse was the old 
 man to be exposed to even a passing meeting with 
 strangers, that on these Tuesdays he either kept his 
 room or retired to a little garden of which he kept 
 the key, and from whose precincts all were rigorously 
 excluded. 
 
 Well knowing her brother's impatience of anything 
 like restricted liberty, and how rapidly he would 
 connect such an injunction as this with a life of ser- 
 vitude and endurance, Lucy took care to make the 
 time of receiving him appear a matter of her own 
 choice and convenience, and at the time of parting 
 would say, " Good-bye till Tuesday, Tom ; don't for- 
 get Tuesday, for we shall be sure to be alone, and to 
 ourselves." He the more easily believed this, that 
 on these same Tuesdays the whole place seemed de-
 
 W . SIR BROOK FOSSBROOKE. 
 
 serted and desolate. The grave -looking man in 
 black, who preceded him up the stairs, ushered him 
 along a corridor, and finally announced him, awaited 
 him like a piece of machinery, repeating every move- 
 ment and gesture with an unbroken uniformity, and 
 giving him to understand that not only his comiag 
 was expected, but all the details of his reception had 
 been carefully prescribed and determined on. 
 , " As I follow that fellow along the passage, Lucy," 
 said Tom, one day, " I can't help thinking that I ex- 
 perience every sensation of a man going to be hanged 
 — his solemn face, his measured tread, the silence, and 
 the gloom — only needing pinioned arms to make the 
 illusion perfect." 
 
 " Tie them around me, dearest Tom," said she, 
 laughing, and drawing him to a seat beside her on 
 the sofa; " and remember," added she, " you have a 
 long day. Your sentence will not come off for an- 
 other week ;" and thus jestingly did she contrive to 
 time his coming without ever letting him know the 
 restrictions that defined his visits. 
 
 Now, the day before this conversation between Sii- 
 Brook and Tom took place, being a Tuesday, Lucy 
 had watched long and anxiously for his coming. She 
 knew he had gone down to Kill aloe on the preceding 
 Saturday, but he had assured her he would be back 
 and be with her by Tuesday. Lucy's life was far from 
 unhappy, but it was one of unbroken uniformity, and
 
 A LUNCHEON AT THE PKIORY. 359 
 
 the one sole glimpse of society was that meeting with 
 her brother, whose wayward thoughts and capricious 
 notions imparted to all he said a something striking 
 and amusing. He usually told her how his week 
 had been passed — where he had been, and with whom 
 ■ — and she had learned to know his companions, and 
 ask; after them by name. Her chief interest was, 
 however, about Sir Brook, from whom Tom usually 
 brought a few lines, but always in an unsealed en- 
 velope, inscribed, "By the favour of Mr Lendrick, 
 
 How often would Tom quiz her about the respect- 
 ful devotion of her old admirer; and jestingly ask her 
 if she could consenl to marry him ? "I know he'll 
 ask you the question one of these days, Lucy, and it's 
 your own fault if you give him such encouragement 
 as may mislead him." And then they would talk 
 over the romance of the old man's nature, wonder- 
 ing whether the real world would be rendered more 
 tolerable or the reverse by that ideal tone which so 
 imaginative a temperament could give it. "Is it not 
 strange," said Tom, one day, " that I can see all the 
 weakness of his character wherever my own interests 
 do not come ? but the moment he presents before me 
 some bright picture of a splendid future, a great 
 name to achieve, a great fortune to make, that 
 moment he takes me captive, and I regard him 
 not as a visionary or a dreamer, but as a man
 
 200 SIR BKOOK FOSSBROOKE. 
 
 of consummate shrewdness and great knowledge of 
 life." 
 
 " In this you resemble Sancho Panza, Tom," said 
 she, laughing. " He had little faith in his master's 
 chivalry, but he implicitly believed in the island he 
 was to rule over;" and from that day forward she 
 called her brother Sancho and Sir Brook the Don. 
 
 On the day after that on which Tom's visit should 
 have been but was not paid, Lucy sat at luncheon 
 with her grandfather in a small breakfast-room which 
 opened on the lawn. The old Judge was in unusual 
 spirits; he had just received an address from the Bar, 
 congratulating him on his recovery, and expressing 
 hope that he might be soon again seen on that Bench 
 he had so much ornamented by his eloquence and 
 his wisdom. The newspapers, too, with a fickleness 
 that seems their most invariable feature, spoke most 
 flatteringly of his services, and placed his name be- 
 side those who had conferred highest honour on the 
 judgeship. 
 
 "It is neatly worded, Lucy," said the old man, 
 taking up the paper on which the address was writ- 
 ten ; " and the passage that compares me with Mans- 
 field is able as well as true. Both Mansfield and 
 myself understood how there stands above all written 
 law that higher, greater, grander law, that is based 
 in the heart of all humanity, in the hope of an eter- 
 nal justice, and soars above every technicality, by the
 
 A LUNCHEON AT THE PRIORY. 201 
 
 intense desire of truth. It would have been, how- 
 ever, no more than fair to have added that, to an in- 
 tellect the equal of Mansfield, I brought a temper 
 which Mansfield had not, and a manner which, if 
 found in the courts of royalty, is seldom met with 
 on the bench. I do not quite like that phrase, ' the 
 rapid and unerring glance of Erskine.' Erskine was 
 brilliant for a Scotchman, but a brilliant Scotchman 
 is but a third-rate Irishman. They who penned this 
 might have known as much. I am better pleased 
 with the words, ' the noble dignity of Lord Eldon.' 
 There, my child, there, they indeed have hit upon a 
 characteristic. In Eldon nature seemed to have 
 created the judicial element in a high degree. It 
 would be the vulgarity of modesty to pretend not 
 to recognise in my own temperament a like organi- 
 sation. 
 
 " May I read you, Lucy, the few words in which 
 I mean to reply to this courteous address. Will it 
 bore you, my dear ? " 
 
 " On the contrary, sir, I shall feel myself honoured 
 as well as interested." 
 
 " Sit where you are, then, and I will retire to the 
 far corner of the room. You shall judge if my voice 
 and delivery be equal to the effort ; for I mean to 
 return my thanks in person, Lucy. I mean to add 
 the force of my presence to the vigour of my senti- 
 ments. I have bethought me of inviting those who
 
 202 .; SIR BROOK FOSSBROOKE. 
 
 have signed this document to luncheon here ; and it 
 may probably be in the large drawing-room that I 
 shall deliver this reply. If not, it may possibly be 
 in my court before rising — I have not fully deter- 
 mined." So saying, he arose, and with feeble steps 
 — assisting himself as he went by the table, and then 
 grasping a chair — he moved slowly across the room. 
 She knew him too well to dare to offer her arm, or 
 appear in any way to perceive his debility. That he 
 felt, and felt bitterly, " the curse of old age," as he 
 once profanely called it, might be marked in the 
 firm compression of his lips and the stern frown that 
 settled on him, while, as he sank into a seat, a sad 
 weary sigh declared the utter exhaustion -that over- 
 came him. 
 
 It was not till after some minutes that he rallied 
 sufiiciently to unroll his manuscript and adjust his 
 spectacles. The stillness in the room was now per- 
 fect ; not a sound was heard save the faint hum of a 
 bee which had strayed into the room and was vaguely 
 floating about to find an exit. Lucy sat in an atti- 
 tude of patient attention — her hands crossed before 
 her, and her eyes slightly, downcast. 
 
 A faint low cough, and he began, but in a voice 
 tremulous and faint, " Mr Chief Sergeant, and Gentle- 
 men of the Bar " — do you hear me, Lucy ? " 
 
 " Yes, sir, I hear you." 
 
 " I will try to be more audible ; I will rest for a
 
 A LUNCHEON AT THE PRIORY. 203 
 
 moment." He laid his paper on liis knees, closed 
 his eyes, and sat immovable for some seconds. 
 
 It was at this moment, when to the Intense still- 
 ness was added a sense of expectancy, the honey- 
 suckle that sjrew across the window moved, the frail 
 branches gave way, and a merry voice called out, — 
 '' Scene the first : a young lady discovered at lun- 
 cheon!" and with a spring Tom Lendrick bounced 
 into the room, and, ere her cry of alarm had ended, 
 was clasping his sister in his arms. 
 
 " Oh, Tom, dearest Tom, why to-day ? Grand- 
 papa — grandpapa is here," sighed she, rather than 
 whispered, in his ear. 
 
 The young man started back, more struck by the 
 emotion she had shown than by her words, and the 
 Chief Baron advanced towards him with a manner 
 of blended courtesy and dignity, saying, " I am glad 
 to know you. Your sister's brother must be very 
 welcome to me." 
 
 " I wish I could make a proper excuse for this 
 mode of entry, sir. First of all, I thought Lucy was 
 alone, and secondly " 
 
 " Never mind the second plea ; I submit to a ver- 
 dict on the first," said the Judge, smiling. 
 
 " Tom forgot, it was Tuesday was his day," began 
 Lucy. 
 
 " I have no day ; days are all alike to me, Lucy. 
 My occupations of Monday could be transferred to a
 
 204 SIE BEOOK FOSSBROOKE. 
 
 Saturday, or if need be postponed indefinitely be- 
 yond it/' 
 
 " The glorious leisure of the fortunate/' said the 
 Judge, with a peculiar smile. 
 
 " Or the vacuity of the unlucky, possibly," said 
 Tom, with an easy laugh. 
 
 " At all events, young gentleman, you carry your 
 load jauntily." 
 
 " One reason is, perhaps, that I never knew it was 
 a load. I have always paraded in heavy march- 
 ing order, so that I don't mind the weight of my 
 pack." 
 
 For the first time did the old man's features relax 
 into a look of kindly meaning. To find the youth 
 not merely equal to appreciate a figure of speech, but 
 able to carry on the illustration, seemed so to identify 
 him with his own blood and kindred that the old 
 Judge felt himself instinctively drawn towards him. 
 
 " Lucy, help your brother to something ; there 
 was an excellent curry there a while ago — if it be 
 not cold." 
 
 " I have set my affections on that cold beef. It 
 seems to me an age since I have seen a real 
 sirloin.'^ 
 
 A slight twitch crossed the Judge's face — a pang 
 he felt at what might be an insinuated reproach at 
 his inhospitality ; and he said, in a tone of almost 
 apology, " We see no one — absolutely no one — here.
 
 A LUNCHEON AT THE PEIORY. 205 
 
 Lucy resigns herself to the companionship of a very 
 dreary old man whom all else have forgotten." 
 
 ''Don't say so, grandpapa, on the day when such 
 a testimony of esteem and affection reaches you." 
 
 Young Lendrick looked up from his plate, turning 
 his eyes first towards his sister, then towards his 
 grandfather ; his glance was so palpably an interro- 
 gatory, there was no mistaking it. Perhaps the old 
 man's first impulse was not to reply ; but his cour- 
 tesy or his vanity, or a blending of both, carried the 
 day, and he said, in a voice of much feeling, " Your 
 sister refers to an address I have just received — an 
 address which the Irish Bar have deemed proper to 
 transmit to me with their congratulations on my re- 
 covery. It is as gratifying, it is as flattering, as she 
 says. My brethren have shown that they can rise 
 above all consideration of sect or party in tendering 
 their esteem to a man whom no administration has 
 ever been able to convert into a partisan." 
 
 " But you have always been a Whig, sir, haven't 
 you ? " said Tom, bluntly. 
 
 *' I have been a Whig, sir, in the sense that a King 
 is a Eoyalist," said the old man, haughtily ; and 
 though Tom felt sorely provoked to reply to this pre- 
 tentious declaration, he only gave a wicked glance 
 at his sister, and drank off his wine. 
 
 ** It was at the moment of your unexpected ap- 
 pearance," continued the Judge, " that I was discuss-
 
 206 SIR BKOOK FOSSBROOKE. ' 
 
 ing with your sister, whether my reply to this com- 
 pliment would come better if delivered here, or from 
 my place on the bench." 
 
 " I'd say from the bench," said Tom, as he helped 
 himself to another slice of beef. 
 
 The old man gave a short cough, with a start. 
 The audacity of tendering advice so freely and posi- 
 tively overcame him, and his colour, faint indeed, 
 rose to his withered cheek, and his eye glittered as 
 he said, " Might I have the benefit of hearing the 
 reasons which have led you to this opinion ? " 
 
 " First of all," said Tom, in a careless off-hand way, 
 " I take it the thing would have more — what shall 
 I say ? — dignity ; secondly, the men who have signed 
 the address might feel they were treated with more 
 consideration ; and, lastly — it's not a very good rea- 
 son, but I am bound to own it — I'd like to hear it 
 myself, which I could if it were delivered in public, 
 but which I am not so likely to do if spoken here." 
 
 " Oh, Tom, dear Tom ! " whispered his sister, in 
 dismay at a speech so certain to be accepted in its 
 least' pleasing signification. 
 
 "You have already to-day reminded me of my 
 deficiencies in hospitality, sir. This second admoni- 
 tion was uncalled for. It is happy for me that my 
 defence is unassailable. It is happy for you that 
 your impeachment is unwitnessed." 
 
 "You have mistaken me, sir," said Tom, eagerly.
 
 A LUNCHEON AT THE PRIORY. 207 
 
 " I never thought of reflecting on your hospitality. 
 I simply meant to say, that as I find myself here to- 
 day by a lucky accident, I scarcely look to Fortune 
 to do me such another good turn in a hurry." 
 
 "Your father's fault — a fault that would have 
 shipwrecked fourfold more ability than ever he pos- 
 sessed — was a timidity that went to very cowardice. 
 He had no faith in himself, and he inspired no con- 
 fidence in others. Yours is, if possible, a worse fail- 
 ing. You have boldness without knowledge. You 
 have the rashness that provokes a peril, and no part 
 of the skill that teaches how to meet it. It was with 
 a wise prescience that I saw w^e should not be safe 
 company for each other." 
 
 He arose as he spoke, and, motioning back Lucy 
 as she approached to offer her arm, he tottered from 
 the room, to all seeming more overcome by passion 
 than even by years and infirmity. 
 
 '' Well ! " said Tom, as he threw his napkin on the 
 table, and pushed his chair back, " I'll be shot if I 
 know how I provoked that burst of anger, or to what 
 I owe that very neat and candid appreciation of my 
 character." 
 
 Lucy threw her arm around his neck, and, bending 
 over his shoulder till her face touched his own, said, 
 " Oh, my dearest Tom, if you only knew how nervous 
 and susceptible he is, in part from his nature, but 
 more, far more, from suffering and sorrow ! Left to
 
 208 SIR BROOK FOSSBROOKE. 
 
 the solitude of his own bitter thoughts for years, 
 without one creature to whisper a kind word or a 
 hopeful thought, is it any wonder if his heart has 
 begun to consume itself ? " 
 
 "Devilish bitter diet it must find it! Pass me 
 over the madeira, Lucy. I mean to have my last 
 glass to the old gentleman's health and better tem- 
 per." 
 
 *' He has moments of noble generosity that would 
 win all your love," said she, enthusiastically. 
 
 " You have a harder lot than ever I thought it, my 
 poor Lucy," said he, looking into her eyes with an 
 afi'ectionate solicitude. "This is so unlike our old 
 home." 
 
 " Oh, so unlike ! " said she ; and her lip quivered 
 and her eyes grew glazy. 
 
 " And can you bear it, girl ? does it not seem to 
 you like a servitude to put up with such causeless 
 passion — such capricious anger as this ? " 
 
 She shook her head mournfully, but made no 
 answer. 
 
 " If it be your woman's nature enables you to do 
 it, all I can say is, I don't envy you your sex." 
 
 "But, Tom, remember his years — remember his 
 age." 
 
 " By Jove, he took good care to remind me of my 
 own ! — not that he was so far wrong in what he said 
 of me, Lucy. I felt all the while he had ' hit the
 
 A LUNCHEON AT THE PPJORY. 209 
 
 blot/ and I would have owned it too, if lie hadn't 
 taken himself off so quickly." 
 
 " If you had, Tom — if you had said but one word 
 to this purport — you would have seen how nobly 
 forgiving he could be in an instant." 
 
 " Forgiving — humph ! I don't think the forgive- 
 ness was to have come from himy 
 
 " Sir William wishes to speak with you, Miss 
 Lucy," said the butler, entering hastily. 
 
 " I must go, Tom — good-bye. I will write to you 
 to-morrow — to-night if I can — good-bye, my dearest 
 brother ; be sure to come on Tuesday — mind Tues- 
 day. You will be certain to find me alone." 
 
 VOL. I.
 
 CHAPTEE XYIIL 
 
 THE FIEST LETTER HOME. 
 
 The post of the morning after tlie events of our last 
 chapter brought Lucy a letter from her father. It 
 was the first since his departure. What chapters in 
 life are these first letters after absence ! how do they 
 open to us glimpses of not only new scenes and in- 
 cidents, but of emotions and sentiments which, while 
 we had relied upon them, we had never so palpably 
 realised before! There is such ecstasy in thinking 
 that time and space are no barriers against love, and 
 that, even as we read, the heart that sent the message 
 is beating with affection for us. 
 
 Lendrick's letter to his daughter was full of fond- 
 ness ; her image had evidently gone with him through 
 all the changes of the voyage, and their old home 
 mingled in every thought of the new life before him. 
 It was plain enough how unwillingly he turned from 
 the past to the present, and how far rather he w^ould 
 revel in the scenes around the Shannon than turn to
 
 THE FIRST LETTER HOME. 211 
 
 the solitary existence that awaited him beyond the 
 seas, 
 
 " I console myself, dear Lucy," wrote he, " as well 
 as I may, by thinking that in my great sacrifice I 
 have earned the love of my father — that love from 
 which I have lived so long estranged, and for which 
 my heart had never ceased to yearn ; and I delight 
 to think how by this time you must have grown into 
 his heart, soothed many a care for him, and imparted 
 to his solitary life the blessing of that bright hopeful- 
 ness which gave even to my own dull existence a 
 glow of glad sunshine. Out of my selfishness I can- 
 not help asking you to remind him of all I have 
 given him. And now that my egotism is so fully 
 aroused, let me tell of myself. The voyage was less 
 dreary than my fears had made it. I sufi'ered at 
 first, it is true ; and when at last use had inured me 
 to the sea, I fell into a sort of low feverish state, more 
 the result of home-sickness, perhaps, than real mal- 
 ady. It was a condition of rather depression than 
 disease. . Nothing could engage, nothing interest me. 
 I could not read, neither could I partake in any of 
 the various pastimes by which my fellow -voyagers 
 beguiled the, hours, and I found myself in that piti- 
 able state of sinking daily lower and lower, without 
 what I could call a cause for the depression. 
 
 " I have more than once in my experience as a 
 doctor had to deal with such cases, and I own noW
 
 212 SIR BROOK FOSSBROOKE. 
 
 that I have neither valued their intensity nor under- 
 stood their importance. I did not, it is true, go to 
 the vulgar extent of calling them hippishness ; but I 
 did the next worst thing — I treated them as the off- 
 spring of an over-easy existence — of a placid friction- 
 less life. 
 
 *' With much shame do I recall how often I have 
 rallied these poor sufferers on the vast space that 
 separated them from real sorrow. There is no un- 
 reality, dearest Lucy, in whatever so overcomes the 
 brain, that thought is all but madness, and so pains 
 the heart that the whole wish is for death. There 
 are subtler influences in our nature than those that 
 work by the brain or the blood, and the maladies of 
 these have but one physician. 
 
 " It was my great good fortune to have a fellow- 
 traveller who took the kindest interest in me. If he 
 could not cure, he certainly did much to console me. 
 He was a young man, lately gazetted on the comman- 
 der-in-chief's staff, and who came on board of us in 
 the Downs from a frigate bound for England. It was 
 the merest accident that he did not miss us and lose 
 his passage. 
 
