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 A VICTIM OF GOOD LUCK
 
 1Rew Si j^S billing IRopels. 
 
 THE MANXMAN. By Hall Caine. 
 
 THE HEAVENLY TWINS. By Sarah Grand. Fortieth 
 
 Thousand. 
 
 IDEALA. By Sarah Grand. Tenth Thousand. 
 OUR MANIFOLD NATURE. By Sarah Grand, 
 THE STORY OF A MODERN WOMAN. By Ella Hepworth 
 
 DlXOK. 
 
 A SUPERFLUOUS WOMAN. New Edition. Sixth Thousand. 
 
 THE COUNTESS RADNA. By W. E. Norris. 
 
 FROM THE FIVE RIVERS. By Flora Annie Steel. 
 
 RELICS. Fragments of a Life. By FRA^•CES MacNab. 
 
 A RECIPE FOR DIAMONDS. By C. J. Cutcliffe Hyne. 
 
 THE LAST SENTENCE. By Maxwell Gray. Sixth 
 Thousand. 
 
 THE TOWER OF TADDEO. By Olida. New Edition, with 
 
 Illustrations by Holland Tringham. 
 
 THE KING OF SCHNORRERS. By I. Zangwill. Illustrated. 
 
 CHILDREN OF THE GHETTO. By I. Zangwill. Eighth 
 
 Thousand. 
 
 THE PREMIER AND THE PAINTER. By I. Zangwill and 
 Louis Cowen. Third Edition. 
 
 THE NAULAHKA. By Rudyard Kipling and Wolcott 
 Balestier. Second Edition. 
 
 THE O'CONNORS OF BALLINAHINCH. By I\Irs. Hunger- 
 ford. 
 
 APPASSIONATA. By Elsa d'Esterre Keeling. 
 AVENGED ON SOCIETY. By H. F. Wood. 
 
 A COMEDY OF MASKS. By Ernest Dowson and Arthur 
 
 Moore. 
 
 THE JUSTIFICATION OF ANDREW LEBRUN. By Frank 
 Barrett. 
 
 LONDON : WM. HEINEMANN, 21 Bedford St., W.C. 
 A fid at ail Booksellers and Bookstalls.
 
 VICTIM OF GOOD LUCK 
 
 A NOVEL 
 
 BY 
 
 W. E. N ORRIS 
 
 AUTHOR OF '"THE COUNTESS RADXA," ETC. 
 
 IN TWO VOLUMES 
 VOL. L 
 
 LONDON 
 WILLIAM H E I N E M A N N 
 
 1894 
 
 \All rights reserved.'\
 
 23.5 
 
 2 
 
 \ 
 
 ^ 
 
 4 CONTENTS OF VOL. I. 
 
 r 
 
 CHAPTER PAGE 
 
 I. THE RECTOR OF HARBURY VALE - - I 
 
 II. VERONICA - - - - - 17 
 
 III. THE PREACHER AND THE POET - "32 
 
 IV. VERONICA MAKES INQUIRIES - - - 48 
 V. THE INJURED INNOCENT - - - 62 
 
 VI. A FRIENDLY COMPACT - - - 80 
 
 VII. DOLLY CRADOCK - - - - 94 
 
 VIII. COMPLICATIONS - - - - II I 
 
 IX. VERONICA IS HIGHLY COMPLIMENTED- - 1 25 
 
 X. AN INCOMPLETE EXPLANATION - " 14I 
 
 XL ENOUGH OF IT - - - ' "155 
 
 ^:^ XII. HORACE CUTS A POOR FIGURE - - 1 69 
 
 XIII. THE NEW ORDER OF THINGS - - - 1 86 
 N 
 
 \ 
 
 ^ 
 
 \* 
 
 ^
 
 Digitized by the Internet Archive 
 
 in 2010 with funding from 
 
 University of Illinois Urbana-Champaign 
 
 http://www.archive.org/details/victimofgoodluck01nor
 
 VICTIM OF GOOD LUCK 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 THE RECTOR OF HARBURY VALE. 
 
 The Reverend John Dimsdale was seated in his 
 study, one fine spring morning, wresthng with the 
 composition of a discourse, to be dehvered on the 
 coming Sunday. Although he had for many years 
 been in the habit of preaching without notes, it was, 
 nevertheless, necessary that his sermons should be 
 well thought out in advance, and he had not found 
 that any great economy of time was effected by the 
 abandonment of pen and paper. For he was a ner- 
 vous, conscientious, irritable man — as anybody might 
 have discovered by a glance at his high, wrinkled 
 forehead, his bald head, his twitching lips and the 
 long thin fingers, which kept plucking his gray beard 
 
 VOL. I. I
 
 A VICTIM OF GOOD LUCK 
 
 — and he always tried hard not to scamp his work, 
 distasteful as a large portion of it was to him. At 
 Harbury Vale, of which country parish in the Thames 
 valley he had been rector for so long that he had 
 quite ceased to dream of possible preferment, he 
 was accounted a very fine preacher, and people who 
 came from as far off as Windsor and Reading on 
 purpose to hear him seldom went away disappointed. 
 Probably not one in a hundred guessed how much 
 he hated preaching. Fluency, and even occasional 
 eloquence, he ought to have known that he possessed; 
 but, as a matter of fact, he could not feel sure of 
 himself Like those self-distrustful persons who have 
 escaped sea-sickness through a score of voyages, yet 
 who never set foot on shipboard without an inward 
 sinking of the heart, he had no confidence in his 
 own invincibility, and the possibility of a disastrous 
 breakdown was always before his eyes. 
 
 On this particular morning he was more than 
 usually worried. " Set your affections on things 
 above, not on things of the earth " was to be the 
 theme of his homily, and he was conscious of being 
 altogether out of harmony with it. The principle, 
 of course, was sound, and might be supported by 
 the customary commonplace reflections, but poor
 
 THE RECTOR OF HARBURY VALE 3 
 
 Mr. Dimsdale did not want to be more common- 
 place than he could help, and he had not, so far, 
 been able to see his way to any original utterances. 
 He pushed his chair back from the table, got up and 
 began to pace restlessly about the room, rumpling 
 his sparse hair with both hands. 
 
 *' ' Fret not thyself, and verily thou shalt be fed ' 
 , . . Oh, dear ! what dreadful nonsense that sounds ! 
 As if any man was likety to get bread and butter 
 unless he fretted himself ... or even if he did ! 
 Well, there's something in that. It isn't the fretting 
 that earns the bread and butter — it's the quiet, 
 persistent performance of daily duties. At any rate, 
 one might be justified in saying so, though it does 
 seem to me that a man may perform his daily 
 duties in a quiet, persistent way for a great number 
 of years and yet not know where to turn for a five- 
 pound note at the end of them. ' The world is too 
 much with us ' . . . Yes, but that isn't always our 
 fault. Troubles come, emergencies arise, and we 
 have to deal with them ; it's monstrous to tell an 
 unfortunate fellow that he ought to have faith 
 and believe that all is ordered for the best. Your 
 daughters marry poor curates and have babies every 
 year, and if you don't help them out, nobody will ;
 
 A VICTIM OF GOOD LUCK 
 
 your only son gets plucked for the army, and seems 
 to think it rather a good joke than otherwise. 
 It is as much as you can do to pay the weekly 
 bills . . . and upon the top of all that, you must 
 needs exhort your fellow-sufferers to take no heed 
 for the morrow !" 
 
 The Rector walked to the window and rested his 
 burning forehead upon the glass. Outside, the sun 
 was shining brightly upon the lawn, upon the yellow 
 crocuses and the Lent-lilies ; a missel-thrush, perched 
 upon a bare bough, was singing exultant defiance to 
 the east wand ; the horse-chestnut buds were burst- 
 ing. It would have been pleasant to go out for a 
 walk and get rid of the cobwebs, but that was not to 
 be thought of Work must be done first, and there 
 was not too much time left to do it in. Naturally, 
 therefore, the slow creak of the opening door was a 
 sound to be resented. 
 
 It was Mrs. Dimsdale, who, with a copy of the 
 Times in her hand, had come in to say, " What do 
 you think, John ? Old Mr. Trevor is dead." 
 
 " Well, my dear," the Rector returned rather 
 crossly, " really I can't help it if he is. / didn't kill 
 him." 
 
 Mrs. Dimsdale seated herself in one of the worn.
 
 THE RECTOR OF HARBURY VALE 5 
 
 leather-covered arm-chairs and laughed. She was 
 a stout, comfortable-looking matron, who had had 
 her share of good looks in days gone by, and whose 
 rounded cheeks were not disfigured by the lines with 
 which care had furrowed those of her husband. 
 
 *'But it's most interesting, you know," she pro- 
 tested. " Are you still up in the clouds, John ? 
 Have you forgotten who Mr. Trevor was ?" 
 
 " I have not forgotten, nor am I likely to forget," 
 answered the Rector, "what a thorn Mr. Trevor 
 has been in the side of his bishop and of the Church. 
 I believe him to have been honest, though bigoted 
 and mischievous. At the same time, Elizabeth, I 
 must ask you to postpone all discussion of his merits 
 or demerits to some other occasion. I have my 
 sermon to think out, and " 
 
 " Sit down, John, and don't get into a state of 
 mind. You know how useless it is for you to re- 
 hearse sermons when you are not in the temper for 
 them. I can see by your face that you have come 
 to a knot ; and at such moments there is only one 
 thing to be done — drop the subject. I am very 
 sorry I didn't interrupt you sooner. Now I am 
 going to read you what the Times says about Mr. 
 Trevor. It is under the heading of * Obituary,' and
 
 6 A VICTIM OF GOOD LUCK 
 
 they have given him three-quarters of a column all 
 to himself." 
 
 The Rector, who had long since acquired the 
 experience which every married man ends by ac- 
 quiring, sat down and folded his hands patiently, 
 while his wife, after adjusting her spectacles, pro- 
 ceeded to quote the following appreciative para- 
 graph — 
 
 " ' The religious and charitable world may be said 
 to have sustained a severe loss by the death of Mr. 
 Trevor, J. P. and D.L., who passed away yesterday 
 at his residence, Broxham Hall, Norfolk, in a green 
 old age. Although the deceased gentleman took no 
 active part in politics after the passing of the Reform 
 Act of 1868, and resigned his seat in Parliament 
 immediately upon the enactment of a measure to 
 which he was strongly opposed, his name and his 
 person have not ceased throughout the last quarter 
 of a century to be familiar to his fellow-countrymen. 
 Whether the frequent prosecutions with which his 
 memory will be identified were or were not ill- 
 advised, whether his outspoken hatred of Ritualism 
 and his dread of the foothold obtained in England 
 during his lifetime by the Church of Rome were 
 exaggerated or not, are questions which are scarcely
 
 THE RECTOR OF HARBURY VALE 7 
 
 likely to be answered in the sense that he would 
 have wished by a generation which has grown tolerant, 
 if not indifferent, as to such matters ; but it will be 
 conceded alike by friend and foe that Samuel Trevor 
 was a man of the strictest integrity and the most 
 blameless personal life. Born as long ago as 1807, 
 and educated in the tenets of the Evangelical school, 
 to which his father, a well-known politician of the 
 day, belonged, Samuel Trevor imbibed, while still a 
 young man, principles from which he never swerved 
 until the last day of his life.' 
 
 "Then," said Mrs. Dimsdale, looking up over her 
 spectacles, "there is a great deal about Wilberforce 
 and Buxton and Clapham, and all that sort of thing. 
 Also about his prosecutions of the Ritualists and the 
 money that he spent upon them, and so forth. You 
 can read it to yourself afterwards, if you like." 
 
 " I don't think I particularly care to read it," 
 answered the Rector of Harbury Vale, who was a 
 moderate High Churchman. 
 
 " No ; I dare say not. Well, here is the finish of 
 it. ' But when all is said and done, the claims which 
 the late Mr. Trevor possessed upon public esteem 
 and veneration are beyond dispute. Vehement and 
 occasionally bitter as a controversialist he may have
 
 A VICTIM OF GOOD LUCK 
 
 been ; his methods of testifying to the sincerity of 
 his rehgious convictions may not always have 
 commended themselves to modern approval ; but 
 his boundless generosity, his unfailing care for the 
 sick and needy and the admirable uses to which he 
 devoted a large fortune, of which more than half is 
 said to have been expended by him upon good 
 works, will, it is to be hoped, be remembered long 
 after the somewhat vexatious proceedings which he 
 deemed it his duty, of recent years, to institute 
 against offending clergymen have been forgotten 
 and forgiven.' Dear me, what a prodigious sen- 
 tence ! I only saw him once. He struck me as 
 being a particularly disagreeable old man." 
 
 " H'm ! He struck a good many other people in 
 the same light, my dear," observed the Rector, 
 stroking his beard meditatively. " I wonder whether 
 he has done anything for Veronica." 
 
 " Why, of course he has !" returned Mrs. Dims- 
 dale, with a touch of impatience. "That's just it; 
 that's why I say that his death is an interesting 
 event. He promised to provide for her, you know." 
 
 " I think not, Elizabeth ; I certainly did not under- 
 stand that there had been any definite promise. 
 Some years ago, when Mrs. Mansfield endeavoured
 
 THE RECTOR OF HARBURY VALE 
 
 unsuccessfully to arrange a meeting between him 
 and his niece, he did, I believe, say that her name 
 would probably be found in his will ; but that was 
 all. And very little, I should think, can be expected 
 from such a rancorous old— ahem I — from so obstin- 
 ately prejudiced a person as he was." 
 
 " Ah ! you are such a pessimist, John ! I don't 
 mean about Mr. Trevor's character, because I quite 
 agree with you that he was an unnatural old horror, 
 but about Veronica's prospects. After all, she is 
 his sister's only child." 
 
 " As he refused to hold any communication with 
 his sister after her marriage, and as he could never 
 be persuaded to see her only child, that seems 
 rather a poor foundation to build Spanish castles 
 upon," remarked the Rector dryly. " May I ask, 
 Elizabeth, whether you expect to hear that he has 
 constituted Veronica his sole heiress?" 
 
 '* No, John, I do not ; but I expect to hear that 
 he has left her something like ;£'io,ooo — I don't 
 mind telling you that." 
 
 " I trust you will not be foolish enough to tell 
 the girl anything so absurd. You will only lay up 
 an utterly unnecessary disappointment for her if 
 you do."
 
 lo A VICTIM OF GOOD LUCK 
 
 " I doubt whether any disappointment of that 
 kind would affect her ; Veronica cares so Httle about 
 money, poor dear ! But I am convinced that she 
 will inherit a handsome sum ; and so would you be, 
 John, if you were not determined to see everything 
 en noir this morning." 
 
 ** If I saw the world through rose-coloured glasses 
 just at present I should possess your highly enviable 
 temperament, my dear, and Heaven has not so far 
 favoured me. It is all very fine to be cheerful and 
 sanguine, but one must have some sort of reasonable 
 ground for feeling so, or at least so it appears to 
 me. I know I ought to send poor Lizzie a trifle, 
 and Martha writes to say that they have decided to 
 put down the pony-cart, though how they are to 
 manage without a conveyance of some kind in that 
 lonely parish I'm sure I don't know. And here is 
 Joe upon one's hands, and likely to remain upon 
 one's hands indefinitely." 
 
 *' Don't trouble about Joe," said Mrs. Dimsdale 
 placidly. " With his talents he is certain to make 
 his way in the world sooner or later, and I don't 
 know that his having failed for the army is such a 
 great misfortune, after all. A military career has 
 so very few prizes to offer."
 
 THE RECTOR OF HARBURY VALE ii 
 
 " And, such as they are, it would have been very 
 
 strange if he had secured one of them. There I 
 
 am quite with you, EHzabeth. However great 
 
 « 
 Joe's talents may be, they have never yet enabled 
 
 him to carry off a prize of any description — not 
 
 even a good-conduct prize." 
 
 " Well, John," returned Mrs. Dimsdale, bristling 
 up, as she always did when any of her offspring 
 were attacked, " I really don't think that you have 
 had any cause to complain of Joe's conduct, at all 
 events. And you yourself have always admitted 
 that he has twice as much intelligence as the 
 generality of boys and young men." 
 
 " Oh, he has intelligence, he has plenty of intelli- 
 gence — coupled with eccentricity. Whether that 
 combination is likely to be of any practical service 
 to him is another question. For nothing can be 
 more certain than that he will have to earn his 
 daily bread somehow or other. I am not Mr. 
 Trevor, remember ; I am neither as rich nor as 
 robust as he was ; and when I die there will be 
 little enough left for those whom I am bound to 
 provide for to live upon." 
 
 " It will all come right, John," Mrs. Dimsdale 
 declared soothingly ; " and even if it were all going to
 
 12 A VICTIM OF GOOD LUCK 
 
 come wrong, suffering in anticipation would not mend 
 matters. The truth is that you want a tonic." 
 
 " No, no !" returned the Rector hastily — for he 
 had had ample experience of his wife's doses, and 
 he knew what the effects of them generally were — 
 '' I assure you I don't want that, my dear. What I 
 really do want is to be permitted to get on with 
 my sermon, for which you have already furnished 
 me with some valuable hints. One should strive to 
 cultivate your habitual frame of mind ; one should 
 never suffer in anticipation. I am convinced of it, 
 and I will tell the people so." 
 
 Mrs. Dimsdale rose slowly, picked up her news- 
 paper and moved towards the door. " I only wish 
 you would practise what you preach !" she re- 
 marked. " Then you wouldn't give yourself a head- 
 ache by struggling with ideas which would come 
 quite naturally to you if you waited for them until 
 you were in the pulpit. I must try to find Veronica 
 now and tell her the news." 
 
 The Rector, who had drawn his chair up to the 
 writing-table once more, looked over his shoulder 
 to say, " For goodness' sake, don't go and tell her 
 that she has come into a fortune!" 
 
 " Of course I shall do nothing of the kind,"
 
 THE RECTOR OF HARBURY VALE 13 
 
 answered Mrs. Dimsdale ; " what do you take me 
 for ? But it stands to reason that she must be 
 informed of her uncle's death, and that she must 
 order mourning." 
 
 *' If her uncle has left her money enough to pay 
 for a black gown, she may consider herself lucky," 
 murmured the despondent Rector when he was left 
 alone. 
 
 But the prospect was not really so unsatisfactory 
 as that ; nor in his heart did he believe that it was. 
 Something would doubtless prove to have been 
 done for Veronica, whose claims had been virtually 
 acknowledged by the late Mr. Trevor, although they 
 had never been urged either by her or by those who 
 from her earliest childhood had given her a home. 
 
 It was now a matter of iive-and-twenty years 
 since the younger brother of the Rector of Harbury 
 Vale had insisted upon marrying Miss Trevor, not- 
 withstanding his lack of means, while ^^liss Trevor 
 had insisted on marrying him, despite the opposi- 
 tion of her nearest relatives. There had been no 
 particular harm in Cecil Dimsdale, nor any parti- 
 cular good. A dreamy, inefficient, amiable member 
 of the community, he might have dawdled through 
 life creditably enough for all practical purposes, had 
 
 \
 
 14 A VICTIM OF GOOD LUCK 
 
 he possessed money enough to dawdle upon, and 
 it was not at all improbable that he — or rather his 
 wife — would have been provided with the requisite 
 money if he had not, shortly after his marriage, 
 taken it into his foolish head to do an utterly un- 
 pardonable thing. This was not the frittering away 
 of a part of Mrs. Cecil's small fortune in absurd 
 speculations (although the fact that he had done 
 so was subsequently remembered against him), but 
 his abrupt and wholly unexpected secession to the 
 Romish communion. He might, like Moses, have 
 broken all the Ten Commandments at a blow with 
 more hope of ever being forgiven by his stern 
 brother-in-law. His wife, who shared his change 
 of faith, and possibly caused it, was well aware of 
 that ; so it must be assumed that her convictions 
 were strong. Be that as it may, she got nothing 
 more from the incensed Samuel, save a solemn and 
 elaborate written anathema, nor did the extreme 
 poverty to which she and her husband were soon 
 reduced avail to soften the heart of that outraged 
 Protestant. What would have become of the luck- 
 less pair if they had not gone out in a sailing-boat 
 one day and been capsized and happily drowned, 
 it is impossible to say. Mr. Trevor professed to see
 
 THE RECTOR OF HARBURY VALE 15 
 
 the finger of Providence in the fate which overtook 
 them ; possibly he was not mistaken. Their child, 
 a mere infant at the time, was taken charge of by 
 the good people at Harbury Vale and brought up 
 by them as a member of the Church of England ; 
 but, notwithstanding this latter circumstance, Mr. 
 Trevor had always declined to see the girl or 
 recognise her in any way. She was the child of 
 wicked parents, he was wont to say, and those who 
 had chosen to take the responsibility of receiving 
 her into their family circle must accept the conse- 
 quences of so rash an act. For the rest, she had 
 a little money, inherited from her mother — about 
 ;f 200 a year, it turned out eventually to be — so that 
 the Reverend John and his excellent wife did not 
 consider themselves entitled to any thanks for feed- 
 ing, clothing and educating her. Now that she was 
 of age, she paid for her food and dressed herself 
 out of the proceeds of her own small fortune. In 
 one sense also she had educated herself; for 
 Veronica Dimsdale was a young woman of marked 
 individuality, who formed her opinions and regu- 
 lated her course of study at first hand — or thought 
 that she did so. It was, at all events, neither from 
 Uncle John nor from Aunt Elizabeth that she had
 
 i6 A VICTIM OF good'* LUCK 
 
 derived some of the views that she held, and the 
 former was not free from occasional misgivings on 
 her score. The Reverend John did not think it at 
 all desirable that women should know too much, 
 and there were sundry authors whose works he 
 would fain have forbidden his niece to read ; but she 
 had quietly argued the point with him, and, as he had 
 not had the best of the argument, he had yielded 
 with a sigh. His own blameless Lizzie and Martha 
 and Deborah had always submitted cheerfully to 
 the existence of an " Index Expurgatorius " ; but 
 then they were far more docile, and far less eager 
 for information, than Veronica. That may have 
 been one reason why he could not help finding 
 Veronica's society more stimulating than theirs.
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 VERONICA. 
 
 The Harbury Vale Rectory is a low, straggling 
 building, of which the white walls are almost con- 
 cealed by wistaria, clematis, banksia roses, jasmine 
 and other climbing plants. It stands among green 
 pasture-lands ; facing it, and at an almost imper- 
 ceptibly lower level, flows the broad river, while 
 woods of beech, oak and elm rise gently behind it ; 
 so that it is a charmingly pretty place in summer, 
 a frequently flooded place in autumn and winter 
 and an undeniably damp place all the year round. 
 However, it enjoys the advantage of a gravel soil, 
 which may account for the fact that Mr. and Mrs. 
 Dimsdale had successfully reared four children, as 
 well as a niece, during their residence at Harbury 
 Vale, and that their doctor's bill at the end of each 
 year never exceeded a modest total. 
 
 VOL. I. 2
 
 i8 A VICTIM OF GOOD LUCK 
 
 Of these four children the two eldest had fulfilled 
 their manifest destiny by espousing curates. Deborah 
 — poor, plain-featured Deborah, for whom no mate 
 had as yet been found — still remained beneath the 
 paternal roof; while Joe, the youngest of the flock, 
 was also for the present at home, and was a walking 
 testimony to the salubrity of his birthplace. Tall, 
 broad-shouldered and well put together, Joe Dims- 
 dale left nothing to be desired in the matter of 
 physique : it was a pity (or, at all events, his mother 
 thought so) that his red hair, his freckled cheeks 
 and irregular features rendered it impossible for 
 anybody to call him good-looking. But Joe himself, 
 who had not yet begun to shave, and who, con- 
 sequently, seldom examined his countenance in the 
 glass, was very well satisfied with the body in which 
 it had pleased Providence to locate a spirit capable 
 of huge enjoyment. So long as there were hounds 
 to be followed on foot (for the Rectory stables 
 contained but one horse, and to ask that animal to 
 jump over the most insignificant fence would have 
 been much the same thing as asking him to win the 
 Grand National) ; so long as there were rabbits to 
 be potted and even an occasional partridge to be 
 laid low ; so long as Father Thames continued to
 
 VERONICA 19 
 
 afford facilities for sculling, canoeing and swimming, 
 the world, in Joe Dimsdale's opinion, was satisfactory 
 enough. Even when there was nothing else to do, 
 there were pretty generally rats to be killed ; and on 
 this March morning Joe, assisted by the man-of-all- 
 work and by his broken-haired fox-terrier, Nipper, 
 was engaged in killing rats, which is a far pleasanter 
 occupation than composing sermons. 
 
 It was in the stable-yard that this necessary pro- 
 cess of exterminating vermin was being carried out 
 upon the most approved principles. Joe, with the 
 eager Nipper secured tightly between his legs, was 
 awaiting the moment for each squeaking rat to be 
 released, in turn, by the man-of-all-work from its 
 wire cage. The dog w^as doing his work admirably, 
 the bodies of the quickly slain lay piled up in the 
 background, and it really seemed a sad pity when 
 only one more victim remained for execution. 
 
 " We've come to the last of them, Veronica," said 
 the young fellow regretfully, glancing up at the tall, 
 dark-haired girl who had been a silent spectator of 
 this scientific butchery. '' He's a fine big chap 
 though to finish with. Isn't he making a row about 
 it, too!" 
 
 Veronica did not reply ; but just at the critical
 
 20 A VICTIM OF GOOD LUCK 
 
 instant, when the rat was set free, she suddenly 
 opened her sunshade, which she had been swinging 
 on one finger, in the dog's face. Away went the 
 rat ; away, after a second of natural bewilderment, 
 went Nipper in pursuit ; and then there was a brief 
 scene of excitement, terminating — as in that en- 
 closed space it was pretty certain to terminate — in 
 a brilliant victory for the attacking forces. 
 
 " Now, what in the world made you do that, 
 Veronica ?" asked Joe, in accents which expressed 
 amused curiosity rather than displeasure. 
 
 " Impulse, I suppose," answered the girl. " It 
 wasn't much use, was it ?" 
 
 " No, but it might have been ; and if it had 
 you would have grieved me and made Nipper feel 
 ashamed of himself and let a pestilent animal loose 
 upon society. You should think of these things 
 before you act, Veronica ; you are far too ready to 
 yield to your impulses." 
 
 The girl laughed a little. She was evidently upon 
 terms of mutual comprehension with her companion, 
 and saw that he was only trying to be funny because 
 he was afraid of having distressed her. '' Come 
 down to the river," she said abruptly; *' there are 
 no rats there."
 
 VERONICA 21 
 
 " Oh ! aren't there, though !" Joe returned. 
 
 " Well, I don't so much mind in the case of 
 water-rats ; they have at least a chance for their 
 lives. But the whole thing — everything that goes 
 by the name of sport — is brutal and horrible." 
 
 It was impossible for Joe Dimsdale to let such 
 a sweeping assertion as that pass unchallenged. 
 Sincere as his affection and admiration for his 
 cousin were, he felt bound to explain that sport is 
 ennobling, not degrading, and he argued the point 
 w^ith her while they strolled across the grass towards 
 that fence on the bank of the river where they had 
 held many previous colloquies of a more or less 
 desultory character. Veronica and Joe had always 
 been friends, although they differed in temperament 
 almost as much as they did in appearance. Veronica 
 was one of those somewhat rare human beings who, 
 without actual beauty of form or feature, have a 
 personal attractiveness which defies analysis. It 
 may have been her voice, which was low-pitched 
 and had odd breaks in it ; it may have been the 
 clear pallor of her complexion or the natural grace 
 of her movements that distinguished her from the 
 common herd and caused most members of the 
 opposite sex to pay her a homage that she did not
 
 22 A VICTIM OF GOOD LUCK 
 
 covet ; but nobody had ever had the hardihood to 
 call her beautiful, much less pretty. She had gray 
 eyes, which grew light or dark in obedience to the 
 stirring of her emotions ; she had long, dark eye- 
 lashes, and, colourless though her face was, she 
 conveyed the impression of being in perfect health. 
 When you had said that you had said all that could 
 be said for her in a ph3^sical sense ; for her mouth 
 was too large, her nose was of no particular shape, 
 and the outline of her person was rather angular. 
 Her conversation, to be sure, was interesting, because 
 she was in the habit of saying what she thought, 
 and her thoughts were usually original. She read a 
 great deal; she was considered clever; Mr. Most3^n, 
 the great poet, critic and philosopher, had not hesi- 
 tated to predict that she had a literary future before 
 her. 
 
 The same eminent authority had not felt able to 
 use equally hopeful language with respect to Joe, 
 whose future for the moment had become an un- 
 known quantity, owing to his repeated failures to 
 pass the requisite examinations for admission into 
 the Army. Yet Joe, too, was clever in some ways, 
 being singularly observant and often shrewd in his 
 judgments of men and things. " But what," his
 
 VERONICA 
 
 23 
 
 father would pertinently ask, " is the use of qualities 
 which cannot be turned to any practical account ? 
 What is the use of knowing the note of every bird 
 that flies and being acquainted with the whereabouts 
 of every fox's earth within twenty miles and being 
 able to prattle off the pedigree of any hound in 
 England at a moment's notice ? To have acquired 
 such information implies great diligence and a care- 
 fully cultivated memory ; yet when you lay an ex- 
 amination-paper before the fellow and put a simple 
 question to him about a subject which he has been 
 studying for months, he'll declare that he has for- 
 gotten all about it." 
 
