UNIVERSITY OF ILLINOIS LIBRARY AT URBANACHAMPAIGN STACKS The person charging this material is re- sponsible for its return to the library from which It was withdrawn on or before the Latest Date stamped below. Theft, mutilation, ond underlining of books ore reosons for disciplinary action and may result In dismissal from the University. To renew call Telephone Center, 333-8400 UNIVERSITY OF ILLINOIS LIBRARY AT URBANA-CHAMPAIGN APR 8 mi ii(%^ 4 % ^ 'PR 1 6 'iCSo m 1 V MAY 9 DEC 2 net \1^ L161— O-1096 Digitized by the Internet Archive in 2010 with funding from University of Illinois Urbana-Champaign http://www.archive.org/details/cleverwomanoffam01yong 7 C tzJ'/yz^^ ^^^C^ //^^ THE CLEYEE WOMAN OE THE EAMILY. THE CLEVER WOMAN OF THE FAMILY. BY THE AUTHOR OF "THE HEIR OF REDCLYFFE. IN TWO VOLUMES. VOL. I. MACMILLAN AND CO. 1865. LOKDOK : n. CLAY SOK, AND TAYLOR, PRINTERS, BREAD STREET HILl. I re. CONTEI^TS. CHAPTER I. PAGE IN SEARCH OF A MISSION 1 CHAPTER II. RACHEL'S DISCIPLINE 40 CHAPTER III. MACKAPvEL LANE 54 CHAPTER IV. THE HERO 89 CHAPTER Y. MILITARY SOCIETY 1^2 CHAPTER VI. ermine's resolution 12' VI COXTEXTS. CHAPTER VII. PACK WArTINTJ FOR ItOSE l^'-i CHAPTEK VIII. woman's mission DISCOA'ERED 1^2 CHAPTER IX. THE NEW SPORT 217 CHAPTER X. THE PHILANTHROPIST 231 CHAPTER XL LADY temple's TROUBLES 258 CHAPTER XII. A CHANGE AT THE PARSONAGE 274 CHAPTER XIII. THE FOX AND THE CROW 288 CHAPTER XIV. THE GOWANBRAE BALL 303 THE CLEVER WOMAN OF THE FAMILY. CHAPTEE I. IN SEARCH OF A MISSION. ' ' Thou didst refuse the daily round Of useful, patient love, And longedst for some great emprise Thy spu'it high to prove." — C. M. F. " Che mi sedea con I'antica Eachele." — Dante. "It is very kind in the dear mother." " But what, Eachel? Don't you like it 1 She so enjoyed choosing it for you." " Oh yes, it is a perfect tiling in its way. Don't say a word to her ; but if you are consulted for my next birthday present, Grace, couldn't you suggest that one does cease to be a girl." " Only try it on, Eachel dear, she will be pleased to see you in it. ' " Oh yes, I will bedizen myself to oblige her. I do assure you I am not ungrateful. It is beautifid in itself, and shows how well nature can be imitated ; but it is meant for a mere girl, and this is the very day I had fixed for hauling down the flag of youth." " Oh, Eachel." VOL. I. B 2 THE CLEVER WOMAN OF THE FAMILY. " All, lia ! If Eachel be an old maid, "vvhat is Grace ? Come, my dear, resign yourself! There is nothing more unbecoming than .want of perception of the close of young- ladyhood." " Of course I know we are not quite young girls now," said Grace, half perplexed, half annoyed. "Exactly. From this moment we are established as the maiden sisters of Avonmouth, husband and wife to one another, as maiden pairs always are." " Then thus let me crown our bridal," quoth Grace, placing on her sister's head the •wreath of white roses. "Treacherous child! " cried Eachel, putting up her hands and tossiug her head, but her sister held her still. " You know^ brides always take liberties. Please, dear, let it stay till the mother has been in, and pray don't talk before her of being so very old." " ]^o, I'll not be a shock to her. "We will silently assume our imnimiities, and she will acquiesce if they come upon her gradually." Grace looked somewhat alarmed, being perhaps in some dread of immunities, and aware that Eachel's silence woidd in any one else have been talkativeness." "Ah, mother dear, good morning," as a pleasant placid- looking lady entered, dressed in black, with an air of feeble health, but of comely middle age. Eirthday greetings, congratulations, and thanks followed, and the mother looked critically at the position of the wreath, and Eachel for the first time turned to the glass and met a set of features of an irregular, characteristic cast, brow low and broad, nose 7'€f)'ousse, with large, singidarly sensitive nostrils quivering like those of a high-bred horse at any IN SEARCH OF A MISSION. 3 emotion, full pouting lips, round cheeks glowing with the freshest red, eyes widely opened, d ark deep grey and decidedly ^^-t^-^ prominent, though curtained with thick black lashes. The '"^ glossy chestnut hair partook of the redundance and vigour of the whole being, and the roses hung on it gracefully though not in congruity with the thick winter dress of blue and black tartan, still looped up over the dark petticoat and hose, and stout high-heeled boots, that like the grey cloak and felt hat bore witness to the early walk. Grace's countenance and figure were in the same style, though without so much of mark or animation j and her dress was of like description, but less severely plain. "Yes, my dear, it looks very wellj and now you will oblige me by not wearing that black lace thing, that looks fit for your grandmother." " Poor Lovedy Kelland's aunt made it, mother, and it was very expensive, and wouldn't sell." " Xo wonder, I am sure, and it was very kind in you to take it off their hands ; but now it is paid for, it can't make much difference whether you disfigure yourself with it or not." " Oh yes, dear mother, I'll bind my hair when you bid me do it, and really these buds do credit to the makers. I wonder whether they cost them as dear in health as lace does," she added, taking off the flowers and examining them with a grave sad look. " I chose white roses," proceeded the well-pleased mother, " because I thought they would suit either of the silks you have now, though I OAvn I should hke to see you in another white muslin." " I have done vitli white muslin," said'Eachel, rousing b2 4 THE CLEVER WOMAN OF THE FAMILY. from her reverie. " It is an affectation of girlish simplicity not becoming at our age." " Oh Eachel ! " thought Grace in despair ; but to her srreat relief in at that moment filed the five maids, the coachman, and butler; and the mother began to read prayers. Breakfast over, Rachel gathered up her various gifts, and betook herself to a room on the ground floor with all the appliances of an ancient schoolroom. Rather dreamily she took out a number of copy-books, and began to "write copies in them in large text hand. " And this is all I am doing for my fellow-creatures," she muttered half aloud. '' One class of half-gro^vn lads, and those grudged to me ! Here is the world around one mass of misery and evil ! i^ot a paper do I take up but I see some- thing about wretchedness and crime, and here I sit with health, strength, and knowledge, and able to do nothing, nothing — at the risk of breaking my mother's heart ! I have pottered about cottages and taught at schools in the dilettante way of the yoimg lady who thinks it her duty to be charitable ; and I am told that it is my duty, and that I may be satisfied. Satisfied, when I see children cramped in soul, destroyed in body, that fine ladies may wear lace trimmings ! Satisfied mth the blight of the most promising buds ! Satisfied, when I laiow that every alley and lane of town or country reeks with vice and corruption, and that there is one cry for workers with brains and with purses ! And here am I, able and willing, only longing to task myself to the uttermost, yet tethered down to the merest mockery of usefulness by conventionalities. I am a young lady forsooth ! — I must not be out late ; I must not put forth my views ; I IN SEARCH OF A MISSION. 5 I must not choose my acquaintance ; I must "be a mere helpless, useless being, growing old in a ridiculous fiction of prolonged cliildhood, affecting those graces of so-called sweet seventeen that I never had — because, because why 1 Is it for any better reason than because no mother can bear to believe her daughter no longer on the lists for matrimony? Our dear mother does not tell herself that this is the reason, but she is unconsciously actuated by it. 'And I have hitherto given way to her wish. I mean to give way still in a measure ; but I am five and twenty, and I will no longer be withheld from some path of usefulness ! I will judge for myself, and when my mission has declared itself, I will not be withheld from it by any scruple that does not approve itseK to my reason and conscience. If it be only a domestic mission — say the care of Fanny, poor dear helpless Fanny ; I would that I knew she was safe, — I would not despise it, 1 would throw myself into it, and regard the training her and forming her boys as a most sacred office. It would not be too homely for me. But I had far rather become the founder of some establishment that might relieve women from the oppressive task-work thrown on them in all their branches of labour. Oh, what a worthy ambition ! " " Eachel ! " called Grace. " Come, there's a letter, a letter from Fanny herself for you. Make haste, mamma is so nervous till you read it." Ko exhortation was needed to make Eachel hurry to the drawing-room, and tear open the black-edged letter with the Australian stamp. "All is right, mamma. She has been very ill, but is fast recovermg, and was to sail by the Voluta. Why, she may be here any day." Q THE CLEVER WOMAN OF THE FAMILY. " Any day ! j\Iy clear Grace, see that the nurseries are well aired." *' 'No, mother, she says her party is too large, and wants us to take a furnished house for her to come into at once — Myrtlewood if possible. Is it let, Grace 1 " "I think I saw the notice in the window yesterday." " Then, I'll go and see about it at once." "But, my dear, you don't really mean that poor dear Fanny thinks of coming anywhere but to us?" said her mother, anxiously. "It is very considerate of her," said Grace, "with so many little children. You would find them too much for you, dear mother. It is just like Fanny to have thought of it. How many are there, Eachel 1 " " Oh ! I can't tell. They got past my reckoning long ago. I only know they are all boys, and that this baby is a girl." " Baby ! Ah, poor Fanny, I feared that was the reason she did not come sooner. " Yes, and she has been very ill ; she always is, I believe, but there is very little about it. Fanny never could write letters ; she only just says : ' I have not been able to attempt a letter sooner, though my dear little girl is five weeks old to-day. Think of the daughter coming at last, too late for her dear father, who had so wished for one. She is very healthy, I am thankful to say ; and I am now so much better, that the doctor says I may sail next week. !Major Keith has taken our cabins, in the Volufa, and soon after you receive tliis, I lioj^e to be showing you my dear boys. They are such good, affectionate fellows ; but I am afraid they would be too much for my dear aunt, and our party is IN SEARCH OF A MISSION. 7 SO large ; so the Major and I both, think it will be the best way for you to take a house for me for six months. I should like Myrtlewood best, if it is to be had. I have told Con- rade all about it, and how pretty it is ; and it is so near you that I think there I can be happy as ever I can be again in this world, and have your advice for the dear children.' " " Poor darling ! she seems but a cliild herself." " My age — five and twenty," retiu?ned Eachel. " Well, I shall go and ask about the house. Eemember, mother, this influx is to bring no trouble or care, on you; Fanny Temple is my charge from henceforth. My mission has come to seek me," she added, as she quitted the room, in eager excitement of affection, emotion, and importance, for Fanny had been more like a sister than a cousin. Grace and Eachel Curtis were the daughters of the squire of the Homestead; Fanny, of his brother, an officer in the army. Left at home for education, the little girl had spent her life, from her seventh to her sixteenth year, as absolutely one with her cousins, until she was summoned to meet her father at the Cape, under the escort of his old friend. General Sir Stephen Temple. She found Colonel Curtis sinking under fatal disease, and while his relations were jDreparing to receive, almost to maintain, his widow and daughter, they were electrified by the tidings that the gentle little Fanny, at sixteen, had become the wife of Sir Stephen Temple, ^ at sixty. ^ «-5?«^ ^^ c^A^m^v. c^-^ U^^tleof iSv><2^ C^i^>-*^.(. ^ From that time little had been known about her; her ^ mother had continued with her, but the two ]\Irs. Curtises had never been congenial or intimate ; and Fanny was never a full nor willing correspondent, feeling perhaps the difficulty of writing under changed circmnstances. Her husband had 8 THE CLEVER WOMAN OF THE FAMILY. been in various commands in the colonies, without returning to England ; and all that was known of her was a general impression that she had much ill-health and numerous chil- di-en, and was tended like an infant by her bustling mother and doting husband. More than half a year back, tidings had come of the almost sudden death of her mother; and about three months subsequently, one of the officers of Sir Stephen's staff had written to announce that the good old general had been killed by a fall from his horse, while on a round of inspection at a distance from home. The widow was then completely prostrated by the shock, but promised to write as soon as she was able ; and this was the fulfilment of that promise, bringing the assurance that Fanny was coming back with her little ones to the home of her childhood. Of that home, Grace and Eachel were the joint-heiresses, though it w^as owned by the mother for her life. It was an estate of farm and moorland, worth some three or four thousand a year, and the house was perched on a beautifid. promontory, running out into the sea, and inclosing one side of a bay, where a small fishing-\iilage had recently expanded into a quiet watering-place, esteemed by some for its remoteness from railways, and for the calm and simplicity that were yearly diminished by its increasing popidarity. It was the family fashion to look down from their crag at the new esplanade with pity and contempt for the ruined loneliness of the pebbly beach ; and as Mrs. Ciu'tis had not health to go often into societ}^, she had been the more carefid where she trusted her daughters. They belonged to the county by birth and tradition, and were not to be mixed up Avith the fleeting residents of the watering-place, on Avhom they never called, unless by special recommendation from a mutual fi'iend ; and IN SEARCH OF A MISSION. 9 the few permanent inhabitants chanced to be such, that a ■^isit to them was in some degree a condescension. Perhaps there was more of timidity and caution than of pride in the mother's exclusiveness, and Grace had always acquiesced in it as the natural and established state of affairs, without any sense of superiority, but rather of being protected. She had a few alarms as to the results of Eachel's new immunities of age, and though never questioning the wisdom of her clever sister's conclusions, dreaded the effect on the mother, whom she had been forbidden to call mamma. " At their age it was affecting an interesting childishness." Eachel had had the palm of cleverness conceded to her ever since she could recollect, when she read better at three years old than her sister at five, and ever after, through the days of education, had enjoyed, and exceeded in, the studies that were a toil to Grace. Subsequently, while Grace had contented herself with the ordinary course of unambitious feminine life, Eachel had thrown herself into the process of self-education with all her natural energy, and carried on her favourite studies by every means within her reach, until she considerably surpassed in acquirements and reflection aU the persons with whom she came in frequent contact. It was a homely neighbourhood, a society Avell born, but of circum- scribed interests and habits, and little connected with the great progressive world, where, however, Eachel's sympathies all lay, necessarily fed, however, by periodical literature, instead of by conversation or commerce with living minds. She began by being stranded on the ignorance of those Avho surrounded her, and found herself isolated as a sort of pedant ; and as time went on, the narrowness of interests chafed her, and in like maimer left her alone. As she grew 1,0 THE CLEVER WOMAN OF THE FAMILY. past giiiliood, tlie cui bono question had come to interfere with her ardour in study for its own sake, and she felt the influence of an age eminently practical and sifting, hut with small powers of acting. The quiet Lady Bountiful duties that had sufliced her mother and sister were too small and easy to satisfy a soul burning at the report of the great cry- going up to heaven from a world of sin and woe. The examples of successful workers stimulated her longings to be up and doing, and yet the ever difficult question between charitable works and filial deference necessarily detained her, and perhaps all the more because it was not so much the fear of her mother's authority as of her horror and despair, that withheld her from the decisive and eccentric steps that she was always feeling impelled to take. Gentle Mrs. Curtis had never been a visible j)ower in her house, and it was through their desire to avoid paining her that her govern- ment had been exercised over her two daughters ever since their father's death, which had taken place in Grace's seven- teenth year. Both she and Grace implicitly accepted Eachel's superiority as an unquestionable fact, and the mother, when traversing any of her clever daughter's schemes, never dis- puted either her opinions or principles, only entreated that these particular developments might be conceded to her ©"^ii weakness ; and Eachel generally did concede. She could not act ; but she could talk uncontradicted, and she hated herself for the enforced submission to a state of things that she despised. This twenty-fifth birthday had long been anticipated as the turning point when this submissive girlhood ought to close, and the privileges of acting as well as thinking for herself ought to be assumed. Something to do was lior cry, T^ 4 J IN SEARCH OF A MISSION. 11 £ Lj and on this very day that sometliing seemed to be cast in her 5 way. It was not ameliorating the condition of the masses, 6 hut it was educating those who might ameliorate them ; and Eachel gladly hailed the prospect of a vocation that might ^ be conducted without pain to her mother. '^ Young children of her own class were not exactly what , "• her dream of usefulness had devised ; but she had already a ^ decided theory of education, and began to read up with all y^ her might, whilst taking the lead in all the details of house 3 taking, servant hiring, &c. ; to which her regular occupations ^i of night school in the evening and reading to the lacemakers 4 by day, became almost secondary. In due time the arrival ' of the ship was telegraphed, a hurried and affectionate note followed, and, on a bright east-windy afternoon, Eachel Curtis set forth to take up her mission. A telegram had announced the arrival of the Voluta, and the train which would bring the travellers to Avonchester. The Homestead carriage was sent to meet them, and Eachel in it, to give her helpless cousin assistance in this beginning of English habits. A roomy fly had been engaged for nurses and children, and j\Irs. Curtis had put under the coachman's charge a parcel of sandwiches, and instructed him to offer all the appliances for making her own into an invalid carriage. Full of warm tenderness to those who were to be depen- dent on her exertions, led by her good sense, Eachel paced the platform till the engine rushed up, and she looked along the line of windows, suddenly bewildered. Doors opened, but gentlemen alone met her disappointed eye, until close to her a soft voice said, " Eachel ! " and she saw a figiire in deep black close to her; but her hand had been hardly clasped before the face was turned eagerly to a tall, bearded 12 THE CLEVER WOMAN OF THE FAMILY. man, who was lifting out little boy after little boy, apparently in an endless stream, till at last a sleeping baby was brought out in the arms of a nurse. " Good-bye. Thank you, oh, thank you. You "will come soon. Oh, do come on now." " Do come on now," was echoed by many voices. " I leave you in good hands. Good-bye," " Good-bye. Conrade dear, see what C}Til is doing ; never mind, Wilfred, the Major will come and see us ; run on with Coombe." This last was a respectable military- looking servant, who picked up a small child in one hand and a dressing-case in the other, and awaited orders. There was a clinging to the Major by all the children, only ended by liis finally precipitating himself into the carriage, and being borne off. Then came a chorus — " Mamma, let me go ■v\dth you;" "I'll go with mamma ;'' " Me go with mamma ;" according to the gradations of age. "While Coombe and mam in a decided the cpiestion by lift- ing the lesser ones into the fly, Eachel counted heads. Her mission exceeded her expectations. Here was a pair of boys in knickerbockers, a pair in petticoats, a pair in pelisses, besides the thing in arms, '^^"hen the fly had been nearly crammed, the two knickerbockers and one pelisse remained for the carriage, quite against Eachel's opinion ; but " Little Wilfred can sit on my lap, he has not been well, poor little man," w^as quite conclusive ; and when Eachel suggested lying back to rest, there was a sweet, low laugh, and, " Oh, no thank you, Wilfred never tires me." Eachel's first satisfaction was in seeing the veil disclose the face of eight years back ; the same soft, clear, olive^skiii ; delicate, oval face, and pretty deep-brown^yes, with the same IN SEARCH OF A MISSION. 13 imploring, earnest sweetness j no signs of having grown older ; no sign of wear and tear, climate, or exertion ; only the widow's dress and the presence of the great boys enhancing her soft youthfulness. The smile was certainly changed ; it was graver, sadder, tenderer, and only conjured uj) by maternal affection or in grateful reply ; and the blitheness of T"' the young brow had changed tjD guiet j)en^veness, but more i^ than ever there was an air of dependence almost beseeching protection ; and Eachel's heart throbbed with Britomart's devotion to her Amoret. " Why wouldn't the Major come, mamma ?" " He will soon come, I hope, my dear." Those few words gave Eachel a strong antipathy to the Major. Then began a conversation under difficulties, Fanny trying to inquire after her aunt, and Eachel to detail the arrange- ments made for her at Myrtlewood, while the two boys were each accommodated with a window ; but each moment they were claiming their mother's attention, or rushing across the ladies' feet to each other's window, treating Eachel's knees as a pivot, and vouchsafing not the slightest heed to her attempts at intelligent pointing out of the new scenes. And Fanny made no apology, but seemed pleased, ready with answers and with eyes, apparently ignorant that Eachel's toes were less insensible than her own, and her heavy three- years-old Wilfred asleep on her lap all the time. " She feeble, helpless, sickly ! " thought Eachel, " I should have been less tired had I walked tlie twenty miles ! " She gave up talking in despair, and by the time the young gentlemen had tired themselves into quiescence, and began to 14 THE CLEVER WOMAN OF THE FAMILY. eat the provisions, both ladies were glad to be allowed a little silence. Coming over the last hill, Conrade roused at his mother's summons to look out at "home," and every word between them showed how fondly Avonmouth had been remembered far away. " The sea !" said Fanny, leaning forwards to catch sight of the long grey line ; " it is hard to believe we have been on it so long, this seems so much more my own." "Yes," cried Eachel, "you are come to your own home, for us to take care of you." " I take care of mamma ! Major Keith said so," indig- nantly exclaimed Conrade. " There's plenty of care for you both to take," said Fanny, half -smiling, half -sobbing. " The Major says I need not be a poor creature, and I will try. Eut I am afraid I shall be on all your hands." Both boys drummed on her knee in -wrath at her presuming to call herself a poor creature — Conrade glaring at Eachel as if to accuse her of the calumny. " See the church," said Lady Temple, glad to divert the storm, and eagerly looking at the slender spire surmounting the bell-turret of a small building in early-decorated style, new, but somewhat stained by sea-"vvind, ■\\dthout ha\ing as yet acquired the tender tints of time. " How beautiful ! " was her cry. " You Avere beginning the collection for it Avhen I went away ! How Ave used to Avish for it." " Yes, we did," said Eachel, Avitli a significant sigh ; but her cousin had no time to attend, for they Avere turning in a pepper-box lodge. The boys Avere told that they were arrived, and they were at the door of a sort of OA^ergroAvii IN SEARCH OF A MISSION. 15 Swiss cottage, wliere Mrs. Curtis and Grace stood ready to receive them. There was a confusion of embraces, fondlings, and tears, as Fanny clung to the aunt who had been a mother to her — perhaps a more tender one than the ruling, managing spirit, whom she had hardly known in her childhood ; but it was only for a moment, for Wilfred shrieked out in an access of shyness at Grace's attempt to make acquaintance with him • Francis was demanding, " "Where's the orderly 1 " and Conrade looking brimful of wrath at any one who made his mother cry. Moreover, the fly had arrived, and the remainder had to be produced, named, and kissed — Conrade and Francis, Leoline and Hubert, Wilfred and Cyril, and little Stephana the baby. EeaUy the names were a study in themselves, and the cousins felt as if it would be hopeless to endeavour to apply them. Servants had been engaged conditionally, and the house Avas fully ready, but the young mother could hardly listen to her aunt's explanations in her anxiety that the little ones should be rested and fed, and she responded with semi-com- prehending thanks, while movmg on with her youngest in her arms, and as many hanging to her dress as could get hold of it. Her thanks grew more emphatic at the sight of cribs in inviting order, and all things ready for a meal. " I don't drink tea with nurse," was Conrade's cry, the signal for another general outcry, untranquillized by soothings and persuasions, till the door was shut on the yoimger half of the family, and those who could not open it remained to be comforted by nurse, a soldier's ^^idow, who had been with them from the birth of Conrade., The Temple form of shyness seemed to consist in ignoring 16 THE CLEVER WOMAN OF THE FAMILY. strangers, "but being neither abashed nor silenced, only resent- ing or avoiding all attempts at intercourse ; and as the "boys rushed in and out of the rooms, exploring, exclaiming, and calling mamma, to the interruption of all that was going on, only checked for a few minutes by her uplifted hand and gentle hush, Grace saw her mother so stunned and bewil- dered that she rejoiced in the fear of cold that had decided that Eachel alone should spend the evening there. Fanny made some excuses ; she longed to see more of her aunt, but when they were a little more settled, — and as a fresh shout broke out, she was afraid they were rather unruly, — she must come and talk to her at the dear Homestead. So kind of Eachel to stay — not that the boys seemed to think so, as they went racing in and out, stretching their ship-bound legs, and taking possession of the minute shrubbery, which they scorned for the want of gum-trees and parrots. " You won't mind, Eachel dear, I must first see about baby ; " and Eachel was left to reflect on her mission, while the boys' feet cantered up and doTvii the house, and one or other of them would look in, and bui'st away in search of mamma. Little more satisfactory was the rest of the evening, for the boys took a great deal of waiting on at tea, and then some of the party would not go to sleep in strange beds without long persuasions and comfortings, till Fanny looked so weary that it was plain that no conversation could have been hoped from her, even if the baby had been less vociferous. All that could be done for her was to wish her good-night, and promise to come down early. Come early ! Yes, Eachel might come, but w^hat was the use of that when Fanny was at tlie mercy of so many \ IX SEARCH OF A MISSION. 17 claimants? She looked mucli better than the day before, and her sweet, soft welcome was most cordial and clinging. " Dear Eachel, it is like a dream to have you so near. I felt like the old life come back again to hear the surge of the sea all night, and know I should see you all so soon again." " Yes, it is a great satisfaction to have you back in your old home, under our wing. I have a great deal to tell you about the arrangements." " Oh yes ; thank you " "Mamma ! " roared two or three voices. " I wanted to explain to you " But Fanny's eye was roaming, and just then in bluest two boys. " Mamma, nurse won't undo the tin box, and my ship is in it that the Major gave me." "Yes, and my stuffed duck-bill, and I want it, mamma." " My dear Con, the Major would not let you shout so loud about it, and you have not spoken to Aunt Eachel." The boys did present their hands, and then returned to the charge. " Please order nurse to unpack it, mamma, and then. Coombe "will helj) us to sail it." "Excuse me, dear Eachel," said Fanny, "I will first see about this." And a very long seeing it was, probably meaning that she unpacked the box herself, whilst Eachel was deciding on the terrible spoiling of the children, and preparing a remon- strance. " Dear Eachel, you have been left a long time." " Oh, never mind that ; but, Fanny, you must not give way to those children too much j they will be always Hark ! was that the door-bell 1 " It was, and the visitor v^as announced as " Mr. Touchett ;" VOL. I. C 18 THE CLEVER WOMAN OF THE FAMILY. a small, dark, thin young clergyman he was, of a nervous manner, which, grooving more nervous as he shook hands with Eachel, became abrupt and hesitating. " My call is — is early. Lady Temple ; but I always pay my respects at once to any new parishioner — resident, I mean — in case I can be of any service." "Thank you, I am very much obliged," said Fanny, with a sweet, gracious smile and manner that would have made him more at ease at once, if Eachel had not added, " My cousin is quite at home here, Mr. Touchett." " Oh yes," he said, " so — so I understood." " I know no place in England so well ; it is quite a home to me, so beautiful it is," continued Eanny. " And you see great changes here." " Changes so much for the better," said Fanny, smiling her winning smile again. " One always expects more from improvements than they effect," put in Eachel, severely. " You have a large young party," said Mr. Touchett, look- ing uneasily towards Lady Temple. " Yes, I have half a dozen boys and one little girl." " Seven ! " Mr. Touchett looked up half incredulous at the girlish contour of the gentle face, then cast down his eyes as if afraid he had been rude. " Seven ! It is — it is a great charge." " Yes, indeed it is," she said earnestly ; " and I am sure you will be kind enough to give your influence to help mc with them — poor boys." "Oh! oh!" he exclaimed, "anjiihing I can do " in such a transport of eager helpfulness that Eachel coklly said, "We are all anxious to assist in the care of the children." IN SEARCH OF A MISSION. 19 He coloured up, and witli a sort of effort at self-assertion, Hurted out, " As the clergyman of the parish ," and there halted, and was beginning to look foolish, when Lady Temple took him up in her soft, persuasive way. " Of course we shall look to you so much, and you will he so kind as to let me know if there is any one I can send any broth to at any time." " Thank you ; you are very good ; " and he was quite liimself again. " I shall have the pleasure of sending you down a few names." " I never did approve the broken victual system," began Eachel; "it creates dependence." " Come here, Hubert," said Fanny, beckoning a boy she saw at a distance, " come and shake hands with Mr. Touchett." It was from instinct rather than reason ; there was a fencing between Eachel and the curate that made her uncomfortable, and led her to break it off by any means in her power ; and though Mr. Touchett was not much at his ease with the little boy, this discussion was staved off. But again Mr, Touchett made bold to say that in case Lady Temple wished for a daily governess, he knew of a very desirable young person, a most admirable pair of sisters, who had met with great reverses; but Eachel snapped Mm off shorter than ever. " We can decide nothing yet ; I have made up my mind to teach the little boys at present." " Oh, indeed ! " " It is very kind," said the perplexed Lady Temple. "I beg your pardon; I only thought, in case you were wishing for some one, that Miss Williams will be at liberty shortly." " I do not imagine Miss Williams is the person to dealmtli I . - c2 20 THE CLEVER WOMAN OF THE FAMILY. little boys," said Eachel. " In fact, I think that home teach- ing is always better than hired." " I am so much obliged," said Fanny, as Mr. Touchett, after this defeat, rose up to take leave, and she held out her hand, smiled, thanked, and sent him away so much sweetened and gratified, that Eachel would have instantly begun dissect- ing him, but that a whole rush of boys broke in, and again engrossed their mother ; and in the next lull, the uppermost necessity was of explaining about the servants who had been hired for the time, one of whom was a young woman whose health had given way over her lace pillow, and Eachel was eloquent over the crying evils of the system (everything was a system with Eachel) that chained girls to an unhealthy occupation in their early childhood, and made an overstocked market and underpaid workers — holding Fanny fast to listen by a sort of fascination in her overpowering earnestness, and great fixed eyes, which, when once their grasp was taken, would not release the victim ; and this was a matter of daily occurrence on which Eachel felt keenly and spoke strongly. "It is very sad. If you want to help the poor things, I will give anything I can." " Oh, yes, thank you ; but it is doleful merely to help them to linger out the remnant of a life consumed upon these cobwebs of vanity. It is the fountainhead that must be reached — the root of the system !" Fanny saw, or rather felt, a boy making signs at the win- dow, but durst not withdraw her eyes from the fascination of those eager ones. " Lace and lacemakers are facts," continued Eachel; "but if the middle men were exploded, and the excess of workers drafted off bv some wholesome outlet, the I IX SEARCH OF A MISSIOX, 21 price would rise, so that the remainder would be at leisure to fulfil the domestic offices of womanhood." There was a great uproar above. " I beg your ^^ardon, dear Eachel," and away went Fanny. "I do declare," cried Eachel, when Grace, having de- spatched her home-cares, entered the room a c[uarter of an hour after ; " poor Fanny's a perfect slave. One can't get in a word edgeways." Fanny at last returned, but with her baby ; and there was no chance for even Eachel to assert herself while this small queen was in presence. Grace was devoted to infants, and there was a whole court of brothers vying with one another in picking up her constantly dropped toys, and in performing antics for her amusement. Eachel, desirous to be gracious and resigned, attempted conversation with one of the eldest pair, but the baby had but to look towards him, and he was at her feet. On her departure, Eachel resumed the needful details of the arrangements resj^ecting the house and servants, and found Lady Temple as grateful and submissive as ever, except that, when advised to take M^n'tlewoocl for a term of seven years, she replied, that the Major had advised her not to bind herself down at once. "Did you let him think we should c^uarrel 1 " " Oh, no, my clear ; but it might not agree with the children." " Avonmouth ! Grace, do you hear v\diat heresy Fanny has been learning? Why, the proportion of ozone in the air here has been calculated to be five times that of even Aveton!" " Yes, dearest," said poor Fanny, very humbly, and rather 22 THE CLEVER WOMAN OF THE FAMILY. scared, " there is no place like Avonniouth, and I am sure the Major will tliink so when he has seen it." " But wdiat has he to do with your movements ? " " Sir Stephen Anshed " murmured Fanny. " The Major is military secretary, and always settles our head-quarters, and no one interferes -with him," shouted Conrade. Eachel, suspicious and jealous of her rival, was obliged to let Fanny pass on to the next item, where her eager acceptance of all that was prescribed to her was evidently meant as compensation for her refractoriness about the house. Grace had meanwhile applied herself to keeping off the boys, and was making some progress in their good graces, and in distinguishing between their sallow faces, dark eyes, and crisp, black heads. Conrade was individualized, not only by superior height, but by soldierly beartag, bright pride glancing in liis eyes, his quick gestures, bold, decided words, and imperious tone towards all, save his mother — and what- ever he w^as doing, his keen, black eye Avas always turning in search of her, he was ever ready to spring to her side to wait on her, to maintain her cause in rough championship, or to claim her attention to liimself, Francis was thick-set, round- shouldered, bullet-headed and dull-eyed, in comparison, not aggressive, but holding his own, and not very approachable ; Leoline, thin, wdiite-cheeked, large-eyed and fretfid-lipped, was ready to wdiine at Conrade's t}Tanny and Francis's appro- priations, but was graceful for Grace's protection, and more easy of access than his elders ; and Hubert was a handsome, placid child, the good boy, as well as the beauty of the family. The pair in the nursery hardly came on the stage. IN SEARCH OF A MISSION. 23 and tlie two elders would be quite sufficient for Mrs. Curtis, witli wlioni the afternoon was to be spent. The mother, evidently, considered it a very long absence, but she was anxious to see both her aunt and her o^\ti home, and set out, leaning on Eachel's arm, and smiling pleased though sad recognition of the esplanade, the pebbly beach, bathing machines and fishing boats, and pointing them out to her sons, who, on their side, would only talk of the much greater extent of Melbourne. Within the gates of the Homestead, there was a steep, sharp bit of road, cut out in the red sandstone rock, and after a few paces she paused to rest with a sigh that brought Conrade to her side, when she put her arm round his neck, and leant on his shoulder j but even her two supporters could not prevent her from looking pale and exhausted. " ISTever mind," she said, " this salt wind is delightful. How like old times it is ! " and she stood gazing across the little steep lawn at the grey sea, the line of houses following the curve of the bay, and straggling up the valley in the rear, and the purple headlands projecting point beyond point, showing them to her boys, and telling their names. " It is all ugly and cold," said Francis, vdth an ungracious shiver. " I shall go home to Melbourne when I'm a man." " And you will come, mamma ? " added Conrade. He had no answer, for Fanny was in her aunt's arms ; and, like mother and daughter, they clung to each other — more able to sympathize — more truly one together than the young widow could be with either of the guis. As soon as Fanny had rested and enjoyed the home atmo- sphere do^vnstairs, she begged to visit the dear old rooms, and carried Conrade through a course of recognitions through 24 THE CLEVER WOMAN OF THE FAMILY. the scarcely altered apartments. Only one had been much changed, namely, the schoolroom, which had been stripped of the kindly old shabby furniture that Fanny tenderly recol- lected, and was decidedly bare ; but a mahogany box stood on a stand on one side ; there was a great accession of books, and writing implements occupied the plain deal table in the centre. " What have you done to the dear old room — do you not use it still 1 " asked Fanny. " Yes, I work here," said Eachel. Vainly did Lady Temple look for that which women call work. " I have hitherto ground on at after-education and seK- improvement," said Eachel ; " now I trust to make my pre- paration available for others. I ^YiIl undertake any of your boys if you wish it." " Thank you ; but what is that box ? " — in obedience to a curious push and pull from Conrade. "It is her dispensary," said Grace. "Yes," said Eachel, "you are weak and nervous, and I have just the thing for you." "Is it homoeopathy V " Yes, here is my book. I have done great things in my district, and should do more but for prejudice. There, tliis globule is the very thing for your case ; I made it out last night in my book. That is right, and I wanted to ask you some questions about little Wilfred." Fanny had obediently swallowed her own globule, but ■little Wilfred was a difierent matter, and she retreated from the large eyes and open book, saying that he was better, and that Mr. Frampton should look at him ; but Eachel was not IN SEARCH OF A MISSION. 25 to be eluded, and was in full career of elucidation to the meanest capacity, when a sharp skii^mish between the boys ended the conversation, and it aj)peared that Conrade had caught Francis just commencing an onslaught on the globules, taking them for English sweetmeats of a minute description. The afternoon passed with the strange heaviness well known to those who find it hard to resume broken threads after long parting. There was much affection, but not fidl certainty what to talk about, and the presence of the boys would have hindered confidence, even had they not inces- santly occupied their mother. Conrade, indeed, betook him- seK to a book, but Francis was only kept out of mischief by his constantly turning over pictures with him ; however, at dark, Coombe came to convey them home, and the ladies of the Homestead experienced a sense of relief. Eachel imme- diately began to talk of an excellent preparatory school. " I was thinking of asking you," said Fanny, " if there is any one here who would come as a daily governess." " Oh ! " cried Eachel, " these two would be much better at school, and I would form the little ones, who are still manageable." " Conrade is not eight years old yet," said his mother in an imploring tone, " and the Major said I need not part with him till he has grown a little more used to English ways," " He can read, I see," said Grace, " and he told me he had- done some Latin with the Major." " Yes, he has picked up a vast deal of information, and on the voyage the Major used to teach him out of a little pocket Virgil. The Major said it would not be of much use at school, as there was no dictionary ; but that the discipline and occupation would be useful, and so they were. Conrade 26 THE CLEVER WOMAN OF THE FAMILY. Y\^ill do anything for the Major, and indeed so ^vill they aU." Three Majors in one speech, thought Eachel ; and by ^Yay of counteraction she enunciated, " I could undertake the next pair of boys easily, but these two are evidently wanting school discipline." Lady Temple feathered up like a mother dove over her nest. " You do not know Conrade. He is so trustworthy and affectionate, dear boy, and they are both always good with me. The Major said it often hurts boys to send them too young." T-u^a. " They are very young, poor little fellows," said Mrs. Curtis. *' And if they are forward in some things they are back- ward in others," said Fanny. "AA^hat Major Keith recom- mended was a governess, who would know what is generally expected of little boys." " I don't like half measures," muttered Eachel. "I do not approve of encouraging young women to crowd the over- stocked profession of governesses." Fanny opened her brown eyes, and awaited the words of wisdom. "Is it not a flagrant abuse," continued Eachel, "that whether she have a vocation or not, every woman of a certain rank, who wishes to gain her own livelihood, must needs become a governess ? A nursery maid must have a vocation, but an educated or half-educated woman has no choice ; and educator slie must become, to her own detriment, and that of her victims." " I always did tliink governesses often much to be pitied," said Fanny, finding something was expected of her. IN SEARCH OF A MISSION. 27 " "^A'^lat's the use of pity if one runs on in tlie old groove ? We must prevent the market from being drugged, by divert- ing the supj^ly into new lines." " Are there any new lines 1 " asked Fanny, surj)rised at the progress of society in her absence. " Homceopathic doctresses," whisj)ered Grace ; who, dutiful as she was, sometimes indulged in a little fun, which Eachel would affably receive unless she took it in earnest, as in the present instance. " AATiy not — I ask why not ? Some women have broken through j^rejudice, and why should not others ? Do you not agree '\AT.th me, Eanny, that female medical men — I mean medical women — would be an infinite boon 1 " " It would be very nice if they would never be nervous." " l^erves are merely a matter of training. Think of the numbers that might be removed from the resjjonsibility of incompetently educating ! I declare that to tempt a person into the office of governess, instead of opening a new field to her, is the most short-sighted indolence." " I don't want to tempt any one," said Fanny. " She ought to have been out before and be experienced, only she must be kind to the poor boys. I wanted the Major to inquire in London, but he said perlia23s I might hear of some one here." " That was right, my dear," returned her aunt. " A gentleman, an officer, could not do much in such a matter." " He always does manage whatever one wants." At which speech Eachel cast a glance towards her mother, and saw her look questioning and perplexed. " I was thinking," said Grace, " that I believe the people 28 THE CLEVER WOMAN OF THE FAMILY. at the Cliff Cottages are going away, and that ]Miss Williams might be at liberty." " Didn't I know that Grace would come out with ^liss Williams?" exclaimed Eachel. "A regular eruption of the Touchettomania. We have had him already advertising her." " Miss Williams ! " said Mrs. Curtis. " Yes, she might suit you very well. I beheve they are very respectable young women, poor things ! I have always wished that we could do more for them." "Who?" asked Fanny. " Certain pets of Mr. Touchett's," said Eachel ; " some of the numerous ladies whose mission is that curatolatry into which Grace would lapse but for my strenuous efforts." " I don't quite know why you call them his pets," said Grace, " except that he knew their antecedents, and told us about them." " Exactly, that was enough for me. I perfectly understand the meaning of Mr. Touchett's recommendations , and if what Fanny wants is a commonplace sort of upper nurse- maid, I dare say it would do." And Eachel leant back, applied herself to her wood carving, and ^drtually retired from the discussion. " One sister is a great invalid," said Grace, '• quite a cripple, and the other goes out as a daily governess. They are a clergyman's daughters, and once were very well off, but they lost everything tlu'ough some speculation of their brother. I believe he fled the country under some terrible suspicion of dishonesty ; and though no one thought they had anything to do with it, their friends dropped them because they woidd IN SEARCH OF A MISSION. 