 "I am not a very attractive person, and it was 
 with some astonishment that I heard he desired to 
 make my acquaintance, and on meeting he said, 
 * Though you have forgotten me, Dr Lendrick, I had 
 the honour of being presented to you at Killaloe by
 
 THE FIRST LETTER HOME. 213 
 
 my friend Sir Brook Tossbrooke ; ' and I then re- 
 membered all about it, and bow it was bis features 
 were so familiar to me — very good features, too, tbey 
 were, with much candour and manliness in the ex- 
 pression — altogether a handsome young fellow, and 
 with an air of good birth about him just as distinc- 
 tive as his good looks. 
 
 " I am so unused to being singled out by a stranger 
 as the object of attentions, that I never fully got over 
 the surprise which this young man's attachment to 
 me inspired ; and I am not using too strong a word, 
 Lucy, when I call it attachment. There might have 
 been, at least to his eyes, something in our respective 
 fortunes that suggested this drawing towards me. 
 Who knows whether he, too, might not have parted 
 from a loved home and friends ! 
 
 "When he came first on board his manner w^as 
 wild — almost incoherent — he ran here and there, 
 like one in search of something or of somebody, but 
 whose name he had forgotten. Indeed he actually 
 startled me by the eagerness with which he addressed 
 me ; and when I informed him that I was alone, 
 quite alone, and as friendless as himself, on board, I 
 thought he would have fainted. In all this suffer- 
 ing and emotion I suspected that I found what led 
 him to a companionship with one as sorrow-stricken 
 as himself. 
 
 " As it was, there was no care he did not bestow
 
 214 SIR BROOK FOSSBROOKE. 
 
 on me. My own dear boy himself could not' have 
 nursed me more tenderly, nor tried to rally my 
 spirits with more affectionate solicitude. He read 
 for me, played chess with me, he even lent himself 
 to the sort of reading I liked best, to become more 
 companionable to me, withdrawing all this while 
 from the gay and pleasant society of young fellows 
 like himself. In a word, Lucy, by his devotion to 
 me, he sent through my heart a lurking thought, 
 almost like a hope, that I must somehow have cerr 
 tain qualities for which the world at large had not 
 yet credited me, which could make me of interest to 
 a young bright-natured creature, fresh to life and all 
 its enjoyments ; and from the self-esteem of this 
 notion I really believe I drew more encouragement 
 than from any amount of more avowed approbation. 
 
 " I feel I am not wearying you, my darling Lucy, 
 by dwelling even with prolixity on what beguiled 
 the long hours of absence, the weary, weary days at 
 sea. 
 
 " When we landed, for a time at least, I only met 
 him now and then ; he had his duties and I liad 
 mine. I had to look out for a house. My prede- 
 cessor's family are still occupying the official resi- 
 dence, and have begged of me leave to remain there 
 a little longer. I had my visits of duty or compli- 
 ment to make, and a whole round of little courtesies 
 to perform, for which I well know I have all your
 
 THE FIRST LETTER HOME. 215 
 
 sympathy. Every one was, however, kind and 
 polite, some were even friendly. Indeed, my very 
 want of manner, my awkward bashfulness and defi- 
 cient tact, have, I can see, not injured me in the 
 esteem of those whose worldly breeding and know- 
 ledge have taught them to be compassionate as well 
 as courteous. 
 
 " Amongst the many persons to whom I was pre- 
 sented I made two acquaintances of more than com- 
 mon interest to me — I will not go farther, and say 
 of any great degree of gratification. In dining with 
 the Governor yesterday week, he said, *You will 
 meet a relation to-day, Dr Lendrick. His ship has 
 just put in to coal, and he and his wife dine with us.' 
 Though quite persuaded the Governor was labouring 
 under some mistake, I waited with anxiety as the 
 difi'erent arrivals were announced, and at last came 
 Colonel and Mrs Sewell — the Colonel being Lady 
 Lendrick's son by her first marriage, — what relation 
 to myself all my skill in genealogy is unable to pro- 
 nounce. 
 
 "We met, however, shook hands very cordially, 
 and I had the honour to conduct Mrs Sewell to 
 table. I am unfortunately terribly prone to first 
 impressions, and aU those that I entertain regarding 
 the Colonel are adverse. He is a taU handsome 
 man, easy in manner, and with the readiness in 
 speech and address that shows familiarity with life.
 
 216 SIR BROOK FOSSBROOKE. 
 
 He, however, will never suffer your eyes to meet 
 his, never exchange a frank look with you, and 
 seems, from some cause or other, to be always 
 labouring under an impatient anxiety to be some- 
 where else than where he stands at the moment. 
 
 " He asked about my father, and never waited for 
 my reply ; and he laughingly said, with a bad taste 
 that shocked me, ' My mother and he never could 
 " hit it off" together.' 
 
 " Mrs Sewell interested me more than her husband. 
 She is still very handsome ; she must at one time 
 have been perfectly beautiful. She is very gentle, 
 low- voiced, and quiet, talking with a simplicity that 
 even I can detect only covers a deep knowledge of 
 life and the world. The dread of her husband seems, 
 however, to pervade all she says or does. She 
 changes colour when he looks at her, and if he 
 addresses her, she sometimes seems about to faint. 
 His slightest word is accepted as a command ; and 
 yet with all this terror — terror it was — I cauglit a 
 look that once passed between them that actually 
 overwhelmed me with amazement. It was the very 
 look that two accomplices might have interchanged 
 in a moment when they could not communicate 
 more freely. Don't think that there is any exag- 
 geration in this, Lucy, or that I am assuming to 
 possess a finer insight into human motives than my 
 neighbours ; but my old craft as a doctor supplies
 
 THE FIRST LETTER HOME. 217 
 
 me with a teclmical skill that no acquaintance with 
 the mere surface life of the world could have given ; 
 for the Medico reads mankind by a stronger and 
 steadier light than ever shone out of conventionali- 
 ties or social usages. 
 
 " ' We are on our way to England, to Ireland 
 perhaps/ he said to me, in a careless way ; but she, 
 not aware of his speech, told me they had been 
 invited to the Priory — a piece of information which 
 I own startled me. First of all, they are not by 
 any means like people who would be agreeable to 
 my father, nor, so far as I can guess, are they per- 
 sons who would easily sacrifice their own modes of 
 life and habits to the wishes of a recluse. Least of 
 all, dearest Lucy, do I desire this lady to be your 
 companion. She has, I see, many attractive quali- 
 ties ; she may have others as good and excellent ; 
 but if I do not greatly err, her whole nature and 
 being are in subjection to a very stern, cold, and 
 unscrupulous man, and she is far from being all that 
 she should be with such gifts as she possesses, and 
 farther again from what she might have been with a 
 happier destiny in marriage. 
 
 " If it were not that you are so certain to meet, 
 and not improbably see much of these people, I 
 should not have filled so much of my letter with 
 them ; but I confess to you, since I saw them they 
 have never been out of my thoughts. Our relation-
 
 218 SIR BROOK FOSSBROOKE. 
 
 ship — if that be the name for it— led us rapidly 
 into considerable intimacy ; he brought his children 
 — two lovely girls, and a little cherub of a boy of 
 three years old — to see me yesterday, and Mrs Sewell 
 comes to take me to drive every day after luncheon. 
 She expresses the most ardent desire to meet you, 
 and says she knows you will love each other. She 
 carried off your picture t'other day, and I was in 
 real terror till I got it back again. She seemed in 
 ecstasy on being told that you were living with your 
 grandfather ; but I saw a look she shot across to her 
 husband as I told it, and I saw his reply by another 
 glance that revealed to me how my tidings had 
 caused surprise, and something more than surprise. 
 
 " You must not set me down as fanciful or cap- 
 tious, dear Lucy ; but the simple truth is, I have 
 never had a quiet moment since I knew these people. 
 They inspire me with the same sort of anxiety I have 
 often felt when, in the course of my profession, some 
 symptom has supervened in a case not very grave or 
 startling in itself, but still such as I have always 
 found heralding in very serious combinations. It is 
 therefore the Doctor as much as the Father that takes 
 alarm here. 
 
 " It is just possible — mind I say possible — that I 
 am a little jealous of these Sewells, for they have 
 already seduced from me my young friend Lionel, 
 who was so kind to me on the voyage. I scarcely
 
 THE FIRST LETTER HOME. 219 
 
 see him now, lie is always with them ; and yesterday 
 I heard — it may ngt be true — that he is already weary 
 of Cape Town, and means to return home by the 
 next ship — that is, along with the Sew^ells, who are 
 to sail on Friday. 
 
 " I am certain that Sewell is neither a good nor a 
 safe companion for a young fellow so bashful and 
 unsuspecting as Lionel Trafford. 
 
 " There are men who read the world the way cer- 
 tain dishonest critics quote a book or an article, by 
 extracting all that is objectionable, and, omitting 
 context and connection, place passage after passage 
 in quick sequence. By such, a process as this, human 
 life is a pandemonium. I half suspect Sewell to be 
 one of this scornful school ; and if so, a most danger- 
 ous intimate. The heartfelt racy enjoyment of his 
 manner, as he records some trait of rascality or fraud, 
 is not more marked than the contemptuous sneer 
 wdth which he receives a story that bears testimony 
 to generosity or trustfulness, throwing over his air in 
 each that tone of knowledge of life and the world 
 that seems to say, ' These are the things we all of us 
 know well, though only a few have either the manli- 
 ness or the honesty to declare them openly.' 
 
 " I may have tired you with this long tirade, my 
 dear Lucy, but I am pouring out to you my thoughts 
 as they come — come, too, out of the fulness of much 
 reflection. Eemember, too, my sweet child, that I
 
 220 SIR BROOK FOSSBROOKE. 
 
 have often told you, ' It is just some half-dozen people 
 with whom we are intimate, who make or mar our 
 fate in life/ Big as the world is, we play a very 
 small game in one corner of the board, and it be- 
 hoves us to look well to those with whom we are 
 to play it. 
 
 " If I am jealous of the Sewells for having robbed 
 me of my young friend, I am envious of himself also, 
 for he is going back to England — going back to the 
 loved faces and scenes he has left — going back to 
 Home. There's the word, Lucy, that gathers aU that 
 we come to live for, when life really is a blessing. 
 
 " It would seem too early to pronounce, but I think 
 I can already see this is not a place to which I would 
 like to bring you ; but I will not prejudge it. It may 
 be that time will reconcile me to some things I now 
 dislike ; it may be, too, that the presence of my own 
 around me will dispose me to take a cheerier view of 
 much that now depresses me. I have a great deal to 
 do, I am employed during the whole day, and never 
 really free till evening, when society claims me. This 
 latter is my only severe burden. You can imagine 
 me daily dining out, and fancy the martyrdom it 
 costs me. 
 
 " I am most anxious to hear of you, and how you 
 like your new life — I mean, how you bear it. Liking 
 is not the word for that which entails separation. I 
 feel assured that you wiU love my father. You will
 
 THE FIRST LETTER HOME. 221 
 
 be generous towards those traits which the host of 
 mere acquaintanceship took pleasure in exaggerating, 
 and you will be fair enough not to misjudge his great 
 qualities because of certain faults of temper. He has 
 great gifts, Lucy ; and, as you will see, the two pen- 
 dulums of his nature, heart and head, swing together, 
 and he is as noble in sentiment as he is grand in 
 action. 
 
 " It almost consoles me for separation when I think 
 that I have transferred to him the blessings of that 
 presence that made my own sunshine. Mind that 
 you send me a diary of your life. I want your whole 
 day ; I want to see how existence is filled, so that 
 whenever my mind flies back to you I may say, ' She 
 is in her garden — she is working — she is at her music 
 — she is reading to him.* 
 
 " It was a mistake to send me here, Lucy. There 
 are men in scores who would rejoice in the oppor- 
 tunities of such a place, and see in it the road to 
 rapid fortune. I only look at one feature of it — the 
 banishment. Not that by nature I am discontented 
 — I hope and believe this is not so — but I feel that 
 there are many things in life far worse than poverty. 
 I have not the same dread of narrow means most 
 men have. I do not feel depressed in spirit when I 
 lie beneath a very humble roof, and sit down to a 
 coarse meal ; nor has splendour the power to exhil- 
 arate or elevate me. I am essentially humble, and
 
 222 SIR BROOK FOSSBROOKE.' 
 
 I need nothing that is not generally within the reach 
 of the humble ; and I vow to you in all truth, I'd 
 rather be your grandfather's gardener than be the 
 governor of this great colony. There's an ignoble 
 confession, but keep it for yourself 
 
 " I have written a long letter to Tom by this post, 
 and addressed it to Mr Dempster, who will forward 
 it if he should have left before this. It distresses me 
 greatly when I think that I have not been able to give 
 him any definite career in life before we parted. Mere 
 aptitude has no value with the world. You may be 
 willing and ready to do fifty things, but some fourth- 
 rate fellow who knows how to do one will beat you. 
 The marketable quality in life is skill; the thing 
 least in request is genius. Tona has this harsh lesson 
 yet to learn, but learn it he must, for the world is a 
 schoolmaster that will stand no skulking, and how- 
 ever little to our taste be its tasks, we must come up 
 when called on, and go on with our lesson as well as 
 we may. 
 
 " In many respects Sir Brook Fossbrooke was an 
 unfortunate companion for him to have chanced 
 upon. A man of considerable resources, who has 
 employed them all unprofitably, is a bad pilot. The 
 very waywardness of such a nature was exactly the 
 quality to be avoided in Tom's case • but what was 
 to be done? Poverty can no more select its com- 
 pany than its climate ; and it would have been worse
 
 THE FIEST LETTER HOME. 223 
 
 than ungracious to have rejected a friendship so 
 generously and freely offered. 
 
 " I am curious — I am more than curious, I am 
 anxious — to know if Tom should have ever met my 
 father. They are so intensely alike in many things, 
 that I fear me their meeting could not lead to good. 
 I know well that Tom resents, and would like to 
 show that he resents, what he deems the harsh treat- 
 ment evinced towards me, and I dread anything like 
 interchange of words between them. My whole hope 
 is, that you would prevent such a mischance, or, if 
 it did occur, would take measures to obviate its 
 dangers. 
 
 " Tell me particularly about this when you write. 
 Tell me also, have you met Lady Lendrick, and if so, 
 on what terms ? I have ever found her obliging and 
 good-natured, and with many qualities which the 
 world has not given her credit for. Give her my 
 most respectful regards when you see her. 
 
 " It is daybreak ; the hot sun of Africa is already 
 glancing into the room, and I must conclude. I 
 cannot bear to think of the miles these lines must 
 travel ere they meet you, but they will be with you 
 at last, and they are in this more fortunate than your 
 loving father, " T. Lendrick." 
 
 Lucy sat long pondering over this letter. Slie 
 read it, too, again and again, and by a light which
 
 224 SIR BROOK FOSSBROOKE. 
 
 was certainly not vouchsafed to him who wrote it. 
 To her there was no mystery in Trafford's conduct. 
 It was plain enough he had gone out, expecting to 
 find her as his fellow-passenger. His despair — his 
 wretchedness — ^his devotion to her father, the last 
 resource of that disappointment he could not subdue 
 — were all intelligible enough. Less easy, however, 
 to read the sudden attachment he had formed for the 
 Sewells. What did this mean ? Had it any mean- 
 ing ? and if so, was it one that concerned her to 
 know ?
 
 CHAPTEE XIX. 
 
 OFFICIAL MYSTERIES. 
 
 " I THINK I had better see him myself," said Toss- 
 brooke, after patiently listening to Tom Lendrick's 
 account of his meeting with his grandfather. " It 
 is possible I may be able to smooth down matters 
 a little, and dispose the old gentleman, besides, to 
 accord iis some aid in our Sardinian project, for I 
 have resolved upon that, Tom." 
 
 " Indeed, sir ; the gold mine ? " 
 
 " Xo, the lead— the lead and silver. In the rough 
 calculation I made last night on this slip of paper, I 
 see my way to something like seven thousand a-year 
 to begin with ; untold wealth wiU foUow. There are 
 no less than eleven products available — the black 
 lead of pencils and the white used by painters being 
 the chief; while in my new salt, which I am dis- 
 posed to call the ' pyro-chloride of plumbium,' we 
 have a sedative that will allay the pangs of hydro- 
 phobia." 
 
 VOL. I. P
 
 226 SIE BROOK FOSSBROOKE. 
 
 " I wish it would quiet the Chief Baron," muttered 
 Tom ; and Sir Brook, not hearing him correctly, con- 
 tinued, — 
 
 " I think so — I think the Chief Baron eminently- 
 calculated to take a proper estimate of my discovery. 
 A man of fine intellect is ever ready to accept truth, 
 albeit it come in a shape and through a channel in 
 which he has himself not pursued it. "Will you 
 write a line to your sister and ask if it would be 
 his lordship's convenience to receive me, and at 
 what time?" 
 
 " Of course, sir, whatever you wish," said Tom, in 
 some confusion ; " but might I ask if it be your in- 
 tention to ask my grandfather to aid me with his 
 purse ? " 
 
 " Naturally. I mean that he should, by advanc- 
 ing, let us say, eight hundred pounds, put you in a 
 position to achieve a speedy fortune. He shall see, 
 too, that our first care has been your sister's interests. 
 Six-sixteenths of the profits for fifty years are to be 
 hers ; three each we reserve for ourselves ; the re- 
 maining four will form a reserve fund for casualties, 
 a capital for future development, and a sum at inte- 
 rest to pay superannuations, with some other objects 
 that you will find roughly jotted down here, for 
 which, however, they will amply suflSce. I take it 
 his lordship knows something of metalhirgy, Tom." 
 
 " I believe he knows a little of everything."
 
 OFFICIAL MYSTERIES. 227 
 
 " Chemistry I feel sure he must have studied." 
 
 "• I won't answer for the study ; but you'll find 
 that when you come to talk with him, you'll scarcely 
 wander very far out of his geography. But I was 
 going to say, sir, that I'm not quite easy at the 
 thought of asking him for money." 
 
 " It's not money — at least, it's no gift — we require 
 of him. We are in possession of a scheme certain to 
 secure a fortune. We know where a treasure lies 
 hid, and we want no more than the cost of the jour- 
 ney to go and fetch it. He shall be more than re- 
 paid. The very dispositions we make in your sister's 
 favour will show him in what spirit we mean to deal. 
 It is possible — I am willing to own it — it is possible 
 I might approach a man of inferior intelligence with 
 distrust and fear, but in coming before Baron Len- 
 drick I have no misgivings. All my experience of 
 life has shown me that the able men are the gener- 
 ous men. In the ample stretch of their minds they 
 estimate mankind by larger averages, and thus they 
 come to see that there is plenty of good 'in human 
 nature." 
 
 " I believe the old Judge is clever enough, and 
 some speak very well of his character; but his 
 temper — his temper is something that would swal- 
 low up all the fine qualities that ever were accorded 
 to one man ; and even if you were about to go on a 
 mission I liked better, I'd say, Don't ask to see him,
 
 228 SIK BROOK FOSSBROOKE. 
 
 don't expose yourself to the risk of some outrageous 
 affront — something you couldn't bear and wouldn't 
 resent." 
 
 "I have never yet found myself in the predica- 
 ment you speak of," said Sir Brook, drawing himself 
 up haughtily, " nor do I know of any contingency in 
 life from which I could retreat on account of its 
 perils. It may be, indeed it is more than likely, 
 from what you tell me, that I shall make no appeal 
 to your grandfather's generosity ; but I shall see him, 
 to tender your regrets for any pain you may have 
 caused him, and to tell also so much of our future 
 intentions as it is becoming the head of your house 
 should hear. I also desire to see your sister, and say 
 good-bye." 
 
 "Ask her to let me do so too. I can't go away 
 without seeing her again." Tom took a turn or two 
 up and down the room as though he had not made 
 up his mind whether to say something or not. He 
 looked out of the window, possibly in search of 
 something to distract his thoughts, and then turning 
 suddenly about, he said, " I was thinking, sir, that if 
 it was your opinion — mind I don't want to insinuate 
 that it ought to be, or even that it is my own — but 
 that if you came to the conclusion that my sister was 
 not happy with my grandfather — that her life was 
 one of depression and suffering — what would you say 
 to her coming along with us ?"
 