 It was natural enough that Mr. Dimsdale should 
 think his son very unsatisfactory, and scarcely sur- 
 prising that the neighbourhood at large should find 
 itself in sympathetic agreement with Mr. Dimsdale ; 
 but Veronica was always ready to take up the 
 cudgels on Joe's behalf There was scarcely a 
 subject upon which these two thought alike ; the 
 one was prone to be poetical and visionary, the 
 other, despite his inability to adapt himself to the 
 conditions of his lot, was eminently practical ; they 
 had not the same friends, nor did they follow the 
 same pursuits. Nevertheless, they understood one
 
 24 A VICTIM OF GOOD LUCK 
 
 another, and they were under the not altogether 
 erroneous impression that nobody else understood 
 either of them. Thus, although they were constantly 
 disputing, they never quarrelled ; and the discussion 
 upon which they were now engaged was conducted 
 in an entirely amicable spirit. 
 
 " That is all very well, Joseph," remarked Veronica, 
 resting her elbows upon the railing and swinging 
 her sunshade to and fro above the turbid v/ater, 
 '' but you will never persuade me that killing is not 
 cruel. You would think it atrociously cruel if a 
 race of creatures much bigger and better armed 
 than yourself were to amuse themselves by hunting 
 you to death." 
 
 " Never said it wasn't cruel, my dear," returned 
 Joe, who had seated himself sideways upon the 
 fence and had lighted a short black pipe; " I only 
 said it was necessary. Do you suppose sheep and 
 oxen like being slaughtered for your dinner ?" 
 
 " Well, you know, I did try being a vegetarian for 
 several months, and I only gave it up because Uncle 
 John's arguments about manure seemed to be un- * 
 answerable. I grant you that the whole scheme of 
 Nature is cruel and that we are bound to prey upon 
 one another ; but there is all the difference in the
 
 VERONICA 25 
 
 world between slaying to support life and slaying 
 for the mere pleasure of shedding blood." 
 
 "Veronica," said Joe, removing his pipe from his 
 lips and pointing it at her didactically, '' I will tell 
 you something which, being a woman, you can't 
 know. Man is by nature a bloodthirsty animal, and 
 unless you provide him with some legitimate outlet 
 for his instincts, the odds are that he will play Old 
 Harry with himself and everybody else. Of course, 
 when I say man, I mean men, not abnormal beings, 
 like your friend Mr. Mostyn and a few others, who 
 can get along quite comfortably upon tea and toast 
 and talk " 
 
 " Mr. Mostyn is one of the greatest men of this 
 century," interjected Veronica calmly. 
 
 " Very well ; he is all that, if you like, and perhaps 
 it isn't his fault that he was born a muff. But you'll 
 allow that he is abnormal. Goodness only knows 
 what sort of a ruffian the ordinary, everyday English- 
 man, such as your humble servant, would develop 
 into if he were forbidden to kill birds and beasts and 
 fishes in a skilful and sportsmanlike style." 
 
 *' I can't quite see how you reconcile those senti- 
 ments with your love of animals," Veronica re- 
 marked.
 
 26 A VICTIM OF GOOD LUCK 
 
 " I don't," answered Joe with a grin ; " I leave 
 them to reconcile themselves as best they can, like 
 predestination and free-will and a heap of other 
 contraries which manage to run in double harness 
 somehow or other. All that I can tell you is that I 
 do love animals and I do like shooting and fishing, 
 when I can get the chance. I ain't a murderer, but 
 if only I could have passed those blessed exams., I 
 expect I should have liked fighting too." 
 
 Veronica made no immediate rejoinder, but con- 
 tinued to gaze down reflectively at the river. Her 
 cousin's last words had given another turn to her 
 thoughts, and she did not deem it necessary to 
 explain to what she was alluding when, after a time, 
 she remarked, " It's a dreadful pity !" 
 
 " Yes, it's a pity," the young fellow agreed, *'but 
 there's no good in crying about it. I did my best — 
 though nobody but you will ever believe I did — and 
 I was beaten. It wouldn't make other people happier 
 to be told how disappointed I am. In fact, I suspect 
 I should deprive them of their only solace if I forced 
 them to sympathise with me instead of groaning 
 over me." 
 
 Veronica laughed. She had a loud, abrupt, but 
 not unmelodious laugh, which she never attempted
 
 VERONICA 27 
 
 to repress, and which sometimes escaped her at 
 inappropriate moments. " Perhaps you would," she 
 said. " And what will you do now ?" 
 
 " Well, I was thinking of a land agency. I believe 
 it's what I'm best fitted for. Either that or emigra- 
 tion." 
 
 " Oh, I can't let you emigrate !" Veronica hastily 
 exclaimed. " What should I do without you ?" 
 
 " The great and good Mostyn would remain in 
 England for your comfort and consolation." 
 
 " Joseph, there are times when you disgust me ! 
 Oh, dear ! I wish Uncle Trevor would die and 
 leave me all his estates. Then I would make you 
 my agent at once." 
 
 It was at this dramaticall}' opportune juncture 
 that Mrs. Dimsdale, with a knitted shawl flung over 
 her shoulders, the Times in her hand and a voice 
 attuned to the melancholy circumstances, stepped 
 out from the adjacent shrubbery to say : " Veronica 
 dear, I have been looking for you everywhere. I 
 am sorry to tell you that your poor uncle is gone. 
 Here is the announcement of his death. I dare say 
 you would like to see what they say about him." 
 
 Joe produced a very large silk pocket-handker- 
 chief and held it before his eyes, sobbing aloud.
 
 28 A VICTIM OF GOOD LUCK 
 
 *'0h!" he moaned; "this is hard to bear! So 
 righteous, so benevolent, so fondly affectionate to 
 his nearest relatives ! And then to be cut off, with- 
 out the least warning, at the comparatively early 
 age of eighty-something ! I do think, mother^ that 
 you might have broken the sad intelligence more 
 gently. And please, m'm, does the paper say any- 
 
 thing: about deceased's will ?" 
 
 " Don't be indecent, Joe," remonstrated Mrs. 
 Dimsdale, smothering a laugh. " He really was a 
 good man, according to his lights — at any rate, 
 many people thought so — and he was a connection 
 of ours by marriage, you know. No ; of course 
 there is nothing about the will yet." 
 
 Veronica, who had been glancing at the obituary 
 panegyric of which a portion has already been 
 quoted, handed the newspaper back to her aunt and 
 remarked : '' I can tell you how he has disposed of 
 his property; Mr. Horace Trevor inherits every- 
 
 thing." 
 
 " Not quite everything, dear," corrected Mrs. Dims- 
 dale. " There are sure to be charitable bequests ; 
 and your aunt Julia, I believe, obtained a promise 
 from her brother that you should receive a sub- 
 stantial legacy."
 
 VERONICA 29 
 
 *' Did she ?" asked Veronica indifferently. " I 
 don't think I want it. I have quite as much money 
 as I need." 
 
 " In that case, my dear," observed Joe, " you 
 probably stand alone amidst the greedy inhabitants 
 of an over-populated world. But I have always 
 maintained that you are unique. As for me, who 
 am no better than I should be, I trust you will 
 excuse my reminding you of what you were saying 
 just now, and if you should find that you have come 
 in for a trifle of twenty or thirt}^ thousand pounds 
 which you don't need, nothing will give me greater 
 satisfaction than to relieve you of the burden." 
 
 But even Mrs. Dimsdale's sanguine anticipations 
 did not rise above the half, or more probably the 
 quarter of such a sum, and in truth there was little 
 reason to expect that Mr. Trevor, the most obstinate 
 and unforgiving of men, would prove to have recog- 
 nised posthumous obligations towards one with 
 whom, during his lifetime, he had steadily refused 
 to have anything to do. Mrs. Dimsdale wrote a 
 letter of quasi-condolence to Mrs. Mansfield, the 
 only surviving sister of the deceased philanthropist, 
 but received no reply, and after a few days hope 
 died away within her breast. It was disappointing,
 
 30 A VICTIM OF GOOD LUCK 
 
 but it was of a piece with that horrid old man's 
 conduct (he was a horrid old man again now) from 
 first to last. " And, after all," concluded Mrs. 
 Dimsdale, in her optimistic way, " Veronica is 
 certain to marry well, which will answer all the 
 purpose. Perhaps, if she had come into a little 
 fortune all to herself now, she would only have done 
 something dreadfully foolish with it before she could 
 have been stopped." 
 
 Then, one morning, a letter, addressed in a clerkly 
 hand, was delivered to Veronica, which she opened 
 and perused with feelings of stupefaction rather 
 than of exultation — 
 
 " Lincohis I tin Fields^ IV. C, March i8, 189 — . 
 ^^ Madam, — We are instructed hy the executors of the 
 late Mr. Samuel Trevor to inform you that, under his 
 will, you succeed to his estate of Broxham Hall, in the 
 county of Norfolk, together with personalty, of which the 
 exact amount cannot at present be ascertained, but which, 
 we may say, will probably exceed one hundred thousand 
 pounds (£100,000). As you will, no doubt, wish to be 
 placed in possession of further particulars, and as it is 
 desirable that we should have a personal interview with 
 you, may we beg that you will favour us with a call at
 
 VERONICA 
 
 an early date ? Or, should you prefer it, our Mr. Walton 
 will wait upon you at your present residence. — We are, 
 Madam, your obedient servants, 
 
 " Walton, Johnson, Hopkins and Co., 
 
 " Solicitors.^' 
 
 Veronica read the above letter through several 
 times, with increasing bewilderment. Then she 
 handed it over to the Rector, \vho had noticed 
 the superscription and had been surveying her in- 
 quiringly over his spectacles. 
 
 " Uncle John," she said, *' will you look at this, 
 please, and tell me whether it is genuine or not ? 
 I hope it is only a stupid practical joke." 
 
 Mr. Dimsdale w^as a good deal amused at the 
 time by what struck him as being the oddest com- 
 ment he had ever heard in his life upon a piece of 
 extraordinary good luck ; yet subsequent events led 
 him more than once to doubt whether the late Mr. 
 Trevor had not in truth meant to perpetrate a grim 
 jest at the expense of sundry survivors by bequeathing 
 money and lands to an utterly inexperienced girl.
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 THE PREACHER AND THE POET. 
 
 The following day was a Sunday, and letters are 
 not delivered on Sundays at Harbury Vale ; still, 
 those who are in a hurry for their correspondence 
 may obtain it by applying at the village post-office, 
 so that the Rectory folks usually halted there on 
 their way to church. This practice, as a rule, 
 possessed little interest for Veronica, who seldom 
 received a letter on any day of the week ; but now 
 she was, for once, rather anxious to hear whether 
 there was anything for her, because she thought it 
 not improbable that her aunt, Mrs. Mansfield, might 
 have written. And her anticipations were verified. 
 A thick, black-edged envelope was handed to her, a 
 similar one was awarded to Mrs. Dimsdale, and as 
 the party resumed its march, to the accompaniment 
 of a noisy peal of bells, each lady perused her mis-
 
 THE PREACHER AND THE POET 33 
 
 sive, \'eronica silently, ^Irs. Dimsdale with interjec- 
 tional grunts and subdued expressions of approval. 
 
 Mrs. Mansfield's letter to her niece was, as the 
 latter had expected it to be, an invitation. " Mr. 
 Walton tells me that he must see you," this good- 
 natured lady, who had never shared her late brother's 
 peculiar prejudices, wrote, *' and of course I shall be 
 only too glad to give you house-room and to do 
 anything that I can for you. Your position alto- 
 gether is so extraordinary and so unforeseen that 
 one hardly realises it yet or sees what steps you 
 ought to take ; but I should think your best plan 
 will be to stay with me until things have unravelled 
 themselves a little and some sort of scheme can 
 be formed for your future life. I ought to have 
 answered Mrs. Dimsdale's letter before this : my 
 only excuse is that I have been literally stunned and 
 unable to write to anybody. As I think I told you, 
 it was quite an understood thing that poor Horace 
 was to succeed to the property, and although there 
 had been a coolness of late between him and your 
 uncle, I never for one moment imagined that Samuel 
 would go to the extreme length of altering his will ! 
 I cannot help thinking that he must have done it in 
 a moment of mental aberration, and that he would 
 
 VOL. I. 3
 
 34 A VICTIM OF GOOD LUCK 
 
 have repaired such an act of injustice if he had Hved 
 a httle longer. Not that there is the sHghtest inten- 
 tion of disputing the will or that I at all grudge you 
 your wonderful good luck — pray don't suppose that, 
 my dear ! Still, it is hard upon Horace, who, if he 
 isn't exactly a saint or a Methodist minister, has 
 always been quite as well-behaved as other young 
 men. However, I will tell you all about it when 
 you come. Meanwhile, I am always your affectionate 
 aunt, Julia Mansfield." 
 
 " Well, that disposes of one difficulty," Mrs. 
 Dimsdale remarked, in a tone of satisfaction, as she 
 stuffed her letter into her pocket and passed her 
 arm through her niece's. " Very kind and thoughtful 
 of your Aunt Julia, I'm sure, and she writes in the 
 nicest possible way about you. What a mercy it is 
 that you have an Aunt Julia to go to !" 
 
 - " I have an Aunt Elizabeth who has satisfied my 
 modest requirements pretty well so far," remarked 
 Veronica, smiling. 
 
 " Ah, so far ! but everything is changed now. I 
 am only a poor old country mouse, and I shouldn't 
 have known in the least how to be of service to you 
 tinder these altered circumstances ; whereas Mrs. 
 Mansfield is a woman of the world, who will be able
 
 THE PREACHER AND THE POET 35 
 
 to tell you exactly what you ought to do. Who is 
 this young Horace, who seems to have been dis- 
 inherited in your favour ? Not a nephew of old 
 Mr. Trevor's, surely ? I never heard of his having 
 had a brother." 
 
 ** Only a distant kinsman whom he adopted, I 
 believe," answered Veronica, " but I really never 
 thought of asking any questions upon the subject.'* 
 She walked on for some yards, paying no heed to 
 Mrs. Dimsdale's continuous prattle. Then she ex- 
 claimed suddenly : " How odd you are, Aunt 
 Elizabeth ! Why should you be so delighted at 
 my having come into all this money ? You do not 
 profit by it — not necessarily, at least." 
 
 " That remains to be seen," struck in Deborah 
 before her mother could reply. " From what I 
 know of you, Veronica, I should say that the very 
 first use to which you would put your money would 
 be to give some of it away to your friends." 
 
 Deborah was a thick-set, red-haired little person, 
 much given to good works, greatly beloved by the 
 poor of the parish and notorious in her family for 
 the innocent indiscretion of her utterances. She 
 was upon the point of adding something about its 
 being more blessed to give than to receive when she
 
 36 A VICTIM OF GOOD LUCK 
 
 herself received a doubtful blessing in the shape of a 
 pinch in the fleshy part of the arm from her brother, 
 which caused her to break into a short, sharp 
 squeal. 
 
 "Shut up. Deb!" growled Joe under his breath; 
 and Deborah shut up with her accustomed docility, 
 though she was unable to see what she had done to 
 earn this discourteous command. 
 
 Mrs. Dimsdale, who was in truth a most unselfish 
 woman, was answering that she rejoiced in her 
 niece's good fortune just as she would have rejoiced 
 in the good fortune of one of her daughters. " And 
 besides," she added cheerfully, " we shall all come 
 and stay with you at Broxham sometimes, if you 
 will have us ; and there will be the shooting for Joe, 
 you know, and " 
 
 *' Oh, that T' interrupted Veronica, with a quick 
 wave of her hand. " But, Aunt Elizabeth, aren't 
 you at all sorry ? — not the least little bit ?" 
 
 "Sorry, my dear!" ejaculated the good lady; 
 " what do 3^ou mean ? Now don't, please don't, say 
 that you are ! That would be too perverse of you, 
 and it would worry me all through the service, so 
 that I shouldn't be able to fix my mind upon my 
 prayers."
 
 THE PREACHER AND THE POET 37 
 
 Veronica, therefore, held her peace, and they all 
 went into church. 
 
 The Rector preached a very fine sermon that 
 morning. It was not the one to which allusion has 
 already been made, and which had been delivered 
 on the previous Sunday ; but it dealt with a kindred 
 subject, and he had chosen for his text " How hardly 
 shall they that have riches enter into the kingdom 
 of Heaven.*' Veronica, as she always did, listened 
 attentively to her uncle's discourse, every word of 
 which seemed to apply so exactly to her own case 
 that she was inclined every now and then to think 
 he might have dealt a little more mercifully with 
 her. He began by confessing frankly, on behalf of 
 himself and humanity at large, that riches are what 
 we all desire. As a matter of theory, we may be 
 willing to admit that there are other good things — 
 health, for example — which rank infinitely higher ; 
 but as a matter of practice, at least nine-tenths of 
 us devote our brains, our energies and the best part 
 of our lives to the acquisition of wealth. When we 
 acquire it, if we ever do acquire it, we probably find 
 that it has not been worth all that trouble. But the 
 Rector said that he did not, for the moment, wish 
 to dwell upon that aspect of the question ; what he
 
 o 
 
 8 A VICTIM OF GOOD LUCK 
 
 wished to emphasise was the enormous power of 
 money and the consequent responsibility attaching 
 to those who possessed it. To say that wealth rules 
 the world was, he declared, a mere truism, and he 
 proceeded to show how the peace of Europe was 
 now in the keeping, not of Emperors, Kings, Chan- 
 cellors of Parliaments, but of certain eminent 
 financiers whom he did not name and of whom 
 the majority of his hearers had most likely never 
 heard. And what was true of the world was true, 
 he urged, of all communities, large and small. 
 Whether we liked to acknowledge it or not, the fact 
 remained that we all respected a rich man — respected 
 him not for any talent or perseverance that he might 
 have displayed in enriching himself, but simply and 
 solely because he was rich, because he had houses, 
 lands, horses, flowers and other luxuries which be- 
 long only to the few. We allowed him to dictate to 
 us upon social matters ; we were gratified when he 
 condescended to seek our friendship ; we recognised 
 him, in short, as our superior. '' And so, in actual 
 truth, he is," added the preacher. " He can ac- 
 complish what it would be vain for us even to 
 attempt ; his power, for good or evil, is as much 
 greater and wider than ours as the power of his
 
 THE PREACHER AND THE POET 39 
 
 Creator is greater and wider than his own ; isolated 
 by reason of a power of which it is impossible for 
 him to divest himself, he learns — or fails to learn — 
 the secret of that sadness which has ever been dis- 
 cernible upon the countenances of ' those who bear 
 rule and are obeyed.' " 
 
 Then, of course, it was easy to point out how the 
 rich man, between the horns of a dilemma, was a 
 less enviable being than he might appear at first 
 sight. Either he realised his position, realising at 
 the same time that he must not look for much happi- 
 ness in this world, or he did not realise it — in which 
 case his prospects for the next could hardly be con- 
 templated wdthout a shudder. Mr. Dimsdale had 
 eloquence and a vibrating, sympathetic voice ; he 
 alwa3's conveyed the impression of being very much 
 in earnest ; when he had worked himself up to the 
 requisite pitch of emotion, his subject commonly 
 swept him off his legs, and the ideals he was wont 
 to set up at such times were, perhaps, a shade too 
 lofty for human attainment. At any rate, by the 
 time that he had made an end of explaining what 
 a rich man's duties were, and how exceedingl}^ un- 
 Hkely any rich man was to fulfil them, one at least 
 of his audience was disposed to add a fresh petition
 
 / 
 
 40 A VICTIM OF GOOD LUCK , 
 
 ■ / 
 
 to the Litany — " From battle, murder and sudden , 
 death, and from a sudden accession of fortune, good 
 Lord, dehver us !" 
 
 But the fresh air and the sunshine outside, together 
 with the somewhat irreverent comments of the 
 Rector's only son, were not without a bracing effect 
 upon Veronica's flagging spirits. 
 
 " I regard that sermon as a gross outrage upon 
 good taste," Joe declared. " If he had told you in 
 so many words that it was your bounden duty to 
 restore the chancel and put a new roof on the church, 
 he couldn't have expressed his meaning more plainly. 
 I am quite ashamed of him, and, in the unavoidable 
 absence of the reverend gentleman, I beg to offer 
 you a full apology. Personally, I may say that, 
 while we congratulate you upon having succeeded to 
 a pot of money, and are convinced that you will 
 make a wise use of it, we wish to goodness it hadn't 
 been quite such a large pot. Because, you see, we 
 don't want to lose you." 
 
 " Thank you, Joseph !" exclaimed Veronica grate- 
 fully ; " you always know how to say the right 
 thing." 
 
 *' I can when I like," answered Joe, with quiet 
 complacency.
 
 THE PREACHER AND THE POET 41 
 
 ** And you really will miss me a little ? Aunt 
 Elizabeth doesn't seem to think that my departure 
 will cause any perceptible blank in the household." 
 
 " You know very well that you will be missed," 
 said Joe. " I wouldn't be morbid if I were you. 
 Take example by me. Ain't I bearing up like a 
 man, in spite of everything ? Not that I am going 
 to stay on here without you. No, thanks ! I shall 
 be off to Australia or the Cape or the Western 
 States of America as soon as possible." 
 
 " You forget that you are going to be my land- 
 agent," observed Veronica, smiling. 
 
 " I am not sure that you will want one, my dear ; 
 and if 3'ou did, I should be hardly ready to accept 
 the situation for a year or two. But let's make the 
 best of things. We shall meet again some day, 
 when we are old and uninteresting, and ' when the 
 glow of early thought has declined in feeling^s dull 
 decay.' That isn't the sort of poetry that you 
 admire though — and, by Jove ! here comes the sort 
 of poet whom you do admire. Farewell for the 
 present — I'm off! There isn't room for me and him 
 in one small meadow." 
 
 If Veronica admired the tall, spare, elderly gentle- 
 man who was sauntering towards her along the river
 
 42 A VICTIM OF GOOD LUCK 
 
 bank, and who removed his wideawake hat, disclosing 
 a fine crop of curly grizzled hair, on her approach, 
 she was by no means alone in so doing. Cyril 
 Mostyn's niche in the Temple of Fame had been 
 won many years before by the refined and scholarly 
 verses which he continued to publish at rare in- 
 tervals ; as a critic he was perhaps even better 
 known than as a poet, while his social pre-eminence 
 w^as all the more an established fact because he had 
 never taken the slightest trouble to earn or retain 
 it. At the age of fifty, or thereabouts, he was still a 
 singularly handsome man ; he knew everybody worth 
 knowing, literary, scientific, political and fashionable, 
 and when he occupied his comfortable bachelor 
 quarters in London, he dined out every night of his 
 life. Latterly, however, he had taken to spending a 
 great deal of his time at the rustic cottage on the 
 banks of the Thames which he had purchased chiefly 
 with a view to escaping the importunities of his 
 friends. 
 
 " Have you been to church ?" he inquired, in the 
 low, mellow accents which were counted among his 
 personal attractions. 
 
 Mr. Mostyn himself was parens ciiltor et infreqiiens 
 of established rites, having indeed written som6
 
 THE PREACHER AND THE POET 43 
 
 rather cruel and incisive essays upon the subject of 
 revealed religion ; still, he was to be seen every now 
 and then in places of worship, and he had never 
 publicly abjured Christianity. 
 
 " Yes," answered Veronica, " I have been to 
 church ; but I don't think I feel much the better 
 for it. Uncle John has made me wretched by 
 preaching a perfectly beautiful sermon to prove the 
 impossibility of forcing a camel through the eye of a 
 needle. And the worst of it is that, all of a sudden 
 and through no fault of my own, I have become a 
 camel!" 
 
 '' So I hear," Mr. Mostyn observed, smiling and 
 gazing at her. " I should have congratulated you, 
 only I felt quite sure that you would not want to be 
 congratulated. Poor old Trevor ! . . . and, still 
 more, poor young Trevor ! . . . and, most of all, 
 perhaps, poor you 1" 
 
 " Oh, it is horrid !" exclaimed Veronica disconso- 
 lately. " What could have made him do it !" 
 
 Mr. Mostyn shrugged his shoulders. " Lack of 
 self-control, I suppose," he answered. ''The young 
 man is not a religious young man, and it was dis- 
 covered, I believe, that he had been backing horses. 
 Then there was a scene, and a will was made which
 
 44 A VICTIM OF GOOD LUCK 
 
 would probably have been destroyed if there had 
 been time. Authors are not the only people who 
 sometimes put pen to paper unadvisedly." 
 
 " The more I think of it all," sighed Veronica, 
 " the more plainly I see that a dreadful injustice 
 has been done, of which I have no business to take 
 advantage." 
 
 *' But there is no imaginable way in which you 
 can avoid taking advantage of it." 
 
 Veronica laughed. *' Oh, yes," she returned ; " it 
 is as simple as one of the hard cases in Vanity Fair. 
 ' A, a rustic maiden, inherits a large fortune from an 
 aged relative whom she has never seen, and who 
 has always treated B as his heir. B, a well-con- 
 ducted young man, temporarily estranged from the 
 old gentleman by some trifling difference, would 
 doubtless have been reinstated, had the latter lived 
 a few months longer. A is neither fitted for her 
 new position nor anxious to occupy it. What is A 
 to do ? Answer received, adjudged correct — Marry 
 B.'" 
 
 "Well," said Mr. Mostyn, smiling, ''that would 
 solve a difficulty, no doubt. It only remains to 
 obtain B's assent to the arrangement." 
 
 "And B is an unknown quantity."
 
 THE PREACHER AXD THE POET 45 
 
 " Not to me ; I have met him several times in 
 London. He is a nice-looking, nice-mannered young 
 gentleman of the approved pattern, and would be 
 quite willing to do anything that he was told, I 
 should think, provided that it was not too unpleasant ; 
 
 and it is obviously superfluous to add " Here 
 
 Mr. Mostyn spread out his hands and made a little 
 bow. "At the same time," he resumed, "nothing 
 can be more certain than that, after vou had lived 
 with Mr. Horace Trevor for a few months, you 
 would be arranging the terms of an amicable separa- 
 tion. Your husband, my dear Miss Dimsdale, will 
 have to be a literary man ; that happens, fortunately 
 or unfortunately, to be indispensable, and I should 
 be very much surprised to hear that young Trevor 
 had opened a single book, except a sporting novel or 
 a ' Ruffs Guide,' since he left Oxford." 
 
 *' What is to be done, then ?" asked Veronica. 
 
 She was in the habit of asking Mr. Mostyn what 
 was to be done whenever she stood in need of 
 counsel ; for she had the highest opinion of his 
 wisdom and she had been the recipient of many 
 tokens of his goodwill. The advice that he gave 
 her now, in answer to a more detailed statement of 
 her perplexities than she had as yet vouchsafed to
 
 46 A VICTIM OF GOOD LUCK 
 
 anybody, was certainly sound, so far as it went. 
 He urged her to do nothing in a hurry ; he reminded 
 her that responsibility cannot be thrown off, like an 
 extra blanket, simply because it is more comfortable 
 to get rid of it ; and for immediate and practical 
 questions he referred her to the lawyers. 
 
 " One does not want to be bothered about money," 
 he concluded ; " it is a nuisance to have too little of 
 it and a nuisance to have too much. You must 
 expect to be a good deal bothered for the next few 
 months ; but after that, I hope, you will be able to 
 turn your attention to more important things again. 
 Have 3'ou been stringing any more rhymes together ?" 
 
 " Yes," answered Veronica, laughing and colour- 
 ing slightly ; " but I am not going to show them to 
 you. You only praise my rubbish because you wish 
 to be kind and encouraging." 
 
 " No," Mr. Mostyn assured her gravely, " I don't 
 do that. I never tell polite fibs upon the subject of 
 art, which I take to be the one serious thing in this 
 world of irony and farce and charlatanism. All that 
 I have said to you is that your work shows great 
 promise. Whether the promise will be fulfilled or 
 not depends upon a variety of considerations — your 
 sex and this necessary change in your social sur-
 
 THE PREACHER AND THE POET 47 
 
 roundings being, to my mind, very much against 
 you. However, we shall see. One thing that I 
 may be able to do for you now is to introduce you 
 to men and women whose chief interest in life is 
 literature. Rubbing up against them will do you 
 good, even if you find them rather disappointing 
 from a conversational point of view." 
 
 " Oh, thank you !" exclaimed Veronica gratefully. 
 " I must go now, or I shall be late for dinner. I 
 suppose rich people don't have to dine early on 
 Sundays, do they ? At any rate, I know Aunt Julia 
 doesn't, and I know she is always at home on Sunday 
 afternoons. If you should be in London on a Sunday 
 some time, perhaps you would look in upon us." 
 
 The great man graciously promised to do so. It 
 was pretty well understood among Mr. Mostyn's 
 fashionable friends that he did not expect to be 
 invited to anything except dinners, and that his 
 presence even at a dinner-party was a favour which 
 demanded suitable acknowledgment ; but Veronica 
 Dimsdale was privileged. He had a sort of paternal 
 affection for her, and allowed her to take liberties 
 which children may take with their parents, literary 
 and other
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 VERONICA MAKES INQUIRIES. 
 
