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 University of Illinois Urbana-Champaign 
 
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 Chronicles of Carlingford 
 
 MISS MARJORIBANKS 
 
 By 
 MRS OLIPHANT 
 
 With an Introduction by 
 Q. D. LEAVIS 
 
 
 The Zodiac Press 
 
 LONDON
 
 ruDiisnca oy 
 
 Chatto & Windus Ltd 
 
 42 William IV Street 
 
 London W.C.2 
 
 Clarke, Irwin & Co. Ltd 
 Toronto 
 
 SBN 701 1 1503 3 
 
 C0PYRi8;-;T [v^vrERIAL 
 
 Hot To Be Fu-lnor :V^ f^^'oduced 
 
 Wivhout P:;:^T^^:..:;bn Cf Tho 
 
 Introduction © Q. D. Leavis 1969 
 
 Printed in Great Britain by 
 
 Northumberland Press Limited 
 
 Gateshead
 
 Contents 
 
 Chapter I 
 Chapter II 
 Chapter III 
 Chapter IV 
 Chapter V 
 Chapter VI 
 Chapter VII 
 Chapter VIII 
 Chapter IX 
 Chapter X 
 Chapter XI 
 Chapter XII 
 Chapter XIII 
 Chapter XIV 
 Chapter XV 
 Chapter XVI 
 Chapter XVII 
 Chapter XVIII 
 Chapter XIX 
 Chapter XX 
 Chapter XXI 
 Chapter XXII 
 Chapter XXIII 
 Chapter XXIV 
 Chapter XXV 
 Chapter XXVI 
 Chapter XXVII 
 
 25 
 34 
 41 
 45 
 55 
 63 
 72 
 80 
 90 
 98 
 no 
 118 
 125 
 
 133 
 
 141 
 
 149 
 167 
 
 188 
 
 199 
 204 
 213 
 229 
 240 
 248 
 258
 
 321 
 
 333 
 
 vi CONTENTS 
 
 Chapter XXVIII ^^^ 
 
 Chapter XXIX 279 
 
 Chapter XXX ^3^ 
 
 Chapter XXXI 296 
 
 Chapter XXXII ^o^ 
 
 Chapter XXXIII 
 Chapter XXXIV 
 Chapter XXXV 
 
 Chapter XXXVI ^^g 
 
 Chapter XXXVII ^^j 
 
 Chapter XXXVIII ^^2 
 
 Chapter XXXIX 363 
 
 Chapter XL -^- 
 
 Chapter XLI -,3- 
 
 Chapter XLII 
 
 Chapter XLIII 
 
 Chapter XLIV 
 
 Chapter XLV 
 
 Chapter XLVI 
 
 Chapter XLVII 
 
 Chapter XLVIII 
 
 Chapter XLIX 
 
 Chapter L 
 
 Chapter LI ^8j 
 
 Chapter the last m\a 
 
 394 
 402 
 409 
 420 
 430 
 
 439 
 449 
 471 
 471
 
 INTRODUCTION 
 
 I THINK most of US have felt at some time that there must have been 
 somebody who bridged the gap between Jane Austen and George 
 £liQi; — the aspect of course of George EHot that had grown out of 
 Jane Austen — and not been satisfied by such inward reminders as 
 that Trollope in the Barchester series has frequently the air of being 
 a Victorianised, minor Jane Austen, or that most of Coningsby 
 would surely have delighted Jane Austen, or that in Little Dorrit 
 Dickens presents a serious comedy of manners in the scenes between 
 the Meagleses and Mrs Gowan that is decidedly in the Austen tradi- 
 tion. By way of the novel here reprinted, Miss Marjoribankj [pro- 
 nounced "Marchbanks"] which first appeared in Blackwood's 
 Magazine in 1865-6, I suggest it and its author, Mrs Oliphant, for 
 that missing link. Her Lucilla has long seemed to me a triumphant 
 intermediary between their Emma and Dorothea, and, incidentally, 
 more entertaining, more impressive and more likable than either. 
 