 OFFICIAL MYSTERIES. 229 
 
 " To Sardinia ! Coming to Sardinia, do you mean, 
 Tom ? " said the old man in astonishment.' 
 
 " Yes, sir, that is what I meant." 
 
 " Have I not told you the sort of life that lies 
 before us in the island — the hardships, the dangers, 
 the bitter privations we shall have to endure ? Is it 
 to these we can invite a young girl, trained and ac- 
 customed to every elegance and every comfort ? " 
 
 " She'd not shrink from her share — that much I'll 
 warrant you ; and the worst roughing of that rugged 
 life would be easier to bear than this old man's 
 humour." 
 
 " No, no ; it must not be thought of," said Foss- 
 brooke, sternly. " What meaning has our enterprise 
 if it be not to secure her future fortune ? She cannot 
 — she shall not — pay any part of the price. Let me 
 think over this, Tom. It may be that we ought not 
 to leave her; it may be that we should hit upon 
 something nearer home. I will go up to the Castle 
 and see the Viceroy." 
 
 He made a light grimace as he said this. Such a 
 visit was by no means to his taste. If there was 
 anything totally repugnant to his nature, it was to 
 approach men whom he had known as friends or in- 
 timates, with anything like the request for a favour. 
 It seemed to him to invert all the relations which 
 ought to subsist between men in society. The mo- 
 ment you had stooped to such a step, in his estima-
 
 230 SIR BEOOK FOSSBROOKE. 
 
 tion you had forfeited all right to that condition of 
 equality which renders intercourse agreeable. 
 
 " I must have something for this young fellow — 
 something that may enable him to offer his sister a 
 home if she should need it. I will accept nothing 
 for myself — on that I am determined. It is a sorry 
 part that of suppliant, but so long as it is for another 
 it is endurable. Not that I like it, though — not that 
 it sits easy on me — and I am too old to acquire a 
 new manner." Thus muttering to himself, he went 
 along till he found himself at the chief entrance of 
 the Castle. 
 
 "You will have to wait on Mr Balfour, sir, his 
 Excellency's private secretary, the second door from 
 the corner," said the porter, scarcely deigning a glance 
 at one so evidently unversed in viceregal observances. 
 Sir Brook nodded and withdrew. From a groom who 
 was holding a neat - looking cob pony Fossbrooke 
 learned that Mr Balfour was about to take his morn- 
 ing's ride. " He'll not see you now/' said the man. 
 " You'll have to come back about four or half-past." 
 
 " I have only a question to ask," said Sir Brook, 
 half to himself, as he ascended the stairs. As he 
 gained the landing and rang, the door opened, and 
 Mr Balfour appeared. " I regret to detain you, sir," 
 began Sir Brook, as he courteously raised his hat. 
 "Mr Balfour, I believe." 
 
 " You are right as to my name, but quite as wrong
 
 OFFICIAL MYSTERIES. 231 
 
 if you fancy that you will detain me/' said that plump 
 and very self-satisfied gentleman, as he moved for- 
 ward. 
 
 "And yet, sir, such is my intention," said Sir 
 Brook, placing himself directly in front of him. 
 
 " That is a matter very soon settled," said Balfour, 
 returning to the door and calling out — " Pollard, step 
 down to the lower yard and send a policeman here." 
 
 Sir Brook heard the order unmoved in manner, and 
 even made way for the servant to pass down the 
 stairs. No sooner, however, was the man out of 
 hearing, than he said, " It would be much better, sir, 
 not to render either of us ridiculous. I am Sir Brook 
 Fossbrooke, and I come here to learn at what time it 
 would be his Excellency's pleasure to receive me." 
 
 The calm quiet dignity in which he spoke, even 
 more than the words, had its effect on Balfour, who, 
 with more awkwardness than he would like to have 
 owned, asked Sir Brook to walk in and be seated. 
 " I have had a message for you from his Excellency 
 these three or four days back, and knew not where 
 to find you." 
 
 "Did it never occur to you to try what assist- 
 ance the police might afford, sir?" said he, with 
 deep gravity. 
 
 " One thinks of these generally as a last resource," 
 said Balfour, coolly, and possibly not sorry to show 
 how imperturbable he could be under a sarcasm.
 
 232 SIR BROOK FOSSBROOKE. 
 
 " And now for the message, sir/' said Fossbrooke. 
 
 " m be shot if I remember it. Wasn't it some- 
 thing about an election riot ? You thrashed a priest 
 named Malcahy, eh?" 
 
 " I opine not, sir," said Sir Brook, with a faint 
 smile. 
 
 " No, no ; you are the great man for acclimatisa- 
 tion ; you want to make the ornithorhynchus as com- 
 mon as the turkey. Am I right ?" 
 
 Sir Brook shook his head. 
 
 " I never have my head clear out of office hours, 
 that's the fact," said Balfour, impatiently. " If you 
 had called on me between twelve and three, you'd 
 have found me like a directory." 
 
 " Put no strain upon your recollection, sir. When 
 I see the Viceroy it is probable he will repeat the 
 message." 
 
 " You know him, then ? " 
 
 " I have known him eight-and-forty years." 
 
 " Oh, I have it — I remember it all now. You used 
 to be with Colonel Hanger, and Hugh Seymour, and 
 O'Kelly, and all the Carlton House lot." 
 
 ■Fossbrooke bowed a cold assent. 
 
 " His Excellency told us the other evening that 
 there was not a man in England who had so many 
 stories of the Prince. Didn't Moore go to you about 
 his Life of Sheridan ? — yes, of course — and you pro- 
 mised him some very valuable documents ; and sent
 
 OFFICIAL MYSTERIES. 233 
 
 him five-and-twenty protested bills of poor Brinsley's, 
 labelled ' Indubitable Eecords.' " 
 
 " This does not lead us to the message, sir/' said 
 Fossbrooke, stiffly. 
 
 "Yes, but it does though— I'm coming to it. I 
 have a system of artificial memory, and I have just 
 arrived at you now through Carlton House, milk- 
 punch, and that story about Lord Grey and yourself 
 riding postilions to Ascot, and you on the wheelers 
 tipping up Grey with your whip till he grew frantic. 
 Wasn't that a fact?" 
 
 " I wait for the message, sir ; or rather I grow im- 
 patient at not hearing it." 
 
 " I remember it perfectly. It's a place he wants 
 to offer you ; it's a something under the Courts of 
 Law. You are to do next to nothing — nothing at 
 all, I believe, if you prefer it, as the last fellow did. 
 He lived in Dresden for the education of his chil- 
 dren, and he died there, and we didn't know when he 
 died — at least they suspect he signed some dozen 
 life-certificates that his doctor used to forward at 
 quarter-day. Mind I don't give you the story as 
 mine ; but the impression is, that he held the office 
 for eight years after his death." 
 
 '' Perhaps, sir, you would now favour me with the 
 name and nature of the appointment." 
 
 " He was called the Deputy- Assist ant Sub-some- 
 thing of somewhere in Exchequer ; and he had to
 
 234 SIR BROOK FOSSBROOKE. 
 
 fill, or to register, or to put a seal, or, if not a seal, a 
 stamp, on some papers ; but the marrow of the matter 
 is, he had eight hundred a-year for it ; and when the 
 Act passed requiring two seals, he asked for an in- 
 crease of salary and an assistant clerk, and they gave 
 him two hundred more, but they refused the clerk. 
 They do such shabby things in those short sittings 
 over the Estimates !" 
 
 "And am I to understand that his Excellency 
 makes me an ofi'er of this appointment V 
 
 " Well, not exactly ; there's a hitch in it — I may 
 say there are two hitches : first of all, we're not sure 
 it's in our gift ; and, secondly " 
 
 ** Perhaps I may spare you the secondly — the 
 ' firstly' is more than enough for me." 
 
 " Yes, but I'd like to explain. Here's how it is : 
 the Chief Baron claimed the patronage about twenty 
 years ago, and we made, or the people who were in 
 power made, some sort of a compromise about an 
 ultimate nomination, and he was to have the first. 
 Now his man only died t'other day, having held the 
 ofi&ce, as I said, upwards of twenty years — a most 
 unconscionable thing — ^just one of those selfish acts 
 small official fellows are always doing ; and so I 
 thought, as I saw your name down for something 
 on his Excellency's list, that I'd mention you for the 
 post, as a sort of sop to Baron Lendrick, saying, 
 ' Look at our man ; we are not going to saddle the
 
 OFFICIAL MYSTERIES. 235 
 
 country with one of your long-annuity fellows — lies 
 eighty if he's a day.' I say, I'd press this point, 
 because the old Judge says he is no longer bound by 
 the terms of the compromise, for that the office was 
 abolished and reconstructed by the 58th of Victoria, 
 and that he now insists on the undivided patronage." 
 
 " I presume that the astute reasons which induced 
 you to think of me have not been communicated to 
 the Viceroy." 
 
 "I should think not. I mention them to you 
 frankly, because his Excellency said you were one 
 of those men who must be dealt with openly. ' Play 
 on the square with Fossbrooke,' said he, ' and, whether 
 he win or lose, you'll see no change in him. Try to 
 overreach him, and you'll catch a tiger.' " 
 
 " I am very grateful for his kind estimate of me. 
 It is, however, no more than I looked for at his 
 hands." This he said with a marked feeling, and 
 then added, in a Hghter tone, " I have also a debt of 
 gratitude to yourself, of which I know not how to 
 acquit myself better than by accepting this appoint- 
 ment, and taking the earliest opportunity to die 
 afterwards." 
 
 " No, don't do that ; I don't mean that. You can 
 do like that fellow they made a Pope because he 
 looked on the verge of the grave, and who pitched 
 his crutch into the air when he had put on the 
 tiara."
 
 236 SIR BROOK FOSSBROOKE. 
 
 " I understand ; so that it is only in Baron Len- 
 drick's eyes I am to look sliort-lived." 
 
 " Just so ; call on him — have a meeting with him; 
 say that his Excellency desires to act with every 
 delicacy towards him — that should it be discovered 
 hereafter the right of nomination lies with the Court 
 and not with us, we'll give him an equivalent some- 
 where else, till — till " 
 
 " Till I shall have vacated the post," chimed in Sir 
 Brook> blandly ; " a matter, of course, of very brief 
 space/' 
 
 " You see the whole thing — you see it in all its 
 bearings ; and now, if you only could know some- 
 thing about the man you have to deal with, there 
 would be nothing more to tell you." 
 
 " I have heard about him passingly." 
 
 " Oh yes, his eccentricities are weU known. The 
 world is full of stories of him, but he is one of those 
 men who play wolf on the species — he must be worry- 
 ing somebody to keep him from worrying himself; 
 he smashed the last two Governments here, and he'd 
 have upset us too if I hadn't been here. He hates 
 me cordially; and if you don't want to rouse his 
 anger, don't let your lips murmur the name, Chol- 
 mondely Balfour." 
 
 " You may rely upon me, sir," said Sir Brook, bow- 
 ing. " I have scarcely ever met a gentleman whose 
 name I am not more likely to recall than your own."
 
 OFFICIAL MYSTERIES. 237 
 
 " Sharp, that ; did you mean it ? " said Balfour, 
 with his glass to his eye. 
 
 " I am never ambiguous, sir, though it occasionally 
 happens to me to say somewhat less than I feel. I 
 wish you a good day."
 
 CHAPTEE XX. 
 
 IN COUET. 
 
 When tlie day arrived that the Chief Baron was to 
 resume his place on the Bench, no small share of 
 excitement was seen to prevail within the precincts 
 of the Four Courts. Many opined that his recovery 
 was far from perfect, and that it was not his inten- 
 tion ever to return to the justice-seat. Some main- 
 tained that the illness had been far less severe than 
 was pretended, and that he had employed the attack 
 as a means of pressure on the Government, to accord 
 to his age and long services the coveted reward. Less 
 argumentative partisans there were who were satis- 
 fied to wager that he would or would not reappear on 
 the Bench, and bets were even laid that he would 
 come for one last time, as though to show the world 
 in what full vigour of mind and intellect was the 
 man the Government desired to consign to inactivity 
 and neglect. 
 
 It is needless to say that he was no favourite with
 
 IN COUET. 239 
 
 the Bar. There was scarcely a man, from the highest 
 to the lowest, whom he had not on some occasion or 
 another snubbed, ridiculed, or reprimanded. Whose 
 law had he not controverted, whose acuteness had he 
 not exposed, whose rhetoric not made jest of? The 
 mere presence of ability before him seemed to stimu- 
 late his combative spirit, and incite him to a passage 
 at arms with one able to defend himself. No first- 
 rate man could escape the shafts of his barbed and 
 pointed wit ; it was only dulness, hopeless dulness, 
 that left his court with praise of his urbanity, and a 
 eulogy over his courteous demeanour. 
 
 Now hopeless dulness is not the characteristic of 
 the Irish Bar, and with the majority the Chief Baron 
 was the reverse of popular. 
 
 No small tribute was it therefore to his intellectual 
 superiority, to that mental power that all acknow- 
 ledged while they dreaded, that his appearance was 
 greeted with a murmur of approbation, which swelled 
 louder and louder as he moved across the hall, till it 
 burst out at last into a hoarse, full cheer of welcome. 
 Mounting the steps with difficulty, the pale old man, 
 seared with age and wrinkled with care, turned round 
 towards the vast crowd, and with an eye of flashing 
 brightness, and a heightened colour, pressed liis hand 
 upon his heart, and bowed. A very slight motion it 
 was — less, far less, perhaps, than a sovereign might 
 have accorded ; but in its dignity and grace it was a
 
 240 SIR BROOK FOSSBROOKE. 
 
 perfect recognition of all the honour he felt had been 
 done him. 
 
 How broken ! how aged ! how fearfully changed ! 
 were the whispered remarks that were uttered around 
 as he took his seat on the Bench, and more significant 
 even than words were the looks interchanged when 
 he attempted to speak; and instead of that clear 
 metallic ring which once had been audible even out- 
 side the court, a faint murmuring sound was only 
 heard. 
 
 A few commonplace motions were made and dis- 
 charged. A somewhat wearisome argument followed 
 on a motion for a new trial, and the benches of the 
 Bar gradually grew thinner and thinner, as the in- 
 terest of the scene wore off, and as each in turn had 
 scanned, and, after his own fashion, interpreted, the 
 old Judge's powers of mind and body ; when sud- 
 denly, and as it were without ostensible cause, the 
 court began to fill — bench after bench was occupied, 
 till at last even all the standing-space was crowded ; 
 and when the massive curtain moved aside, vast 
 numbers were seen without, eagerly trying to enter. 
 At first the Chief Baron appeared not to notice the 
 change, but his sharp eye no sooner detected it than 
 he followed with his glance the directed gaze of the 
 crowd, and saw it fixed on the gallery, opposite the 
 jury-box, now occupied by a well-dressed company, 
 in the midst of whom, conspicuous above all, sat
 
 IN COUET. 241 
 
 Lady Lendrick. So well known were the relations 
 that subsisted between himself and his wife, such 
 publicity had been given to their hates and quarrels, 
 that her presence here was regarded as a measure of 
 shameless indelicacy. In the very defiant look, too, 
 that she bestowed on the body of the court she 
 seemed to accept the imputation, and to dare it. 
 
 Leisurely and calmly did she scan the old man's 
 features through her double eyeglass, while from 
 time to time, with a simpering smile, she would 
 whisper some words to the lady at her side — words 
 it was not needful to overhear, they were so palpably 
 words of critical comment upon him she gazed at. 
 
 So engrossed was attention by the indecency of 
 this intrusion, which had not even the shallow pre- 
 text of an interesting cause to qualify it, that it was 
 only after a considerable time it was perceived that 
 the lady who sat next Lady Lendrick was exceed- 
 ingly beautiful. If no longer in her first youth, there 
 were traits of loveliness in her perfectly formed feat- 
 ures which even years respect ; and in the depth of 
 her orbits and the sculptural elegance of her nostrils 
 and her mouth, there was all that beauty we love to 
 call Greek, but in which no classic model ever could 
 compete with the daughters of England. 
 
 Her complexion was of exceeding delicacy, as was 
 the half-warm tint of her light-brown hair. But it 
 was when she smiled that the captivation of her 
 
 VOL. I. Q
 
 242 SIR BKOOK FOSSBEOOKE. 
 
 beauty became perfect; and it seemed as though 
 each and all there appropriated that radiant favour 
 to himself, and felt his heart bound with a sort of 
 ecstasy. It had been rumoured in the morning 
 through the hall that the Chief Baron, at the rising 
 of the Court, would deliver a short reply to the 
 address of the Bar ; and now, as the last motion was 
 being disposed of, the appearance of eager expecta- 
 tion and curiosity became conspicuous on every side. 
 
 That the unlooked-for presence of his wife had 
 irritated and embarrassed the old man was plain to 
 the least observant. The stern expression of his 
 features ; the steadfast way in which he gazed into 
 the body of the court, to avoid even a chance glance 
 at the gallery ; the fretful impatience with which he 
 moved his hands restlessly amongst his papers, — all 
 showed discomposure and uneasiness. Still it was 
 well known that the moment he was called on for a 
 mental effort intellect ever assumed the mastery over 
 temper, and all felt that when he should arise not a 
 trace of embarrassment would remain to mar the 
 calm dignity of his manner. 
 
 It was amidst a hushed silence that he stood up, 
 and said, " Mr Chief Sergeant, and Gentlemen of the 
 Bar: I had intended to-day — I had even brought 
 down with me some notes of a reply which I pur- 
 posed to make to the more than flattering address 
 which you so graciously offered to me. I find, how-
 
 IN COURT. 243 
 
 ever, that I have overrated the strength that remains 
 to me. I find I have measured my power to thank 
 you by the depth of my gratitude, and not by the 
 vigour of my frame. I am too weak to say all that 
 I feel, and too deeply your debtor to ask you to 
 accept less than I owe you. Had the testimony of 
 esteem you presented to me only alluded to those 
 gifts of mind and intellect with which a gracious 
 Providence was pleased to endow me — had you 
 limited yourself to the recognition of the lawyer and 
 the judge — I might possibly have found strength to 
 assure you that I accepted your praise with the con- 
 sciousness that it was not all unmerited. The lan- 
 guage of your address, however, went beyond this ; 
 your words were those of regard, even of affection. 
 I am unused to such as these, gentlemen. They 
 unsettle — they unman me. Physicians tell us that 
 the nerves of the student acquire a morbid and dis- 
 eased acuteness for want of those habits of action and 
 physical exertion which more vulgar organisations 
 practise. So do I feel that the mental faculties gain 
 an abnormal intensity in proportion as the affections 
 are neglected, and the soil of the heart left untilled. 
 
 " Mine have been worse than ignored," said he, 
 with an elevated tone, and in a voice that rang 
 through the court — " they have been outraged ; and 
 when the time comes that biography will have to 
 deal with my character and my fortunes, if there be
 
 244 SIR BROOK FOSSBROOKE. 
 
 but justice in the award, the summing-up will speak 
 of me as one ever linked with a destiny that was 
 beneath him. He was a Lawyer — ^he ought to have 
 been a Legislator. He sat on the Bench, while his 
 place was the Cabinet; and when at the end of a 
 laborious life his brethren rallied round him with 
 homage, and with tender regard, they found him 
 like a long beleaguered city, starved into submission, 
 carrying a bold port towards the enemy, but torn by 
 dissension within, and betrayed by the very garrison 
 that should have died in its defence." 
 
 The savage fierceness of these words turned every 
 eye in the court to the gallery, where Lady Lendrick 
 sat, and where, with a pleasant smile on her face, she 
 not only listened with seeming pleasure, but beat 
 time with her fan to the rhythm of the well-rounded 
 periods. 
 
 A quivering of the lip, and a strange flattening of 
 the cheek of one side, succeeded to the effort with 
 which he delivered these words, and when he at- 
 tempted to speak again his voice failed him ; and 
 after a few attempts he placed his hand on his brow, 
 and with a look of intense and most painful signifi- 
 cancy, bowed around him to both sides of the court 
 and retired. 
 
 *' That woman, that atrocious woman, has killed 
 him," muttered poor Haire, as he hastened to the 
 Judge's robing-room.
 