 The Honourable Mrs. Mansfield was a well-pre- 
 served widow of between fifty and sixty, with whom 
 life had gone as smoothly as she had permitted it to 
 go. Absolute, unbroken smoothness is, no doubt, 
 repellent to human nature, as being far too mono- 
 tonous and affording none of those contrasts which 
 enable us to determine whether we are contented or 
 the reverse at any given moment ; so this fortunate 
 lady, who had neither husband, nor children, nor 
 monetary worries, nor bad health to distress her, 
 had felt bound during many years to seek out grounds 
 of dissatisfaction for herself, though she had been 
 sometimes hard put to it to discover them. Her 
 brother Samuel, to do him justice, had always been 
 ready to oblige any fellow-creature who might be 
 suffering from lack of causeless annoyance, and
 
 VEROXICA MAKES INQUIRIES 49 
 
 there had been frequent differences, attaining almost 
 to the dignity of quarrels, between him and Mrs. 
 Mansfield ; but now poor Samuel had departed for 
 scenes where bickering is presumably unknown, and 
 notwithstanding the comfortable little legacy of five 
 thousand pounds which he had bequeathed to his 
 "beloved sister Julia," the latter would have been 
 inconsolable had he not displayed the most con- 
 siderate inconsideration by disposing of the bulk of 
 his property after a fashion which was enough to 
 make an}^ sensible woman wring her hands in 
 despair. It really was rather hard, at her time 
 of life, to be saddled with the care of a girl who was 
 decidedly odd, probably wilful and quite obviously 
 unfitted to stand alone. One must not shirk such 
 duties, distasteful though they may be. One cannot 
 turn one's back upon one's poor sister's child. One 
 must look forward, w^th such courage as can be 
 mustered, to endless troubles and vexations. One 
 must expect no thanks, and perhaps very little 
 success ; one must endeavour not to think evil of 
 the dead, and to assume charitably that Samuel, 
 when he did a perfectly idiotic thing, was not alto- 
 gether responsible for his actions. This was what 
 Mrs. Mansfield was saying to herself as she sat 
 VOL. I. 4
 
 50 A VICTIM OF GOOD LUCK 
 
 before the fire in her pretty drawing-room in South 
 Audley Street awaiting the advent of the niece whom 
 she had summoned. She knew that Veronica was 
 odd, because she had already had the girl to stay 
 with her once — on that occasion when her well- 
 meant attempt to effect a reconciliation between the 
 uncle and niece had fallen through. She anticipated 
 trouble, because — since it was evident that the 
 heiress could not dispense with a chaperon — the 
 finger of fate seemed to point unmistakably towards 
 the person upon whom that function must devolve. 
 And she was dreadfully distressed because poor 
 Horace Trevor, whom she had always liked and 
 tried to befriend, was left out in the cold, without, 
 in reality, having done anything at all to deserve 
 such treatment. 
 
 All this did not prevent her from warmly embracing 
 the tall, sable-clad girl who was shown into the 
 room just as it was becoming dark enough to ring 
 for lamps. 
 
 "My dear child!" she exclaimed, "I am so 
 delighted to have you with me again ! Come and 
 sit down and have some tea ; you must be perished 
 with cold after your railway journey in this bitter 
 wind!"
 
 VEROXICA MAKES INQUIRIES 51 
 
 Veronica surveyed the pretty old lady, whose hair 
 was drawn up high above her forehead, whose dia- 
 monds flashed in the firelight and whose slim fingers 
 continued to clasp her own after they had both seated 
 themselves. She had not yet quite made up her 
 mind whether she liked Mrs. Mansfield or not. 
 Certainly, Aunt Julia had been kind, and had 
 written her affectionate letters from time to time ; 
 but her kindness had not been of the practical order 
 displayed by the good people of Harbury \^ale, nor 
 was there any reason to suppose that the new order 
 of things was welcome to a lady who had always 
 seemed to acquiesce philosophically enough in the 
 sentence of banishment pronounced upon the child 
 of erring parents. 
 
 *' Aren't you disgusted ?" she asked presently. 
 
 *' Oh, not with you, dear !" Mrs. Mansfield replied, 
 laughing a little. " Of course, I do think it is rather 
 a pity — as much for your sake as for anybody's." 
 
 ** So do I, I am sure !" agreed Veronica. " Still, 
 we may perhaps hit upon some means of putting 
 matters a little more straight than they are at pre- 
 sent. I want you to tell me all about Mr. Horace 
 Trevor ; you said in your letter that you would." 
 
 Mrs. Mansfield declined to do that upon the spur 
 
 LIBRARY 
 
 UNIVERSITY OF liUmiS
 
 52 A VICTIM OF GOOD LUCK 
 
 of the moment. She declared that neither she nor 
 the injured Horace nor anybody else had ever 
 dreamed of attaching the smallest blame to a 
 palpably innocent supplanter, and that, upon the 
 whole, it was a case of least said soonest mended. 
 But later in the evening she was induced to become 
 more communicative. Sitting in the drawing-room 
 with her niece, after a little dinner which had been 
 admirably cooked and served, and in the course of 
 which she had felt moved towards a certain sym- 
 pathy of intercourse, she narrated the story of the 
 difference that had proved so terribly expensive to 
 the late Mr. Trevor's reputed heir. 
 
 *' It really was too ridiculous ! — the sort of thing 
 that nobody in the world except Samuel would ever 
 have wasted a second thought upon. As if all young 
 men didn't bet occasionally ! But you know what 
 he was ; or rather, perhaps, you don't know. Next 
 to Roman Catholics, I believe, he looked upon 
 gamblers and what he used to call ' Sabbath- 
 breakers ' as being about the most hopelessly wicked 
 beings on earth ; so when it transpired that Horace 
 had been to the Grand Prix last year, and had, un- 
 fortunately, backed the horse that didn't win into the 
 bargain, there was a fine fuss. Of course, there had
 
 VERONICA MAKES INQUIRIES 53 
 
 been rows before, and for my own part I didn't expect 
 that this one would have more serious consequences 
 than the others, although, now that one comes to 
 look back, it certainly did lead to a rather more pro- 
 longed estrangement. You see, Samuel, when he 
 was put out, had a way of saying the most grossly 
 insulting things in Christian phraseology ; and 
 Horace, good-tempered as he is, was sometimes 
 provoked to retaliate. He tells me he did use the 
 expression ' damned hypocrisy,' which he ought not 
 to have done ; still, I am bound to confess that I 
 myself have more than once accused my brother of 
 the same thing — minus the adjective." 
 
 Veronica broke into one of her abrupt fits of 
 laughter, in which Mrs. Mansfield, after a moment 
 of hesitation, joined. 
 
 '' Not that it is any laughing matter for poor 
 Horace," the latter observed ruefully. 
 
 " What is he like ?" Veronica asked. 
 
 " Well, he is a nice, clean-looking little fellow, 
 with short brown hair and gray eyes and no mous- 
 tache ; there are dozens and dozens of them about. 
 It seems to me that men weren't turned out so 
 exactly after the same pattern when I was young ; 
 but perhaps that is a fallacy."
 
 54 A VICTIM OF GOOD LUCK 
 
 " I didn't mean in appearance," said Veronica. 
 
 " Oh, as far as character goes, I think he might 
 be placed very near the top of his class ; though I 
 don't say that that is the very highest class of all. 
 Personally, I have no particular love for immaculate 
 youths ; I like them to be just a bit naughty, so long 
 as they are gentlemen ; don't you ?" 
 
 *' I like them to be gentlemen," answered 
 Veronica, *' and I like them to be of some use in the 
 world — or, at least, to try." 
 
 *' Well, my dear," returned Mrs. Mansfield, a little 
 sharply, '' Horace would have been of great use in 
 the world if he had been allowed to become a 
 country gentleman — which is what Nature intended 
 him to be. So far, he really hasn't had a chance. 
 Samuel forced him to resign his commission in the 
 23rd Hussars because he said that cavalry officers 
 were a godless crew ; then he kept him for several 
 years kicking his heels about in London without any 
 occupation ; and now, at last, he cuts him off with a 
 miserable legacy of ten thousand pounds, which, he 
 says in his will, is equivalent to an allowance of five 
 hundred pounds a year; though everybody knows 
 that four per cent, is the very outside that can be 
 obtained upon reasonable security."
 
 VEROXICA MAKES INQUIRIES 55 
 
 *' What could have made him put me in Mr. 
 Horace Trevor's place ?" ejaculated Veronica medi- 
 tatively. " Did he by any chance think that Nature 
 had intended me to be a country gentleman ?" 
 
 *' My dear, I can't tell you what he thought. He 
 may have had some qualms of conscience about the 
 wa}^ in which he treated your poor mother, or he 
 may have nominated you simply because he was in 
 a rage and because he couldn't think of anybody 
 else. Most likely he knew that if he left Broxham 
 to me I should immediately hand the place over to 
 Horace. But really, when one begins attempting to 
 account for the actions of such a man as Samuel 
 was, the imagination reels !" 
 
 Veronica nodded, and asked no more questions 
 that evening. At breakfast the next day, however, 
 she stated quietly that she was going to Lincoln's- 
 Inn Fields to see Mr. Walton, as she had not quite 
 made up her mind what to do about her inheritance. 
 
 *' I don't know that there is very much to be done 
 about it, except to take possession of it when it is 
 handed over by the executors," Mrs. Mansfield said ; 
 *' and Mr. Walton will call here, if you write him a 
 line. It would be more to the purpose to decide 
 how and where you are to live in future."
 
 56 A VICTIM OF GOOD LUCK 
 
 " But that will have to depend a good deal upon 
 what Mr. Walton says. I think I had better go to 
 his office ; I shall be more sure of securing his un- 
 divided attention there." 
 
 *' When I was young," observed Mrs. Mansfield — 
 '* I am sorry to keep on using that phrase, but it is 
 perpetualty being forced upon me — it would have 
 been considered most improper for a girl of your age 
 to go off into the City all alone." 
 
 " But it isn't considered improper now." 
 
 " No, it isn't considered improper now. In some 
 ways you are curiously modern, Veronica ; I noticed 
 that when you were here before, and I can't think 
 how you arrived at modernity, living down in the 
 depths of the country. Something in the general 
 atmosphere of the age, I suppose. Well, if you 
 never do anything worse than hunt up a musty old 
 lawyer in his lair, I shall not feel entitled to remon- 
 strate with you." 
 
 So presently Veronica was borne in a swift hansom 
 to Lincoln's Inn Fields, where she was received by 
 a tall, elderly gentleman, who at once set to work 
 to explain the various provisions of his late client's 
 testament. 
 
 " I am sure you have made it all most beautifully
 
 VEROXICA MAKES INQUIRIES 57 
 
 clear," Veronica said, after several fruitless attempts 
 to check the flow of his discourse, "but what I more 
 particularly wanted to ask you was whether you 
 know my uncle's real motive for disinheriting Mr. 
 Horace Trevor." 
 
 "Well," replied the lawyer, smiling; " I believe 
 that he did not approve of young Mr. Trevor's 
 habits." 
 
 " But are young Mr. Trevor's habits so very 
 objectionable ? I have heard nothing against him 
 so far, except that he sometimes bets and that he 
 once went to the races on a Sunday." 
 
 " As far as I am aware, you could not have heard 
 much more than that against him. I have known 
 Horace Trevor from his boyhood, and I should say 
 that very few young men in his position could show 
 so clean a record." 
 
 " Then you agree with me that he has been 
 abominably ill-treated ?" 
 
 *' I would rather not express any opinion as to 
 that, Miss Dimsdale. I think he has been exceed- 
 ingly foolish, and I have often told him so. Know- 
 ing what Mr. Trevor's religious views were, he ought 
 to have had the common-sense to abstain from 
 running counter to them ; and he has nobody but
 
 58 A VICTIM OF GOOD LUCK 
 
 himself to blame for what has happened. I say 
 nothing about the payment of his debts ; the amount 
 was trifling on each occasion, and we all know that 
 young men with expectations are apt to be thought- 
 less and extravagant. But why the deuce — why in 
 the world, I mean — he must needs attend a race- 
 meeting on a Sunday, when every other day of the 
 week was open to him, passes my poor powers of 
 comprehension !" 
 
 *' Oh, I like him all the better for that," Veronica 
 declared. "If he didn't think he was committing 
 any sin by spending Sunday in that way, he was 
 quite right to have the courage of his opinions. I 
 only wanted to find out whether there was the 
 slightest excuse for his having been deprived of his 
 inheritance. As it is, I shall probably restore it to 
 him. I suppose that can be done quite legally ?" 
 
 " Oh, yes ; you can legally dispose of your pro- 
 perty in any way that you may think fit," answered 
 Mr. Walton, looking rather amused. 
 
 " Then perhaps you will kindly undertake the 
 business for me when the time comes. I cannot 
 give you positive instructions just yet, because I 
 don't think I ought to act in a hurry, and, in any 
 case, I think I should be justified in keeping part of
 
 VERONICA MAKES INQUIRIES 59 
 
 the money for myself. I believe my uncle meant to 
 leave me something, and I have quite decided to 
 retain a certain amount — ten thousand pounds 
 would be enough, I should think — in order that I 
 may help out a young cousin of mine who has failed 
 for the Army, and whom we propose to send now to 
 a gentleman farmer to study agriculture, so that he 
 may be qualified for a land-agency some da}'. That, 
 of course, will entail expense ; and I have other 
 claims upon me besides." 
 
 *' I see," answered the lawyer gravely. "Ten 
 thousand pounds is a good deal of money ; still, you 
 might, under all the circumstances, assume that your 
 uncle intended to bequeath as much to you. Your 
 purpose, then, as I understand, is to hand over the 
 residue of the personalty and the whole of the real 
 property to Horace Trevor?" 
 
 " I believe that is w^hat I ought to do ; but, as I 
 tell you, I cannot speak quite positively to-day." 
 
 *' I hope," said Mr. Walton, " you will excuse me 
 for remarking that you are the most extraordinarily 
 unselfish person I have ever met during a tolerably 
 long experience of my fellow men and women." 
 
 '' I can quite understand your thinking so," 
 answered Veronica ; " but the truth is that I have
 
 6o A VICTIM OF GOOD LUCK 
 
 no wish at all to be rich. It might be my duty to 
 give up the property to Mr. Horace Trevor even if 
 I wanted to retain it ; but, as a matter of fact, I 
 don't. It would be far more of a burden than a 
 satisfaction to me." 
 
 " Such as it is, my dear young lady, I am afraid 
 you will have to make the best of it," the lawyer 
 returned, with a short laugh. " The wishes of the 
 testator can hardly be set aside with propriety 
 simply because they do not happen to accord with 
 your own. Moreover, there is another small obstacle 
 which you seem to have overlooked : you have still 
 to reckon with Horace Trevor." 
 
 "You think perhaps that he would not accept the 
 property as a gift from me ?" 
 
 " I don't think about the matter ; I am perfectly 
 sure that he would not. And I may add that no 
 gentleman would or could do so." 
 
 " I don't see that at all," said Veronica. "It is a 
 simple question of putting wrong right, and he must 
 know that it is. As for the testator's wishes, it is 
 absurd to imagine that he ever meant that will to 
 stand. By tearing it up I am only doing what he 
 would have done if he had lived a little longer." 
 
 " Unfortunately, there is no method of ascertain-
 
 VERONICA MAKES INQUIRIES 6i 
 
 ing that. Meanwhile, the property is not yours 
 to deal with ; so that you will have time for 
 reflection." 
 
 He rose as he spoke — meaning, perhaps, to convey 
 a hint that his time was of value — and held out his 
 hand. " I am sure, Miss Dimsdale," he said, 
 smiling, "that a little reflection will convince you 
 of the impossibility of carrying out your present 
 idea. You will have to hit upon some more feasible 
 scheme for impoverishing yourself." 
 
 Veronica went away with an uneasy impression 
 that she had made a fool of herself and had seemed 
 anxious to earn a character for unselfishness upon 
 very easy and inexpensive terms. Nevertheless, the 
 lawyer had not convinced her. She still felt that 
 she must not profit by an accident and that Horace 
 Trevor must, somehow or other, be reinstated in his 
 rightful position. The only question was how this 
 was to be contrived, in the face of conventional 
 prejudices the cogency of which could not but 
 be acknowledged.
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 THE INJURED INNOCENT. 
 
 Veronica returned to South Audley Street in time 
 for luncheon, and found a smart, mihtary-looking 
 old gentleman in a tightly buttoned frock-coat seated 
 with her aunt. This was Mrs. Mansfield's brother- 
 in-law. Lord Chippenham, who had succeeded to 
 the family title and estates somewhat late in life, 
 after rising to the rank of Lieutenant-General and 
 achieving a sufficiency of renown in sundry of those 
 small wars which afford opportunity to the modern 
 British soldier. He was now sixty-five years of 
 age and looked a good ten years younger, being 
 blessed with a fine constitution, a cheerful temper 
 and a set of features which had once upon a time 
 worked havoc with the hearts of susceptible ladies. 
 Even in his gray old age he continued to be very 
 fond of the society of the opposite sex, preferring
 
 THE IXjfURED INXOCENT 63 
 
 the young and pretty ones to those whose faces 
 showed signs of wear and tear, but displaying the 
 most amiable politeness to all. He shook hands 
 with Veronica, and began calling her " my dear " 
 at once. 
 
 " I am one of your poor uncle's executors, you 
 know," he announced, " and I hear you have just 
 been seeing the other. I was upon the point of 
 saying I wished I was one of your trustees, but that 
 would have been hardly true, for it's no joke, upon 
 my word, to be a trustee ! In my opinion, trustees 
 ought to have been appointed, all the same. Well, 
 well ! let us hope that it will be all right. And how 
 did you get on with old Walton ? Found him 
 rather a formal, cut-and-dry old chap, I dare say." 
 
 " No ; I don't think I noticed that he was that," 
 answered Veronica, upon whom Mr. Walton's 
 personality had not produced a very strong im- 
 pression one way or the other. " But he snubbed 
 me a good deal." 
 
 " You don't say so ! W^ell, my dear, I'll promise 
 not to snub you, though I'm afraid I shall have to 
 refer you to Mr. Walton upon all matters of business, 
 which he understands much better than I do. Most 
 likely the truth is that he wasn't half pleased about
 
 64 A VICTIM OF GOOD LUCK 
 
 your uncle's will, and that may have made him a 
 little short in his manner." 
 
 " He cannot be more displeased with it than I 
 am," said Veronica disconsolately. " Did you ever 
 before meet with the case of a person who had been 
 enriched against her will and who would give a good 
 deal to resuscitate the man who had enriched her 
 for the sake of arguing the point with him ?" 
 
 Lord Chippenham really couldn't say that he had, 
 and seemed to be a little sceptical as to whether he 
 was in the presence of such a case now. " You'll 
 come to it," he declared encouragingly, with a sub- 
 dued chuckle. "There are worse misfortunes than 
 having more money than you know what to do with. 
 As for argument, I suspect that if you could call my 
 poor old friend Trevor back from his grave for that 
 purpose, you would soon wish you had left him 
 alone. You might argue with him till you were 
 black in the face and you wouldn't convince him 
 that he could possibly make a mistake. Argument 
 was his strong point — or, at least, assertion was. I 
 have never known Trevor's equal for dogged, per- 
 sistent assertion." 
 
 " If he was capable of asserting that it was 
 wise, or even reasonable, to leave an estate to me.
 
 THE INJURED INNOCENT 65 
 
 he was capable of asserting anything!" Veronica 
 exclaimed. 
 
 '' He was," agreed Mrs. Mansfield, with melan- 
 choly conviction ; " there can be no doubt that 
 Samuel was capable of asserting anything and 
 everything. Also the contrary of everything." 
 
 Lord Chippenham enjoyed his luncheon, as well 
 as the conversation of the girl whom he had ex- 
 pected to be an uninteresting country bumpkin. 
 Both were excellent of their kind, and both had 
 that spice of originality which is so welcome to a 
 man who is getting on in life and has seen and 
 tasted most things. What tickled his fancy about 
 Veronica was not so much her professed reluctance 
 to become a rich woman (in which he scarcely 
 believed) as the direct simplicity of her speech and 
 her evident disinclination to accept advice from any- 
 body. It was clear that, whatever might happen, 
 she would take her own line and stick to it, regard- 
 less of the prejudices or reproofs of those about her, 
 and this struck Lord Chippenham — who, it must be 
 remembered, was no longer young — as a new de- 
 parture in feminine eccentricity. However, if she 
 was not eager for advice, she was very keen about 
 acquiring information, and after luncheon was over, 
 
 VOL. I. 5
 
 66 A VICTIM OF GOOD LUCK 
 
 she returned unceremoniously to the dining-room, 
 where he had been told he might smoke a cigarette, 
 for the purpose of putting a few questions to him in 
 the absence of an embarrassing third person. 
 
 "Oh, dear, yes!'' answered the old gentleman, in 
 reply to the first and most important of these. 
 " Known him ever since he was a young subaltern ; 
 and a very smart 3'oung subaltern he was, too ! — as 
 fine a young fellow as ever stepped, I should say. 
 Though his best friends — and he has any number of 
 friends, let me tell you — would hardly pretend that 
 he was likely to set the Thames on fire. But there's 
 no satisfying some people. As for poor old Trevor, 
 he was the kind of man who would have picked a 
 quarrel with a stone wall. He would have quar- 
 relled with me years and years ago, only I wouldn't 
 let him ; and you may depend upon it, my dear, 
 that he would have quarrelled with you if you hadn't 
 had the great good luck never to see his face." 
 
 ** One always hears things too late !" sighed 
 Veronica. " I would not have failed to force 
 myself upon him if I had had the slightest sus- 
 picion that he entertained a misplaced affection for 
 me. I suppose he is very angry and disappointed — 
 Mr. Horace Trevor, I mean."
 
 THE INJURED INNOCENT 67 
 
 " Horace Trevor," answered Lord Chippenham, 
 "is the best-tempered man in the world. Dis- 
 appointed he may be — w^ho wouldn't be, in his 
 place ? — but I doubt whether he is angry." 
 
 "I think," observed Veronica, "that I may very 
 likely hand the Broxham estate over to him. It 
 ought unquestionably to be his." 
 
 " Oh, you can't do that," said the old gentleman, 
 laughing. 
 
 " You mean that he would consider such an offer 
 an insult ?" 
 
 "Well, yes; it would be an insult. Moreover, 
 the property without the money would be rather a 
 white elephant. A hundred thousand pounds sounds 
 like a large sum ; 'but I can assure you, my dear, 
 that you w^on't find it so much as you may think. 
 Poor Trevor was a wealthy man once ; but he 
 muddled away his money upon Church missions 
 and Ritualist prosecutions and one thing and 
 another, and land, as I dare say you know, is an 
 expensive luxury in these days. I am by no means 
 sure that I should care to take Broxham as a gift 
 myself. However, that is neither here nor there. 
 You and I may have our own opinion as to your 
 uncle's wisdom and justice, but what has been done
 
 68 A VICTIM OF GOOD LUCK 
 
 can't be undone. We must accommodate ourselves 
 to circumstances, that's all." 
 
 Perh^rs the same notion may have suggested 
 itself at the same moment to both malcontents ; for 
 their eyes met, and they broke into a simultaneous 
 laugh. The one method of pleasing everybody and 
 undoing what had been done was so ludicrously 
 apparent I They did not, of course, carry indis- 
 cretion to the length of putting their ::::.. ^":.:s into 
 words ; but Lord Chippenham presently departed in 
 so cheerful and benevolent a frame of mind that, 
 instead of making for the military club where he 
 was wont to enjoy an afternoon rubber of whist, he 
 turned in at another and somewhat smarter estab- 
 lishment, and inquired for Mr. Horace Trevor. 
 
 He was scon srreeted by a young man, dressed in 
 deep mourning, whose appearance corresponded so 
 exactlv with the succinct description of it given to 
 \'eronica by Mrs. Mansr.eld that it is needless to 
 say anything more about him, except that he had a 
 remarkably pleasant smile. 
 
 "Still in Lcni:::. General?" this injured but by 
 no means desj Jiie:.:-.- :k:::^ indiN-idual said. 
 
 "Where else should I be ?" returned Lord Chip- 
 pcnh:.::.. "If you know any better place than
 
 THE INJURED INNOCENT 69 
 
 London to be in at this impossible season of the 
 year, you would do me a favour by letting me hear 
 where it is. Besides, I've had matters of business 
 to attend to. Come into the smoking-room ; I want 
 to talk to you." 
 
 And when he had ensconced himself in a comfort- 
 able armchair, he resumed : " Well, my dear boy, I 
 have been lunching with Julia, and I have seen the 
 heiress. All things considered, I think we may cer- 
 tainly congratulate ourselves. Strictly speaking, she 
 isn't exactly what I should call a beauty ; but she is 
 quite a lady, and she looks distinguished — yes, dis- 
 tinguished is decidedly the word. Clever, too, I 
 should imagine, from the way that she talks, and 
 quick at seeing things. In short, I'm convinced 
 that she'll do." 
 
 *' Oh, well — that's all right," responded the young 
 man vaguely. " I am glad she is presentable, though 
 it doesn't make much odds to me what she is like." 
 
 *' My dear fellow, it makes all the odds in the 
 world to you, seeing that she is your future bride." 
 
 "The deuce she is!" ejaculated the future bride- 
 groom, staring blankly at his elderly mentor. " Who 
 on earth told you that, General ?" 
 
 *' Come now, Horace, don't pretend that you have
 
 70 A VICTIM OF GOOD LUCK 
 
 never thought of such a thing ! It occurred to me 
 as soon as I heard the will read, and so it did to 
 Julia. Also, I suspect, to the young lady herself, 
 who, I may tell you, is full of remorse for having cut 
 you out." 
 
 " Oh, but that was no fault of hers," returned 
 Horace hastily, "and I'm sure it never entered into 
 my head to blame her in any way. I do trust you 
 and Aunt Julia haven't been telling her that she 
 ought to make amends by marrying me out of 
 hand!" 
 
 " Do you set us down as born fools ?" asked Lord 
 Chippenham. " We aren't advocating indecent 
 haste or anything of that sort ; only we have the 
 common-sense to see that the very best thing that 
 could happen would be for you two to take a fancy 
 to one another. And there's no reason that I know 
 of why you shouldn't. Anyhow, you had better go 
 round to South Audley Street and judge for your- 
 self. Your Aunt Julia was complaining that you 
 never go to see her now." 
 
 Horace Trevor had always been accustomed to 
 address Mrs. Mansfield as "Aunt Julia," although 
 in reality she was no more his aunt than the defunct 
 philanthropist who had for so many years posed as
 
 THE INJURED INNOCENT 71 
 
 his benefactor had been his uncle. He had a 
 genuine regard for her and a grateful recollection 
 of the frequent occasions on which she had under- 
 taken to make his peace with her exacting brother. 
 If he had been somewhat remiss about paying his • 
 respects to her of late, this was because he did not 
 wish to listen to lamentations over what could not 
 now be helped. He had, of course, behaved like a 
 fool ; he had not been as conciliatory as he might 
 have been ; he had argued when it would have been 
 just as easy, and a great deal more sensible, to have 
 remained silent ; he had not chosen to clear himself 
 from imputations for which there had been very 
 little real ground. But all that was over and done 
 with, and what was the good of grumbling ? Horace 
 Trevor had always been of opinion that a man ought 
 to preserve his independence ; he had acted in ac- 
 cordance with his convictions (for he did not think 
 that the payment of a few trifling debts by his uncle 
 constituted any surrender of them) and he had been 
 charged a heavier price than he had anticipated for 
 the privilege. It only remained for him to grin and 
 bear it, and, having an ample stock of good-humour 
 to draw upon, he had accomplished both feats credit- 
 ably enough. It certainly had not occurred to him
 
 72 A VICTIM OF GOOD LUCK 
 
 that his misfortune was in any way remediable ; still 
 less had he contemplated rendering the late Mr. 
 Trevor s will of none effect by the simple expedient 
 of espousing Miss Veronica Dimsdale. 
 
 He felt no inclination to do so now — in fact he 
 was quite determined not to do so ; but Lord Chip- 
 penham's remarks had stimulated his curiosity a 
 little, and he thought he would rather like to see 
 the girl. He also thought that he would like to 
 have an opportunity of making it clear to her that 
 he was neither jealous nor covetous. He could well 
 understand that the poor girl might be troubled 
 with scruples, and he had no difficulty in realizing 
 how Aunt Julia, with the best intentions in the 
 world, would foster and encourage these. He pic- 
 tured Veronica to himself as a simple little maiden, 
 prone to be influenced by the suggestions of her 
 elders and liable to be made unhappy by their dis- 
 pleasure. Now, one does not, if one is a good 
 fellow in the main, want an unoffending girl to be 
 made unhappy, even though she has stepped into a 
 pair of shoes which were constructed for one's own 
 feet and are likely to prove a trifle too large for her 
 to wear with comfort. 
 