29 not give liiiii ujd, nor believe him guilty, and a little girl of his lives with thein," " Poor things ! " exclaimed Lady Temple. " I should very much like to employ this one. How very sad." " Mrs. Grey told me that her children had never done so well with any one," said Mrs. Curtis. " She wanted to engage Miss Williams permanently, hut could not induce her to leave her sister, or even to remove her to London, on account of her health." " Do you know her, Grace 1 " asked Fanny. " I have called once or twice, and have been very much pleased with the sick sister ; but Eachel does not fancy that set, you see. I meet the other at the Sunday school ; I like her looks and manner very much, and she is always at the early service before her work." " Just like a little mauve book ! " muttered Eachel. Fanny absolutely stared. " You go, don't you, Eachel 1 How we used to wish for it ! " "You have wished and we have tried," said Eachel, with a sigh. "Yes, Eachel," said Grace; "but with all drawbacks, all disappointments in ourselves, it is a great blessing. We would not be without it." " I could not be satisfied in relinquishing it voluntarily^," said Eachel, " but I am necessarily one of the idle. Were I one of the occupied, lahorare est orare would satisfy me, and that poor governess ought to feel the same. Think of the physical reaction of body on mind, and tell me if you could have the barbarity of depriving that poor jaded tiling of an hour's sleep, giving her an additional walk, fasting, in all weathers, and preparing her to be savage with the children." 30- THE CLEVER WOMAN OF THE FAMILY. " Perhaps it refreshes her, and hinders her from being cross." " Maybe she thinks so ; but if she have either sense or ear, nothing woukl so predispose her to be cross as the squeaking of !Mr. Touchett's penny-whistle choir." "Poor Mr. Touchett," sighed ^Irs. Curtis; "I wish he would not make such ambitious attempts." " But you like the choral service," said Panny, feeling as if everything had turned round. " When all the men of a regiment chant together you cannot think how grand it is, almost finer than the cathedral." "Yes, where you can do it," said Piachel, "but not where you can't." " I wish you would not talk about it," said Grace. " I must, or Panny will not understand the state of parties at Avonmouth." "Parties ! Oh, I hope not." " My dear child, party spiiit is another word for vitality. So you thought the church we sighed for had made the place all we sighed to see it, and ourselves too. Oh ! Panny, is this wdiat you have been across the world for ? " " Wliat is wrong ? " asked Panny, alarmed. "Do you remember our axiom 1 Build your church, and the rest will take care of itself. You remember our scraping and begging, and how that good Mr. Davison helped us out and brought the endowment up to the needful point for con- secration, on condition the incumbency was given to liim. He held it just a year, and was rich, and could help out his bad health with a curate. But first he went to Madeira, ami then he died, and there we arc, a perpetual curacy of <£"70 a year, no resident gentry but ourselves, a fluctuating popula- IN SEARCH OF A MISSIOISr. 31 tion mostly sick, our poor demoralized by tliem, and either crazed by dissent, or heathenized by their former distance from church. Wlio would take us 1 'No more Mr. Da\i- sons ! There was no more novelty, and too much smartness to invite self-devotion. So we were driven from j)illar to post till we settled do^\T.i into this Mr. Touchett, as good a being as ever lived, working as hard as any two, and sparing neither himself nor any one else." Fanny looked up prepared to admire. " But he has two misfortunes. He was not born a gentle- man, and his mind does not measure an inch across." " Rachel, my dear, it is not fair to prejudice Fanny ; I am sure the poor man is very well-behaved." " Mother ! woidd you be calling the ideal Anglican priest, poor man ? " " I thought he was quite gentlemanlike," added Fanny. " Gentlemanlike ! ay, that's it," said Rachel, "just so like as to delight the born curatolatress, like Grace and Miss WilKams." "Would it hurt the children?" asked Fanny, hardly comprehending the tremendous term. "Yes, if it infected you," said Rachel, intending some playfulness. " A mother of contracted mind forfeits the allegiance of her sons." " Oh, Rachel, I know I am weak and silly," said the gentle young widow, terrified, "but the Major said if I only tried to do my duty by them I should be helped." " And I will help you, Fanny," said Rachel. " All that is requisite is good sense and firimiess, and a thorough sense of i responsibility." "That is what is so dreadful. The responsibility of all 32 THE CLEVER WOMAN OF THE FAMILY. those dear fatherless boys, and if— -if I should do wrong by them." Poor Fanny fell into an uncontrollable fit of weeping at the sense of her own desolation and helplessness, and Mrs. Curtis came to comfort her, and tell her affectionately of having gone through the like feelings, and of the repeated ])ut most comfortable words of promise to the fatherless and the widow — words that had constantly come before the sufferer, but which had b}' no means lost their ■sdrtue by repetition, and Fanny was soothed with hearing instances of the special Providence over orphaned sons, and their love and deference for their mother. Eachel, shocked and dis- tressed at the effect of her sense, retired out of the conversa- tion, till at the announcement of the carriage for Lady TemjDle, her gentle cousin cheered up, and feeling herself to blame for having grieved one who only meant aid and kindness, came to her and fondly kissed her forehead, saving, " I am not vexed, dear Eachel, I know you are right. I am not clever enough to bring them up properly, but if I try hard, and pray for them, it may be made up to them. And '^f you vfill help me, Eachel dear," she added, as her readiest % peace-offering for her tears, and it was the most effectual, for iS^ Eachel was perfectly contented as Img asJEannyjvas__de-_ i,^ l^endent on her, and allowed her to assume her mission, f^ provided only that the counter influence coidd be averted, «4 and tliis Major, this universal referee, be eradicated from her .'? foolish clinging habits of reliance before her spirits were enough recovered to lay her heart open to danger. But the more Eachel saw of her cousin, the more she realized this peril. AVhen she went down on Mc-nday morning to complete the matters of business that had been IN SEAKCH OP A MISSION. 33 slurred over on the Saturday, she found that Fanny had not the slightest notion what her own income was to be. All she knew was that her General had left everything un- reservedly to herself, except .£100 and one of his swords to Major Keith, who was executor to the will, and had gone to London to " see about it," by which word poor Fanny expressed all the business that her maintenance depended on. If an old general wished to put a major in temptation, could he have found a better means of doing so ? Eachel even thought that Fanny's incapacity to understand business had made her mistake the terms of the bequest, and that Sir Stephen must have secured his property to his children ; but Fanny was absolutely certain that this was not the case, for she said the Major had made her at once sign a will dividing the property among them, and appointing himself and her Aunt Curtis their guardians. " I did not like putting such a charge on my dear aunt," said Fanny, " but the Major said I ought to appoint a relation, and I had no one else ! And I knew you would all be good to them, if they had lost me too, when baby was bom." "We would have tried," said Eachel, a little humbly, " but oh ! I am glad you are here, Fanny ! " 1^0 thing could of course be fixed till the Major had " seen about it." After which he was to come to let Lady Temple know the result; but she .beheved he would first go to Scotland to see his brother. He and his brother were the only survivors of a large family, and he had been on foreign service for twelve years, so that it would be very selfish to wish him not to take full time at home. " Selfish," thought Eachel; " if he will only stay away long enough, you shall learn, my dear, how well you can do without him ! " VOL. I. D 34 THE CLEVER WOMAN OF THE FAMILY. The boys had interrupted the conversation less than the previous one, because the lesser ones were asleep, or walking out, and the elder ones having learnt that a new week was to be begun steadily with lessons, thought it advisable to bring themselves as little into notice as possible ; but fate was sure to pursue them sooner or later, for Eachel had come down resolved on testing their acquirements, and deciding on the method to be pursued mth them ; and though their mamma, with a certain instinctive shrinking both for them and for herself, had put off the ordeal to the utmost by listening to aU the counsel about her affairs, it was not to be averted. " Now, Fanny, since it seems that more cannot be done at present, let us see about the children's education. 'WTiere are their books 1 " " We have very few books," said Fanny, hesitating ; " we had not much choice where we were." " You should have written to me for a selection." "Why — so we would, but there was always a talk of sending Conrade and Francis home. I am afraid you avlU think them very backward, dear Eachel, esj^eciaUy Francie ; but it is not their fault, dear children, and they are not used to strangers," added Fanny, nervously. " I do not mean to be a stranger," said Eachel. And while Fanny, in confusioji, made loving protestations about not meaning that, Eachel stepped out upon the lawn, and in her clear voice called " Conrade, Francis ! " Xo answer. She called "Con-rade" again, and louder, then turned round with " where can they be — not gone down on the beach r' " Oh, dear no, I trust not," said the mother, flurried. IN SEARCH OF A MISSION. 35 and coming to the window with a call that seemed to Eachel's ears like the roar of a sucking dove. But from behind the bushes forth came the two young gentlemen, their black garments considerably streaked with the green marks of laurel climbing. " Oh, my dears, what figures you are ! Go to Coombe and get yourselves brushed, and wash your hands, and then come down, and bring your lesson books." Eachel prognosticated that these preparations would be made the occasion of much Vi^aste of time; but she was answered, and with rather surprised eyes, that they had never been allowed to come into the drawing-room without looking like little gentlemen. "But you are not living in state here," said Eachel; "I never could enter into the cult some people, mamma especially, pay to their draiving-room." "The Major used to be very particular about their not coming to sit down untidy," said Panny. "He said it was not good for anybody." Martinet ! thought Eachel, nearly ready to advocate the boys making no toilette at any time ; and the present was made to consume so much time that, urged by her, Fanny once more was obKged to summon her boys and their books. It was not an extensive school library — a Latin grammar, an extremely dilapidated speUing-book, and the fourth volume of Mrs. Marcet's " Little Willie." The other three— one was unaccounted for, but CjtR had torn up the second, and Francis had thrown the first overboard in a passion. Eachel looked in dismay. " I don't know what can be done with these ! " she said. " Oh, then we'U have hoHdays till we have got books, d2 36 THE CLEVER WOMAN OF THE FAMILY. mamma," said Conrade, putting his hands on the sofa, and imitating a kicking horse. "It is very necessary to see what kind of books you ought to have," returned Eachel. " How far have you gone in this ? " " I say, mamma," reiterated Conrade, "we can't do lessons without books." "Attend to what your Aunt Eachel says, my dear; she wants to find out w^hat books you should have." " Yes, let me examine you." Conrade came most inconveniently close to her ; she pushed her chair back ; he came after her. His mother uttered a remonstrating, " My dear ! " " I thought she wanted to examine me," quoth Conrade. " When Dr. M'Yicar examines a thing, he puts it under a microscope." It was said gravely, and whether it were malice or sim- plicity, Eachel was perfectly imable to divine, but she thought anyway that Fanny had no business to laugh, and explaining the species of examination that she intended, she went to work. In her younger days she had worked much at schools, and was really an able and spirited teacher, liking the occu- pation ; and laying hold of the first book in her way, she requested Conrade to read. He obeyed, but in such a detest- able gabble that she looked up appealingly to Fanny, who suggested, "My dear, you can read better than that." He read four lines, not badly, but then broke off, " Mamma, are not w^e to have ponies? Coombe heard of a pony this morning ; it is to be seen at the ' JoUy Mariner,' and he will take us to look at it," "The 'JoUy Mariner!' It is a dreadful place, Fanny; you never ^vill let them go there ? " i IN SEARCH OF A MISSION. 37 " My dear, the Major will see about yoiir ponies wlien lie conies." " We ^vill send the coachman do^yn to inquire," added Eachel. " He is only a civilian, and the Major always chooses our horses," said Conrade. "And I am to have one too, mamma," added Francis. '' You know I have heen out four times with the staff, and the Major said I could ride as well as Con ! " " Eeading is what is wanted now, my dear, go on." Five lines more ; but Francis and his mother were whis- pering together, and of course Conrade stopped to listen. Eachel saw there was no hope but in getting him alone, and at his mother's reluctant desire, he fo^owed her to the dining-room; but there he turned dogged and indifferent, made a sort of feint of doing what he was told, but whether she tried him in arithmetic, Latin, or dictation, he made such ludicrous blunders as to leave her in perplexity whether they arose from ignorance or impertinence. His spelling was phonetic to the highest degree, and though he 0"\vned to having done sums, he would not, or did not answer the simplest question in mental arithmetic. " Five apples and eight apples, come, Conrade, what will they make 1 " "A pie." That was the hopeful way in which the examination pro- ceeded, and when Eachel attempted to say that his mother would be much displeased, he proceeded to tumble head over heels all round the room, as if he knew better ; which per- formance broke up the seance, with a resolve on her part that when she had the books she would not be so beaten. She tried Francis, but he really did know next to nothing, and 38 THE CLEVER WOMAN OF THE FAMILY. whenever lie came to a word above five letters long stopped short, and when told to spell it, said, " Mamma never made him spell ; " also muttering something depreciating ahout civilians. Eachel was a woman of perseverance. She went to the bookseller's, and obtained a fair amount of books, which she ordered to be sent to Lady Temple's. But when she came down the next morning, the parcel was nowhere to be found. There was a grand interrogation, and at last it turned out to have been safely deposited in an empty dog-kennel in the back yard. It was very hard on Eachel that Fanny giggled like a school-girl, and even though ashamed of herself and her sons, could not find voice to scold them respectably. Xo wonder, after such encouragement, that Eachel found her mission no sinecure, and felt at the end of her morning's work much as if she had been driving pigs to market, though the repetition was imposing on the boys a sort of sense of fate and obedience, and there was less active resistance, though learning it was not, only letting teaching be thrown at them. All the rest of the day, except those two hours, they ran wild about the house, garden, and beach — the latter place under the inspection of Coombe, whom, since the "Jolly Mariner '' proposal, Eachel did not in the least trust ; all the less when she heard that Major Keith, whose sohlier-servant he had originally been, thought very higlily of him. A call at Myrtlewood was formidable from the bear-garden sounds, and delicate as Lady Temple was considered to be, unable to walk or bear fatigue, she never appeared to be incommoded by the uproar in which she lived, and had even been seen careering about the nursery, or running about the garden, in a way that Grace and Eachel thou<;lit would tire a stronej woman. As II IN SEARCH OF A MISSION. 39 to a tete-h-tete with her, it was never secured by anything short of Eachel's strong will, for the children were always with her, and she went to bed, or at any rate to her own room, when they did, and she was so perfectly able to play and laugh with them that her cousins scarcely thought her sufficiently depressed, and comparing her ^vith what their own mother had' been after ten months' widowhood, agreed that after all " she had been very young, and Sir Stephen very old, and perhaps too much must not be expected of her." " The grand passion of her Kfe is yet to come," said Eachel. " I hope not," said Grace. "You maybe certain of that," said Eachel. "Feminine women always have it one time or other in their lives ; only superior ones are exempt. Eut I hope I may have influence enough to carry her past it, and prevent her taking any step that might be injurious to the children." 40 THE CLEVER WOMAN OF THE FAMILY. CHAPTEE II. RACHELS DISCIPLINE. " Thought is free, as sages tell US — ^ J>5 »^ Free to rove, and free to soar ; > i dj^ *» ^ "^ i But affection lives in bondage, 7^ (A»<^ That enthrals her more and more. " Jean Ingelow. An old friend lived in tlie neigliboiii-liood wlio remembered Fanny's father, and was very anxious to see her again, though, not able to leave the house. So the first day that it was fine enough for Mrs. Curtis to venture out, she undertook to convey Fanny to call upon her, and was off with a wonder- fully moderate allowance of children, only the two youngest boys outside with their maid. This drive brought more to light about Fanny's past way of life and feehngs than had ever yet appeared. Eachel had never elicited nearly so much as seemed to have come forth spontaneously to the aunt, who had never in old times been Fanny's confidante. Fanny's life had been almost a prolonged childhood. From the moment of her marriage with the kind old General, he and her mother had conspired to make much of her ; all the more that she was almost constantly disabled by herjtaie i 1^ of^health, and was kept additionally languid and helpless by ^ '\ the effects of climate. Her mother had managed her house- hold, and she had absolutely had no care, no duty at aU_biit I kachel's discipline. 41 to be affectionate and grateful, and to be j)retty and gracious at the dinner parties. Even in lier mother's short and sudden illness, the one thought of both the patient and the General had been to spare Fanny, and she had been scarcely made aware of the danger, and not allowed to witness the suffering. The chivalrous old man who had taken on himself the charge of her, still regarded the young mother of his children as alinqst_asjmuc]hL,of_jJiabyJ^ and devoted '^'^'' himself aU the more to sparing her trouble, and preventing her from feeling more thrown upon her by her mother's death. The notion of training her to act alone never even occurred to him, and when he was thrown from his horse, and carried into a wayside-hut to die, his first orders were that no hurried message might be sent to her, lest she might be startled and injured by the attempt to come to him. All he could do for her was to leave her in the charge of his military secretary, who had long been as a son to him. Fanny told her aunt "with loving detail all that she had heard from Major Keith of the brave old man's calm and resigned end — too full of trust even to be distressed with alarms for the helpless young wife and children, but committing them in full reliance to the care of their Father in heaven, and to the present kindness of the friend who stood by his pillow. The will, which not only Eachel but her mother thought strangely ung-uarded, had been drawn up in haste, because Sir Stephen's family had outgroAvn the provisions of a former one, which had besides designated her mother, and a friend since dead, as guardians. Haste, and the conscious want of legal knowledge, had led to its being made as simple as possible, and as it was. Sir Stephen had scarcely had the power to sign it. 42 THE CLEVER WOMAN OF THE FAMILY. It was Major Keith who had home the tidings to the poor little widow, and had taken the sole care of the hoys during the sad weeks of utter prostration and illness. Female friends were with her, and tended her affectionately, hut if exertion or thought were required of her, the Major had to he called to her sofa to awaken her faculties, and she always awoke to attend to his wishes, as though he were the channe of her hushand's. This state of things ended with the hirth of the little girl, the daughter that Sir Stephen had so much wished for, coming too late to he welcomed hy him, hut awakening her mother to tearful joy and renewed powers of life. The nine months of little Stephana's life had heen a time of continual change and yariety, of new interests and occupations, and of the resumption of a feeling of health which had scarcely heen tasted since the first plunge into warm climates. Perhaps it was unreasonahle to expect to find Fanny hroken down ; and she talked in her own simpl ■ way with ahundant oyerflomng affection of her hushand : hut even Mrs. Curtis thought it was to her more like the loss of her own father than of the father of her children ; and though not in the least afraid of anything unhecoming in her gentle, retiring Fanny, still felt that it -was more the chari. of a girl than of a widow, dreaded the hoys, dreaded their fate, and dreaded the Major more. Diu'ing this driye, Grace and Eachel had the care of the elder hoys, whom Eachel thought safer in her keeping than in Coomhe's. A walk along the cliffs was one resource for their amusement, hut it residted in Conrade's climhing into the most hreak-neck places, hy preference selecting those that Eachel called him out of, and as all the others thought it necessary to go after liim, the jeopardy of Leoline and Rachel's discipline. 43 Hubert became greater than it was possible to permit ; so Grace took tliem by the bands, and lured tbem home mth promises of an introduction to certain white rabbits at the lodge. After their departure, their brothers became infinitely more obstreperous. Whether it were that Conrade had some slight amount of consideration for the limbs of his lesser followers, or whether the fact were — what Eachel did not remotely imagine — that he was less utterly immanageable with her sister than with herself, certain it is that the brothers went into still more intolerable places, and treated their guardian as ducklings treat an old hen. At last they quite disappeared from the view round a projecting point of rock, and when she turned it, she found a battle royal going on over an old lobster-pot — Conrade hand to hand with a stout fisher-boy, and Francis and sundry amphibious creatures of both sexes exchanging a hail of stones, water-smoothed brick-bats, cockle-shells, fishes' backbones, and other un- savoury missiles. Abstractedly, Eachel had her theory that young gentlemen had better scramble their way among their poor neighbours, and become used to all ranks ; but when it came to witnessing an actual skirmish when she was respon- sible for Fanny's sons, it was needful to interfere, and in equal dismay and indignation she came round the point. The light artillery fled at her aspect, and she had to catch Francis's arm in the act of discharging after them a cuttle- fish's white spine, . with a sharp " For shame ; they are running away ! Conrade, Zack, have done ! " Zack was one of her own scholars, and held her in respect. He desisted at once, and with a touch of his rough forelock, looked sheepish, and said, " Please, ma'am, he was meddling with our lobster-pot." 44 THE CLEVER WOMAN OF THE FAMILY. "I wasn't doing any harm," said Conrade. "I was jiist looking in, and they all came and shied stones at us." " I don't care how the quarrel hegan," said RacheL " You would not have run into it if you had been behaving properly. Zack was quite right to protect his father's property, but he might have been more civil. Is'ow shake hands, and have done with it." " Not shake hands with a low boy," growled Francis. But happily Conrade was of a freer spirit, and in spite of Eachel's interference, had sense enough to know himself in the wrong. He held out his hand, and when the ceremony had been gone through, put his hands in his pockets, produced a shilling, and said, " There, that's in case I did the thing any harm." Rachel w^ould have preferred Zachary's being above its acceptance, but he was not, and she w^as than kf id that a wood path offered itself, leading through the Homestead plantations away from the temptations and perils of the shore. That the two boys, instead of listening to her remon- strance, took to punching and kicking one another, was a ' mitigated form of evil for which she willingly compounded, - having gone tlirough so much us eless int erference', already, » that she felt as if she had no spirit left to keep the peace, and that they must settle theii- little affairs between them- selves. It was the most inn ocent diversion: in which she could ho^De to see them indulge. She onl}" desired that it might last them past a thi'ush's nest, in the hedge between the park and plantation, a somewhat treasured discovery of Grace's. No such good luck. Either the thrush's impru- dence or Grace's visits had made the nest dangerously visible, and it was proclaimed with a shout. Rachel, in hot haste. Rachel's discipline. 45 warned them against taking Lirds'-nests in general, and that in particular. " IsTests are made to be taken," said Francis. " I've got an egg of all the Australian birds the Major could get me," said Conrade, "and I mean to have all the English ones." " Oh, one egg ; there's no harm in taking that ; but this nest has young birds." The young birds must of course be seen, and Eachel stood by with despairing frowns, commands, and assurances of their mother's displeasure, while they peeped in, tantalized the gaping yellow throats, by holding up their fingers, and laid hands on the side of the nest, peeping at her with laughing, mischievous eyes, enjoying her distress. She was glad at last to find them coming away without the nest, and after crossing the park, arrived at the house, tired out, but with two hours of the boys still on her hands. They, how- ever, were a little tired, too ; and, further, Grace had hunted out the old bowls, much to the delight of the younger ones. This sport lasted a good while, but at last the sisters, who had relaxed their attention a little, perceived that Conrade and Hubert were both missing, and on Eachel's inquiry where they were, she received from Francis that elegant stock answer, " in their skins." However, they came to light in process of time, the two mothers returned home, and Mrs. Curtis and Grace had the conversation almost in their own hands. Eachel was too much tired to do anything but read the new number of her favourite " Traveller's Magazine," listening to her mother with one ear, and gathering additional impressions of Sir Stephen Temple's imprudence, and the need of their own vigilance. To make Fanny feel that she 46 THE CLEVER WOMAN OP THE FAMILY. could lean upon some one besides the military secretary, seemed to "be the great object, and she was so confiding and affectionate with her own kin, that there were great hopes. Those boys were an infliction, no doubt, but, thought Eachel, " there is always an ordeal at the beginning of one's mission. I am mastering them by degrees, and should do so sooner if I had them in my own hands, and no more worthy task can be done than training human beings for their work in this world ; so I must be willing to go through a little while I bring them into order, and fit their mother for managing them." She spent the time before breakfast the next morning in a search among the back numbers of the " Traveller's Magazine " for a paper upon "Educational Laws," which she thought would be very good reading for Fanny. Her search had been just completed when Grace returned home from church, looking a good deal distressed. " My poor tlixushes have not escaped, Eachel," she said ; " I came home that way to see how they were going on, and the nest is torn out, one poor little fellow lying dead below it." " Well, that is much worse than I expected ! " burst out Eachel. " I did think that boy Conrade would at least keep his promises." And she detailed the adventure of the previous day, whence the conclusion was but too evident. Grace, however, said in her OAvn sweet manner that she believed boys could not resist a nest, and thought it mere womanhood to intercede for such lawfid game. She thought it would be best to take no notice, it would only distress Fanny, and make " the mother" more afraid of the boys than she was already, and she doubted the possibility of bringing it home to the puerile conscience. Rachel's discipline. 47 "That is weak!" said Eachel. "I received the boy's word, and it is my "business to deal with the breach of promise." So down went Eachel, and finding the boys rushing about the garden, according to their practice, before her arrival, she summoned Conrade, and addressed him with, " Well, Comrade, I knew that you were violent and disobedient, but I never expected you to fail in your honour as a gentleman." " I'll thrash any one who says I have," hotly exclaimed Conrade. " Then you must thrash me. You gave your word to me not to take your Aunt Grace's thrush's nest." " And I didn't," said Conrade, boldly. But Eachel, used to flat denials at the viUage-school, was not to b§ thus set aside. " I am shocked at you, Conrade," she said. " I know your mamma will be exceedingly grieved. You must have fallen into very sad ways to be able to utter such a bold untruth. You had better confess at once, and then I shall have something to tell her that will comfort her." Conrade's dark face looked set as iron. " Come j tell me you are sorry you took the nest, and have broken your word, and told a falsehood." Eed colour flushed into the brown cheek, and the hands were clenched. " There is not the smallest use in denying it. I know you took it when you and Hubert went away together. Your Aunt Grace found it gone this morning, and one of the poor little birds dead below. What have you done with the others r' I^ot a word. 48 THE CLEVER WOMAN OF THE FAMILY. " Then I grieve to say I must tell all to your mother." There was a sort of smile of defiance, and he followed her. Tor a moment she thought of preventing this, and preparing Fanny in private, but recollecting that this would give him the opportunity of preparing Huhert to support his false- hood, she let him enter wdth her, and sought Lady Temple in the nursery. " Dear Fanny, I am very sorry to bring you so much vexation. I am afraid it will be a bitter grief to you, but it is only for Conrade's o"wn sake that I do it. It was a cruel thing to take a bird's-nest at all, but worse when he knew that his Aunt Grace was particularly fond of it ; and, be- sides, he had promised not to touch it, and now, saddest of all, he denies having done so." " Oh, Conrade, Conrade ! " cried Fanny, quite confounded, " You can't have done like this ! " " JSTo, I have not," said Conrade, coming up to her, as she held out her hand, positively encouraging him, as Eachel thought, to persist in the untruth. " Listen, Fanny," said Eachel. " I do not wonder that you are unwilling to believe anything so shocking, but I do not come without being only too certain." And she gave the facts, to which Fanny listened with pale cheeks and tearful eyes, then turned to the boy, whose hand she had held all the time, and said, " Dear Con, do pray tell me if you did it." " I did not," said Conrade, ^VTenching his hand away, and putting it behind his back. "Where's Hubert?" asked Rachel, looking round, and much vexed when she perceived that Hubert had been within hearing all the time, though to be sure there was eachel's discipline. 49 some little hope to be founded upon the simplicity of five years old. " Come here, Hubert dear," said his mother ; " don't be frightened ; only come and tell me where you and Con went yesterday, when the others were playing at bowls." Hubert hung his head, and looked at his brother. " Tell," quoth Conrade. " Never mind her, she's only a civilian." " Where did you go, Hubert ?" '' Con shoAved me the little birds in their nest." " That is right, Hubert, good little boy. Did you or he touch the nest ?" " Yes." Then, as Conrade started, and looked fiercely at him, " Yes you did. Con, you touched the inside to see what it was made of." " Eut what did you do with it?" asked Eachel. " Left it there, up in the tree," said the little boy. " There, Eachel ! " said the mother, triumphantly. " I don't know what you mean," said Eachel, angrily, " only that Conrade is a worse boy than I had thought him, and has been teaching his little brother falsehood." The angTy voice set Hubert crying, and little Cyril, who was very soft-hearted, joined in chorus, followed by the baby, who was conscious of something very disagreeable going on in her nursery. Thereupon, after the apparently most important business of comforting Miss Temple had been gone through, the coiu?t of justice adjourned, Eachel opening the door of Conrade's little room, and recommending solitary imprisonment there till he should be brought to confession. She did not at all reckon on his mother going in with him, and shutting the door after her. It was not VOL. I. E 50 THE CLEVER WOMAN OF THE FAMILY. the popular notion of solitary confinement, and Racliel vcas obliged to retire, and wait in the drawing-room for a quarter of an hour before Fanny came down ; and then it was to say— "Do you know, Eachel dear, I am convinced that it must be a mistake. Conrade assures me he never touched the nest." " So he persists in it?" " And indeed, Eachel dear, I cannot help believing him. If it had been Francie, now ; but I never knew Conrade tell an untruth in his life." *' You never knew, because you always believe him." " And it is not only me, but I have often heard the Major say he could always depend on Conrade's word." Eachel's next endeavour was at gentle argument. " It must be dreadful to make such a discovery, but it was far worse to let deceit go on undetected ; and if only they] were firm " At that moment she beheld two knickerbocker boys prancing on the lawn. " Didn't you lock the door ? Has he broken out 1 How audacious ! " " I let him come out," said Fanny ; " there was nothing to shut him up for. I beg your pardon, dear Eachel ; I am very sorry for the poor little bu'ds and for Grace, but I am sure Conrade did not take it." " How can you be so unreasonable, Fanny? — the evidence," and Eachel went over it all again. || " Don't you think," said Fanny, " that some boy may have got into the park 1 " " My dear Fanny, I am sorry for you ; it is quite out of the question to thmk so ; the place is not a stone's-throw from Eandall's lodge. It will be the most fatal thing in the eachel's discipline. 51 world to let your weakness be imposed on in this way. JS'ow that the case is clear, the boy must be forced to confession, and severely punished." Fanny burst into tears. "I am very sorry for you, Fanny. I know it is very painful ; I assure you it is so to me. Perhaps it would be best if I were to lock him up, and go from time to time to see if he is come to a better mind." She rose up. " N'o, no, Eachel!" absolutely screamed Fanny, starting up, " my boy hasn't done anything wrong, and I won't have him locked up ! Go away ! If anything is to be done to my boys, I'll do it myself : they haven't got any one but me. Oh, I wish the Major would come !" " Fanny, how can you be so foolish 1 — as if I would hurt your boys ! " " But you won't believe Conrade — my Coiu-ade, that never told a falsehood in his life ! " cried the mother, with a flush in her cheeks and a bright glance in her soft eyes. " You want me to punish him for what he hasn't done." " How much alike mothers are in all classes of life," thought Eachel, and much in the way in which she would have brought Zack's mother to reason by threats of expulsion from the shoe-club, she observed, " Well Fanny, one thing is clear, while you are so weak as to let that boy go on in his deceit, unrepentant and unpunished, I can have no more to do mth his education." " Indeed," softly said Fanny, " I am afraid so, Eachel. You have taken a great deal of trouble, but Conrade declares he will never say a lesson to you again, and I don't quite see how to make him after this." E 2 U OF ILL LIB. 52 THE CLEVER WOMAN OF THE FAMILY. " Oh, very well ; then there's an end of it. I am sony for you, Fanny." And away walked Eachel, and as she went towards the gate two artificial y^^s d'eau, making a considerable curve in the air, alighted, the one just before her, the other, better aimed, in the back of her neck. She had too much dignity to charge back upon the offenders, but she went home full of the story of Fanny's lamentable weakness, and prognos- tications of the misery she was entailing on herself. Her mother and sister were both much concerned, and thought Fanny extremely foolish ; IVIrs. Curtis consoling herself with the hope that the boys would be cured and tamed at school, and begging that they might never be let loose in the park again. Eachel could not dwell much longer on the matter, for she had to ride to Upper Avon Park to hold council on the books to be ordered for the book-club ; for if she did not go herself, whatever she wanted especially was always set aside as too something or other for the rest of the sub- scribers. Mrs. Curtis was tired, and stayed at home ; and Grace spent the afternoon in investigations about the harrying of the thrushes, but, alas ! without coming a bit nearer the truth. Nothing was seen or heard of Lady Temple till, at half-past nine, one of the midges, or diminutive flies used at Avonmonth, came to the door, and Fanny came into the drawing-room — wan, tearful, agitated. " Dear Eachel, I am so afraid I was hasty ; I coidd notj sleep without coming to tell you how sorry I am." " Then you are convmced 1 I knew you would be." " Oh, yes, I have just been sitting by him after he w; gone to bed. He never goes to sleep till I have done that,] Rachel's discipline. 53 and lie always tells me if anything is on liis mind. I could not ask him again, it would have been insulting him ; but he went over it all of himself, and owned he ought not to have put a finger on the edge of the nest, but he wanted so to see what it was lined with ; otherwise he never touched it. He says, poor boy, that it was only your beiug a civilian that made you not able to believe him. I am sure you must believe him now." Mrs. Curtis began, in her gentle way, about the difficulty of believing one's children in fault, but Lady Temple was entirely past accepting the possibility of Conrade's being to blame in this j)articular instance. It made her bristle iip again, so that even Eachel saw the impossibility of pressing it, and trusted to some signal confutation to ciu-e her of her infatuation. But she was as affectionate as ever, only wanting to be forgiven for the morning's warmth, and to assure dear Aunt Curtis, dear Grace, and dearest Eachel in particular, that there was no doing without them, and it was the greatest blessing to be near them. " Oh ! and the squirting, dear Eachel ! I was so sorry when I found it out ; it was only Francie and Leo. I was very angry with them for it, and I should like to make them ask pardon, only I don't think Francie would. I'm afraid they are very rude boys. I must write to the Major to find me a governess that won't be very strict with them, and if she could be an officer's daughter, the boys would respect her so much more." 54 THE CLEVER WOMAN OF THE FAMILY. CHAPTER III. MACKAREL LANE. " For I would lonely stand Uplifting my white hand, On a mission, on a mission, To declare the coming vision." Elizabeth Barrett Browning. "Well, Grace, all things considered, perhaps I had better walk down with you to Mackarel Lane, and then I can form a judgment on these Williamses without committing Fanny." " Then you do not intend to go on teaching 1 " " !^ot while Conrade continues to brave me, and is backed up by poor Fanny." " I might speak to Miss Williams after church, and bring her in to Myrtlewood for Fanny to see." " Yes, that might do in time ; but I shall make up my mind first. Poor Fanny is' so easily led that we must take care what influences f^ill in her way." " I always wished you would call." " Yes, and I would not by Avay of patronage to please IMr. Touchett, but this is for a purpose ; and I hope we shall find both sisters at home." Mackarel Lane was at right angles to the shore, running, up the valley of the Avon ; but it soon ceased to be fishy, and became agricultural, owning a few cottages of verj humble gentility, which were wont to hang out boards to MACKAREL LANE. 56 attract lodgers of small means. At one of these Grace rang, and obtained admittance to a parlour with crazy French windows opening on a little strip of garden. In a large wheeled chair, between the fire and the mndow, surrounded by numerous little appliances for comfort and occupation, sat the invalid Miss Williams, holding out her hand in welcome to the guests. " A fine countenance ! what one calls a fine countenance I " thought Rachel. "Is it a delusion of insipidity as usual ? The brow is good, massive, too much for the features, but perhaps they were fuller once ; eyes bright and vigorous, hazel, the colour for thought ; complexion meant to be brilliant brunette, a pleasant glow still; hair with threads of grey. I hope she does not affect youth ; she can't be less than one or two and thirty ! Many people set up for beauties with far less claim. What is the matter with herl It is not the countenance of deformity — accident, I should sa}". Yes, it is all favourable except the dress. What a material ! what a pattern ! Did she get it second-hand from a lady's-maid ? Will there be an incongruity in her conversa- tion to match ? Let us see. Grace making inquiries — Qmte at my best — All ! she is not one of the morbid sort, never thinking themselves better." " I was afraid, I had not seen you out for some time." " N'o ; going out is a troublesome business, and sitting in the garden answers the same purpose." " Of air, perhaps, but hardly of change or of view." " Oh ! I assure you there is a wonderful variety," she answered, with an eager and brilliant smile. " Clouds and sunsets ? " asked Eachel, beginning to be interested. 56 THE CLEVER WOMAN OF THE FAMILY. " Yes, differing every day. Then I have the tamarisk and its inhabitants. There has been a tom-tit's nest every year since we came, and that provides us Avith infinite amusement. Besides the sea-gulls are often so good as to float high enough for me to see them. There is a wonderful charm in a circum- scribed view, because one is obliged to look well into it aU." " Yes ; eyes and no eyes apply there," said Eachel. " We found a great prize, too, the other day. Eosie ! " At the call a brown-haired, brown-eyed child of seven, look- ing like a little fawn, sprang to the Tvdndow from the outside. " My dear, will you show the sphynx to Miss Curtis ? " The little girl daintily brought a box covered with net, in which a huge apple-green caterpillar, with dashes of bright colour on his sides, and a horny spike on his tail, was feasting upon tamarisk leaves. Grace asked if she was going to keej) it. " Yes, till it buries itself," said the child. " Aunt Ermine thinks it is the elephant sphynx." " I cannot be sure," said the aunt ; " my sister tried t'- find a figure of it at Yillars', but he had no book that gave the caterpillars. Do you care for those creatures ? " ■ "I like to watch them," said Grace, "but I know nothing about them scientifically ; Eachel does that." " Then can you help us to the history of our sphynx 1 '| asked Miss Williams, with her pleasant look. "I will see if I have his portrait," said Eachel, "but I doubt it. I prefer general principles to details." " Don't you find working out details the best way of entering into general principles ? " It was new to Eachel to find the mention of a general principle received neither with a stare nor a laugh ; and she I MACKAREL LANE. 57 gatliered herself up to answer, " ISTammg and collecting is not science." "And masonry is not architectiu^e, but you can't have architecture without it." " One can have broad ideas without all the petty work of flower botanists and butterfly naturalists." " Don't you think the broad ideas would be rather of the hearsay order, at least to most people, unless their application were worked out in the trifle that came first to hand ? " "Experimental philosophy," said Eachel, in rather a con- sidering tone, as if the notion, when presented to her in plain English, required translation into the language of her thoughts. " If you like to call it so," said Miss Williams, with a look of arch fun, " Eor instance, the gTeat art of mud pie taught us the porous nature of clay, the expansive power of steam, etc. etc." " You had some one to improve it to you ? " " Oh dear no. Only afterwards, when we read of such things we remembered how our clay manufactures always burst in the baking unless they were well dried first." " Then you had the rare power of elucidating a prin- ciple?" " l!