 IN COURT. 245 
 
 '' I am sorry, my dear, you should not have heard 
 him in a better vein, for he is really eloquent at 
 times," said Lady Lendrick to her beautiful com- 
 panion, as they moved through the crowd to their 
 carriage. 
 
 " I trust his present excitement will not have bad 
 consequences," said the other, softly. "Don't you 
 think we ought to wait and ask how he is ? " 
 
 " If you like. I have only one objection, and that 
 is, that we may be misconstrued. There are people 
 here malicious enough to impute the worst of motives 
 to our anxiety. Oh, here is Mr Pemberton ! Mr 
 Pemberton, will you do me the great favour to in- 
 quire how the Chief Baron is ? Would you do more, 
 and say that I am most eager to know if I could be 
 of any use to him ? " 
 
 If Mr Pemberton had no fancy for his mission, he 
 could not very well decline it. While he was absent, 
 the ladies took a turn through the hall, inspecting 
 the two or three statues of distinguished lawyers, and 
 scanning the living faces, whose bewigged expression 
 seemed to blend the overwise and the ridiculous in 
 the strangest imaginable manner. 
 
 A sudden movement in the crowd betokened some 
 event ; and now, through a lane formed in the dense 
 mass, the Chief Baron was seen approaching. He 
 had divested himself of his robes, and looked tlie 
 younger for the change. Indeed there was an almost
 
 246 SIR BEOOK FOSSBROOKE. 
 
 lightness in Ms step, as he came forward, and, with 
 a bland smile, said, "I am most sensible of the 
 courtesy that led you here. I only wish my strength 
 had been more equal to the occasion." And he took 
 Lady Lendrick's hand with a mingled deference and 
 regard. 
 
 "Sir William, this is my daughter-in-law. She 
 only arrived yesterday, but was determined not to 
 lose the opportunity of hearing you." 
 
 "To have heard me to-day was disappointment," 
 said the old man, as he raised the young lady's hand 
 to his lips ; "to see her is none. I am charmed to 
 meet one so closely tied to me — of such exquisite 
 beauty. Ah, madam! it's a dear-bought privilege, 
 this candid appreciation of loveliness we old men 
 indulge in. May I offer you my arm?'' 
 
 And now through the dense crowd they passed 
 along — all surprised and amazed at the courteous 
 attentions of the old Judge, whom but a few moments 
 before they had seen almost convulsed with passion. 
 " She almost had won the game, Haire," said the 
 Chief Baron, as, having handed the ladies to their 
 carriage, he went in search of his own. " But I have 
 mated her. My sarcasm has never given me one 
 victory with that woman," said he, sternly. " I have 
 never conquered her except by courtesy." 
 
 " Why did she come down to court at all ?" blurted 
 out Haire ; " it was positively indecent."
 
 m COURT. 247 
 
 " The Spanish women go to bull-fights, but I never 
 heard that they stepped down into the arena. She 
 has great courage — very great courage." 
 
 " Who was the handsome woman with her 1 " 
 
 " Her daughter-in-law, Mi's Sew ell. Now, that is 
 what I call beauty, Haire. There is the element 
 which is denied to us men — to subdue without effort 
 — to conquer without conflict.'' 
 
 " Your granddaughter is handsomer, to my think- 
 ing." 
 
 " They are like each other — strangely like. They 
 have the same dimpling of the cheek before they 
 smile, and her laugh has the same ring as Lucy's." 
 
 Haire muttered something, not very intelligibly in- 
 deed, but certainly not sounding like assent. 
 
 "Lady Lendrick had asked me to take these 
 Sewells in at the Priory, and I refused her. Perhaps 
 I'd have been less peremptory had I seen this beauty. 
 Yes, sir ! There is a form of loveliness— this woman 
 has it — as distinctly an influence as intellectual su- 
 periority, or great rank, or great riches. To deny its 
 power you must live out of the world, and reject all 
 the ordinances of society." 
 
 " Coquettes, I suppose, have their followers ; but I 
 don't think you or I need be of the number." 
 
 "You speak with your accustomed acuteness, 
 Haire ; but coquetry is the exercise of many gifts, 
 beauty is the display of one : I can pany off the one ;
 
 248 SIR BEOOK FOSSBROOKE. 
 
 I cannot help feeling the burning rays of the other. 
 Come, come, don't sulk; I am not going to under- 
 value your favourite Lucy. They have promised to 
 dine with me on Sunday ; you must meet them." 
 
 " Dine with you ! — dine with you, after what you 
 said to-day in open court ! " 
 
 "That I could invite them, and they accept my 
 invitation, is the best reply to those who would, in 
 their malevolence, misinterpret whatever may have 
 fallen from me. The wound of a sharp arrow is never 
 very painful till some inexpert bungler endeavours to 
 withdraw the weapon. It is then that agony becomes 
 excruciating, and peril imminent." 
 " I suppose I am the bungler, then ?" 
 " Heaven forbid I should say so ! but as I have 
 often warned you, Haire, your turn for sarcasm is too 
 strong for even your good sense. When you have 
 shotted your gun with a good joke, you will make a 
 bull's eye of your best friend." 
 
 " By George, then, I don't know myself, that's all ; 
 and I could as easily imagine myseK a rich man as a 
 witty one." 
 
 " You are rich in gifts more precious than money ; 
 and you have the quintessence of all wit in that pro- 
 perty that renders you suggestive; it is like what 
 chemists call latent heat. But to return to Mrs 
 Sewell : she met my son at the Cape, and reports 
 favourably of his health and prospects."
 
 IN COURT. 249 
 
 " Poor fellow ! wliat a banisliment lie must feel it !" 
 
 "I wonder, sir, how many of ns go through life 
 without sacrifices ! She says that he goes much into 
 the world, and is already very popular in the society 
 of the place — a great and happy change to a man 
 who had suffered his indolence and self-indulgence 
 to master him. Had he remained at home, I might 
 have been able to provide for him. George Ogle's 
 place is vacant, and I am determined to exercise my 
 right of appointment." 
 
 " First Eegistrar, was he not V 
 
 " Yes ; a snug berth for incapacity — one thousand 
 a-year. Ogle made more of it by means we shall not 
 inquire into, but which shall not be repeated." 
 
 "You ought to give it to your grandson," said 
 Haire, bluntly. 
 
 " You ought to know better than to say so, sir," 
 said the Judge, with a stern severity. " It is to men 
 like myself the public look for example and direction, 
 and it would be to falsify all the teaching of my life 
 if I were to misuse my patronage. Come up early 
 on Saturday morning, and go over the lists with me. 
 There are one hundred and twenty-three applicants, 
 backed by peers, bishops, members of Parliament, 
 and men in power." 
 
 " I don't envy you your patronage." 
 
 " Of course not, sir. The one hundred and twenty- 
 two disappointed candidates would present more
 
 250 SIR BROOK FOSSBEOOKE. 
 
 terror to a mind like yours than any consciousness 
 of a duty fulfilled would compensate for ; but I am 
 fashioned of other stufi'." 
 
 "Well, I only hoi^e it may be a worthy fellow gets 
 it." 
 
 " If you mean worthy in what regards a devotion 
 to the public service, I may possibly be able to assure 
 you on that head." 
 
 " No, no ; I mean a good fellow — a true-hearted, 
 honest fellow, to whom the salary will be a means of 
 comfort and happiness." 
 
 " Sir, you ask far too much. Men in my station 
 investigate jBtness and capacity ; they cannot descend 
 to inquire how far the domestic virtues influence 
 those whom they advance to ofi&ce." 
 
 " You may drop me here ; I am near home," said 
 Haire, who began to feel a little weary of being lec- 
 tured. 
 
 "You will not dine with me ?" 
 
 " Not to-day. I have some business this evening. 
 I have a case to look over." 
 
 " Come up on Saturday, then — come to breakfast ; 
 bring me any newspapers that treat of the appoint- 
 ment, and let us see if we cannot oppose this spirit 
 of dictation they are so prone to assume ; for I am 
 resolved I will never name a man to office who has 
 the Press for his patron." 
 
 " It may not be his fault."
 
 IN COURT. 251 
 
 " It shall be his misfortune, then. Stop, Drab ; 
 Mr Haire wishes to get down. To the Priory," said 
 he, as his friend went his way; and now, leaning- 
 back in his carriage, the old man continued to talk 
 aloud, and, addressing an imaginary audience, declaim 
 against the encroaching spirit of the newspapers, and 
 inveigh against the perils to which their irresponsible 
 counsels exposed the whole framework of society; 
 and thus speaking, and passionately gesticulating, he 
 reached liis home.
 
 CHAPTEE XXL 
 
 A MORNING CALL. 
 
 As Sir Williani waited breakfast for Haire on Satur- 
 day morning, a car drove up to tlie door, and the 
 butler soon afterwards entered with a card and a let- 
 ter. The card bore the name " Sir Brook Fossbrooke," 
 and the letter was sealed with the viceregal arms, and 
 had the name " Wilmington " on the corner. Sir 
 William broke it open, and read — 
 
 " My dear Chief Baron, — This will come to your 
 hand through Sir Brook Fossbrooke, one of my old- 
 est and choicest friends. He tells me he desires to 
 know you, and I am not aware of any more natural 
 or legitimate ambition. It would be presumption in 
 me to direct your attention to qualities you will be 
 more quick to discover and more able to appreciate 
 than myself. I would only add, that your estimate 
 will, I feel assured, be not less favourable that it will 
 be formed of one of whose friendship I am proud. It
 
 A MORNING CALL. 253 
 
 may be that his visit to you will include a matter of 
 business ; if so, give it your courteous attention : and 
 believe me ever, my dear Chief Baron, your faithful 
 friend, Wilmington." 
 
 " Show the gentleman in," said the Judge ; and he 
 advanced towards the door as Sir Brook entered. " I 
 am proud to make your acquaintance. Sir Brook," 
 said he, presenting his hand. 
 
 ''I would not have presumed to call on you at 
 such an hour, my Lord Chief Baron, save that my 
 minutes are numbered. I must leave for England 
 this evening ; and I wished, if possible, to meet you 
 before I started." 
 
 " You will, I hope, join me at breakfast ? " 
 
 " I breakfasted two hours ago — if I dare to dig- 
 nify by the name my meal of bread and milk. But, 
 pray, let me not keep you from yours — that is, if you 
 will permit me to speak to you while so occupied." 
 
 " I am at your orders, sir," said the old Judge, 
 as he seated, himself and requested his visitor to sit 
 beside him. 
 
 " His Excellency tells me, my lord, that there is 
 just now vacant a situation of which some doubt 
 exists as to the patron — a Eegistrarship, I think he 
 called it, in your Court ? " 
 
 " There is no doubt whatever, sir. The patronage 
 is mine."
 
 254 Sm BROOK FOSSBROOKE. 
 
 "I merely quote the Viceroy, my lord — I assert 
 nothing of myself." 
 
 " It may not impossibly save time, sir, when I re- 
 peat that his Excellency has misinformed yon. The 
 office is in my gift." 
 
 '' May I finish the communication with which he 
 charged me ? " 
 
 " Sir, there is no case before the court," said the 
 Judge. " I can hear you, as a matter of courtesy ; 
 but it cannot be your object to be listened to on such 
 terms ? " 
 
 " I will accept even so little. If it should prove 
 that the view taken by his Excellency is the correct 
 one — pray, sir, let me proceed " 
 
 " I cannot ; I have no temper for a baseless hypo- 
 thesis. I will not, besides, abuse your time any more 
 than my own forbearance ; and I therefore say, that 
 if any portion of your interest in making my acquaint- 
 ance concerns that question you have so promptly 
 broached, the minutes employed in the discussion 
 would be thrown away by us both." 
 
 " Mr Haire," said the servant, at tliis moment ; and 
 the Chief Baron's old friend entered rather heated by 
 his walk. 
 
 " You are late by half-an-hour, Haire ; let me pre- 
 sent you to Sir Brook Eossbrooke, whose acquaint- 
 ance I am now honoured in, making. Sir Brook is 
 under a delusive impression, Haire, which 1 told you
 
 A MORNING CALL. 255 
 
 a few days ago would demand some decisive step on 
 my part : he thinks that the vacant registrarship is 
 at the disposal of the Crown." 
 
 " I ask pardon," said Fosshrooke. " As I under- 
 stood his Excellency, they only claim the alternate 
 appointment." 
 
 " And they shall not assert even that, sir." 
 
 " Sir William's case is strong — it is irrefutable. I 
 have gone over it myself," broke in Haire. 
 
 " There, sir ! listen to that. You have now where- 
 withal to go back and tell the Viceroy that the opin- 
 ion of the leading man of the Irish Bar has decided 
 against his claim. Tell him, sir, that accident timed 
 your visit here at the same moment with my distin- 
 guished friend's, and that you in this way obtained a 
 spontaneous decision on the matter at issue. "VAHien 
 you couple with that judgment the name of William 
 Haire, you will have said enough." 
 
 " I bow to this great authority," said Sir Brook, 
 with deep courtesy, " and, accepting your lordship's 
 statement to the fullest, I would only add, that as it 
 was his Excellency's desire to have named me to this 
 office, might I so far presume, on the loss of the good 
 fortune that I had looked for, to approach you with 
 a request, only premising that it is not on my own 
 behalf?" 
 
 " I own, sir, that I do not clearly appreciate the 
 title to your claim. You are familiar with the turf.
 
 256 SIR BROOK FOSSBROOKE. 
 
 Sir Brooke, and you know that it is only the second 
 horse has a right to demand his entry." 
 
 " I have not been beaten, my lord. You have 
 scratched my name and prevented my running." 
 
 " Let us come back to fact, sir/' said the Chief 
 Baron, not pleased with the retort. " How can you 
 base any right to approach me with a request on the 
 circumstance that his Excellency desired to give you 
 what belonged to another ? " 
 
 " Yes, that puts it forcibly — unanswerably — to my 
 thinking," said Haire. 
 
 "I may condole with disappointment, sir, but I 
 am not bound to compensate defeat," said the old 
 Judge ; and he arose and walked the room with that 
 irritable look and manner which even the faintest 
 opposition to him often evoked, and for which even 
 the utterance of a flippant rebuke but partly com- 
 pensated him. 
 
 " I take it, my Lord Chief Baron," said Fossbrooke, 
 calmly, "that I have neither asked for condolence 
 nor compensation. I told you, I hoped distinctly, 
 that what I was about to urge was not on my own 
 behalf" 
 
 " Well, sir, and I think the plea is only the less 
 sustainable. The Viceroy's letter might give a pre- 
 text for the one ; there is nothing in our acquaint- 
 ance would warrant the other." 
 
 "If you knew, sir, how determined I am not to
 
 A MOENING CALL. 257 
 
 take offence at words whicli certainly imperil pa- 
 tience, you would possibly spare me some of these 
 asperities. I am in close relations of friendship with 
 your grandson ; he is at present living with me ; I 
 have pledged myself to his father to do my utmost 
 in securing him some honourable livelihood, and it 
 is in his behalf that I have presented myself before 
 you to-day. Will you graciously accord me a hear- 
 ing on this ground ? " 
 
 There was a quiet dignity of manner in which he 
 said this, a total forgetfulness of self, and a manly 
 simplicity of purpose so palpable, that the old Judge 
 felt he was in presence of one whose character called 
 for all his respect ; at the same time he was not one 
 to be suddenly carried away by a sentiment, and in 
 a very measured voice he rephed, " If I'm flattered, 
 sir, by the interest you take in a member of my family, 
 I am still susceptible of a certain displeasure that it 
 should be a stranger should stand before me to ask 
 me for any favour to my own." 
 
 " I am aware, my Lord Chief Baron, that my posi- 
 tion is a false one, but so is your own." 
 
 " Mine, sir ! mine ? what do you mean ? Explain 
 yourself." 
 
 " If your lordship's interest had been exerted, as 
 it might have been, Dr Lendrick's son would never 
 have needed so humble a friend as he has found 
 in me." 
 
 VOL. L E
 
 258 SIR BROOK FOSSBROOKE. 
 
 " And have you come here, sir, to lecture me on 
 my duty to my family ? Have you presented your- 
 self under the formality of a viceregal letter of 
 introduction to tell a perfect stranger to you how he 
 should have demeaned himself to his own ? " 
 
 " Probably I might retort, and ask by what right 
 you lecture me on my manners and behaviour ? But 
 I am willing to be taught by so consummate a mas- 
 ter of everything ; and though I was once a courtier, 
 I believe that I have much to learn on the score of 
 breeding. And now, my lord, let us leave this un- 
 promising theme, and come to one which has more 
 interest for each of us. If this registrarship, this 
 place, whatever it be, would be one to suit your 
 grandson, will the withdrawal oi my claim serve to 
 induce your lordship to support his ? In one word, 
 my lord, will you let him have the appointment ? " 
 
 " I distinctly refuse, sir," said the Judge, waving 
 his hand with an air of dignity. " Of the young 
 gentleman for whom you intercede I know but little ; 
 but there are two disqualifications against him, more 
 than enough, either of them, to outweigh your advo- 
 cacy." 
 
 " May I learn them ? " asked Sir Brook, meekly. 
 
 " You shall, sir. He carries my name without its 
 prestige ; he inherits ony temper, but not my intel- 
 lect." The blood rushed to his face as he spoke, and 
 his chest swelled, and his whole bearing bespoke the
 
 A MOKNING CALL. 259 
 
 fierce pride that animated him ; when suddenly, as 
 it were, recollecting himself, he added, " I am not 
 wont to give way thns, sir. It is only in a moment 
 of forgetfulness that I could have obtruded a per- 
 sonal consideration into a question of another kind. 
 My friend here will tell you if it has been the habit 
 of my life to pension my family on the public." 
 
 " Having failed in one object of my coming, let 
 me hope for better success in another. May I con- 
 vey to your lordship your grandson's regret for 
 having offended you ? It has caused him sincere 
 sorrow, and much self-reproach. May I return with 
 the good tidings of your forgiveness ? " 
 
 "The habits of my order are opposed to rash 
 judgments, and consequently to hasty reversions. I 
 will consider the case, and let you hear my opinion 
 upon it." 
 
 " I think that is about as much as you will do 
 with him," muttered Haire in Sir Brook's ear, and 
 with a significant gesture towards the door. 
 
 " Before taking my leave, my lord, would it be too 
 great a liberty if I begged to present my personal 
 respects to Miss Lendrick ? " 
 
 " I will inform her of your wish, sir," said the 
 Judge, rising and ringing the bell. After a pause of 
 some minutes, in which a perfect silence was main- 
 tained by all, the servant returned to say, " Miss 
 Lendrick would be happy to see Sir Brook."
 
 260 SIR BROOK FOSSBROOKE. 
 
 " I hope, sir," said the Chief Baron, as he accom- 
 panied him to the door, " I have no need to request 
 that no portion of what has passed here to-day be 
 repeated to my granddaughter." 
 
 A haughty bow of assent was all the reply. 
 
 " I make my advances to her heart," said the 
 Judge, with a tone of more feeling in his voice, 
 "through many difficulties. Let these not be in- 
 creased to me — let her not think me unmindful of 
 my own." 
 
 " Give her no reason to think so, my lord, and you 
 may feel very indifferent to the chance words of a 
 passing acquaintance." 
 
 " For the third time to-day, sir, have you dared to 
 sit in judgment over my behaviour to my family. 
 You cannot plead want of experience of life, or want 
 of converse with men, to excuse this audacity. I 
 must regard your intrusion, therefore, as a settled 
 project to insult me. I accejjt no apologies, sir," 
 said the old man, with a haughty wave of his hand, 
 while his eyes glittered with passion. '' I only ask, 
 and I hope I ask as a right, that I may not be out- 
 raged under my own roof Take your next oppor- 
 tunity to offend me when I may not be hampered by 
 the character of your host. Come down into the open 
 arena, and see how proud you will feel at the issue 
 of the encounter." He rang the bell violently as he 
 spoke, and continued to ring it till the servant came.
 
 A MOKNING CALL. 261 
 
 " Accompany tliis gentleman to the gate," said lie 
 to the man. 
 