 That this novel is, in its consistent ironic comedy, probably unique 
 in Mrs Oliphant's oeuvre (I do not claim to have read the lot, nor 
 does anyone else I imagine) does not mean that she hasn't a con- 
 tinuous "Miss Marjoribanks" vein running through most of her 
 work, a vein which constantly surfaces and which the connoisseur 
 will soon learn to recognise and look out for; in her short stories it 
 is more frequently dominant. Tough-mindedness did not disappear 
 for the rest of the century with Jane Austen and Coningsby. The 
 ironic eye that Jane Austen turned on Georgian middle-class country 
 life extends its gaze in Coningsby to areas she would have had no 
 knowledge of, but she would, we can feel sure, have appreciated 
 Rigby and Lord Monmouth, Lord Eskdale and the ladies of that 
 world, and the manner of their presentation; whereas her apprecia- 
 tion of Middle-march would, one suspects, have been limited by lack 
 of sympathy with the idealisation and apotheosis of Mrs Casaubon. 
 Miss MarjoribanJ^s however is something that Jane Austen might 
 almost have created and written herself (though it would have been 
 in fewer words) if she had not died prematurely, for it brings to
 
 Regency period : the technique and style as well as T^e language 
 our novel is essentially witty from start to finish. The opening 
 as anti-sentimental as the author of Northanger Abbey could hi 
 desired, though of course not directed at her targets but at Victor] 
 conventional sentiment — e.g. in the course of the novel Rose Ls 
 says of her sister : "But I am sorry to say she has not a strong sense 
 duty" and " 'I have always been brought up to believe that duty v 
 happiness,' said Miss Marjoribanks with some severity" — autho* 
 jokes inconceivable in Middlemarch. Lucilla is a Victorian a 
 heroine, large, strong, unsentimental, insubordinate to men :. 
 with a hearty appetite. 
 
 Who else in 1865 could habitually write thus? — 
 
 "Lucilla had a great deal too much sense to upbraid anyone w 
 ingratitude, or even to make any claim upon that slippery qualit 
 
 " *He will never learn that he is old', she said in Lucilla's e 
 and thus the t\vo old people kept watch upon each other, a 
 noted, with a curious mixture of vexation and sympathy, e; 
 other's declining strength." 
 
 ". . . nor had she the ordinary amount of indifference to ot 
 people, or confidence in herself, which stands in the place of si 
 control with many people." 
 
 ". . . hurriedly clasping together a pair of helpless hands a: 
 they could find a little strength in union." 
 
 *' 'We must leave that to Providence,* said Miss Marjoriban 
 with a sense of paying a compliment to Providence in entrust: 
 it with such a responsibility." 
 
 *'. . . as Mrs Chiley. justly remarked, Mrs Woodburn wa 
 woman who would take off the Archbishop of Canterbury or 
 Virgin Mary if she had the opportunity. . . ." 
 
 "The Archdeacon was one of those men who are very strc 
 for the masculine side of Christianity; and when he was with 
 ladies, he had a sense that he ought to be paid attention to, inst( 
 of taking that trouble in his own person. Miss Marjoribanks v 
 not a woman to be blind to the advantages of this situation, 1
 
 MISS MAEJORIBANKS. 3 
 
 her journey to a great many virtuous resolutions ; for, 
 in such a case as hers, it was evidently the duty of an 
 only child to devote herself to her father's comfort, and 
 become the sunshine of his life, as so many young 
 persons of her age have been known to become in lit- 
 erature. Miss Marjoribanks had a lively mind, and 
 Avas capable of grasping all the circumstances of the 
 situation at a glance. Thus, between the outbreaks of 
 her tears for her mother, it became apparent to her 
 that she must sacrifice her own feelings, and make a 
 cheerful home for papa, and that a great many changes 
 would be necessary in the household — changes which 
 went so far as even to extend to the furniture. Miss 
 Marjoribanks sketched to herself, as she lay back in 
 the corner of the railway carriage, with her veil down, 
 how she would wind herself up to the duty of presid- 
 ing at her papa's dinner-parties, and charming every- 
 body by her good-humour, and brightness, and devotion 
 to his comfort ; and how, when it was all over, she 
 would withdraw and cry her eyes out in her own room, 
 and be found in the morning languid and worn-out, 
 but always heroical, ready to go down-stairs and assist 
 at dear papa's breakfast, and keep up her smiles for 
 him till he had gone out to his patients. Altogether 
 the picture was a very pretty one ; and, considering 
 that a great many young ladies in deep mourning put 
 force upon their feelings in novels, and maintain a
 