^o, not I. My brother had; but I could only perceive the confirmation." " This reminds me of an interesting article on the Edge- worth system of education in the 'Traveller's Eeview.' I will send it down to you." " Thank you, but I have it here." " Indeed ; and do you not think it excellent, and quite agree with it 1 " 58 THE CLEVER WOMAN OF THE FAMILY. " Yes, I quite agree with it," and there was an odd look in her bright transparent eyes that made Grace speculate whether she could have heard that agreement witli the Invalid in the " Traveller's Review " was one of the primary articles of faith acquired by Rachel. But Grace, though rather proud of Rachel's falling under the spell of Miss Williams' conversation, deemed an exami- nation rather hard on her, and took the opportunity of asking for her sister. " She is generally at home by this time ; but this is her last day at Cliff Cottages, and she was to stay late to help in the packing up." " Will she be at home for the present ? " asked Grace. "Yes, Rose, and I are looking forward to a festival of her." Grace was not at all surjDrised to hear Rachel at once commit herself with " My cousin. Lady Temple," and i-ush into the matter in hand as if secure that the other ]\Iiss Williams would educate on the principles of the Invalid : but full in the midst there was a sound of wheels and a ring at the bell. Miss Williams quietly signed to her little at- tendant to put a chair in an accessible place, and in walked Lady Temple, Mrs. Curtis, and the middle brace of boys. "The room will be too full," was Grace's aside to her sister, chiefly thinking of her mother, but also of their hostess ; but Rachel returned for answer, " I must see about it ; " and Grace coidd only remove herself into the verandah, and try to attract Leoline and Hubert after her, but failing in this, she talked to the far more conversible Rose about the bullfinch that hung at the w^indow, w^hich loved no one but Aunt Ermine, and scolded and pecked at every one else; and Augustus, the beloved tame toad, tliat lived in a hole MACKAEEL LANE. 59 under a tree in the garden. Mrs. Cnrtis, considerate and tender-hearted, startled to find her daughter in the field, and Trashing her niece to hegin about her own affairs, talked common-place by way of filling up the time ; and Rachel had her eyes free for a range of the apartment. The founda- tion was the dull, third-rate lodging-house, the superstructure told of other scenes. One end of the room was almost filled by the frameless portrait of a dignified clergyman, who would have had far more justice done to him by greater distance ; a beautifully-painted miniature of a lady with short waist and small crisp curls, was the centre of a sj^stem of photographs over the mantel-piece ; a large crayon sketch showed three sisters between the ages of six and sixteen, sentimentalizing over a flower-basket ; a pair of water-colour dravfings represented a handsome church and comfortable parsonage ; and the domestic gallery was completed by two prints — one of a middle-aged county-member, the other one of Chalon's ladylike matrons in watered-silk aprons. With some difficulty Rachel read on the one the autograph, J. T. Beau- champ, and on the other the inscription, the Lady Alison Beau- champ. The table-cover was of tasteful silk patchwork, the vase in the centre was of red earthenware, but was encircled with real ivy leaves gummed on in their freshness, and was filled with wild flowers ; books filled every corner ; and Rachel felt herself out of the much-loathed region of common-place, but she could not recover from her surprise at the audacity of such an indepeaident measure on the part of her cousin ; and under cover of her mother's civil talk, said to Fanny, " I never expected to see you here." " My aunt thought of it," said Fanny, " and as she seems to find the cliildren too much " 60 THE CLEVER WOJIAX OF THE FAMILY. Slie broke off, for ^Irs, Curtis had paused to let her in- troduce the subject, but i)oor Fanny had never taken the initiative, and Eachel did it for her by explaining that all had come on the same errand, to ask if Miss Williams Avould undertake the lessons of her nephews ; Lady Temple softly murmured under her veil something about hopes and t much trouble ; an appointment was made for the following morning, and Mrs. Curtis, with a general sensation of an oppressive multitude in a small room, took her leave, and the company departed, Fanny, all the way home, hoping that the other Miss Williams would be like her sister, pitying th^- cripple, wishing that the sisters were in the remotest degi^'. . military, so as to obtain the respect of the boys, and won- dering what would be the Major's opinion. " So many ladies ! " exclaimed little Kose. " Aunt Ermine. have they made your head ache 1 " " No, my dear, thank you, I am only tired. If you will pull out the rest for my feet, I will be quiet a little, and be ready for tea when Aunt Ailie comes." The child handily converted the chair into a couch, ar- ranging the dress and coverings with the familiarity of long use, and by no means shocked by the contraction and help- lessness of the lower limbs, to which she had been so much accustomed all her life that it never even occurred to her to pity Aunt Ermine, who never treated herself as an object of compassion. She was thanked by a tender pressure on her hair, and then sa}dng — " jN'ow I shall wish Augustus good night ; bring Yioletta home from her play in the garden, and let her drink tea, and go to bed." All, Violetta, purchased with a silver groat, what was not MACKAREL LANE. 61 your value in Mackarel Lane ? Were you not one of its most considered inhabitants, scarcely less a child of Aunt Ermine and Aimt Alison than their Eosehud herself ? Murmur, murmur, rippled the child's happy low-toned monologue directed to her silent but sufficient playmate, and so far from disturbing the aunt, that more than one smile played on her lips at the quaint fancies, and at the well of gladness in the young spiiit, which made day after day of the society of a cripple and an old doll, one constant song of bliss, one dream of bright imaginings. Surely it was an equalization of blessings that rendered little lonely Eose, motherless and well nigh fatherless, poor, with no companion but a crippled aunt, a bird and a toad, with scarcely a toy, and never a party of pleasure, one of the most joyous beings under the sun, free from occasions of childish troubles, with- out collisions of temper, with few contradictions, and with lessons rather pleasure than toil. Perhaps Ermine did not take into account the sunshiny content and cheerfulness that made herseK a delightful companion and playfellow, able to accept the child as her solace, not her burthen. Presently Eose looked up, and meeting the bright pleasant eyes, observed — " Yioletta has been very good, and said all her lessons quite perfect, and she would like to sit \ip till her Aunt Ailie comes home. Do you think she may ? " " Will she not be tired to-morrow 1 " " Oh, then she will be lazy, and not get up when she is called, till I pull all the clothes off, and that will be fun." " Or she may be fretful now 1 " A series of little squeaks ensued, followed by "^N'ow, my love j that is taking a very unfair advantage of my promise. 62 THE CLEVER WOMAN OF THE FAMILY. You will make your poor Aunt Ermine's head ache, and I shall have to send you to bed." " Would not a story pass away the time "? " "You tell it, Aunt Ermine; your stories are always the hest. And let there be a fairy in it ! " The fairy had nearly performed her part, w^hen the arrival took place, and Rose darted forward to receive Aunt Ailie's greeting kiss. " Yes, Rosie — yes, Violetta ] what do you think I have got for you 1. " And out came a doll's chair with a broken leg, condemned by the departing pupils, and granted with a laugh to the governess's request to take it to h&r little niece ; but never in its best days had the chair been so prized. It was introduced to Violetta as the reward of virtue for having controlled her fretfulness, and the repair of its infirmity w^as the first con- sideration that occupied all the three. After all, Violetta's sitting posture was, as Alison observed, an example of the inclined plane, but that was nothing to Eose, and the seance would have been indefinitely prolonged, but for considera- tions for Violetta's health. The sisters were alike, and Alison had, like her elder, what s emphatically called countenance, but her features were less chiselled, and her dark straight brows so nearly met that, as Eose had once remarked, they made a bridge of one arch instead of two. Six years younger, in full health, and daily battling with the world, Alison had a remarkable look of concentration and vigour, her upright bearing, clear decided speech, and glance of kindness won instant respect and reliance, but her face missed the radiant beamy bright- ness of her sister's ; her face was sweet and winning, but it MACKAREL LANE. 63 was not habitual with, her, and there was ahout her a look as if some terrible wave of grief or suffering had swept over her ere yet the features were fully fixed, and had thus moulded her expression for life. But playfulness was the tone that reigned around Ermine's couch at ordinary mo- ments, and beside her the grave Alison was lively, not with effort, but by infection. " There," she said, holding uj) a cheque ; " now we'll have a jubilee, and take you down under the East cliff, and we'll invest a shilling in ' Ivanhoe,' and Eose and Violetta shall open their ears ! " " And you shall have a respectable Sunday mantle." " Oh, I dare say Julia will send us a box." "Then you will have to put a label on your back, 'Second- hand ! ' or her velvet will be a scandal. I can't wear out that at home like this flagrant, flowery thing, that I saw Miss Curtis looking at as rather a disreputable article. There's preferment for you, Ailie ! What do you think of a general's widow with six boys 1 She is come after you. "We had a great invasion — three Curtises and this pretty little widow, and various sons ! " "Will she stay?" " Most likely, for she is a relation of Mrs. Curtis, and comes to be near her. You are to call for inspection at eleven o'clock to-morrow, so I fear yoiu' holiday will be short." " Well, the less play the less anxiety. How many drives will the six young gentlemen be worth to you 1 " " I am afraid it will be at the cost of tough work to you ; she looked to me too sweet a creature to have broken her sons in, but I should think she would be pleasant to deaL with." 64 THE CLEVER WOMAN OF THE FAMILY. " If she be like Miss Curtis, I am sure she -will." " Miss Curtis ? My old friend you mean. She was rather suppressed to-day, and I began to comprehend the reason of the shudder with which Mr. Touchett speaks of the dog- matical young lady." " I hope she did not overwhelm you ! " " Oh, no ! I rather liked her ; she was so earnest and spirited, I could fancy enjoying a good passage at arms with her if these were old times. But I hope she will not take the direction of your school-room, though she is an admirer of the educational papers in the 'Traveller.' " And here the discussion was ended by the entrance of little Eose with the preliminaries of the evening meal, after which she went to bed, and the aimts took out books, work, and writing materials. Alison's report the next day was — "A^^eil, she is a very sweet creature. There is something indescribably touching in her voice and eyes, so soft and wistful, especially when she implores one not to be hard on those great scrambling boys of hers." " So she is your fate 1 " " Oh, yes ; if there had been ten more engagements offered, I could not have helped accepting hers, even if it had not been on the best terms I have ever had." " ^^lat 1 " " Seventy — for the hours between nine and five. Pretty well for a journeyman hack, is it not? Indeed, the pretty thing's only fear seemed to be that she was requiring too much, and offering too little, i^o, not her 07ili/ fear, for there is some major in the distance to whose approval every- thing must be subject — imcle or guardian, I suppose ; but he MACKAREL LANE. 65 seemed to be ratlier an object of jealousy to tbe younger Miss Curtis, for every liint of wishing to wait for the Major made her press on the negotiations." " Seventy ! I hope you will make it do, Ailie. It would be a great relief." " And spare your brains not a little. Yes, I do trust to keeping it, for Lady Temple is deKghtful ; and as to the boys, I fancy it is only taming they want. The danger is, as Miss Eachel told me, whether she caIn bear the sight of the process. I imagine Miss Eachel herseK has tried it, and failed." " Past amateur work," said Ermine, smiling. " It really is lucky you had to turn governess, Ailie, or there would have been a talent thrown away." " Stay tin I have tried," said Alison, who had, however, had experience enough not to be much alarmed at the pro- spect. Order was wont to come with her presence, and she hardly knew the aspect of tumultuous idleness or insubor- dination to unenforced authority ; for her eye and voice in themselves brought cheerful discipline without constraint, and upheld by few punishments, for the strong influence took away the spirit of rebellion. After her first morning's work she came home full of good auguries ; the boys had been very pleasant with her after the first ten minutes, and Conrade had gained her heart by his attention to his mother. He had, however, examined her minutely whether she had any connexion with the army, and looked grave on her disavowal of any relationship with soldiers ; Hubert adding, " You see, Aunt Eachel is only a civilian, and she hasn't any sense at all." And when Francis had been reduced to the much disliked process of speUiag VOL. I. p 66 THE CLEVER WOMAN OF THE FAMILY. tiiilQio^\Ti words, he had. muttered under Ms "breatli, "She was only a civilian." To which she had rejoined that "At least she knew thus much, that the first militarj^ duty was obedience, " and Francis's instant submission proved that she had made a good shot. Of the Major she had heard much more. Everything was referred to him, both by mother and children, and Alison was the more puzzled as to his exact connexion with them. "I sometimes suspect," she said, " that he may have felt the influence of those winsome brown eyes and caressing manner, as I know I should if I were a man. I wonder how long the old general has been dead? 1^0, Ermine, you need not shake your head at me. I don't mean even to let Miss Curtis tell me if she would. I know confidences from partizan relations are the most miscliief- making things in the world." In pursuance of this principle Alison, or Miss Williams, as she was called in her vocation, was always reserved and di - creet, and though ready to tallv in due measure, Eachel always felt that it was the upper, not the under current that was proffered. The brow and eyes, the whole spirit of the face, betokened reflection and acuteness, and Eachel wanted to attain to her opinions ; but beyond a certain depth there was no reaching. Her ways of thinking, her views of the chil- dren's characters, her estimate of INIr. Touchett — nay, even! her tastes as to the Invalid's letters in the "Traveller's Eeview," remained only partially revealed, in spite of Eachel's best efforts at fishing, and attempting to set the example. " It really seemed," as she observed to Grace, " as if the more I talk, the less she says." At which Grace gave way to a small short laugh, though she owned the force of Eachel's maxim, that to bestow confidence was the way to provoke it ; MACKAREL LANE. 67 and forbore to refer to a certain deliglitful afternoon that Eacliel, in lier cliildhood, liad spent alone witli a little girl whom she had never discovered to be deaf and dumb. Still Kachel had never been able to make out Avhy Grace, with no theories at all, got so many more confidences than she did. She Avas fully aware of her sister's superior attractiveness to common-place people, and made her welcome to stand first with the chief of their kindred, and most of the clergy and young ladies around. But it was hard that where Eachel really liked and met half-way, the intimate confidence should , ahvays be bestowed upon Grace, or even the mother. She had yet to learn that the way to draw out a snail is not to grasp its horns, and that halfway meeting is not to launch one's self to the opposite starting point. Either her inquiries were too point blank to invite detailed replies, or her own communications absorbed her too much to leave room for a return. Thus she told Miss Williams the whole story of the thrush's nest, and all her own reflections upon the character- istics it betokened ; and only afterwards, on thinking over the conversation, perceived that she had elicited nothing but that it was very difiicult to judge in such cases, not even any '. decided Assent to her own demonstrations. It was true that \ riots and breaches of the peace ceased while Miss Williams was in the house, and learning and good manners were being fast acquired ; but until Comrade's duplicity should be detected, or the whole disposition of the family discussed with herself, Eachel doubted the powers of the instructress. 4 It was true that Fanny was very happy with her, and only j^ regretted that the uncertainty of the Major's whereabouts pre- _ eluded his being informed of the newly-found treasure ; but .- Tanny was sure to be satisfied as long as her boys were happy -- p2 68 THE CLEVER WOMAN OF THE FAMILY. and not very naughty, and she cared very little ahout people's minds. If any one did " get on " with the governess it was Grace, who had heen the first acquaintance in the family, and met her often in the service of the parish, as well as in her official character at the Homestead. It so chanced that one Sunday afternoon they found themselves simultaneously at the door of the school-house, whence issued not the customary hum, hut loud sounds of singing. *' Ah ! " said Grace, " Mr. Touchett was talking of getting the choir master from Avoncester, and giving up an afternoon to practice for Easter, but he never told me it was to be to-day." On inquiry, it appeared that notice had been given in the morning, but not till after Miss Williams had gone home to fetch her little niece, and while Eachel was teaching her boys in the class-room out of hearing. It was one of the little bits of bad management that Tvere sure to happen wherever poor Mr. Touchett was concerned ; and both ladies feeling it easy to overlook for themselves, "were thankful that it had not befallen Eachel. Alison "Williams, thinking it far to walk either to the Homestead or Myrtlewood before church, proposed to Grace to come home with her, an offer that was thankfidly accepted, with merely the scruple whether she should disturb the invalid. " Oh, no, it would be a great pleasure ; I always wish we could get more change and variety for her on Sunday." " She is very self-denj'ing to spare you to the school." " I have often "washed to give it up, but she never will let me. She says it is one of the few things we can do, and I see besides that it brings her fresh interests. She kno"ws about all my class, and works for them, and has them to see i\ MACKAREL LANE. 69 her ; and I am sui-e it is better for her, though it leaves her more hours alone with Eose." " And the Sunday services are too long for her 1 " " Not so much that, as that she cannot sit on those narrow benches unless two are put close together so that she can almost lie, and there is not room for her chair in the aisle on a Sunday. It is the greatest deprivation of all." " It is so sad, and she is so patient and so energetic," said Grace, using her favourite monosyllable in peace, out of Eachel's hearing. " You would say so, indeed, if you really knew her, or how she has found strength and courage for me through all the terrible suffering." " Then does she suffer so much 1 " " Oh, no, not now ! That was in the first years." " It was not always so." " 1^0, indeed ! You thought it deformity ! Oh, no, no ! she was so beautiful." " That she is still. I never saw my sister so much struck with any one. There is something so striking in her bright glance out of those clear eyes." " Ah ! if you had only seen her bloom before " " The accident 1 " " I burnt her," said Alison, almost inaudibly. " You ! you, poor dear ! How dreadful for you." " Yes, I burnt her," said Alison, more steadily. " You ought not to be kind to me without knowing about it. It was an accident of course, but it was a fit of petulance. I threw a match without looking where it was going." " It must have been when you were very young." " Foiu'teen. I was in a naughty fit at her refusing to go to 70 THE CLEVER WOMAN OF THE FAMILY, the great musical meeting with lis. We always used to go to stay at one of the canon's houses for it, a house where one was dull and shy ; and I could not bear going without her, nor understand the reason." " And was there a reason 1 " " Yes, poor dear Ermine. She knew he meant to come there to meet her, and she thought it would not he right ; because his father had objected so strongly, and made him exchange into a regiment on foreign service." " And you did not know this 1 " " jSTo, I was away all the time it was going on, with my eldest sister, having masters in London. I did not come home till it was all over, and then I could not understand what was the matter Avith the house, or why Ermine was unlike herself, and papa restless and anxious about her. They thought me too young to be told, and the atmosphere made me cross and fretful, and papa was displeased with me, and Ermine tried in vain to make me good ; poor patient Ermine, even then the chief sufferer ! " " I can quite imagine the discomfort and fret of being in ignorance all the time." " Dear Ermine says she longed to tell me, but she had been forbidden, and she went on blaming -herself and trying to make me enjoy my holidays as usual, till this dreadful day, when I had worried her intolerably about going to this music meeting, and she found reasoning only made me worse. She still wrote her note of refusal, and asked me to light the taper; I dashed down the match in a frenzy of temper and " She paused for breath, and Grace squeezed her hand. "We did not see it at first, and then she threw herself MACKAREL LANE. 71. down and ordered me not to come near. Every one was there directly, I believe, but it burst out again and again, and was not ]3ut out till they all tliougbt she had not an hour to live. There was no pain, and there she lay, all calraness, comforting us all, and making papa and Edward promise to forgive me — me, who only wished they would kill me ! And the next day he came; he was just going to sail, and they thought nothing would hurt her then. I saw him while he was waiting, and never did I see such a fixed deathly face. But they said she found words to cheer and soothe him." " And what became of him 1 " " We do not know. As long as Lady Alison lived (his aunt) she let us hear about him, and we knew he was re- covering from his wound. Then came her death, and then my father's, and all the rest, and we lost sight of the Eeau- champs. We saw the name in the Gazette as killed at Luck- now, but not the right Christian name nor the same rank ; but then, though the regiment is come home, we have heard nothing of him, and though she has never spoken of him to me, I am sure Ermine believes he is dead, and thinks of him as part of the sunshine of the old Beauchamp days — the sunsliine whose reflection lasts one's life." " He ought to be dead," said Grace. " Yes, it would be better for her than to hear anything else of him ! He had nothing of his own, so there would have been a long waiting ; but his father and brother would not hear of it, and accused us of entrapping him, and that angered my father. Eor our family is quite good, and we were very well off then. My father had a good private fortune besides the Rectory at Beauchamp ; and Lady Alison, who had been like a mother to us ever since our own died, 72 THE CLEVER WOMAN OF THE FAMILY. quite tliouglit that the prospect was good enough, and I "believe got into a great scrape with her family for having promoted the affair." " Your squire's wife 1 " " Yes, and Julia and Ermine had come every day to learn lessons with her daughters. I was too young ; but as long as she lived we were all like one family. Hoav kind she was ! How she helped us through those frightful weeks ! " " Of your sister's illness 1 It must have lasted long 1 " " Long 1 Oh longer than long ! !N'o one thought of her living. The doctors said the injury was too extensive to leave any power of rallying ; but she was young and strong, and did not die in the torture, though people said that such an existence as remained to her was not worth the anguish of struggling back to it. I tliink my father only prayed that she might suffer less, and Julia stayed on and on, thinking each day would be the last, till Dr. Long could not spare her any longer; and then Lady Alison nursed her night after night and day after day, tdl she had worn herseK into an illness, and when the doctors spoke of improvement, we only perceived worse agony. It was eight months before she "was even lifted up in bed, and it was years before the burns ceased to be painful or the constitution at all -recovered the shock ; and even now weather tells on her, though since we have lived here she has been far better than I ever dared to hope." " Then you consider her stdl recovering ? " " In general health she is certainly greatly restored, and has strength to attempt more, but the actual injury, the con- traction, can never be better than now. Wlien we lived at Eichmond she had constantly the best ad\ice, and we were told that nothing more could be hoped for." MACKAREL LANE. 73 " I wonder more and more at her high spirits. I suppose that was what chiefly helped to carry her through ? " " I have seen a good many people," said Alison, pausing, " but I never did see any one so happy ! Others are always wanting something ; she never is. Every enjoyment seems to be tenfold to her what it is to other people ; she sees the hopefid side of every sorrow. 'No burthen is a burthen when one has carried it to her." As Alison spoke, she pushed open the narrow green door of the little lodging-house, and there issued a weak, sweet sound of voices : " The strain upraise of joy and praise." It was the same that had met their ears at the school-door, but the want of body in the voices was fully compensated by the heartfelt ring, as if here indeed was praise, not practice. " Aunt Ailie ! Aunt Ailie ! " cried the child, as the room-door o]Dened and showed the little choir, consisting of herself, her aunt, and the small maid of the house, " you should not have come ; you were not to hear us till Trinity Sunday." Explanations were given, and Miss Curtis was welcomed, but Alison, still too much moved for ordinary conversation, slipped into the bedroom adjoining, followed by her sister's quick and anxious eye, and half-uttered inquiry. " I am afraid it is my fault," said Grace; *' she has been telling me about your accident." " Poor Ailie," said Ermine, " she never will receive kind- ness without having that unlucky story out ! It is just one of the things that get so cruelly exaggerated by consequences. It was one moment's petulance that might have caused a fright and been forgotten ever after, but for those chemicals. Ah ! I see, she said nothing about them, because they were 74 THE CLEVER WOMAN OF THE FAMILY. Edward's. They were some parcels for his experiments, gun cotton and the like, which were lying in the window till he had time to take them upstairs. We had all been so long threatened with being blo^vn up by his experiments that we had grown callous and careless, and it served us right ! " she added, stroking the child's face as it looked at her, earnest to glean fresh fragments of the terrible haK-known tale of the past. " Yes, Eosie, when you go and keep house for papa on the top of the Oural Mountains, or wherever it may be, you are to remember that if Aunt Ermine had not been in a foolish, inattentive mood, and had taken his dangerous goods out of the way, she might have been trotting to church now like other people. But poor Ailie has always helped herself to the Avhole blame, and if every childish fit of temper were the root of such qualities, what a world we should have here ! " " Ah ! no wonder she is devoted to you." " The child was not fifteen, had never known cross or care, but from that moment she never ^vas out of my room if it was possible to be in ; and when niu?se after nurse was fairly worn out, because I could not help being so distressing, there was always that poor child, always handy and helpful, grow- ing to be the chief dependence, and looking so piteously imploring whatever was tried, that it really helped me to go through with it. Poor Ailie," she added with an odd turn of playfulness, "I always fancied those frowTis of anxiety made her eyebrows grow together. And ever since we came here, we know how she has worked away for her old cinder and her small Eosebud, don't weT' she added, playfidly squeezing the child's cheeks up into a more budding look, hiding deeper and more overcoming feelings by the sportive MACKAREL LANE. 75 action. And as lier sister came back, she looked up and shook her head at her, saying, — " You gossiping Ailie, to go ripping up old grievances. I am going to ask Miss Curtis not to let the story go any further, now you have relieved your mind of it." " I did tell Lady Temple," said Alison ; " I never think it right not to let people know what sort of person they have to teach their children." And Grace, on feeling her way, discovered that Lady Temple had been told the bare fact in Miss Williams's Preserved and business-like manner, but with nothing of the I affair that had led to it. She merely looked on it in the manner fully expressed by — " All, poor thing j how sad for her ! " as a shocking secret, never to be talked of or thought about. And that voluntary detailed relation from Alison could only be regarded as drawn forth by Grace's own in- dividual power of winning confidence, and the friendliness that had so long subsisted between them. ISTor indeed was the reserve regarding the cause of the present reduced cir- cmnstances of the sisters at all lessened j it was only known that their brother had ruined them by a fraudulent specu- lation, and had then fled to the Continent, leaving them biu?thened with the maintenance of his child, but that they refused to believe in his guilt, and had thus incurred the displeasure of other relatives and friends. Alison was utterly silent about him. Ermine seemed to have a tender pleasure in bringing in a reference to his ways as if all were well, and it were a matter of course to speak of '' Edward ; " but it was plain that Ermine's was an outspoken nature. This might, however, be only because the one had been a guarded, sheltered invalid, while the other had gone forth among 76 THE CLEVER WOMAN OF THE FAMILY. strangers to battle for a livelihood, and moreover, the elder sister had been fully grown and developed before the shock which had come on the still unformed Alison. At any rate, nobody but Grace " got on " with the governess, while the invalid made friends with all who visited her, and most signally with Eachel, who, ere long, esteemed her enliven- ment a good work, worthy of herself. The chanty of sitting with a twaddling, muffatee-knitting old lady was indisputable, but it Avas perfectly Avithin Grace's capacity ; and Eachel be- lieved herself to be far more capable of entertaining the sick Miss Williams, nor was she mistaken. When excited or interested, most people thought her oppressive ; but Ermine Williams, except when unwell, did not find her so, and even then a sharp debate was sometimes a cure for the nervous ailments induced by the monotony of her life. They seemed to have a sort of natural desire to rub their minds one against the other,, and Eachel could not rest without Miss Williams's opinion of all that interested her — paper, essay, book, or event; but often, when expecting to confer a favour by the loan, she found that what was new to her was already well known in that little parlour, and even the authorship no mystery. Ermine explained this by her correspondence with literary friends of her brother's, and country-bred Eachel, to whom literature was still an oracle unconnected with liviusr agencies, listened, yes, absolutely listened to her anecdotes of sayings and doings, far more like clever memoirs than the experiences of the banks of the Avon. Perhaps there was this immediate disadvantage, that hearing of a more intellectual tone of society tended to make Eachel less tolerant of that which surrounded her, and especially of Mr. Touchett. It was di*oU that, having so long shimned the two sistei-s under the MxiCKAREL LANE. 77 impression that they were his protegees and worshippers, she found that Ermine's point of view was quite the rectorial one, and that to venerate the man for his office sake was nearly as hard to Ermine as to herself, though the office was more esteemed. Alison, the reserved, had held her tongue on his antecedents ; but Ermine was drawn into explaining that his father had been a minor canon, who had eked out his means with a combination of chaplaincies and parts of curacies, and by teaching at the school where his son was educated. Indignant at the hack estimation in which his father had been held, the son, far more justly viewing both the dignity and duty of his office, was resolved to be respected ; but bred up in second- rate society, had neither weight, talent, nor manners to veil his aggressive seK-assertion, and he was at this time especially trying to the Curtises. Cathedral music had been too natural to him for the endurance of an unchoral service, and the prime labour of his life was to work up his choir ; but he was musical by education rather than nature, and having begun his career with such mortal offence to the native fiddlers and singers as to impel them into the arms of dissent, he could only supply the loss from the school by his own voice, of which he was not chary, though using it with better will than taste. The staple of his choir were Eachel's scholars. Her turn had always been for boys, and her class on Sunday mornings and two evenings in the week had long been in operation before the reign of Mr. Touchett. Then two lads, whose paternal fiddles had seceded to the Plymouth Brethren, were suspended from all advantages by the curate, and Eachel was with difficulty withheld from an explosion ; but even this was less 78 THE CLEVER WOMAN OF THE FAMILY. annoying than the summons at the class-room door every Sunday morning, that, in the midst of her lesson, carried off the chief of her scholars to practise their chants. Moreover, the blame of all imperfect lessons was laid on the " singing for the parson," and all faults in the singing hy the tasks for Miss Eachel ; and one night, the excellent Zack excused his failure in geography by saying that Mr. Touchett had thrown away his book, and said that it was no better than sacrilege, omitting, however, to mention that he had been caught studying it under his surplice during the lessons. At last, with his usual fatality, the curate fixed the grand practice for the Saturday evenings that were Eachel's great days for instruction in the three E's, and for a sort of popular lecture. Cricket was to succeed the singing, and novelty carried the day; but only by the desertion of her scholars did Eachel learn the new arrangement, and she could hardly credit the assertion that the curate was not aware that it was her day. In fact, it was the only one when the fisher lads were sure not to be at sea, and neither party would yield it. Mr. Touchett was determined not to truckle to dictation from the great house ; so when Eachel declared she would have nothing to do with the boys unless the Saturdays were con- ceded to her, he owned that he thought the clergyman had the first right to his lads, and had only not claimed them before out of deference for the feelings of a well-meaning parishioner. Both parties poured out their grievances to the same auditor, for Mr. Touchett regarded Ermine Williams as partly clerical, and Eachel could never be easy without her symj)athy. To hear was not, however, to make peace, while each side was so sore, so conscious of the merits of its own MACKAREL LANE. 79 case, so blind to tliose of the other. One deemed praise in its highest form the prime object of his ministry ; the other found the performance indevotional, and raved that education should be sacrificed to wi^etched music. But that the dis- sension was sad and mischievous, it would have been very diverting ; they were both so young in their incapacity of making allowances, their certainty that theirs was the theory to bring in the golden age, and even in their magnanimity of forgiveness ; and all the time they thought themselves so very old. " I am resigned to disappointments ; I have seen something of life." — "You forget. Miss Williams, that my ministerial experience is not very recent." There was one who would have smoothed matters far better than any, who, like Ermine, took her weapons from the armoury of good sense ; but that person was entirely unconscious how the incumbent regarded her soft eyes, meek pensiveness, motherly sweetness, and, above all, the refined graceful dignity that remained to her from the leading station she had occupied. Her gracious respect towards her clergy- man was a contrast as much to the deferential coquetry of his admirers as to the abruptness of his foe, and her indif- ference to parish details had even its charm in a world of fussiness ; he did not know himself how far a wish of hers would have led him, and she was the last person to guess. She viewed him, like all else outside her nursery, as some- thing out of the focus of her eyej her instinct regarded her clergyman as necessarily good and worthy, and her ear heard Eachel railing at him; it sounded hard, but it was a pity Eachel should be vexed and interfered with. In fact, she never thought of the matter at all; it was only part of that outer kind of dreamy stage-play at Avonmouth, in which she 80 THE CLEVER WOMAN OF THE FAMILY. let herself be moved about at her cousin's bidding. One part of her life had passed away from her, and what remained to her was among her children ; her interests and intelligence seemed contracted to Conrade's horizon, and as to every- thing else, she was subdued, gentle, obedient, but slow and obtuse. Yet, little as he knew it, Mr. Touchett might have even asserted his authority in a still more trying manner. J£ the gentle little widow had not cast a halo round her relatives, he could have preached that sermon upon the home-keeping duties of women, or have been too much offended to accept any service from the Curtis family; and he could have done without them, for he had a wide middle-class popularity; his manners with the second-rate society, in which he had been bred, were just sufficiently superior and flattering to recom- mend all his best points, and he obtained plenty of subscrip- tions from visitors, and of co-operation from inhabitants. Many a young lady was in a flutter at the approach of the spruce little figure in black, and so many volunteers were there for parish work, that districts and classes were divided and subdivided, tOl it sometimes seemed as if the only difficulty was to find poor people enough who would submit to serve as the corpus vile for their charitable treatment. Tor it was not a really poor population. The men were seafaring, the women lacemaking, and just well enough off to make dissent doubly attractive as an escape from some of the interfering almsgiving of the place. Over-^'isiting, criticism of dress, and inquisitorial examinations had made more than one Primitive Methodist, and no severe distress had been so recent as to render the women tolerant of troublesome weekly inspections. The Curtis sisters were, however, regarded as MACKAREL LANE. 81 an exception ; they were viewed as real gentlefolks, not only by their own tenants, but by all who were conscious of their hereditary claims to respect ; they did not care whether hair were long or short, and their benefits were more substantial and reliable than could be looked for from the casual visitors and petty gentry around, so that sundry houses that were forbidden ground to district visitors, were ready to grant them a welcome. One of these belonged to the most able lacemaker in the place, a hard-working woman, who kept seven little pupils in a sort of cupboard under the staircase, with a window into the back garden, " because," said she, " they did no work if they looked out into the front, there were so many gapsies ;" these gapsies consisting of the very scanty traffic of the further end of Mackarel Lane. For ten hours a day did these children work in a space just wide enough for them to sit, with the two least under the slope of the stairs, permitted no distraction from their bobbins, but invaded by their mistress on the faintest sound of tongues. Into this hotbed of sprigs was admitted a child who had been a special favourite at school, an orphan niece of the head of the establishment. The two brothers had been lost together at sea ; and while the one widow became noted for her lace, the other, a stranger to the art, had main- tained herseK by small millinery, and had not sacrificed her little girl to the Moloch of lace, but had kept her at school to a later age than usual in the place. But the mother died, and the orphan was at once adopted by the aunt, with the resolve to act the truly kind part by her, and break her in to lacemaking. That determination was a great blow to the school visitors j the girls were in general so young, VOL. I. G 82 THE CLEVER WOMAN OF THE FAMH^Y. or SO stupefied with their work, that an intelligent girl like Lovedy Kelland was no small treasure to them ; there were designs of making her a pupil teacher in a few years, and offers and remonstrances rained in upon her aunt. But they had no effect ; Mrs. Kelland was persuaded that the child had heen spoilt by learning, and in truth poor Lovedy was a refractory scholar ; she was too lively to bear the confine- ment patiently ; her mind was too much awake not to rebel against the didness, and her fingers had not been brought into training early enough. Her incessant tears spoilt her thread, and Mrs. Kelland decided that " she'd never get her bread till she was broke of her buke;" which breaking was attempted by a summary pawning of all poor Lovedy's reward books. The poor child confided her loss to her young lady teacher at the Sunday school ; the young lady, being new, young, and inflammable, reproached Mrs. Kelland with dis- honesty and tyranny to the orphan, and in return was nearly frightened out of her wits by such a scolding as only such a woman as the lace mistress could deliver. Then INIr. Touchett tried his hand, and though he did not meet with quite so much violence, all he heard was that she had " given Lovedy the stick for being such a little tod as to complain, when she knew the money for the bukes was put safe away in her money-box. She was not going to the Sunday schule again, not she, to tell stories against her best friends ! " Ami when the next district visitor came that way, the door was shut in her face, "with the tract throwTi out at the opening, and an intimation in Mrs. Kelland's shrill voice, that no more bukes were wanted ; she got plenty from Miss Curtis. These bukes from Miss Curtis were sanatory tracts, which Rachel was constantly besto^ving, and which on Sundavs MACKAREL LANE. 83 Mrs. Kelland spelt through, with her finger under the line, in happy ignorance whether the subject were temporal or spiritual, and feeling herself in the exemplary discharge of a Sunday duty. Moreover, old feudal feeling made Eachel be unmolested when she came do^vn twice a week, opened the door of the blackhole under the stairs, and read aloud something religious, something improving, and a bit of a story, following it up by mental arithmetic and a lesson on objects, which seemed to" Mrs. Kelland the most arrant non- sense in the world, and to her well-broken scholars was about as interesting as the humming of a blue-bottle fly; but it was poor Lovedy's one enjoyment, though making such havoc of her work that it was always expiated by extra hours, not on her pillow, but at it. These visits of Rachel were considered to encourage the Kelland refractoriness, and it was officially intimated that it would be wise to discontinue them, and that " it was thought better" to withdraw from Mrs. Kelland all that direct patron- age of her trade, by which the ladies had enabled her to be in some degree independent of the middle-men, who absorbed so much of the profit from the workers. Grace and Rachel, sufficiently old inhabitants to remember the terrible wreck that had left her a struggling widow, felt this a hard, not to say a vindictive decision. They had long been a kind of agents for disposing of her wares at a distance ; and, feeling that the woman had received provocation, Grace was not disposed to give her up, while Rachel loudly averred that neither Mr. Touchett nor any of his ladies had any right to interfere, and she should take no notice. " But," said Grace, " can we run counter to oiu? clergy- man's direct wishes ? " g2 84: THE CLEVER WOMAN OF THE FAMILY. " Yes, when he steps out of his province. My deai Grace, you grew up in the days of curatolatry, but it won't do ; men are fallible even when they preach in a surplice, and you may be thankful to me that you and Fanny are not both led along in a string in the train of Mr. Touchett's devotees ! " "I wish I knew what was right to do," said Grace,! quietly ; and she remained wishing it after Rachel had said a great deal more ; but the upshot of it was, that one day when Grace and Fanny were walking together on the espla- nade, they met !Mr. Touchett, and Grace said to him, " "VTe have been thinking it over, and we thought, perhaps, you would not wish us not to give any orders to Mrs. Kelland. I know she has behaved very ill ; but I don't see how she is to get on, and she has this child on her hands." " I know," said Mr. Touchett j " but really it was flagrant." " Oh," said Lady Temple, gently, " I dare say she didn't mean it, and you could not be hard on a widow." " Well," said Mr. Touchett, " Miss Brown was very much put out, and — and — it is a great pity about the child ; but I never thought myseK that such strong measures would do any good." " Then you "will not object to her being employed 1 " " No, not at all. From a distance, -it is not the same thing as close at home j it won't be an example." " Thank you," said Grace ; and*" I am so glad," said Lady Temple ; and Mr. Touchett went on his way, lightened of his fear of having let his zealous coadjutors oppress the hard-working, and far more brightened by the sweet smde of requital, but all the time doubtful whether he had been weak. As to the •\dctory, Rachel only laughed, and said, MACKAREL LANE. 85 " If it made Grace more comfortable, it was well, except for that acknowledgment of Mr. Toucliett's jurisdiction." A few days after, Eachel made her appearance in Mackarel Lane, and announced her intention of consulting Ermine Williams under seal of secresy. " I have an essay that I wish you to judge of hefore I send it to the ' Traveller.' " " Indeed ! " said Ermine, her colour rising. " "Would it not be better " " Oh, I know what you mean, but don't scruple on that score. At my age, with a mother like mine, it is simply to avoid teasing and excitement that I am silent." " I was going to say I was hardly a fair " " Because of your different opinions ? But those go for nothing. You are a worthy antagonist, and enter into my views as my mother and sister cannot do, even while you oppose them." " But I don't think I can help you, even if " " I don't want help ; I only want you to judge of the composition. In fact, I read it to you that I may hear it myseK." Ermine resigned herself. " ' Curatolatry is a species ' " " I beg your pardon." " Curatolatry. Ah ! I thought that would attract attention." " But I am afraid the scholars would fall foul of it." " Why, have not they just made Mariolatry ? " " Yes ; but they are very severe on hybrids between Latin and Greek." "It is not worth while to boggle at trifles when one has an expressive term," said Rachel; "if it turns into English, that is all that is wanted." 