 Not a change came over Sir Brook's face dming 
 the delivery of this speech, and as he bowed rever- 
 entially and withdrew, his manner was all that cour- 
 tesy could desire. 
 
 " I see he's not going to visit Lncy," muttered 
 Haire, as Sir Brook passed the window. 
 
 "I should think not, sir. There are few men 
 would like to linger where they have been so in- 
 gloriously defeated." He walked the room with a 
 proud defiant look for some minutes, and then, sink- 
 ing faintly into a chair, said, in a weak tremulous 
 tone, " Haire, these trials are too much for me. It 
 is a cruel aggravation of the ills of old age to 
 have a heart and a brain alive to the finest sense 
 of injury." 
 
 Haire muttered something like concurrence. 
 
 " What is it you say, sir ? Speak out," cried the 
 Judge. 
 
 " I was saying," muttered the other, " I wish they 
 would not provoke — would not irritate you ; that 
 people ought to see the state your nerves are in, and 
 should use a little discretion how they contradict and 
 oppose you." The bland smile of the Chief- Justice, 
 and an assenting gesture of his hand, emboldened 
 Haire to continue, and he went on : "1 have always 
 said, Keep away such as excite him ; his condition
 
 262r SIR BROOK FOSSBROOKE. 
 
 is not one to be bettered by passionate outbreaks. 
 Calm him, humour him." 
 
 "What a pearl above price is a friend endowed 
 with discretion! Leave me, Haire, to think over 
 your nice words. I would like to ponder them alone 
 and to myself. I'll send for you by-and-by."
 
 CHAPTEK XXII. 
 
 COMING-HOME THOUGHTS. 
 
 Had a mere stranger been a guest on that Sunday 
 when the Chief Baron entertained at dinner Lady 
 Lendrick, the Sewells, and his old schoolfellow Haire, 
 he might have gone away under the impression that 
 he had passed an evening in the midst of a happy 
 and united family. 
 
 Nothing could be more perfect than the blending 
 of courtesy and familiarity. The old Chief himself 
 was in his best of humours, which means, that with 
 the high polish of a j)ast age, its deference and its 
 homage, he combined all the readiness and epigram- 
 matic smartness of a later period. Lady Lendrick 
 was bland, courteous, and attentive. Colonel Sewell 
 took the part assigned him by his host, alternate 
 talker and listener; and Mrs Sewell herself dis- 
 played, with true woman's wit, that she knew how 
 to fall in with the Judge's humour, as though she 
 had known him for years, and that, in each sally of
 
 264 SIR BEOOK FOSSBROOKE. 
 
 his wit, and each flash of his repartee, he was but 
 reviving memories of such displays in long past 
 years. As for Haire, no enchantment conld be more 
 complete ; he found himself not only listened to but 
 appealed to. The Chief asked him to correct him 
 about some fact or other of recent history ; he ap- 
 plied to him to relate some incident in a trial he had 
 taken part in ; and, greatest triumph of all, he was 
 called on to decide some question about the dressing 
 of Mrs Sewell's hair, his award being accepted as the 
 last judgment of connoisseurship. 
 
 Lucy talked little, but seemed interested by all 
 around her. It was a bit of high-life comedy, really 
 amusing, and she had that mere suspicion — it was 
 no more — of the honesty and loyalty of the talkers 
 to give an added significancy to all she saw and 
 heard. This slight distrust, however, gave way, when 
 Mrs Sewell sat down beside her in the drawing-room, 
 and talked to her of her father. Oh, how well she 
 appeared to know him ; how truly she read the guile- 
 less simplicity of his noble nature ; how she dis- 
 tinguished — it was not all who did so — between his 
 timid reserve and pride; how she saw that what 
 savoured of haughtiness was in reality an excess of 
 humility, shrouding itself from notice ; how she 
 dwelt on his love for children, and the instantaneous 
 affection he inspired in them towards himself. Last 
 of all, how she won the poor girl's heart as she said.
 
 COMING-HOME THOUGHTS. 265 
 
 " It will never do to leave him there, Lucy ; we 
 must have him here, at home with us. I think you 
 may intrust it to me ; I generally find my way in 
 these sort of things." 
 
 Lucy could have fallen at her feet with gratitude 
 as she heard these words, and she pressed her hand 
 to her lips and kissed it fervently. " AVhy isn't your 
 brother here ? is he not in Dublin ? " asked Mrs 
 Sewell, suddenly. 
 
 " Yes, he is in town," stammered out Lucy, " but 
 grandpapa scarcely knows him, and when they did 
 meet, it was most unfortunate. I'll tell you all 
 about it another time." 
 
 " We have many confidences to make each other," 
 said Mrs Sewell, with a sigh so full of sorrow that 
 Lucy instinctively pressed her hand with warmth, 
 as though to imply her trustfulness would not be ill 
 deposited. 
 
 At last came the hour of leave-taking, and the 
 Judge accompanied his guests to the door, and even 
 bare-headed handed Lady Lendrick to her carriage. 
 To each, as they said "good-night," he had some 
 little appropriate speech — a word or two of gracious 
 compliment, uttered with all his courtesy. 
 
 " I call this little dinner a success, Lucy," said 
 he, as he stood to say " good-night " on the stairs. 
 "Lady Lendrick was unusually amiable, and her 
 daughter-in-law is beyond praise."
 
 266 SIR BROOK FOSSBROOKE. 
 
 " She is indeed charming," said Lucy, fervently. 
 
 *'I found the Colonel also agreeable — less dicta- 
 torial than men of his class generally are. I sus- 
 pect we shall get on well together with further 
 acquaintance ; but, as Haire said, I was myself to- 
 night, and would have struck sparks out of the 
 dullest rock, so that I must not impute to him what 
 may only have been the reflex of myself. Ah, 
 dear ! there was a time when these exertions were 
 the healthful stimulants of my life ; now they only 
 weary and excite — good-night, dear child, good- 
 night." 
 
 As Lady Lendrick and her party drove homeward, 
 not a word was uttered for some minutes after they 
 had taken their seats. It was not till after they 
 had passed out of the grounds, and gained the high- 
 road, that she herself broke silence. " Well, Dud- 
 ley," said she at last, " is he like my description ? 
 was my portrait too highly coloured ? " 
 
 " Quite the reverse. It was a faint weak sketch 
 of the great original. In all my life I never met 
 such inordinate vanity and such overweening pre- 
 tension. I give him the palm as the most con- 
 ceited man and the greatest bore in Christendom." 
 
 " Do you wonder now if I couldn't live with him?" 
 asked she, half triumphantly. 
 
 " I'll not go that far. I think I could live with 
 him if I saw my way to any advantage by it."
 
 COMING-HOME THOUGHTS. 267 
 
 "I'm certain you could not! The very things 
 you now reprobate are the few endurable traits 
 about him. It is in the resources of his intense 
 conceit he finds whatever renders him pleasant and 
 agreeable. I wish you saw his other humour." 
 
 " I can imagine it may not be all that one would 
 desire ; but still " 
 
 "It comes well from you to talk of submitting 
 and yielding," burst out Lady Lendrick. "I cer- 
 tainly have not yet detected these traits in your 
 character ; and I tell you frankly, you and Sir 
 William could not live a week under the same roof 
 together. Don't you agree with me, Lucy? " 
 
 "What should she know about it?" said he, 
 fiercely ; and before she could reply, " I don't sus- 
 pect she knows a great deal about me — she knows 
 nothing at all about him." 
 
 " Well, would you like to live with him yourself, 
 Lucy ? " asked Lady Lendrick. 
 
 " I don't say I'd like it, but I think it might be 
 done," said she, faintly, and scarcely raising her eyes 
 as she spoke. 
 
 " Of course, then, my intractable temper is the 
 cause of all our incompatibility ; my only consola- 
 tion is, that I have a son and a daughter-in-law so 
 charmingly endowed, that their virtues are more 
 than enough to outweigh my faults." 
 
 " What I say is this," said the Colonel, sternly —
 
 268 SIR BROOK FOSSBROOKE. 
 
 " I think the man is a bore, or a bully ; but that he 
 needn't be both if one doesn't like it. Now I'd 
 consent to be bored, to escape being bullied, which 
 is precisely the reverse j of what you apjoear to have 
 done." 
 
 " I am charmed with the perspicuity you display. 
 I hope, Lucy, that it tends to the happiness of your 
 married life, to have a husband so well able to read 
 character." 
 
 Apparently this was a double-headed shot, for 
 neither spoke for several minutes. 
 
 " I declare I almost wish he would put you to the 
 test," said Lady Lendrick. " I mean, I wish he'd ask 
 you to the Priory." 
 
 " I fancy it is what he means to do," said Mrs 
 Sewell, in the same low tone — " at least, he came to 
 me when I was standing in the small drawing-room, 
 and said, ' How would you endure the quiet stillness 
 and uniformity of such a life as I lead here? Would 
 its dulness overpower you ? ' " 
 
 " Of course you said it would be paradise," broke 
 in her ladyship ; " you hinted all about your own 
 resources, and suchlike." 
 
 " She did no such thing ; she took the pathetic 
 line, put her handkerchief to her eyes, and implied 
 how she would love it, as a refuge from the cruel 
 treatment of a bad husband — eh, am I right?" 
 Harsh and insolent as the words were, the accents
 
 COMING-HOME THOUGHTS. 269 
 
 in whicli tliey were uttered were far more so. " Out 
 wdth it, madam ! was it not something like that you 
 said?"' 
 
 " No/' said she, gently. " I told Sir William I 
 was supremely happy, blessed in eyery accident and 
 every relation of my life, and that hitherto I had 
 never seen the spot which could not suit the glad 
 temper of my heart." 
 
 " You keep the glad temper confoundedly to your- 
 self then," burst he out. " I wish you were not such 
 a niggard of it." 
 
 " Dudley, Dudley, I say," cried Lady Lendrick, in 
 a tone of reproof. 
 
 " I have learned not to mind these amenities," said 
 Mrs Sewell, in a quiet voice, " and I am only sur- 
 prised that Colonel Sewell thinks it worth while to 
 continue them." 
 
 " If it be your intention to become Sir William's 
 guest, I must say such habits will require to be 
 amended," said her ladyship, gravely. 
 
 " So they shall, mother. Your accomplished and 
 amiable husband, as you once called him in a letter 
 to me, shall only see us in our turtle moods, and 
 never be suffered to approach our cage save when we 
 are billing and cooing." 
 
 The look of aversion he threw at his wife as he 
 spoke was something that words cannot convey ; and 
 though she never raised eyes to meet it, a sickly
 
 270 SIR BEOOK FOSSBROOKE. 
 
 pallor crept over her cheek as the blight fell on 
 her. 
 
 " I am to call on him to-morrow, by appointment. 
 I wish he had not said twelve. One has not had his 
 coffee by twelve ; but as he said, ' I hope that will 
 not be too early for yon/ I felt it better policy to 
 reply, ' By no means ; ' and so I must start as if for 
 a journey." 
 
 " What does he mean by asking you to come at 
 that hour ? have you any notion what his business 
 is?" 
 
 " Not the least. We were in the hall. I was put- 
 ting on my coat, when he suddenly turned round 
 and asked me if I could, without inconvenience, drop 
 in about twelve." 
 
 " I wonder what it can be for." 
 
 " m tell you what I hope it may not be for ! I 
 hope it may not be to show me his conservatory, or 
 his Horatian garden, as he pedantically called it, or 
 his fish-ponds. If so, I think I'll invite him some 
 fine morning to turn over all my protested bills, and 
 the various writs issued against me. Bore for Bore, 
 I suspect we shall come out of the encounter pretty 
 equal." 
 
 " He has some rare gems. I'd not wonder if it 
 was to get you to select a present for Lucy." 
 
 " If I thought so, I'd take a jeweller with me, as 
 though my friend, to give me a hint as to the value."
 
 COMING-HOME THOUGHTS. 271 
 
 " He admires you greatly, Lucy ; lie told me so as 
 lie took me down-stairs." 
 
 " She has immense success with men of that a^re : 
 nothing over eighty seems able to resist her." 
 
 This time she raised her eyes, and they met his, 
 not with their former expression, but full of defiance, 
 and of an insolent meaning, so that after a moment 
 he turned away his gaze, and with a seeming struggle 
 looked abashed and ashamed. " The first change I 
 will ask you to make in that house," said Lady Len- 
 drick, who had noticed this by-play, "if ever you 
 become its inmates, will be to dismiss that tiresome 
 old hanger-on Mr Haire. I abhor him." 
 
 " My first reform will be in the sherry — to get rid 
 of that vile sugary compound of horrid nastiness he 
 gives you after soup. The next will be the long- 
 tailed black coach-horses. I don't think a man need 
 celebrate his own funeral every time he goes out for 
 a drive." 
 
 "Haire," resumed Lady Lendrick, in a tone of 
 severity, meant, perhaps, to repress all banter on a 
 serious subject — "Haire not only supplies food to 
 his vanity, but stimulates his conceit by little daily 
 stories of what the world says of him. I wish he 
 would listen to me on that subject — I wish he would 
 take my version of his place in popular estimation." 
 " I opine that the granddaughter should be got rid 
 of," said the Colonel.
 
 272 SIR BROOK FOSSBROOKE. 
 
 " She is a fool — only a fool," said Lady Lendrick. 
 
 " I don't think her a fool," said Mrs Sewell, slowly. 
 
 " I don't exactly mean so much ; but that she has 
 no knowledge of life, and knows nothing whatever 
 of the position she is placed in, nor how to profit 
 by it." 
 
 " I'd not even go that far," said Mrs Sewell, in the 
 same quiet tone. 
 
 " Don't pay too much attention to that,'' said the 
 Colonel to his mother. " It's one of her ways always 
 to see something in every one that nobody else has 
 discovered." 
 
 " I made that mistake once too often for my own 
 welfare," said she, in a voice only audible to his ear. 
 
 " She tells me, mother, that she made that same 
 mistake once too often for her own welfare ; which, 
 being interpreted, means in taking me for her hus- 
 band — a civil speech to make a man in presence of 
 his mother." 
 
 " I begin to think that politeness is not the quality 
 any of us are eager about," said Lady Lendrick ; " and 
 I must say I am not at all sorry that the drive is 
 over.'' 
 
 " If I had been permitted to smoke, you'd not have 
 been distressed by any conversational excesses on my 
 part," said the Colonel. 
 
 " I shall know better another time, Dudley ; and 
 possibly it would be as well to be suffocated with
 
 COMING-HOME THOUGHTS. 273 
 
 tobacco as lialf-clioked with anger. Thank heaven 
 we are at the door ! " . 
 
 "May I take your horses as far as the Club?" 
 asked Sewell, as he handed her out. 
 
 " Yes, but not to wait. You kept them on Tuesday 
 night till past four o'clock." 
 
 " On second thought I'll walk," said he, turning 
 away. " Good night ; " and leaving his wife to be 
 assisted down the steps by the footman, he lighted 
 his cigar, and walked away. 
 
 VOL. I.
 
 CHAPTEK XXIII. 
 
 A VERY HUMBLE DWELLING. 
 
 The little lodging occupied by Sir Brook and young 
 Lendrick was in a not very distinguished suburb near 
 Cullen's Wood. It was in a small one-storeyed cot- 
 tage, whose rickety gate bore the inscription " Avoca 
 Villa " on a black board, under which, in the form 
 of permanence that indicated frequent changes of 
 domicile, were the words — " Furnished Apartments, 
 and Board if required." A small enclosure, with 
 three hollyhocks in a raised mound in the centre, and 
 a luxurious crop of nettles around, served as gar- 
 den : a narrow path of very rough shingle conducted 
 to the door. 
 
 The rooms within were very small, low, and meanly 
 furnished ; they bespoke both poverty and neglect : 
 and while the broken windows, the cobwebbed ceil- 
 ing, and the unwashed floor, all indicated that no 
 attention was bestowed on comfort or even decency, 
 over the fireplace, in a large black frame, was a
 
 A VERY HUMBLE DWELLING. 275 
 
 painting representing tlie genealogical tree of the 
 lionse of the proprietor, Daniel O'Eeardon, Esqnire, 
 the lineal descendant of Frenok-Dhubh-na-Bochlish 
 O'Eeardon, who was king of West Carbarry, A.D. 703, 
 and who, though at present only a doorkeeper in H. 
 M. Conrt of Exchequer, had royal blood in his veins, 
 and very kingly thoughts in his head. 
 
 If a cruel destiny compelled Mr O'Eeardon to serve 
 the Saxon, he " took it out " in a most hearty hatred 
 of his patron. He denounced him when he talked, 
 and he reviled him when he sang. He treasured up 
 paragraphs of all the atrocities of the English press, 
 and he revelled in the severe strictures which the 
 Irish papers bestowed on them. So far as hating 
 went, he was a true patriot. 
 
 If some people opined that Mr O'Eeardon's poli- 
 tical opinions rather partook of what was in vogue 
 some sixty-odd years ago than what characterised a 
 time nearer our own day, there were others, less 
 generous critics, who scrupled not to say that he was 
 a paid spy of the Government, and that all the 
 secret organisation of treason — aU the mysterious 
 plotting of rebellion that seems never to die com- 
 pletely out in Ireland — were known to and re- 
 ported by this man to the " Castle." Certain it was 
 that he lived in a way his humble salary at the Four 
 Courts could not have met, and indulged in convivial 
 excesses far beyond the reach of his small income.
 
 276 SIR BROOK FOSSBROOKE. 
 
 When Sir Brook and Tom Lendrick became his 
 lodgers, he speedily saw that they belonged to a 
 class far above what usually resorted to his humble 
 house. However studiously simple they might be 
 in all their demands, they were unmistakably gentle- 
 men ; and this fact, coupled with their evident want 
 of all employment or occupation, considerably puz- 
 zled Mr O'Eeardon, and set him a-thinking what 
 they could be, who they were, and, as he phrased it, 
 " what they were at." No letters came for them, 
 nor, as they themselves gave no names, was there 
 any means of tracing their address ; and to his oft- 
 insinuated request, " If any one asks for you, sir, by 
 what name will I be able to answer ? " came the same 
 invariable " No one will call ; " and thus was Mr 
 O'Eeardon reduced to designate them to his wife as 
 the *' old chap," and the " young one " — titles which 
 Sir Brook and Tom more than once overheard 
 through the frail partitions of the ill-built house. 
 
 It is not impossible that O'Eeardon's peculiar 
 habits and line of life disposed him to attach a 
 greater significance to the seeming mystery that 
 surrounded his lodgers than others might have as- 
 cribed ; it is probable that custom had led him to 
 suspect everything that was, in any way, suspicious. 
 These men draw many a cover where there is no 
 fox, but they rarely pass a gorse thicket and leave 
 one undetected. His lodgers thus became to him a
 
 A VERY HUMBLE DWELLING. 277 
 
 study. Had lie been a man of leisure, he would 
 have devoted the whole of it to their service ; he 
 would have dogged their steps, learned their haunts, 
 and watched their acquaintances — if they had any. 
 Sunday was, however, his one free day, and by some 
 inconceivable perversity they usually spent the en- 
 tire of it at home. 
 
 The few books they possessed bore no names ; 
 some of them were in foreign languages, and in- 
 creased thereby Mr O'Eeardon's suspicious distrust, 
 but none gave any clue to their owners. There was 
 another reason for his eagerness and anxiety : for a 
 long time back Ireland had been generally in a 
 condition of comparative quiet and prosperity ; there 
 was less of distress, and consequently less of outrage. 
 The people seemed at length to rely more upon 
 themselves and their own industry, than on the 
 specious promises of trading politicians, and Mr 
 O'Eeardon, whose functions, I fear, were not above 
 reproach in the matter of secret information, began 
 to fear lest some fine morning he might be told " his 
 occupation was gone," and that his employers no 
 longer needed the fine intelligence that could smell 
 treason, even by a sniff : he must, he said, do some- 
 thing to revive the memory of his order, or the 
 chance was it would be extinguised for ever. 
 