 On the following afternoon, therefore, Mr. Horace
 
 THE INJURED INNOCENT 73 
 
 went his way to South Audley Street, prepared to be 
 very nice and friendly and to make everybody com- 
 fortable. He was far from being a conceited young 
 man ; but he did flatter himself that he had the 
 knack of setting people at their ease, and he had 
 every excuse for so believing. As a matter of fact, 
 he had pleasant manners, and, being fond of his 
 fellow-creatures, was universally beloved by them. 
 Even old Mr. Trevor had probably loved him, while 
 sternly disapproving of him. At all events, there 
 could be no question as to the sentiments enter- 
 tained for him by Mrs. Mansfield, who jumped up 
 when he was shown into her drawing-room, and 
 greeted him with effusion. 
 
 " My dear boy," she exclaimed, '' this is good of 
 you ! You know that Veronica Dimsdale is here ? — 
 staying in the house, at least. She isn't at home 
 just now, I am sorry to say, which is most unfortu- 
 nate. I wanted vou so much to see her !" 
 
 "Well, I called to see you, you know," Horace 
 remarked, with partial truth. 
 
 " Then all that I can say is that you have called 
 to see a deeply disgusted old woman. I can't get 
 over it, Horace. I really can't ! And if we were 
 not assured that purgatory is a fond thing, vainly
 
 74 A VICTIM OF GOOD LUCK 
 
 invented, I should feel far from confident as to poor 
 Samuel's state." 
 
 " Oh, you'll get over it," said Horace cheerfully ; 
 " I have already. Now let's hear about the heiress ; 
 the General was praising her up to the skies yester- 
 day." 
 
 Mrs. Mansfield might have been imprudent enough 
 to imitate Lord Chippenham in that respect if she 
 had not detected a half-amused, half-apprehensive 
 look in Horace's gray eyes which warned her against 
 a too speedy betrayal of her schemes. As it was, 
 she only said, '' Oh, Veronica is charming. Not 
 quite your style, perhaps ; still, charming in her own 
 way. I don't suppose it will be very long before 
 some good man relieves me of all further responsi- 
 bihty for her." 
 
 " I don't suppose it will. Broxham is worthy of 
 the attention of good men — not to mention bad 
 ones." 
 
 "Ah ! but I mean she will be married for her own 
 sake. Tastes differ, you know. Of course, as I say, 
 she isn't the sort of girl whom you would be likely 
 to admire." 
 
 " I admire all sorts," declared Horace, who was 
 not in the least taken in by this rather transparent
 
 THE INJURED INNOCENT 75 
 
 diplomacy ; " what makes you think that I shouldn't 
 appreciate your Veronica ? I thought you were so 
 anxious for me to meet her." 
 
 " So I am," answered Mrs. Mansfield ; " and so is 
 she, poor thing ! For naturally she cannot help feel- 
 ing that you owe her a grudge, and she wants to be 
 assured that you don't. I only meant to say that 
 she is not at all like the class of young women with 
 whom you are in the habit of flirting. The chances, 
 I am afraid, are that you won't hit it off with her." 
 
 A few leading questions extorted from Mrs. Mans- 
 field the confession that she herself had not as yet 
 been brilliantl}' successful in hitting it off with her 
 niece, whom she pronounced to be an incompre- 
 hensible mixture of docility and self-will. 
 
 *' She has evidently been ver}^ well educated, but 
 I doubt whether she has been very well brought up. 
 She seems to have been accustomed to take her own 
 way as a matter of course, and she won't discuss 
 things. She either yields or she doesn't. More 
 often than not, I suspect, she doesn't. When I told 
 her that it wasn't quite the proper thing for her to 
 go to the National Gallery this afternoon all by 
 herself she wanted to know why. I said she might 
 be insulted ; but she declared that she really couldn't
 
 76 A VICTIM OF GOOD LUCK 
 
 believe that, and off she went without more ado. 
 Yet it stands to reason that she may be insulted." 
 
 *' Oh, I expect she'll be all right," said Horace 
 easily. *' I have never been in the National Gallery 
 myself, so I don't know what sort of people frequent 
 that place of amusement ; but I should imagine that 
 they would be a highly respectable lot. Besides, I 
 understand that she doesn't shine conspicuously in 
 the matter of personal beauty." 
 
 Mrs. Mansfield said rather crossly that wasn't the 
 question. " I suppose the General has been telling 
 you that she is plain : he calls everybody plain who 
 hasn't a little mouth and big eyes and a perfectly 
 meaningless cast of countenance, like the beauties 
 of his boyhood. Times have changed since then, 
 and, unless I am very much mistaken, Veronica will 
 have as many admirers as she can possibly want 
 before she is much older." 
 
 The problem was to arouse Horace's interest and 
 predispose him in Veronica's favour, without hinting 
 at the possibility of his doing anything so eminently 
 satisfactory as to fall in love with her. Mrs. Mans- 
 field, more judicious than her fellow-conspirator, 
 was alive to all the risks attendant upon plain 
 speech, and when, on the expiration of half an
 
 THE INJURED INNOCENT 77 
 
 hour, the young man, after glancing at his watch, 
 said he must be off, she did not feel able to con- 
 gratulate herself upon having advanced far towards 
 the attainment of her purpose. 
 
 But in truth she had been more successful than 
 she supposed ; and the proof of this was that when 
 Horace Trevor left South Audley Street, he bent his 
 steps unhesitatingly in the direction of Trafalgar 
 Square. He said to himself that really, when you 
 came to think of it, it was a scandalous thing never 
 to have been inside the National Gallery ; and he 
 also said to himself that it would be rather amusing 
 to try and discover which of the dowdy females 
 whom he expected to encounter there was Miss 
 Veronica Dimsdale. 
 
 He was not, however, destined to increase his 
 very scanty acquaintance with the pictorial art 
 that day ; for he reached his destination only in 
 time to find that the doors were about to be closed 
 and that everybody was coming out. He lingered 
 for a few minutes at the entrance, watching the 
 people as they emerged, and presently his eye fell 
 upon a tall young lady in black, who, he at once 
 made up his mind, must be no other than his fair 
 supplanter. All doubt as to her identity was re-
 
 78 A VICTIM OF GOOD LUCK 
 
 moved when, after looking about her in obvious 
 perplexity, she addressed the attendant constable. 
 
 " I can't remember whether I ought to turn to the 
 right or the left," she said, in a clear contralto voice. 
 
 *' What address, m'm ?" the policeman inquired. 
 
 " That's just the stupid part of it ! — the name has 
 gone out of my head. It's South Something Street 
 — Mrs. Mansfield's. But I suppose you wouldn't 
 know who Mrs. Mansfield is." 
 
 The policeman admitted his ignorance and sug- 
 gested reference to a Post-Office Directory, which, 
 he said, would probably be obtainable at any neigh- 
 bouring shop ; but at this juncture Horace judged 
 it appropriate and permissible to intervene. 
 
 " I think you must be Miss Dimsdale, are you 
 not ?" he said, stepping forward and taking off his 
 hat. " I have just come from your aunt's house in 
 South Audley Street, and I shall be very glad to 
 show you the way there, unless you would rather 
 that I called a hansom for you. My name is Trevor; 
 you have heard of me, I know." 
 
 The girl did not seem to be in the least shy or 
 awkward. He noticed that, just as he had noticed 
 already that her voice and manner bore the stamp 
 of good breeding, and he was very much pleased
 
 THE INJURED INNOCENT 79 
 
 when she held out her hand and exclaimed with a 
 smile : " What a lucky chance ! You are the very 
 person whom I most particularly wanted to see. I 
 wonder whether you would mind walking part of 
 the way home with me ?" 
 
 He made the only reply that could have been 
 made, but his sincerity in making it was so un- 
 mistakable that Veronica felt drawn towards him 
 at once. Indeed, there were not many people who 
 did not take a liking to Horace Trevor at first sight. 
 So these two paced along Pall Mall East, side by 
 side, and the policeman, gazing benevolently after 
 them, remarked to the doorkeeper that they made 
 what he should call a 'andsome couple.
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 A FRIENDLY COMPACT. 
 
 *' I AM sure," Veronica began, *' you must heartily 
 wish I had never been born. Don't trouble about 
 protesting, for if I were you I should certainly feel 
 just as you do ; only I think you must admit that 
 I am not in any way answerable for what has 
 happened." 
 
 *' Of course you're not," the young man declared. 
 
 *' That is really my sole consolation. As I never 
 even saw my uncle, and only once in my life had a 
 sort of indirect message from him, I can't be accused 
 of having exercised undue influence. I have always 
 understood and always believed that he hated me 
 for my mother's sake. I attached no importance to 
 that message which came through Aunt Julia, and 
 which was to the effect that I should get something 
 when he died. In fact, it seems to be tolerably
 
 A FRIENDLY COMPACT 8l 
 
 certain that at the time he only meant to leave me 
 a small legacy. Oh, if he had but dropped down 
 dead there and then how much better it would have 
 been !" 
 
 '' You aren't over and above grateful for benefits 
 received," remarked Horace, with an amused side- 
 glance at his companion. 
 
 *' I have nothing to be grateful for. My benefactor 
 threw me what he couldn't take away with him, not 
 because I was myself but because I wasn't you. He 
 has placed me in a most uncomfortable and embar- 
 rassing position, and it appears to me that he hasn't 
 been even commonly honest. I suppose it was quite 
 an understood thing that you were to succeed him, 
 was it not ?" 
 
 « 
 
 " Oh dear no !" answered the young man. " I 
 certainly expected that he would make me his heir, 
 and so did everybody else ; but I can't say that he 
 ever committed himself to a distinct promise. On 
 the contrary, he threatened scores of times to cut me 
 adrift if I didn't mend my ways." 
 
 " Were your ways so very bad, then ?" Veronica 
 inquired. 
 
 *' Upon my word I don't think jthey were ; but 
 they weren't his ways, and so we had perpetual 
 
 VOL. I. 6
 
 82 A VICTIM OF GOOD LUCK 
 
 rows. I'm bound to confess that I wasn't very 
 respectful to him ; he used to talk such — well, he's 
 dead now, and perhaps it wasn't really humbug. 
 But it sounded uncommonly like it." 
 
 " He objected to your betting, I suppose." 
 
 "Oh, he objected to everything; you couldn't 
 please him, and it wasn't much use to try. My own 
 belief is that if I had joined the Salvation Army or 
 become a total abstainer, he would have found some- 
 thing to object to in that." 
 
 " I dare say," observed Veronica reflectively, " you 
 wouldn't tell me if he had had some more serious 
 ground of complaint against you than I know of. 
 Of course, I couldn't expect you to tell me. And 
 yet it seems almost necessary that I should ascertain, 
 by some means or other." 
 
 " I don't quite understand," said the young man, 
 opening his gray eyes rather wide. 
 
 " And it is so difficult to explain ! Perhaps you 
 wouldn't mind just answering me in general terms 
 if I asked you what sort of a life you have led — 
 whether it has been what is commonly called a fast 
 life, for instance ?" 
 
 Well, this was rather an odd question for a young 
 lady to put, and although Horace was not offended,
 
 A FRIENDLY COMPACT 83 
 
 it made him feel unwontedly shy. Who is to know 
 what young ladies understand by " fast " ? 
 
 " You need not," Veronica went on, by way of 
 setting him more at his ease, " feel afraid of shock- 
 ing me. Girls know many more things than they 
 are supposed to know, and I have read a good deal, 
 and I am neither deaf nor blind, in spite of having 
 lived all my life in a country parish. I don't want 
 to catechise you ; I only want, if I possibly can, to 
 account for my uncle's conduct." 
 
 " I am afraid it would puzzle you to do that with- 
 out having known him," Horace answered, laughing. 
 " All I can tell you is that he was the queerest-tem- 
 pered man I ever came across. Nothing that he 
 did ever surprised me, and I wasn't at all surprised 
 when I heard that he had altered his will after our 
 last scene. However, I may say with a clear con- 
 science that the worst offence I ever committed, in 
 his eyes, was going to the races on a Sunday. I 
 don't claim to have been a saint ; but I haven't 
 any reason to accuse myself of dissipation or hard 
 drinking, or anything of that sort. In fact, I should 
 think you could see for yourself by looking at me 
 that I haven't." 
 
 Veronica, without concerning herself in the
 
 84 A VICTIM OF GOOD LUCK 
 
 slightest degree about the circumstance that they 
 were walking down Pall Mall in broad daylight, and 
 were attracting a certain amount of notice on the 
 part of the passers-by, scrutinised his healthy, 
 honest countenance and smiled at him. 
 
 " Thank you," she returned ; " it is very good of 
 you to have answered me so frankly, and I quite 
 believe what you say. One can only conclude, 
 then, that my uncle was a sort of religious maniac, 
 and that he ought to have been deprived of the 
 management of his own affairs. After all, the way 
 in which he treated my father and mother supports 
 that theory. At the same time, I must own that 
 I myself have rather a prejudice against men who 
 are neither particularly bad nor particularly good — 
 men whose only object in life is to amuse them- 
 selves, and who never dream it is any business of 
 theirs to leave the world a little better than they 
 found it." 
 
 " Meaning me ?" Horace Trevor inquired. 
 
 " Ah ! I don't know. I might mean you. That's 
 just the question. I need hardly tell you that what 
 I should like to do would be to transfer this Brox- 
 ham estate to you without delay; but, you see, it 
 is rather an important step to take. I think, per-
 
 A FRIENDLY COMPACT 85 
 
 haps, I ought to satisfy myself first that you would 
 try to make as good a use as you could of the 
 property." 
 
 Horace burst out laughing. 
 
 " I beg your pardon," he said, perceiving that she 
 was a little affronted. " I ought to be ashamed of 
 myself for being so rude, and I am really grateful 
 to you for your generous intention. Only, you 
 know, the thing couldn't be done. In the first 
 place, I couldn't rob you of your property ; and in 
 the second place, a w^ll which was made with the 
 deliberate purpose of cutting me out of it couldn't 
 be annulled." 
 
 " I shouldn't feel the smallest compunction on 
 that score," Veronica declared. ''We agreed that 
 the man was not sane enough to make a will at 
 all." 
 
 ''Well, you said so; I don't remember agreeing 
 with you. Uncle Samuel was quite as sane as 
 most of us, I expect. Please don't bother yourself 
 any more about the matter. It's awfully kind of 
 you to have thought about me at all, and I'm very 
 glad we have met. I don't see why we shouldn't 
 be friends, do you ?" 
 
 " I should like nothing better than to be a friend
 
 86 A VICTIM OF GOOD LUCK 
 
 of yours," was Veronica's satisfactory response. 
 She added meditatively, after a moment, " In some 
 ways you remind me a good deal of Joseph." 
 
 " I often remind myself of him," the young man 
 replied gravely. " That is, if you allude to the 
 Patriarch." 
 
 Veronica broke into one of her abrupt laughs. 
 *' I was alluding to my young cousin, Joe Dims- 
 dale," she said. " He is very unlike you in appear- 
 ance, because he has red hair, and he has never 
 dressed smartly, or wanted to dress smartly, in his 
 life ; but I think you would get on together all the 
 same. You are fond of hunting and shooting, I 
 presume." 
 
 '* I am very fond of hunting," Horace answered. 
 " Of course I do shoot, but I can't pretend to be 
 much of a shot. However, nothing in the shape of 
 sport comes amiss to me." 
 
 '' Nor does it to him. Personally, I rather dis- 
 approve of sport, though I know that you would 
 justify it by the same arguments that he uses." 
 
 Like George HI., who, in his simplicity, had 
 never supposed that the Bible stood in need of an 
 Apology, Horace Trevor had not until now thought 
 of seeking any justification for pursuits which have
 
 A FRIENDLY COMPACT 87 
 
 received the sanction and approval of centuries. 
 More in sorrow than in anger, he said he did hope 
 Miss Dimsdale was not a Radical. " I haven't met 
 a great many Radical women," he admitted, " but 
 those whom I have come across have been more 
 than enough for me. Awful beings, with their hair 
 cut short or parted on one side, who made speeches 
 from platforms and wanted to repeal — well, pretty 
 well everything ! I am sure you can't belong to 
 that hideous crew!" 
 
 Veronica replied that she did not at present con- 
 template making any change in the arrangement of 
 her hair, but that she was endeavouring to bring 
 an unprejudiced mind to bear upon all subjects. 
 As she marched up St. James's Street she was pro- 
 ceeding to unfold, with considerable emphasis and 
 appropriate gesticulation, the reasons that she had 
 for doubting whether the slaughter of innumerable 
 grouse and pheasants is an ennobling form for 
 dexterity to take, when the approach of a tall, 
 elderly gentleman, with a badly brushed hat and 
 an exquisite Marshal Niel rose in his buttonhole, 
 caused her to interrupt her harangue. 
 
 *' Oh, here is Mr. Mostyn ! How delightful !" she 
 exclaimed, holding out her hand to the new-comer,
 
 88 A VICTIM OF GOOD LUCK 
 
 who greeted her in an affectionate, fatherly fashion 
 and nodded to her companion. 
 
 - "I have only just run up for a couple of days," 
 Mr. Mostyn announced ; " please don't tell anybody 
 that you have seen me." 
 
 There were a few people (and Horace Trevor 
 chanced to be one of them) who thought that the 
 great man's terror of being run after was just a 
 trifle exaggerated, and that, in any case, there was 
 no need for him to proclaim it quite so persistently 
 as he did. But Veronica, knowing how great Cyril 
 Mostyn really was, always took him with the utmost 
 seriousness. 
 
 ■ " I suppose we ought not to keep 3'ou standing 
 on the pavement, where you are visible from the 
 windows of all these clubs," she said anxiously. 
 " Are you very busy, or could you, do you think, find 
 time to look in at South Audley Street before you go 
 back to the country ?'' 
 
 Mostyn smiled, and shook his head. " I am afraid 
 I can't manage it," he answered ; " to tell you the 
 truth, I have every single hour engaged. Still, I 
 might stay an additional hour or two in London if I 
 were very particularly wanted. Am I ?" 
 
 Veronica, after biting her lip reflectively, felt unable
 
 A FRIENDLY COMPACT 89 
 
 to assert that he was. What he meant, of course, 
 was that he would be wilhng to give her his opinion 
 of Horace Trevor. But she would not upset his 
 plans upon so frivolous a pretext as that, and, after 
 all, he probably knew nothing more about the young 
 man than she herself did by this time. That 
 reminded her of Horace's presence, which she had 
 forgotten for the moment, and she said : " Oh ! by- 
 the-way, you have met Mr. Trevor already, haven't 
 you ?" 
 
 The two men made the customary inarticulate 
 murmur and exchanged a few remarks referring to 
 common acquaintances ; after which there did not 
 seem to be any special reason for prolonging the 
 interview. 
 
 " I shall tell your uncle and aunt that I have seen 
 you and that you are looking remarkably well," 
 Mostyn said, as he took leave of Veronica. Then 
 he added laughingly, in an undertone, " Don't be 
 too hasty about solving that Hard Case in the 
 manner that you suggested ; such solutions are much 
 more apt to result in blanks than prizes." 
 
 When Veronica and her escort had resumed their 
 walk, the latter asked in a dissatisfied tone, *' Do 
 you like that chap ?"
 
 90 A VICTIM OF GOOD LUCK 
 
 " Oh, you certainly do resemble Joseph !" Veronica 
 exclaimed ; " he has asked me the very same ques- 
 tion in the very same voice again and again. Yes, I 
 like Mr. Mostyn very much, and I admire him even 
 more than I like him. So would you, if you had 
 read his writings." 
 
 " I have read some of them," Horace said ; "they 
 were a bit over my head, I suppose, for I must 
 confess that I found them rather tough work. I 
 have no doubt he is a genius, though. Only don't 
 you think he is a little too conceited about it ?" 
 
 " Most certainly not," declared Veronica. " You 
 can't be conceited when you are as big as that ; 
 vanity is one of the defects that belong to little 
 people." 
 
 " Well, perhaps it isn't conceit then ; perhaps 
 there's some other name for the complaint when it 
 attacks people of his size. But, whatever it may be, 
 he has got it, and I can't help thinking that he 
 would be improved by being cured of it. What did 
 he mean by the * hard case ' which he was so anxious 
 to dissuade you from solving?" 
 
 '' I have a great mind to tell you," answered 
 Veronica. *' Yes, I don't see why I shouldn't ; it 
 may help us to be comfortable and friendly together
 
 A FRIENDLY COMPACT 91 
 
 if I do. He was only referring to a mild joke that I 
 made just before I left home. I said my dilemma 
 was very much like one of those which are published 
 every week in Vanity Fair, and that the obvious way 
 for the embarrassed young woman to make amends 
 to the ill-treated young man whom she had ousted 
 was to marry him. There is no harm in my men- 
 tioning this now, because, after talking to 3^ou, I feel 
 quite certain that 3'ou will never wish to marry me, 
 and though I like what I have seen of you very 
 much, I am just as certain that I shall never wish 
 to marry 3^ou. I shouldn't wonder if other people 
 were to try to arrange a match between us " 
 
 " Oh, they will," interrupted the young man ; 
 " they have begun already." 
 
 " I suspected as much, and really one canH blame 
 them. But from the moment that we have made up 
 our minds not to oblige them they won't be able to 
 give us any annoyance worth speaking of. I hope 
 you don't mind my talking like this. You were 
 saying just now that you wanted to be friends with 
 me, and I want above all things to be friends with 
 you. In the absence of some mutual understanding 
 and compact, that might bej made difficult for us, 
 you see."
 
 92 A VICTIM OF GOOD LUCK 
 
 Horace laughed and answered, " All right." His 
 acquiescence was a shade less cordial than it might 
 have been, had he been less equivocally informed 
 that Miss Dimsdale could not regard him as a pos- 
 sible husband. Certainly, he had no ambition to 
 become her husband, while her proffered friendship 
 was welcome to him ; but it is a part of the inborn 
 perversity of human nature that we resent having 
 our disabilities thrust upon our notice, however 
 palpable they may be. 
 
 '' And now that that is settled," resumed Veronica 
 cheerfully, " let us discuss the question of the Brox- 
 ham estate in an amicable, sensible spirit. Lord 
 Chippenham says that the estate without the money 
 would not be worth having ; but " 
 
 " Oh, bother Lord Chippenham!" broke in Horace 
 impatiently. '' He may say what he pleases ; but 
 he knows as well as I do that it is absurd to talk 
 about your resigning your inheritance. Please 
 believe, once for all, that nothing — absolutely 
 nothing on earth — would induce me to accept an 
 acre of land or a shilling of money from you." 
 
 " Well, you needn't lose your temper over it," said 
 Veronica reprovingly. 
 
 Horace declared that he had not lost his temper
 
 A FRIENDLY COMPACT 93 
 
 — never lost his temper. At the same time, he must 
 decline to be bullied ; and the last words he spoke 
 to his companion, after leading her to Mrs. Mans- 
 field's threshold, were : " Now mind, if we are going 
 to be friends, there is just one subject which we 
 must agree to avoid for the future."
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 DOLLY CRADOCK. 
 
 Mrs. Mansfield was delighted to hear that her 
 niece had already made acquaintance with Horace 
 Trevor, and even more delighted when the circum- 
 stances under which the acquaintance had been 
 formed were related to her. 
 
 " What in the world could have taken Horace to 
 the National Gallery, of all places!" she ejaculated. 
 
 " I don't know; I quite forgot to inquire," answered 
 Veronica. " Now that you mention it, I suppose it 
 was rather an improbable spot for a man of his 
 tastes to be discovered in ; though, to be sure, he 
 was not in the building itself. He was standing on 
 the steps outside with a policeman and a number of 
 others." 
 
 Mrs. Mansfield smiled and abstained from further 
 interrogation. Without being an especially pious
 
 DOLLY CRADOCK 95 
 
 woman, she firmly believed in the constant inter- 
 vention of an overruling Providence, and it seemed 
 to her that Providence had taken this matter in 
 hand. 
 
 Most providential also did it appear to her that 
 from that day forth Veronica showed every dis- 
 position to be reasonable and tractable. At the 
 outset there had been no sort of certainty that the 
 girl would prove so ; she had declined to discuss 
 further arrangements, had spoken as though the 
 question of her taking up her residence at Broxham 
 were too remote to be worth considering, and had 
 generally conveyed the impression that she meant 
 to do just exactly what she might think fit — a tone 
 which no girl with a properly qualified duenna ought 
 to assume. But now, as Mrs. Mansfield was very 
 glad to be able to inform Lord Chippenham, there 
 were distinct signs of a change for the better. 
 
 " Everything is working out much more satis- 
 factorily than one could have ventured to hope," 
 she told her brother-in-law, about a week later. 
 *' It has been decided that I am to go down to 
 Broxham with Veronica in the autumn, by v/hich 
 time, Mr. Walton says, she can take formal posses- 
 sion of the place ; meanwhile, she is to stay on here
 
 A VICTIM OF GOOD LUCK 
 
 as long as she likes. And I must say for her that 
 she is not at all difficult to entertain. Perhaps I 
 ought not to let her go about by herself quite as 
 much as she does ; but nowadays that sort of thing 
 is the fashion, and it isn't as if there were the 
 slightest fear of her coming to grief in any way." 
 
 " And what about our young friend Horace, who 
 has already come to grief a good deal more than he 
 has deserved?" inquired Lord Chippenham. ''Is 
 there any hope of his redeeming former false 
 steps ?" 
 
 " The very greatest hope, I should say," answered 
 Mrs. Mansfield complacently. " He drops in, upon 
 one pretext or another, almost every day, and 
 Veronica and he talk together as if they had known 
 one another all their lives. Oh, yes ! I believe he is 
 really smitten — though, between ourselves, I hardly 
 expected such luck. Delightful as she is, and fond 
 as I am of her, I can't call dear Veronica exactly 
 pretty ; and beauty — as you know as well as anyone 
 — remains the one thing that men insist upon in 
 women." 
 
 The experienced warrior chuckled and said, " Oh, 
 we ain't so particular as all that ; we can put up 
 with trifling physical imperfections, if we are properly
 
 DOLLY CRADOCK 97 
 
 managed. Especially when it's a question of mar- 
 riage, and when the lady has a substantial property 
 of her own. Besides, I call Miss Veronica an ex- 
 ceedingl}^ nice-looking girl myself." 
 
 Horace Trevor, as it happened, entertained a 
 similar opinion, although ^Irs. Mansfield would 
 have been grievously disappointed if he had ex- 
 plained to her how it was that he came to be upon 
 such excellent terms with her niece. He certainly 
 could not and would not have paid such frequent 
 visits to the house in South Audley Street, had there 
 been a possibility of his motives being misconstrued 
 by one of the ladies who dwelt there. As for the 
 other, it was both agreeable and convenient to put 
 her off the scent. 
 
 ^' I can't be thankful enough to you," he was 
 pleased to tell Veronica, on one occasion, " for 
 having taken the bull by the horns and said you 
 would see me jolly well hanged before you would 
 think of marrying me. If you hadn't done that, I 
 should always have been afraid that you might 
 suspect me of wanting to make up to you." 
 
 " Oh, I shouldn't have suspected you," returned 
 Veronica, laughing. " You are not the sort of 
 person about whom one could ever have suspicions 
 
 VOL. I. 7
 
 98 A VICTIM OF GOOD LUCK 
 
 — they would be certainties one way or the other. 
 I doubt whether you have it in you to deceive an 
 intelligent child of five years old." 
 
 ** Oh, well, come ! I'm deceiving Aunt Julia and 
 the General, at all events," protested Horace, rather 
 resenting this charge of obvious integrity. 
 
 But in truth he was about as honest and simple a 
 young man as could have been found in England, 
 and that was one reason why Veronica had con- 
 ceived a strong liking for him. The more she saw 
 and heard of him (and she kept her eyes and ears 
 open) the more she became convinced that his 
 prospects had been marred without legitimate ex- 
 cuse and that he must, by some means or other, be 
 reinstated in the position which was his of right. 
 How this was to be contrived she could not yet 
 determine ; for she had reluctantly come to the 
 conclusion that her original idea of retiring in his 
 favour without more ado would have to be aban- 
 doned. She herself saw no reason why he should 
 not accept a property that she did not want ; but 
 the objections to such a course appeared to be so 
 cogent in his and everybody else's eyes that any 
 further attempt to combat them would be a sheer 
 waste of time. What she vaguely hoped for was
 
 DOLLY CRADOCK 99 
 
 that at some future date the transfer might be 
 effected with less difficulty. All sorts of things 
 might happen. She might, for instance, marry some 
 rich man, who would not care about being burdened 
 with an additional estate, and in that case, what 
 could be more natural than that she should pass it 
 on to her cousin ? For she had already, by Horace's 
 request and with Aunt Julia's approval, begun to 
 speak of the young man as her cousin and to 
 address him by his Christian name. 
 