86 THE CLEVER WOMAN OF THE FAMILY. " Would it not be rather a pity if it should turn into English 1 Might it not be hard to brand with a contemp- tuous name w^hat does more good than harm 1 " " That sickly mixture of flirtation and hero worship, with' a religious daub as a salve to the conscience." " Laugh it down, and what do you leave 1 In !Miss Austen's time silly girls ran to balls after militiamen ; now, if they run to schools and charities more for the curate's sake than they quite know, is not the alternative better 1 " "It is greater humbug," said Eachel. "But I knew you would not agree, at least beforehand ; it is appreciation that I want." Xever did Madame de Genlis make a cleverer hit than in the reading of the Genius Phanor's tragedy in the Palace of Truth. Comically absurd as the inconsistency is of trans- porting the lecture of a Parisian academician into an en- chanted palace, full of genii and fairies of the remotest possible connexion with the Arab Jinn, the whole is redeemed by the truth to nature of the sole dupe in the Palace of Truth being the author reading his own works. Ermine was thinking of him all the time. She was under none of the constraint of Phanor's auditors, though she carried a per- petual palace of truth about with her ; she woidd not have had either fears or compunctions in criticising, if she could. The jDaper was in the essay style, between argument and sarcasm, something after the model of the Invalid's Letters ; but it was scarcely lightly touched enough, the irony was wormwood, the gra^dty heavy and sententious, and where there was a just thought or happy liit, it seemed to travel in a road-waggon, and be lost in the rumbling of the wheels. Ermine did not restrain a smile, half of amusement, half MACIiiVREL LANE. 87 of relief, at the self-antidote the paper contained; but the smile passed with the authoress as a tribute to her satire. " In this age," she said, " we must use those lighter weapons of wit, or no one will attend." " Perhaps," said Ermine, " if I api3rove your object, I should tell you you don't use them lightly." " Ah ! but I know you don't approve it. You are not lay woman enough to be impartial, and you belong to the age that was trying the experiment of the hierarchy modified ; I to that which has found it will not do. But at least you understand my view ; I have made out my case." " Yes, I understand your view ; but " " You don't sympathize. Of course not ; but when it receives its full weight from the printer's hands, you will see that it will tell. That bit about the weak tea fumes I thought of afterwards, and I am afraid I did not read it weU." " I remember it j but forgive me if I say first I tliink the whole is rather too — too lengthy to take." " Oh, that is only because manuscript takes long to read aloud. I counted the words, so I can't be mistaken; at least I counted twenty lines, and multiplied ; and it is not so long as the Invalid's last letter about systematic reading." "And then comes my question again. Is good to come of it?" " That I can't expect you to see at this time ; but it is to be the beginning of a series, exposing the fallacies of woman's life as at present conducted; and out of these I mean to point the way to more consistent, more independent, better combined exertion. If I can make myseK useful with my pen, it will compensate for the being debarred from so many 88 THE CLEVER WOMAN OF THE FAMILY. more obvious outlets. I should like to have as much influence over people's minds as that Invalid for instance, and by earnest effort I know I shall attain it." " I — I — " half-laughing and blushing, " I hope you will, for I know you would wish to use it for good ; but, to speak plainly, I doubt about the success of this effort, or — or if it ought to succeed." " Yes, I know you do," said Eachel. " ]N'o one ever can judge of a manuscript. You have done all I wished you to do, and I value your sincerity. Of course I did not expect praise, since the more telling it is on the opposite side, the less you could like it. I saw you appreciated it." And Eachel departed, while Eose crept up to her aunt, asking, " Aunt Ermine, why do you look so very funny ? It was very tiresome. Are not you glad it is over 1 " " I was thinking, Eose, what a difficult language plain English is sometimes." " "What, Miss Eachel's ? I coiddn't understand one bit of her long story, except that she did not like weak tea." " It was my own that I meant," said Ermine. " But, Eose, always remember that a person who stands plain sj)eaking from one like me has something very noble and generous in her. Were you here aU the time, Eosie '? I don't wonder you were tired." " No, Aunt Ermine, I went and told Yioletta and Augustus a fairy tale out of my own head." " Indeed ; and how did they like it 1 " " Yioletta looked at me all the time, and Augustus gave three winks, so I think he liked it." " Appreciated it ! " said Aunt Ermine. ^ THE HEKO. 89 CHAPTEE IV. THE HERO. " And wliich is Lucy's ? Can it he That puny fop, armed cap-a-pie, "Who loves in the saloon to show The arms that never knew a foe." — Scott, " My lady's compliments, ma'am, and she would be much obliged if you would remain till she comes home," was Coombe's reception of Alison. " She is gone to Avoncester with Master Temple and Master Francis." " Gone to Avoncester ! " exclaimed Eachel, who had walked from church to Myrtlewood with Alison. " Mamma is gone to meet the Major ! " cried three of the lesser boys, rushing upon them in full cry; then Leoline, facing round, " l!^ot the major, he is lieutenant-colonel now — Colonel Keith, hurrah ! " " What — what do you mean ? Speak rationally, Leoline, if you can." " My lady sent a note to the Homestead this morning," explained Coombe. " She heard this morning that Colonel Keith intended to arrive to-day, and took the young gentle- men with her to meet him." Eachel could hardly refrain from manifesting her dis- pleasure, and bluntly asked what time Lady Temple was likely to be at home. 90 THE CLEVER WOMAN OF THE FAMILY. " It depended," 0001111)6 said, "upon the train; it was not certain whether Colonel Keith would come by the twelve or the two o'clock train." And Eachel was going to turn sharply round, and dash home with the tidings, when Alison arrested her mth the question — " And who is Colonel Keith ? " Eachel was too much ^vrapped up in her o^vn view to hear the trembling of the voice, and answered, " Colonel Keith ! why, the Major ! You have not been here so long without hearing of the Major 1 " " Yes j but I did not know. Who is he ? " And a more observant person would have seen the governess's gasping effort to veil her eagerness under her wonted self- control. " Don't you know who the Major is 1 " shouted Leoline. " He is our military secretary." " That's the simi total of my knowledge," said Eachel, " I don't understand his influence, nor know where he was picked up." " ISTor his regiment ? " " He is not a regimental officer ; he is on our staff," said Leoline, whose imagination could not attain to an earlier con- dition than " on our staff." " I shall go home, then," said Eachel, "and see if there is any explanation there." " I shall ask tlie Major not to let Aunt Eachel come here," observed Hubert, as she departed; it was well it was not before. " Leoline," anxiously asked Alison, " can you tell me the Major's name 1 " THE HERO. 91 " Colonel Keitli — Lieutenant-Colonel Keith," was all the answer. " I meant his Christian name, my dear." " Only little boys have Christian names ! " they returned, and Alison was forced to do her best to tame herself and them to the duties of the long day of antici^Dation so joyous on their part, so full of confusion and bewildered anxiety on her own. She looked in vain, half stealthily, as often before, for a recent Army List or Peerage. Long ago she had lost the Honourable Colin A. Keith from among the officers of the — th Highlanders, and though in the last Peerage she had laid hands on he was still among the surviving sons of the late Lord Keith, of Gowanbrae, the date had not gone back far enough to establish that he had not died in the Indian war. It was fear that predominated with her; there were many moments when she would have given worlds to be secure that the new comer was not the man she thought of, who, whether constant or inconstant, could bring nothing but pain and disturbance to the calm tenour of her sister's life. Everything was an oppression to her; the children, in their wild, joyous spirits and gladsome inatten- tion, tried her patience almost beyond her powers; the charge of the younger ones in their mother's absence was burthen- some, and the delay in returning to her sister became weU- nigh intolerable, when she figured to herself Eachel Curtis going down to Ermine with the tidings of Colonel Keith's arrival, and her oa\ti discontent at his influence with her cousin. Would that she had spoken a word of warning ; yet that might have been merely miscliievous, for the subject was surely too delicate for Eachel to broach "with so recent a friend. But Eachel had bad taste for anything ! That the 92 THE (CLEVER TTOMAN OF THE PAiULY. little boys did not find Miss Williams very cross tliat day was an effect of the long habit of self-control, and she could hardly sit still under the additional fret, when, just as tea was spread for the school-room party, in walked Miss Eachel, and sat herself down, in spite of Hubert, who made up a most coaxing, entreating face, as he said, "Please, Aunt Eachel, doesn't Aunt Grace want you very much ? " " :N'ot at aU. Why, Hubert 1 " " Oh, if you would only go away, and not spoil our fun when the Major comes." For once Eachel did laugh, but she did not take the hint, and Alison obtained only the satisfaction of hearing that she had at least not been in Mackarel Lane. The wheels sounded on the gravel, out rushed the boys ; Alison and Eachel sat in strange, absolute silence, each forgetful of the other, neither guarding her own looks, nor remarking her companion's. Alison's lips were parted by intense listening ; Eachel's teeth were set to receive her enemy. There was a chorus of voices in the hall, and something about tea and coming in warned both to gather up their looks before Lady Temple had opened the door, and brought in upon them not one foe, but two ! Was Eachel seeing double 1 Hardly that, for one was tall, bald, and bearded, not dangerously young, but on that very account the more dangerously good-looking; and the other was almost a boy, slim and light, just of the empty young officer t}^e. Here, too, was Fanny, flushed, excited, prettier and brighter than Eachel had seen her at all, waving an introduction with head and hand ; and the boys hanging- round the Major with deafening exclamations of welcome, in which they were speedily joined by the nursery detachment. Those greetings, those observations on groAvth and looks, THE HERO. 93 those glad, eager questions and answers, were like tlie wel- come of an integral part of tlie family; it was far more intimate and familiar than had been j)ossible with the Cur- tises after the long separation, and it was enough to have made the two spectators feel out of place, if such a sensation had been within Eachel's capacity, or if Alison had not been engaged with the tea. Lady Temple made a few explana- tions, sotto voce, to Alison, whom she always treated as though in dread of not being sufficiently considerate. " I do hope the children have been good ; I knew you would not mind ; I could not wait to see you, or I should have been too late to meet the train, and then he would have come by the coach; and it is such a raw east wind. He must be careful in this climate." " How warm and sunshiny it has been all day," said Eachel, by way of opposition to some distant echo of this whisper. " Sunshiny, but treacherous," answered Colonel Keith ; " there are cold gusts round corners. This must be a very sheltered nook of the coast." " Quite a different zone from Avoncester," said the youth. " Yes, delightful. I told you it was just what would suit you," added Fanny, to the colonel. " Some "winds are very cold here," interposed Eachel. " I always pity people who are imposed upon to think it a Mentone near home. They are choking our churchyard." " Yery inconsiderate of them," muttered the young man. " But what made you come home so late, Fanny 1 " said Eachel. Alison suspected a slight look of wonder on the part of both the officers at hearing their general's wife thus called to account ; but Fanny, taking it as a matter of coui'se. 94 THE CLEVER WOMAN OF THE FAMILY. answered, " We found that the — th was at Avoncester. I had no idea of it, and they did not know I was here ; so I went to call upon Mrs. Hammond, and Colonel Keith went to look for Alick, and we have hrought him home to dine." Fanny took it for granted that Eachel must know who Alick was, but she was far from doing so, though she remem- bered that the — th had been her uncle's regiment, and had been under Sir Stephen Temple's command in India at the time of the mutiny. The thought of Fanny's lapsing into military society was shocking to her. The boys were vocife- rating about boats, ponies, and all that had been deferred till the Major's arrival, and he was answering them kindly, but hushing the extra outcry less by word than sign; and his own lowered voice and polished manner — a manner that excessively chafed her as a sort of insult to the blunt, rapid ways that she considered as sincere and unaffected, a silkiness that no doubt had worked on the honest, simple general, as it was now working on the weak young widow. Anything was better than leaving her to such influence, and in pur- suance of the intention that Eachel had already announced at home, she in^dted herself to stay to dinner; and Fanny eagerly thanked her, for making it a little less dull for Colonel Keith and Alick. It was so good to come down and help. Certainly Fanny was an innocent creature, provided she was not spoilt, and it was a duty to guard her innocence. Alison "Williams escaped to her home, sure of nothing but that her sister must not be allowed to share her uncertainties ; and Lady Temple and her guests sat down to dinner. Eachel meant to have sat at the bottom and carved, as belonging to the house ; but Fanny motioned the Colonel to the place, observing, "It is so natural to see you there ! One only THE HERO. 95 wants poor Captain Dent at the other end. Do you know whether he has his leave 1 " Wherewith commenced a discussion of military friends — who had been heard of from Australia, who had been met in England, who was promoted, who married, who retired, &c., and all the quarters of the — th since its return from India two years ago ; Fanny eagerly asking questions and making remarks, quite at home and all animation, absolutely a different being from the subdued, meek little creature that Eachel had hitherto seen. Attempts were made to include Miss Curtis in the conversation by addressing anecdotes to her, and asking if she knew the places named ; but she had been to none, and the three old friends quickly fell into the swing of talk about what interested them. Once, however, she came down on them with, " What conclusion have you formed upon female emigration 1 " " ' His sister she went "beyond the seas, And died an old maid among black savagees.' That's the most remarkable instance of female emigration on record, isn't it ? " observed Alick. " What ; her dying an old maid 1 " said Colonel Keith. " I am not sure. Wholesale exportations of wives are spoiling the market." " I did not mean marriage," said Eachel, stoutly. " I am particularly anxious to know whether there is a field open to independent female labour." " All the superior young women seemed to turn nursery- maids," said the Colonel. " Oh," interposed Fanny, " do you remember that nice girl of ours who would marry that Orderly-Sergeant O'Donoghoe ? I have had a letter from her in such distress." 96 THE CLEVER WOMAN OF THE FAMILY. " Of course, the natural termination," said Alick, in his lazy voice. " And I thought you would tell me how to manage sending her some help," proceeded Fanny. " I could have helped you, Fanny. Won't an order do it 1 " " Not quite," said Fanny, a shade of a smile playing on her lip. "It is whether to send it through one of the officers or not. If Captain Lee is with the regiment, I know he would take care of it for her." So they plunged into another regiment, and Eachel decided that nothing was so wearisome as to hear triflers talk shop. There was no opportunity of calling Fanny to order after dinner, for she went off on her progress to all the seven cribs, and was only just returning from them when the gentlemen came in, and then she made room for the younger heside her on the sofa, saying, " ^N^ow, Alick, I do so want to hear about poor, dear little Bessie ; " and they began so low and con- fidentially, that Eachel wondered if her alarms were to be transferred from the bearded colonel to the dapper boy, or if, in very truth, she must deem poor Fanny a general coquette. Besides, a man must be contemptible who wore gloves at so small a party, when she did not. She had been whiling away the time of Fanny's absence by looking over the books on the table, and she did not regard the present company sufficiently to desist on their account. Colonel Keith began to turn over some numbers of the " Traveller " that lay near him, and presently looked up, and said, "Do you know who is the writer of this ? " " What is it 1 Ah ! one of the Invalid's essays. They strike every one ; but I. fancy the authorship is a gi-eat secret." THE HERO. 97 " You do not know it ? " " 'No, I wish. I did. Wluch. of them, are you reading ? * Country Walks.' That is not one that I care about, it is a mere hash of old recollections ; but there are some very sensible and superior ones, so that I have heard it sometimes doubted whether they are man's or woman's writing. For my part, I think them too earnest to be a man's ; men always play with their subject." " Oh, yes," said Fanny, " I am sure only a lady could have written anything so sweet as that about flowers in a sick-room ; it so put me in mind of the lovely flowers you used to bring me one at a time, when I was ill at Cape Town." There was no more sense to be had after those three once fell upon their reminiscences. That night, after having betrayed her wakefulness by a movement in her bed, Alison Williams heard her sister's voice, low and steady, saying, " Ailie, dear, be it what it may, guessing is worse than certainty." " Oh, Ermine, I hoped — I know nothing — I have nothing to teU." " You dread something," said Ermine ; " you have been striving for unconcern all the evening, my poor dear; but surely you know, Ailie, that nothing is so bad while we share it," " And I have frightened you about nothing." " ISTothing ! nothing about Edward?" '' Oh, no, no!" " And no one has made you uncomfortable ?" " No:' " Then there is only one thing that it can be, Ailie, and you need not fear to tell me that. I always knew that if he VOL. I. H 98 THE CLEVER WOMAN OF THE FAillLT. lived I must be prepared for it, and you would not have hesitated to tell me of his death." " It is not that, indeed it is not. Ermine, it is only this — that I found to-day that Lady Temple's major has the same name." " But you said she was come home. You must have seen him." " Yes, but I should not know him. I had only seen him once, remember, twelve years ago, and when I durst not look at him." " At least," said Ermine, quickly, " you can tell me what you saw to-day." " A Scotch face, bald head, dark beard, grizzled hair." " Yes I am grey, and he was five years older ; but he used not to have a Scotch face. Can you tell me about his eyes?" *' Dark," I think. " They were very dark blue, almost black. Time and climate must have left them alone. You may know him by those eyes, Ailie. And you could not make out anything about him?" " ^0, not even his Christian name nor his regiment. I had only the little ones and Miss Eachel to ask, and they knew nothing. I Avanted to keep this from you tOI I was sure, but you always find me out." "Do you think I couldn't see the misery you were in all the evening, jDoor child ? Eut now you have had it out, sleep, and don't be distressed." " But, Ermine, if you " " My dear, I am thankfid that nothing is amiss with you or Edward. Eor the rest, there is nothmg but patience. THE HERO. 99 Now, not another word ; you must not lose your sleep, nor take away my chance of any." How much, the sisters slept they did not confide to one another ; hut when they rose, Alison shook her head at her sister's heavy eyelids, and Ermine retorted with a reproachful smile at certain dark tokens of sleeplessness under Alison's eyes. " Xo, not the flowered flimsiness, please," she said, in the course of her toilette, " let me have the respectable grey silk." And next she asked for a drawer, whence she chose a little jSTuremberg horn brooch for her neck. "I know it is very silly," she said, " but I can't quite help it. Only one question, Adie, that I thought of too late. Did he hear your name 1 " " I think not. Lady Temple named nobody. But why did you not ask me last night ?" " I thought beginning to talk again would destroy your chance of sleep, and we had resolved to stop." " And, Ermine, if it be, what shall I do 1 " " Do as you feel right at the moment," said Ermine, after a moment's pause. " I cannot tell how it may be. I have been thinking over what you told me about ' the Major' and Lady Temple." " Oh, Ermine, what a reproof this is for that bit of gossip." " Not at all, my dear, the warning may be all the better for me," said Ermine, with a voice less steady than her words. "It is not what, under the circumstances, I could think likely in the Colin whom I knew ; but were it indeed so, then, Ailie, you had better say nothing about me, unless he found you out. "We would get employment elsewhere." " And I must leave you to the suspense aU day." h2 100 THE CLEVER WOMAN OF THE FAMILY. I " Much better so. The worst thing we could do would be to go on talking about it. It is far better for me to be left with my dear little unconscious companion." Alison tried to comfort herself "svith this belief through the long hours of the morning, during which she only heard that mamma and Colonel Keith were gone to the Homestead, and she saw no one till she came forth with her troop to the midday meaL | Ajid there, at sight of Lady Temple's content and calm, satisfied look, as though she were once more in an accustomed atmosphere, and felt herself and the boys protected, and of the Colonel's courteous attention to her and affectionate authority towards her sons, it was an absolute pang to recog- nise the hue of eye described by Ermine ; but still Alison tried to think them generic Keith eyes, till at length, amid the merry chatter of her pupils, came an appeal to " INIiss Williams," and then came a look that thrilled through lier, the same glance that she had met for one terrible moment twelve years before, and renewing the same longing to slu^ink from all sight or sound. How she kept her seat and con- tinued to attend to the children she never knew, but the voices sounded like a distant Babel ; and she did not know whether she were most relieved, disaj)pointed, or indignant when she left the dining-room to take the boys for their walk. Oh, that Ermine could be hid from all knowledge of what would be so much harder to bear than the death in which she had long believed ! Harder to bear? Yes, Ermine had already been passing through a heart sickness that made the morning like an age. Her resolute will had struggled hard for composure, cheer- fulness, and occupation ; but the little watchful niece had THE HERO. 101 seen througli tlie endeavour, and had made lier own to the sleepless night and the headache. The usual remedy was a drive in a wheeled chair, and Eose was so urgent to be allowed to go and order one, that Ermine at last yielded, partly because she had hardly energy enough to turn her refusal graciously, partly because she would not feel herself staying at home for the vague hope ; and when the child was out of sight, she had the comfort of clasping her hands, and ceasing to restrain her countenance, while she mur- mured, " Oh, CoKn, Colin, are you what you were twelve years back'? Is this all dream, all delusion, and waste of feeling, while you are lying in your Indian grave, more mine than you can ever be living ! Be as it may, — *' * Calm me, my God, and keep me calm "Wliile these hot breezes blow ; Be like the night dew's cooling balm ' Upon earth's fevered brow. Calm mo, my God, and keep me calm. Soft resting on Thy breast ; Soothe me with holy hymn and psalm. And bid my spuit rest. ' " 102 THE CLEVER WOMAN OF THE FAMILY. CHAPTEE V. MILITARY SOCIETY. i I i " My trust Like a good parent did beget of him A falsehood in its contraiy as great As my trust was, which had indeed no limit." — Tempest. EosE found tlie wheeled cliair, to which, her aunt gave the preference, was engaged, and shaking her little discreet head at "the shakey chair" and "the stuffy chair," she tm-ned pensively homeward, and was speeding down Mackarel Lane, when she was stayed by the words, " My little girl I " and the grandest and most bearded gentleman she had ever seen, demanded, " Can you tell me if j\Iiss "Williams lives here ?" " My aunt ?" exclaimed Eose, gazing up with her pretty, frightened-fawn look. "Indeed!" he exclaimed, looking eagerly at her, "then you are the child of a very old friend of mine ! Did you never hear him speak of his old school-feUow, Colin Keith ?" " Papa is away," said Eose, turning back her neck to get a full view of his face from under the brim of her hat. " Will you run on and ask your aunt if she would like to see me?" he added. Thus it was that Ermine heard the quick patter of the child's steps, followed by the manly tread, and the words sounded in her ears, " Aunt Ermine, there's a gentleman, MILITARY SOCIETY. 103 and lie has a great heard, and lie says lie is j^a^pa's old friend ! And here he is." Ermine's heaming eyes as ahsoliitely met the new comer as though she had sprung forward. " I thought you would come," she said, in a voice serene with exceeding bliss. " I have found you at last," as their hands clasped ; and they gazed into each other's faces in the untroubled repose of the meeting, exclusive of all else. Ermine was the first to break silence. " Oh, Colin, you look worn and altered." "You don't; you have kept your sunbeam face for me with the dear brown glow I never thought to have seen again. Why did they tell me you were an invalid. Ermine V "Have you not seen Alison?" she asked, supposing he would have known all. " I saw her, but did not hear her name, till just now at luncheon, when our looks met, and I saw it was not another disappointment." " And she knows you are come to me ?" " It was not in me to speak to her till I had recovered you ! One can forgive, but not forget." " You will do more when you know her, and how she has only lived and worked for me, dear Ailie, and suffered far more than I " " "While I was suffering from being unable to do any tiling but live for 3^ou," he repeated, taking up her words; "but that is ended now " and as she made a negative motion. of her head, " have you not trusted to me ? " " I have thought you not living," she said ; " the last I know was your letter to dear Lady Alison, A\T.itten from the hospital at Cape Town, after your wound. She was ill 1C4 THE CLEVER WOMAN OF THE FAMILY. even when it came, and she could only give it to Ailie for me." " Dear good aunt, she got into trouble with all the family for our sake ; and when she was gone no one would give me any tidings of you." " It was her last disappointment that you were not sent home on sick leave. Did you get well too fast ? " " JS'ot exactly ; but my father, or rather, I believe, my brother, intimated that I should be welcome only if I had laid aside a certain foolish fancy, and as l}ing on my back had not conduced to that end, I could only say I woidd stay where I was." "And was it worse for you? I am sure, in spite of all that tanned skin, that your health has suffered. Ought you to have come home ? " " ]S^o, I do not know that London surgeons could have got at the ball," he said, putting his hand on his chest, " and it gives me no trouble in general. I was such a spectacle when I returned to duty, that good old Sir Stephen Temple, always a j)roverb for making his staff a refuge for the infirm, made me his aide-de-camp, and was like a father to me." " ISTow I see w^hy I never could find your name in any list of the officers in the moves of the regiment ! I gave you quite up when I saw no Keith among those that came home from India. I did believe then that you were the Colonel Alexander Keith whose death I had seen mentioned, though I had long trusted to his not being honourable, nor having your first name." " Ah ! he succeeded to the command after Lady Temple's father. A kind friend to me he was, and he left me in charge of his son and daughter. A very good and gallant MILITARY SOCIETY. 105 fellow is that young Alick. I must bring liim to see you some day " " Oh. ! I saw his name ; I reniemher ! I gloried in the doings of a Keith; but I was afraid he had died, as there was no such name with the regiment when it came home." " ISTo, he was almost shattered to pieces ; but Sir Stephen sent him up the hills to be nursed by Lady Temple and her mother, and he was sent home as soon as he could be moved. I was astonished to see how entirely he had recovered." " Then you went through all that Indian war 1 " " Yes ; with Sir Stephen." " You must show me all your medals ! How much you have to tell me ! And then 1 " " Just when the regiment was coming home, my dear old chief was appointed to the command in Australia, and insisted on my coming with him as military secretary. He had come to depend on me so much that I could not well leave him ; and five years there was the way to promotion and to claiming you at once. We were just settled there, when what I heard made me long to have decided otherwise, but I could not break with him then. I wrote to Edward, but had my letter returned to me." " No wonder ; Edward was abroad,, all connexion broken." " I wrote to Beauchamp, and he knew nothing, and I could only wait till my chief's time should be up. You know how it was cut short, and how the care of the poor little widow detained me till she was fit for the voyage. I came and sought you in vain in town. I went home, and found my brother lonely and dispirited. He has lost liis son, his daughters are married, and he and I are all the brothers left out of the six ! He was urgent that I should come 106 THE CLEVER WOMAN OF THE FAIillLY. and live v/ith. him and marr}'. I told him I would^ -with all my heart, when I had found you, and he saw I was too much in earnest to he opposed. Then I w^ent to Beauchamp, hut Harry knew nothing ahout any one. I tried to find out your sister and Dr. Long, hut heard they were gone to Belfast." " Yes, they lost a good deal in the crash, and did not like retr§nching among their neighhours ; so they went to Ireland, and there they have a flourishing practice." " I thought myself on my way there," he said, smiling ; " only I had first to settle Lady Temple, little guessing who was her treasure of a governess ! Last night I had nearly opened on another false scent ; I fell in with a description that I could have sworn was yours, of the heather hehind the parsonage. I made a note of the puhlisher in case all else had failed." " I'm glad you knew the scent of the th}Tne ! " " Then it w^as no false scent ? " " One must live, and I was thankful to do anything to lighten Ailie's hurthen. I wrote down that description that I might live in the place in fancy ; and one day, when the contrihution was wanted and I was hard up for ideas, I sent it, though I was loth to lay open that hit of home and heart." " WeU it might give me the sense of meeting you ! And in other papers of the series I traced your old self more ripened." " The editor was a friend of Edward's, and in our London days he asked me to "write letters on things in general, and when I said I saw the world through a key-hole, he answered that a circumscrihed view gained in distinctness. Most kind MILITARY SOCIETY. 107 and liolpful lio lias "been, and what began between sport and need to say out one's mind has come to be a resource for which we are very thankful. He sends us books for reviewal, and that is pleasant and improving, not to say profitable." " Little did I think you were in such straits ! " he said, stroking the child's head, and waiting as though her presence were a restraint on inquiries, but she eagerly availed herself of the pause. " Aunt Ermine, please what shall I say about the chairs 1 Will you have the nice one and Billy when they come home ? I was to take the answer, only you did talk so that I could not ask ! " " Thank you, my dear ; I don't want chairs nor anything else while I can talk so," she answered, smiling. " You had better take a run in the garden when you come back ; " and Rose replied with a nod of assent that made the colonel smile and say, " Good-bye then, my sweet Lady Discretion, some day we will be better acquainted." " Dear child," said Ermine, " she is our great blessing, and some day I trust will be the same to her dear father. Oh, Colin ! it is too much to hope that you have not believed what you must have heard ! And yet you wrote to him." " IS'ay, I could not but feel great distrust of what I heard, since I was also told that his sisters were unconvinced ; and besides, I had continually seen him at school the victim of other people's faults." " This is best of all," exclaimed Ermine, with glistening eyes, and hand laid upon his ; "it is the most comfortable word I have heard since it happened. Yes, indeed, many a time before I saw you, had I heard of ' Keith ' as the friend who saw him righted. Oh, Colin ! thanks, thanks for believing in him more than for all ! " 108 THE CLEVER WOMAN OF THE FA3IILY. " ^N'ot believing, but knoAving," lie answered — " kno^ving both you and Edward. Besides, is it not almost invariable that the inventor is ruined by his invention — a Prospero by nature 1 " " It was not the invention," she answered ; " that throve as long as my father lived." " Yes, he was an excellent man of business." " And he thought the concern so secure that there was no danger in embarking all the available capital of the family in it ; and it did bring us in a very good income. " I remember that it struck me that the people at home would find that they had made a mistake after all, and missed a fortune for me ! It was an invention for diminishing the fragility of glass under heat ; was it not 1 " " Yes, and the manufacture was very prosperous, so that my father was quite at ease about us. After his death we made a home for Edward in London, and looked after him when he used to be smitten with some new idea and forgot all sublunary matters. "\Ylien he married we went to live at Eichmond, and had his dear little 'svife very much with us, for she was a delicate tender creature, half killed by London. In process of time he fell in with a man named Maddox, plausible and clever, avIio became a sort of manager, especially while Edward was in his trances of invention ; and at all times knew more about his accounts than he did himself. JSTotliing but my father's authority had ever made him really look into them, and this man took them all off liis hands. There was a matter about the glass that Edward was bent on ascertaining, and he went to study the manufacture in Bohemia, taking liis wife mth liim, and leaving Rose with us. Shortly after, Dr. Long and Harry Beauchamp received MILITARY SOCIETY. 109 letters asking for a considerable advance, to be laid out on tbe materials that this improvement would require. Imme- diately afterwards came the crash." " Exactly what I heard. Of course the letters were -written in ignorance of what was impending." " Colin, they were never written at all by Edward ! He denied all knowledge of them. Alison saw Dr. Long's, most ingeniously managed — foreign paper and all — but she could swear to the forgery " " You suspect this Maddox 1 " " Most strongly ! He knew the state of the business ; Edward did not. And he had a correspondence that would have enabled so ingenious a person easily to imitate Edward's letters. I do not wonder at their having been taken in ; but how Julia — how Harry Beauchamp could believe — what they do beheve. Oh, Colin ! it will not do to think about it ! " " Oh, that I had been at home ! Were no measures taken 1 " " Alas ! alas ! we urged Edward to come home and clear himself ; but that poor little wife of his was terrified beyond measure, imagined prisons and trials. She was unable to move, and he could not leave her ; she took from him an unhappy promise not to put himself in what she fancied danger from the law, and then died, leaving him a baby that did not live a day. He was too broken-hearted to care for vindicating himself, and no one — no one would do it for him!" Colonel Keith frowned and clenched the hand that lay in his grasp till it was absolute pain, but pain that was a rehef to feel. " Madness, madness ! " he said. " Miserable ! But 110 THE CLEVER WOMAN OF THE FAMILY. how was it at home ? Did this Maudox stand his ground 1 " " Yes, if he had fled, all would have "been clear, but he doctored the accounts his own way, and quite satisfied Dr. Long and Harry. He showed Edward's receipt for the 600?. that had been advanced, and besides, there was a large siun not accounted for, which was, of course, supposed to have been invested abroad by Edward — some said gambled away — as if he had not had a regular hatred of aU sorts of games." " Edward with his head in the clouds ! One notion is as likely as the other. — Then absolutely nothing was done ! " " N'othing ! The bankruj)tcy was declared, the whole afi"air broken up ; and certainly if every one had not known Edward to be the most heedless of men, the confusion would have justified them in thinking him a dishonest one. Things had been done in his name by IMaddox that might have made a stranger think him guilty of the rest, but to those who had ever known his abstraction, and far more his real honour and uprightness, nothing could have been plainer." " It all turned uj)on his absence." " Yes, he must have borne the brunt of what had been done in his name, I know ; that woidd have been bad enough ; but in a court of justice, his whole character would have been shown, and besides, a prosecution for forgery of his receipt would have shown what Maddox was sufficiently to exculpate him." " And you say the losers by the deception would not believe in it "? " " JSTo, they only shook theii' heads at our weak sisterly affection." MILITARY SOCIETY. Ill " I wisli I coiild see one of those letters. "Wliere is Maddox now 1 " " I cannot tell. He certainly did not go away immediately after the settlement of accounts, but it has not heen possible to us to keep up a knowledge of his movements, or something might have turned up to justify Edward. Oh, Avhat it is to be helpless women ! You are the very first person, Colin, who has not looked at me pityingly, like a creature to be forborne with an undeniable delusion ! " " They must be very insolent j)eople, then, to look at that brow and eyes, and think even sisterly love could blind them," he said. "Yes, Ermine, I was certain that unless Edward were more changed than I could believe, there must be some such explanation. You have never seen liim since "? " " !N"o ; he was too utterly broken by the loss of his wife to feel anytliing else. Eor a long time we heard nothing, and that was the most dreadful time of all ! Then he wrote from a little German town, where he was getting his bread as a photographer's assistant. And since that he has cast about the world, till just now he has some rather interesting employment at the mines in the Oural Mountains, the first thing he has really seemed to Hke or care for." "The Oural Mountains! that is out of reach. I wish I could see him. One might find some means of clearing him. AYliat directed your suspicion to Maddox?" " Cliiefly that the letters professed to have been sent in a, parcel to him to be posted from the office. If it had been so, Edward and Lucy would certainly have Avritten to us at the same time. I could haA^e shown, too, that Maddox had written to me the day before to ascertain where Edward was, 112 THE CLEVER WOMAN OF THE FAMILY. SO as to be sure of the date. It was a little country village, and I made a blunder in copying the spelling from Lucy's writing. Ailie found that very blunder repeated in Dr. Long's letter, and we showed him that Edward did not write it so. Besides, before going abroad, Edward had lost the seal-ring with his crest, which you gave him. You remember the Saxon's heacl ?" " I remember ! You all took it much to heart that the engraver had made it a Saracen's head, and not a long-haired Saxon." " WeU, Edward had renewed the ring, and taken care to make it a Saxon. JN'ow Ailie could get no one to beheve her, but she is certain that the letter was sealed with the old Saracen, not the new Saxon. But — but — if you had but been there " "Tell me you "wished for me, Ermine." " I durst not wdsh anything about you," she said, looking up through a mist of tears. " And you, what fixed you here ? " " An old servant of ours had married and settled here, and had "written to us of her satisfaction in finding that the clergyman was from Hereford. "We thought he would recom- mend Ailie as daily governess to visitors, and that Sarah would be a comfortable landlady. It has answered very well; Rose deserves her name far more than when we brought her here, and it is wonderful how much better I have been since doctors have become a mere luxury." "Do you, can you really mean that you are supporting yourselves ?" " All but twenty-five pounds a year, from a legacy to us, that Mr. Beauchamp would not let them touch. But it has MILITARY SOCIETY. 113 been most remarkable, Colin," slie said, witli tbe dew in lier eyes, " bow we bave never wanted our daily bread, and how bappy we bave been ! If it bad not been for Edward, this would in many ways bave been onr bappiest time. Since the old days tbe Httle frets bave told less, and Ailie bas been infinitely bappier and brighter since sbe bas bad to work instead of only to watcb me. Ab, Colin, must I not own to having been bappy? Indeed it was very much because peace bad come when tbe suspense bad sunk into belief that I might think of you as , where you would not be grieved by the sight of what I am now " As she spoke, a knock, not at the bouse, but at the room- door, made them both start, and impel their chairs to a more ordinary distance, just as Eachel Curtis made her entrance, extremely amazed to find, not Mr. Touchett, but a much greater foe and rival in that unexpected quarter. Ermine, the least disconcerted, was the first to speak. "You are surprised to find a visitor here," she said, " and indeed only now, did we find out that ' our military secretary,' as your little cousins say, was our dear old squire's nephew." There was a ring of gladness in the usually patient voice that struck even Eachel, though she was usually too eager to be observant, but she was still unready with talk for the occasion, and Ermine continued : " We bad beard so much of the Major before-hand, that we had a sort of Jupiter-like expectation of the coming man. I am not sure that I shall not go on expecting a mythic major !" Eachel, never understanding playfubiess, thought this both audacious and unnecessary, and if it bad come from any one else, would have administered a snub, but sbe felt tbe invabd sacred from her weapons. VOL. I. I 114 THE CLEVER WOMAN OP THE FAMILY. " Have you ever seen the boys ?" asked Colonel Keith. " I am rather proud of Conrade, my pupil ; he is so cliivalrous towards his mother." " Alison has brought down a division or two to show me. How much alike they are." " Exactly aHke, and excessively unruly and unmanageable," said Eachel. " I pity your sister." " More unmanageable in appearance than in reality," said the colonel : " there's always a little trial of strength against the hand over them, and they yield when they find it is really a hand. They were wonderfully good and considerate when it was an object to keep the house quiet." Eachel would not encourage him to talk of Lady Temple, so she turned to Ermine on the business that had brought her, collecting and adapting old clothes for emigrants. — It was not exactly gentlemen's pastime, and Ermine tried to put it aside and converse, but Eachel never permitted any petty consideration to interfere with a useful design, and as there was a press of time for the things, she felt herself justified in driving the intruder off the field and out- staying him. She succeeded ; he recollected the desire of the boys that he should take them to inspect the pony at the " Jolly Mariner," and took leave ^viih. — " I shall see you to-morrow." " You knew him all the time !" exclaimed Eachel, pausing in her unfolding of the Master Temples' ship wardrobe. " Why did you not say so ?" " We did not know liis name. He was always the ' Major.' " " Wlio, and what is he ] " demanded Eachel, as she knelt before her victim, fixmg those great prominent eyes, so like MILITARY SOCIETY. 