 4 CHRONICLES OF CARLINGFOED : 
 
 smile for the benefit of the unobservant male creatures 
 of whom they have the charge, the idea was not at all 
 extravagant, considering that Miss Marjoribanks was 
 but fifteen. She was not, however, exactly the kind of 
 fio'ure for this mise en scene. When her schoolfellows 
 talked of her to their friends — for Lucilla was already 
 an important personage at Mount Pleasant — the most 
 common description they gave of her was, that she 
 was " a large girl ; " and there was great truth in the 
 adjective. She was not to be described as a tall girl — 
 which conveys an altogether different idea — but she 
 was large in all particulars, full and well-developed, 
 with somewhat large features, not at all pretty as yet, 
 though it was known in Mount Pleasant that some- 
 bo*dy had said that such a face might ripen into 
 beauty, and become "grandiose," for anything any- 
 body could tell. Miss Marjoribanks was not vain ; 
 but the word had taken possession of her imagination, 
 as was natural, and solaced her much when she made 
 the painful discovery that her gloves were half a 
 number larger, and her shoes a hairbreadth broader, 
 than those of any of her companions ; but the hands 
 and the feet were both perfectly well shaped ; and 
 being at the same time well clothed and plump, were 
 much more presentable and pleasant to look upon 
 than the lean rudimentary school -girl hands with 
 which they were surrounded. To add to these excel-
 
 I^IISS MAEJOEIBANKS. 5 
 
 lences, Lucilla had a mass of hair which, if it could 
 but have been cleared a little in its tint, would have 
 been golden, though at present it was nothing more 
 than tawny, and curly to exasperation. She wore it 
 in large thick curls, which did not, however, float or 
 wave, or do any of the graceful things which curls 
 ought to do ; for it had this aggravating quality, that 
 it would not grow long, but would grow ridiculously, 
 unmanageably thick, to the admiration of her com- 
 panions, but to her own despair, for there was no 
 knowing what to do with those short but ponderous 
 locks. These were the external characteristics of the 
 girl who was going home to be a comfort to her 
 
 widowed father, and meant to sacrifice herself to his 
 
 * 
 
 happiness. In the course of her rapid journey she 
 had already settled upon everything that had to be 
 done ; or rather, to speak more truly, had rehearsed 
 everything, according to the habit already acquired by 
 a quick mind, a good deal occupied with itself. First, 
 she meant to fall into her father's arms — forgetting, 
 with that singular facility for overlooking the peculi- 
 arities of others which belongs to such a character, 
 that Dr IMarjoribanks was very httle given to em- 
 bracing, and that a hasty kiss on her forehead was the 
 warmest caress he had ever given his daughter — and 
 then to rush up to the chamber of death and weep 
 over dear mamma. " And to think I was not there to
 
 6 CHRONICLES OF CARLINGFOED : 
 
 soothe her last moments ! " Lucilla said to herself, 
 with a sob, and with feelings sufficiently real in their 
 way. After this, the devoted daughter made up her 
 mind to come down-stairs again, pale as death, but 
 self-controlled, and devote herself to papa. Perhaps, 
 if great emotion should make him tearless, as such 
 cases had been known. Miss Marjoribanks would steal 
 into his arms unawares, and so surprise him into 
 weeping. All this went briskly through her mind, un- 
 deterred by the reflection that tears were as much out 
 of the Doctor's way as embraces; and in this mood 
 she sped swiftly along in the inspiration of her first 
 sorrow, as she imagined, but in reality to sufier her 
 first disappointment, which was of a less soothing 
 character than that mild and manageable grief. 
 
 When Miss Marjoribanks reached home her mother 
 had been dead for twenty-four hours ; and her father 
 was not at the door to receive her as she had expected, 
 but by the bedside of a patient in extremity, who 
 could not consent to go out of the world without the 
 Doctor. This was a sad reversal of her intentions, 
 but Lucilla was not the woman to be disconcerted. 
 She carried out the second part of her programme 
 without either interference or sympathy, except from 
 Mrs Marjoribanks's maid, who had some hopes from 
 the moment of her arrival. " I can't abear to think 
 as I'm to be parted from you all, miss," sobbed the
 
 MISS MAKJORIBANKS. 7 
 
 faithful attendant. " I've lost the best missus as ever 
 was, and I shouldn't mind going after her. When- 
 ever any one gets a good friend in this world, they're 
 the first to be took away," said the weeping hand- 
 maiden, who naturally saw her own loss in the most 
 vivid light. " Ah, Ellis," cried Miss Marjoribanks, re- 
 posing her sorrow in the arms of this anxious attendant, 
 " we must try to be a comfort to poor papa I " 
 