 He had to choose between denouncing them as 
 French emissaries or American sympathisers. A
 
 278 SIR BROOK FOSSBROOKE. 
 
 novel of Balzac's that lay on the table decided for 
 the former, for he knew enough to be aware it was 
 in French ; and fortified with this fact, he proceeded 
 to draw up his indictment for the Castle. 
 
 It was, it must be confessed, a very meagre docu- 
 ment; it contained little beyond the writer's own 
 suspicions. Two men who were poor enough to live 
 in Avoca Villa, and yet rich enough to do nothing 
 for their livelihood, who gave no names, went out at 
 unseasonable hours, and understood French, ought 
 to be dangerous, and required to be watched, and 
 therefore he gave an accurate description of their 
 general appearance, age, and dress, at the office of 
 the Private Secretary, and asked for his "instruc- 
 tions " in consequence. 
 
 Mr O'Eeardon was not a bad portrait-painter with 
 his pen, and in the case of Sir Brook there were 
 peculiarities enough to make even a caricature a 
 resemblance : his tall narrow head, his long droop- 
 ing mustache, his massive grey eyebrows, his look 
 of stern dignity, would have marked him, even with- 
 out the singularities of dress which recalled the 
 fashions of fifty years before. 
 
 Little indeed did the old man suspect that his 
 high-collared coat and bell-shaped hat were subject- 
 ing him to grave doubts upon his loyalty. Little 
 did he think, as he sauntered at evening along the 
 green lanes in this retired neighbourhood, that his
 
 A VERY HUMBLE DWELLING. 279 
 
 thouglits ought to have been on treason and blood- 
 shed. 
 
 He had come to the little lodging, it is true, for 
 privacy. After his failure in that memorable in- 
 terview with Sir William Lendrick, he had deter- 
 mined that he would not either importune the 
 Viceroy for place, nor would he be in any way the 
 means of complicating the question between the 
 Government and the Chief Baron by exciting the 
 Lord-Lieutenant's interest in his behalf. 
 
 "We must change our lodging, Tom," said he, 
 when he came home on that night. " I am desirous 
 that, for the few days we remain here, none should 
 trace nor discover us. I will not accept what are 
 called compensations, nor will I live on here to be 
 either a burden or a reproach to men who were once 
 only my equals." 
 
 " You found my worthy grandfather somewhat 
 less tractable than you thought for, sir?" asked 
 Tom. 
 
 " He was very fiery and very haughty, but on the 
 whole there was much that I liked in him. Such 
 vitality in a man of his years is in itself a grand 
 quality, and even in its aggressiveness suggests 
 much to regard. He refused to hear of me for the 
 vacant office, and he would not accept you." 
 
 " How did he take your proposal to aid us by a 
 loan?"
 
 280 SIR BROOK FOSSBROOKE. 
 
 " I never made it. The terms we found ourselves 
 on after half-an-hour's discussion of other matters 
 rendered such a project impossible." 
 
 "And Lucy — how did she behave through it 
 all?" 
 
 " She was not there ; I did not see her." 
 
 " So that it turned out as I predicted — a mere 
 meeting to exchange amenities." 
 
 " The amenities were not many, Tom ; and I doubt 
 much if your grandfather will treasure up any very 
 delightful recollections of my acquaintance." 
 
 " I'd like to see the man, woman, or child," burst 
 out Tom, " who ever got out of his cage without a 
 scratch. I don't believe that Europe contains his 
 equal for irascibility." 
 
 "Don't dwell on these views of life," said Sir 
 Brook, almost sternly. "You, nor I, know very 
 little what are the sources of those intemperate out- 
 breaks we so often complain of — what sore trials 
 are ulcerating the nature, what agonising maladies, 
 what secret terrors, what visions of impending 
 misery ; least of all do we know or take count of the 
 fact, that it is out of these high-strung temperaments 
 we obtain those thrilling notes of human passion 
 and tenderness coarser natures never attain to. Let 
 us bear with a passing discord in the instrument 
 whose cadences can move us to very ecstasy." 
 
 Tom hung his head in silence, but he certainly
 
 A VERY HUMBLE DWELLING. 281 
 
 did not seem convinced. Sir Brook quietly re- 
 sumed, " How often have I told you that the world 
 has more good than bad in it — yes, and what's more, 
 that as we go on in life this conviction strengthens 
 in us, and that our best experiences are based on 
 getting rid of our disbeliefs. Hear what happened 
 me this morning. You know that for some days 
 back I have been negotiating to raise a small loan 
 of four hundred pounds to take us to Sardinia and 
 start our Mine. Mr "Waring, who was to have lent 
 me this sum on the security of the Mine itself, took 
 it into his head to hesitate at the last hour, and 
 inserted an additional clause that I should insure 
 my life in his behalf. 
 
 " I was disconcerted, of course, by this — so much 
 so, that had I not bought a variety of tools and im- 
 plements on trust, I believe I would have relin- 
 quished the bargain and tried elsewhere. It was, 
 however, too late for this ; I was driven to accept 
 his terms, and, accredited with a printed formula 
 from an insurance office, I waited on the doctor 
 who was to examine me. 
 
 "A very brief investigation satisfied him that I 
 was not seaworthy ; he discovered I know not what 
 about the valves of my heart, that implied mischief, 
 and after ' percussing ' me, as he called it, and 
 placing his ear to my chest, he said, ' I regret to say, 
 sir, that I cannot pronounce you insurable.'
 
 282 SIR BROOK FOSSBROOKE. 
 
 "I could have told him that I came of a long- 
 lived race on either side ; that during my life I had 
 scarcely known an illness, that I had borne the 
 worst climates without injury, and suchlike — but 1 
 forbore ; I had too much deference for his station 
 and his acquirements to set my judgment against 
 them, and I arose to take my leave. It is just 
 possible, though I cannot say I felt it, that his 
 announcement might have affected me — at all 
 events, the disappointment did so, and I was ter- 
 rified about the difficulties in which I saw myself 
 involved, I became suddenly sick, and I asked for 
 a glass of water ; before it came I had fainted, a 
 thing that never in my whole life had befallen me. 
 When I rallied, he led me to talk of my usual habits 
 and pursuits, and gradually brought me to the 
 subject which had led me to his house. * What ! ' 
 said he, ' ask for any security beyond the property 
 itself ! It is absurd ; Waring is always doing these 
 things. Let me advance this money. I know a 
 great deal more about you, Sir Brook, than you 
 think ; my friend Dr Lendrick has spoken much of 
 you, and of all your kindness to his son ; and though 
 you may not have heard of my name — Beattie, — I 
 am very familiar with yours.' 
 
 " In a word, Tom, he advanced the money. It is 
 now in that writing-desk ; and I have — I feel it — a 
 friend the more in the world. As I left his door, I
 
 A VERY HUMBLE DWELLING. 283 
 
 could not help saying to myself. What signify a few 
 days more or less of life, so long as such generous 
 traits as this follow one to the last ! He made me a 
 happier man by his noble trust in me than if he had 
 declared me a miracle of strength and vigour. Who 
 is that looking in at the window, Tom? It's the 
 second time I have seen a face there." 
 
 Tom started to his feet and hurried to the door. 
 There was, however, no one there ; and the little lane 
 was silent and deserted. He stopped a few minutes 
 to listen, but not a footfall could be heard, and he 
 returned to the room believing it must have been a 
 mere illusion. 
 
 " Let us light candles, Tom, and have out our maps. 
 I want to see whether Marseilles will not be our best 
 and cheapest route to the island." 
 
 They were soon poring eagerly over the opened 
 map, Sir Brook carefully studying all the available 
 modes of travel ; while Tom, be it owned, let his eyes 
 wander from land to land, till, following out the 
 Danube to the Black Sea, he crossed over and 
 stretched away into the mountain gorges of Circassia, 
 where Schamyl and his brave followers were then 
 fighting for liberty. For maps, like the lands they 
 picture, never offer to two minds kindred thoughts ; 
 each follows out in space the hopes and ambitions 
 that his heart is charged with ; and where one reads 
 wars and battle-fields, another but sees pastoral
 
 284 SIR BROOK FOSSBROOKE. 
 
 pleasures and a tranquil existence — home and home 
 happiness. 
 
 " Yes, Tom ; here I have it. These coasting craft, 
 whose sailing-lines are marked here, will take us and 
 our traps to Cagliari for a mere trifle — here is the 
 route." 
 
 As the young man bent over the map the door 
 behind opened, and a stranger entered. " So I have 
 found you, Fossbrooke ! " cried he, " though they in- 
 sisted you had left Ireland ten days ago." 
 
 " Mercy on me ! Lord Wilmington ! " said Sir 
 Brook, as he shaded his eyes to stare at him. " What 
 could have brought you here ? " 
 
 " I'll tell you," said he, dropping his voice. '* I 
 read a description so very like you in the secret re- 
 port this morning, that I sent my servant Curtis, 
 who knows you well, to see if it was not yourself ; 
 when he came back to me — for I waited for him at 
 the end of the lane — with the assurance that I was 
 right, I came on here. I must tell you that I took 
 the precaution to have your landlord detained, as if 
 for examination, at the Under-Secretary's office ; and 
 he is the only one here who knows me. Mr Len- 
 drick, I hope you have not forgotten me? we met 
 some months ago on the Shannon." 
 
 " What can I offer you ?" said Sir Brook. " Shall 
 it be tea? We were just going to have it." 
 
 " I'll take whatever you like to give me ; but let
 
 A VERY HUMBLE DWELLING. 285 
 
 US profit by the few moments I can stay. Tell me 
 how was it you failed with the Chief Baron ? " 
 
 " He wouldn't have me, that's all. He maintains 
 his right to an undivided patronage, and will accept 
 of no dictation." 
 
 " Will he accept of your friend here ? He has 
 strong claims on him." 
 
 " As little as myself, my lord : he grew eloquent 
 on his public virtue, and of course became hope- 
 less." 
 
 " Will he retire and let us compensate him ? " 
 
 " I believe not. He thinks the country has a 
 vested interest in his capacity, and as he cannot be 
 replaced, he has no right to retire." 
 
 " He may make almost his own terms with us, 
 Fossbrooke," said the Viceroy. " We want to get 
 rid of himself and an intractable Solicitor-General 
 together. Will you try what can be done ? " 
 
 " Not I, my lord. I have made my first and last 
 advances in that quarter." 
 
 " And yet I believe you are our last chance. He 
 told Pemberton yesterday you were the one man of 
 ability that ever called on him with a message from 
 a Viceroy." 
 
 " Let us leave him undisturbed in his illusion, my 
 lord." 
 
 " I'd say, let us profit by it, Fossbrooke. I have 
 been in search of you these eight days, to beg you
 
 286 SIR BEOOK FOSSBROOKE. 
 
 would take the negotiation in hand. Come, Mr 
 Lendrick, you are interested in this ; assist me in 
 persuading Sir Brook to accept this charge. If he 
 will undertake the mission, I am ready to give him 
 ample powers to treat." 
 
 " I suspect, my lord," said Tom, " you do not 
 know my grandfather. He is not a very manageable 
 person to deal with." 
 
 " It is for that reason I want to place him in the 
 hands of my old friend here." 
 
 " 'No, no, my lord ; it is quite hopeless. Had we 
 never met, I might have come before him with some 
 chance of success ; but I have already prejudiced 
 myself in his eyes, and our one interview was not 
 very gratifying to either of us." 
 
 "I'U not give in, Fossbrooke, even though I am 
 well aware I can do nothing to requite the service 
 I ask of you." 
 
 " We leave Ireland to-morrow evening. We have 
 a project which requires our presence in the island 
 of Sardinia. We are about to make our fortunes, 
 my lord, and I'm sure you're not the man to throw 
 any obstacle in the way." 
 
 "Give me half an hour of your morning, Foss- 
 brooke ; half an hour will suffice. Drive out to the 
 Priory ; see the Chief Baron ; tell him I intrusted 
 the negotiation to you, as at once more delicate to 
 each of us. You are disconnected with all party
 
 A VERY HUMBLE DWELLING. 287 
 
 v.. 
 
 ties here. Say it is not a question of advancing 
 this man or that — that we well know how inferior 
 must any successor be to himself, but that certain 
 changes are all-essential to us. We have not — I 
 may tell you in confidence — the right man as our 
 law adviser in the House ; and add, * It is a moment 
 to make your own terms ; write them down, and 
 you shall have your reply within an hour — a favour- 
 able one I may almost pledge myself it will be. At 
 all events, every detail of the meeting is strictly 
 between us, and on honour.' Come now, Fossbrooke ; 
 do this for me as the greatest service I could entreat 
 of you." 
 
 "I cannot refuse you any longer. I will go. I 
 only premise that I am to limit myself strictly to 
 the statement you shall desire me to repeat. I 
 know nothing of the case; and I cannot be its 
 advocate." 
 
 "Just so. Give me your card. I will merely 
 write these words — ' See Sir Brook for me. — Wil- 
 mington.' Our object is his resignation, and we are 
 prepared to pay handsomely for it. Now, a word 
 with you, Mr Lendrick. I heard most honourable 
 mention of you yesterday from the vice-provost ; he 
 tells me that your college career was a triumph so 
 long as you liked it, and that you have abilities for 
 any walk in life. Why not continue, then, on so 
 successful a path ? Why not remain, take out your
 
 288 SIR BROOK FOSSBROOKE. 
 
 degree, and emulate that distinguished relative who 
 has thrown such lustre on your family ? " 
 
 " First of all, my lord, you have heard me much 
 overrated. I am not at all the man these gentle- 
 men deem me ; secondly, if I were, I'd rather bring 
 my abilities to any pursuit my friend here could 
 suggest. I'd rather be his companion than be my 
 grandfather's rival. You have heard what he said a 
 while ago — we are going to seek our fortune." 
 
 " He said to make it," said Lord Wilmington, with 
 a smile. 
 
 " Be it so, my lord. Fll seek, and hell find ; at 
 all events, I shall be his companion ; and I'm a duller 
 dog than I think myself if I do not manage to be 
 the better of it." 
 
 " You are not the only one he has fascinated," said 
 the Viceroy, in a whisper. " I'm not sure I'd disen- 
 chant you if I had the power." 
 
 " Must I positively undertake this negotiation ? " 
 asked Fossbrooke, with a look of entreaty. 
 
 "You must." 
 
 " I know I shaU fail." 
 
 « I don't believe it." 
 
 " WeU, as Lady Macbeth says, if we fail we fail ; 
 and though murdering a king be an easier thing than 
 muzzling a Chief Baron — here goes." 
 
 As he said this the door was gently moved, and a 
 head protruded into the room.
 
 A VERY HUMBLE DWELLING. 289 
 
 " Who is tliat ? " cried Tom, springing rapidly 
 towards the door; but all was noiseless and quiet, 
 and no' one to be seen. " I believe we are watched 
 here," said he, coming back into the room. 
 
 " Good-night, then. Let me have your report as 
 early as may be, Fossbrooke. Good-night." 
 
 VOL. I.
 
 CHAPTEK XXIV. 
 
 A MORNING AT THE PRIOEY. 
 
 The morning after this interview was that on which 
 the Chief Baron had invited Colonel Sewell to 
 inspect his gardens and hothouses, a promise of 
 pleasure which, it is but fair to own, the Colonel 
 regarded with no extravagant delight. To his think- 
 ing, the old Judge was an insupportable Bore. His 
 courtesy, his smartness, his anecdotes, his reminis- 
 cences, were all Boredom. He was only endurable 
 when by the excess of his conceit he made himself 
 ridiculous. Then alone did Sewell relish his com- 
 pany; for he belonged to that class of men, and it is 
 a class, who feel their highest enjoyment whenever 
 they witness any trait in human nature that serves 
 to disparage its dignity or tarnish its lustre. 
 
 That a man of unquestionable ability and power 
 like the Chief Baron should render himself absurd, 
 through his vanity, was a great compensation to 
 such a person as Sewell. To watch the weaknesses
 
 A MORNING AT THE PEIORY. 291 
 
 and note the flaws in a great nature, to treasure up 
 the consolation that, after all, these "high intelli- 
 gences " occasionally make precious fools of them- 
 selves, are very congenial pastimes to small folk. 
 Perhaps, indeed, they are the sole features of such 
 men they are able to appreciate, and, like certain 
 reptiles, they never venture to bite save where cor- 
 ruption has preceded them. 
 
 J^othing in his manner betrayed this tendency — 
 he was polished and courteous to a degree. A very 
 critical eye might have detected in his bearing that 
 he had been long a subordinate. His deference 
 was a little — a very little — overstrained ; he listened 
 with a slight tinge of over-attention ; and in his 
 humility as he heard an order, and his activity as he 
 obeyed it, you could read at once the aide-de-camp 
 in waiting. 
 
 It is not necessary to remind the reader that all 
 this lacquer of good breeding covered a very coarse 
 and vulgar nature. In manner he was charming — 
 his approach, his address, his conversation, were all 
 perfect ; he knew well when to be silent — when to 
 concur by a smile with what he was not expected 
 to confirm by a word — when to seem suddenly con- 
 fronted with a new conviction, and how to yield 
 assent as though coerced to what he would rather 
 have resisted. In a word, he was perfect in aU the 
 training of those superb poodles who fetch and
 
 292 SIR BROOK FOSSBROOKE. 
 
 carry for their masters, that they may have the 
 recompense of snarling at all the rest of man- 
 kind. 
 
 As there are heaven-born doctors, lawyers, divines, 
 and engineers, so are there men specially created for 
 the antechamber, and Sewell was one of them. 
 
 The old Judge had given orders for a liberal 
 breakfast. He deemed a soldier's appetite would be 
 a hearty one, and he meant to treat him hospitably. 
 The table was therefore very generously spread, and 
 Sewell looked approvingly at the fare, and ventured 
 on a few words of compliment on the ample prepara- 
 tions before him. 
 
 " It is the only real breakfast-table I have seen 
 since I left Calcutta," said he, smiling graci- 
 ously. 
 
 "You do me honour, sir," replied the old man, 
 who was not quite sure whether or not he felt 
 pleased to be complimented on a mere domestic 
 incident. 
 
 Sewell saw the hitch at once, and resumed. " I 
 remember an observation Lord Commorton made 
 me, when I joined his staff in India. I happened 
 to make some remark on a breakfast, set out pretty 
 much like this, and he said, ' Bear in mind, Captain 
 Sewell, that when a man who holds a high function 
 sits down to a well-served breakfast, it means that 
 he has already completed the really important work
 
 A MORNING AT THE PRIORY. 293 
 
 of the day. The full head means the empty 
 stomach.' " 
 
 "His Excellency was right, sir; had he always 
 been inspired with sentiments of equal wisdom, we 
 should never have been involved in that unhappy 
 Cantankankarabad war." 
 
 "It was a very disastrous affair indeed," sighed 
 Sewell ; " I was through the whole of it." 
 
 "When I first heard of the project," continued the 
 Judge, " I remarked to a friend who was with me — 
 one of the leading men at the bar — * This campaign 
 will tarnish our arms, and imperil our hold on India. 
 The hill-tribes are eminently warlike, and however 
 specious in their promises to us, their fidelity to their 
 chiefs has never been shaken.' " 
 
 "If your judgment had been listened to, it would 
 have saved us a heavy reverse, and saved me a very 
 painful wound ; both bones were fractured here," said 
 Sewell, showing his wrist. 
 
 The Chief Baron scarcely deigned a glance at the 
 cicatrix ; he was high above such puny considera- 
 tions. He was at that moment Governor-General of 
 India and Prime Minister of England together. He 
 was legislating for hundreds of millions of dark skins, 
 and preparing his explanations of his policy for the 
 pale faces at home. 
 
 " ' Mark my words, Haire,' said I," continued the 
 Judge, with increased pomposity of manner, " ' this is
 
 294 SIR BROOK FOSSBROOKE. 
 
 the beginning of insurrection in India/ We have 
 a maxim in law, Colonel Sewell, Like case, like 
 rule. So was it there. May I help yon to this 
 curry?" 
 