115 those of Eed Eiding Hood's grandmotlier, that Ermine involuntarily gave a backward impulse to her wheeled chair, as she answered the readiest thing that occurred to her, — " He is brother to Lord Keith of Gowan-brae." " Oh," said Eachel, kneeling on meditatively, " that accounts for it. So much the worse. The staff is made up of idle hononrables." " Quoth the ' Times !' " replied Ermine ; " but his appoint- ment began on account of a wound, and went on because of his usefulness " " Wounded ! I don't like wounded heroes," said Eachel ; "people make such a fuss with them that they always get spoilt." " This was nine years ago, so you may forget it if you like," said Ermine, diversion suppressing displeasure. " And what is your opinion of him 1 " said Eachel, edging forward on her knees, so as to bring her inquisitorial eyes to bear more fully. " I had not seen him for twelve years," said Ermine, rather faintly. " He must have had a formed character when you saw him last. The twelve years before five-and-forty don't alter the nature." " Eive-and-forty ! Hlness and climate have told ; but I did not think it was so much. He is only thirty-six " "That is not what I care about," said Eachel; "you are both of you so cautious that you tell me what amounts to nothing ! You should consider how important it is to me to know somethiQg about the person in whose power my cousin's affahs are left." I 2 116 THE CLEVER WOMAN OF THE FAMILY. " Have you not sufficient guarantee in the very fact of lier husband's confidence 1 " " I don't know. A simple-hearted old soldier always means a very foolish old man." " Witness the IN'ewcomes," said Ermine, who, besides her usual amusement in tracing Eachel's dicta to their source, could only keep in her indignation by laughing. " General observation," said Eachel, not to be turned from her purpose. " I am not foolishly suspicious, but it is not pleasant to see great influence and intimacy without some knowledge of the person exercising it." " I think," said Ermine, bringing herself with difficulty to answer quietly, " that you can hardly understand the terms they are on wdthout having seen how much a staff officer becomes one of the family." " I supj)ose much must be allowed for the frivoKty and narrowness of a military set in a colony. Imagine my one attempt at rational conversation last night. Asking his views on female emigration, absolutely he had none at all ; he and Eanny only w^ent off upon a nursemaid married to a sergeant !" " Perhaps the bearings of the question would hardly suit mixed company." "To be sure there was a conceited young officer there ; for as ill luck will have it, my uncle's old regiment is quartered at Avoncester, and I suppose they will all be coming after Eanny. It is well they are no nearer, and as this colonel says he is going to Belfast in a day or two, there will not be much provocation to them to come here. 'Now this great event of the Major's coming is over, we ^vill try to put Fanny upon a definite system, and I look to you and your sister as a great MILITAKY SOCIETY. 117 assistance to me, in counteracting the follies and nonsenses that her situation naturally exposes her to. I have been writing a little sketch of the dangers of indecision, that I thought of sending to the ' Traveller.' It would strike Fanny to see there what I so often tell her ; but I can't get an answer about my paper on ' Curatocult,' as you made me caU it." "Did I?" " You said the other word was of two languages. - I can't think why they don't insert it ; but in the meantime I will bring down my ' Human Eeeds,' and show them to you. I have only an hour's work on them ; so I'U come to-morrow afternoon." " I think Colonel Keith talked of calling again — thank you," suggested Ermine in despair. " Ah, yes ; one does not want to be hable to interrup- tions in the most interesting part. When he is gone to Belfast " "Yes, when he is gone to Belfast!" repeated Ermine, with an irresistible gleam of mirth about her lips and eyes, and at that moment Alison made her appearance. The looks of the sisters met, and read one another so far as to know that the meeting was over, and for the rest they endured, while Eachel remained, little imagining the trial her presence had been to Alison's burning heart-sick anxiety and doubt How could it be well? Let him be loveable, let him be constant, that only rendered Ermine's condition the more pitiable ; and the shining glance of her eyes was almost more than Alison could bear. So happy as the sisters had been together, so absolutely united, it did seem hard to dis- turb that calm life with hopes and agitations that must needs 118 THE CLEVER WOMAN OF THE FAMILY. be futile ; and Alison, whose whole life and soul were in her sister, could not without a pang see that sister's heart belong- ing to another, and not for hopeful joy, but pain and grief. The yearning of jealousy was sternly reproved and forced down, and told that Ermine had long been Colin Keith's, that the perpetrator of the evil had the least right of any one to murmur that her o"svn monopoly of her sister was interfered with ; that she was selfish, unkind, envious ; that she had only to hate herself and pray for strength to bear the punishment, without alloying Ermine's happiness while it lasted. How it could be so bright Alison knew not, but so it was she recognised by every tone of the voice, by every snule on the lip, by even the upright vigour T\T.th which Ermine sat in her chair and undertook Eachel's tasks of needlework. And yet, when the visitor rose at last to go, Alison was almost unwilling to be alone with her sister, and have that power of sympathy put to the test by those clear eyes that were wont to see her through and through. She went with Eachel to the door, and stood taking a last instruction, hear- ing it not at all, but answering, and relieved by the delay, hardly knowing whether to be glad or not that when she returned Eose was leaning on the arm of her aunt's chair with her most eager face. But Eose was to be no protec- tion, for what was passing between her and her aunt 1 " aiuitie, I am so glad he is coming back. He is just like the picture you drew of Eobert Bruce for me. And he is so kind. I never saw any gentleman speak to you in such a nice soft voice." Alison had no difficulty in smiling as Ermine stroked the child's hair, kissed her, and looked up with an arch, blushing, . MILITARY SOCIETY. 119 glittering face tliat could not liave been brigliter tliose long twelve years ago. And tlien Eose turned round, impatient to tell lier other aunt her story. " aunt Ailie, we have had such a gentle- man here, with a great brown beard like a j)icture. And he is papa's old friend, and kissed me because I am papa's little girl, and I do like him so very much. I went where I could look at him in the garden, when you sent me out, aunt Ermine." ''You did, you monkey?" said Ermine, laughing, and blushing again. " What will you do if I send you out next time 1 'No, I won't then, my dear, for all the time, I should like you to see him and know him." " Only, if you want to talk of aiLything very particular," observed Eose. " I don't think I need ask many questions," said Alison, smiling being happily made very easy to her. "Dear Ermine, I see you are perfectly satisfied " " Ailie, that is no word for it ! l!Tot only himself, but to find him loving Eose for her father's sake, undoubting of him tlu^ough all. AiKe, the thankfulness of it is more than one can bear." " And he is the same ! " said Alison. " The same — no, not the same. It is more, better, or I am able to feelit more. It was just like the morrow of the day he walked down the lane with me and gathered honey- suckles, only the night between has been a very, very strange time." " I hope the interruption did not come very soon." " I thought it was directly, but it could not ha^e been so soon, since you are come home. We had just had time to tell 120 THE CLEVER T70MAN OF THE FAMILY. what we most wanted to know, and I know a little more of what he is. I feel as if it were not only Colin again, hut ten times Colin. Ailie, it must he a little hit like the meetings in heaven ! " " I helieve it is so with you," said Alison, scarcely ahle to keep the tears from her eyes. " After sometimes not daring to dwell on him, and then only venturing hecause I thought he must he dead, to have him back again with the same looks, only deej)er — ^to find that he clung to those weeks so long ago, and, above all, that there was not one cloud, one doubt about the troubles — Oh, it is too, too much." Ermine lent back with clasped hands. She was like one weary with happiness, and fain to rest in the sense of newly- won peace. She said little more that evening, and if spoken to, seemed like one wakened out of a dream, so that more than once she laughed at herself, begged her sister's pardon, and said that it seemed to her that she could not hear any- thing for the one glad voice that rang in her ear, " Colin is come home." That was sufficient for her, no need for any other sympathy, felt Alison, with another of those pangs crushed down. Then wonder came — whether Ermine could really contemplate the future, or if it were absolutely lost in the present 1 Colonel Keith went back to be seized by Conrade and Erancis, and walked off to the pony inspection, the two boys, on either side of him, commimicating to liim the great grievance of living in a poky place like tliis, where nobody had ever been in the army, nor had a bit of sense, and Aunt Eachel was always bothering, and tr}ing to make mamma think that Con told stories. MILITARY SOCIETY. 121 " I don't mind that," said Conrade, stoutly ; " let lior try !" " Oil, but she wanted mamma to shut you up," added Francis. " Well, and mamma knows better," said Conrade, " and it made her leave off teaching me, so it was lucky. But I don't mind that ; only don't you see. Colonel, they don't know how to treat mamma ! They go and bully her, and treat her like — like a subaltern, till I hate the very sight of it." " My boy," said the Colonel, who had been giving only half attention ; "you must make up your mind to your mother not being at the head of everytliing, as she used to be in your father's time. She will always be respected, but you must look to yourself as you grow up to make a position for her!" "I wish I was grown up!" sighed Conrade; "how I would give it to Aunt Eachel ! But why must we. live here to have her plaguing us ?" Questions that the Colonel was glad to turn aside by means of the ponies, and by a suggestion that, if a very quiet one were found, and if Conrade would be very care- ful, mamma might, perhaps, go out riding with them. The m.otion was so transcendant that, no sooner had the ponies been seen, than the boys raced home, and had communicated it at the top of their voices to mamma long before their friend made his appearance. Lady Temple was quite startled at the idea. " Dear papa," as she always called her husband, " had wished her to ride, but she had seldom done so, and now " The tears came into her eyes. " I think you might," said the Colonel, gently ; " I could find you a quiet animal, and to have you with Conrade 122 THE CLEVER WOMAN OF THE FAMILY. would be such, a protection to Mm," lie added, as the hoys liad rushed out of the room. " Yes j perhaps, dear boy. But I could not begin alone ; it is so long since I rode. Perhaps when you come back from Ireland." " I am not going to Ireland." "I thought you said " said Fanny looking up sur- prised ; "I am very glad ! But if you wished to go, pray don't think about us ! I shall learn to manage in time, and I cannot bear to detain you." " You do not detain me," he said, sitting down by her ; ** I have found what I was going in search of, and through, your means." " A^Tiat — ^^vliat do you mean ? You were going to see Miss "WiLHams this afternoon, I thought ! " " Yes, and it was she whom I was seeking." He paused, and added slowly, as if merely for the sake of dwelling on the words, " I have found her ! " " Miss WiUiams ! " said Fanny, vnth. perplexed looks. " Miss "Williams ! — ^my Ermine whom I had not seen siace the day after her accident, Avhen we parted as on her death- bed ! " " That sister ! Oh, poor thing, I am so glad ! But I am sorry ! " cried the much confused Fanny, in a breath ; " were not you very much shocked 1 " " I had never hoped to see her face lq all its brightness again," he said. "Twelve years ! It is twelve years that she has suffered, and of late she has been brought to this grievous state of poverty, and yet the spuit is as brave and cheerful as ever ! It looks out of the beautiful eyes — more beautiful than when I first saw them, — I could see and tliinlv of notliing else ! " MILITARY SOCIETY. 123 " Twelve years ! " repeated Fanny ; " is it so long since you saw lier 1 " " Almost since I heard of her ! Slie was like a daughter to my aunt at Beauchamp, and her brother was my school- fellow. Tor one summer, when I was quartered at Hertford, I was mth her constantly, hut my family would not even hear of the indefinite engagement that was all we coidd have looked to, and made me exchange into the — th." " Ah ! that was the way we came to have you ! I must tell you, dear Sir Stephen always guessed. Once when he had quite vexed poor mamma by preventing her from joking you in her way about young ladies, he told me that once, when he was young, he had liked some one who died or was married, I don't quite know Avhich, and he thought it was the same with you, from something that happened when you withdrew your apphcation for leave after your Avound." " Yes ! it was a letter from home, implying that my return would be accepted as a sign that I gave her up. So that was an additional instance of the exceeding kindness that I always received." And there was a pause, both much affected by the thought of the good old man's ever ready consideration. At last Fanny said, " I am sure it was well for us ! What would he have done without you ? — and," she added, " do you really mean that you never heard of her all these years 1 " " IsTever after my aunt's death, except just after we went to Melbourne, when I heard in general terms of the ruin of the family and the false imputation on their brother." " Ah ! I remember that you did say something about going home, and Sir Stephen was distressed, and mamma and I jDersuaded you because we saw he would have missed 124: THE CLEVER WOMAN OF THE FAMILY. you SO much, and mamma was quite hurt at your thinkiiig of going. But if you had only told him your reason, he would never have thought of standing in your way." " I know he would not, but I saw he could hardly find any one else just then who knew hLs ways so well. Besides, there was little use in going home till I had my promotion, and could offer her a home ; and I had no notion how utter the ruin was, or that she had lost so much. So little did I imagine their straits that, hut for Alison's look, I should hardly have inquired even on hearing her name." " How very curious — how strangely things come round ! " said Fanny • then with a start of dismay, " but what shall I do 1 Pray, tell me what you would like. If I might only keep her a little while till I can find some one else, though no one will ever be so nice ; but indeed I would not for a moment, if you had rather not." " Why so ] Alison is very happy with you, and there can be no reason against her going on." " Oh ! " cried Lady Temple, Avith an odd sound of satis- faction, doubt, and surprise, " but I thought you would not like it." " I should like, of coiu'se, to set them all at ease ; but as I can do no more than make a home for Ermine and her niece, I can only rejoice that Alison is with you." " But your brother ! " " If he does not like it, he must take the consequence of the utter separation he made my father insist on," said the Colonel sternly. " For my own part, I only esteem both sisters the more, if that were possible, for what they have done for themselves." " Oh ! that is Avhat Eacliel woidd like ! She is so fond of MILITARY SOCIETY. 125 the sick — I mean of your — Miss AVilliams. I suppose I may not tell lier yet." " l!^ot yet, if you please. I have scarcely had time as yet to know what Ermine wishes ; but I could not help telling you." " Thank you — I am so glad," she said, mth sweet earnest- ness, holding out her hand in congratulation. " When may I go to her 1 I should like for her to come and stay here. Do you think she would V " Thank you, I wiU see. I know how kind you would be — ^indeed, have already been to her." " And I am so thankful that I may keep Miss WiUiams ! The dear boys never were so good. And perhaps she may stay tni baby is grown up. Oh ! how long it will be first ! " " She could not have a kinder friend," said the Colonel, smiling, and looking at his watch. " Oh, is it time to dress ? It is very kind of my dear aunt ; but I do wish we could have stayed at home to-night. It is so dull for the boys when I dine out, and I had so much to ask you. One thing was about that poor little Bessie Keith. Don't you think I might ask her down here, to be near her brother ? " " It would be a very kind thing in you, and very good for her, but you must be prepared for rather a gay young lady." " Oh, but she would not mind my not going out. She would have Alick, you know, and aU the boys to amuse her ; but, if you think it would be tiresome for her, and that she would not be happy, I should be very sorry to have her, poor child." " I was not afraid for her," said Colonel Keith, smiling, " but of her being rather too much for you." 126 TUB CLEVER WOMAN OF THE FAMILY. " Eachel is not too mucli for me," said Fanny, " and she and Grace "vvill entertain Bessie, and take her out. But I will talk to Alick. He spoke of coming to-morrow. And don't you think I might ask Colonel and Mrs. Hammond to spend a day 1 They would so like the sea for the children." " Certainly." " Then perhaps you would WTite — oh, I forgot," colouring up, " I never can forget the old days ; it seems as if you were on the staff still." " I always am on yours, and always hope to be," he said, smiling, " though I am afraid I can't write your note to the Hammonds for you." " But you won't go away," she said. " I know your time will be taken up, and you must not let me or the boys be troublesome ; but to have you here makes me so much le.ss lost and lonely. And I shall have such a friend in your Erminia. Is that her name '? "Ermine, an old Welsh name, the softest I ever heard. Indeed it is dressing time," added Colonel Keith, and both moved away with the startled precision of members of a punctual military household, stiU feeling themselves account- able to somebody. ERMINE S RESOLUTION. CHAPTEE YI. ERMINES RESOLUTION. " For as his hand tlie weather steers, So thrive I best 'twixt joys and tears, And all the year have some green ears." — H. Vaughan. Alison had not been wrong in her presentiment that the second interview would he more trying than the first. The exceeding brightness and animation of Ermine's countenance, her speaking eyes, unchanged complexion, and lively manner —above all, the restoration of her real substantial self — ^had so sufficed and engrossed Colin Keith in the gladness of their first meeting that he had failed to comprehend her helpless state ; and already knowing her to be an invalid, not entirely recovered from her accident, he was only agreeably surprised to see the beauty of face he had loved so long, retaining all its vivacity of expression. And when he met Alison the next morning with a cordial brotherly greeting and inquiry for her sister, her " Very well," and " not at all the worse for the excitement," were so hearty and ready that he could not have guessed that " well with Ermine meant something rather relative than positive. Alison brought him a playful message from her, that since he was not going to BeKast, she shoidd meet him with a freer conscience if he would first give her time for Eose's lessons, and, as he said, he had lived long enough with. Messrs. Conrade and Co. to acknowledge the 128 THE CLEVER WOMAN OF THE FAMILY. wisdom of the message. But Eose had not long heen at leisure to look out for him before he made his appearance, and walking in by right, as one at home ; and sitting down in his yesterday's place, took the little maiden on his knee, and began to talk to her about the lessons he had been told to wait for. What would she have done without them 1 He knew some people who never could leave the house quiet enough to hear one's-self speak if they were deprived of lessons. "Was that the way with her 1 Eose laughed like a creature, her aunt said, " to whom the notion of noise at play was something strange and ridiculous ; necessity has reduced her to Jacqueline Pascal's system vnth. her pen- sionnaireSj who were allowed to play one by one without any noise." " Eut I don't play all alone," said Eose ; " I play with you, Aunt Ermine, and with Violetta." And Violetta speedily had the honour of an introduction, very solemnly gone through, in due form ; Ermine, in the languid sportiveness of enjoyment of Ms presence and his kindness to the child, inciting Eose to present Miss Violetta WiUiams to Colonel Keith, an introduction that he returned with a grand military salute, at the same time as he shook the doll's inseparable fingers. " Well, jMiss Violetta, and Miss Eose, when you come to hve with me, I shall hope for the pleasure of teaching you to make a noise." " What does he mean 1 " said Eose, turning round amazed upon her aunt. " I am afraid he does not quite know," said Ermine, sadly. "I^ay, Ermine," said he, turning from the child, and bending over her, " you are the last who should say that. Have I not told you that there is nothing now in oiu' way — ermine's resolution. 129 no one witli a right to object, and means enough for all we should wish, including her ? What is the matter ? " he added, startled by her look. " Ah, Colin ! I thought you knew " " Knew what, Ermine 1 " with his brows drawn together. " Knew — what I am," she said ; " knew the impossibility. What, they have not told you ? I thought I was the invalid, the cripj)le, with every one." •'I knew you had suffered cruelly; I knew you were lame," he said, breathlessly ; " but — what " " It is more than lame," she said. " I should be better off if the fiction of the Queens of Spain were truth with me. I could not move from this chair without help. Oh, Colin ! poor CoKn ! it was very cruel not to have prepared you for this ! " she added, as he gazed at her in grief and dismay, and made a vain attempt to find the voice that would not come. "Yes, indeed it is so," she said; "the explosion, rather than the fij?e, did mischief below the knee that poor nature could not repair, and I can but just stand, and cannot walk at all." " Has anything been done — advice ? " he managed to utter. " Advice upon advice, so that I felt it at last almost a compensation to be out of the way of the doctors. JS^o, nothing more can be done ; and now that one is used to it,, the snail is very comfortable in its shell. But I wish you could have known it sooner ! " she added, seeing him shade, his brow mth his hand, overwhelmed. " What you must have suffered ! " he murmured. " That is all over long ago ; every year has left that further behind, and made me more content. Dear Colin, for me there is nothing to grieve." VOL. I. K 130 THE CLEVER "WOMAN OF THE FAMILY. He could not control himself, rose up, made a long stride, and passed through the open mndow into the garden. " Oh, if I could only follow him," gasped Ermine, joining her hands and looking up. " Is it because you can't walk ? " said Eose, somewhat frightened, and for the first time beginning to comprehend that her joyous-tempered aunt could be a subject for pity. " Oh ! this was what I feared ! " sighed Ermine. " Oh, give us strength to go through "with it." Then becoming awake to the child's presence — " A little water, if you please, my dear." Then, more composedly, "Don't be frightened, my Eose ; you did not know it was such a shock to find me so laid by " " He is in the garden walking up and down," said Eose. " May I go and tell liim how much merrier you always are than Aunt Ailie V Poor Ermine felt anything but merry just then, but she had some experience of Eose's powers of soothing, and signed assent. So in another second Colonel Keith was met in the hasty, agonized walk by which he was endeavouring to work off his agitation, and the slender cliild looked wistfully up at him from dark depths of half understanding eyes — " Please, please don't be so very sorry," she said. " Aunt Ermine does not Kke it. She never is sorry for herseK " " Have I shaken her — distressed her?" he asked, anxiously. " She doesn't like you to be sorry," said Eose, looking up. " And, indeed, she does not mind it ; she is such a merry aunt ! Please, come in again, and see how happy we always are " The last words were spoken so near the ^™dow that Ermine caught them, and said, " Yes, come in, Colin, and ermine's resolution. 131 learn not to grieve for me, or yon will make me repent of my selfisb. gladness yesterday." " !N"ot grieve ! " lie exclaimed, " when I think of the l)eantifiil vigorous being that used to be the life of the place " and he would have said more but for a deprecating sign of the hand. " Well," she said, half smiling, " it is a pity to think even of a crushed butterfly ; but indeed, Colin, if you can bear to listen to me, I tliink I can show you that it all has been a blessing even by sight, as well as, of course, by faith. Only remember the unsatisfactoriness of our condition — ^the never seeing or hearing from one another after that day when Mr. Beauchamp came down on us. Did not the accident win for us a parting that was much better to remember than that state of things 1 Oh, the pining, weary feel as if all the world had closed on me ! I do assure you it was much worse than anything that came after the burn. Yes, if I had been well and doing like others, I know I should have fretted and wearied, pined myself ill perhaps, whereas I could always tell myself that every year of your absence might be a step towards your finding me well ; and when I was forced to give up that hope "for myself, why then, Colin, the never seeing your name made me tliink you would never be disap- pointed and grieved as you are now. It is very merciful the way that physical trials help one through those of the mind." "I never knew," said the Colonel; "aU my aunt's latter letters spoke of your slow improvement beyond liojDe." " True, in her time, I had not reached the point where I stopped. Tlie last time I saw her I was still upstairs ; and, indeed, I did not half know what I could do till I tried." K 2 132 THE CLEVER WOMAN OF THE FAMH^Y. " Yes," said he, briglitened by that buoyant look so re- markable in her face ; " and you will yet do more. Ermine. You have convinced me that we shall be all the happier' toijether " " But that was not what I meant to convince you of " she said, faintly. " ^ot wliat you meant, perhaps ; but what it did convince me was, that you — as you are, my Ermine — are ten thousand times more to me than even as the beautiful girl, and that there never can be a happier pair than we shall be when I am your hands and feet." Ermine sat up, and rallied all her forces, choked back the swelling of her throat, and said, " Dear Colin, it cannot be ! I trusted you were understanding that when I told you how it was with me." ■ He could not speak from consternation. " jSTo," she said ; " it would be wrong in me to think of it for an instant. That you should have done so, shows O Colin, I cannot talk of it ; but it would be as ungenerous in me to consent, as it is noble of you to j)ropose it." ^ " It is no such thing," he answered ; "it has been the one object and thought of my life, the only hope I have had all these years." " Exactly so," she said, struggling again to speak firmly ; " and that is the very thing. You kept your allegiance to the bright, tall, walking, active girl, and it would be a shame in the scorched cripple to claim it." " Don't call yourself names. Have I not told you that you are more than the same 1 " " You do not know. You are pleased because my face is not burnt, nor gxown much older, and because I can talk and ermine's resolution. 133 laugh in the same voice still." (Oh, how it quivered !) " But it "would be a wicked mockery in me to pretend to he the wife you want. Yes, I know you think you do, hut that is just because my looks are so deceitful, and you have kept on thinking about me ; but you must make a fresh beginning." " You can tell me that," he said, indignantly. " Because it is not new to me," she said ; " the quarter of an hour you stood by me, with that deadly calm in your white face, was the real farewell to the young hopeful dream of that bright summer. I wish it was as calm now." " I believed you dying then," answered he. "Do not make me think it would have been better for you if I had been," she said, imploringly. " It was as much the end, and I knew it from the time my recovery stopped short. I would have let you know if I could, and then you would not have been so much shocked." " So as to cut me off from you entirely?" " 'No, indeed. The thought of seeing you again was too — too overwhelming to be indulged in ; knowing, as I did, that if you were the same to me, it must be at this sad cost to you," and her eyes filled with tears. " It is you who make it so, Ermine." " No ; it is the providence that has set me aside from the active work of life. Pray do not go on, Colin, it is only giving us both useless pain. You do not know what it costs me to deny you, and I feel that I must. I know you are only acting on the impidse of generosity. Yes, I will say so, though you think it is to please yourself," she added, with one of those smiles that nothing could drive far from her lips, and which made it infinitely harder to acquiesce in her denial. 134 THE CLEVER WOMAN OF THE FAMILY. " I will make you think so in time," lie said. " Then I might tell you, you had no right to please your- self," she answered, still with the same air of playfulness ; " you have got a brother, you know — and — ^yes, I hear you growl ; hut if he is a poor old hroken man out of health, it is the more reason you should not vex him, nor hamp'-r yourself with a helpless commodity." " You are not taking the way to make me forget what my brother has done for us." " How do you know that he did not save me from being a strong-minded military lady ? After all, it was absurd to expect people to look favourably on our liking for one another, and you know they could not be expected to know that there was real stuff in the affair. If there had not been, we should have thought so all the same, you know, and been quite as furious." He could not help smiling, recollecting fury that, in the course of these twelve years, he had seen evinced under similar circumstances by persons who had consoled them- selves before he had done pitying them. " Still," he sai'l. gravely, " I think there was harsliness." " So do I, but not so much as I thought at that time, and — oh, surety that is not Eachel Curtis V I told her I thought you would call." " Intolerable ! " he muttered between his teeth. " Is she always coming to bore you ? " " She has been very kind, and my great enlivenment.'' said Ermine, " and she can't be expected to loiow how little we want her. Oh, there, the danger is averted ! She must have asked if you were here." *' I was just thinking that she was the chief objection t ermine's resolution. 135 to Lady Temple's kind wish, of having you at Myrtle- wood." *' Does Lady Temj)le know?" asked Ermine, blushing. " I could not keep it from one who has been so uniformly kind to me ; but I desired her not to let it go further till I should hear your wishes." " Yes, she has a right to know," said Ermine; "but please, not a word elsewhere." " And will you not come to stay with her ? " " I ? Oh, no ; I am fit for no place but this. You don't half know how bad I am. When you have seen a little more of us, you will be quite convinced." " Well, at least, you give me leave to come here." " Leave 1 When it is a greater pleasure than I ever thought to have again; that is, while you understand that you said good-bye to the Ermine of Beauchamp Parsonage twelve years ago, and that the thing here is only a sort of ghost, most glad and grateful to be a friend — a sister." " So," he said, " those are to be the terms of my admis- sion." " The only possible ones." " I will consider them. I have not accepted them." " You will," she said. But she met a smile in return, implying that there might be a will as steadfast as her own, although the question might be waived for a time. Meantime, Eachel was as nearly hating Colonel Keith as principle would allow, with " Human Eeeds," newly finished, burning in her pocket, " Military Society " fermenting in her brain, and " Curatocult " still unacknowledged. Had he not had quite time for any rational visit? Was he to devour 13G THF. CLEVER WOMAN OF THE FAMILY. Mackarel Lane as well as Myitlewood 1 She was on lier way to the latter house, meeting Grace as she went, and con- gratulating herself that he could not he in two places at once, whilst Grace secretly wondered how far slie might venture to huild on Alison Williams's half confidence, and regretted the anxiety wasted hy Eachel and the mother; though, to he sure, that of Mrs. Curtis was less uncalled for than her daughter's, since it was only the fear of Fanny's not heing sufficiently guarded against misconstructions. Eachel held up her hands in despair in the hall. " Six officers' cards ! " she exclaimed. " J^J'o, only six cards," said Grace ; " there are two of each." " That's enough," sighed Eachel ; " and look there," gazing through the garden-door. " She is walking with the young puppy that dined here on Thursday, and they called Alick." "Do you rememher," said Grace, " how she used to chatter about Alick, when she first came to us, at six years old. He was the child of one of the officers. Can this be the same 1 " '' That's one of your ideas, Grace. Look, this youth could have been hardly born when Fanny came to us. No ; he is only one of the idlers that military life has accustomed her to." Eather against Grace's feeling, Eachel di^ew her on, so as to come up Avith Lady Temple and her friend in the midst of their conversation, and they heard the last words — " Then you will give me dear Bessie's direction 1 " " Thank you, it wnR be the greatest kindness " " Oh, Grace, Eachel, is it you ? " exclaimed Fann3^ '' You have not met before, I think. Mr. Keith — Miss Curtis." ermine's resolution. 137 Yery yoiuig indeed were both face and figure, fair and pale, and thongli there was a moustache, it was so light and silky as to he scarcely -visible ; the hair, too, was almost flaxen, and the whole complexion had a washed-out appear- ance. The eyes, indeed, were of the same peculiar deep bhie as the Colonel's, but even these were little seen under their heavy sleepy lids, and the long limbs had in every movement something of weight and slowness, the very sight of Avhich fretted Eachel, and made her long to shake him. It appeared that he was come to spend the Sunday at Avonmouth, and Grace tried to extract the comfort for her mother that two gentlemen were better than one, and Fanny need not be on their minds for chaperonage for that day. A party of garden-chairs on the la^\ai invited repose, and there the ladies seated themselves ; Fanny laying down her hea^T" crape bonnet, and showing her pretty little delicate face, now much fresher and more roseate than when she arrived, though her wide-spreading black draperies gave a certain dignity to her slight figure, contrasting with the summer muslins of her two cousins ; as did her hot-house plant fairness, with their firm, healthy glow of complexion ; her tender shrinking grace, with their upright vigour. The gentleman of the party leant back in a languid, easy posture, as though only half awake, and the whole was so quiet that Grace, missing the usual tumult of children, asked after them. " The boys have gone to their favourite cove under the plantation. They have a fort there, and Hubert told me he was to be a hero, and Miss Williams a she-ro." " I would not encourage that description of sport," said Eachel, willing to fight a battle in order to avert maternal anecdotes of boyish sayings. 138 THE CLEVER WOMAN OF THE FAMILY. " They like it so much," said Fanny, " and they learn so much now that they act all the battles they read about." " That is what I object to," said Eachel ; " it is accustom- ing them to confound heroism with pugnacity." " No, but Eachel dear, they do quarrel and fight among themselves much less now that this is all in play and good humour," pleaded Fanny. " Yes, that may be, but you are cultivating the dangerous instinct, although for a moment giving it a better direction." " Dangerous 1 Oh, Alick ! do you think it can be 1 " said Fanny, less easily borne dowTi with a supporter beside her. " According to the Peace Society," he answered, with a quiet air of courteous deference ; " perhaps you belong to it 1 " " No, indeed," answered Eachel, rather indignantly, '' I think war the great purifier and ennobler of nations, when it is for a good and great cause ; but I think education ought to protest against confounding mere love of combat with heroism." " Query, the true meaning of the word ? " he said, leaning back. " Heros, yes from the same root as the German herr,^' readily responded Eachel, " meaning no more than lord and master ; but there can be no doubt that the progress of ideas has linked with it a much nobler association." " Progress ! "What, since the heroes were half divine ! " " Half divine in the esteem of a peoj^le who thought brute courage godlike. To us the word mamtains its semi-divinity, and it should be oiu' effort to associate it only with that which veritably has the god-like stamp." " And that is ? " ermine's resolution. 139 " Doing more than one's duty," exclaimed Rachel, with a glistening eye. " Very uncomfortable and superfluous, and not at all easy," he said, half shutting his abeady heavy eyes. " Easy, no, that's the heauty and the glory " " Major Sherborne and Captain Lester in the drawing- room, my lady," announced Coombe, who had looked infi- nitely cheered since this military influx. " You will come with me, Grace," said Fanny, rising. " I dare say you had rather not, Eachel, and it would be a pity to disturb you, Alick." " Thank you j it would be decidedly more than my duty." " I am quite sorry to go, you are so amusing," said Fanny ; " but I suppose you will have settled about heroism by the time we come out again, and will tell me what the boys ought to play at." Eachel's age was quite past the need of troubling herself at being left tete-a-tete with a mere lad like this ; and, besides, it was an opportunity not to be neglected of giving a young carpet knight a lesson in true heroism. There was a pause after the other two had moved oif. Eachel reflected for a few moments, and then, precipitated by the fear of her audience falling asleep, she exclaimed — " jSTo words have been more basely misused than hero and heroine. The one is the mere fighting animal whose strength or fortune have borne him through some more than ordinary danger, the other is only the subject of an adventure, per- fectly irrespective of her conduct in it." " Eathos attends all high words," he said, as she paused, chiefly to see whether he was awake, and not like her dumb playfellow of old. 140 THE CLEVER WOMAN OF THE FAMILY, " This is not their natural bathos but their misuse. They ought to be reserved for those who in any department have passed the limits to which the necessity of their position constrained them, and done acts of self-devotion for the good of others. I will give you an instance, and from you own profession, that you may see I am not prejudiced ; besides, the hero of it is past praise or blame." Encouraged by seeing a little more of his eyes, she went on. " It was in the course of the siege of Delhi, a shell came into a tent where some sick and wounded were lying. There was one young officer among them who could move enough to have had a chance of escaping the explosion, but instead of that he took the shell up, its fuse burning as it was, and ran with it out of the tent, then hurled it to a distance. It exploded, and of course was his death, but the rest were saved, and I call that a deed of heroism far greater than mounting a breach or leading a forlorn hope." " Killed, you say 1 " inquired Mr. Keith, still in the same letharsjic manner. " Oh yes, mortally wounded : carried back to die among the men he had saved." " Jessie Cameron singing his dirge," miunbled this pro- voking individual, with something about the form of his cheek that being taken by Eachel for a derisive smile, made her exclaim vehemently, " You do not mean to undervalue an action like that in comparison with mere animal pugnacity in an advance." "More than one's duty was your test," he said. " And was not this more than duty? Ah! I see yours is a spirit of depreciation, and I can only say I pity you." He took the trouble to lift himself up and make a little ermine's resolution. 141 bow of acknowledgment. Certainly h.e was worse tlian the Colonel ; but Eacbel, while mustering her powers for anni- hilating him, was annoyed by all the party in the drawing- room coming forth to join them, the other officers rallying young Keith upon his luxurious station, and making it evi- dent that he was a proverb in the regiment for taking his ease. Chairs were brought out, and afternoon tea, and the callers sat down to wait for Colonel Keith to come in ; Grace feeling obliged to stay to help Fanny entertain her visitors, and Eachel to protect her from their follies. One thing Grace began to perceive, that Lady Temple had in her former world been a person of much more consideration than she was made here, and seeing the polite and deferential manner of these officers to her, could only wonder at her gentle content and submission in meeting with no particular attention from any- body, and meekly allowing herself to be browbeaten by Eachel and lectured by her aunt. A lecture was brewmg up for her indeed. Poor Mrs. Curtis was very much concerned at the necessity, and only spurred up by a strong sense of duty to give a hint — the study of which hint cost her a whole sleepless night and a very weary Sunday morning. She decided that her best course would be to drive to Myrtlewood rather early on her way to church, and take up Fanny, gaining a previous conference with her alone, if possible. " Yes, my dear," she said to Grace, " I must get it over before church, or it will make me so nervous all through the service." And Grace, loving her mother best, durst not suggest what it might do to Fanny, hopiug that the service might help her to digest the hiat. Mrs. Curtis's regular habits were a good deal shocked to 142 THE CLEVER WOMAN OF THE FAMILY. find Eanny still at tlie breakfast table. The cMLdren bad indeed long finished, and were scattered about the room, one of them standing between Colonel Keith's knees, repeat- ing a hymn ; but the younger guest was still in the midst of his meal, and owned in his usual cool manner that he was to blame for the lateness, there was no resisting the charms of no morning parade. Her aunt's appearance made Fanny imagine it much later than it really was, and she hurried off the children to be dressed, and proceeded herself to her room, ]\Irs. Curtis foHowrag, and by w^ay of preliminary, asking when Colonel Keith was going to Ireland. " Oh ! " said Fanny, blushing most suspiciously under her secret, " he is not goiQg to Ireland now." " Indeed ! I quite understood he iutended it." " Yes," faltered Fanny, " but he found that he need not." "Indeed-!" again ejaculated poor perplexed Mrs. Curtis; " but then, at least, he is goiag away soon." " He must go to Scotland by-and-by, but for the present he is going into lodgings. Do you know of any nice ones, dear aunt 1 " " WeU, I suppose you can't help that ; you know, my dear, it w^ould never do for him to stay in this house." " I never thought of that," said Fanny simply, the colour coming in a fresh glow. " No, my dear, but yoxi see you are very young and inex- perienced. I do not say you have done anything the least amiss, or that you ever w^ould mean it, only you will foi-give your old aunt for puttuig you on your guard." Fanny kissed her, but with eyes full of tears, and cheeks burning, then her candour drew^ from her — " It was he that ermine's resolution. " 143 thought of getting a lodging. I am glad I did not persuade him not ; hut you know he always did live with us." " With us. Yes, my poor dear, that is the difference, and you see he feels it. But, indeed, my dear child, though he is a very good man, I dare say, and quite a gentleman aU hut his heard, you had hetter not encourage You know people are so apt to make remarks." " I have no fear," said Fanny, turning away her head, conscious of the impossihility of showing her aunt her mistake. " Ah ! my dear, you don't guess how ready people are to talk ; and you would not like — for your children's sake, for your hushand's sake — that — that " " Pray, pray aunt," cried ranny, much pained ; " indeed you don't know. My hushand had confidence in him more than in any one. He told him to take care of me and look after the hoys. I couldn't hold aloof from him without transgressing those wishes" — and the words were lost in a soh. " My dear, indeed I did not mean to distress you. You know, I dare say — I mean " hesitated poor Mrs. Curtis. " I laiow you must see a great deal of him. I only want you to take care — appearances are appearances, and if it was said you had all these young officers always coming ahout " " I don't think they will come. It was only just to call, and they have known me so long. It is all out of respect to my father and Sir Stephen," said Fanny, meekly as ever. " Indeed, I would not for the world do anything you did not like, dear aunt ; hut there can't he any ohjection to my having Mrs. Hammond and the children to spend the day to-morrow." Mrs. Curtis did not lils:e it ; she had an idea that all 144 THE CLEVER WOMAN OF THE FAMILY. military ladies were dashing and vulgar, but she could not say there was any objection, so she went on to the head of poor Fanny's offending. " This young man, my dear, he seems to make himself very intimate." " Alick Keith ? Oh aunt ! " said Fanny, more surprised than by all the rest ; " don't you know about him ? His father and mother were oiu" greatest friends always ; I used to play with him every day till I came to you. And then just as I married, poor IMrs. Keith died, and we had dear little Bessie wdtli us till her father could send her home. And when poor Alick was so dreadfully wounded before Delhi, Sir Stephen sent him up in a litter to the hills for mamma and me to nurse. Mamma was so fond of him, she used to call him her son." " Yes, my dear, I dare say you have been very intimate ; but you see you are very young ; and his staying here " " I thought he would be so glad to come and be with the colonel, who was his guardian and Bessie's," said Fanny ; " and I have promised to have Bessie to stay -udth me, she was such a dear little thing " " Well, my dear, it may be a good thing for you to have a young lady with you, and if he ^is to come over, her presence ^vill exj)lain it. Understand me, my dear, I am not at all afraid of your — your doing anything foolish, only to get talked of is so dreadful in your situation, that you can't be too careful." " Yes, yes, thank you, dear aunt," miu'mui'ed the drooping and subdued Fanny, aware how much the remonstrance must cost her aunt, and sure that she must be in fault in some way, if she could only see how. " Please, dear aunt, help me, for indeed I don't know how to manage — tell me how to ermine's resolution. 