 With this end Lucilla made herself very trouble- 
 some to the sober-minded Doctor during those few 
 dim days before the faint and daily lessening shadow 
 of poor Mrs Marjoribanks was removed altogether 
 from the house. When that sad ceremony had taken 
 place, and the Doctor returned, serious enough, heaven 
 knows, to the great house, where the faded helpless 
 woman, who had notwithstanding been his love and 
 his bride in other days, lay no longer on the familiar 
 sofa, the crisis arrived which Miss Marjoribanks had 
 rehearsed so often, but after quite a different fashion. 
 The widower was tearless, indeed, but not from excess 
 of emotion. On the contrary, a painful heaviness 
 possessed him when he became aware how little real 
 sorrow was in his mind, and how small an actual 
 . loss was this loss of his wife, which bulked before the 
 world as an event of just as much magnitude as the 
 loss, for example, which poor Mr Lake, the drawing- 
 master, was at the same moment suffering. It was
 
 8 CHRONICLES OF CARLINGFORD : 
 
 even sad, in another point of view, to think of a 
 human creature passing out of the world, and leaving 
 so little trace that she had ever been there. As for 
 the pretty creature whom Dr Marjoribanks had mar- 
 ried, she had vanished into thin air years and years 
 ago. These thoughts were heavy enough — perhaps even 
 more overwhelming than that grief which develops 
 love to its highest point of intensity. But such were 
 not precisely the kind of reflections which could be 
 solaced by paternal attendrissement over a weeping 
 and devoted daughter. It was May, and the weather 
 was warm for the season ; but Lucilla had caused the 
 fire to be lighted in the large gloomy library where 
 Dr Marjoribanks always sat in the evenings, with the 
 idea that it would be " a comfort " to him ; and, for 
 the same reason, she had ordered tea to be served 
 there, instead of the dinner, for which her father, as 
 she imagined, could have little appetite. AVhen the 
 Doctor went in to his favourite seclusion, tired and 
 heated and sad — for even on the day of his wife's 
 funeral the favourite doctor of Carlingford had patients 
 to think of — the very heaviness of his thoughts gave 
 warmth to his indignation. He had longed for the 
 quiet and the coolness and the solitude of his library, 
 apart from everybody ; and when he found it radiant 
 with firelight, tea set on the table, and Lucilla crying 
 by the fire, in her new crape, the effect upon a temper
 
 MISS MARJOEIBANKS. 9 
 
 by no means perfect may be imagined. The unfor- 
 tunate man threw both the windows wide open and 
 rang the bell violently, and gave instant orders for the 
 removal of the unnecessary fire and the tea-service. 
 " Let me know when dinner is ready/' he said, in a 
 voice like thunder ; "and if Miss Marjoribanks wants 
 a fire, let it be lighted in. the drawing-room/' Lucilla 
 was so much taken by surprise by this sudden over- 
 throw of her programme, that she submitted, as a girl 
 of much less spirit might have done, and suffered 
 herself and her fire and her tea-things to be dismissed 
 up-stairs, where she wept still more at sight of dear 
 mamma's sofa, and where Ellis came to mingle her 
 tears with those of her young mistress, and to beg 
 dear Miss Lucilla, for the sake of her precious 'elth 
 and her dear papa, to be persuaded to take some 
 tea. On the whole, master stood lessened in the eyes 
 of all the household by his ability to eat his dinner, 
 and his resentment at having his habitudes disturbed. 
 " Them men would eat and drink if we was all in our 
 graves," said the indignant cook, who indeed had a 
 real grievance ; and the outraged sentiment of the 
 kitchen was avenged by a bad and hasty dinner, 
 which the Doctor, though generally " very particular,'" 
 swallowed without remark. About an hour afterwards 
 he went up-stairs to the drawing-room, where Miss 
 Marjoribanks was waiting for him, much less at ease
 