 " I declare, my lord, I was beginning to forget how 
 hungry I was. Shall I be deemed impertinent if I 
 ask how you obtained your marvellous — for it is 
 marvellous — knowledge of India?" 
 
 "Just as I know the Japanese constitution; just 
 as I know Central Africa ; just as I know, and was 
 able to quote some time back, that curious chapter of 
 the Brehon laws on substitutes in penal cases. My 
 rule of life has been, never to pass a day without 
 increasing the store of my acquirements." 
 
 " And all this with the weighty charge and labour 
 of your high office ! " 
 
 "Yes, sir; I have been eighteen years on the 
 bench. I have delivered in that time some judg- 
 ments which have come to be deemed amongst the 
 highest principles of British law. I have contributed 
 largely to the periodical literature of the time. In a 
 series of papers — you may not have heard of them — 
 signed ' Icon,' in the ' Lawyer's Treasury of Useful 
 Facts,' I have defended the Bar against the aggressive 
 violence of the Legislature, I hope it is not too much 
 to say, triumphantly." 
 
 " I remember Judge Beale, our Indian Chief-Jus- 
 tice, referring to those papers as the most splendid
 
 A MORNING AT THE PRIORY. 295 
 
 statement of the position and claims of the barrister 
 in Great Britain." 
 
 " Beale was an ass, sir ; liis law was a shade below 
 his logic — both were pitiable." 
 
 " Indeed ? — yes, a little more gravy. Is your cook 
 a Proven9al — that omelette wonld seem to say 
 so." 
 
 "My cook is a woman, and an Irishwoman, sir. 
 She came to me from Lord Manners, and, I need not 
 say, with the worst traditions of her art, which, under 
 Lady Lendrick's training, attained almost to the dig- 
 nity of poisoning." 
 
 Sewell could not restrain himself any longer, but 
 laughed out at this sudden outburst. The old Judge 
 was, however, pleased to accept the emotion as com- 
 plimentary ; he smiled and went on — " I recognised 
 her aptitude, and resolved to train her, and to this 
 end I made it a practice to detain her every morning 
 after prayers, and read to her certain passages from 
 approved authors on cookery, making her experiment 
 on the receipts for the servants' hall. We had at 
 first some slight cases of illness, but not more serious 
 than colic and violent cramps. In the end she was 
 successful, sir, and has become what you see her." 
 
 " She would be a cordon hleu in Paris." 
 
 " I will take care, sir, that she hears of your ap- 
 proval. Would you not like a glass of Maraschino 
 to finish with ? "
 
 29G SIR BROOK FOSSBROOKE. 
 
 " I have just tasted your brandy, and it is exqui- 
 site." 
 
 " I cannot offer you a cigar, Colonel ; but you are 
 at liberty to smoke if you have one." 
 
 " If I might have a stroll in that delicious garden 
 that I see there, I could ask nothing better. Ah, my 
 lord," said he, as they sauntered down a richly scent- 
 ed alley, "India has nothing like this — I doubt if 
 Paradise has any better." 
 
 " You mean to return to the East ?" 
 
 " Not if I can help it — not if an exchange is pos- 
 sible. The fact is, my lord, my dear wife's health 
 makes India impossible, so far as she is concerned ; 
 the children, too, are of the age that requires removal 
 to Europe ; so that, if I go back, I go back alone." 
 He said this with a voice of deep depression, and 
 intending to inspire the sorrow that overwhelmed 
 him. The old Judge, however, fancied he had heard 
 of heavier calamities in life than living separated 
 from the wife of his bosom ; he imagined, at least, 
 that with courage and fortitude the deprivation 
 might be endured ; so he merely twitched the cor- 
 ners of his mouth in silence. 
 
 The Colonel misread his meaning, and went on : 
 "Aspiring to nothing in life beyond a home and 
 home-happiness, it is, of course, a heavy blow to me 
 to sacrifice either my career or my comfort. I cannot 
 possibly anticipate a return earlier than eight or ten
 
 A MOENING AT THE PEIORY. 297 
 
 years ; and who is to count upon eiglit or ten years 
 in that pestilent climate ? Assuredly not a man 
 already broken down by wounds and jungle fever 1" 
 
 The justice of the remark was, perhaps, sufficient 
 for the Chief Baron. He paid no attention to its 
 pathetic side, and so did not reply. 
 
 Sewell began to lose patience, but he controlled 
 himself, and, after a few puffs of his cigar, went on : 
 " If it were not for the children, I'd take the thing 
 easy enough. Half-pay is a beggarly thing, but I'd 
 put up with it. I'm not a man of expensive tastes. 
 If I can relish thoroughly such sumptuous fare as 
 you gave me this morning, I can put up with very 
 humble diet. I'm a regular soldier in that." 
 
 "An excellent quality, sir," said the old man, 
 dryly. 
 
 " Lucy, of course, would suffer. There are priva- 
 tions which fall very heavily on a woman, and a 
 woman, too, who has always been accustomed to a 
 good deal of luxury." 
 
 The Chief bowed an assent. 
 
 " I suppose I might get a depot appointment for a 
 year or two. I might also — if I sold out — manage a 
 barrackmastership, or become an inspector of yeo- 
 manry, or some such vulgar makeshift ; but I own, 
 my lord, when a man has filled the places I have — 
 held staff appointments — been a private secretary — 
 discharged high trusts, too, for in Mooraghabad I
 
 298 SIR BROOK FOSSBROOKE. 
 
 acted as Deputy-Eesident for eight montlis — it does 
 seem a precious come-down to ask to be made a pay- 
 master in a militia regiment, or a subaltern in the 
 mounted police." 
 
 " Civil life is always open to a man of activity and 
 energy," said the Judge, calmly. 
 
 " If civil life means a profession, it means the sort 
 of labour a man is very unfit for after five-and-thirty. 
 The Church, of course, is open on easier terms ; but 
 I have scruples about the Church. I really could not 
 take orders without I could conscientiously say, This 
 is a walk I feel called to." 
 
 " An honourable sentiment, sir," was the dry 
 rejoinder. 
 
 " So that the end will be, I suppose, one of these 
 days I shall just repack my bullock-trunk, and go 
 back to the place from whence I came, with the fate 
 that attends such backward journeys ! " 
 
 The Chief Baron made no remark. He stooped to 
 fasten a fallen carnation to the stick it had been 
 attached to, and then resumed his walk. Sewell was 
 so provoked by the sense of failure — for it had been 
 a direct assault — that he walked along silent and 
 morose. His patience could endure no longer, and 
 he was ready now to resent whatever should annoy 
 him. 
 
 " Have you any of the requirements, sir, that civil 
 services demand ?" asked the Judge, after a long pause.
 
 A MORNING AT THE PRIORY. 299 
 
 " I take it I have such as every educated gentle- 
 man possesses/' replied Sewell, tartly. 
 
 " And what may these be, in your estimation ? " 
 
 " I can read and write, I know the first three rules 
 of arithmetic, and I beKeve these are about the qua- 
 lifications that fit a man for a place in the cabinet." 
 
 " You are right, sir. With these, and the facility 
 to talk platitudes in Parliament, a man may go very 
 far and very high in life. I see that you know the 
 world." 
 
 Sewell, for a moment, scarcely knew whether to 
 accept the speech as irony or approval ; but a side- 
 long glance showed him that the old man's face had 
 resumed its expression of mingled insolence and 
 vanity, and convinced him that he was now sincere. 
 " The men," said the Judge, pompously, " who win 
 their way to high station in these days are either the 
 crafty tricksters of party or the gross flatterers of the 
 people; and whenever a man of superior mould is 
 discovered, able to leave his mark on the age, and 
 capable of making his nam^e a memory, they have 
 nothing better to offer him, as their homage, than 
 an entreaty that he would resign his office and 
 retire." 
 
 " I go with every word you say, my lord," cried 
 Sewell, with a well-acted enthusiasm. 
 
 '* I want no approval, sir ; I can sustain my opin- 
 ions without a following ! " A long silence ensued ;
 
 300 SIR BROOK FOSSBROOKE. 
 
 neither was disposed to speak; at last the Judge 
 said — and he now spoke in a more kindly tone, di- 
 vested alike of passion and of vanity — " Your friends 
 must see if something cannot be done for you, Colo- 
 nel Sewell. I have little doubt but that you have 
 many and warm friends. I speak not of myself; I 
 am but a broken reed to depend on. JSTever was 
 there one with less credit with his party. I might 
 go farther, and say, never was there one whose ad- 
 vocacy would be more sure to damage a good cause ; 
 therefore exclude me in all questions of your ad- 
 vancement. If you could obliterate our relation- 
 ship it might possibly serve you." 
 
 " I am too proud of it, my lord, to think so." 
 
 " Well, sir," said he, with a sigh, " it is possibly a 
 thing a man need not feel ashamed of, at least I hope 
 as much. But we must take the world as it is, and 
 when we want the verdict of public opinion, we must 
 not presume to ask for a special jury. What does 
 that servant want ? Will you have the kindness to 
 ask him whom he is looking for ? " 
 
 " It is a visitor's card, my lord," said Sewell, hand- 
 ing it to the old man as he spoke. 
 
 " There is some writing on it. Do me the favour 
 to read it." 
 
 SeweU took the card and read, " See Sir B. for me. 
 — Wilmington. Sir Brook Fossbrooke." The last 
 words Sewell spoke in a voice barely above a whis-
 
 A MOENING AT THE PRIORY. 301 
 
 per, for a deadly sickness came over him, and lie 
 swayed to and fro like one about to faint. 
 
 " What ! does he return to the charge ? " cried the 
 old man, fiercely. " The Viceroy was a diplomatist 
 once. Might it not have taught him that, after a 
 failure, it would be as well to employ another en- 
 voy?" 
 
 "You have seen this gentleman already then?" 
 asked Sewell, in a low faint tone. 
 
 " Yes, sir. We passed an hour and half together — 
 an hour and half that neither of us will easily forget." 
 
 " I conjecture, then, that he made no very favour- 
 able impression upon you, my lord ? " 
 
 " Sir, you go too fast. I have said nothing to war- 
 rant your surmise ; nor am I one to be catechised as 
 to the opinions I form of other men. It is enough 
 on the present occasion if I say I do not desire to 
 receive Sir Brook Fossbrooke, accredited though he 
 be from so high a quarter. Will you do me the very 
 great favour " — and now his voice became almost in- 
 sinuating in its tone — " will you so deeply oblige me 
 as to see him for me ? Say that I am prevented by 
 the state of my health ; that the rigorous injunctions 
 of my doctor to avoid all causes of excitement — lay 
 stress on excitement — deprive me of the honour of 
 receiving him in person ; but that you — mention our 
 relationship — have been deputed by me to licar, and 
 if necessary to convey to me, any communication he
 
 302 Sm BROOK FOSSBEOOKE. 
 
 may have to make. You will take care to impress 
 upon him that if the subject-matter of his visit be 
 the same as that so lately discussed between our- 
 selves, you will avail yourself of the discretion con- 
 fided to you not to report it to me. That my nerves 
 have not sufficiently recovered from the strain of 
 that excitement to return to a topic no less full of 
 irritating features than utterly hopeless of all accom- 
 modation. Mind, sir, that you employ the word as 
 I give it — ' accommodation.' It is a Gallicism, but 
 all the better, where one desires to be imperative, 
 and yet vague. You have your instructions, sir." 
 
 " Yes, T think I understand what you desire me 
 to do. My only difficulty is to know whether the 
 matters Sir Brook Fossbrooke may bring forward be 
 the same as those you discussed together. If I had 
 any clue to these topics, I should at once be in a 
 position to say — These are themes I must decline to 
 present to the Chief Baron." 
 
 " You have no need to know them, sir," said the 
 old man, haughtily. " You are in the position of an 
 attesting witness ; you have no dealing with the 
 body of the document. Ask Sir Brook the question 
 as I have put it, and reply as I have dictated.'' 
 
 Sewell stood for a moment in deep thought. Had 
 the old man but known over what realms of space 
 his mind was wandering — what troubles and per- 
 plexities that brain was encountering — he might
 
 A MORNING AT THE PEIORY. 303 
 
 have been more patient and more merciful as lie 
 gazed on him. 
 
 " I don't think, sir, I have confided to you any very- 
 difficult or very painful task," said the Judge at last. 
 
 '' Nothing of the kind, my lord," replied he, quick- 
 ly ; " my anxiety is only that I may acquit myself 
 to your perfect satisfaction. I'll go at once." 
 
 " You will find me here whenever you want me." 
 
 Sewell bowed, and went his way ; not straight to- 
 wards the house, however, but into a little copse at 
 the end of the garden, to recover his equanimity, and 
 collect himself. Of all the disasters that could befall 
 him, he knew of none he was less ready to con- 
 front than the presence of Sir Brook Fossbrooke in 
 the same town with himself. 'No suspicion ever 
 crossed his mind that he would come to Ireland. 
 The very last he had heard of him was in New Zea- 
 land, where it was said he was about to settle. What, 
 too, could be his business with the Chief Baron ? had 
 he discovered their relationship, and was he come 
 to denounce and expose him? No — evidently not. 
 The Viceroy's introduction of him could not 2:)oint in 
 this direction, and then the old Judge's own manner 
 negatived this conjecture. Had he heard but one of 
 the fifty stories Sir Brook could have told of him, 
 there would be no question of suffering liim to cross 
 his threshold. 
 
 " How shall I meet him ? how shall I address
 
 304 SIR BROOK FOSSBROOKE. 
 
 him ? " muttered he again and again to himself, as he 
 walked to and fro in a perfect agony of trouble and 
 perplexity. With almost any other man in the world 
 Sewell would have relied on his personal qualities 
 to carry him through a passage of difficulty. He 
 could assume a temper of complete imperturbability; 
 he could put on calm, coldness, deference, if needed, 
 to any extent ; he could have acted his part — it 
 would have been mere acting — as man of honour 
 and man of courage, to the life, with any other to 
 confront him but Sir Brook. 
 
 This, however, was the one man on earth who 
 knew him — the one man by whose mercy he was 
 able to hold up his head and maintain his station ; 
 and this one man should now be here ! here, within 
 a few yards of where he stood 1 
 
 " I could murder him as easily as I go to meet 
 him," muttered Sewell, as he turned towards the 
 house.
 
 CHAPTER XXV. 
 
 AN UNEXPECTED MEETING. 
 
 As Sir Brook sat in the library waiting for the 
 arrival of the Chief Baron, Lucy Lendrick came in to 
 look for a book she had been reading. " Only think, 
 sir," said she, flushing deeply with joy and astonish- 
 ment together — " to find you here ! What a delight- 
 ful surprise !" 
 
 "I have come, my dear child," said he, gravely, 
 '^to speak with Sir William on a matter of some 
 importance, and evidently he is not aware that my 
 moments are precious, for I have been here above 
 half an hour alone." 
 
 " But now that I am with you," said she, coquet- 
 tishly, ''you'll surely not be so churlish of your 
 time, will you?" 
 
 "There is no churlishness, my darling Lucy, in 
 honest thrift. I have nothing to give away." The 
 deep sadness of his voice showed how intensely his 
 words were charged with a stronger significance. 
 "We are off to-night." 
 
 VOL. I. U
 
 .306 SIK BROOK FOSSBROOKE. 
 
 " To-mght ! " cried she, eagerly. 
 
 "Yes, Lucy. It's no great banishment — only to 
 an island in the Mediterranean, and Tom came up 
 here with me in the vague, very vague, hope he 
 might s6e you. I left him in the shrubbery near 
 the gate, for he would not consent to come farther." 
 
 "I'll go to him at once. We shall meet again," 
 said she, as she opened the sash-door and hastened 
 down the lawn at speed. 
 
 After another wait of full a quarter of an hour, 
 Fossbrooke's patience became exhausted, and he 
 drew nigh the bell to summon a servant ; his hand 
 was on the rope, when the door opened, and Sewell 
 entered. "Whatever astonishment Fossbrooke might 
 have felt at this unexpected appearance, nothing in 
 his manner or look betrayed it. As for Sewell, all 
 his accustomed ease had deserted him, and he came 
 forward with an air of assumed swagger, but his 
 colour came and went, and his hands twitched almost 
 convulsively. 
 
 He bowed, and, smiHng courteously, invited Foss- 
 brooke to be seated. Haughtily drawing himseK 
 up to his full height. Sir Brook said, in his own 
 deep sonorous voice, " There can be nothing between 
 us, sir, that cannot be dismissed in a moment — and 
 as we stand." 
 
 "As you please, sir," rejoined SeweU, with an 
 attempt at the same haughty tone. " I have been
 
 AN UNEXPECTED MEETING. 307 
 
 deputed by my step-father, tlie Cliief Baron, to 
 make his excuses for not receiving you — his health 
 forbids the excitement. It is his wish that you 
 may make to me whatever communication you had 
 destined for him." 
 
 ''Which I refuse, sir, at once," interrupted Sir 
 Brook. 
 
 " I opine, then, there is no more to be said," said 
 Sewell, with a faint smile. 
 
 " ISTothing more, sir — not a word ; unless perhaps 
 you will be gracious enough to explain to the Chief 
 Baron the reasons — they cannot be unknown to 
 you — why I refuse all and any communication with 
 Colonel Sewell." 
 
 " I have no presumption to read your miQd and 
 know your thoughts," said Sewell, with quiet polite- 
 ness. 
 
 " You would discover nothing in either to your 
 advantage, sir," said Fossbrooke, defiantly. 
 
 " Might I add, sir," said Sewell, with an easy 
 smile, " that all your malevolence cannot exceed my 
 indifference to it ? " 
 
 Fossbrooke waved his hand haughtily, as though 
 to dismiss the subject and all discussion of it, and 
 after a few seconds' pause said, " We have a score 
 that must be settled one day. I have deferred the 
 reckoning out of reverence to the memory of one 
 whose name must not be uttered between us, but
 
 308 SIE BEOOK FOSSBROOKE. 
 
 the day for it shall come. Meanwhile, sir, you shall 
 pay me interest on your debt." 
 
 " What do you assume me to owe you ?" asked 
 Sewell, whose agitation could no longer be masked. 
 
 " You would laugh if I said, your character before 
 the world and the repute through which men keep 
 your company ; but you will not laugh — no, sir, 
 not even smile — when I say that you owe me the 
 liberty by which you are at large, instead of being, 
 as I could prove you, a forger and a felon." 
 
 Sewell threw a hurried and terrified look around 
 the room, as though there might possibly be some 
 to overhear the words ; he grasped the back of a 
 chair to steady himself, and in the convulsive effort 
 seemed as if he was about to commit some act of 
 violence. 
 
 " None of that, sir," said Fossbrooke, folding his 
 arms. 
 
 " I meant nothing ; I intended nothing ; I was 
 faint, and wanted support," stammered out Sewell 
 in a broken voice. "What do you mean by in- 
 terest? how am I to pay interest on an indefinite 
 sum?" 
 
 "It may relieve you of some anxiety to learn 
 that I am not speaking of money in the interest 
 I require of you. What I want — what I shall exact 
 
 — is this, that you and yours " he stopped, and 
 
 grew scarlet; the fear lest something coarse or
 
 AN UNEXPECTED MEETING. 309 
 
 offensive might fall from him in a moment of heat 
 and anger arrested his words, and he was silent 
 
 Sewell saw all the difficulty. A less adroit man 
 would have deemed the moment favourable to assert 
 a triumph ; Sewell was too acute for this, and waited 
 without speaking a word. 
 
 " My meaning is this," said Fossbrooke, in a voice 
 of emotion. " There is a young lady here for whom 
 I have the deepest interest. I desire that, so long 
 as she lives estranged from her father's roof, she 
 should not be exposed to other influences than such 
 as she has met there. She is new to life and the 
 world, and I would not that she should make ac- 
 quaintance with them through any guidance save of 
 her own nearest and dearest friends." 
 
 " I hear, sir ; but, I am free to own, I greatly mis- 
 trust myself to appreciate your meaning." 
 
 " I am sorry for it," said Fossbrooke, sighing. " I 
 wanted to convey my hope that, in your intercourse 
 here. Miss Lendrick might be spared the perils of — 
 of " 
 
 " My wife's friendship, you would say, sir," said 
 Sewell, with a perfect composure of voice and 
 look. 
 