145 be civil and kind to my dear husband's friends witbont witbout " Her voice broke down, thougb sbe kept from tears as an unkindness to ber aunt. In very fact, little as sbe knew it, sbe could not bave defended berself better tban by tbis bumble question, tlirow- ing tbe wbole guidance of ber conduct upon ber aunt. If sbe bad been affronted, Mrs. Curtis could bave been dis- pleased j but to be tbus set to prescribe tbe rigbt conduct, was at once mollifying and perplexing. " Well, well, my dear cbild, we all know you wisb to do rigbt j you can judge best. I would not bave you ungrateful or uncivil, only you know you are living very quietly, and intimacy — ob ! my dear, I know your owil feeling will direct you. Dear cbild ! you bave taken wbat I said so kindly. And now let me see tbat dear little girl." Eacbel bad not anticipated tbat tbe upsbot of a remon- strance, even from ber motber, would be tbat Fanny was to be directed by ber own feeling ! Tbat same feeling took Lady Temple to Mackarel Lane later in tbe day. Sbe bad told tbe Colonel ber intention, and obtained Alison's assurance tbat Ermine's stay at Myrtlewood need not be impracticable, and armed Avitb tbeir consent, sbe made ber timid tap at Miss Williams' door, and sbowed ber sweet face witbin it. " May I come in 1 Your sister and your little niece are gone for a walk. I told tbem I would come ! I did want to see you ! " " Tbank you," said Ermine, witb a sweet smile, colouring cbeek, yet grave eyes, and mucb taken by surprise at being seized by botb bands, and kissed on eacb cbeek. VOL. I. L 146 THE CLEVER WOMAN OF THE FAMILY. " Yes, you must let me," said her visitor, looking up vriW her pretty imploring gesture ; " you know I have kno^vn him so long, and he has heen so good to me ! " " Indeed it is very kind in you," said Ermine, fully feeling the force of the plea expressed in the winning young face and gentle eyes full of tears. " Oh, no, I could not help it. I am only so sorry we kept him away from you when you wanted him so much ; hut we did not know, and he was Sir Stephen's right hand, and we none of us knew what to do without him ; hut if he had only told " " Thank you, oh, thank you ! " said Ermine, " but indeed it was better for him to be away." Even her Avish to console that pleading little widow could not make her say that his coming would not have been good for her. " It has been such a pleasure to hear he had so kind and happy a home all these years." " Oh, you cannot think how Sir StejDhen loved and valued him. The one thing I always did wish was, that Conrade should grow up to be as much help and comfort to his father, and now he never can ! But," driving back a tear, " it was so hard that you should not have known how distinguished and useful and good he was all those years. Only now I shall have the pleasure of telling you," and she smiled. She was quite a different being when free from the unsjTnpathizing influence which, without her understanding it, had kept her from dwelling on her dearest associations. " It will be a pleasure of pleasures," said Ermine, eagerly. " Then you will do me a favour, a very great favour," said Lady Temple, laying hold of her hand again, " if you and your sister and niece will come and stay Avith me." And as Ei'mine ermine's resolution. 147 coimnenced her refusal, she went on in the same coaxing waj^, with a description of her plans for Ermine's comfort, giving her two rooms on the ground floor, and assuring her of the absence of steps, the immunity from all teasing by the chil- dren, of the full consent of her sister, and the wishes of the Colonel; nay, 'when Ermine was still unpersuaded of the exceeding kindness it would be to herself. " You see I am terribly yoimg, really,'^ she said, " though I have so many boys, and my aunt tliinks it awkward for me to have so many officers calling, and I can't keep them away because they are my father's and Sir Stephen's old friends ; so please do come and make it all right ! " Ermine was driven so hard, and so entirely deprived of all excuse, that she had no alternative left but to come to the real motive. " I ought not," she said, " it is not good for him, so you must not press me, dear Lady Temple. You see it is best for him that nobody should ever know of what has been be- tween us." " What ! don't you mean ? " exclaimed Eanny, break- ing short off. " I cannot ! " said Ermine. " Eut he would like it. He wishes it as much as ever." " I know he does," said Ermine, with a troubled voice ; " but you see that is because he did not know what a "wretched remnant I am, and he never has had time to think about any one else." " Oh no, no." " And it would be very unfair of me to take advantage of that, and give him such a thing as I am." l2 148 THE CLEVER WOMAN OF THE FAMILY. " Oh. dear, but that is very sad ! " cried Fanny, looking mucli startled. " Eut I am sure you must see that it is right." " It may be right," and out burst Fanny's ready tears ; " but it is very, very hard and disagreeable, if you don't mind my saying so, when I know it is so good of you. And don't you mean to let him even see you, when he has been constant so long ? " " No ; I see no reason for denying myself that ; indeed I believe it is better for him to grow used to me as I am, and be convinced of the impossibility." " Well then, why will you not come to me ? " " Do you not see, in all your kindness, that my coming to you would make every one know the terms between us, while no one remarks his just coming to me here as an old friend 1 And if he were ever to turn his mind to any one else " " He will never do that, I am sure." "There is no knowing. He has never been, in his own estimation, disengaged from me," said Ermine ; " his brother is bent on his marrying, and he ought to be perfectly free to do so, and not under the disadvantage that any report of this affair would be to him." "Well, I am sure he never wdll," said Fanny, almost petulantly ; " I know I shall hate her,, that's all." Ermine thought her own charity towards Mrs. Colin Keith much more dubious than Lady Temple's, but she continued — " At any rate you vnW be so very kind as not to let any one know of it. I am glad you do. I should not feel it right that you should not, but it is different with others." " Thank you. And if you will not come to me, you will let me come to you, won't you 1 It will be so nice to come ermine's resolution. 1-49 and talk hini over with. you. Perhaps I shall persuade you some of these days after all. Only I must go now, for I always give the children their tea on Sunday. But ^^lease let your dear little niece come up to-morrow and play with them j the little Hammonds will he there, she is just their age." Ermine felt obliged to grant this at least, though she was as doubtful of her shy Eose's happiness as of the expedience of the intimacy ; but there was no being ungracious to the gentle visitor, and no doubt Ermine felt rejoiced and elevated. She did not need fresh assurances of Colin's constancy, but the affectionate sister-like congratulations of this loving, ■wanning creature, showed how real and in earnest his inten- tions were. And then Lady Temple's grateful esteem for him being, as it was, the reflection of her husband's, was no small testimony to his merits. "Pretty creature!" said Ermine to herself; "really if it did come to that, I could spare him to her better than to any one else. She has some notion how to value him." Alison and Eose had, in the meantime, been joined by Colonel Keith and the boys, whom Alick had early deserted in favour of a sunny sandy nook. The Colonel's purpose was hard on poor Alison ; it was to obtain her opinion of her sister's decision, and the likelihood of persistence in it. It was not, perhaps, bad for either that they conversed under difficulties, the boys continually coming back to them from excursions on the rocks, and Eose holding her aunt's hand all the time ; but to be sure Eose had heard nearly all the Colonel's affairs, and somehow mixed him up with Henry of Cranstoun. Very tenderly towards Alison herself did Colin Keith 150 THE CLEVER WOMAN OF THE FAMILY. speak. It was the first time they had ever "been brought into close contact, and she had quite to learn to know him. She had regarded his return as probably a misfortune, but it was no longer possible to do so when she heard his warm and con- siderate way of speaking of her sister, and saw him only de- sirous of learning what was most for her real happiness. Xay, he even made a convert of Alison herself ! She did believe that would Ermine but think it right to consent, she would be happy and safe in the care of one who knew so well how to love her. Terrible as the wrench would be to Alison herself, she thought he deserved her sister, and that she would be as happy with him as earth could make her. But she did not believe Ermine would ever accept him. She knew the strong, unvarying resolution by which her sister had always held to what she thought right, and did not conceive that it would waver. The acquiescence in his visits, and the undisguised exultant pleasure in his society, were evidences to Alison not of wavering or relenting, but of confidence in Ermine's own sense of impossibility. She dm^st not give him any hope, though she owned that he merited success. " Did she tliinlc his visits bad for her sister 1 " he then asked in the luiselfish- ness that pleaded so strongly for him. " IS'o, certainly not," she answered eagerly, then made a little hesitation that made him ask further. "My only fear," she said candidly, "is, that if this is pressed much on her, and she has to struggle with you and herself too, it may hurt her health. Trouble tells not on her cheerfidness, but on her nerves." " Thank you," he said, " I will refi-ain." Alison was much happier than she had been smce the fii'st apprehension of his return. The first pang at seeing Ermine's ermine's resolution. 151 heart another's property had been subdued ; the present state of affairs was indefinitely prolonged, and she not only felt trust in Colin Keith's consideration for her sister, but she knew that an act of oblivion was past on her perj^etration of the injury. She was right. His original pitying repugnance to a mere unknown child could not be carried on to the grave, saddened woman devoted to her sister ; and in the friendly brotherly tone of that interview, each understood the other. And when Alison came home and said, " I have been wallving with Colm," her look made Ermine very happy. " And learning to know him." " Learning to sympathize with him, Ermine," with steady eyes and voice. " You are hard on him." " jSTow, Ailie," said Ermine, " once for all, he is not to set you on me, as he has done with Lady Temple. The more he persuades me, the better I know that to listen would be an abuse of his constancy. It would set him wrong with his brother, and, as dear Edward's affairs stand, we have no right to carry the supposed disgrace into a family that would believe it, though he does not. If I were ever so well, I should not think it right to marry. I shall not shun the sight of him ; it is dehghtful to me, and a less painful cure to him than sendmg him away woidd be. It is in the nature of thiags that he should cool into a friendly kindly feeling, and I shall try to bear it. Or if he does marry, it will be all right, I suppose — " but her voice faltered, and she gave a sort of broken laugh. " There," she said, with a recovered flash of liveliness, " there's my resolution, to do what I like more than anything in the world as long as I can ; and when it is over I shall be helped to do without it ! " 152 THE CLEVER "WOMAN OF THE FAMILY. " I can't believe " broke out Alison. " ]S[ot in your heart, but in your reason," said Ermine, endeavouring to smile. "He will hover about here, and always be kind, loving, considerate; but a time will come that he will want the home happiness I cannot give. Then he will not wear out his affection on the impossible literary crijDple, but begin over again, and be happy. And, Alison, if your love for me is of the sound, strong sort I know it is, you will help me through mth it, and never say one word to make all this less easy and obvious to him." WAITING FOR ROSE. 153 CHAPTER YII. WAITING FOR ROSE. " Not envy, sure ! for if you gave me Leave to take or to refuse In earnest, do you think I'd choose That sort of new love to enslave me? " — E. Browning. So, instead of going to Belfast, here was Colonel Keith actually taking a lodging and settling himself into it ; nay, even going over to Avoncester on a horse-huying expedition, not merely for the Temples, but for himself. This time Eachel did think herself sure of Miss WilKams' ear in peace, and came down on her wdth two fat manuscripts upon Human Eeeds and Military Society, preluding, however, by bitter complaints of the " Traveller " for never having vouchsafed her an answer, nor having even restored " Cura- tocult," though she had written three times, and sent a directed envelope and stamps for the purpose. The paper must be ruined by so discourteous an editor, indeed she had not been nearly so much interested as usual by the last few numbers. H only she could get her paper back, she should try the " Englishwoman's Hobby-horse," or some other paper of more progress than that " Traveller." " Is it not very hard to feel one's self shut out from the main stream of the work of the world when one's heart is burning ? " " I think you overrate the satisfaction." 154 THE CLEVER WOMAN OF THE FAMILY. " You can't tell ! You are contented with, that sort of iLome peaceful sunshine that I know suffices many. Even intellectual as you are, you can't tell what it is to feel power within, to strain at the leash, and see others in the race." " I was thinking whether you could not make an accept- able paper on the lace system, which you really know so thoroughly." " The fact is," said Rachel, " it is much, more difficult to describe from one's o^\ti observation than from other sources." " But rather more original," said Ermine, quite overcome by the 'naivete of the confession. " I don't see that," said Eachel. "It is abstract reasoning from given facts that I aim at, as you will understand when you have heard my ' Human Reeds,' and my other — dear me, there's your door bell. I thougbt that Colonel was gone for the day." " There are other people in the world besides the Colonel," Ermine began to say, though. sh.e bardly felt as if tbere were, and at any rate a sense of rescue crossed her. The persons admitted took them equally by surprise, being Conrade Temple and Mr. Keith. " I thought," said Rachel, as she gave her unwilling hand to the latter, " that you would bave - been at Avoncester to-day." " I always get out of the way of horse-dealing. I know no gTeater bore," he answered. " Mamma sent me do^Ti," Comrade was explaining ; " Mr. Keitb's uncle found out that he knew Miss Williams — no, that's not it. Miss Williams' uncle found out that ]Mr. Keith preached a sermon, or something of that sort, so mamma sent WAITING FOR ROSE. 155 me down to show him tlie way to Ccall upon lier ; "but I need not stay now, need 11" "After that elegant introduction and lucid exiDlanation, I think you may be excused," returned Alick Keith. The boy shook Ermine's hand with his soldierly grace, but rather spoilt the effect thereof by his aside, " I wanted to see the toad and the pictures our Miss Williams told me about, but I'll come another time ; " and the wink of his black eyes, and significant shrug of his shoulders at Eachel, were irresistible. They all laughed, even Eachel herself, as Ermine, seeing it would be worse to ignore the demonstration, said, " The elements of aunt and boy do not always work together." " JSTo," said Eachel ; "I have never been forgiven for beuig the first person who tried to keep those boys in order." "And now," said Ermine, turning to her other visitor, " perhaps I may discover which of us, or of our uncles, preached a sermon." " Mine, I suspect," returned Mr. Keith. " Your sister and I made out at luncheon that you had known my uncle, Mr. Clare, of Bishopsworthy." " Mr. Clare! Oh yes," cried Ermine eagerly; "he took the duty for one of our curates once for a long vacation. Did you ever hear liim speak of Beauchamp 1 " " Yes, often ; and of Dr. Williams. He will be very much interested to hear of you." " It was a time I well remember," said Ermine. " He was an Oxford tutor then, and I was about fourteen, just old enough to be delighted to hear clever talk. And his sermons were memorable; they were the first I ever listened to." 156 THE CLEVER WOMAN OF THE FAMILY. " There are few sermons that it is not an infliction to listen to," began Eachel, but she was not heard or noticed. " I assure you they are even more striking now in his blindness." " Blindness ! Indeed, I had not heard of that." Even Eachel listened with interest as the young officer explained that his uncle, whom both he and Miss Williams talked of as a man of note, of w^hom every one must have heard, had for the last four years been totally blind, but continued to be an active parish priest, visiting regularly, preaching, and taking a share in the service, which he knew by heart. He had, of course, a curate, who lived with him, and took very good care of him. " No one else 1 " said Rachel. " I thought your sister lived at Bishopsworthy." " ]^o, my sister lives, or has lived, at Little Worthy, the next parish, and as unlike it as possible. It has a railroad in it, and the cockneys have come down on it and ' villafied ' it. My aimt, Mrs. Lacy Clare, has lived there ever since my sister has been mth her ; but now her last daughter is to be married, she wishes to give up housekeeping." " And your sister is coming to Lady Temple," said Eachel, in her peculiar affirmative way of asking questions. " She will find it very dull here." " With all the advantages of Avoncester at hand ? " inquired Alick, with a certain gleam under liis flaxen eye- lashes that convinced Ermine that he said it in mischief. But Eachel drew herself up gravely, and answered — " In Lady Temple's situation any such tiling would be most inconsistent with good feeling." " Such as the cathedi-al 1 " calmly, not to say sleepily, WAITING FOR ROSE. 157 inquired Alick, to tlie excessive diversion of Ermine, wlio saw tliat Eachel liad never been laughed at in lier life, and was utterly at a loss what to make of it. " K you meant the cathedral," she said, a little uncertainly, recollecting the tone in which Mr. Clare had just been spoken of, and thinking that perhaps Miss Keith might be a curato- latress, " I am afraid it is not of much benefit to people living at this distance, and there is not much to be said for the imitation here." " You will see what my sister says to it. She only wants training to be the main strength of the Bishops Worthy choir, and perhaps she may find it here." Eachel was evidently undecided whether chants or marches were Miss Keith's passion, and, perhaps, which propensity would render the young lady the most distasteful to herself. Ermine thought it merciful to divert the attack by mentioning ]\Ir. Clare's love of music, and hoping his curate could gratify it. " jSTo," Mr. Keith said, " it was very unlucky that Mr. Lifibrd did not know one note from another; so that his vicar could not delude himself into hoping that his playing on his violin was anjrthing but a nuisance to his companion, and in spite of all the curate's persuasions, he only indulged himself therewith on rare occasions." Eut as Ermine showed surprise at the retention of a companion devoid of this sixth sense, so valuable to the blind, he added — " ISTo one would suit him so well. Mr. Lifford has been \\dth him ever since his sight began to fail, and imderstands all his ways." " Yes, that makes a great difference." " And," pursued the young man, coming to something like life as he talked of his uncle, " though he is not quite all that 158 THE CLEVER WOMAN OF THE FA3IILY. a companion might be, my uncle says there -would be no keeping the living mthout him, and I do not believe there would, unless my uncle would have me instead." Ermine laughed and looked interested, not quite knowing what other answer to make. Eachel lifted up her eyebrows in amazement. " Another advantage," added Alick, who somehow seemed to accept Ermine as one of the family, " is, that he is no impediment to Bessie's living there, for, poor man, he has a wife, but insane." " Then your sister will live there 1 " said Eachel. " AMiat an enviable position, to have the control of means of doing good that always falls to the women of a clerical family." " TeU her so," said the brother, Avith his odd, suppressed smile. " What, she does not think so 1 " " Kow," said Mr. Keith, leaning back, " on my answer depends whether Bessie enters this place with a character for chanting, croquet, or crochet. "\ATiich shoidd you like worst. Miss Curtis ? " " I like evasions worst of all," said Eachel, with a flash of something like playful spirit, though there was too much asperity in it. " But you see, unfortunately, I don't know," said Alick Keith, slowly. " I have never been able to find out, nor she either. I don't know what may be the effect of example," he added. Ermine wondered whether he were in mischief or earnest, and suspected a little of both. " I shall be very happy to show Miss Keith any of my ways," said Eachel, mth no doubts at all ; " but she will find me terribly impeded here. "Wlien does she come ? " WAITING FOR ROSE. 159 " Not for a month or six weeks, wlien tlie wedding will be over. It is liigli time slie saw something of her respected guardian." " The colonel ? " " Yes;" then to Ermine, " Every one turns to liim with re- liance and confidence. I believe no one in the army received so many last charges as he has done, or executes them more fully." "And," said Ermine, feeling pleasure colour her cheek more deeply than was convenient, " you are relations." " So far away that only a Scotsman would acknowledge the cousinship." " But do not you call yourself Scotch ? " said Ermine, who had for years thought it glorious to do so. " My great grandfather came from Gowanbrae," said Alick j " but our branch of the family has lived and died in the — th Highlanders for so many generations that we don't know what a home is out of it. Our birthplaces-— yes, and our graves — are in all parts of the world." " Were you ever in Scotland 1 " " I^ever ; and I dread nothing so much as being quartered there. Just imagine the trouble it would be to go over the pedigree of every Keith I met, and to dine with them all upon haggis and sheeps' head ! " " There's no place I want to see as much as Scotland," said EacheL " Oh, yes ! young ladies always do." "It is not for a young lady reason," said Eachel, bluntly. " I want to understand the principle of diffused education, as there practised. The only other places I should really care to see are the Grand Eeformatory for the Destitute in Holland, and the Hospital for Cretins in Switzerland." 160 THE CLEVER WOMAN OF THE FAMILY. " Scotch pedants, Dutch thieves, Swiss goitres — I will bear your tastes in mind," said Mr. Keith, rising to take leave. " Eeally," said Eachel, when he was gone, " if he had not that silly military tone of joking, there might be something tolerable about him if he got into good hands. He seems to have some good notions about his sister. She must be just out of the school-room, at the very turn of Hfe, and I will try- to get her into my training and show her a little of the real beauty and usefulness of the career she has before her. How late he has stayed ! I am afraid there is no time for the manuscripts." And though Ermine was too honest to say she was sorry, Eachel did not miss the regret. Colonel Keith came the next day, and under his arm was a parcel, which was laid in little Eose's arms, and, when unrolled, proved to contain a magnificent wax doll, no doubt long the object of unrequited attachment to many a little Avoncestrian, a creature of beauteous and unmeaning face, limpid eyes, hair that could be brushed, and all her mem- bers waxen, as far as could be seen below the provisional habiliment of pink paper that enveloped her. Little Eose's complexion became crimson, and she did not utter a word, while her aunt, colouring almost as much, laughed and asked where were her thanks. " Oh ! " with a long gasp, " it can't be for me ! " "Do you think it is for yoiu' aunt ? " said the colonel. " Oh, thank you ! But such a beautiful creatui-e for me ! " said Eose, with another gasp, quite opjDressed. "Aimt Ermine, how shall I ever make her clothes nice enough ? " " We will see about that, my dear. !N'ow take her into the verandah and introduce her to Yioletta." WAITING FOR ROSE. 161 " Yes ; " tlien pausing and looking into the fixed eyes, ' " Aunt Ermine, I never saw such a beauty, except that one the little girl left heliind on the bench on the esphmade, when Aunt Ailie said I should be coveting if I went on wishing Yioletta was like her." " I remember," said Ermine, " I have heard enough of that ne plus ultra of doll ! Indeed, Colin, you have given a great deal of pleasure, where the materials of pleasure are few. ]N'o one can guess the delight a doll is to a solitary imagina- tive child." " Thank you," he said, smiling. " I believe I shall enjoy it as much as Rose," added Ermine, " both for play and as a study. Please turn my chair a little this way, I want to see the introduction to Violetta. Here comes the beauty, in Eose's own cloak." Colonel Keith leant over the back of her chair and silently watched, but the scene was not quite what they expected. Violetta was sitting in her " slantingdicular " position on her chair placed on a bench, and her little mistress knelt doAvn before her, took her in her arms, and began to hug her. " Yioletta, darling, you need not be afraid ! There is a new beautiful creature come, and I shall call her Colinette, and we must be very kind to her, because Colonel Keith is so good, and knows your grandpapa; and to tell you a great secret, Yioletta, that you must not teU Colinette or anybody,. I think he is Aunt Ermine's own true knight." "Hush!" whispered the colonel, over Ermine's head, as he j^erceived her about to speak. " So you must be very good to her, Yioletta, and you shall help me make her clothes ; but you need not be afraid I ever could love any one half or one quarter as much as you, my VOL. I. M 162 THE CLEVER WOMAN OF THE FAMILY. own dear child, not if she were ten times as "beautiful, and so come and show her to Augustus. She'll never be like you, dear old darling." " It is a study," said the colonel, as Eose moved off with ai doll in either hand ; " a moral that you should take home." Ermine shook her head, but smiled, saying, " Tell me, , does your young cousin know " " Alick Keith 1 I!^ot from me, and Lady Temple is perfectly to be trusted ; but I believe his father knew it was for no worse reason that I was made to exchange. But never mind. Ermine, he is a very good fellow, and what is the use of making a secret of what even Violetta knows V* There was no debating the point, for her desire of secrecy was prompted by the resolution to leave him unbound, whereas his wish for publicity was mth the purpose of binding himself, and Ermine was determined that discussion was above all to be avoided, and that she would, after the first explanation, keep the conversation upon other subjects. So she only answered with another reproving look and smile, and said, " And now I am going to make you useful. The editor of the ' Traveller' is travelling, and has left his work to me. I have been keeping some letters for him to answer in his ovm hand, because mine betrays womanhood : but I have just heard that he is to stay about six weeks more, and people must be put out of their misery before that. Will you copy a few for me 1 Here is some paper with the office stamp." ** What an important woman you are, Ermiae." " If you had been in England all this time, you would see how easy the step is into literary work ; but you must not betray this for the Travellers sake or AHie's." WAITING FOR ROSE. 163 " Your writing is not very womanisli," said the colonel, as she gave him his task. " Or is this yours ? It is not like that of those verses on Malvern hills that you copied out for me, the only thing you ever gave me." " I hope it is more to the purpose than it was then, and it has had to learn to write in all sorts of attitudes." "What's this?" as he went on with the paper; "your manuscript entitled ' Curatocult.' Is that the word 1 I had taken it for the produce of Miss Curtis's unassisted genius." " Have you heard her use it?" said Ermine, disconcerted, having by no means intended to betray Eachel. " Oh yes ! I heard her declaiming on Sunday about what she knows no more about than Conrade ! A detestable, pragmatical, domineering girl ! I am thankful that I advised Lady Temple only to take the house for a year. It was right she should see her relations, but she must not be tyrannized over." " I don't believe she dislikes it." " She dislikes no one ! She used to profess a liking for a huge Irishwoman, whose husband had risen from the ranks ; the most tremendous woman I ever saw, except Miss Curtis." " You know they were brought up together like sisters." " All the worse, for she has the habit of passive submis- sion. If it were the mother it would be all right, and I should be thankful to see her in good keeping, but the mother and sister go for nothing, and down comes this girl to battle every suggestion with principles picked up from every catchpenny periodical, things she does not half under- stand, and enunciates as if no one had even heard of them before." " I believe she seldom meets any one who has. I mean to M 2 164 THE CLEVER WOMAN OF THE FAMILY. whom they are matters of thought. I really do like her vigour and earnestness." " Don't say so, Ermine ! One reason why she is so intolerable to me is that she is a grotesque caricature of what you used to be." " You have hit it ! I see why I always liked her, besides that it is pleasant to have any sort of visit, and a good scrimmage is refreshing ; she is just what I should have been without papa and Edward to keep me down, and without the civilizing atmosphere at the park." " :N"ever." " 'No, I was not her equal in energy and beneficence ; and I was younger when you came. But I feel for her longing to be up and doing, and her puzzled chafing against constraint and conventionality, though it breaks out in very odd efier- vescences." " Extremely generous of you when you must be bored to death with her interminable talk." " You don't aippreciate the pleasure of variety ! Besides, she really interests me, she is so full of vigorous crudities. I believe all that is unpleasing in her arises from her being considered as the clever woman of the family ; having no man nearly connected enough to keep her in check, and living in society that does not fairly meet her. I want you to talk to her, and take her in hand." " Me ! Thank you, Ermine ! Wliy, I could not even stand her talking about you, though she has the one grace of valuing you." " Then you ought, in common gi-atitude, for there is no little greatness of soul in patiently coming down to Mackarel Lane to be snubbed by one's cousin's governess's sister." WAITING FOR ROSE. 165 ** If you will come up to Myrtlewood, you don't know what j^ou may do." " No, you are to set no more people upon me, though Lady Temple's eyes are very wistful." " I did not think you would have held out against her." "ISTot when I had against you? JSTo, indeed, though I never did see anybody more winning than she is in that meek, submissive gentleness ! Alison says she has cheered up and grown like another creature since your arrival." "And Alexander Keith's. Yes, poor thing, we have brought something of her own old world, where she was a sort of little queen in her way. It is too much to ask me to have patience with these relations, Ermine. If you could see the change from the petted creature she was with her mother and husband, almost always the first lady in the place, and latterly with a colonial court of her own, and now, ordered about, advised, domineered over, made nobody of, and taking it as meekly and sweetly as if she were grateful for it ! I verily believe she is ! But she certainly ought to come away." " I am not so sure of that. It seems to me rather a dan- gerous responsibility to take her away from her own relations, unless there were any with equal claims." " Tliey are her only relations, and her husband had none. Still to be under the constant yoke of an overpowering woman with unfixed opinions seems to be an unmitigated evil for her and her boys j and no one's feelings need be hurt by her fixing herself near some public school for her sons' education. However, she is settled for this year, and at the end we may decide." With which words he again applied himself to Ermine's 166 THE CLEVER WOMAN OF THE FAMILY. correspondence, and presently completed the letter, offering to direct the envelope, which she refused, as having one already directed by the author. He rather mischievously begged to see it that he might judge of the character of the writing, but this she resisted." However, in four days' time there was a very comical twinkle in his eye, as he informed her that the new number of the "Traveller" was in no favour at the Homestead, *' there was such a want of original thought in it." Ermine felt her imprudence in having risked the betrayal, but all she did was to look at him with her full, steady eyes, and a little twist in each comer of her mouth, as she said, " Indeed ! Then we had better enliven it with the recollections of a military secretary," and he was both con-\dnced of what he guessed, and also that she did not think it right to tell him ; "But," he said, "there is something in that girl, I perceive, Ermine ; she does think for herself, and if she were not so dreadfully earnest that she can't smile, she would be the best company of any of the party." " I am so glad you think 'so ! I shall be delighted if you will really talk to her, and help her to argue out some of her crudities. Indeed she is worth it. But I suppose you will hardly stay here long enough to do her any good." "What, are you going to order me away?" " I thought your brother wanted you at home," " It is all very well to talk of an ancestral home, but when it consists of a tall, slim house, with blank walls and pepper- box turrets, set down, on a bleak liiU side, and every one gone that made it once a happy place, it is not attractive. More- over, my only use there would be to be kept as a tame heir. WAITING FOR ROSE. 167 bhe parson whose interference would be most resented, and I don't recognise that duty." "You are a gentleman at large, with no ohvious duty," said Ermine, meditatively. "What, none?" bending his head, and looking earnestly at her. " Oh, if you come here out of duty — " she said archly, and with her merry laugh. " There, is not that a nice occasion for x^icking a quarrel ? And seriously," she continued, " per- haps it might be good for you if we did. I am beginning to fear that I ought not to keep you lingering here without purpose or occupation." " Fulfil my purpose, and I will find occupation." " Don't say that." "This once. Ermine. For one year I shall wait in the hope of convincing you. If you do not change your mind in that time, I shall look for another staff appointment, to last till Eose is ready for me." The gravity of this conclusion made Ermine laugh. " That's what you learnt of your chief," she said. " There would be less difference in age," he said. " Though I own I should like my widow to be less helpless than poor little Lady Temple. So," he added, with the same face of ridiculous earnest, " if you continue to reject me yourself, you will at least rear her with an especial view to her efficiency in that capacity." And as Eose at that critical moment looked in at the window, eager to be encouraged to come and show Colin- ette's successful toilette, he drew her to him with the smile that had won her whole heart, and listening to every little bit of honesty about "my ^vork" and "Aunt Ermine's 168 THE CLEVER WOMAN OF THE FAMILY. work," lie told her that he knew she was a very managing domestic character, perfectly equal to the charge of both young ladies. " Aunt Ermine says I must learn to manage, because some day I shall have to take care of papa." " Yes," with his eyes on Ermine all the while, " learn to be a useful woman ; who knows if we shan't all depend on you by-and-by ? " " Oh do let me be useful to you," cried Eose ; " I could hem all your handkerchiefs, and make you a kettle-holder." Ermine had never esteemed him more highly than when he refrained from all but a droll look, and uttered not one word of the sportive courtship that is so peculiarly unwhole- some and undesirable with children. Perhaps she thought her colonel more a gentleman than she had done before, if that were possible ; and she took an odd, quaint pleasure in the idea of this match, often when talking to Alison of her views of life and education, putting them in the form of what would become of Eose as Lady Keith; and Colin kept his promise of making no more references to the future. On moving into his lodgings, the hour for his visits was changed, and imless he went out to dinner, he usually came in the evening, thus attracting less notice, and moreover rendering it less easy to lapse into the tender subject, as Alison was then at home, and the conversation was necessarily more general. The afternoons were spent in Lady Temple's service. In- stead of the orthodox dowager britchska and pair, ruled over by a tyrannical coachman, he had provided her with a herd of Httle animals for harness or saddle, and a young gi-oom, for whom Coombe was answerable. Mrs. Curtis groaned and WAITING FOR ROSE. 169 feared the establishment would look flighty ; but for the first time Eachel became the colonel's ally. " The worst despot- ism practised in England," she said, " is that of coachmen, ■ and it is well that Fanny should be spared ! The coachman who lived here when mamma was married, answered her request to go a little faster, ' I shall drive my horses as I plazes,' and I really think the present one is rather worse in deed, though not in word." Moreover, Eachel smoothed down a little of Mrs. Curtis's uneasiness' at Fanny's change of costume at the end of her first year of widowhood, on the ground that Colonel Keith advised her to ride with her sons, and that this was incom- patible with weeds. " And dear Sir Stephen did so dislike the sight of them," she added, in her simple, innocent way, as if she was still dressing to please him. " On the whole, mother," said Eachel, " unless there is more heart-break than Fanny professes, there's more coquetry in a pretty young thing wearing a cap that says * come pity me,' than in going about like other people." " I only wish she could help looking like a girl of seven- teen," sighed Mrs. Curtis. " If that colonel were but mar- ried ; or the other young man ! I'm sure she will fall into some scrape * she does not know how, out of sheer inno- cence." " Well, mother, you know I always mean to ride with her, and that will be a protection." "But, my dear, I am not sure about your riding with these gay officers ; you never used to do such things." " At my age, mother, and to take care of Fanny." And Mrs. Curtis, in her uncertainty whether to sanction the proceedings and qualify them, or to make a protest — 170 THE CLEVER WOMAN OF THE FAMILY. dreadful to herself, and more dreadful to Fanny, — j-ielded the point when she found herself not loacked up by her energetic daughter, and the cavalcade almost daily set forth jfrom Myrtlewood, and was watched with eyes of the greatest vexation, if not by kind Mrs. Curtis, by poor Mr. Touchett, to whom Lady Temple's change of dress had been a grievous shock. He thought her so lovely, so interesting, at first ; and now, though it was sacrilege to believe it of so gentle and pensive a face, was not this a return to the world 1 What had she to do with these officers ? How could her aunt permit it ? ISTo doubt it was all the work of his great foe. Miss Eachel. It was true that Eachel heartily enjoyed these rides. Hitherto she had been only allowed to go out under the escort of her tyrant the coachman, who kept her in very strict discipline. She had not anticipated anything much more lively with Fanny, her boys, and ponies ; but Colonel Keith had impressed on Conrade and Francis that they were their mother's prime protectors, and they regarded her bridle- rein as their post, keeping watch over her as if her safety depended on them, and ready to quarrel Avith each other if the roads were too narrow for all three to go abreast. And as soon as the colonel had ascertained that she and they were quite sufficient to themselves, and weR guarded by Coombe in the rear, he ceased to regard himself as bound to their company, but he and Eachel extended their rides in search of objects of interest. She liked doing the honours of the county, and achieved expeditions which her coachman had hitherto never permitted to her, in search of ruins, camps, churches, and towers. The colonel had a turn for geology, though a wandering life even with an Indian baggage -train WAITING FOR ROSE. 171 had saved Mm from incurring her contempt for collectors; hut he knew hy sight the character of the conformations of rocks, and when they had mounted one of the hills that surrounded Avonmouth, discerned hy the outline whether granite, gneiss, limestone, or slate formed the grander height heyond, thus leading to schemes of more distant rides to verify the conjectures, which Rachel accepted "with the less argument, hecause sententious dogmatism was not always possible on the hack of a skittish black mare. There was no concealing from herself that she was more interested hy this frivolous military society than hy any she had ever pre^dously met. The want of comprehension of her pursuits in her mother's limited range of acquaintance had greatly conduced hoth to her over-weening manner and to her general dissatisfaction with the world, and for the first time she was neither succumbed to, giggled at, avoided, nor put down with a grave, prosy reproof Certainly Alick Keith, as every one called him, nettled her extremely by his murmured irony, but the acuteness of it was diverting in such a mere lad, and showed that if he could only once be roused, he might be capable of better things. There was an excitement in his unexpected manner of seeing things that was engaging as well as provoking; and Eachel never felt content if he were at Myrtlewood without her seeing him, if only because she began to consider him as more dangerous than his elder namesake, and so assured of his position that he did not take any pains to assert it, or to cultivate Lady Temple's good graces ; he was simply at home and perfectly at ease with her. Colonel Keith's tone was different. He was argumentative where his young cousin was sarcastic. He was reading some 172 THE CLEVER WOMAN OP THE FAMILY. of the books over which Eachel had strained her capacities without finding any one with whom to discuss them, since all her friends regarded them as poisonous ; and even Ermine Williams, without being shaken in her steadfast trust, was so haunted and distressed in her lonely and unvaried life by the echo of these shocks to the faith of others, that absolutely as a medical precaution she abstained from dwelling on them. On the other hand Colin Keith liked to talk and argue out his impressions, and found in Eachel the only person with whom the subject could be safely broached, and thus she for the first time heard the subjects fairly handled. Hitherto she had never thought that justice was done to the argument except by a portion of the press, that drew conclusions which terrified while they allured her, whereas she appreciated the candour that weighed each argument, distinguishing principle from prejudice, and religious faith from conventional con- struction, and in this measurement of minds she felt the strength and acuteness of powers superior to her owti. He was not one of the men who prefer unintellectual women. Perhaps clever men, of a profession not necessarily requiring constant brain work, are not so much inclined to rest the mind with feminine empty chatter, as are those whose intellect is more on the strain. At any rate, though Colonel Keith was attentive and courteous to every one, and always treated Lady Temple as a prime minister might treat a queen, his tendency to conversation mth Eachel was becoming marked, and she grew increasingly prone to consult him. The interest of this new intercourse quite took out the sting of disappoint- ment, when again Curatocult came back, "decUned with thanks." Kay, before making a third attempt she hazarded a question on his opinion of female authorship, and much to WAITING FOR ROSE. 173 her gratification, and somewhat to lier surprise, heard that he thought it often highly useful and valuable. " That is great candour. Men generally grudge whatever they think their own privilege." " Many things can often be felt and expressed by an able woman better than by a man, and there is no reason that the utterance of anything worthy to be said should be denied, provided it is worthy to be said." " Ah ! there comes the hit. I wondered if you would get through without it." " It was not meant as a hit. Men are as apt to publish what is not worth saying as women can be, and some women are so conscientious as only to put forth what is of weight and value." " And you are above wanting to silence them by palaver about unfeminine publicity 1 " " There is no need of publicity. Much of the best and most wide-spread writing emanates from the most quiet, unsuspected quarters." " That is the benefit of an anonymous press." " Yes. The withholding of the name prevents well-man- nered people from treating a woman as an authoress, if she do not proclaim herself one ; and the difference is great between being known to write, and setting up for an authoress." "Between fact and pretension. But write or not write, there is an instinctive avoidance of an intellectual woman." " Not always, for the simple manner that goes with real superiority is generally very attractive. The larger and deeper the mind, the more there would be of the genuine humble- ness and gentleness that a shallow nature is incapable of. The very word hmnility presupposes depth." 