 10 CHRONICLES OF CARLINGFOED : 
 
 than she had expected to be. Though he gave a little 
 sigh at the sight of his wife's sofa, he did not hesi- 
 tate to sit down upon it, and even to draw it a little 
 out of its position, which, as Lucilla described after- 
 wards, was like a knife going into her heart. Though, 
 indeed, she had herself decided already, in the inter- 
 vals of her tears, that the drawing-room furniture had 
 got very faded and shabby, and that it would be very 
 expedient to have it renewed for the new reign of 
 youth and energy which was about to commence. As 
 for the Doctor, though Miss Marjoribanks thought 
 him insensible, his heart was heavy enough. His 
 wife had gone out of the world without leaving the 
 least mark of her existence, except in that large girl, 
 whose spirits and forces were unbounded, but whose 
 discretion at the present moment did not seem much 
 greater than her mother's. Instead of thinking of her 
 as a comfort, the Doctor felt himself called upon to 
 face a new and unexpected embarrassment. It would 
 have been a satisfaction to him just then to have been 
 left to himself, and permitted to work on quietly at 
 his profession, and to write his papers for the 'Lan- 
 cet,' and to see his friends now and then when he 
 chose ; for Dr Marjoribanks was not a man who had 
 any great need of sympathy by nature, or who was at 
 all addicted to demonstrations of feeling; consequently, 
 he drew his wife's sofa a little further from the fire,
 
 MISS MAKJORIBANKS. 11 
 
 and took his seat on it soberly, quite unaware that, by 
 so doing, he was putting a knife into his daughter's 
 heart. 
 
 " I hope you have had something to eat, Lucilla," 
 he said ; " don't get into that foolish habit of flying to 
 tea as a man flies to a dram. It's a more innocent 
 stimulant, but it's the same kind of intention. I am 
 not so mucli against a fire ; it has always a kind of 
 cheerful look." 
 
 " Oh, papa," cried his daughter, with a flood of in- 
 dignant tears, " you can't suppose I want anything to 
 look cheerful this dreadful day." 
 
 " I am far from blaming you, my dear," said the 
 Doctor ; " it is natural you should cry. I am sorry I 
 did not write for my sister to come, who would have 
 taken care of you ; but I dislike strangers in the house 
 at such a time. However, I hope, Lucilla, you will 
 soon feel yourself able to return to school ; occupation 
 is always the best remedy, and you wiU have your 
 friends and companions " 
 
 " Papa ! " cried Miss Marjoribanks ; and then she 
 summoned courage, and rushed up to him, and threw 
 herself and her clouds of crape on the carpet at his 
 side (and it may here be mentioned that Lucilla had 
 seized the opportunity to have her mourning made 
 long, which had been the desire of her heart, baffled 
 by mamma and governess for at least a year). "Papa !"
 
 12 CHRONICLES OF CAELINGFORD : 
 
 she exclaimed with fervour, raising to him her tear- 
 stained face, and clasping her fair plump hands, " oh, 
 don't send me away ! I was only a silly girl the other 
 day, but this has made me a woman. Though I can 
 never, never hope to take dear mamma's place, and be 
 — all — that she was to you, still I feel I can be a com- 
 fort to you if you will let me. You shall not see me 
 cry any more," cried Lucilla with energy, rubbing 
 away her tears. " I will never give way to my feelings. 
 I will ask for no companions — nor — nor anything. 
 As for pleasure, that is all over. Oh, papa, you shall 
 never see me regret anything, or wish for anything. I 
 will give up everything in the world to be a comfort 
 to you ! " 
 
 This address, which was utterly unexpected, drove 
 Dr Marjoribanks to despair. He said, " Get up, 
 Lucilla ; " but the devoted daughter knew better than 
 to get up. She hid her face in her hands, and rested 
 her hands upon her mother's sofa, where the Doctor 
 was sitting ; and the sobs of that emotion which she 
 meant to control henceforward, echoed through the 
 room. ''It is only for this once — I can — cannot help 
 it,'' she cried. When her father found that he could 
 neither soothe her, nor succeed in raising her, he got 
 up himself, which was the only thing left to him, and 
 began to walk about the room with hasty steps. Her 
 mother, too, had possessed this dangerous faculty of
 
 MISS MAEJOEIBANKS. 13 
 
 tears ; and it was not wonderful if the sober-minded 
 Doctor, roused for the first time to consider his little 
 girl as a creature possessed of individual character, 
 should recognise, with a thrill of dismay, the appear- 
 ance of the same qualities which had wearied his life 
 out, and brought his youthful affections to an -un- 
 timely end. Lucilla was, it is true, as different from 
 her mother as summer from winter; but Dr Marjori- 
 banks had no means of knowing that his daughter 
 was only doing her duty by him in his widowhood, 
 according to a programme of filial devotion resolved 
 upon, in accordance with the best models, some days 
 before. 
 
 Accordingly, when her sobs had ceased, her father 
 returned and raised her up not unkindly, and placed 
 her in her chair. In doing so, the Doctor put his 
 finger by instinct upon Lucilla's pulse, which was 
 sufficiently calm and well regulated to reassure the 
 most anxious parent. And then a furtive momentary 
 smile gleamed for a single instant round the corners 
 of his mouth. 
 