 Fossbrooke hung his head. Shame and sorrow 
 alike crushed him down. that the day should 
 come when he could speak thus of Frank Dillon's 
 daughter !
 
 310 SIR BROOK FOSSBROOKE. 
 
 " I will not say witli what pain I liear you, Sir 
 Brook/' said Sewell, in a low gentle voice. " I am 
 certain that you never uttered such a speech without 
 much suffering. It will alleviate your fears when I 
 tell you that we only remain a few days in town. I 
 have taken a country house, some sixty or seventy 
 miles from the capital, and we mean to live there 
 entirely." 
 
 " I am satisfied," said Sir Brook, whose eagerness 
 to make reparation was now extreme. 
 
 " Of course I shall mention nothing of this to my 
 wife," said Sewell. 
 
 " Of course not, sir ; save with such an explana- 
 tion as I could give of my meaning, it would be an 
 outrage." 
 
 "I was not aware that there was — that there 
 could be — an explanation," said Sewell, quietly; 
 and then seeing the sudden flash that shot from the 
 old man's eyes, he added hastily, " This is far too 
 painful to dwell on — let it suffice, sir, that I fully 
 understand you, and that you shall be obeyed." 
 
 " I ask no more," said Fossbrooke, bowing 
 slightly. 
 
 " You will comprehend, Sir Brook," resumed Sewell, 
 " that as I am precluded from making this conversa- 
 tion known to my wife, I shall not be able to limit 
 any intimacy between her and Miss Lendrick farther 
 than by such intimations and hints as I may ofi'er
 
 AN UNEXPECTED MEETING. 311 
 
 without exciting suspicion. It miglit happen, for 
 instance, that in coming up to town we should be Sir 
 William's guests. Am I to suppose that you interdict 
 this?" 
 
 " I hope I am not capable of such a condition," 
 said Sir Brook, flushing, for at every step and stage of 
 the negotiation he felt that his zeal had outrun his 
 judgment, and that he was attempting, not only more 
 than he could, but more than he ought to do. 
 
 " In fairness. Sir Brook," said Sewell, with an 
 assumed candour that sat very well on him, '' I ought 
 to tell you that your conditions are very easy ones. 
 My wife has come to this country to recruit her 
 health and look after her children. I myself shall 
 probably be on my way back to India soon after 
 Christmas. Our small means totally preclude living 
 in the gay world ; and," added he with a laugh, " if 
 we really had any blandishments or captivations at 
 our disposal, they would be best bestowed on the 
 Horse Guards, to extend my leave, or assist me to an 
 exchange." 
 
 There was high art in the way in which Sewell 
 had so contrived to get the old man involved in the 
 conflict of his own feelings, that he was actually 
 grateful for the easy and even familiar tone employed 
 towards him. 
 
 " I have wounded this man deeply," said Foss- 
 brooke to himself. " I have said to him thin«^s alike
 
 312 SIR BROOK FOSSBROOKE. 
 
 unfeeling and -ungenerous, and yet he has temper 
 enough to treat me amicably, even courteously." 
 
 It was almost on his lips to say that he had still 
 some influence with the Horse Guards, that a great 
 man there had been one of his most intimate friends 
 in life, and that he was ready to do anything in his 
 power with him, when a sudden glance at Sewell's 
 face recalled him at once to himself, and he stam- 
 mered out — "I will detain you no longer, sir. Be 
 kind enough to explain to the Lord Chief Baron, that 
 my communication was of a character that could not 
 be made indirectly. His Excellency's name on my card 
 probably suggested as much. It might be proper to 
 add, that the subject was one solely attaching to his 
 lordship, and to his lordship's interest. He will 
 himself understand what I mean." 
 
 Sewell bowed acquiescence. As he stood at the 
 half-open door, he was disposed to offer his hand. It 
 was a bold step, but he knew if it should succeed it 
 would be a great victory. The opportunity was too 
 good to be lost, and just as Sir Brook turned to say 
 good-morning, Sewell, like one carried away by a 
 sudden impulse, held out his hand, and said, " You 
 may trust me, Sir Brook." 
 
 " If you wish me to do so, sir, let me not touch 
 your hand," said the old man, with a look of stern 
 and haughty defiance, and he strode out without a 
 farewell.
 
 AN UNEXPECTED MEETING. 313 
 
 Sewell staggered back into the room and sat down. 
 A clammy cold perspiration covered his face and 
 forehead, for the rancour that filled' his heart sickened 
 him like a malady. " You shall pay for this — by 
 heaven ! you shall," muttered he, as he wiped the 
 great drops from his brow. " The old fool himself 
 has taught me where he was vulnerable, and as I 
 live he shall feel it." 
 
 " His lordshijD wants to see you, sir ; he is in the 
 garden," said a servant, and Sewell rose and followed 
 him. He stopped twice as he went to compose his 
 features and regain his calm. On the last time he 
 even rehearsed the few words and the smile by which 
 he meant to accost the Judge. The little artifice was 
 however forestalled, as Sir William met him abruptly 
 with the words — " What a time you have been, sir, — 
 forty-eight minutes by my watch." 
 
 " I assure you, my lord, I'd have made it shorter 
 if I could," said Sewell, with a smile of some sig- 
 nificance. 
 
 " I am unable to see why you could not have done 
 so. The charge I gave you was to report to me, not 
 to negotiate on your own part." 
 
 " Nor did I, my lord. Sir Brook Eossbrooke dis- 
 tinctly declared that he would only communicate 
 with yourself personally — that what he desired to 
 say referred to yourself, and should be answered by 
 yourself."
 
 314 SIR BROOK FOSSBROOKE. -. 
 
 " On hearing which, sir, you withdrew ? " 
 
 " So far as your lordship was concerned, no more 
 was said between us. "V\niat passed after this I may 
 be permitted to call private." 
 
 ''What, sir! You see a person in my house, at 
 my instance, and with my instructions — who comes 
 to see and confer with me; and you have the hardi- 
 hood to tell me that you took that opportunity to 
 discuss questions which you call private ! " 
 
 " I trust, my lord, you will not press me in this 
 matter ; my position is a most painful one." 
 
 " It is worse than painful, sir ; it is humiliating. 
 But," added he, after a short pause, " I have reason 
 to be grateful to you. You have rescued me from 
 perhaps a very grave indiscretion. Your position — 
 your wife's health — your children's welfare, had all 
 interested me. I might have — no matter what, sir. 
 I have recovered the balance of my mind. I am 
 myself again." 
 
 " My lord, I will be open with you." 
 
 " I will accept of no forced confidences, sir," said 
 the Judge, waving his hand haughtily. 
 
 " They are not forced, my lord, farther than my 
 dislike to give you pain renders them so. The man 
 to whom you sent me this morning is no stranger to 
 me — would that he had been! — would that I had 
 never known nor heard of him ! Very few words will 
 explain why, my lord ; I only entreat that, before I
 
 AN UNEXPECTED MEETING. 316 
 
 say them, tliey may be in strictest confidence be- 
 tween us." 
 
 " If tliey require secrecy, sir, they shall have it." 
 
 " Quite enough, my lord — amply sufficient for me 
 is this assurance. This person, then, my lord, was 
 the old friend and brother officer of Sir Frank Dillon, 
 my father-in-law. They lived as young men in closest 
 friendship together, shared perils, amusements, and 
 purse together. Eor many years nothing occurred to 
 interrupt the relations between them, though frequent 
 remonstrances from Dillon's family against the inti- 
 macy might possibly have caused a coolness ; for the 
 world had begun to talk of Fossbrooke with a certain 
 distrust, comparing his mode of living with the 
 amount of his fortune, and half hinting that his 
 successes at play were more than accidental. 
 
 " Still Dillon held to him, and to break the tie at 
 last his family procured an Indian appointment for 
 him, and sent him to Calcutta. Fossbrooke no sooner 
 heard of it than he sold off his town house and horses, 
 and actually sailed in the same packet with him." 
 
 " Let us sit down, Colonel Sewell ; I am wearied 
 with walking, and I should like to hear the remainder 
 of this story." 
 
 " I will make it very brief, my lord. Here is a 
 nice bench to rest on. Arrived in India, they com- 
 menced a style of living the most costly and extra- 
 vagant imaginable. Their receptions, their dinners,
 
 316 SIR BROOK FOSSBROOKE. 
 
 tlieir equipages, their retinues, completely eclipsed 
 the splendours of the native princes. For a while 
 these were met promptly by ready money; later on 
 came bills, at first duly met, and at last dishonoured. 
 On investigation, however, it was found that the 
 greater number — far the greater number — of the 
 acceptances were issued by Dillon alone — a circum- 
 stance which puzzled none so much as Dillon himself, 
 wdio never remembered the emergencies that had 
 called for them." 
 
 "They were forgeries by Fossbrooke," said the 
 Judge. 
 
 " You are right, my lord ; they were, but so adroitly 
 done that Dillon was the first to declare the signa- 
 tures his own ; nor was the fraud ever discovered. 
 To rescue his friend, as it were, Dillon sold off every- 
 thing, and paid, I know not what amount, and they 
 both left for Ceylon, where Dillon was named Com- 
 mander of the Forces. 
 
 " Here DiUon married, and on the birth of his first 
 child, Fossbrooke w^as the godfather, their affection 
 being stronger than ever. Once more the life of ex- 
 travagance burst forth, and now, besides the costly 
 household and reckless expenditure, the stories of 
 play became rife and frequent, several young fellows 
 being obliged to leave the service and sell their com- 
 missions to meet their debts. The scandal reached 
 England, and Dillon was given his choice to resign
 
 AN UNEXPECTED MEETING. 317 
 
 or resume active service at his old rank. He accept- 
 ed the last, and went back to India. For a while 
 they were separated. My father-in-law made a bril- 
 liant campaign, concluding with the victory of Attey- 
 ghur. He was named Political Eesident at the seat 
 of government, and found himself in the receipt of a 
 large revenue, and might in a few years have become 
 wealthy and honoured. His evil genius, however, 
 was soon at his side. Fossbrooke arrived, as he said, 
 to see him before leaving for Europe ; he never left 
 him till his death. From that day dated my father- 
 in-law's inevitable ruin. Maladministration, corrup- 
 tion, forced loans on every side. Black-mail was 
 imposed on all the chiefs, and a system of iniquity 
 instituted that rendered the laws a farce, and the 
 office of judge a degradation. 
 
 " Driven almost to desperation by his approaching 
 ruin, and yet blind to the cause of it. Sir Frank took 
 service against the AfFghans, and fell, severely 
 wounded, at Walhalla. Fossbrooke followed him to 
 the Hills, where he went to die. The infatuation of 
 that fatal man was unbroken, and on his deathbed 
 he not only confided to him all the deeds and docu- 
 ments that concerned his fortune, but gave him the 
 guardianship and control of his daughter. In the 
 very last letter he ever penned are these words : — 
 ' Scandal may some day or other dare to asperse him 
 (Sir Brook) — the best have no immunity on that
 
 318 SIR BUOOK FOSSBROOKE. 
 
 score — but I charge you, however fortune may deal 
 with you, share it with him if he need it — ^your 
 father never had so true, so noble, so generous a 
 friend. Have full courage in any course he approves 
 of, and never distrust yourself so completely as when 
 he differs from you; above all, believe no ill of 
 him/ 
 
 " I have seen this letter — I have read it more than 
 once ; and with my full knowledge of the man, with 
 my memory stored with stories about him, it was 
 very hard to see him exercise an influence in my 
 house, and a power over my wife. For a while I 
 tried to respect what had been the faith of her child- 
 hood ; I could not bear to destroy what formed one 
 of the links that bound her to her father's memory ; 
 but the man's conduct obliged me to abandon this 
 clemency. He insisted on living upon us, and living 
 in a style, not merely costly, but openly, flagrantly 
 disreputable. Of his manner to myself I will not 
 speak ; he treated me not alone as a dependant, but 
 as one whose character and fortune were in liis 
 hands. To what comments this exposed me in my 
 own house I leave you to imagine : I remonstrated 
 at first, but my endurance became exhausted, and 
 I turned him from my house. 
 
 " Then began his persecution of me — not alone of 
 myself, but my wife, and all belonging to me. I 
 must not dwell on this, or I should forget myself.
 
 AN UNEXPECTED MEETING. 319 
 
 " We left India; hoping never to hear more of him. 
 
 " There was a story that he had gone on a visit to 
 a Eajah in Oude, and would in all likelihood live 
 there till he died. Imagine what I felt, my lord, when 
 I read his name on that visiting-card. I knew, of 
 course, what his presence meant, a pretended matter 
 of business with you — the real object being to traduce 
 and vilify me. He had ascertained the connection 
 between us, and determined to turn it to profit. So 
 long as I followed my career in India — a poor soldier 
 of fortune — I was not worth persecution ; but here at 
 home, with friends, possibly with friends able and 
 willing to aid me, I at once assumed importance in 
 his eyes.. He weU. knows how dear to us is the 
 memory of my wife's father, what sacrifices we have 
 made, what sacrifices we would make again, that his 
 name should not be harshly dealt with by the world. 
 He feels, too, all the power and weight he can wield 
 by that letter of poor Dillon's, given so frankly, so 
 trustfully, and so unfortunately, on his deathbed. In 
 one word, my lord, this man has come back to Europe 
 to exert over me the pressure which he once on a 
 time used over my father-in-law. For reasons I can- 
 not fathom, the great people who knew him once, and 
 who ought to know whom and what he has become, 
 are still willing to acknowledge him. It is true he 
 no longer frequents their houses and mixes in their 
 society— but they recognise him. The very card he
 
 320 SIR BROOK FOSSBROOKE. 
 
 sent in this morning bore the Viceroy's name — and 
 from this cause alone, even if there were not others, 
 he would be dangerous. I weary you, my lord, and 
 I will conclude. By an accidental admission he let 
 drop that he would soon leave Ireland for a while ; 
 let it seem, my lord, so long as he remains here, that 
 I am less intimate here, less frequent as a visitor, 
 than he has imagined. Let him have grounds to im- 
 agine that my presence here was a mere accident, 
 and that I am not at all likely to enjoy any share of 
 your lordship's favour — in fact, let him believe me as 
 friendless here as he saw me in India, and he will 
 cease to speculate on persecuting me." 
 
 "There would be an indignity in such a course, 
 sir," cried the Judge, fiercely ; " the man has no ter- 
 rors for me." 
 
 " Certainly not, my lord, nor for me personally ; I 
 speak on my wife's behalf ; it is for her sake and for 
 her peace of mind I am alone thinking here." 
 
 " I will speak to her myself on this head." 
 
 " I entreat you not, my lord. I implore you never 
 to approach the subject. She has for years been torn 
 between the terrible alternative of obeying the last 
 injunctions of her father or yielding to the wishes 
 of her husband. Her life has been a continual 
 struggle, and her shattered health has been the conse- 
 quence. No, my lord; let us go down for a few weeks 
 or months — as it may be — to this country place
 
 AN UNEXPECTED MEETING. 321 
 
 they have taken for iis ; a little quietness will do ns 
 both good. My leave will not expire till IMarch ; 
 there is still time to look about me." 
 
 " Something shall be done for you, sir," said the 
 Judge, pompously. Sewell bowed low ; he knew 
 how to make his bow a very deep acknowledgment 
 of gratitude ; he knew the exact measure of deference, 
 and trustfulness, and thankfulness to throw into his 
 expression as he bent his head, while he seemed too 
 much overpowered to speak. 
 
 " Yes, sir, you shall be cared for," said the old 
 man. "And if this person, this Sir Brook Foss- 
 brooke, return here, it is with ms he will have to 
 deal — not you!' 
 
 '' My lord, I entreat you never to admit him ; 
 neither see nor correspond with him. The man is a 
 desperado, and holds his own life too cheap to care 
 for another's." 
 
 " Sir, you only pique my curiosity to meet with 
 him. I have heard of such fellows, but never saw 
 one." 
 
 " From all I have heard, my lord, your courage 
 requires no proofs." 
 
 " You have heard the truth, sir. It has been tested 
 in every way, and found without alloy. Tliis man 
 came here a few days ago to ask me to nominate my 
 grandson to an office in my gift ; but, save a lesson 
 for his temerity, he 'took nothing by liis motion.'" 
 
 VOL. I. X
 
 322 SIR BROOK FOSSBROOKE. 
 
 The old Judge walked Tip and down with short im- 
 patient steps, his eyebrows moving fiercely, and his 
 mouth twitching angrily. "The Viceroy must be 
 taught that it is not through such negotiators he can 
 treat with men like myself. We hear much about 
 the dignity of the Bench ; I would that his Excel- 
 lency should know that the respect for it is a homage 
 to be rendered by the highest as well as the lowest, 
 and that I for one will accept of nothing less than 
 all the honours that befit my station." 
 
 Eelieved, as it were, by this outburst of vanity, 
 his heart unburdened of a load of self-conceit, the 
 old man felt freer and better ; and in the sigh he 
 heaved there seemed a something that indicated a 
 sense of alleviation. Then, turning to Sewell, with 
 a softened voice, he said, " How grieved I am that 
 you should have passed such a morning ! It was 
 certainly not what I had intended for you." 
 
 " You are too good to me, my lord — far too good, 
 and too thoughtful of me," said Sewell, with emotion. 
 " I am one of those men who must go to the grave 
 misconstrued and misrepresented. He who would 
 be firm in an age of cowardice, he who would be just 
 in an age of jobbery, cannot fail to be calumniated. 
 But, sir, there is a moral stature, as there is a mate- 
 rial stature, that requires distance for its proportions ; 
 and it is possible posterity will be more just to me 
 than my contemporaries."
 
 AN UNEXPECTED MEETING. 323 
 
 " I would only hope, my lord, that the time for 
 such a judgment may be long deferred." 
 
 " You are a courtier, sir," said the Judge, smiling. 
 " It was amongst courtiers I passed my early youth, 
 and I like them. When I Avas a young man, Colonel 
 Sewell, it was the fashion to make the tour of Europe 
 as a matter of education and good breeding. The 
 French court was deemed, and justly deemed, the 
 first school of manners, and I firmly believe France 
 herself has suffered in her forms of politeness from 
 having ceased to be the centre of suj)ply to the world. 
 She adulterated the liquor as the consumers decreased 
 in taste and increased in number." 
 
 " How neatly, how admirably expressed ! " said 
 Sewell, bowing. 
 
 " I had some of that gift once," said the old man, 
 with a sigh ; " but it is a weajoon out of use now- 
 adays. Epigram has its place in a museum now as 
 rightfully as an Andrea Ferrara." 
 
 "I declare, my lord, it is two o'clock. Here is 
 your servant coming to announce luncheon. I am 
 ashamed to think what a share of your day I have 
 monopolised." 
 
 " You will stay and take some mutton broth, I 
 hope ?" 
 
 " No, my lord. I never eat luncheon ; and I am, 
 besides, horrified at inflicting you so long already." 
 
 " Sir, if I suffer many of the miseries of old age, I
 
 324 SIR BROOK FOSSBROOKE. 
 
 avail myself of some of its few privileges. One of 
 the best of these is, never to be bored. I am old and 
 feeble enough to be able to say to him who wearies 
 me, Leave me — leave me to myself and my own 
 dreariness. Had you ' inflicted ' me, as you call it, 
 I'd have said as much two hours ago. Your com- 
 pany was, however, most agreeable. You know how 
 to talk ; and, what is rarer, you know how to listen." 
 
 Sewell bowed respectfully and in silence. 
 
 " I wish the school that trains aides-de-camp could 
 be open to junior barristers and curates," muttered 
 he, half to himself; then added aloud, " Come and see 
 me soon again. Come to breakfast, or, if you prefer 
 it, to dinner. We dine at seven ;" and without fur- 
 ther adieu than a slight wave of his hand, he turned 
 away and entered the house. 
 
 END OF THE FIRST VOLUME. 
 
 pniNTF.D BY WILLTAM BLACKWOOD AND SONS, EDINBURGH.