174 THE CLEVER WOJIAN OF THE FAMILY. " I see what you mean," said Eachel. " Gentleness is not feebleness, nor lo^vness lowliness. There must he something, held hack." *' I see it daily," said Colonel Keith ; and for a moment . he seemed about to add something, but checked himself, and' took advantage of an interruption to change the conversation. " Superior natures lowly and gentle ! " said Eachel to herself. " Am I so to him, then, or is he deceiving himself] What is to be done 1 At my age ! Such a contravention of my principles ! A soldier, an honourable, a title in prospect, Fanny's major ! Intolerable ! No, no ! My property ab- sorbed by a Scotch peerage, when I want it for so many things ! ITever. I am sorry for him though. It is hard that a man who can forgive a woman for intellect, should be thrown back on poor little Fanny ; and it is gratifying . But I am untouched yet, and I will take care of myself. At my age a woman who loves at all, loves with all the gathered force of her nature, and I certainly feel no such passion. JSTo, certainly not ; and I am resolved not to be swept along till I have made up my mind to yield to the force of the torrent. Let us see." " Grace, my dear," said Mrs. Curtis, in one of her most confidential moments, " is not dear Eachel looking very well ? I never saw her dress so well put on." " Yes, she is looking very handsome," said Grace. " I am glad she has consented to have her hair in .that new way, it is very becoming to her." " I — I don't know that it is all the hair," said the mother, faltering, as if half ashamed of herseK; "but it seemed to me that we need not have been so uneasy about dear Fanny. I think, don't you? that there may be another attraction. "WAITING FOR ROSE. 175 To "be sure, it would be at a terrible distance from us ; but so good and kind as he is, it would be such a thing for you and Fanny as well " Grace gave a great start, " Yes, my dear," Mrs. Curtis gently prosed on with her speculation, " she would be a dreadful loss to us ; but you see, so clever and odd as, she is, and with such peculiar ideas, I should be so thankful to see her in the hands of some good, sensible man that would guide her." " But do you really think it is so, mother 1 '* " Mind, my dear, it is nothing to build on, but I cannot help being struck, and just thinking to myself. I know you'll not say anything." Grace felt much distressed after this communication had opened her eyes to certain little touches of softening and consciousness that sat oddly enough on her sister. From the first avowal of Colonel Keith's acquaintance with the Williamses, she had concluded him to be the nameless lover, and had been disappointed that Alison, so far from completing the confidence, had become more reserved than ever, leaving her to wonder whether he were indeed the same, or whether his constancy had survived the change of circumstances. There were no grounds on which to found a caution, yet Grace felt full of discomfort and distrust ; a feeling shared by Alison, who had never forgiven herself for her half con- fidence, and felt that it would be wiser to tell the rest, but was withheld by knowing that her motive would actuate her sister to a contrary course. That Colin should detach himself from her, love again, and marry, was what Ermine schooled herself to think fitting ; but Alison alternated between in- dignant jealousy for her sister, and the desire to warn Eachel 176 THE CLEVER WOMAN OF THE FAMILY. that she might at "best win only the reversion of his heart. Ermine was happy and content •with his evening visits, and would not take umbrage at the daily rides, nor the reports of drawing-room warfare, and Alison often wavered between the desire of preparing her, and the doubt whether it were not cruel to inflict the present pain of want of confidence. If that were a happy summer to some at Avonmouth, it was a very trying one to those two anxious, yet apparently un- interested sisters, who were but lookers-on at the game that affected their other selves. At length, however, came a new feature into the quiet summer life at Avonmouth. Colin looked in on Ermine one morning to announce, \vith shrugged shoulders, and a face almost making game of himself, that his brother was coming ! Lord Keith had been called to London on business, and would extend his journey to come and see what liis brother was doing. " This comes of being the youngest of the family," observed Colin, meditatively. " One is never supposed capable of taking care of one's self. "With Keith I shall be the gay extravagant young officer to the end of my days." " You are not forgiving to your brother," said Ermine. "You have it in your power to make me so," he said eagerly. " Then you Avould have nothing to forgive," she replied, smiling. Lady Temple's first thought -was a renewal of her ardent wish that Ermine should be at IMyrtlewood ; and that ]\Iack- arel Lane, and the governesship should be as much as possible kept out of sight. Ea'cu Alison w\as on her side ; not that she was ashamed of either, but she washed that Ermine should see and judge wdth her owai eyes of Colin's conduct, and also WAITING FOE ROSE. 177 eagerly hailed all that showed him still committed to her sister. She was proportionahly vexed that he did not think it exj^edient to harass Ermine with further invitations. " My brother knows the whole," he said, " and I do not wash to attempt to conceal anything." "I do not mean to conceal," faltered Fanny, ''only I thought it might save a shock — appearances — he might think hetter of it, if " " You thought only what was kind," answered the colonel, " and I thank you for it most warmly ; hut this matter does not depend on my brother's consent, and even if it did, Ermine's own true position is that which is most honourable to her." Having said this, he was forced to console Fanny in her shame at her own kind attempt at this gentle little feminine subterfuge. He gTatified her, however, by not interfering with her hospitable instincts of doing honour to and enter- taining his brgther, for whose sake her first approach to a dinner party was given ; a very small one, but treated by her and her household as a far more natural occurrence than was any sort of entertainment at the Homestead. She even looked surprised, in her quiet way, at Mrs. Curtis's proffers of assistance in the et ceteras, and gratefully answered for Coombe's doing the right thing, without troubling herself further. Mrs. Curtis was less easy in her mind, her house- wifely soul questioned the efficiency of her niece's establish- ment, and she was moreover persuaded that Lord Keith must be bent on inspecting his brother's choice, while even Eachel felt as if the toils of fate were being drawn round her, and let Grace embellish her for the dinner party, in an odd sort of mood, sometimes rejecting her attempts at decoration, some- VOL. I. N 178 THE CLEVER WOMAN OF THE FAMILY. times vouclisafing a glance at the glass, cliiefly to judge whether her loolvs were really as repellently practical and intellectual as she had been in the habit of supposing. The wreath of white roses, which she wore for the first time, certainly had a pleasing and softening effect, and she was' conscious that she had never looked so well ; then was vexed at the solicitude \vith which her mother looked her over, and fairly blushed -with annoyance at the good lady's evident i satisfaction. But, after all, Eachel, at her best, could not have com- peted with the grace of the quiet little figure that received them, the rich black silk giving dignity to the slender form, and a sort of compromise between A'eil and cap sheltering th© delicate fair face ; and with a son on each side, Fanny looked so touchingly proud and well supported, and the boys were so exultant and admiring at seeing her thus dressed, that it was a very pretty sight, and struck the first arrived of her guests, ISIr. Touchett, quite dumb' with admiration. Colonel Hammond, the two Keiths, and their young kinsman, completed the party. Lord Keith of Gowanbrae was best described by the' said young kinsman's words — " a long-backed Scotchman." He was so intensely Scottish that he made his brother look and sound! the same, whereas ordinarily neither air nor accent would have shown the colonel's nation, and there was no definable likeness between them, except, perhaps, the baldness of the forehead ; but the remains of Lord Keith's hair were silvered 1 red, whereas Colin's tliick beard and scanty locks were dark brown, and mth a far larger admixture of hoar-frost, though lie was the yomiger by twenty years, and his brother's appear- ance gave the impression of a fi\r greater age than fifty-eight ; there was the stoop of rheumatism, and a worn, thin look on. WAITING FOR ROSE. 179 the face, with its high cheek bones, narrow lips, and cold eyes, by no means winning. On the other hand, he was the most finished gentleman that Grace and Eachel had ever encountered ; he had all the gallant polish of manner that the old Scottish nobility have inherited from the French of the old regime — a manner that, though Colin possessed all its essentials, had been in some degree rubbed off in the frank- ness of his military life, but which the old nobleman retained in its full iDcrfection. Mrs. Curtis admired it extremely as a S23ecimen of the " old school." for which she had never ceased to mourn ; and Rachel felt as if it took her breath away by the likeness to Louis XIY. ; but, strange to say. Lady Temple acted as if she were quite in her element. It might be that the old man's courtesy brought back to her something of the tender cliivaby of her soldier husband, and that a sort of filial friendliness had become natural to her towards an elderly man, for she responded at once, and devoted herself to pleasing and entertaining him. Their civilities were something quite amusing to watch, and m the evening, with a complete perception of his tastes, she got up a rubber for him. " Can you bear it? You will not like to play?" murmured the colonel to her, as he rung for the cards, recollecting the many evenings of whist with her mother and Sir Stephen. " Oh ! I don't mind. I like anything like old times, and my aunt does not like playing " ISTo, for Mrs. Curtis had grown up in a family where cards were disapproved, and she felt it a sad fall in Fanny to be playing with all the skill of her long training, and receiving grand compliments from Lord Keith on joint victories over the two colonels. It was a distasteful game to all but the plaj^ers, for Eachel felt slightly hurt at the colonel's defection, N 2 180 THE CLEVER WOMAN OF THE FAMILY. and Mr. Touchett, with somewliat of Mrs. Curtis's feeling, that it was a backsliding in Lady Temple, suddenly grew absent in a conversation that he was holding with young. Mr. Keith upon — of all subjects in the world — lending, library books, and finally repaired to the piano, where Grace was playing her mother's favourite music, in hopes of dis- tracting her mind from Fanny's enormity ; and there he stood, mechanically thanking Miss Curtis, but all the time turning a melancholy eye upon the game. Alick Keith, meanwhile, sat himself down near Rachel and her mother, close to an open window, for it was so warm that even Mrs. Curtis enjoyed the air ; and perhaps because that watching the colonel had made Rachel's discoiu'ses somewhat less ready than usual, he actually obtained an interval in which to 5peak ! He was going the next day to Bishops AVorthy, there to attend his cousin's wedding, and at the end of a fortnight to bring his sister for her visit to Lady Temple. This sister was evidently his great care, and it needed but little leading to make him tell a good deal about her. She had, it seemed, been sent home from the Cape at about ten years old, when the regiment went to India, and her brother, who had been at school, then was with her for a short time before going out to join the regiment. " ^ATiy," said Rachel, recovering her usual manner, " you have not been ten years in the army !" " I had my commission at sixteen," he answered. " You are not six-and-twenty ! " she exclaimed. " You are as right as usual," was the reply, with liis odd little smile ; " at least till the 1st of August." " My dear ! " said her mother, more alive than Rachel to his amusement at her daughter's knoAving liis age better than WAITING FOR ROSE. 181 he did liimself, but adding, politely, " you are hardly come to the time of life for liking to hear that yoiir looks de- ceived ns." " Boys are tolerated," he said, with a quick glance at Eachel ; hut at that moment something many-legged and tickling flitted into the light, and dashed over her face. Mrs. Curtis was by no means a strong-minded woman in the matter of moths and crane-flies, disliking almost equally their sudden personal attentions and their suicidal propensities, and Eachel dutifully started up at once to give chase to the father-long-legs, and put it out of window before it had succeeded in deranging her mother's equanimity either by bouncing into her face, or suspending itself by two or three le^s in the wax of the candle. Mr. Keith seconded her efforts, but the insect was both lively and cunning, eluding them with a dexterity wonderful in such an apparently over- limbed creature, until at last it kindly rested for a moment with its wooden peg of a body slo]3ing, and most of its thread-like members prone upon a newspaper, Avhere Eachel descended on it -with her pocket-handkerchief, and Mr. Keith tried to inclose it mth his hands at the same moment. To liave crushed the fly w^ould have been melancholy ; to have come down on the young soldier's fingers, awkward ; but liachel did what was even more shockino" — ^lier hands did descend on, what should have been fingers, but they gave Avay under her — she felt only the leather of the glove between her and the newspaper. She jumped and very nearly cried out, looking up with an astonishment and horror only haK reassured by his extremely amused smile. " I beg your pardon ; I'm so sorr}^ " she gasped confused. " Inferior animals can dispense "SAdth a member more or 182 THE CLEVER WOMAN OP THE FAMILY. less," he replied, giving her the other comer of the paper, on which they bore theu* capture to the ivindow, and shook it till it took wing, with various legs streaming behind it. " That venerable animal is apparently indifferent to having left a third of two legs behind hiin," and as he spoke he removed the already half dra^vTi-off left-hand glove, and let Eachel see for a moment that it had only covered the thumlj, forefinger, two joints of the middle, and one of the third ; the little finger was gone, and the whole hand much scarred. She was still so much dismayed that she gasped out the first question she had ever asked him — "Where ?" '' IsTot under the handkerchief," he answered, picking it up as if he thought she wanted convincing. "At Delhi, I imagine." At that moment, Grace, as an act of general beneficence certainly pleasing to her mother, began to sing. It was a stop to all conversation, for Mrs. Curtis particularly disliked talking during singing, and Eachel had to digest her dis- coveries at her leisure, .as soon as she could collect herself after the unnatural and strangely lasting sensation of the solid giving way. So Grace was right, he was no boy, but really older than Fanny, the companion of her childhood, and who probably would have married her had not the general come in the way ! Here was, no doubt, the real enemy, while they had all been thinking of Colonel Keith. A man only now expecting his company ! It would sound more absurd. Yet Eachel was not wont to think hoAV things would sound ! And this fresh intense dislike provoked her. Was it the unsuitability of the young mdow remarrying ? " Surely, surely, it must not be that womanhood in its contemptible WAITING FOR ROSE. 183 side is still so strong that I want to keep all for myself ! Shame ! And tliis may he the true life love, suppressed, now ahle to revive ! I have no right to be disg-usted, I mil watch minutely, and judge if he will he a good guide and father to the boys, though it may save the colonel trouble. Pish ! what have I to do mth either 1 Why should I think about them ? Yet I must care for Eanny, I must dislike to see her lower herself even in the eyes of the world. Would it really be^ lowering lierseK? I cannot tell, I must think it out. I wish that game was over, or that Grace would let one speak." But songs -and whist both lasted till the evening was ended by Lady Temple coming up to the curate with her winnings and her pretty smile, " Please, Mr. Touchett, let this go towards some treat for the school children. I should not like to give it in any serious way, you know, but just for some little pleasure for them." If she had done it on purpose, she could not have better freshly riveted his chains. That pensive simplicity, with the smile of heartfelt satisfaction at giving pleasure to anybody, were more and more engaging as her sjoirits recovered their tone, and the most luisatisfactory consideration which Eachel carried away that evening was that Alexander Keith being really somewhat the senior, if the improvement in Fanny's spirits were really owing to his presence, the objection on the score of age w^ould not hold. But, thought Eachel, Colonel Keith being her own, what united power they shoidd have over Panny. Pooh ! she had by no means resigned herself to have him, though for Panny's sake it might be well, and was there not a foolish prejudice in favour of married women, that impeded the usefulness of single ones ? However, if the 184 THE CLEVER WOMAN OF THE FAMILY. I stiff, dry old man approved of her for her fortune's sake, that would be quite reason enough for repugnance. The stiff old man was the pink of courtesy, and paid his respects in due order to his brother's friends the next day, Colin attending in his old aide-de-camp fashion. It was curious to see them together. The old peer was not at all ungracious to his brother ; indeed, Colin had been agree- ably surprised by an amount of warmth and brotherliness that he had never experienced from him before, as if old age had brought a disposition to cling to the remnant of the once inconveniently large family, and make much of the last sur- vivor, formerly an undesirable youngest favourite, looked on mth jealous eyes and thwarted and retaliated on for former petting, as soon as the reins of government fell from the hands of the aged father. IS'ow, the elder brother was kind almost to patronizing, though evidently persuaded that Colin was a gay careless youth, with no harm in liim, but needing to be looked after ; and as to the Cape, India, and Australia being a larger portion of the world than Gowanbrae, Edin- burgh, and London, his lordship would be incredulous to the day of his death. He paid his formal and gracious visits at Myrtlewood and the Homestead, and then supposed that his brother would wish Mm to call ujDon " these unfortunate ladies." Colin certainly would have been vexed if he had openly slighted them ; but Alison, whom the brothers overtook on their way into Mackarel Lane, did not tliink the colonel looked in the most felicitous frame of mind, and thought the most chari- table construction might be that he shared her Abashes that she could be a few minutes in advance ; to secure that neither Eose's sports nor Colinette's toilette were very prominent. WAITING FOR ROSE. 185 All was right, however ; Ermine's taste for the fitness of things had trained Rose into keeping the little parlour never in stiff array, but also never in a state to he ashamed of, and she herself was sitting in the shade in the garden, whither, after the first introduction, Colin and Eose brought seats ; and the call, on the whole, went off extremely well. Ermine never let any one be condescending to her, and conducted the conversation with her usual graceful good breeding, while the colonel, with Rose on his knee, half talked to the child, half listened and watched. As soon as he had deposited his brother at the hotel, he came back again, and in answer to Ermine's " Well," he demanded, " What she thought of his brother, and if he were what she expected ? " " Very much, only older and feebler. And did he com- municate his views of Mackarel Lane ? I saw him regarding me as a species of mermaid or syren, evidently thinking it a great shame that I have not a burnt face. If he had only known about Rose ! " " The worst of it is that he wants me to go home with liim, and I am afraid I must do so, for now that he and I are the last in the entail, there is an opportunity of making an arrangement about the property, for which he is very anxious." " Well, you know, I have long thought it would be very good for you." " And when I am there I shall have to visit every one in the family ; " and he looked into her eyes to see if she would let them show concern, but she kept up their brave sj)arkle as she still said, " You know you ought." '• Then you deliver me up to Keith's tender mercies till '* " Till you have done your duty — and forgiven him." 186 THE CLEVER W03IAX OF THE FAMILY. " Eemember, Ermine, I can't sj^end a winter in Scotland. A cold always makes the ball remind me of its presence in my chest, and I was told that if I sjoent a winter at home, it must.be on the Devonshire coast." " That ball is sufficient justification for ourselves, I allow," she said, that one little word our mailing up for all that had gone before. " And meantime you will write to me — about Eose's edu- cation." " To be siu-e, or what would be the use of growing old 1 " AKson felt savage all through this interview. That perfect understanding and the playful fiction about waiting for Eose left him a great deal too free. Ermine might ahnost be supposed to want to get rid of liim, and even when he took leave she only remained for a few minutes leaning her cheek on her hand, and scarcely indulged in a sigh before asking to be wheeled into the house again, nor would she make any remark, save " It has been too bright a summer to last for ever. It would be very wrong to wish him to stay dangling here. Let what will happen, he is himself." It sounded far too like a dehberate resignation of him, and persuasion that if he went he would not retiu-n to be all he had been. However, the departure was not immediate. Lord Keith had taken a fancy to the place and scenery, and wished to see all the lions of the neighbourhood, so that there were various expeditions in the carriages or on horseback, in which he displayed his gTand courtesy to Lady Temple, and Eachel enjoyed the colonel's conversation, and would have enjoyed it still more if she had not been tracing a meaning in every attention that he paid her, and considering whether she was committing herself by receiving it. She was glad he was WAITING FOR ROSE. 187 going away that she might have time to face the subject, and make np her mind, for she was convinced that the object of his journey was to make himseK certain of his prospects. Wlien he said that he should return for the winter, and that he had too much to leave at Avonmouth to stay long away from it, there must be a meaning in his words. Ermine had one more visit from Lord Keith, and this time he came alone. He was in his most gracious and courteous mood, and sat talking of indifferent things for some time, of his aunt Lady AKson, and of Beauchamp in the old time, so that Ermine enjoyed the renewal of old associations and names belonging to a world unlike her present one. Then he came to Colin, Ms looks and his health, and his own desire to see him quit the army. Ermine assented to his health being hardly fit for the army, and restrained the rising indignation as she recollected what a difference the best surgical advice might have made ten years ago. And then, Lord I-Ceith said, a man could hardly be expected to settle down without marrying. He wished earnestly to see his brother married, but, unfortunately, charges on his estate would prevent him from doing anything for him ; and, in fact, he did not see any possibility of his — of his marrying, except a person Avith some means. " I understand," said Ermine, looking straight before her, and her colour mounting. " I was sure that a person of your great good sense would do so," said Lord Keith. " I assure you no one can be more sensible than myseK of the extreme forbearance, discretion, and regard for my brother's true welfare that has been shown here." 188 THE CLEVER WOMAN OF THE FAMILY. Ermine "bowed. He did not know that the vi^dd carmine that made her look so handsome was not caused by gratifica- tion at his praise, hut by the struggle to brook it patiently. " And now, knowing the influence over him that, most deservedly, you must always possess, I am induced to hope that, as his sincere friend, you -will exert it in favour of the more prudent counsels." " I have no influence over his judgment," said Ermine, a little proudly. " I mean," said Lord Keith, forced to much closer quarters, " you 'vvill excuse me for speaking thus openly — that in the state of the case, with so much depending on his making a satisfactory choice, I feel convinced, with every regret, that you will feel it to be for his true welfare — as indeed I infer that you have already endeavoured to show hiau — to make a new beginning, and to look on the past as past." There was something in the insinuating tone of this speech, increased as it was by the modulation of his Scottish voice, that irritated his hearer unspeakably, all the more because it was the very thing she had been doing. " Colonel Keith must judge for himself," she said, with a cold manner, but a burning heart. " I — I understand," said Lord Keith, " that you had most honourably, most consistently, made him aware that — that what once might have been desirable has unhappily become impossible." " WeU," said Ermine. " And thus," he proceeded, " that the sincere fiiendship wdth which you still regard liim would prevent any encourage- ment to continue an attachment, unhappily now hopeless and obstructive to his prospects." WAITING FOR ROSE. 189 Ermine's eyes flashed at the dictation. " Lord Keith," she said, " I have never sought your brother's visits nor striven to prolong them ; but if he finds pleasure in them after a life of disappointment and trouble, I cannot refuse nor discoui'age them." " I am aware," said Lord Keith, rising as if to go, " that I have trespassed long on yoiu' time, and made a suggestion only warranted by the generosity with wliich you have hitherto acted." " One may be generous of one's own, not of other people's," said Ermine. He looked at her puzzled, then said, '' Perhaps it will be best to speak categorically. Miss Williams. Let it be dis- tinctly understood that my brother Colin, in paying his addresses to you, is necessarily without my sanction or future assistance." " It might not be necessary, my lord. Good morning ;" and her courteous bow was an absolute dismissal. Eut when Alison came home she found her more depressed than she had allowed herseK to be for years, and on asking what was the matter was answered — " Pride and perverseness, Ailie ! " then, in reply to the eager exclamation, " I believe he was justified in all he said. But, Ailie, I have preached to Colin more than I had a right to do about forgiving his brother. I did not know how pro- voking he can be. I did not think it was still in me to fly out as I did!" " He had no business to come here interfering and tor- menting you," said AKson, hotly. " I dare say he thought he had ! But one coid.d not think of that when it came to threatening me with his giving no 190 THE CLEVER WOMAN OF THE FAMILY. help to CoUn if There was no resisting telling him how little we cared I " " You have not offended him so that he ^vill keep Coh'n away !" " The more he tried, the more Colin would come ! Xo, I am not sorry for having offended him. I don't mind him; but Ailie, how little one knows ! All the angry and hitter feelings that I thought burnt out for ever when I lay waiting for death, are stirred up as hotly as they were long ago. The old self is here as strong as ever ! Ailie, don't tell Colin about this ; but to-morrow is a saint's day, and would you see Mr. Touchett, and try to arrange for me to go to the early service ? I think then I might better be helped to conquer this."* " But, Ermine, how can you ? Eight o'clock, you know." " Yes, dearest, it will give you a great deal of trouble, but you never mind that, you know ; and I am so much stronger than I used to be, that you need not fear. Besides, I want help so much ! And it is the day Colin goes away !" Alison obeyed, as she always obeyed her sister ; and Lord Keith, taking his constitutional turn before breakfast on the esplanade, was met by what he so little expected to encounter that he had not time to get out of the way — a Bath chair with Alison waUiing on one side, his brother on the other. He bowed coldly, but Ermine held out her hand, and he was obliged to come near. " I am glad to have met jou !" she said. " I am glad to see you out so early," he answered, confused. " This is an exception," she said, smiHng and really look- ing beautiful. " Good-bye, I have thought over what passed WAITING FOR ROSE. 191 yesterday, and I believe we are more agreed than perhaps I gave you reason to think." There was a queenly air of dignified exchange of pardon in her manner of giving her hand and Lending her head as she again said " Good-bye," and signed to her driver to move on. Lord Keith could only say " Good-bye ;" then, looking after her, muttered, " After all, that is a remarkable woman." 192 THE CLEVER WOMAN OF THE FAMILY. CHAPTER YIIL woman's mission discovered. *' But unseen for three long years, Dear was the garb cf mountaineers To the fair maid of Lorn, " — Lokd of the Isles. " Only nerves," said Alison Williams, whenever she was 2DUshed hard as to why her sister continued unwell, and her own looks betrayed an anxiety that her words would not confess. Eachel, after a visit on the first day, was of the same opinion, and prescribed globules and enlivenment ; but after a personal administration of the latter in the shape of a discussion of Lord Keith, she never called in the morning without hearing that Miss Williams was not up, nor in. the afternoon without Alison's meeting her, and being very sorry, but really she thought it better for her sister to be quite quiet. In fact, ''Alison was not seriously uneasy about Ermine's health, for these nervous attacks were not without precedent, as the revenge for all excitement of the sensitive mind upon the much-tried constitution. The reaction must pass off in time, and calm and patience would assist in restoring her ; but the interview with Lord Keith had been a revelation to her that her aifection was not the calm, chastened, mortified, ahnost dead thing of the past that she had tried to beheve it ; but a young, living, active feeling, as YiYid. and as little able woman's mission discovered. 193 to brook interference as when the first harsli letter from Gowanhrae had fallen like a tliunderholt on the bright hopes of youth. She looked back at some verses that she had written, when first perceiving that life was to be her portion, where her own intended feelings were ascribed to a maiden who had taken the veil, believing her crusader slain, but who saw him return and lead a recluse life, with the liglit in her cell for liis guiding star. She smiled sadly to find how far the imaginings of four and twenty transcended the powers of four and thirty ; and how the heart that had deemed itself able to resign was chafed at the appearance of compulsion. She felt that the right was the same as ever ; but it was an increased struggle to maintain the resolute abstinence from all that coidd bind Colin to her, at the moment when he was most likely to be detached, and it was a struggle rendered the more trying by the monotony of a life, scarcely varied except by the brainwork, which §he was often obliged to reKnquish. JSTothing, however, here assisted her so much as Lady Temple's new pony carriage which, by Fanny's desire, had been built low enough to permit of her being easily lifted into it. Inert, and almost afraid of change. Ermine was hard to persuade, but Alison, guessing at the benefit, was against her, and Fanny's wistful eyes and caressing voice were not to be gainsaid; so she suffered herself to be placed on the broad easy seat, and driven about the lanes, enjoying most intensely the new scenes, the peeps of sea, the distant moors, the cottages with their glowing orchards, the sloping harvest fields, the variety that was an absolute healing to the worn spirits, and moreover, that quiet conversation with Lady Temple, often about the boys, but more often about Colonel Keith. VOL. I. O 194 THE CLEVER WOMAN OF THE FAMILY. l^ot only Ermine, but other inhabitants of Avonmouth found the world more flat in his absence. Rachel's interest was lessened in her readings after she had lost the pleasure of discussion, and she asked herself many times whether the tedium were indeed from love, or if it were simply from the absence of an agreeable companion. " I will try myself," she said to herself; "if I am heartily interested in my occupa- tions by the end of the next week, then I shall believe myself my own woman ! " But in going back to her occupations, she was more than ordinarily sensible of their unsatisfactoriness. One change had come over her in the last few months. She did not so much long for a wider field, as for power to do the few things within her reach more thoroughly. Her late discussions had, as it were, opened a second eye, that saw two sides of ques- tions that she had liitherto thought had only one, and she was restless and undecided between them, longing for some impulse from within or without, and hoping, for her own dignity and consistency's sake, that it was not only Colonel Keith's presence which had rendered this summer the richest in her life. A test was coming for her, she thought, in the person of Miss Keith. Judging by the brother, Rachel expected a tall fair dreamy blonde, requiring to be taught a true appreciation of life and its duties, and whether the traming of this young girl would again afford her food for eagerness and energ}', would, as she said to herself, show whether her affections were still her own. Moreover, there was the gTeat duty of deciding whether the brother were worthy of Fanny ! It chanced to be convenient that Rachel should go to Avoncester on the day of the arrival, and call at the station woman's mission discovered. 195 for the traA^eller. She recollected how, five months previously, she had there greeted Fanny, and had seen the bearded appari- tion since regarded with so much jealousy, and now with such 'a strangely mixed feeling. This heing a far more indifferent errand, she did not go on the platform, but sat in the carriage reading the report of the Social Science Congress, until the travellers began to emerge, and Captain Keith (for he had had his promotion) came up to her with a young lady Avho looked by no means like his sister. She was somewhat tall, and in that matter alone realized Eachel's anticipations, for she was black-eyed, and her dark hair was crepe and turned back from a face of the plump contour, and slightly rosy complexion that suggested the patches of the last century ; as indeed JSTature herself seemed to have thought when plant- ing near the corner of the mouth a little brown mole, that added somehow to the piquancy of the face, not exactly pretty, but decidedly attractive under the little round hat, and in the point device, though simple and plainly coloured travelling dress. " Will you allow me a seat % " asked Captain Keith, when he had disposed of liis sister's goods ; and on Eachel's assent, he placed himself on the back seat in his lazy manner. " If you were good for anything, you would sit outside and smoke," said his sister. '• If privacy is required for swearing an eternal friendship, I can go to sleep instead," he returned, closing his eyes. " Quite the reverse," Cjuoth Bessie Keith ; "he has pre- pared me to hate you all, Miss Ciu?tis." " On the mutual aversion principle," murmured the brother. " Don't you flatter yourself ! Have you foimd out. Miss 2 196 THE CLEVER WOMAN OF THE FAMILY. Curtis, that it is the property of this species always to go bj contraries ? " " To Miss Curtis I always appear in the meekest state o: assent," said Alick. " Then I would not be Miss Curtis. How horribly yoi must differ ! " Eachel was absolutely silenced by this cross fire ; something so unlike the small talk of her experience, that her mind could hardly propel itself into velocity enough to follow the rapid encounter of wits. However, having stirred up hei lightest troops into marching order, she said, in a puzzled, doubtful way, " How has he j)repared you to hate us ? — By praising us ? " " Oh, no ; that would have been too much on the surface. He knew the effect of that," looking in his sleepy eyes for a twinkle of response. " J^o ; his very reserve said, I am going to take her to ground too transcendent for her to walk on, but if I say one word, I shall never get her there at all. It was a deep refinement, you see, and he really meant it, but I was deeper," and she shook her head at him. " You are always trying wdiich can go deepest ? " said Eachel. " It is a sweet fraternal sport," returned Alick. " Have you no brother 1 " asked Bessie. " E'o." " Then you don't know what detestable creatm-es they are ; " but she looked so lovingly and saucily at her big brother, that Eachel, spite of herself, was absolutely fasci- nated by this novel form of endearment. An answer was spared her by Miss Keith's rapture at the sight of some soldiers in the uniform of her father's old regiment. woman's mission discovered. 197 " Have ca care, Bessie ; Miss Curtis wiU despise you," said ler "brother. "Why should you think soT' exclaimed Eachel, not desirous of putting on a forbidding aspect to this bright creature. " Have I not been \Yithered by yoiu' scorn 1 " " I I " Eachel was going to say something of her change of opinion Avith regard to military society, but a sudden consciousness set her cheeks in a flame and checked her tongue; while Bessie Keith, with ease and readiness, fiUed up the blank. " What, Alick, you have brought the service iiito disrepute ! I am ashamed of you !" " Oh, no !" said Eachel, in spite of her intolerable blushes, feeling the necessity of delivering her confession, like a cannon- ball among skirmishers ; " only we had been used to regard officers as necessarily empty and frivolous, and oik recent experience has— has been otherwise." Her period altogether failed her. " There, Alick, is that the effect of yoiu- weight of wisdom? I shall be more impressed with it than ever. It has re- deemed the character of your profession. Captain Keith and the army." "I am afraid I cannot flatter myself," said Alick; and a sort of reflection of Eachel's burning colour seemed to have lighted on his cheek; "its reputation has been in better hands." "O Colonel Colin! Depend upon it, he is not half as sage as you, Alick. ^Vhy, he is a dozen years older 1— Wliat, don't you know. Miss Curtis, that the older people grow the less sage they get 1 " " I hope not," said Eachel. 198 THE CLEVER WOMAN OF THE FAMILY. ^' Do you ! A contrary persuasion sustains me when I see people obnoxiously sage to their fellow-creatures." " Obnoxious sageness in youth is the token that there is stuft' behind," said Alick, with eagerness that set his sister laughing at him for fitting on the cap ; but Eachel had a sort of odd dreamy perception that Bessie Keith had unconsciously described her (Eachel's) own aspect, and that Ahck was defending her, and she was silent and confused, and rather surprised at the assumption of the character by one who she thought could never even exert himself to be obnoxious. He evidently did not wish to dwell on the subject, but began to inc^uire after Avonmouth matters, and Eachel in return asked for Mr. Clare. " Yery well," was the answer ; '." unfailing in spirits, every one agreed that he was the youngest man at the wedding." " Having outgrown his obnoxious sageness," said Bessie. " There is nothing he is so adroit at as guessing the fate of a croquet-ball by its sound." " I^ow Bessie," exclaimed Alick. " I have not transgressed, have I ? " asked Bessie ; and in the exclamations that followed, she said, " You see what want of confidence is. This brother of mine no sooner saw you in the carriage than he laid his commands on me not to ask after your croquet-ground all the way home, and the poor word camiot come out of my mouth -without " " I only told you not to bore Miss Curtis with the eternal subject, as she would think you had no more brains than one of your mallets," he said, somewhat energetically. " And if we had begun to talk croquet, we should soon have driven him outside." woman's mission discovered. 199 " But suppose I could not talk it," said Eacliel, " and that we liave no ground for it." " W\ij, then," — and she affected to turn up her eyes, — '' I can only aver that the coincidence of sentiments is no douht the work of destiny." " Bessie !" exclaimed her brother. " Poor old fellow ! you had excuse enough, lying on the sofa to the tune of tap and click ; but for a young lady in the advanced ranks of civihzation to abstain is a mere marvel." " Surely it is a great waste of time," said Eachel. " Ah ! when I have converted you, you mil wonder what people did with themselves before the invention." " Woman's mission discovered !" quoth her brother. " Also man's, unless he neglects it," retiu^ned Miss Eliza- beth ; " I wonder, now, if you Avould play if Miss Curtis did." "Wisdom never pledges itseK how it will act in hypo- thetical circimistances," was the reply. " Hypothetical," syllabically repeated Bessie Keith ; " did you teach him that word, Miss Curtis? Well, if I don't bring about the h}^3othetical circimistances, you may call me hyperbolical." So they talked, Eachel in a state of bewilderment, whether she were teased or enchanted, and Alexander Keith's quiet nonchalance not concealing that he was in some anxiety at his sister's reckless tallv ; but, perhaps, he hardly estimated the effect of the gay, quaint manner that took all hearts by storm, and gave a frank careless grace to her nonsense. She grew graver and softer as she came nearer Avonmouth, and spoke tenderly of the kindness she had received at the time 200 THE CLEVER WOMAN" OF THE FAMILY. of her motlier's death at the Cape, when she had been brought to the general's, and had there remained like a child of the house, till she had been sent home on the removal of the regiment to India. " I remember," she said, " Mrs. Curtis kept great order. In fact, between ourselves, she was rather a dragon; and Lady Temple, though she had one child then, seemed like my companion and playfellow. Dear little Lady Temple, I wonder if she is altered ! " " JSTot in the least," returned both her companions at once, and she w^as quite ready to agree with them when the slender form and fair young face met her in the hall amid a cloud of eager boys. The meeting was a full renewal of the parting, warm and fond, and Bessie so comported herseK on her introduction to the children, that they all became enamoured of her on the spot, and even Stephana relaxed her shyness on her behalf. That sunny gay good-nature could not be withstood, and Eachel, again sharing Fanny's first dinner after an arrival, no longer sat apart despising the military atmosphere, but listening, not without amusement, to the account of the humours of the wedding, mingled with Alick Keith's touches of satire. " It was very stupid," said Bessie, " of none of those girls to have Uncle George to marry them. My aunt fancied he would be nervous, but I know he did- marry a couple when Mr. Lifford was away ; I mean him to marry me, as I told them aU." "You had better wait till you know whether he will," observed Alick. " Will 1 Oh, he is always pleased to feel he can do like other people," returned Bessie ; and I'll undertake to see that woman's mission discovered. 201 he puts the ring on the right — I mean the left finger. Be- cause you'll have to give me away, you know, Alick ; so you can look after him." "You seem to have arranged the programme pretty thoroughly," said Eachel. " After four weddings at home, one can't hut lay hy a little experience for the future," returned Bessie ; " and after all, Alick need not look as if it must he for oneself. He is quite welcome to profit hy it, if he has the good taste to want my uncle to marry him." " ]^ot unless I were very clear that he liked my choice," said Alick, gravely. " Oh, dear ! Have you any douhts, or is that meant for a cut at poor innocent me, as if I could help people's foUy, or as if he was not gone to Eio Janeiro," exclaimed Bessie, with a sort of meek simplicity and unconsciousness that totally removed all the unsatisfactoriness of the speech, and made even her hrother smile while he looked annoyed ; and Lady Temple quietly changed the conversation. Alick Keith was ohliged to go away early, and the three ladies sat long in the garden outside the ^vindow, in the summer twilight, much relishing the frank-hearted way in which tliis engaging girl talked of herself and her difficulties to Fanny as to an old friend, and to Eachel as helonging to Fanny. " I am afraid that I was very naughty," she said, with a hand laid on Lady Temple's, as if to win pardon; "but I never can resist plaguing that dear anxious hrother of mine, and he did so dreadfully take to heart the absurdities of that little Charlie Carleton, as if any one with brains could tliink liim good for an}i:hing but a croquet partner, that I could not help gi^dng a little gentle titillation. 