 " It is very good of you to propose sacrificing your- 
 self for me," he said ; " and if you would sacrifice your 
 excitement in the mean time, and listen to me quietly, 
 it would really be something — but you are only fifteen, 
 Lucilla, and I have no wish to take you from school 
 just now; wait till I have done. Your poor mother is
 
 14 CHEONICLES OF CARLINGFORD : 
 
 gone, and it is very natural you should cry ; but you 
 were a good child to her on the whole, which will be 
 a comfort to you. We did everything that could be 
 thought of to prolong her days, and, when that was 
 impossible, to lessen what she had to suffer; and we 
 have every reason to hope,'' said the Doctor, as indeed 
 he was accustomed to say in the exercise of his profes- 
 sion to mourning relatives, " that she's far better off 
 now than if she had been with us. When that is said, 
 I don't know that there is anything more to add. I 
 am not fond of sacrifices, either one way or another; 
 and I've a great objection to any one making a sacri- 
 fice for me " 
 
 ''But, oh papa, it would be no sacrifice," said 
 Lucilla, "if you would only let me be a comfort to 
 you ! " 
 
 " That is just where it is, my dear," said the steady 
 Doctor ; " I have been used to be left a great deal to 
 myself; and I am not prepared to say that the respon- 
 sibility of having you here without a mother to take 
 care of you, and all your lessons interrupted, would 
 not neutralise any comfort you might be. You see," 
 said Dr Marjoribanks, trying to soften matters a little, 
 "a man is what his habits make him; and I have 
 been used to be left a great deal to myself. It 
 answers in some cases, but I doubt if it would answer 
 with me."
 
 MISS MAKJORIBANKS. 15 
 
 And then there was a pause, in which Lucilla wept 
 and stifled her tears in her handkerchief, with a 
 warmer flood of vexation and disappointment than 
 even her natural grief had produced. "Of course, 
 
 papa, if I can't be any comfort 1 will — go back to 
 
 school," she sobbed, with a touch of sullenness which 
 did not escape the Doctor's ear. 
 
 " Yes, my dear, you will certainly go back to school," 
 said the peremptory father ; " I never had any doubt 
 on that subject. You can stay over Sunday and rest 
 yourself. Monday or Tuesday will be time enough to 
 go back to Mount Pleasant ; and now you had better 
 ring the bell, and get somebody to bring you something 
 — or I'll see to that when I go down-stairs. It's getting 
 late, and this has been a fatiguing day. I'll send you 
 up some negus, and I think you had better go to bed." 
 
 And with these commonplace words, Dr Marjori- 
 banks withdrew in calm possession of the field. As 
 for Lucilla, she obeyed him, and betook herself to her 
 own room, and swallowed her negus with a sense, not 
 only of defeat, but of disappointment and mortification 
 which was very unpleasant. To go back again and be 
 an ordinary school-girl, after the pomp of woe in 
 which she had come away, was naturally a painful 
 thought; she who had ordered her mourning to be 
 made long, and contemplated new furniture in the 
 drawing-room, and expected to be mistress of her
 
 16 CHRONICLES OF CARLINGFORD : 
 
 father's house, not to speak of the still dearer privilege 
 of being a comfort to him ; and now, after all, her 
 active mind was to be condemned over again to verbs 
 and chromatic scales, though she felt within herself 
 capacities so much more extended. Miss Marjoribanks 
 did not by any means learn by this defeat to take the 
 characters of the other 'personoe in her Httle drama 
 into consideration, when she rehearsed her pet scenes 
 hereafter — for that is a knowledge slowly acquired — 
 but she was wise enough to know when resistance was 
 futile ; and like most peojole of lively imagination, she 
 had a power of submitting to circumstances when it 
 became impossible to change them. Thus she con- 
 sented to postpone her reign, if not with a good grace, 
 yet still without foolish resistance, and retired with 
 the full honours of war. She had already re-arranged 
 all the details, and settled upon all the means possible 
 of preparing herself for what she called the charge of 
 the establishment when her final emancipation took 
 place, before she returned to school. " Papa thought 
 me too young," she said, when she reached Mount 
 Pleasant, " though it was dreadful to come away and 
 leave him alone with only the servants; but, dear Miss 
 Martha, you will let me learn all about political 
 economy and things, to help me manage everything ; 
 for now that dear mamma is gone, there is nobody but 
 me to be a comfort to papa."
 