 In those days — felt by her to be a sort of transition 
 period, during which there was nothing to be done 
 but to await the progress of events — Veronica found 
 life pleasant enough. Although, in consequence of 
 her recent bereavement, Mrs. Mansfield was declining 
 all invitations, she did not deem herself precluded 
 from receiving her friends, of whom she had a vast 
 number ; and it seemed to Veronica, who was ac- 
 customed to a very different method of existence, 
 that there was a perpetual stream of people entering 
 or leaving the house in South Audley Street. Many 
 of these were politically or otherwise notorious. It 
 was interesting to watch them, to listen to their talk 
 and to note how extremely ordinary were the ideas 
 to which they thought fit to give expression. States-
 
 loo A VICTIM OF GOOD LUCK 
 
 men, fine ladies, artists, musicians — all these were 
 to be met with in Mrs. Mansfield's drawing-room 
 or at her dinner-table ; and Veronica, with a strong 
 curiosity respecting the interminable Human Comedy 
 and considerable natural aptitude for discerning its 
 lights and shades, enjoyed scrutinising them and 
 trying to discover what they were really like when 
 off the stage. Moreover, if Aunt Julia's friends were 
 not conversationally brilliant, or did not care to 
 show themselves so, they had singularly pleasant, 
 easy manners. They did not look half bewildered, 
 half offended if you chanced to tell them what was 
 in your mind at the moment, as the dwellers around 
 Harbury Vale had been wont to do : their mental 
 horizon was evidently less restricted than that which 
 encircles country neighbourhoods ; added to which, 
 they were exceedingly kind and anxious to do all in 
 their power to amuse a raw rustic. The truth, no 
 doubt, was that Veronica herself was amusing, besides 
 being an heiress ; so that it would have been strange 
 if she had not achieved popularity. As a fact, many 
 people took a more or less disinterested fancy to 
 her and were glad to afford her opportunities for 
 enlarging her knowledge of contemporary social 
 developments.
 
 DOLLY CRADOCK loi 
 
 But of all her acquaintances she liked Horace 
 Trevor far the best. Now that they understood 
 one another (or, at all events, understood one 
 another with regard to one essential point), their 
 intercourse assumed a character which was in every 
 way agreeable, and even stimulating. That is to 
 say, Veronica endeavoured to make her society 
 stimulating to Horace, because she thought that he 
 rather required a touch of the spur, and she found 
 him a most docile disciple. 
 
 " Clever I shall never be," he confessed modestly 
 one da3^ " and I'm not sure that I always agree 
 with everything that 3'ou say ; but I'm quite sure 
 that you are right in telling me that I ought to 
 improve my mind, and I do read regularly every 
 night now after I go to bed, until I fall asleep." 
 
 " And how long is that, upon an average ?" 
 Veronica inquired. 
 
 *' Well, it depends a little upon the author; but 
 I'm getting on. I know quite a lot of things now 
 which I should never have troubled my head about 
 if you hadn't put me on the track." 
 
 " Any seeds of personal ambition beginning to 
 germinate yet ?" 
 
 " H'm ! not many, I'm afraid. But I'm ready to
 
 I02 A VICTIM OF GOOD LUCK 
 
 admit that I have wasted my Hfe hitherto, and I 
 would try to do something more useful with it for 
 the future if I only knew how." 
 
 How, indeed, was he to render his future life 
 useful to the community at large or of any great 
 value to himself? An ex-cavalry officer who is too 
 old to take up a new profession, and who has just 
 money enough to live without a profession, is 
 scarcely a promising subject. But Veronica's fixed 
 idea was that he was to become a landed proprietor 
 some day, and after that it would be comparatively 
 plain sailing. For the time being, there was much 
 satisfaction to be derived from the influence which 
 she unquestionably exercised over this well-meaning 
 young man, while it was at once a pleasure and a 
 convenience to have his escort to theatres and other 
 places of public entertainment. 
 
 "I don't think we show any disrespect to poor 
 Samuel's memor}^ by going to a theatre sometimes," 
 Mrs. Mansfield said. " It is true that he wouldn't 
 have approved of it, but then what would he have 
 approved of?" 
 
 Not, it must be assumed, of a match between 
 the disinherited Horace and the enriched Veronica ; 
 and, since Mrs. Mansfield's object in going to the
 
 DOLLY CRADOCK 103 
 
 play was to foster that scheme, she reflected that 
 she might as well be hanged for a sheep as a lamb. 
 At the bottom of her heart she was old-fashioned 
 enough to entertain some misgivings as to the pro- 
 priety of showing herself at a burlesque or a comic 
 opera within so short a time of her brother's death, 
 but she told her conscience that the end justified 
 the means. 
 
 What vexed her a good deal more than her con- 
 science — a fairly well-trained one — was likely to do 
 was the conviction which forced itself upon her one 
 evening that she had adopted an unfortunate means 
 of arriving at her end. 
 
 She was sitting, as usual, in the background of a 
 box, the more conspicuous seats of which were 
 occupied by Horace and Veronica, when the door 
 was abruptly flung open to give admittance to a 
 young lady in a sable-trimmed opera-cloak, who 
 accosted her with the engaging sans gene charac- 
 teristic of a moribund century. 
 
 " How are you, Mrs. Mansfield ? I saw you from 
 the other side of the house, and I thought I would 
 look you up between the acts." 
 
 " How do you do ?" returned Mrs. Mansfield, in 
 a tone of annoyed resignation. " I don't know how
 
 I04 A VICTIM OF GOOD LUCK 
 
 you could have seen me ; but I suppose you mean 
 that you saw Horace." 
 
 The new-comer laughed. "Well, yes," she 
 answered, as she seated herself; "I divined you. 
 It wasn't to be imagined that he could be at a 
 theatre with a young person of unquestionable 
 respectability and without his aunt. The young 
 person is the heiress, I presume?" 
 
 She did not trouble herself to lower her voice, 
 which was of a clear and rather hard quality. Both 
 Veronica and Horace looked round, and the latter 
 at once rose, holding out his hand. 
 
 '' Have you come up for the season. Miss 
 Cradock ?" he inquired. 
 
 The lady addressed nodded. "Awfully sorry to 
 hear of your sell," she was kind enough to say ; 
 " but I always warned you of what would happen 
 if you didn't look out. What a duffer you were to 
 let that old curmudgeon quarrel with you !" 
 
 Dolly Cradock prided herself upon her disregard 
 of conventional usages. Most of us find it neces- 
 sary to our comfort to pride ourselves upon gifts 
 which we either do not possess or should be a great 
 deal better without. This tall, well set-up and 
 somewhat muscular-looking girl, who had a fine
 
 DOLLY CRADOCK 105 
 
 figure, a clear complexion, an abundance of bronze- 
 coloured hair and a set of features to which not 
 much exception could be taken, save that her jaw 
 was rather too heav}' for beauty, might have rested 
 satisfied with what Nature and circumstances had 
 done for her. Only in that case she w^ould have 
 been ordinary, and it must be assumed that she did 
 not desire to be ordinary. 
 
 Horace, uncomfortably conscious of Veronica's 
 vicinity, answered hurriedly, "Oh, that's all right. 
 May I introduce you to my cousin, Miss Dimsdale 
 — Miss Cradock." 
 
 " Didn't know Miss Dimsdale was your cousin," 
 the irrepressible Dolly remarked, stretching out a 
 tan-gloved hand to Veronica ; " I always under- 
 stood that you were one of those thrice-blessed 
 mortals who have absolutely no surviving relations. 
 Mrs. Mansfield don't count, because she is only 
 your aunt by courtes}^, and that doesn't give her 
 the right to be discourteous, like some people's 
 aunts. I wish all mine were in Abraham's bosom, 
 I know !" 
 
 " My dear girl I" remonstrated Mrs. Mansfield. 
 
 But Miss Dolly was not in the habit of paying 
 heed to remonstrances. She now proceeded to
 
 io6 A VICTIM OF GOOD LUCK 
 
 monopolise the conversation, criticising the first act 
 of the play which they had witnessed in a spirit of 
 candid impartiality, and displaying incidentally a 
 remarkable acquaintance with the private lives of 
 certain actresses concerned therein, until the 
 entrance of Lord Chippenham created a diversion. 
 
 This left her free to devote her whole attention 
 to young Trevor, to whom she said : " Well, and 
 how are you ? Bearing up pretty well ?" 
 
 " Oh, I'm bearing up," answered Horace. '' I 
 say, I wish you wouldn't mind being a little bit 
 particular about what remarks you make before 
 Miss Dimsdale. She^s — she's " 
 
 " An ingenue ? I shouldn't have supposed so, to 
 look at her; she strikes me as being uncommonly 
 self-possessed. Upon the whole, I rather like her 
 looks, and I think I will cultivate her acquaintance. 
 Just go round to the Framptons, who brought me 
 here, and tell them I shall not be back until after the 
 next act, will you ? You can keep my place for 
 me. 
 
 Horace obeyed not very willingly ; for he knew 
 that Dolly Cradock sometimes said outrageous 
 things, and he had of late begun to form entirely 
 new ideas upon the subject of what constitutes
 
 DOLLY CRADOCK 107 
 
 feminine attractiveness. But he had no need to be 
 alarmed. Miss Cradock could suit herself to her 
 company when she chose, and Veronica was almost 
 as much pleased as amused by the frank speech of 
 this fresh acquaintance. Dolly put a number of 
 questions, obtained the information for which she 
 asked, and gave in return a rapid and perfectly 
 truthful sketch of herself and her belongings. 
 
 " Poor as church mice, and over head and ears in 
 debt," said she. " But somehow or other we manage 
 to hang on from year to year and keep more or less 
 in the swim. How it's done I'm sure I can't tell 
 you, but it is done. As for me, I am beginning my 
 third season of anxious looking out for the rich man 
 who ought to have married me, and who hasn't 
 turned up yet. Your cousin, as you are pleased to 
 call him, would have done very nicely, but, of course, 
 he is out of the question now, poor fellow !" added 
 Dolly, with a sigh. 
 
 " You can't make me feel more apologetic or more 
 ashamed of myself than I do already," Veronica 
 remarked. 
 
 " Oh, I don't suppose you owe him any apology — 
 though I must say I envy you your good luck. 
 Imagine waking up one fine morning to discover
 
 loS A VICTIM OF GOOD LUCK 
 
 that one was wealthy and entirely independent ! If 
 I were in your shoes, nothing on earth should ever 
 induce me to marry." 
 
 " Very likely I never shall," answered Veronica ; 
 *' but as for being independent, that seems to be 
 scarcely possible. I can't live alone." 
 
 " Why not ? Who is to prevent you, from the 
 moment that you are of age ? All that you have to 
 do is simply to declare your intention of pleasing 
 yourself, and then let them rave. I sometimes 
 adopt that system, even though I'm not indepen- 
 dent, and I find it answer very fairly well. Still, for 
 the present, you are not so badly off in being 
 chaperoned by Mrs. Mansfield, who is an old dear. 
 Mrs. Mansfield, I was just saying to your niece that 
 you are an old dear." 
 
 The recipient of this graceful compliment did not 
 look precisely enchanted ; but Lord Chippenham, 
 who thought Miss Dolly great fun, bent forward, 
 laughing, to ask, " And what am I, please ?" 
 
 " Oh ! you're another ; everybody knows that," 
 the young lady answered. " Only you wouldn't be 
 any use as a chaperon ; you are much too frisky and 
 flighty for such a position." 
 
 She went on chattering through the next act, to
 
 DOLLY CRADOCK 109 
 
 which she paid no attention whatever, and when 
 Horace reappeared to conduct her back to her 
 friends, she not only took him away with her, but 
 retained him for the rest of the evening. This 
 behaviour it was which so exasperated Mrs. Mans- 
 field that she could not help ejaculating, while she 
 and her niece were being driven homewards : '' That 
 girl grows more and more vulgar every day ! And 
 she has no business to be, for she is a gentlewoman 
 by birth." 
 
 *' She promised to come and see me when she 
 could find time," Veronica remarked. " There is 
 something about her that I like. It is a pity that 
 she puts on that manner." 
 
 " It isn't put on ; she has never had any other 
 manner that I can remember. Although, as I say, 
 she becomes more objectionable as she becomes 
 older." 
 
 " Horace did not seem to object to her," Veronica 
 observed, after a pause. " Was there ever anything 
 between them ?" 
 
 "Oh dear no!" answered Mrs. Mansfield, with 
 unnecessary emphasis, '' nothing beyond a mere 
 flirtation, such as he has had with dozens of others. 
 His going off with her as he did to-night was entirely
 
 no A VICTIM OF GOOD LUCK 
 
 her doing, not his. And I always think that men 
 who have had plenty of flirtations make the steadiest 
 husbands. It is so much better that they should go 
 through what has to be gone through in that way 
 before than after marriage !" 
 
 " I dare say it is," agreed Veronica, laughing a 
 little to herself in her corner of the brougham. 
 
 She was wondering whether Miss Dolly Cradock 
 might not turn out to be a valuable ally. That that 
 young woman would scruple to accept a wedding- 
 gift of a fine estate did not appear Hkely, and if (as a 
 slight change in the expression of her face when she 
 began to talk about Horace had seemed to hint) 
 she was really attached to him, and he to her, an 
 arrangement satisfactory to all parties might yet be 
 arrived at. This, however, was of course only a 
 pleasing vision.
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 COMPLICATIONS. 
 
 Miss Cradock did not lose much time about redeem- 
 ing her promise to call in South Audley Street. She 
 walked in, dressed in a riding-habit, one morning 
 while Veronica was busy over the voluminous weekly 
 epistle to which the denizens of Harbury Vale Rec- 
 tory looked forward, and announced that she had 
 come to lunch. 
 
 " It occurred to me all of a sudden in the Park," 
 she explained, " that I would rather feed with you 
 than with my own people, who are in a ruffled con- 
 dition to-day owing to some row with our best 
 tenant, who says he can't pay his quarter's rent ; so 
 I sent my old gee home and here I am." 
 
 *' I am so sorry that Aunt Julia has gone to spend 
 the day with an old friend at Hampton Court
 
 112 A VICTIM OF GOOD LUCK 
 
 Palace," answered Veronica. " Can you stand a 
 tete-d-tete luncheon with me?" 
 
 " The very thing that I should like of all others," 
 Dolly declared. " Mrs. Mansfield is a nice old 
 woman, and I am very fond of her — much more so 
 than she is of me — but on the present occasion I 
 am quite clear that I prefer her room to her com- 
 pany." 
 
 And in fact it soon became evident that Miss 
 Cradock would not have been nearly as interesting 
 or as entertaining as she was in the presence of an 
 elderly third person. During luncheon and after- 
 wards she talked incessantly, and if her talk was for 
 the most part purely egotistical, that was no draw- 
 back to it in the estimation of her hearer, who asked 
 nothing better than to obtain some insight into the 
 character of the potential Mrs. Horace Trevor. 
 Many ladies, no doubt, would have been bored to 
 death by Dolly Cradock ; for loud, slangy girls, 
 though less common than they used to be, are still 
 common enough, and the type has ceased to be 
 amusing ; but for Veronica it had the advantage of 
 novelty. Besides w^hich, she had made up her mind 
 to like Dolly. 
 
 " I have been thinking," she remarked, after
 
 COMPLICATIONS 113 
 
 listening with some wonderment to a vivid descrip- 
 tion of certain riotous proceedings at a country 
 house in which the narrator had recently played a 
 prominent part, " that perhaps you might be per- 
 suaded to come down and stay with me at Broxham, 
 when we go there in the autumn. I am afraid I 
 can't promise that you shall meet people who will 
 throw tables and chairs at your head, because I 
 don't know any people of that kind., and probably 
 Aunt Julia's friends have more sedate habits; but 
 you might give us a trial. Horace says he will 
 come as soon as there are birds to be shot." 
 
 " You may expect me," was the decisive and 
 satisfactory reply, " and I won't do anything to 
 make you or your guests sit up. One can't play 
 the fool without assistance, and I'm sure I should 
 get none from Mr. Trevor, who seems to have 
 turned over a new leaf under your tuition. He has 
 a tremendous respect for you, j-ou know." 
 
 Veronica laughed. " In what way has he turned 
 over a new leaf?" she asked. " Were the past pages 
 of his life such very bad reading ?" 
 
 " Oh no ; he has always kept pretty straight, I 
 believe. Only he used to be a cheery sort of fellow 
 and ready for any fun that was going. In a per- 
 
 VOL. I. 8
 
 114 ^ VICTIM OF GOOD LUCK 
 
 petual funk of that canting old uncle of his, though. 
 And then to think of his having fallen out with the 
 old hypocrite and lost everything, after all ! Doesn't 
 it just show what idiots men are ?" 
 
 " Well, it shows that some men are very simple 
 and honest," answered Veronica. " I like Horace 
 all the better for not having been too subservient, 
 don't you?" 
 
 " No, I certainly don't," Dolly returned. " I see 
 no sense in cutting off your nose to spite your face ; 
 I call that a very weak thing to do. However, he 
 has been sufficiently punished in all conscience, poor 
 fellow !" 
 
 These last words were spoken so ruefully, and the 
 drooped corners of Dolly's mouth seemed to intimate 
 in so unequivocal a manner that punishment had 
 not fallen upon Horace Trevor alone, that Veronica 
 was strongly tempted to make reassuring propositions 
 there and then. But she refrained. She was weary 
 of talking about surrendering Broxham and being 
 laughed at for her pains ; if the thing was to be 
 done at all, it must evidently be done after some 
 slower and more diplomatic fashion. So she only 
 remarked, " Well, the least I can do is to serve him 
 a good turn, if I ever get the chance."
 
 COMPLICATIONS 115 
 
 " I dare say he will give you the chance," observed 
 Dolly, rather dryly. 
 
 " Oh, I don't mean in that way," said Veronica, 
 replying to a speech which had not been made. 
 " That arrangement can never come off, because we 
 are both of us opposed to it. But there are other 
 ways in which I may be able to help him when the 
 time comes, if he is not too proud to accept my 
 assistance." 
 
 " Are there ? I can't imagine what they can be. 
 If he were a woman he might accept a big cheque — 
 I should, I know, and say * Thank you ' for it — but 
 men aren't allowed to do such things." 
 
 With this statement of Miss Dolly's personal 
 amenability Veronica had to rest satisfied ; for now 
 the dialogue was interrupted by the entrance of a 
 visitor, who, it appeared, had insisted upon coming 
 upstairs, notwithstanding Mrs. Mansfield's absence 
 from home. 
 
 '•' I thought I might venture to ask for you," Mr. 
 Mostyn explained, smiling pleasantly upon his young 
 friend ; " it is so seldom that I have an hour to 
 spare, and I undertook to bring you the latest reports 
 from Berkshire." 
 
 Veronica said what was polite and veracious, was
 
 ii6 A VICTIM OF GOOD LUCK 
 
 duly informed that there was no particular informa- 
 tion to be given respecting her relatives, and then 
 introduced the great man to Miss Cradock. That 
 the great man should never have heard of Miss 
 Cradock before was, of course, not surprising ; but 
 it gave Veronica something of a shock to notice 
 that the mention of her distinguished visitor's name 
 elicited no further homage from Dolly than a blank 
 stare and a slight bow. 
 
 " Mr. Cyril Mostyn," she could not help repeating 
 under her breath, thinking that she might have been 
 imperfectly heard. 
 
 *' Yes ; I know," answered Dolly, in a loud voice. 
 And then, turning to the light of modern English 
 literature : " Write a bit, don't you ?" she asked. 
 
 " I must confess to having written a bit," Mr. 
 Mostyn replied, much amused. " There are even 
 moments when I am afraid that I have written a 
 bit too much." 
 
 " Ah ! I dare say. It must be a horrid grind, I 
 should think." 
 
 *' I often find it so," Mr. Mostyn admitted. 
 
 '' Still, if you make money by it, it's worth doing, 
 I suppose. I have sometimes thought of writing a 
 sporting novel myself; sporting novels pay well,
 
 COM PLICA TIONS 1 17 
 
 they tell me. But you don't go in for that sort of 
 thing, do you ?" 
 
 " No," answered the poet and critic, " I don't go 
 in for that sort of thing. I am sorry to say that I 
 don't possess the requisite knowledge." 
 
 *' You don't look as if you did," Miss Cradock re- 
 marked candidly. "Well, I must be off. Veronica 
 dear — may I call you Veronica, by the way ? — I 
 want a hansom." 
 
 She departed presently, after taking an affectionate 
 leave of her hostess, whom she led as far as the 
 door, with voluble assurances that she would come 
 again soon. 
 
 Veronica felt bound to offer some apologies for 
 her friend ; but Mr. Mostyn did not seem to have 
 been at all affronted. 
 
 *'You think me a hero," he remarked, "because 
 I have climbed to the top of the tree in a calling 
 which you happen to admire ; but the huntsman 
 of the Quorn, whose name has probably never 
 reached your ears, is an infinitely more important 
 personage in the eyes of that young lady. And 
 why not ? I can do some things which he cannot 
 do, but it is equally certain that he is my master in 
 others."
 
 ii8 A VICTIM OF GOOD LUCK 
 
 " You might say the same of a chimney-sweep," 
 observed Veronica. 
 
 " And in circles where chimney-sweeping is looked 
 upon as a fine art I should hardly be accused of 
 mock modesty. But I did not come here to talk 
 about myself ; I came to talk about you — or rather 
 to ask questions about you. Do you know that it 
 seriously alarmed me to see you walking in the 
 street alone with young Trevor ? All the more so 
 because, when I mentioned the circumstance to 
 your aunt Airs. Dimsdale, she at once jumped to 
 conclusions which she seemed to think a subject 
 for congratulation. Your other aunt will naturally 
 hold the same views ; so that, unless you are pre- 
 pared to stand very firm indeed, you may soon drift 
 into a situation which I shudder to contemplate." 
 
 ''There is no fear of that," answered Veronica. 
 " I like Horace Trevor extremely, but I could no 
 more think of marrying him than of marrying the 
 Pope, and I am glad to say that he feels just in the 
 same way about me. We talked it over the very 
 day when we met you." 
 
 Mr. Mostyn raised his eyebrows and laughed. 
 " It must be admitted that, for a poetess, you are 
 an exceedingly practical person," said he.
 
 COMPLICATIONS 119 
 
 " I only wish I were," sighed Veronica : "that is 
 if a practical person means a person who knows 
 how to put her wishes into practice. And don't 
 call me a poetess, please ; it hurts my feehngs." 
 
 " The dictionary," returned Mr. Mostyn, "defines 
 a poetess as a female poet, and a poet as one who 
 has written a poem. I am ready to maintain in the 
 face of the world that you have written a poem, 
 and the fact that I recommend you to burn it is 
 neither here nor there. We versifiers have at least 
 one point in common with the phoenix, that if we 
 ever rise to immortality at all, it is probably upon 
 the ashes of our former selves that we do it." 
 
 " I shall never rise to immortality — nor even to 
 notoriety — nor even to publication," said Veronica. 
 " You know that quite well." 
 
 Mr. Mostyn smiled indulgently. " No," he an- 
 swered, " I don't know that. I am a little afraid 
 of it, I own, because, as I think I told you once 
 before, riches are a terrible obstacle in the way of 
 literary success. Your friend is quite right ; we 
 work for money, and if we didn't require money we 
 should do very little work." 
 
 " You will never make me believe that your poems 
 were written for sordid reasons," Veronica declared.
 
 I20 A VICTIM OF GOOD LUCK 
 
 " Not altogether ; but I should certainly have 
 written moje of them if they had proved more 
 remunerative. As it is, I write more prose than I 
 ought to do just because I find prose remunerative. 
 After all, there are but two inducements to under- 
 take the labour of composition — ambition and the 
 necessity of earning one's daily bread in one way or 
 another. The first is very soon satisfied ; the other 
 is almost sure to remain as a wholesome stimulus to 
 literary men of small income until the end of their 
 lives. Because I doubt whether even the authors of 
 sporting novels ever realize sums large enough to be 
 worth investing. For you, therefore, the question is 
 one of ambition, pure and simple, and it will not 
 take you long to discover that a woman with a 
 large fortune may make herself famous by easier 
 and speedier methods than by publishing a volume 
 of poems." 
 
 " I have not the slightest desire to become 
 famous," said Veronica impatiently ; " I don't wish 
 to waste my life, that is all. What have I done 
 that you should deluge me with cold water in this 
 way ?" 
 
 "You have committed the almost unpardonable 
 offence of being exceptionally lucky," Mr. Mostyn
 
 COMPLICATIONS 121 
 
 replied, laughing. " You really must not grudge 
 your friends the small consolation of pointing out 
 to you that your position has its drawbacks as well 
 as its advantages. But so long as you abstain from 
 the fatal step of espousing your so-called cousin, I 
 shall not despair of you. Now, may I see what you 
 have been scribbling since you came to London ? 
 For I know you must have been scribbling a 
 little." 
 
 She had, in fact, been scribbling a little, and she 
 was presently persuaded to submit her crude efforts 
 to the scrutiny of a competent judge, who did not 
 deal over-mercifully with them. He was, however, 
 both kindly and straightforward — as, to do him 
 justice, he always was, when treating of such sub- 
 jects — and she had no reason to doubt his word 
 when he assured her that she had made progress. 
 
 " You will make yourself heard of yet," he de- 
 clared, '' always supposing that you continue to 
 think it worth your while to do so. And, between 
 ourselves, it is worth while to do anything well, 
 whether a reward in the shape of coin or celebrity 
 is forthcoming or no." 
 
 That was more like the language that Veronica 
 wished to hear; but when she reverted to the topic
 
 122 A VICTIM OF GOOD LUCK 
 
 of her burdensome wealth and her anxiety to shake 
 it oif her shoulders, Mr. Mostyn had very little 
 comfort to offer her. It was evident that he had 
 no great faith in the sincerity of such murmurs ; 
 he could not be brought to treat her grievance 
 seriously, and when he went away, he left a some- 
 what dissatisfied disciple behind him. 
 
 Later in the afternoon Horace dropped in, and 
 was pleased to accept a cup of tea. He had just 
 returned from Sandown, where he had had a very 
 successful day, he announced. 
 
 " I thought," said Veronica, in reproachful accents, 
 " that you were going to abjure betting. You can't 
 afford it, you know." 
 
 " Well, that depends," answered the young man 
 good-humouredly. " I can't comfortably afford to 
 lose, it is true ; but I can do very well with a few 
 wins, and I feel quite like a capitalist this evening." 
 
 Veronica shook her head. "You might have felt 
 like a bankrupt, I dare say," she rejoined. " You 
 would have done much better to stay in London 
 and come to luncheon here. You would have met 
 Miss Cradock if you had." 
 
 Horace looked slightly uneasy. " Did you invite 
 her or did she invite herself?" he inquired.
 
 COMPLICATIOXS I2s 
 
 J 
 
 ''I believe she invited herself; but I was very 
 glad to see her, and I hope to see more of her." 
 
 " She really is a good sort," Horace said half 
 apologetically ; " though you might not think so at 
 first. Did she allude to current reports about us ?" 
 
 " About whom ? What reports do you mean ?" 
 
 " Oh, I only thought she might have chaffed you ; 
 she is no respecter of persons, and I believe she 
 would chaff the Queen if she got the chance. It's 
 all over the place, you know, that you and I are 
 going to be married." 
 
 " I did not know it was all over the place," 
 answered \^eronica, frowning thoughtfully; "I don't 
 think I quite like it. Who can have been spreading 
 such reports ?" 
 
 " Oh, Aunt Julia and the General, I suppose. It 
 doesn't matter, does it ?" 
 
 " I don't like it," repeated Veronica. " We ought 
 to be honest, I think, and I shall tell Aunt Julia 
 to-night that she must not cherish any hopes of the 
 kind." 
 
 "I trust you won't do that," said Horace; "you 
 will let yourself in for no end of worry if you do. 
 As it is, don't you see, we can be friendly and 
 comfortable together ; but there will be a finish to
 
 124 ^ VICTIM OF GOOD LUCK 
 
 all comfort as soon as Aunt Julia hears that we 
 don't mean business." 
 
 *' I can put up with a little discomfort." 
 
 " I am not so sure of that, and I am quite sure 
 that / can't. Not with discomfort of that sort, 
 anyhow. I couldn't stay with you at Broxham, for 
 instance." 
 
 " Oh, you must come to Broxham. Miss Cradock 
 has promised to come." 
 
 " Ah ! that settles it, then. The Broxham par- 
 tridges and pheasants will have to be shot by some- 
 body else this year." 
 
 And although he was begged to be more explicit, 
 he refused to make any further revelations, merely 
 saying that it didn't signify, and talking persistently 
 about the people whom he had met at Sandown 
 until Mrs. Mansfield came in to relieve him of con- 
 versational difficulties. 
 
 Upon the whole, it seemed to Veronica that 
 nobody was at all inclined to help her out of her 
 own difficulties, which showed signs of becoming 
 increasingly complicated.
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 VERONICA IS HIGHLY COMPLIMENTED. 
 