202 THE CLEVER WOMAN OF THE FAMILY. I saw you did not like it, dear Lady Temple, and I am sorry •for it." " I hofje I did not vex you," said Fanny, afraid of having been severe. " Oh, no, indeed ; a little check just makes one feel one is cared for," and they kissed aifectionately : " you see when one has a very wise brother, plaguing him is irresistible. How little Stephana Avill plague hers, in self-defence, with so many to keep her in order." " They aU spoil her." " Ah, this is the golden age. See what it will be when they think themselves . responsible for her ! Dear Lady Temple, how could you send him home so old and so grave I " " I am afraid we sent him home very ill. I never expected to see him -so perfectly recovered. I could hardly believe my eyes when Colonel Keith brought him to the carriage not in the least lame." ^' Yes ; and it was half against his will. He would have been almost glad to be a lay curate to Uncle George, only he knew if he was fit for service my father would have been vexed at his giving up his profession." " Then it was not his choice ! " said Eachel. ^' Oh, he was born a soldier, like all the rest of us, couldn't help it. The — tli is our home, and if he woidd only take my hint and marry, I could be with him there, now ! Lady Temple, do pray send for all the eligible officers — I don't know any of them now, except the two majors, and Alick suspects my designs, I believe, for he won't tell me anything about them." " My dear ! " said Fanny, bewildered, " how you talk ; you know we are living a very quiet life here." woman's mission discovered. 203 " Oh, yes, so Alick lias told me," she said, with a pretty comj)iuictioii in her tone ; " you must he j)atient with me," and she kissed Fanny's fingers again and spoke in a gentler way. " I am used to he a great chatter-hox, and nobody pro- tested hut Alick." " I wish you would tell me about liis return, my dear ; he seemed so unfit to travel when your poor father came to the hills and took him away by dak. It seemed so imj)ossible he could bear the journey ; he could not stand or help himseK at all, and had constant returns of fever ; but they said the long sea voyage was the only chance, and that in India he could not get vigour enough to begin to recover. I was very unhappy about him," said Fanny, innocently, whilst Eachel felt very vigilant, wondering if Fanny were the cause of the change his sister spoke of. " Yes, the voyage did him good, but the tidings of papa's death came two months before him, and Uncle George's eyes w^ere in such a state that he had to be kept in the dark, so that no one could go and meet the poor dear boy at South- ampton but Mr. Lifford, and the shock of the news he heard brought the fever back, and it went on intermitting for weeks and weeks. We had him at Littleworthy at first, thinking he could be better nm-sed and more cheerful there, but there was no keeping the house quiet enough." " Croquet ! " said Eachel. " Everything ! " returned Bessie. " Four courtships in more or less progTess, besides a few flirtations, and a house where all the neighbours were running in and out in a sociable way. Our loss was not as recent there as it was to him, and they were only nieces, so we could not have interfered with them ; besides, my aunt was afraid he would be dull, and 204 THE CLEVER WOMAN OF THE FAMILY. wanted to make the most of her conquering hero, and every- body came and complimented him, and catechised him whether he believed in the Indian mutilations, when, poor fellow, he had seen horrors enough never to bear to think of them, except when the fever brought them all over again. I am sure there was excuse enough for his being a little irritable." " My dear," exclaimed Fanny, quite hurt, " he was patience itself while he was with us." " That's the difference between illness and recovery, dear Lady Temple ! I don't blame him. Any one might be irritable with fresh undetected splinters of bone always working themselves out, all dow^n one side ; and doubts which were worse, the fingers on, or the fingers off, and no escape from folly or politeness, for he could not even use a crutch. Oh, no, I don't blame him; I quite excuse the general dislike he took to everything at poor dear Little- worthy. He viewed it all like that child in Mrs. Browning's poem, * seeing through tears the jugglers leap,' and we have partaken of the juggler aspect to him ever since ! " " I don't think he could ever be very initable," said Fanny, taking the accusation much to heart. " Sister and recovery ! " lightly said Bessie ; " they en- counter what no one else does ! He onty pined for Bishops- worthy, and when we let him move there, after the first month, he and my uncle were happy. I stayed there for a little while, but I was only in the way, the dear good folks were always putting themselves out on my account ; and as to Alick, you can't think liow the absence of his poor " souffre-douleur,^' invigoratel him. Every day I found him able to put more pomt into his cutting compliments, and woman's mission discovered. 205 reading to my uncle with more energy ; till at last by the time the — th came home, he had not so much as a stiff leg to retire upon. Luckily, he and my uncle both cared too much for my poor father's wishes for him to do so without, though if any unlucky chance should take Mr. Liiford away from my uncle, he threatens coming to supply the vacancy, miless I should, and that is past hope." " Your home is with your uncle," affirmed Eachel. "Yes," she said, mournfully, " dear Littleworthy was too happy to last. It broke itself up by its own charms — all married and gone, and the last rose of summer in my poor person must float away. Jane wants her mother and not me, and my uncle will submit to me as cheerfully as to other necessary evils. It is not myself that I fear for ; I shall be very happy with the dear uncle, but it will be a dreadful overthrow to his habits." " I do not see why it need be," said Rachel. " "WHiat ! two old bachelors with a young lady turned in on them ! And the housekeeper — think of her feelings ! " "I do not think you need be uneasy, my dear," said Fanny. " Y^our brother is convinced that it will be the greatest pleasure and comfort to Mr. Clare to have you ; and though there may be difficulties at first, I am sure anybody must be the happier for having you," and she caressed the upturned face, which responded warmly, but with a sigh. " Alick is no judge ! He is the child of the house, and my uncle and Mr. Liiford don't feel complete without him, My uncle is as fond of me as can be, and he and I could get on beautifully ; but then Mr. Lifford is impracticable." " Impracticable ? " said Eachel, taking up the long word. 206 THE CLEVER WOMAN OF THE FAMILY. " He objects to your exertmg yourself in the parisli. I know what that is." " Pray, Eachel," said Fanny, imploringly, " pray don't say anything against him ! I am very sorry he has annoyed you, hut I do like him." " Oh, does he play croquet 1 " cried Bessie. " I gather," said Eachel, in her impressive tone, a little disappointed, " that by impracticable you mean one w^ho will not j)lay croquet." " You have hit it ! " laughed Bessie. " Who wtU neither play at croquet, nor let one w^ork except in his way. Well, there are hopes for you. I cure the curates of every cure I come near, except, of course, the cure that touches me most nearly. The shoemaker's w^ife goes the worst shod ! I'll tame yours." " My dear, I can't have poor Mr. Touchett made game of." " I won't make game of him, dear Lady Temple, onl}^ make him play a game." " But you said Alick did not apj^rove," said Fanny, with the dimmest possible ideas of what croquet was, and believing it a wicked flirtation trap that figured in " Punch." " Oh, that's fudge on Master Alick's part! Just the remaius of his old miseries, poor fellow. "WTiat he wants is love ! l!^ow he'll meet his fate some of these days ; and as he can't meet three Englishwomen without a mallet in hand, love and croquet will come together." " Alick is very good," went on Lady Temple, not an- swering, but arguing with herself w^hether this opposition could be right. " Colonel Hammond gave me such an account of him, so valuable and excellent among the men, and doing all that is possible for their welfare, interesting himself about woman's mission discovered. 207 their library, and the regimental school and all. The colonel said he mshed only that he was a little more easy and popular among the young officers ; but so many of his own standing were gone by the time he joined again, that he lives almost too much to himself, reads a good deal, and is most exemplary, but does not quite make his influence as available as it might be." " That's just it," cried Bessie, eagerly; " the boy is a lazy boy, and wants shaking up, or he'll get savage and no good. Can't you see, by the way he uses his poor little sister, what- an awful don Captain Keith must be to a schoolboy of an ensign? He must be taught toleration and hunted into amiability, or he'll be the most terrible Turk by the time he is a colonel; and you are the only person that can do it, dear Lady Temple." Eachel did not much like this, but it was so prettily and pla^^ully said that the pleasing impression was quite pre- dominant ; and when Eachel took leave, it was with a sense of vexation that a person whom she had begun to esteem should be hard upon tliis bright engaging sister. Yet it might be well if Fanny took note of the admission that he could be irritable as well as stern, and sometimes mistaken in his judgments. What would the Colonel say to all this 1 The Colonel — here he was coming back again into her imagination. Another symptom ! The brother left the field entirely to his sister for the present; he was a good deal occupied after liis leave, and other officers being away, he was detained at Avoncester, and meantime Bessie Keith took all hearts by storm mth her gay good humour and eager sympathy. By the end of the first morning she had been to the stable with a swarm of 208 THE CLEVER WOMAN OF THE FAMILY. ^j boys, patted, and learnt tlie names of all, the ponies ; she was on the warmest terms with the young spaniel, that, to the Curtises' vexation, one of the officers had given Conrade, and which was always getting into the way; she had won Alison by telling her of ]VIr. Clare's recollections of Ermine's remarkable beauty and intelligence, and charmed Ermine herself by his kind messages and her own sunshiny brightness ; she had delighted Mrs. Curtis and Grace by appreciating their views and their flowers ; she had discussed hymnals and chants with Mr. Touchett, and promised her services ; she had given a brilliant object lesson at Mrs. Kelland's, and received one herself in lace-making ; and had proved herself, to Eachel's satisfaction, equally practical and well-read. All the outer world was asking, " Have you seen the young lady with Lady Temple ? " Nothing came amiss to her, from the antiquity of man to Stephana's first words ; and whether she taught Grace new stitches, played cricket with Conrade, made boats for Cyril, prattled with Lady Temple, or studied with Eachel, all was done with grace, zest, and sympathy peculiarly her own. Two practisings at the school removed the leaden drawl, and lessened the twang of the choir ; and Mr. Touchett looked quite exalted, while even Eachel owned that she had hardly believed her ears. Eachel and she constituted themselves particular friends, and Grace kept almost aloof in tlie fear of disturbing them. She had many friends, and this was the first, except Ermine Williams, to whom Eachel had taken, since a favourite com- panion of her youth had disappointed her by a foolish mar- riage. Bessie's confidences had a vigour in them that even Eachel's half-way meetings could not check, and then the woman's mission discovered. 209 sharp, clever tilings slie would say, in accordance with Eachel's views, were more sympathetic than anything she had met with. It was another new charm to life. One great pleasure they enjoyed together was bathing. The Homestead possessed a little cove of its o\vn imder the rocks, where there was a bathing-hoase, and full perfection of arrangement for young ladies' aquatic enjoyment, in safety and absolute privacy. Eachel's vigorous strength and health had been greatly promoted by her familiarity -with salt water, and Bessie was in ecstasies at the naiad performances they shared together on the smooth bit of sandy shore, where they dabbled and floated fearlessly. One morning, when they had been down very early to be beforehand with the tide, which put a stop to their enjoyment long before the breakfast hour, Bessie asked if they could not profit by their leisure to climb round the edge of the chffs instead of returning by the direct path, and Eachel agreed, Avith the greater pleasure, that it was an enterprise she had seldom performed. Very beautiful, though adventurous, was the walk — ^now on the brow of the steep cliff, looking down on the Avater or on little bays of shingle ; now through bits of thicket that held out brambles to entangle the long tresses streaming on their shoulders ; always in the brisk morning air, that fiUed them with strength and spirit, laughing, joking, calling to one another and to Conrade's little dog, that, like every other creature, had attached itself to Bessie, and had followed her from M}Ttlewood that morning, to the vexation of Eachel, who had no love for dogs in their early youth. They were beyond the grounds of the Homestead, but had to go a little further to get into the path, when they paused above a sort of dip or amphitheatre of rock around a little VOL. I. P 210 THE CLEVER WOMAN OF THE FAMILY. bay, whilst Eacliel began telling of tbe smugglers' traditions that haunted the place — how mucli brandy and silk had there been landed in the time of the great French war, and how once, when hard pressed, a party of smugglers, taking a short cut in the moonlight midnight across the Homestead gardens, had encountered an escajoed Guinea-pig, and no doubt taking it for the very rat without a tail, in whose per- son Macbeth's Avitch was to do, and to do, and to do, had been nearly scared out of their wits. Her story was cut short by a cry of distress from the dog, and looking down, they perceived that the poor fellow had been creeping about the rocks, and had descended to the little cove, whence he was incapable of climbing up again. They called encouragingly, and pretended to move away, Ijut he only moaned more despairingly, and leapt in vain. " He has hurt his foot ! " exclaimed Eachel j " I must go down after him. Yes, Don, yes, poor fellow, I'm coming." " My dear Curtia, don't leap into the gulf ! " " Oh, it's no great height, and the tide will soon fill up this place." " Don't ! don't ! You'll never be able to get up again." But Eachel was already scrambling down, and, in effect, she was sure-footed and used to her own crags, nor was the distance much above thirty feet, so that she was soon safe on the shingle, to the extreme relief of poor Don, shown by grateful whines ; but he was still evidently in pain, and Eachel thought his leg was broken. And how to get up the rock, mth a spaniel that when she tried to lift it became apparently twice the size she had always believed it to be, and where both hands as well as feet were required, with the sea fast advancing too 1 woman's mission discovered. 211 " My dear Eacliel, you mil only break yoiir neck, too ; it is quite vain to try ! " " If you could just come to that first rock, perhaps I could push, him up to you ! " Eessie came to it, but screamed. " Oh, I'm not steady ; I couldn't do it ! Besides, it would hurt him so, and I know you would fall. Poor fellow, it is very sad ; but indeed, Eachel, your life is more precious than a dog's ! " " I can't leave him to drown," said Eachel, making a desperate scramble, and almost overbalancing herself . " Here, if you could only get him by the scrough of his neck, it would not hurt him so much ; poor Don, yes, poor fellow ! " as he whined, but still showed his confidence in the touching maimer of a sensible dog, knowing he is hurt for his good. Bessie made another attempt, but, unused to rocks, she was uneasy about her footing, and merely frightened herself. " Indeed," she said, " I had better run and call some one ; I won't be long, and you are really quite safe." " Yes, quite safe. If you were down here and I above I am sure we could do it easily." "Ah ! but I'm no cragswoman ; I'll be back instantly." " That way, that's the shortest ; call to Zack or his father," cried Eachel, as the light figure quickly disappeared, leaving her a little annoyed at her predicament. She was not at all alarmed for herself, there was no real danger of drowning, she could at any moment get up the rock herself if she chose to leave the dog to its fate j but that she could not bear to think of, and she even tliought the stimulus of necessity might prove the mother of invention, if succour should not come before that lapping flux and reflux of water should have crept up the shingly beach on which she stood; but she was p2 212 THE CLEVER WOMAN OF THE FAMILY. anxious, and felt more and more dra-^Ti to the poor dog, so : suffering, yet so patient and confiding, ^or did slie like the awkwardness of being helped in what ought to be no diffi- culty at all to a native, and would not have been had herr companion been Grace or even Conrade. Her hope was that ■ her ally Zack would come, as she had directed Bessie towards i the cottage ; but, behold, after a wearily long interv^al, it was , no blue jacket that appeared, but a round black sea-side hat, and a sort of easy clerical-looking dress, that Bessie was fluttering before ! Few words were required, the stranger's height and length of arm did all that was needful, and Don was placed in safety with less pain and outcry than could have been hoped, Eachel ascending before the polite stranger had time to offer his assistance. The dog's hurt was, he agreed with Rachel, a broken leg, and liis offer of carrj-ing it home could not be refused, especially as he touched it with remarkable tender- ness and dexterity, adding that with a splint or two, he thought he had surgery enough to set the limb. They were much nearer the Homestead than to Myrtle- wood, and as it had been already agreed that Bessie should breakfast there, the three bent their steps up the bill as fast as might be, in consideration of Mrs. Curtis's anxieties. Bessie in a state of great exultation and amusement at the romantic adventure, Eachel somewhat put out at the untoward mishap that obliged her to be beholden to one of the casual visitors, against whom her mother had such a prejudice. Still, the gentleman himself was far from objectionable, in appearance or manner ; his air was that of an educated man, his dress that of a clergjmian at large, his face keen. Eachel remembered to have met him once or twice in the town woman's mission discovered. 213' within the last few days, and wondered if lie could be a person who had called in at the lace school and asked so many questions that Mrs. Kelland had decided that he could he after no good ; he must be one of the Parliament folks that they sent down to take the bread out of children's mouths by not letting them work as many hours as was good for them, ^ot quite believing in a Government commission on lace-making grievances, Eachel was still prepared to greet a kindred spirit of philanthropy, and as she reflected more, thought that perhaps it was well that an introduction had been procured on any terms. So she thawed a little, and did not leave all the civility to Miss Keith, but graciously responded to the stranger's admira- tion of the views, the exquisite framings of the summer sea and sky made by tree, rock, and rising ground, and the walks so well laid out on the little headland, now on smooth turf, now bordering slopes wild with fern and mountain ash, now amid luxuriant exotic shrubs that attested the mildness of Avon- mouth winters. When they came near the front of the house, Eachel took man and dog in through the open window of her own sitting- room, and hastened to provide him with bandages and splints, leaving Bessie to reassure Mrs. Curtis that no human limbs were broken, and that no one was even wet to the skin j nay, Bessie had even the tact to spare Mrs. Curtis the romantic colouring that delighted herself. Grace had followed Eachel to assist at the operation, and was equally delighted with its neatness and tenderness, as well as equally convinced of the necessity of asking the performer first to wash his hands and then to eat his breakfast, both wliich kind proposals he ac- cepted with diffident gratitude, first casting a glance around 214 THE CLEVER WOMAN OF THE FAMILY. the apartment, which, though he said nothing, conveyed that he was profoundly struck with the tokens of occupation that it contained. The breakfast was, in the first place, a very hungry one ; indeed, Bessie had been too ravenous to wait till the surgery was over, and was already arrived at her second egg when the others appeared, and the story had again to he told to the mother, and her warm thanks given. Mrs. Curtis did not like strangers when they were only names, but let her be brought in contact, and her good nature made her friendly at once, above all in her own house. The stranger was so grave and quiet too, not at all presuming, and making light of his services, but only afraid he had been trespassing on the Homestead grounds. These incursions of the season visitors were so great a grievance at the Homestead that !Mrs. Curtis highly approved his forbearance, whilst she was pleased with his tribute to her scenery, which he evidently admired with an artistic eye. Love of sketching had brought him to Avonmouth ; and before he took leave, Mrs. Curtis had accorded him that permission to draw in her little penin- sula for which many a young lady below "was sighing and murmuring. He thanked her with a melancholy look, con- fessing that in his circumstances his pencil was his toy and his solace. " Once again, that landscape painter ! " exclaimed Bessie, with uplifted hands, as soon as both he and jSIrs. Curtis were out of earshot, "an adventure at last." "JSTot at all," said Eachel, gravely; "there was neither alarm nor danger." " Precisely ; the romance minus the disagreeables. Only the sea monster wanting. Young Alcides, and rock — you stood there for sacrifice, I was the weeping Dardanian dames." woman's mission discovered. 215 Even Grace could not help laughing at the mischief of the one, and the earnest seriousness of the other. " 'Now, Bessie, I entreat that you vnll not make a ridicu- lous story of a most simple affair," implored Eachel. "I promise not to make one, but don't blame me if it makes itself." " It cannot, imless some of us tell the story." " What, do you expect the young Alcides to hold his tongue 1 That is more than can be hoped of mortal land- scape painter." "I wish you would not call him so. I am sure he is a clergyman." "Landscape painter, I would lay you anything you please." "iJ^ay," said Grace, "according to you, that is just what he ought not to be." "I do not understand what diverts you so much," said Eachel, growing lofty in her displeasure. " What matters it what the man may be ?" " That is exactly what we want to see," returned Bessie. Poor Eachel, a grave and earnest person like her, had little chance with one so full of playful ^Yit and fun as Bessie Keith, to whom her very dignity and susceptibility of annoy- ance made her the better game. To have involved the grave Eachel in such a parody of an adventure was perfectly irresistible to her, and to expect absolute indifference to it would, as Grace felt, have been requiring mere stupidity. Indeed, there was forbearance in not pushing Eachel further at the moment ; but proceeding to tell the tale at Myrtle- wood, whither Grace accompanied Bessie, as a guard against possible madcap versions capable of misconstruction. " Yes," said Eachel to herself, " I see now what Captain 216 THE CLEVER WOMAN OF THE FAMILY. Keith regrets. His sister, vdiloi all her fine powers and' abilities, has had her tone lowered to the hateful conventional style of "wit that would put one to the blush for the smallest mishap. I hope he will not come over till it is forgotten, for the very sight of his disapproval would incite her further. I am glad the Colonel is not here. Here, of course, he is, in my imagination. Why should I be referring everything to him ; I, who used to be so independent ? Suppose this nonsense gave him umbrage 1 Let it. I might then have light throAvn on his feelings and my own. At any rate, I will not be conscious. If this stranger be really worth notice, as I think he is, I wiU trample on her ridicule, and show how little I esteem it." THE NEW SPORT. 217 CHAPTEE IX. THE NEW SPORT. '' * Sire,' I replied, 'joys prove cloudlets. Men are the merest Ixions.' Here tlie King whistled alond, ' Let's, Heighho, go look at our lions ! ' Such are the sorrowful chances If you talk fine to King Francis."— R. Browning. The day after Eadiel's adventure with. Don a card came into the drawing-room, and therewith, a message that the gentle- man had availed himseK of Mrs. Curtis's kind permission and was sketching the Spinster's IS'eedles, two sharp points of red rock that stood out in the sea at the end of the peninsula, and were specially appropriated by Eachel and Grace. The card was written, not engraved, the name " Ed. E. H. C. L. Mauleverer ; " and a discussion ensued whether the first letters stood for Eichard or for Eeverend, and if he could be unconscionable enough to have five initials. The sisters had some business to transact at Yillars's, the Avon- mouth deposit of literature and stationery, which was in the hands of a somewhat aspiring genius, who edited the weekly paper, and respected Miss Eachel Curtis in proportion to the number of periodicals she took in, and the abstruseness of the publications she inquired after. The paper in its Satur- day's dampness lay fresh on the counter, and glancing at the 218 THE CLEVER WOMAN OF THE FAMILY. new arrivals, Grace had the desired opportunity of pointing to Mr. Mauleverer's name, and asking when he had come. About a week since, said the obliging Mr. Yillars, he appeared to be a gentleman of highly literary'- and artistic tastes, a philanthropist ; indeed, Mr. A^illars understood him to be a clerical gentlemen who had opinions — " Oh, Eachel, I am very sorry," said Grace. "Sorry, what for?" "Why, you and mamma seemed quite inclined to lil^e him." " Well, and what have we heard ? " " ]^ot much that is rational, certainly," said Grace, smiling • " but we know what was meant." " Granting that we do, w^hat is proved against him ? Xo, I will not say proved, but alleged. He is one of the many who have thought for themselves upon the perplexing pro- blems of faith and practice, and has been sincere, uncom- promising, self-sacrificing, in avowing that his mind is still in that state of solution in which all earnest and original minds must be ere the cr^^stallizing process sets in. Observe, Grace, I am not saying for an instant that he is in the right. All I do say is, that when depth of thought and candour have brought misfortune upon a man, it is ungenerous, there- fore, to treat him as if he had the leprosy." " Indeed, Eachel, I think you have made more out of his opinions than I did." " 1 was only arguing on your construction of his opinions." " Take care — ! " For they were at tliis moment reacliing a gate of Myrtlewood, and the sound of hoofs came close behind them. They were those of the very handsome chest- nut, ridden by Alexander Keith, who jumped off his horse THE NEW SPORT. 219 witli more alacrity than usual as they were openmg tlie gate for him, and holding out his hand, eagerly said — " Then I conclude there is nothing the matter? " " :N"othing at all," said Grace. " AVliat did you hear ? " " Only a little drowning, and a compound fracture or two," said he, relapsing into his languid ease as he gave his bridle to a OToom, and walked with them towards the house. " There, how very annoying ! " exclaimed Eachel, " though, of course, the smallest adventure does travel." " I may venture to hope that neither are you drowned, nor my sister's leg broken, nor a celebrated professor and essayist ' in a high fever wi' pulling any of you out of the sea.' " "There, Grace," exclaimed Eachel; "I told you he was something distinguished." " My dear Eachel, if his celebrity be in proportion to the rest of the story." " Then there really was a rescue ! " exclaimed Captain Keith, now with much more genuine anxiety; and Eachel recollecting her desire that the right version should have the precedence, quickly answered, "There was no danger, only Don slipped down into that curved cove where we walked one day with the boys. I went down after him, but he had broken his leg. I could not get up with him in my arms, and Bessie called some one to help me." " And why could not Bessie help you herseK? " " Oh ! strangers can never climb on our slippery rocks as we can." " Moreover, it would have spoilt the predicament," muttered the brother to himself; then turning round wdth a smile, " And is the child behaving herself 1 " 220 THE CLEVER WOMAN OF THE FAMILY. " Grace and Rachel answered in a eager duet how she was charming every one, so helpful, so kind, so everything." "Ah !" he said with real satisfaction, apparent in the eyes that were so pleasant when open ^vide enough to be visible ; *' I knew she always did better when I was not there." They were by this time entering the hall, which, in the confident fashion of the sea-side, stood open ; and at the moment Fanny came tripping downstairs with her dress looj)ed up, and a shady hat on her head, looking fearfully girlish, thought her cousins, though her attire was still rigidly black. " Oh, I am so glad to see you ; Don is so much better, Rachel, and Conrade wants to thank you. He went up yesterday, and was so sorry you were out. Might it not have been dreadful, Alick ? I have been so wanting to teU you how very delightful that dear sister of yours is. All the boys are distracted about her. Come out please. She has been teaching the boys such a delightfid game ; so much nicer than cricket, for I can play ^^ith them." Alick and Rachel could not but exchange a glance, and at the same moment, emerging through the screen of shrubs on the lawn, Bessie Keith, Conrade, Francis, and Leoline, were seen each with a mallet in hand and a gay ball in readiness to be impelled tlirough the hoops that beset the lawn. " And you really are learning croquet ! " exclaimed inno- cent Grace ; "well, it makes a beautiful ground." " Croquet ! " exclaimed poor Lady Temple, with startled eyes ; " you don't really mean that it is croquet ! Bessie, Bessie ! " " Ah ! I didn't mean you to have come so soon," said the much amused Bessie, as she gave her hand in cpreetinsr. "I THE NEW SPORT. 221 meant tlie prejudice to be first conquered. See, dear Lady Temple, I'm not asliamed ; this whitey brown moustache is going to kiss me nevertheless and notwithstanding." And so it certainly did, and smiled into the bargain, while the boys came clamouring up, and after thanks for Don's preservation, began loudly to beg mamma would come, they could not make up their sides without her ; but mamma was distressed and unhappy. " 'Not now, my dears — I must — I must. Indeed I did not know." "Now, Alick, I trust to your generosity," said Bessie, finding that they must be pacified. " Coming, Con — Come, Grace, come and convince Lady Temple that the pastime is not too wicked for you." " Indeed, Alick," Lady Temple was saying. " I am very sorry, I won't allow it one moment if you think it is objectionable." " But I don't," said Alick, smiling. " Far from it. It is a capital game for you and your boys." "I thought — I thought you disapproved and could not bear it," said Lady Temple, wondering and wistful. " Can't bear is not disapprove. Indeed," seeing that gentle earnest alone could console her, "there is no harm in the game itself. It is a whoUy personal distaste, arising from my having been bored with it when I was ill and out of spirits." " But is not there something about it in ' Punch ? '" she stilL asked, so anxiously, that it was impossible not to smile ; but there was not a particle of that subdued mockery that was often so perplexing in him, as he replied, " Certainly there is about its abuse as an engine for flirtation, which, to teU you the truth, was what sickened me with the sight at 222 THE CLEVER WOMAN OF THE FAMILY. Littleworthy ; but that is not the line Con and Francie will take just yet. AVhy, my uncle is specially addicted to listening to croquet, and knows by the step and sound how each player is getting on, till he is quite an oracle in dis- puted hits." " So Bessie told me," said Fanny, stiU feeling that she had been taken in and the brother unkindly used ; " but I can't think how she could, when you don't like it." "Nobody is bound to respect foolish prejudices," said xUick, still quite in earnest. " It would have been very absurd not to introduce it." "Come, Alick," said Bessie, advancing, "have you ab- solved her, and may we begin 1 TTould it not be a generous act of amnesty if aU the present company united in a match?" " Too many," said Alick ; " odd numbers. I shall go down and call on Miss Williams. May I come back, Lady Temple, and have a holiday from the mess 1 " " I shall be very glad ; only I am 'afraid there is no dinner." " So much the better. Only let me see you begin, or I shall never dare to express an opinion for the future." " Mamma, do pray, pray begin ; the afternoon is wasting like nothing ! " cried Conrade of the much-tried patience. "And Aunt Kachel," he added, in his magnanimity, "you shall be my partner, and I'll teach you." " Thank you, Conrade, but I can't ; I promised to be at home at four," said Rachel, who had all this time been Avatching with curious interest wliich influence would prevail — whether Alick woidd play for Fanny's sake, or Fanny abstain for AHck's sake. She was best satisfied as it was, but THE NEW SPORT. 223 she liad still to jDarry Bessie Keith's persuasive determina- tion. Whj would she go home 1 it certainly was to inspect the- sketches of the landscape-painter. " You heard, Alick, of the interesting individual who acted the part of Eachel's preserver," she added. The very force of Eachel's resolution not to be put out of countenance served to cover her with the most uncomfortable blushes, all the more at the thought of her own unlucky exclamation. " I came here," said Alick, coolly, " to assist in recovering the beloved remains from a watery grave ;" and then, as Bessie insisted on hearing the Avoncester version, he gave it ; while Grace added the intelligence that the hero was a clergyman, sinking the opinions, as too vague to be mentioned, even had not the company been too flighty for a subject she thought serious and painful. " And he is at this moment sketching the Spinster's ^N'eedles ! " said Bessie. "Well, I am consoled. With all your resolve to flatten dowa an adventure, fate is too strong for you. Something will come of it. Is not the very resolve that it shall not be an adventure a token ? " " If any one should wish to forget it, it is you, I think, Bessie," said Alick. "Your admirable sagacity seems to have been at fault. I thought you prided yourself on your climbing." " Up a slippery perpendicular " " I know the place," he gravely answered. ^' Well," exclaimed Bessie, recovering herself, " I am not a mermaid nor even a dear gazelle, and, in my humble opinion, there was far more grace in preventing heroism from being ' unwept, unnoticed, and unsung,' than in perilling my own neck, craning down and strangling the miserable beast, by 224 THE CLEVER WOMAN OF THE FAMILY. pulling him up by the scrough of his neck ! What an intro- duction would have been lost ! " " If you are going to play, Bessie," said her brother, " it ^ would be kind to take pity upon those boys." " One achievement is mine," she said, dancing away back- wards, her bright eyes beaming with saucy merriment, "the great Alexander has bidden me to croquet." " I am afraid," said her brother, turning to Eachel as she departed, " that it was all her fault. Pray be patient with her, she has had many disadvantages." His incomprehensible irony had so often perplexed Eachel, that she did not know whether his serious apologetic tone were making game of her annoyance, and she answered not very graciously, " Oh, never mind, it did not signif)^" And at the same time came another urgent entreaty from the boys that the two " aunts " woidd join the game, Conrade evidently considering that partnership with him would seal the for- giveness Aunt Eachel had won by the rescue of Don. Grace readily yielded, but Eachel pleaded her engagement ; and when the incorrigible Bessie declared that they perfectly understood that nothing could compete with the sketch of the Spinster's Needles, she answered, " I promised to wiite a letter for my mother on business before jiost time. The Burnaby bargain," she explained, to add fiu'ther conviction. " A business-like transaction indeed ! " exclaimed Bessie, much diverted with the name. " Only a bit of land in trust for apprenticing poor chil- dren," said Eachel. " It was left by a Curtis many genera- tions ago, in trust to the rector of the parish and the lord of the manor ; and poor Mr. Linton is so entirely effete, that it is virtually in our hands. It is one of the vexations of m}- THE NEW SPORT. 225 life that more good cannot "be done witli it, for tlie fees are too small for superior tradespeople, and we can only bind tliem to tlie misery of lacemaking. The system belongs to a worn-out state of things." The word system in Eachel's month was quite sufficient to send Bessie to her croquet, and the poor boys were at length rewarded for their nnusual patience. Their mother had been enduring almost as much as they did in her dislike to see them tantalized, and she now threw herself into the game with a relish that proved that as yet, at least, Conrade's approbation was more to her than Captain Keith's. It was very pretty to see her so pleased wdth her instructions, so eager about her own game, and yet so delighted with every hit of her boys ; while Bessie was an admirable general, plajdng everybody's game as well as her owti, and with such life and spirit, such readiness and good nature, that a far duller sport would have been delicious under her manage- ment. *' Poor Alick," said she, meeting him w^hen he again strolled into the garden, while the bo3'"s were collecting the mallets and balls ; "he did think he had one lawn in the w^orld undefiled by those horrible hoops ! " then as she met his smile of amusement and pardon ; " but it was so exactly what they wanted here. . It is so good for Lady Temple and her boys to have something they can do together." The pleased affectionate smile was gone. " I object to nothing but its being for her good," he said gravely. " But now, does not it make her very happy, and suit her excellently ? " "May be so, but that is not the reason you introduced it." VOL. I. Q 226 THE CLEVER WOMAN OF THE FAMILY. " You haTe a shocking habit of driving one tip into comer.-, Alick ; but it shall be purely, purely for my own selfish de- light," and she clasped her hands in so droll an affectation of remorse, that the muscles round his eyes quivered with diver- sion, though the hair on his lip veiled what the comers of his mouth were about ; " if only," she proceeded, " you won't let it banish you. You must come over to take care of this wicked little sister, or who knows what may be the consequences." " I kept away partly because I was busy, and partly be- cause I believe you are such a little ape as always to behave worse when you have the semblance of a keeper;" he said, with his arm fondly on her shoulder as they walked. "And in the mean time fell out the adventure of the dis- tinguished essayist." " I am afraid," he retiu-ned, " that was a gratuitous piece of mischief, particularly annoying to so serious and thought- ful a person as Miss Eachel Curtis." " Jealousy ?" exclaimed Bessie in an ecstatic tone. " Youj see what you lost by not trusting me, to behave myself under the provocation of your presence." "What ! the pleasure of boxing your ears for a coward !" " Of seizing the happy opening ! I am very much afraid for you now, Alick," she proceeded with mock gravity. " 'What hope can a poor Captain of Highlanders, even if ha does happen to be a wounded hero or two, have against a distinguished essayist and landscape painter, if it were a common case indeed; but where Wisdom herself is con- cerned " "Military frivolity cannot hope," retiu-ned Alick, with a shake of his head, and a calm matter-of-fact acquiescent tone. THE NEW SPORT. 227. "Ah, poor Alick," pursued his sister, "yon always were a discreet youth ; but to be connected -with such a union of learning, social science, and homoeopathy, soared beyond my utmost ambition. I suppose the wedding tour — supposing the happy event to take place — will be through a series of model schools and hospitals, ending in Hanw^eU." " jSTo," said Alick, equally coolly, " to the Dutch reforma- tory, and the Swiss cretin asylum." She was exceedingly tickled at his readiness, and proceeded in a pretended sentimental tone, " I am glad you have revealed the secrets of your breast. I saw there was a ]3owerful at- traction and that you were no longer your own, but my views were humbler. I thought the profound respect with which you breathed the name of Avonmouth, was due to the revival of the old predilection for our sweet little " " Hush, Bessie," said her brother, roused for the first time into sternness, " this is more than nonsense. One word more of this, and you will cut me off from my greatest rest and pleasure." " From the lawn where croquet waits his aj^probation." was on Bessie's tongue, but she did not say it. There were- moments when she stood in fear of her brother. He paused, and as if perceiving that his vehemence was in itself sus- picious, added, " Eemember, I never met her from seven years old till after her marriage. She has been the kindest- of friends in right of our fathers' old friendship. You know; how her mother nursed me, and the sister she was to me. And Bessie, if your selfishness — I wish I could call it- thoughtlessness — involves her innocent simplicity in any- scrape, derogatory to what is becoming her situation, I shall Q 2 228 THE CLEVER WOMAN OF THE FAMILY. find it very hard to forgive you, and harder still to forgive myself for letting you come here." Eessie pouted for a moment, but her sweetness and good humour were never aAvay. "There, you have given your wicked little sister a screed," she said, looking insinuatingly u}^ at him. "Just as if I did not think her a darling, and would not for the world do anything to spoil her. Have not I been leading the most exemplary life, talking systems and visiting cottages w4th Eachel and playing with the boys, and singing with the clergyman ; and here am I pounced on, as if I were come to be the serpent in this anti-croquet para- dise." " Only a warning, Bessie." "You'll be better now you have had it out. I've seen you suppressing it all this time,, for fear of frightening me away." Every one knows how the afternoon croquet match on the Myrtlewood Lawn became an institution, though with some variation in the observers thereof, owmg to the exigencies of calls, rides, and Ermine Williams's drive, which Lady Temple took care should happen at least twice a week. The most constant votaries of the mallet and hoop were, of course, the two elder boys, the next pair being distant worshippers only now and then admitted by special favour ; but the ardour of their mother even exceeded that of Bessie Keith, and it was always a disappointment to her if she were prevented from playing. Grace and Alison Williams frequently took their share with enjoyment, though not with the same devotion ; and visitors, civil and military, also often did their part, but the most fervent of all these was Mr. Touchett. Ever since that call of his, w^hen, after long impatience of his shy jerks THE NEW SPORT, 229 of conversation and incapacity of taking leave, Miss Keitli had exclaimed, " Did you ever play at croquet? do come, and we will teach you," he had been its most assiduous student. The first instructions led to an appointment for more, one contest to another, and the curate was becoming almost as regular a croquet player as Conrade himself, not conversing much but sure to be in his place ; and showing a dexterity and precision that always made Lady Temple pleased to have him on her side, and exclaim with delight at his hits as a public benefit to the cause, or thank him with real gratitude when he croqued her or one of her sons out of a difficulty. Indeed that little lawn at Myrtlewood was a battle-field, of which Alison used to carry her sister amusing and charac- teristic sketches. The two leading players were Miss Keith and Mr. Touchett, who alone had any idea of tactics ; but what she did by intuition, sleight of hand or experience, he effected by calculation and generalship, and even when Con- rade claimed the command of his own side, the suggestions of the curate really guided the party. Conrade was a sort of Murat on the croquet field, bold, dashing, often making wonderful hits, but uncertain, and only gradually learning to act in combination. Alison was a sure-handed, skilful hitter, but did not aspire to leadersliip. IManima tried to do what- ever her boys commanded, and often did it by a sort of dainty dexterity, when her exultation was a very pretty sight ; nor was Grace's lady-like skill contemptible, but having Francis as an ally was like giving a castle ; and he was always placed on the other side from Conrade, as it was quite certain that he would do the very reverse of whatever his brother advised. Xow and then invitations were given for Eose Williams to join the game, but her aunts never accepted them. Ermine 230 THE CLEVRR WOMxlX OF THE FAMILY. I had long ago made up her mind against intimacies between her niece and any pupils of Alison's, sure that though starts of pleasure might result, they would be at the cost of ruffling, and, perhaps, perturbing the child's even stream of hap- piness — even girl-friendships might have been of doubt- ful effect where circumstances were so unequal ; but Lady Temple's household of boys appeared to Ermine by no means a desirable sphere for her child to be either teased or courted in. Yioletta, Colinette, and Augustus were safer comrades, and Eose continued to find them sufficient, varied with the rare delight of now and then sharing her aunt's drive, and Ijrightened by many a kind message in Colonel Keith's letters to her aunt, nay, occasionally a small letter to herself, or an enclosure of some pretty photograph for her much-loved scrap book, or some article for Colinette's use, sometimes even a new book ! She was never forgotten in his letters, and Ermine smiled her strange pensive smile of amusement at his wooing of the unconscious Eose. THE PHILANTHROPIST. *251 CHAPTEE X. THE PHILANTHROPIST. "Scorn not the smallness of daily endeavour, Let tlie great meaning enoble it ever, Droop not o'er efforts expended in vain. Work, as believing, that labour is gain. " Queen Isabel,