 ]\IISS MAJIJORIBANKS. 17 
 
 And by this means Miss Marjoribanks managed to 
 influence the excellent woman who believed in ' Friends 
 in Council/ and to direct' the future tenor of her own 
 education ; while, at least, in that one moment of 
 opportunity, she had achieved long dresses, which was 
 a visible mark of womanhood, and a step which could 
 not be retraced. 
 
 VOL. I.
 
 CHAPTEE II. 
 
 De Maejoeibanks was so far from feeling the lack of 
 his daughter's powers of consolation, that he kept her 
 at Mount Pleasant for three years longer, during which 
 time it is to be supposed he managed to be comfortable 
 after a benighted fashion — good enough for a man of 
 fifty, who had come to an end of his illusions. To be 
 sure, there were in the world, and even in Carlingford, 
 kind women, who would not have objected to take 
 charge of the Doctor and his " establishment," and be 
 a comfort to him ; but, on the whole, it was undeniable 
 that he managed tolerably well in external matters, 
 and gave very good men's dinners, and kept everything 
 in perfect order, so far as it went. Naturally the 
 fairer part of existence was left out altogether in that 
 grim, though well-ordered, house ; but then he was 
 only a man and a doctor, and knew no better; and 
 while the feminine part of Grange Lane regarded him 
 with natural pity, not only for what he lacked, but for
 
 MISS MAEJORIBANKS. 19 
 
 a still more sad defect, his total want of perception on 
 the subject, their husbands and fathers rather liked to 
 dine with the Doctor, and brought home accounts of 
 sauces which were enough to drive any woman to 
 despair. Some of the ladies of Grange Lane — Mrs 
 Chiley, for example, who wa& fond of good living 
 herself, and liked, as she said, '' a little variety'' — laid 
 siege to the Doctor, and did their best to coax his 
 receipts out of him ; but Dr Marjoribauks knew better 
 than that. He gave all the credit to his cook, like a 
 man of sense ; and as that functionary was known in 
 Carlingford to be utterly regardless and unprincipled 
 in respect to gravy-beef, and the materials for " stock," 
 or " consomm^," as some people called it, society was 
 disinclined to exert its ordinary arts to seduce so great 
 an artiste from the kitchen of her indulgent master. 
 And then there were other ladies who took a different 
 tone. "Dr Marjoribanks, poor man, has nothing but 
 his table to take up his mind," said Mrs Centum, who 
 had six children ; " I never heard that the heart could 
 be nourished upon sauces, for my part ; and for a man 
 who has his children's future to think of, I must say I 
 am surprised at you, Mr Centum." As for young Mrs 
 Woodbum, her reply was still more decisive, though 
 milder in its tone. " Poor cook I I am so sorry for 
 her," said the gentle young matron. "You know you 
 always like something for breakfast, Charles ; and then
 
 20 CHRONICLES OF CARLINGFOED : 
 
 there is the cliilclren's dinner, and our lunch, and the 
 servants' dinner, so that tlie poor thing is worn out 
 before she comes to what you call the great event of the 
 day ; and you know how angry you were when I asked 
 for a kitchen-maid for her, poor soul." The conse- 
 quence of all this was, that Dr Marjoribanks remained 
 unrivalled in Grange Lane in this respect at least. 
 When rumours arose in Carlingford of a possible 
 second marriage for the Doctor — and such rumours 
 naturally arose three or four times in the course of the 
 three years — the men of Grange Lane said, " Heaven 
 forbid ! " '' No wife in the world could replace l^ancy," 
 said Colonel Chiley, after that fervent aspiration, " and 
 none could put up with her;" while, on the other side, 
 there were curious speculations afloat as to the effect 
 upon the house, and especially the table, of the daugh- 
 ter's return. When a young woman comes to be 
 eighteen it is difficult to keep her at school ; and 
 though the Doctor had staved off the danger for the 
 moment, by sending Lucilla off along with one of her 
 schoolfellows, whose family was going abroad, to make 
 orthodox acquaintance with all the Smss mountains, 
 and all the Italian capitals, still that was plainly an 
 expedient for the moment ; and a new mistress to the 
 house, which had got along so well without any mis- 
 tress, was inevitable. So that it cannot be denied Miss 
 Marjoribanks's advent was regarded in Carlingford
 