 After giving the subject full consideration, 
 Veronica decided against informing her aunt in so 
 many words that the project of undoing the per- 
 verse deeds of the late Mr. Trevor by means of a 
 matrimonial alliance was one which could never be 
 carried into effect. So far as she herself was con- 
 cerned, she would greatly have preferred a straight- 
 forward course ; but there were other people to be 
 thought of, and Horace's point of view was, after 
 all, comprehensible enough. He wanted to be upon 
 intimate, cousinly terms with the girl who had 
 supplanted him ; but he did not want to be worried 
 and bothered, nor could he attempt to explain to 
 people incapable of understanding what he meant 
 that he was too much of a gentleman to fall in 
 with their ideas. He would, therefore, simply
 
 126 A VICTIM OF GOOD LUCK 
 
 absent himself — a thing which he must on no 
 account be allowed to do. His expressed reluctance 
 to meet Dolly Cradock needed no explanation, and 
 it was entirely to his credit that, being now too 
 poor to think of marrying, he should shrink from 
 close association in a country house with one whom, 
 under happier circumstances, he might have asked 
 to share his fortunes. But it was clearly indis- 
 pensable that he should visit Broxham and that he 
 should meet Dolly there. Moreover, Veronica her- 
 self was too fond of him, and too sincerely inter- 
 ested in him, to contemplate the loss of his com- 
 panionship with equanimit}'. 
 
 All these cogent arguments led her to make a 
 compromise with her conscience. She did, indeed, 
 tell Aunt Julia that she had been much annoyed at 
 hearing of a ridiculous rumour to the effect that 
 she was engaged to her cousin ; but when Mrs. 
 Mansfield rejoined, laughing, *' Oh, my dear, that 
 was certain to be said ; it isn't of the slightest con- 
 sequence," she pursued the subject no further. It 
 was not, she thought, necessary to protest that 
 under no conceivable circumstance could such a 
 rumour be justified by the event. Nor did she 
 make any reply to her aunt's subsequent ejacula-
 
 VEROXICA IS HIGHLY COMPLIMENTED 127 
 
 tion of " Dolly Cradock, of course, has been repeat- 
 ing gossip to you ! The truth is that she herself 
 would have been only too glad to marry Horace 
 when everybody thought that he had expectations; 
 but she would never have had the chance." 
 
 As to the accurac}' of this latter assertion, 
 Veronica had her own opinion ; but of course she 
 kept it to herself She likewise kept to herself all 
 reference to the scheme of which an outline existed 
 in her prophetic mind. At least Aunt Julia would 
 not be able to say that an}' encouragement had been 
 given to her own scheme, or that the persons con- 
 cerned therein were responsible for its predestined 
 failure. 
 
 Having arrived at that comforting conclusion, 
 Veronica felt free to leave the future alone and 
 enjoy the present, which was, in truth, very enjoy- 
 able. It is no bad thing to have plenty of ready 
 money, to be allowed to do pretty much what you 
 please and to be provided with entertaining and 
 diversified society. When to this is added a con- 
 genial and deferential companion, in the person of 
 a young man whom you have every hope of mould- 
 ing in accordance with your ideas of what a young 
 man ought to be, you must indeed be hard to please
 
 128 A VICTIM OF GOOD LUCK 
 
 if you are not satisfied. During the week that 
 followed Veronica was very well satisfied indeed. 
 Everything seemed to be going as smoothly as 
 could be expected ; Aunt Julia was only too glad 
 to keep her in London as long as she cared to stay ; 
 Mrs. Dimsdale, after some hesitation, had consented 
 to let her defray the cost of Joe's agricultural tuition 
 in the house of a gentleman-farmer, with whom it 
 had been arranged that he should take up his 
 residence ; Mr. Mostyn looked in from time to time 
 and spoke words of encouragement which were not, 
 perhaps, to be taken too literally, but which were 
 pleasant to listen to. The only question which gave 
 rise to some harassing misgivings was whether, after 
 all, Dolly Cradock was quite worthy of Horace. 
 For there was no shutting one's eyes to the fact that 
 Dolly was vulgar-minded, and increased intimacy 
 with her rendered it impossible to imagine that her 
 influence upon her future husband could be of an 
 elevating nature. However, people must be allowed 
 to choose for themselves in such matters, and 
 Veronica felt tolerably certain that Horace's choice 
 had been made. She was all the more certain of it 
 because he took such pains to avoid meeting Miss 
 Cradock, and because he could by no means be
 
 VERONICA IS HIGHLY COMPLIMENTED 129 
 
 induced to talk about her. His one wish, apparently, 
 was to spend as many hours as possible with the 
 girl who had despoiled him of his inheritance, and, 
 as may be supposed, it was not Mrs. Mansfield who 
 was inclined to balk him of facilities for gratifying 
 that wish. Veronica, knowing the true state of the 
 case, could not help finding this a little amusing. 
 
 " What are you going to do to-morrow ?" she 
 asked him one Saturday afternoon when he was, as 
 usual, sitting beside her at the tea-table, Mrs. Mans- 
 field having (also as usual) retired into her own 
 sanctum to write letters. 
 
 He replied that he didn't know ; he had rather 
 thought of looking in at Tattersall's. 
 
 " Ah, but I mean in the morning," said Veronica. 
 *' You ought, of course, to be going to church some- 
 where ; but I am afraid that you don't always 
 remember to go to church. Why not come to 
 St. Paul's with me ? They are doing Schubert in F, 
 which is well worth hearing, and perhaps the sermon 
 may be worth hearing too." 
 
 " It may be ; one never knows," assented Horace 
 in a somewhat despondent tone. " But," he added 
 more cheerfully, *' I shall be delighted to go any- 
 where with you. I find that I am beginning to like 
 
 VOL. I. 9
 
 I30 A VICTIM OF GOOD LUCK 
 
 all the things that you like ; so that there's a chance 
 of m}^ appreciating the music, ignorant though I am." 
 Appreciation can hardly exist without knowledge, 
 but it is, fortunately, within the capacity of us all to 
 admire what is beautiful, although we may not be 
 able to specify our reasons for so doing ; and 
 perhaps it was because Horace Trevor's powers of 
 admiration were very great that he thoroughly 
 enjoyed the service to which he was duly conducted 
 on the following day. He had never heard anything 
 of the kind before — his previous experiences of 
 Church of England services having been of a severely 
 Protestant order — and, to tell the truth, he would 
 have been puzzled to say at any given moment pre- 
 cisely what was taking place. Nevertheless, his 
 emotions were stirred by the really exquisite render- 
 ing of a composition which cannot but appeal to 
 everyone who has even an uncultivated musical ear : 
 the pealing organ, the sweet treble voices, the sub- 
 dued solemnity of the whole scene, the sense of 
 space and remoteness in the heart of the vast city 
 touched something within him which is generally 
 known by the name of the devotional instinct. He 
 said to himself that that sort of thing made him feel 
 good — it may be that the occasional side-glances
 
 VERONICA IS HIGHLY COMPLIMENTED 131 
 
 which he stole at his companion, who had evidently 
 forgotten his vicinity, made him feel still better. In 
 these days women are doing their very best to per- 
 suade us that they are neither better nor worse than 
 we ourselves ; but the illusions — if, indeed, they be 
 illusions — of centuries die hard, and probably there 
 will always remain a sufficient supply of simple- 
 minded male creatures who, like Horace Trevor, 
 will cling to the old theory of angel or fiend. And 
 it was in very respectful and deferential accents that 
 that young man addressed Miss Dimsdalewhen they 
 left the cathedral together. 
 
 '' I don't wonder at your being fond of sacred 
 music," he said ; " one can see that it is really sacred 
 to you." 
 
 " Well, Schubert is," answered Veronica, who did 
 not quite take his meaning ; " but there are plenty 
 of masses which are distinctly secular." 
 
 *' You would say your prayers just the same, 
 though, whether the music was secular or not," per- 
 sisted Horace Trevor. " You were saying your 
 prayers this morning." 
 
 " You weren't, then 
 
 The young man shook his head gravely. " Haven't 
 done such a thing for years, I'm sorry to say. I
 
 132 A VICTIM OF GOOD LUCK 
 
 had more than half a mind to begin just now; but 
 then I thought, What's the use of making beheve ? 
 It would only have been because of — because of you, 
 don't you see !" 
 
 Veronica did not look as much shocked as he had 
 expected her to be. *' There is no use in making 
 believe, certainly," she assented, with a slight laugh. 
 *' Do you mean that you are a sceptic ?" 
 
 " Oh dear no," answered Horace, who, oddly 
 enough, was himself quite shocked at the question ; 
 ** only a sinner." 
 
 " I doubt whether you are a very heinous kind of 
 sinner, and many excellent men are more or less of 
 sceptics. There is Mr. Mostyn, for instance " 
 
 "Oh, it don't matter what he is!" interrupted 
 Horace ; " I ain't going to take him for my model. 
 What we all ought to be is what you are." 
 
 " How overjoyed Aunt Julia would be if she could 
 hear you making such fantastic assertions !" ex- 
 claimed Veronica, laughing aloud. " Don't look so 
 cross ; I didn't mean to hurt your feelings, but really 
 I am not what you take me for ; it is only the music 
 that has gone to your head. Besides," she added 
 more gravely, " Christianity doesn't consist in saying 
 prayers."
 
 VERONICA IS HIGHLY COMPLIMENTED 133 
 
 "What does it consist in ?" Horace asked. 
 
 " I am going to lunch with one of the Canons, 
 who ought to be able to tell you, if anyone can," 
 answered Veronica. " Come and be introduced to 
 him. He is a dear old man — a friend of Uncle 
 John's, and he will be charmed to see you." 
 
 It did not occur to Veronica that there .was any- 
 thing startling or out-of-the-way in thus presenting 
 herself at the house of her uncle's friend attended 
 by a strange young man ; nor was that eminent 
 divine as scandalized as his wife would have been if 
 he had had one. He was an amiable, hospitable 
 
 and somewhat absent - minded old bachelor, in 
 addition to being a distinguished theologian ; 
 Veronica's matter-of-course explanation that she 
 had brought a hungry cousin with her appeared to 
 him to meet all the requirements of the case, and he 
 accorded a kindly welcome to Horace, whose spiritual 
 hunger he was not invited to assuage in the course 
 of the ensuing hour. 
 
 As for Horace himself, it must be owned that the 
 unconventional character of the whole proceeding 
 was not without a certain exhilarating effect upon 
 him. There did, to be sure, exist a perfectly clear 
 convention between him and Veronica, by virtue of
 
 134 A VICTIM OF GOOD LUCK 
 
 which he was where he was, and which entitled him 
 to say " Honi soit qui mal y pense " to all and sundry 
 whom it might concern. Still, he was, after all, a 
 young man and she was a young woman, while their 
 relationship was a fiction pure and simple. One 
 cannot entirely ignore such circumstances — unless, 
 indeed, one is so singular and admirable a mortal as 
 Veronica Dimsdale — and his mind dwelt upon them 
 a good deal more than upon religious difficulties 
 while he sat in the dim old dining-room, listening to 
 a conversation which related chiefly to matters of 
 which he had little personal knowledge. He was 
 surprised to find how much Veronica knew, how well 
 up she was in statistics and how capable of discuss- 
 ing the social problems of a great city with one 
 whose earlier and more active years had been spent 
 in an East-End parish. 
 
 '' Do you know," said he, as they walked slowly 
 away from Amen Corner in search of a cab, '^ I am 
 beginning to think that the old chap who made a 
 rich woman of you was no fool. You will spend his 
 money more sensibly than he did, and a very great 
 deal more sensibly than I should have done if it had 
 come to me." 
 
 " I am glad you think so," answered Veronica.
 
 VERONICA IS HIGHLY COMPLIMENTED 135 
 
 She added, after a pause : '' I only hope you will 
 always do me the justice to think so." 
 
 " I shall always think that whatever you do is 
 right," returned the young man, with conviction. 
 
 That sounded like a rather bold assertion to make; 
 but Veronica said nothing in deprecation of it. She 
 was conscious of being in some respects Horace's 
 superior ; she wanted him to look up to her, and 
 indeed hardly saw how his future happiness was to 
 be secured upon any other terms. She therefore 
 permitted him, without contradiction, to praise her 
 wisdom and unselfishness in glowing language until 
 the sight of a solitary hansom caused her to inter- 
 rupt his eloquence. 
 
 There are not too many hansoms to be met with 
 in the City on a Sunday afternoon ; so that you 
 must take what you can get. Otherwise, Horace, 
 who had not a Londoner's comfortable conviction 
 that one horse is much the same as another, would 
 probably have allowed that particular vehicle to pass 
 unbailed. 
 
 "Mind his heels!" said he, as Veronica stepped 
 in ; and, sure enough, two resounding bangs upon 
 the dashboard gave immediate justification for his 
 
 warning.
 
 136 A VICTIM OF GOOD LUCK 
 
 " Is he going to kick ?" asked Veronica, while 
 Horace, after calling out the address to the driver, 
 seated himself beside her. 
 
 ** Yes, I expect so," answered the young man, who 
 looked a little perturbed. " Shall we let this fellow 
 go and walk on until we meet another ?" 
 
 But Veronica answered, with a laugh, " Oh 
 
 no ! That would be too humiliating. Besides, a 
 
 hansom isn't like a dog-cart. There would be a 
 
 great deal of kicking to be done before we could 
 
 * 
 be touched." 
 
 That was all very fine, but a hansom is an awk- 
 ward conveyance to get out of ; and they were no 
 sooner off than Horace heartily wished that he had 
 been more peremptory with his companion. The 
 animal was young and fresh ; he did not seem to be 
 well accustomed to his w^ork, and what was worse 
 was that the driver was evidently afraid of him. 
 After about five uneasy minutes — during which 
 Veronica had been placidly contemplating the long 
 vista of the Strand — the very thing happened which 
 her more watchful neighbour had been inwardly 
 dreading. A sudden gust of wind swept across the 
 street, blowing a scrap of newspaper before it, just 
 under the horse's nose. Up went the brute's heels,
 
 VERONICA IS HIGHLY COMPLIMENTED 137 
 
 down went his head, and the next moment he was 
 tearing off towards Charing Cross at a pace far too 
 good to last. 
 
 It is never very pleasant to be run away with, but 
 perhaps the most disagreeable time and place that 
 could be selected for such an experience would be a 
 London street on Sunday. Horses seldom bolt in a 
 crowd, and even when they do, their career cannot 
 last long ; but this excited beast had nothing in 
 front of him, except a couple of omnibuses, with both 
 of which he just missed colliding, and the only ques- 
 tion was how far he would run before the inevitable 
 smash occurred. 
 
 *' Sit tight!" exclaimed Horace. But, indeed, 
 there was nothing else to be done, unless it was to 
 get down into the bottom of the cab, and this 
 measure of precaution he was in the act of enforcing 
 upon Veronica when he was abruptly shot out into 
 the roadway, preceded by his hat, which somebody 
 obligingly picked up for him. The horse had slipped 
 and fallen heavily ; the shafts were broken ; the 
 driver was lying insensible upon the pavement, and 
 Veronica, neither frightened nor hurt, was stooping 
 over the man, surrounded by a rapidly increasing 
 crowd. Horace, after satisfying himself that she had
 
 138 A VICTIM OF GOOD LUCK 
 
 really sustained no injury, was for withdrawing her 
 from the throng at once, but to this she could in no 
 wise be induced to consent. Not a step would she 
 stir until a couple of policemen had arrived upon the 
 scene, and the horse had been got upon his legs 
 again, and a stretcher had been procured for the 
 luckless cabman ; nor would anything serve her then 
 but to join the procession which was presently set 
 in motion for Charing Cross Hospital, where she 
 insisted upon awaiting the verdict of the house- 
 surgeon, which was, fortunately, a favourable one. 
 Then she took the name and address of the sufferer, 
 said she would visit him again on the morrow, and 
 promised that his wife and children should be pro- 
 vided for as long as might be necessary. 
 
 All this was doubtless no more than what obedi- 
 ence to the dictates of common humanity enjoined ; 
 but there is no known method of determining what 
 people actually are or do. They and their conduct 
 are, for all practical purposes, what they appear to 
 us to be, and it appeared to Horace Trevor that 
 Miss Veronica Dimsdale was a woman of quite 
 extraordinary courage and benevolence. On the 
 way to South Audley Street he told her so, with 
 rather more emphasis, perhaps, than the occasion
 
 VERONICA IS HIGHLY COMPLIMENTED 139 
 
 called for ; insomuch that she laughed heartily at 
 him, although his praise was not displeasing to 
 her. 
 
 " I am getting my share of compliments to-day," 
 was her concluding remark, as she took leave of 
 him on the doorstep. *' At this rate, I shall soon 
 realise your ideal of absolute perfection. And yet 
 if I ever beg you to grant me a small favour the 
 chances are that you will regret your inability to 
 do what you are asked." 
 
 " Try me," said Horace. 
 
 " Well, perhaps I will some fine day. Now I 
 must go in and relate my adventures to Aunt Julia, 
 who will at once add a story to her castle in the 
 air upon the strength of them." 
 
 Horace walked off in a meditative mood. He 
 himself was unconsciously laying the foundations of 
 a castle in the air, and had been so occupied since 
 the morning; but, to do hin> justice, he no sooner 
 discovered what he was about than he promptly 
 stopped operations. 
 
 "Hullo!" he exclaimed aloud, "this will never 
 do ! A nice peck of trouble I shall land myself in 
 if I don't look out ! Luckily, it isn't too late to 
 pull up, and pull up I must before I begin to run
 
 I40 A VICTIM OF GOOD LUCK 
 
 down the hill. Henceforth, my dear Veronica, we 
 won't see quite so much of one another." 
 
 He paced on for some little distance, with a 
 rather rueful countenance, and then relieved his 
 feelings by a second audible ejaculation — for he was 
 crossing Grosvenor Square at the moment and 
 there was nobody within hearing — 
 
 " What beats me is how the General, who has a 
 pretty quick eye for good looks, can have described 
 her as no beauty ! If he had seen her sitting in 
 that hansom cab, as cool as you please, with death 
 staring her in the face, he would have altered his 
 opinion, I suspect. However, it's nothing to me 
 whether she is lovely or plain. No ! if there is a 
 certain fact in the world it is that that must never 
 be anything to me.*'
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 AN INXOMPLETE EXPLANATION. 
 
 It is very hard luck to lose your heart to a girl 
 whom you cannot possibly marry : worse luck by 
 a long way — such, at least, was Horace Trevor's 
 opinion — than to lose a fortune through her. But 
 he consoled himself with the reflection that he had 
 not lost his heart yet ; he was only in some danger 
 of doing so. As to the impossibility of his ever 
 marrying Veronica, that was manifest. The thing 
 was impossible, not so much because he had honour- 
 able scruples about enriching himself in such a way 
 as because she would most assuredly refuse him 
 were he insane enough to propose to her. More- 
 over, she would consider, and rightly consider, that 
 he had played her false. A compact had been 
 entered into, and it must not be departed from, 
 happen what might.
 
 142 A VICTIM OF GOOD LUCK 
 
 What seemed more than likely to happen, unless 
 immediate steps were taken to avert the calamity, 
 was that her natural acuteness would enable her to 
 detect a state of things which ought to be concealed 
 from her. Horace, therefore, made up his mind to 
 take immediate steps ; and perhaps it was by way 
 of inaugurating a fresh departure that he betook 
 himself forthwith to South Kensington to call on 
 Lady Louisa Cradock. 
 
 On arriving at his destination, he found, as he 
 had anticipated, a number of hilarious persons of 
 both sexes gathered together ; for Lady Louisa was 
 always at home on Sunday afternoons, and her 
 daughter's friends were accustomed to make them- 
 selves so under her roof. She herself was a faded, 
 careworn little woman, whose dress resembled her 
 carpets in respect of being threadbare and who 
 never exerted herself to entertain anybody. It was 
 Dolly's business to do that, and Dolly was generally 
 considered to be immensely entertaining. Horace 
 himself had always hitherto concurred in the general 
 opinion ; but then Miss Dolly had not hitherto 
 been entertaining at his expense, as she now saw 
 fit to be. 
 
 " Well, you have got a nice pair of broken knees
 
 AN INCOMPLETE EXPLANATION 143 
 
 on you!" was her jocose greeting. *' That ought 
 to be a e:ood twenty pounds off your value — which 
 isn't what it used to be, anyhow." 
 
 Horace glanced down, and for the first time per- 
 ceived two large muddy patches upon his trousers, 
 which he vainly attempted to rub off with his 
 hand. 
 
 " Never mind," resumed Dolly, "it looks respect- 
 able, after all — shows you have been to church. 
 One of those Ritualistic places of worship where 
 there are too many services to leave time for scrub- 
 bing the floor, I suppose. And I'll lay two to one 
 in half-crowns that I name the person who took 
 you there. What a pity that you should have taken 
 to pious practices too late in the day ! But perhaps 
 it isn't too late — eh?" 
 
 " Piety hadn't anything to do with it ; I've been 
 pitched out of a hansom," answered Horace rather 
 gruffly ; for he was conscious of an amused and 
 rather inquisitive audience, and he did not at the 
 moment care about being chaffed upon the subject 
 of his intimacy with Miss Dimsdale. 
 
 But of course there was no escape for him. He 
 was made to give a full account of the manner in 
 which he had spent the day, and Dolly's comments
 
 144 ^ VICTIM OF GOOD LUCK 
 
 on his narrative, if humorous, were not of a nature 
 to please him. He began to see what had not 
 struck him before, that he ought not to have 
 exposed Veronica to the more or less ill-natured 
 gossip of lookers-on. Mrs. Mansfield, who antici- 
 pated an engagement, could afford to allow him 
 privileges which he had had no business to claim ; 
 but since there was to be no engagement, and since 
 he had known all along that there was to be none, 
 his conduct had certainly been thoughtless. Now 
 he had to submit to the banter of Dolly Cradock 
 and her friends, his denial that there was anything 
 in the shape of a flirtation between him and the 
 lady whom he persisted in calling his cousin being 
 naturally taken for what it was worth. There had, 
 however, been at one time something almost more 
 pronounced than a flirtation between him and his 
 present tormentor, and in his simplicity he could 
 think of no better way of stopping her mouth than 
 attempting a renewal of it. 
 
 " I think you at least might spare me this sort 
 of thing," he took occasion to say to her reproach- 
 fully in a low voice, under cover of the temporary 
 diversion created by the entrance of a fresh visitor. 
 
 Dolly shrugged her shoulders and made a grimace.
 
 AN INCOMPLETE EXPLANATION 145 
 
 " Don't apologise," she returned. '' The wind has 
 changed ; you are quite right to shape your course 
 accordingly." 
 
 " But I am not shaping it in that direction, and 
 I wish you wouldn't talk as if I were. I know well 
 enough that the wind has changed, and I can't — 
 well, I can't look forward to things which I might 
 have looked forward to once upon a time ; but I do 
 assure you that neither my cousin nor I are dream- 
 ing of what you mean, and I don't want to be 
 annoyed by false reports." 
 
 " But really, my dear friend, it doesn't make the 
 slightest difference to me whether the reports are 
 false or true." 
 
 " I suppose not," answered Horace, w^ith a rather 
 hypocritical sigh ; '' only it would be kind of you 
 to discourage them. At this rate I shall soon have 
 to give up all my female friends. Some of them I 
 mustn't visit lest I should be supposed to be a 
 fortune-hunter, and others I have felt bound to 
 avoid because I have become such a hopeless detri- 
 mental." 
 
 The odd thing was that this palpably insincere 
 explanation of the fact that he had latterly neglected 
 his duty towards a certain lady friend was accepted. 
 
 VOL. I. 10
 
 146 A VICTIM OF GOOD LUCK 
 
 If Dolly Cradock had really wished to marry her 
 quondam admirer, she might have been less easily 
 convinced ; but she had no idea of linking her fate 
 with that of a hopeless detrimental. Her only 
 feeling in the matter had been one of slight mortifi- 
 cation that another should bear away what had 
 once been a prize, and she was not unwilling to 
 make believe a little for the sake of securing a cheap 
 triumph. So she said compassionately — 
 
 " Poor fellow ! Well, you shan't be accused 
 again of wanting to do the only sensible thing that 
 there is to be done, under the circumstances. But 
 it isn't necessary to cut old acquaintances because 
 you yourself have been unfortunate enough to be 
 cut out of your inheritance. Give us credit for not 
 being so desperately eager to jump down your 
 throat, and look us up sometimes, as you used to 
 do before the superior Veronica took you in hand 
 and tried to elevate your taste." 
 
 It was close upon dinner-time when Horace 
 quitted a house which he had esteemed in former 
 days to be one of the cheeriest in London. If his 
 taste had now become so elevated that its inmates 
 and habitues had ceased to attract him, that, he 
 felt, was scarcely a matter for self- congratulation.
 
 AN INCOMPLETE EXPLANATION 147 
 
 He must seek amusement somewhere or other, but 
 certainly not in South Audley Street ; and the worst 
 of it was that he doubted very much whether amuse- 
 ment was obtainable for him elsewhere. However, 
 he was determined to try — the more so because he 
 had a genuine liking for Dolly Cradock, notwith- 
 standing her lack of refinement. 
 
 During many successive days, therefore, both 
 Mrs. Mansfield and Veronica were made to wonder 
 what in the world had become of him. The former 
 ended b}^ growing seriously uneasy ; the latter, 
 though a little piqued, said to herself that nothing 
 was more easily to be accounted for than his 
 absence. Of course he had his own friends and his 
 own pursuits, neither being identical with hers, and 
 if she had been able for a time to wean him from 
 these, that only showed how good-natured he was. 
 Besides, she really did not want to have him always 
 following her about. Much as she liked him, she 
 could quite conceive the possibility of having too 
 much of his society and could quite forgive him for 
 having had, apparently, too much of hers. This 
 was what she said to her aunt, who suspected that 
 there had been a quarrel and whose persistent 
 queries were sometimes troublesome to evade.
 
 148 A VICTIM OF GOOD LUCK 
 
 Fortunately or unfortunately, Mrs. Mansfield had 
 other sources of information, from which she learnt 
 that Horace had been seen every morning riding in 
 the Park with Dolly Cradock ; and, putting two 
 and two together, she came to the conclusion that 
 the best thing she could do was to write a some- 
 what peremptory note requesting the young man 
 to come to luncheon, as she had matters of business 
 upon which she wished to consult him. The sum- 
 mons was dutifully obeyed, and the matters of 
 business (which referred to the investment of some 
 money, a subject as to which Horace's opinion was 
 of no value whatsoever) did not take long to dis- 
 pose of. Then the good lady, who had listened to 
 his observations with a great show of deference and 
 attention, said she must write to her bankers and 
 brokers at once, and begged him to talk to Veronica 
 in the drawing-room for a few minutes while she 
 finished her letters. 
 
 Now, Veronica, as it chanced, was not best 
 pleased with the way in which he had behaved 
 during luncheon. Certain symptoms — a visible em- 
 barrassment of manner, an unnatural loquacity, a 
 careful avoidance of her eye — which had appeared 
 to his hostess to indicate nothing more than that
 
 AN INCOMPLETE EXPLANATION 149 
 
 nervous apprehension which a young man who has 
 unhappily fallen out with the girl of his heart may 
 be expected to display, were open to quite another 
 interpretation, and it was in this latter light that 
 Veronica had been disposed to view them. Conse- 
 quently, her features did not relax when he came 
 into the room, smiling, and said — 
 
 " I've been sent in here to talk to you. Poor 
 old Aunt Julia ! she ain't a diplomatist of the very 
 first water, is she ?" 
 
 " As far as that goes, I don't know that you 
 are quite in a position to criticise her," Veronica 
 observed dryly. " Your thoughts are generally 
 written upon your face in tolerably plain cha- 
 racters." 
 
 Horace came to a standstill and said, " Oh, I 
 hope not !" 
 
 " I would not entertain that hope if I were you ; 
 it wall never be anything but a very forlorn one. 
 After all, there is nothing to be ashamed of in 
 having a speaking countenance, and I have always 
 liked you for being unable to conceal your thoughts. 
 At the same time, I wish you did not have such 
 thoughts !" 
 
 The young man, being now quite sure that his
 
 I50 A VICTIM OF GOOD LUCK 
 
 secret had been detected, dropped into a chair and 
 answered sorrowfully, '^I am awfully sorry, Veronica, 
 but I can't help them, you know." 
 
 " Can't you ? Well, I suppose it is natural to 
 men to be vain and — horrid. For the last two 
 or three days I have had a dawning suspicion 
 of what it might be that kept you from coming 
 here as usual, and now I know. I shouldn't be 
 telling you the truth if I didn't say that I am 
 disappointed in you. However, we won't quarrel 
 over it." 
 
 " I wish with all my heart that you hadn't 
 guessed; but don't you think I was right to stay 
 away, Veronica ?" pleaded poor Horace humbly. 
 
 " I certainly do not think that your reason for 
 staying away was a good one, and I can't under- 
 stand why you should harbour delusions which I 
 have never done anything at all to encourage. You 
 don't seem to have much belief in my word ; but 
 surely you might believe that I am speaking the 
 truth when I assure you that, if you were the only 
 man in the world, I should not marry you !" 
 
 " Since you say so, no doubt it is so. Thank 
 you for putting the case in such a forcible w^ay," 
 answered Horace, with a shade of resentment in
 
 AN INCOMPLETE EXPLANATION 151 
 
 his voice ; for indeed assurances of that kind can 
 hardly be made palatable to their recipient, however 
 salutary they may be. 
 
 *• Very well, then; let us drop the subject, and 
 begin again where we left off. It is most disagree- 
 able to be forced into saying what I have had to 
 say ; but you will allow that you have only yourself 
 to blame for it. You ought to have known better." 
 
 Horace ruefully admitted that he ought. *' But 
 I don^t know about beginning again where we left 
 off," he added ; " it isn't so easy to forget things, 
 even though one may be quite willing not to 
 mention them any more." 
 
 "Oh, nonsense!" returned Veronica, laughing. 
 " If I am ready to forgive and forget, it can't be 
 asking too much of you that you should do the 
 same. Especially as you have nothing on earth 
 to forgive. You have made a mistake, and you 
 confess that it was a mistake : that is enough. Let 
 us consider the whole incident wiped out and say 
 no more about it. Now tell me what you have 
 been doing with yourself all this long time." 
 
 Horace did his best to appear friendly and uncon- 
 cerned ; but it was scarcely within the power of 
 mortal man to help feeling a little bit sore, or to
 
 1^2 
 
 A VICTIM OF GOOD LUCK 
 
 help showing that he felt so. He had not expected 
 Veronica to divine what he himself had ignored up 
 to the moment of their last parting ; yet, since she 
 had divined it, a little more sympathy and a little 
 less hrusqiierie would not have been out of place, he 
 thought. Why was he to blame for having fallen 
 in love with her ? If he had so far forgotten their 
 respective positions as to propose marriage to her, 
 that would have been quite another thing. So the 
 dialogue that followed did not at all resemble pre- 
 vious dialogfues held between him and Veronica, and 
 perhaps, in the course of it, he dwelt rather more 
 than was absolutely necessary upon the circum- 
 stance that he had seen a great deal of the Cradock 
 family of late. When a man has just been in- 
 formed that if he were the sole representative of 
 his sex upon the surface of this planet, one woman 
 at least would never deign to look at him, he is 
 not unnaturally disposed to hint at the existence of 
 other women less hard to please. 
 
 Veronica, for her part, seemed to be, and indeed 
 was, much interested in all that he had to tell her. 
 She spoke with magnanimous approval of Dolly 
 Cradock, encouraged him to be more communica- 
 tive and shook hands with him warmly when Mrs.
 
 AN INCOMPLETE EXPLANATION 153 
 
 Mansfield came into the room with her bonnet on, 
 which he took as a signal for him to rise. 
 
 " I hope," said that well-meaning lady, as soon 
 as he had departed, " that you have contrived to 
 put poor Horace into better spirits ; he looked quite 
 ill and unlike himself at luncheon, I thought." 
 
 *' Oh, I don't think there is very much the matter 
 with him," answered Veronica, laughing, " and I 
 am sure he will always be like himself. He has no 
 sort of aptitude for being like an3'body else." 
 
 Nevertheless, she confessed to herself, after she 
 had begged to be excused from accompanying her 
 aunt to a musical tea-fight, that she had not until 
 now known exactly what Horace was like. She 
 had supposed him too simple, too unsuspecting, 
 above all too modest to fall into so preposterous an 
 error as that to which she had understood that he 
 had owned ; it did not increase her respect for his 
 intelligence that he should have deemed it necessary 
 to protect her from a wholly imaginary danger and 
 absent himself lest his fascinations should prove too 
 much for her fortitude. 
 
 *' But, never mind!" was the reflection with 
 which she finally dismissed this unpleasant episode 
 from her thoughts : " I told him I would forgive
 
 154 ^ VICTIM OF GOOD LUCK 
 
 and forget, and I must be as good as my word. I 
 think, too, that I must have made him feel rather 
 foolish. The main thing is that we are still friends, 
 and, with ordinary luck, I ought to be able to 
 arrange matters so that he shall be squire of 
 Broxham before another year is out. When once 
 that business has been settled, we can go our 
 several ways, and I dare say we shall not meet often 
 again ; for, somehow or other, I don't feel as if I 
 should ever care to be very intimate with Dolly 
 Cradock."
 
 CHAPTER XL 
 
 ENOUGH OF IT. 
 
 If we were all of us able to perceive the tolerably 
 obvious, the world in which v.-e live would proceed 
 along its appointed course much more smoothly than 
 it does ; wars would be less frequent, party govern- 
 ment would have to be abolished, lawyers would 
 have to join the ranks of the unemployed and har- 
 mony would reign in private life. But, on the other 
 hand, existence would perhaps become a somewhat 
 dull and uneventful business ; and this thought may 
 serve in some measure to console people like Horace 
 Trevor and \^eronica Dimsdale, who contrive to 
 misunderstand one another where no misunder- 
 standing ought to be possible. Veronica might 
 have had sense enough to realize how extremely 
 unlikely it was that a young fellow whose natural 
 modesty she had recognised from the first should be
 
 156 A VICTIM OF GOOD LUCK 
 
 seized all of a sudden with the panic which she had 
 imputed to him, while Horace should have known 
 that, if she had really guessed the state of his feel- 
 ings, she would have dealt more gently with him ; 
 but neither of them was capable of bringing an 
 unbiased judgment to bear upon the circumstances, 
 and thus they became estranged, notwithstanding 
 their ostensible amity. When they met, they were 
 to all outward appearance as good friends as ever ; 
 but they did not very often meet, nor was their 
 intercourse of the old confidential kind. 
 
 ''Give them time," the experienced Mrs. Mans- 
 field said to her brother-in-law, who was growing 
 impatient and who wanted to know what the deuce 
 the young folks were waiting for ; '' they have had a 
 little tiff, but they have made it up again, and we 
 can't do better than leave them to play out their 
 comedy in their own way. After all, it is early days 
 yet." 
 
 " I don't know what you call early days," grumbled 
 Lord Chippenham; "I know we are getting within 
 sight of the time when we shall all have to leave 
 London, and I want this business to be settled before 
 the end of the season." 
 
 Mrs. Mansfield also would have been glad to be
 
 ENOUGH OF IT 157 
 
 relieved of further anxiety upon the subject ; but she 
 had found out that Veronica was not a very easy 
 person either to lead or to drive, and she did not 
 want to spoil a promising scheme by injudicious 
 meddling. The wisest plan, she decided, was to 
 allow her niece plenty of liberty, to ask no questions 
 and make no visible efforts to attract Horace to the 
 house. It might likewise not be amiss to arouse the 
 young gentleman's jealous}^ a little should such an 
 incentive prove manageable. With this end in view, 
 she neglected no opportunity of throwing the heiress 
 into the society of those who were only too eager to 
 make the acquaintance of heiresses ; and if this 
 stratagem was not crowned with any great success, 
 so far as Horace was concerned, it had at least the 
 effect of causing Veronica to appreciate him more 
 highly by comparison with his neighbours. 
 
 **What would become of one's faith in human 
 nature if one were condemned to spend all one's 
 days in the fashionable world !" she mentall}^ ejacu- 
 lated, after an elderly widower and two gay young 
 bachelors had displayed the most unbounded faith in 
 her own nature by kindly offering to share their 
 fallen fortunes with her. " Not one of these men 
 can know anything at all about me, except that I am
 
 158 A VICTIM OF GOOD LUCK 
 
 rich, and evidently that is all they care to know. 
 The more I see of these people the more I admire 
 Horace for having remained an honourable little 
 gentleman in spite of them. The only w^onder is 
 that, instead of sheering off when he took it into his 
 silly head that I was becoming too fond of him, he 
 didn't hasten to profit by such a stroke of good for- 
 tune !" 
 
 But Horace, for weal or for woe, had ceased to be 
 among her intimates, and — whether in consequence 
 of that fact or not — London society had ceased to 
 interest her. She told Mr. Mostyn, who had been 
 amiably instrumental in making her known to 
 sundry celebrities who were not precisely fashion- 
 able, that she was tired of it all and wanted to be 
 out of it. 
 
 He laughed, and replied, " I have been waiting for 
 some time to hear you say that. It is necessary to 
 look closely into things ; but, unfortunately, very 
 few things will bear looking into, and very few 
 people are as big as they appear to be from a dis- 
 tance. Never mind ! there is a good time coming, 
 when you will be able to survey all this as a whole, 
 and when it will furnish you with ideas — inspirations 
 
 even."
 
 ENOUGH OF IT 159 
 
 But Veronica did not see how it could possibly do 
 that. All that can be said about the pettiness and 
 cynicism of the so-called great world and the little- 
 ness of great men has been said scores of times 
 already ; her soul yearned for the green meadows 
 and the pleasant, wholesome sights and sounds of 
 the Thames valley ; she was, in short, thoroughly 
 homesick, and painfully aware that she no longer 
 had a home. 
 
 It was while she was in this dissatisfied frame of 
 mind — which was all the more dissatisfied because 
 she could not have said precisely what was wrong 
 with her — that she was taken, one afternoon, b}^ her 
 aunt to call on Lady Louisa Cradock. She had 
 already exchanged visits and a few unmeaning words 
 with that rather dowdy and forlorn lady, of whom 
 she had retained no distinct impression, and when 
 she was ushered into a drawing-room where several 
 old women were seated, she did not feel it her 
 duty to take any part in their commonplace con- 
 versation- 
 Mrs. Mansfield, whose income had not suffered 
 from agricultural depression, who could afford to 
 employ an expensive dressmaker and was a good 
 deal more dans le mouvemcnt than they were, cheered
 
 i6o A VICTIM OF GOOD LUCK 
 
 them up with her brisk talk, reminding them, it may 
 be, of happier days gone by and exciting their 
 interest by personal anecdotes, picked up in circles 
 which they had ceased to frequent. Veronica sat a 
 little apart, scarcely listening to them, yet moved 
 with a vague pity for the poor old souls, who had 
 lost all that they really cared for on earth with the 
 loss of those two most essential advantages, youth 
 and money. Their voices, as well as their remarks, 
 were pitched in a minor key. They seemed to feel 
 — what was probably the case — that they had no 
 further raison d'etre. Soon they would be dead and 
 buried, and there was no reason to suppose that any 
 one of them would be missed. Meanwhile, they 
 pricked up their ears and a certain animation 
 became perceptible upon their withered countenances 
 when they heard that the Duchess of A had publicly 
 cut Lady B, on account of her behaviour with the 
 Duke ; or that Lord C was said to have actually 
 married Miss D, the notorious music-hall singer. 
 
 It was very hot weather. The windows were open 
 and the sun-blinds drawn down. Outside there was 
 an uninterrupted roar of distant traffic, which some- 
 how deepened the effect of profound melancholy 
 produced upon Veronica by this tittle-tattle. The
 
 ENOUGH OF IT i6i 
 
 world is so tremendously busy, and time is rushing 
 on at such a headlong pace : those who are not hard 
 at work are at least hard at play, and to be stranded 
 on the brink of the flowing current seemed to her to 
 be about the saddest thing that could happen to 
 anybody. It was terrible to think that a day might 
 come when she too would sit, useless and forgotten, 
 in a drawing-room, with nothing better to do than to 
 gossip about people whom she did not even know, 
 save by repute. Suddenly a loud outburst of 
 laughter, followed by a babble of young voices, rose 
 from immediately beneath her feet. 
 
 " That won't be quite so depressing as this, any- 
 how," she thought ; and, jumping up, she said to 
 Lady Louisa, in her abrupt way, " I am going down- 
 stairs to see Dolly for a few minutes ; I can hear 
 that she is at home." 
 
 Veronica had already more than once visited Miss 
 Dolly in the den which that young woman had 
 appropriated for her exclusive use, and which would 
 have probably been her father's study if Mr. Cradock 
 had not been a submissive old gentleman who spent 
 most of his time at his club. She made her way 
 thither unhesitatingly now, having received a friendly 
 assurance that she would always be welcome, and 
 
 VOL. I. II
 
 1 62 A VICTIM OF GOOD LUCK • 
 
 Opened the door without knocking. Then she 
 paused on the threshold, wishing that she had been 
 less precipitate, and angry with herself for having 
 done a stupid, clumsy thing. 
 
 The air was thick with blue clouds of cigarette- 
 smoke ; Dolly herself, lolling in a deep armchair, 
 was smoking ; so were two smartly-attired young 
 men, one of whom was seated upon the table swing- 
 ing his legs ; so was a third, who, as soon as he 
 recognised her, pitched his cigarette out of the 
 window and looked caught. The laughter which she 
 had heard when she turned the door-handle had 
 been quenched by her entrance. The two strangers 
 were staring at her interrogatively, and Horace, with 
 whom she felt quite irate, had the appearance of 
 wishing very much to follow his cigarette. But Dully 
 was not easily put out of countenance. 
 
 '' Come in," she said ; " sit down and make your- 
 self comfortable. No use to offer you tobacco, I 
 
 « 
 
 suppose. Now, Tommy, go on with your story." 
 The young gentleman addressed slid off the table 
 
 and began to look for his hat. " Tell you the rest 
 
 some other day," he answered ; " it's about time for 
 
 me to be off now." 
 
 It took him some minutes to make his adieux and
 
 ENOUGH OF IT i6' 
 
 to murmur a few parting jocularities in Miss 
 Cradock's ear, while Veronica, who had not sat 
 down and was feeling far from comfortable, awaited 
 his exit. But at length he went away, taking his 
 friend with him, and then the intruder was able to 
 apologise. 
 
 " I am very sorry to have broken up your party," 
 she said, in a voice which she could not keep from 
 sounding constrained and annoyed. " I ought to 
 have known better than to bounce in upon you in 
 that way, and I will never do such a thing again, I 
 promise 3'ou." 
 
 "■ Oh, we don't mind, if you don't," returned 
 Dolly, with a laugh and a glance at Horace, who, 
 for his part, seemed to mind a good deal ; " the 
 only misfortune is that you have been shocked. 
 Not so shocked as you would have been if you had 
 heard the end of that story; still, quite shocked 
 enough. What can I say ? There is really no 
 blinking the fact that I do enjoy a cigarette occa- 
 sionally." 
 
 " It would be no business of mine if you enjoyed a 
 pipe," returned Veronica, not ver}^ civilly; "but I 
 wish I had not prevented you from enjoying the 
 conclusion of your friend's story. As you know it
 
 i64 A VICTIM OF GOOD LUCK 
 
 already, you had better impart it to Mr. Trevor, who 
 must be dying of curiosity. I will go upstairs again 
 and join the old ladies." 
 
 Of course she was not allowed to do that. She 
 was made to sit down and talk until Mrs. Mansfield 
 sent a servant in search of her, and during the 
 ensuing ten minutes she recovered her equanimity 
 sufficiently for all needful purposes, so far as Dolly 
 was concerned. But Horace, much aggrieved at 
 having been spoken of as " Mr. Trevor," had effected 
 his escape without so much as shaking hands, and 
 what added not a little to Veronica's vexation was 
 that she should have shown in so unequivocal a 
 fashion how displeased she was with him. What 
 right in the world had she to be displeased with 
 him ? Why should he not smoke cigarettes and 
 listen to highly-flavoured stories in the company of 
 one whose tastes were in harmony with his own, 
 and who, it was to be hoped, would some da}^ bear 
 his name ? "I could not have behaved more like an 
 utter idiot if I had been jealous of the girl ! And 
 no doubt he thought I was," reflected Veronica furi- 
 ously, as she sat beside her aunt in the carriage and 
 endeavoured to preserve an aspect of unruffled calm. 
 
 She did not mention that she had seen Horace,
 
 ENOUGH OF IT 165 
 
 not wishing to be questioned upon the subject, nor 
 did Mrs. Mansfield ask her whom she had met 
 downstairs. It was rather a relief to be gently 
 remonstrated with for having quitted the drawing- 
 room so abruptly and to be told that Lady Louisa 
 had thought it odd of her. 
 
 " It is best not to be odd," Mrs. Mansfield said ; 
 " people notice it, and they don't like it. In Dolly 
 Cradock's case it doesn't perhaps matter ; she has 
 chosen to take up the line of being eccentric, and 
 if she marries at all, I suppose she will marry some- 
 body who likes that sort of thing. But you, my 
 dear, are a very different kind of person, I am 
 thankful to say, and you do yourself harm when 
 you disregard the conventionalities." 
 
 This mild lecture, which was prolonged, with 
 occasional breaks, until South Audley Street was 
 reached, engrossed Veronica's attention just enough 
 to keep the tears out of her eyes, and a letter, 
 addressed in a straggling, schoolboy hand, which 
 she found on her entrance, served the same desir- 
 able purpose. It was delightful to hear from Joe 
 again, and still more delightful to learn, after the 
 envelope had been torn open, that he was at home 
 for a holiday.
 
 i66 A VICTIM OF GOOD LUCK 
 
 " The man with whom I have been Hving in 
 Lincolnshire has got a couple of children down 
 with the measles," Joe wrote, " so I have been 
 packed off, lest my precious life should be endan- 
 gered. I am having a fairly good time of it at the 
 old place, but it isn't a bit like home without you. 
 Why don't you run down for a little and refresh 
 yourself with a dose of rustic simplicity, like Virgil 
 and Horace and other great poets, including the 
 melodious Mostyn, who tells us that you are not 
 yet wedded to town life ? As I have often assured 
 you, my dear, you would be wedded to me, if only 
 I were a year or two older, and, after all, I don't 
 know why we should let a mere question of age 
 stand in our way. Think it over before you com- 
 mit yourself to some other Johnny of less unim- 
 peachable character. Anyhow, return for a time 
 to your faithful and disconsolate — Joe. 
 
 " P.S. — I am walking a foxhound puppy — a per- 
 fect beauty. It would be well worth your while to 
 come down here, if only to see him." 
 
 "I will!" exclaimed Veronica, who had perused 
 the above epistle in the seclusion of her bedroom. 
 " I know they will be glad to have me, and I shall 
 be more than glad to get away from this."
 
 ENOUGH OF IT 167 
 
 Without more ado she marched downstairs and 
 announced her intention of returning to Harbury 
 Vale forthwith. " I want a change," she informed 
 her astonished aunt ; " all my business transactions 
 with Mr. Walton have been brought to an end long 
 ago, and it doesn't seem to be necessary that I 
 should enter into possession of Broxham yet awhile. 
 So I have made up my mind to forget for six weeks 
 or a couple of months that I am a squiress, \vith 
 all sorts of disagreeable responsibilities upon my 
 shoulders. You can remind me of them when we 
 meet again, later in the year." 
 
 Mrs. Mansfield could elicit nothing further than 
 that from her ; she had seen enough of London for 
 the present ; she wanted to go back to the country, 
 and to the country she meant to go. It was all 
 very well to say that in days gone by young people 
 did not take up so peremptory a tone, and to point 
 out that it is scarcely respectful to a duly consti- 
 tuted duenna to form plans without even consulting 
 her. But what, after all, is to be done with a lady 
 who is of age, who is her own mistress and who 
 proposes to take her own way ? Veronica was con- 
 ciliatory, grateful and affectionate, but firm : there 
 was evidently nothing for it but to let her go, to be
 
 1 68 A VICTIM OF GOOD LUCK 
 
 thankful for her assurance that she looked forward 
 to welcoming Horace to his old home in Septem- 
 ber and to congratulate one's self upon being free to 
 resume the course of one's own quiet, comfortable 
 little existence during the summer months. 
 
 *' I must say that you are very upsetting," Mrs. 
 Mansfield felt it due to herself to remark. " Still, 
 I suppose Mr. and Mrs. Dimsdale may be trusted 
 to take care of you until the autumn, and, as I shall 
 not be wanted, I think I will go to Marienbad and 
 Switzerland." And to herself she added : " It will 
 do Horace no harm to be show^n that he isn't indis- 
 pensable. Perhaps, too, it is just as well, upon the 
 whole, that the engagement should not appear to 
 have been brought about with too much precipi- 
 tation. Of course her going off in a- hurry like this 
 only means that they have had another small 
 squabble."
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 HORACE CUTS A POOR FIGURE. 
 
 Horace Trevor, as he walked away from Lady 
 Louisa Cradock's after that unlucky encounter 
 with Veronica, was a seriously mortified young 
 man. He could imagine so well what Veronica 
 must be thinking of him ! In fact, she had shown 
 pretty plainly w^hat she thought by taking no direct 
 notice of him,, and by her disdainful remark that 
 he was probably eager to be regaled with the con- 
 clusion of a scandalous anecdote. And really he 
 had done nothing to merit her displeasure or con- 
 tempt ; on the contrary, he had, as it seemed to 
 him, behaved as an honourable man from first to 
 last. He had not wanted to fall in love with her ; 
 he had done what in him lay to conceal from her the 
 fact that that misfortune had befallen him ; he had 
 agreed with her that the subject should be ignored
 
 I70 A VICTIM OF GOOD LUCK 
 
 between them thenceforth and for ever. Why was 
 he to be scorned instead of pitied ? Certainly he 
 could have wished that she had not found him 
 smoking and laughing in Dolly Cradock's sanctum, 
 and he had been aware of not looking particularly 
 like a disconsolate lover at the moment ; but she 
 did not want him to look like a disconsolate lover, 
 he supposed. At least if she did, it was rather 
 unreasonable of her. 
 
 All this Horace said to himself with a view to 
 recovering the cheerful countenance of which he 
 had been deprived ; but it did not help him very 
 much towards that desirable end. Of course, he 
 had a right to choose his own company and amuse 
 himself in his own way ; but the distressing part 
 of it was that Veronica had for some time been 
 striving to inoculate him with a taste for better 
 company and more refined amusements, that he 
 had shown himself an apt disciple, and that he had 
 reverted to former habits immediately on discover- 
 ing that she had no notion of ever being anything 
 more than his friend. Naturally, her conclusion 
 would be that he had been deceiving her all along. 
 At the same time, it was too bad of her to have 
 jumped to such erroneous conclusions, however
 
 HORACE CUTS A POOR FIGURE 171 
 
 natural they might be. Thus the downcast cogi- 
 tator wandered from one cause of complaint to 
 another ; and the upshot of them all was that he 
 was a confoundedly unlucky fellow, that he wished 
 to goodness that he had never set eyes on Veronica 
 Dimsdale and that he would go out to Colorado, 
 or whatever the name of the beastly place was, and 
 be a cowboy — hanged if he wouldn't ! 
 
 In this very fractious mood he remained for 
 several days, during which he took care to see no 
 friends, save those of his own sex, and was far from 
 civil even to them. But it was difficult to be surly 
 with Lord Chippenham, who hailed him, one after- 
 noon, in Pall Mall, and for whom an ex-cavalry 
 lieutenant could not help retaining a respect akin to 
 that which schoolboys who have grown bald or gray- 
 headed always feel for a former head-master. So 
 when the General hooked him by the arm, saying, 
 " Walk down with me as far as Westminster, my 
 boy ; I've got to go and record my vote against that 
 crew of Radical wiseacres that calls itself a Govern- 
 ment," there was nothing for it but to comply with 
 a good grace, although what was coming might be 
 guessed in advance. Lord Chippenham led his 
 captive past the Duke of York's column and down
 
 172 A VICTIM OF GOOD LUCK 
 
 the steps into the Mall, discoursing upon the 
 defenceless state of these islands, and then attacked 
 a question of more pressing personal interest. 
 
 " I don't see the good of shilly-shallying," he 
 declared, " and I tell you plainly, my dear fellow, 
 that to my mind you are behaving almost as much 
 like an ass as the Prime Minister. Julia Mansfield 
 may say what she likes, but when a thing has to be 
 done, the sooner it's done the better ; who knows 
 what may happen while you stand shivering on the 
 brink ? Why haven't you proposed to that girl 
 yet, eh ?" 
 
 *' Well, I don't know that it is one of the things 
 that have got to be done," answered Horace ; " in 
 point of fact, I should say that it was one of the 
 things which are precious unlikely to be done." 
 
 " Don't talk such nonsense ! Haven't I been 
 watching you both for weeks ? — and was I born 
 yesterday ? It's very evident to me that you have 
 fallen in love with the girl — and a devilish sensible 
 thing to do too ! Now, how long do you imagine 
 that you will be allowed to go on dancing attendance 
 upon her without speaking out ? How long " 
 
 " But I'm not dancing attendance upon her," 
 interrupted Horace.
 
 HORACE CUTS A POOR FIGURE 173 
 
 " You have been, anyhow ; you won't deny that, I 
 suppose. There's such a thing as letting one's 
 opportunity sHp, and there are plenty of men who 
 ask nothing better than to take your place, let me 
 tell you, young fellow. Come, now ! Be a man or 
 a mouse. What are you afraid of? If you have 
 taken it into your head that she is likely to refuse you, 
 you have taken an uncommonly silly notion into your 
 head ; I don't mind saying as much as that to you." 
 
 Horace thought for a moment of mentioning the 
 reasons which must always render it impossible 
 for him to offer marriage to the heiress of the late 
 Mr. Trevor, but he decided to spare himself the 
 nuisance of an unprofitable discussion, and only 
 remarked that he was not so cocksure of success as 
 all that. 
 
 " Well, hang it all, man ! you can but try," re- 
 turned Lord Chippenham. " If you fail, you will 
 fail, and there will be no more to be said ; but I 
 shall have a poor opinion of you if you let Miss 
 Veronica leave London without having had the 
 chance of saying whether she wishes to accept you 
 or not." 
 
 All the rest of the way to the House of Lords he 
 enlarged upon the folly of quarrelling with your
 
 174 A VICTIM OF GOOD LUCK 
 
 bread and butter in a style most exasperating to his 
 hearer, who at length exclaimed — 
 
 "Very well, then! If I propose and get my 
 answer — which will be No — perhaps you and Aunt 
 Julia won't bother me any more about the matter." 
 
 He really did, in his wrath and irritation, intend 
 to carry out that crazy project. After all, why not ? 
 Veronica already knew all that there was to know 
 and already despised him. The mere fact of having 
 to repeat what she had said before, in answer to a 
 formal proposition which had not been made before, 
 would hardly trouble her, while it would free him 
 from the importunities of officious relatives. More- 
 over, he was in one of those naughty tempers which 
 make us childishly anxious to seek the deepest 
 depths of humiliation. *' You despise me, do you?" 
 he was saying to himself, in effect. " All right, then, 
 you shall have something to despise me for." 
 
 Off he went, therefore, to South Audley Street, 
 with a quick, resolute step, and although his heart 
 may have sunk a little as he ascended the well-known 
 staircase in the wake of the butler, he promised 
 himself that he would not leave the house before he 
 should have received the slap in the face which he 
 courted.
 
 HORACE curs A POOR FIGURE 175 
 
 "This," remarked Mrs. Mansfield, rising and hold- 
 ing out her hand to him, " is a kindly act which I 
 scarcely ventured to hope for. I had made up my 
 mind that I should see no more of you now that 
 Veronica has left me." 
 
 " Veronica left you !" ejaculated the young man ; 
 " you don't mean to say so ! Has she gone for good 
 then?" 
 
 " Well, she doesn't return to me until the autumn, 
 Avhen I am to chaperon her at Broxham, I believe. 
 For the present she has gone to her uncle and aunt 
 at Harbur}^ Vale. I thought you knew." 
 
 " No," answered Horace slowly, as he dropped 
 into a chair, "this is the first I have heard of it. 
 Wasn't it rather a sudden move on her part ?" 
 
 " Yes, rather; but she is a sudden sort of person. 
 I dare say you may have noticed that." 
 
 Horace made no rejoinder. His sensation was in 
 reality one of immense relief, but he looked suffi- 
 ciently dismayed to satisfy Mrs. Mansfield, who took 
 a malicious pleasure in his apparent consternation. 
 She judged it appropriate to remark : " Veronica has 
 an old head upon young shoulders ; it hasn't been 
 in the least turned by her change of fortune or by 
 the admiration of which, as you know, she has had a
 
 176 A VICTIM OF GOOD LUCK 
 
 good deal. Or, perhaps, you don't know, for we 
 have seen so Httle of you lately. Next season, when 
 she will be out of mourning and will have grown 
 accustomed to her position, no doubt she will have 
 an even larger selection of suitors to choose from. I 
 shouldn't be at all surprised if she has left London 
 now just because she is not quite prepared to make 
 her choice yet." 
 
 " Ah ! very likely," said Horace abstractedly. 
 
 He was wondering within himself what Veronica's 
 real reason could have been for vanishing away 
 without a word of farewell. He did not flatter him- 
 self that she cared enough for his friendship to have 
 gone off in a huff; yet she would surely have wished 
 him good-bye if she had not meant him to under- 
 stand that he was in her black books. 
 
 " I wonder at her not having told you she was 
 going. I supposed that she had at least written you 
 a note," Mrs. Mansfield remarked placidly. " You 
 have been such good friends all along, in spite of her 
 having, in a sense, robbed you ; and it has been such 
 a pleasure to me to see your intimacy." 
 
 " She has not robbed me in any sense whatever," 
 returned Horace, a little tartly. " As for friendship, 
 well, as you told me at the first, of course she isn't
 
 HORACE CUTS A POOR FIGURE 177 
 
 at all my style, and we were hardly likely to develop 
 into bosom friends when it came to be a question of 
 intimacy. Not that I don't like her very much, and 
 I am sorry that it will be another twelve months 
 before I see her again — that is, if I am still in Eng- 
 land twelve months hence." 
 
 " My dear boy !" exclaimed Mrs. Mansfield, rather 
 alarmed by this veiled threat, " what are you talking 
 about ? You surely don't contemplate emigrating or 
 doing anything insane of that sort ! And you will 
 certainly see Veronica again in September. She 
 counts upon you to come to Broxham for the 
 partridge-shooting, and so do I. I should never 
 forgive you if you were to leave us in the lurch. Just 
 think of it ! Shooting-parties there must be ; and 
 how are two helpless women to make them go off 
 without assistance ?" 
 
 Horace laughed. ** Look here, Aunt Julia," said 
 he ; "I know perfectly well what you are driving at, 
 and I have known it ever since you began to play 
 the game. In fact, I may as well tell you that I was 
 sent here by the General this afternoon for the 
 express purpose of proposing to Veronica. She 
 would have refused me, of course, and I thought 
 that, after that, you and he would leave us in peace. 
 
 VOL. I. 12
 
 178 A VICTIM OF GOOD LUCK 
 
 Now, I do want you to understand quite clearly that 
 she would never, under any circumstances, consent 
 to marry me. Unless that much is understood I 
 would rather be shot myself than help your friends 
 to shoot the Broxham partridges. Will you take 
 my word for it that the match is out of the ques- 
 tion ?" 
 
 Mrs. Mansfield was by no means a stupid woman, 
 but she was scarcely clever enough to feel certain of 
 the response which she was expected to make to this 
 appeal. What she thought it, upon the whole, best 
 to say (in view of the paramount importance of 
 securing her nephew's presence at Broxham in the 
 autumn) was : " Horace, I will be honest with you. 
 I did very much wish and hope that Veronica might 
 take a fancy to you : you must admit that it would 
 have been a most fortunate thing on all grounds if 
 she had. Still, as you are so sure that it can't be, I 
 won't worry you any more about it — and, indeed, I 
 have always been afraid that you were not quite 
 intellectual enough to please her. Never mind ! 
 What can't be cured must be endured. Come to 
 Broxham as her friend — or rather as her cousin — 
 and I can promise you, on her behalf, that you shall 
 have the warmest of welcomes."
 
 HORACE CUTS A POOR FIGURE 179 
 
 Nothing could well have been more satisfactory 
 than the young man's reply. He said he should be 
 glad to be welcomed on those terms. He added 
 that, knowing the place so well, he might probably 
 be of some use to Veronica and her guests, and he 
 looked as crestfallen as his aunt could have washed. 
 Nevertheless, from Mrs. Mansfield's point of view, 
 there had been some lack of prudence in taking him 
 so promptly at his word. Had his sentiments been 
 those which were not unnaturally imputed to him, a 
 snub would doubtless have served its purpose ; but 
 since he had not the faintest intention of ever asking 
 the heiress to be his wife, that allusion to his intel- 
 lectual inferiority was a little unfortunate. It caused 
 him to say to himself, when he left South Audley 
 Street, after promising to keep himself free from 
 engagements until a date for his visit to Broxham 
 could be fixed, that he had been a perfect fool to 
 imagine that even friendship between him and the 
 superior Veronica was a possible thing; it caused 
 him to suspect that she must have laughed at his 
 innocent endeavours to educate himself up to her 
 level and to resolve that there should be no renewal 
 of such endeavours. It likewise caused him to 
 reflect that in friendship as well as in love there
 
 i8o A VICTIM OF GOOD LUCK 
 
 must be some sort of equality between the parties 
 and that the Dolly Cradocks of this world were 
 much more in his line than the Veronica Dimsdales. 
 If Dolly had had a thousand a year of her own the 
 chances are that he would have proceeded straight- 
 way to place his hand and heart at her disposal, 
 by way of proving his sense of the general fitness 
 of things. 
 
 Dolly having nothing of her own, and having 
 never made any secret of the fact that her future 
 husband must be a wealthy man, he was preserved 
 from doing anything quite so silly as that ; but he 
 solaced himself by frequenting resorts where he 
 was pretty sure of meeting her, and he was down- 
 right sentimental in the language which he em- 
 ployed when — as not unfrequently happened — he 
 and she were left to say to one another what 
 nobody else could overhear. Now, Dolly, whatever 
 may have been her failings, was assuredly not a 
 sentimental person ; she fully recognised that there 
 is all the difference in the world between the poetry 
 of love and the prose of matrimony, and although 
 Horace Trevor, with the Broxham estate and 
 ^100,000 or so invested in safe securities, would 
 have suited her well enough, she had no more
 
 HORACE CUTS A POOR FIGURE i8i 
 
 notion of espousing the actual Horace than of 
 taking a flying leap from the parapet of West- 
 minster Bridge. Yet it is not necessary to have a 
 hard heart because one is blessed with a clear, sane 
 understanding, nor was there any reason at all why 
 the young man's quasi-amorous speeches should not 
 sound very pleasantly in her ears. She believed 
 that he was genuinely in love with her, which is 
 always an agreeable sort of belief to entertain and 
 was in her case justified by the circumstance that 
 a great many other impecunious young men were, 
 or professed to be, in the same sad predicament. 
 Moreover, he had as good as told her that he was. 
 
 Thus it came to pass, after a time, that the soft 
 influences of a moonlight night — supplemented, it 
 may be, by those of a good dinner and excellent 
 champagne — brought about a scene between this 
 pair which had better not have taken place. They 
 had been dining with a large party at one of those 
 river-side club-houses which have sprung up of late 
 years, and the gardens of which may have witnessed 
 more than one scene equally undesirable from the 
 subsequent point of view of the persons concerned 
 therein ; they had wandered away from their 
 friends, they were contemplating the broad, silent
 
 i82 A VICTIM OF GOOD LUCK 
 
 stream, and they had been lamenting, as it was 
 extremely natural to do, that following up the bright 
 track shed upon it by the full moon would never 
 lead them to the traditional pot of gold of which 
 they both stood so much in need. 
 
 " What would you do with it if you got it ?" 
 Dolly asked. " I don't mean a wretched little 
 pipkin, containing twenty spade-guineas, or any- 
 thing of that sort, but a good solid fortune of, say, 
 half a million ?" 
 
 " I should give it to you," answered Hcwrace, with- 
 out hesitation. 
 
 *' What, unconditionally? I don't for one mo- 
 ment believe that you would ; but I can assure you 
 that, if you did, you would never see a single penny 
 of it back again." 
 
 " Oh, well, there would be conditions attached to 
 the gift, of course — one condition, at least. You 
 would have to take me with it." 
 
 Dolly Cradock was really an extremely handsome 
 girl, and just then she was looking her very best. 
 At the moment he spoke he was almost, if not 
 quite, sincere. 
 
 " Ah," she answered, with a touch of bitterness, 
 *' that is a mere detail. Everybody who knows me
 
 HORACE CUTS A POOR FIGURE 183 
 
 knows that I should take a hunchback or a cripple 
 who had half a million of money to offer me. 
 Beggars mustn't be choosers." 
 
 " But supposing that you weren't a beggar, and 
 supposing that you could choose ?" Horace asked, 
 drawing a little nearer to her. 
 
 *' That's quite another question ; I don't see why 
 I should answer it." 
 
 " I don't see why you shouldn't ; we are quite 
 alone, and I am not very likely to repeat anything 
 you may tell me, Dolly." 
 
 " Not to the blameless Veronica ?" 
 
 " Why to her, of all people in the world ?" 
 
 " Only because, a few weeks ago, you were 
 thinking seriously of marrying her, and because in 
 all probability you will be thinking of it seriously 
 again a few weeks hence." 
 
 " I never thought, seriously or otherwise, of doing 
 any such thing !" Horace declared indignantly. 
 
 *' Oh, yes, you did ; / don't blame you. As I 
 said just now, beggars mustn't be choosers, and I 
 myself am bound to be as mercenary as you. As a 
 rule, I feel tolerably resigned to my fate— and so do 
 you, I suspect," added Dolly, with a half-smothered 
 sigh.
 
 1 84 A VICTIM OF GOOD LUCK 
 
 Is it necessary to record what happened next ? 
 Eavesdropping is an ignoble occupation, and if it 
 be our ill-fortune to surprise any two of our 
 acquaintances in a compromising attitude, we 
 instinctively turn and flee. Everything leads the 
 present narrator to believe that Miss Dolly Cradock 
 had been kissed by gentlemen who had no sort of 
 excuse for thus saluting her before that evening 
 when Horace Trevor was betrayed into saying 
 things which he did not really mean, and it may 
 be safely assumed that her indiscretions weighed 
 lightly upon her conscience ; but there is no need 
 to dwell upon an episode in which the hero of this 
 story cuts a poor figure, and we may pass on to the 
 words of unexceptionable wisdom with which the 
 interview was brought to a close. 
 
 " Now we won't play the fool any more," Dolly 
 said briskly; '* I'm sorry for you, and perhaps a 
 little bit sorry for myself too ; but we shall both of 
 us be all right again in a day or two, if not sooner. 
 This has been merely a pretty little intermezzo, if 
 you please ; it is not to have any consequences, and 
 it is to be forgotten with all possible despatch. Go 
 and see whether they aren't putting the horses in." 
 
 Horace had been saying things which he did not
 
 HORACE CUTS A POOR FIGURE 185 
 
 mean ; but Dolly, to do her justice, seldom erred 
 in that way. Shortly afterwards she took her place 
 upon the box-seat of the drag which was to convey 
 them back to London and was driven by an elderly 
 widower of large means, to whom she made herself 
 most agreeable. Horace listened to her wonder- 
 ingly, while tardy repentance and shame gained the 
 mastery over him. Put it how he would, he could 
 not but feel that he had disgraced himself. He 
 did not love Dolly ; he did not in his heart believe 
 that she cared a brass farthing for him ; and 
 although Veronica would never know that he had 
 been false to her, and would also not care a brass 
 farthing if she did, the fact that he had been false 
 remained. " It's time for me to be off," was his 
 conclusion. " I really can't look that girl in the 
 face again to-morrow, as if nothing had happened, 
 though I expect she will be able to keep her coun- 
 tenance easily enough. I shall go to Ireland and 
 fish."
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 THE NEW ORDER OF THINGS. 
 
 ** At the present moment," remarked Veronica 
 lazily, " I am perfectly happy, comfortable and con- 
 tented. I wonder how many other people there are 
 now in this countr}' who could say the same thing — 
 or would, if they could 1" 
 
 " The population of the United Kingdom is, I 
 believe, thirty-eight millions odd," answered Joe. 
 *' Probably we shall be making a liberal allowance if 
 we estimate that twenty persons out of the lot are as 
 highly blessed as you are and have the decency to 
 acknowledge it. Sorry I can't include my own name 
 in the select band, but a proxime accessit is as much 
 as I feel justified in allowing myself. I want but 
 little here below, only I want just a little bit more 
 than I have got." 
 
 The boat in which they w^ere seated lay motionless
 
 THE NEW ORDER OF THINGS 187 
 
 and half hidden by tall rushes in a quiet backwater 
 of the river ; overhead the August sun was blazing 
 out of a cloudless sky. Veronica, reclining beneath 
 a white sunshade upon a pile of cushions, was 
 enjoying that delight in mere existence and absolute 
 idleness which is so seldom granted to us northern 
 islanders, while her cousin, clad in flannels, with his 
 sleeves rolled up and his elbows upon his knees, was 
 placidly smoking the short pipe which was rather 
 more often between his lips than it ought to have 
 been at his age. 
 
 Veronica laughed. " What makes you such a 
 thoroughly satisfactory companion, Joseph," said 
 she, " is that you are so unsophisticated. Now, if 
 you had been mixing in good society ever since the 
 spring, as I have, you would have felt it simply 
 imperative upon you to swear that the actual situa- 
 tion was a sort of foretaste of Paradise." 
 
 " Do you suppose that anything would make me 
 talk such rot as that to you ?'' asked Joe disgustedly. 
 ** If you want to be flattered and humbugged you 
 had better send for some of your smart London 
 friends, or telegraph for old Mostyn, who always has 
 a large surplus stock of sugary speeches on hand. 
 From me, my beloved Veronica, you will never hear
 
 i88 A VICTIM OF GOOD LUCK 
 
 anything but the truth ; and the truth is that I 
 am jolly glad to be sitting here and talking to you 
 again." 
 
 " Well, didn't I tell you that you were satisfac- 
 tory ? Only I wish you hadn't said that you wanted 
 more than you had got, because that reminds me of 
 the quantity of things which I want and am not at 
 all likely to get — and my object was to put them out 
 of mind for the time being." 
 
 Joe shook his head. " I fear, Veronica," said he, 
 " that you did not profit as you might have done by 
 last Sunday's discourse. In all my experience I 
 have never met with anyone who preached the duty 
 of taking things easy more persistently than the 
 rector of this parish, and I may add that I have 
 seldom met anyone who practised it less. How- 
 ever, that is neither here nor there. What are all 
 these things that you want so badly, if one may 
 ask?" 
 
 " Perhaps I ought rather to have said that there 
 are things of which I want to get rid," answered 
 Veronica ; " but never mind. I am rid of them 
 temporarily, at all events." 
 
 ** Now, look here, my dear girl," said Joe impres- 
 sively, " don't you go ridding yourself of your landed
 
 THE NEW ORDER OF THINGS 189 
 
 estates, whatever you do. Think of others. Think 
 of me, for example, and of the bitter disappointment 
 that it would be to me to be debarred from shooting 
 your coverts when the time comes. I have nothing 
 to say against a compromise, mind you ; I have told 
 you, ever since you came back and I heard your 
 account of that chap Trevor, that in my opinion you 
 couldn't bestow your affections more worthily than 
 upon him. Then you would feel that you had 
 behaved handsomely, the property would be his as 
 well as yours and everybody would be pleased. 
 Because I don't think so meanly of you as to imagine 
 that you would ever consent to become his wife 
 without stipulating that I should be invited to Brox- 
 ham whenever there was a big shoot on." 
 
 This time Veronica did not laugh. " Unfortu- 
 nately, that compromise is out of the question," 
 she said ; " Horace Trevor and I are quite of one 
 mind as to the impossibility of it." 
 
 ** Oh, you have talked it over together, then ?" 
 ** Yes, we talked it over, and we agreed that our 
 mutual liking was not of the kind that could be 
 made to do. Besides, there are other obstacles. 
 I don't know how I am to manage matters so as to 
 do the best that I can for you all, and you have
 
 190 A VICTIM OF GOOD LUCK 
 
 completely destroyed my comfort by introducing 
 the horrid subject. Pull me down stream again 
 and let us talk about something else — foxes or 
 badgers, or what you please. Wasn't it to the 
 badgers' earths that you and Nipper went off before 
 breakfast this morning ?" 
 
 Joe had plenty to say upon that engrossing topic, 
 and was quite willing to comply with Veronica's 
 request. He never forced her confidences, being 
 well aware that she generally ended by telling him 
 almost everything, and having a much more real 
 sympathy with her perplexities than his speech 
 betrayed. She, on her side, knew that she could 
 rely upon his comprehension and sympathy, but 
 she also knew that Joe had too much common- 
 sense to approve of her despoiling herself of her 
 inheritance in favour of Dolly Cradock, and that 
 was why she had not mentioned Dolly's name to 
 him. Indeed, as she had avowed, her one great 
 wish was to forget for a while the complex burdens 
 which had come upon her together with what every- 
 body still persisted in calling her extraordinary good 
 luck. She would have to take them up again soon ; 
 during those few weeks of summer she desired to 
 ignore them and to revert to the old days when
 
 THE NEW ORDER OF THINGS 191 
 
 she had been less envied and a good deal less 
 unenviable. 
 
 But to put the clock back is a feat which has 
 never yet been accomplished by man or woman 
 with any perceptible effect upon the passage of 
 time, and although Veronica tried very hard to per- 
 suade herself that she was unchanged, her uncle 
 and aunt were always at hand to point out to her 
 what a fallacy that was. They were kindness itself 
 to her, those good people, and they had also — after 
 some protest — allowed her to be kind to them in a 
 pecuniary sense, which was a comfort so far as it 
 went. But it would have been worse than useless 
 even to hint in their hearing at her fixed determina- 
 tion to resign the estate which had been bequeathed 
 to her, and it was always rather a sore point with 
 Veronica that they were willing to acquiesce with 
 such alacrity in her departure from the home of 
 her childhood. 
 
 " Well, you see, my dear," Mrs. Dimsdale said, 
 in answer to some tentative reproaches which were 
 addressed to her on that score, *' it is very much 
 the same thing as if you were going to be married, 
 and naturally I have always hoped that you would 
 marry. I am sure I have felt it as a horrid wrench
 
 192 A VICTIM OF GOOD LUCK 
 
 when our own girls have left us ; still, one knows 
 that it is what Providence intended them to do and 
 that children can't be children for ever. One thinks 
 of their happiness, not of one's own." 
 
 " Only the difference between them and me is 
 that I am not going to be married," objected 
 Veronica. 
 
 " Oh, you are going to be married," returned her 
 aunt, laughing. " Perhaps, if you were to make a 
 point of it, I could even tell you the name of the 
 man whom you are going to marry." 
 
 That closed Veronica's lips and the conversation. 
 The unanimity with which all who took an interest 
 in her had decided that it was her manifest destin}^ 
 to become Mrs. Horace Trevor almost made her 
 wish that Horace himself was less obstinately recal- 
 citrant. The only dissentient voice had been that 
 of Mr. Mostyn, and the moral support of Mr. 
 Mostyn was not just then available, the poet having 
 crossed the Channel to refresh himself by commun- 
 ings with French men of letters, among whom he 
 was highly esteemed. Harbury Vale, therefore, 
 was not what it had been in days of yore, nor could 
 all the making-believe in the world render it so ; 
 and when Joe left for Lincolnshire, in order to
 
 THE NEW ORDER OF THINGS 193 
 
 obtain practical experience of harvesting operations, 
 Veronica was not disinclined to bring her own 
 holiday to an end. 
 
 It turned out, however, that her new home could 
 not be prepared for her reception at quite so early 
 a date as had been anticipated. Mrs. Mansfield, 
 who was alreadv at Broxham, and who had most 
 kindly undertaken the management of all necessary 
 details, wrote to say that there was still a great deal 
 to be done, and that the partridges would have to 
 remain unmolested, she feared, until the end of 
 September. '* Of course, I shall be delighted to 
 have you with me, dear, if you care to come at 
 once ; but I am afraid it would be dreadfully dull 
 for you, because we can't ask people to stay until 
 the bed-rooms have been made tidy. Poor dear 
 Samuel lived so much alone latterlv, and I have 
 been obliged to dismiss the housekeeper, who had 
 become so rude and independent that I am sure 
 you would never have been able to stand her. As 
 for Horace, he has had an invitation to a Scotch 
 deer-forest, which he says he could not resist ; but 
 he promises to be with us for the first of the covert- 
 shooting. So please do as you like about coming 
 here ; only don't think yourself bound to lend me 
 
 VOL. I. 13
 
 194 A VICTIM OF GOOD LUCK 
 
 a hand, for, troublesome as it is, I can do very well 
 without help, and I should like you to have a more 
 pleasant first impression of the place than you 
 would get if you were to see it in its present dis- 
 mantled condition." 
 
 Veronica rightly interpreted this as meaning 
 that Mrs. Mansfield was revelling in the choice of 
 upholstery and did not wish to be interfered with. 
 Accordingly, she remained where she was, being 
 made heartily welcome to do so, although her aunt 
 Elizabeth could not help expressing some surprise 
 at her indifference respecting a very important 
 matter. 
 
 " I really do think I should want to see my 
 own furniture before I bought it — not to speak 
 of engaging my own servants !" the good lady 
 exclaimed. 
 
 But Veronica knew that neither furniture nor 
 servants would be hers for long, and her wish was 
 to shorten as far as might be the prelude to the 
 pre-arranged domestic drama. She had rehearsed 
 it all in advance — Horace's arrival, which must be 
 speedily followed by that of Dolly Cradock ; the 
 opportunities that were to be given them for coming 
 to a mutual understanding, the temporary despond-
 
 THE A'£ir ORDER OF THINGS 195 
 
 ency of the lovers, and then her own more or less 
 graceful retirement. With a little management 
 success ought to be her reward ; but she was 
 impatient to begin, and it would be time enough 
 for her to step upon the stage when the curtain 
 should be ready to rise. 
 
 It was through a curtain of mist and rain that 
 her eyes at length beheld the large and substantial, 
 but not very imposing mansion of which she was 
 the mistress. A solid, stone-coloured house, with 
 a Greek portico and a number of bow windows, 
 encircled by a rather meagre flower-garden, stand- 
 ing in the midst of a level park, where there were 
 some fine trees, and hemmed in on all sides by 
 distant woods — this was what she saw as she was 
 driven rapidly from the station in the carriage 
 which had been sent to meet her on that stormy 
 autumn evening, and she said to herself that she 
 would, at least, be able to resign that residence 
 without a single pang of regret. It was not in the 
 least beautiful, and it did not look like the sort of 
 place to which one could ever become much 
 attached. However, when the carriage drew up 
 at the door, and she was admitted into a spacious, 
 well-lighted hall, where a cheerful wood-fire was
 
 196 A VICTIM OF GOOD LUCK 
 
 blazing, and where busts, tall Oriental vases, 
 Persian rugs and Japanese screens had been 
 arranged in an artistic fashion, she had to admit 
 that Broxham was a good deal more attractive 
 within than without. And the affectionate embrace 
 of Aunt Julia, who came out to greet her, followed 
 by Lord Chippenham, was pleasanter than the 
 respectful, furtive scrutiny of the butler and the 
 footman, who relieved her of her wraps. Perhaps 
 the servants regarded Mrs. Mansfield, who had 
 engaged them, as their mistress, rather than the 
 young lady from v/hom they had been told they 
 were in future to take their orders ; and certainly 
 Mrs. Mansfield appeared to have made herself very 
 much at home, having, as she presently informed 
 Veronica, invited one or two people, besides Lord 
 Chippenham, "just to keep the place warm for 
 you.^' 
 
 " I hope you don't mind, dear," she added. 
 " You won't find any of them at all troublesome to 
 entertain." 
 
 Veronica did not mind in the least ; on the con- 
 trary, she was extremely grateful to her aunt for 
 having so ably replaced her, and she expressed her 
 gratitude while she was being led into a comfortable
 
 THE NEW ORDER OF THINGS 197 
 
 library where half-a-dozen ladies and a couple of 
 young men were grouped round the tea-table. 
 
 *' Oh, I have done nothing," declared Mrs. Mans- 
 field, who nevertheless thought that she deserved 
 some thanks. " I have only got rid of some of 
 poor Samuel's impossible old retainers, who had 
 already been fully provided for in his will and who 
 didn't care to stay. And I have pulled the furniture 
 about and spent a little of your money — that is all. 
 I think you will find everything in tolerably good 
 order, and now that you have come, I am delighted 
 to surrender the reins of government to you." 
 
 But it soon became evident that that surrender 
 would be far from delightful to her ; nor was she 
 called upon to make it, save nominally. Veronica 
 sat at the head of the table and held a long obliga- 
 tory conference with the agent and the bailiff on 
 the following morning ; but it was Mrs. Mansfield 
 who saw the housekeeper after breakfast and drew 
 up the programme for the day. She said : " Perhaps 
 I had better continue to look after things for you 
 until you have shaken down into your place," and 
 she was assured that the longer she was kind 
 enough to do so the better her niece would be 
 pleased.
 
 J98 A VICTIM OF GOOD LUCK 
 
 It is not certain that Veronica, who had clear 
 ideas of the duties belonging to every station of 
 life, would have been equally complaisant had she 
 looked upon herself as being in any real sense the 
 proprietress of the Broxham estate ; but since she 
 meant to turn her back upon it at the earliest pos- 
 sible opportunity she was only too glad to make 
 Aunt Julia happy by self-effacement. Meanwhile, 
 she had a pleasant enough time of it for the next 
 ten days. The house, if not magnificent, was com- 
 fortable and home-like ; there was a charming old 
 walled garden within easy reach of it where one 
 could wander and explore without being thought 
 neglectful of one's guests ; Aunt Julia's friends, of 
 whom several relays arrived and left during the 
 above-mentioned period, were very nice easy-going 
 sort of people, who rose late in the morning, seemed 
 to be satisfied with a drive in the afternoon, and 
 entertained one another. As for the men, they were 
 out shooting all day long ; Lord Chippenham took 
 charge of them pending the advent of Horace, who 
 was expected to make his appearance from Scotland 
 shortly. That Horace, when he came, would act 
 as the de facto master of the establishment was 
 -evidently taken for granted by its inmates, both
 
 THE NEW ORDER OF THINGS 199 
 
 permanent and temporary. Indeed, so far as 
 grooms, gamekeepers, beaters and other outdoor 
 dependents were concerned, he had, it seemed, acted 
 in that capacity for some years past. 
 
 He arrived late one evening, looking very well 
 and sunburnt, and \'eronica noticed at once, with 
 great satisfaction, that he had discarded the embar- 
 rassed and somewhat sullen manner which had pro- 
 voked her during the latter part of her sojourn in 
 London. This she took as a sign that he had now 
 realised the absurdity of the misgivings as to which 
 he had then pleaded guilty, and that he was ready 
 to meet her once more upon the old friendly footing. 
 Such was, in truth, his laudable intention and desire. 
 Months of fresh air and hard exercise had done so 
 much for him that he was able by this time, as he 
 believed, to put a good face upon unalterable facts. 
 Veronica most certainly was not for him ; he had 
 been a deplorable idiot to fall in love with her and 
 a still greater idiot to let her discover his idiocy ; 
 but he had now come to his senses, and he hoped 
 to make it quite clear to her that her friendship was 
 all that he asked. Of Dolly Cradock and the cir- 
 cumstances under which he had parted from her 
 it has to be confessed that he had thought very
 
 2CO A VICTIM OF GOOD LUCK 
 
 little indeed in the course of an enjoyable summer 
 and autumn. It is the destiny of these light-hearted 
 young ladies to be forgotten as readily as they are 
 wont to forget, and had not she herself said that 
 an episode upon which it was not altogether 
 pleasant to look back was to have no consequences ? 
 
 " And what have you been doing all this long 
 time ?" Veronica wanted to know, when he crossed 
 the long drawing-room to seat himself beside her 
 after dinner on the evening of his arrival. 
 
 " Well," he answered, " I expect you would say 
 that I have been doing nothing. I have been 
 yachting a little, and I have been fishing and shoot- 
 ing. That's what you call sheer waste of time, isn't 
 it ?" 
 
 " I don't know ; it just depends upon whether 
 there was any better use for you to make of your 
 time, and I should hardly think that there was. 
 Besides, I have been absolutely idle myself; so that 
 it doesn't become me to condemn my neighbours." 
 
 " I should have thought you would have been as 
 busy as a bee," said Horace, looking admiringly 
 round him. " You have beautified this old barrack 
 •out of all recognition. How do you like the place, 
 BOW that you have taken possession of it ?"
 
 THE ^'E^V ORDER OF THINGS 201 
 
 " Oh, pretty well," answered Veronica, " but the 
 beautifying has been Aunt Julia's work, and of 
 course Broxham can never seem like home to me. I 
 have no associations with it, as you have. You will 
 find any number of humble friends eager to welcome 
 you to-morrow, and I do hope that, in charity to me, 
 you mean to stay a long time. I have already had 
 to promise faithfully that you will hunt from here 
 this season." 
 
 Horace laughed and made a grimace. " I shall 
 have to explain to these good folks that times have 
 changed, I see," said he. " I'll stay a week or two 
 for the covert shooting, if you'll have me ; but as for 
 hunting, that's another affair. To begin with, I 
 haven't anything to ride." 
 
 '^ I was to tell you that every care has been taken 
 of the dun horse and the little bay, and that they 
 are both of them in first-rate condition." 
 
 '' Glad to hear it ; but they are your horses, not 
 mine, remember." 
 
 " That doesn't seem to be the general opinion. 
 Uncle Samuel bought them for you, I am told ; and 
 even if they are legally my property, they are of 
 about as much use to me as a pair of giraffes would 
 be. So please take them away, if you want to take
 
 202 A VICTIM OF GOOD LUCK 
 
 them away, though we shall all feel rather hurt by 
 your choosing to hunt in another country." 
 
 Horace could not afford to hunt in any country ; 
 but he did not want to keep on alluding to his 
 poverty, and, as a matter of fact, the temptation 
 held out to him was a very hard one to resist. 
 Therefore, he only said, after a pause, " But I can't 
 live here, you know, Veronica." 
 
 *' But you can stay here sometimes, as you used 
 to do," she returned. " You have only to substitute 
 me — or rather. Aunt Julia — for Uncle Samuel, and 
 from all that I hear, the change will be a change for 
 the better in some respects." 
 
 Horace did not contradict her. Later, it would 
 no doubt be necessary to explain that he could not 
 accept such unbounded hospitality ; but for the 
 moment he was unwilling to make difficulties. Be- 
 sides, to tell the truth, he did think that it would be 
 rather jolly to have just three or four more days 
 with the old hounds. 
 
 So all this was as satisfactory as possible, and 
 it only remained to summon Dolly Cradock forth- 
 with. 
 
 END OF VOL. I. 
 
 BILLING AND SONS, PRINTERS, GUILDFORD. 
 
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 3 0112 052949614 
 
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