 MISS MARJORIBANKS. 21 
 
 with as mucli interest and curiosity as she could have 
 wished. For it was ah-eady known that the Doctor's 
 daughter was not a mild young lady, easy to be con- 
 trolled ; but, on the contrary, had all the energy and 
 determination to have her own way, which naturally 
 belonged to a girl who possessed a considerable chin, 
 and a mouth which could shut, and tightly curling 
 tawny tresses, which were still more determined than 
 she was to be arranged only according to their inclina- 
 tion. It was even vaguely reported that some pas- 
 sages-of-arms had occurred between Miss Marjoribanks 
 and the redoubtable E'ancy during the short and un- 
 certain opportunities which were afforded by holidays ; 
 and the community, accordingly, regarded as an affair of 
 almost municipal importance Lucilla's final return home. 
 As for the young lady herself, though she was at 
 school, she was conscious of having had a career not 
 without importance, even during these three years of 
 pupilage. Since the day when she began to read 
 political economy with Miss Martha Blount, who, 
 though the second sister, was the directing spirit of 
 the establishment, Lucilla had exercised a certain in- 
 fluence upon the school itself which was very satis- 
 factory. Perhaps her course might be a little deficient 
 in grace, but grace, after all, is but a secondary quality ; 
 and, at all events, Miss Marjoribanks went straight 
 forward, leaving an unquestionable wake behind her.
 
 22 CHKONICLES OF CARLINGFOED : 
 
 and running down with indifference the little skiffs in 
 her way. She was possessed by nature of that kind 
 of egotism, or rather egoism, which is predestined to 
 impress itself, by its perfect reality and good faith, 
 upon the surrounding world. There are people who 
 talk of themselves, and think of themselves, as it were, 
 under protest, and with dejDreciation, not actually able 
 to convince themselves that anybody cares ; but Lu- 
 cilla, for her part, had the calmest and most profound 
 conviction that, when she discussed her own doings 
 and plans and clevernesses, she was bringing forward 
 the subject most interesting to her audience as well as 
 to herself. Such a conviction is never without its 
 fruits. To be sure, there were always one or two in- 
 dependent spirits who revolted ; but for the crowd, it 
 soon became impressed with a profound belief in the 
 creed which Miss Marjoribanks supported so firmly. 
 This conviction of the importance and value of her 
 own proceedings made Lucilla, as she grew older, a 
 copious and amusing conversationalist — a rank which 
 few people who are indifferent to, or do not believe in, 
 themselves can attain to. One thing she had made up 
 her mind to as soon as she should return home, and 
 that was to revolutionise society in Carlingford. On 
 the whole, she was pleased with the success of the 
 Doctor's dinners, though a little piqued to think that 
 they owed nothing to herself ; but Lucilla, whose in-
 
 MISS MARJORIBANKS. 23 
 
 stinct of government was of the true despotic order, 
 and who had no objection to stoop, if by that means 
 she could conquer, had no such designs against Nancy 
 as were attributed to her by the expectant audience in 
 Carlingford. On the contrary, she was quite as much 
 disposed as her father was to take Nancy for prime- 
 minister ; for Miss Marjoribanks, though too much 
 occupied with herself to divine the characteristic points 
 of other people, had a sensible and thorough belief in 
 those superficial general truths which most minds 
 acquiesce in, without taking the trouble to believe. 
 She knew, for example, that there was a great differ- 
 ence between the brilliant society of London, or of 
 Paris, which appears in books, where women have 
 generally the best of it, and can rule in their own 
 right ; and even the very best society of a country 
 town, where husbands are very commonly unmanage- 
 able, and have a great deal more of their own way in 
 respect to the houses they will or will not go to, than 
 is good for that inferior branch of the human family. 
 Miss Marjoribanks had the good sense to see and ap- 
 preciate these details ; and she knew that a good dinner 
 was a great attraction to a man, and that, in Carling- 
 ford at least, when these refractory mortals were secured, 
 the wives and daughters would necessarily follow. 
 Besides, as is not uncommon with women who are 
 clever women, and aware of the fact, Miss Marjoribanks
 
 24 CHRONICLES OF CARLINGFOED : 
 
 preferred the society of men, and rather liked to say 
 so. With all these intentions in her mind, it may be 
 imagined that she received coolly enough the invita- 
 tion of her friend to join in the grand tour, and the 
 ready consent given by her father when he heard of it. 
 But even the grand tour was a tool which Lucilla saw 
 how to make use of. N"owadays, when people go 
 everywhere, an untravelled w^oman would find it so 
 much the harder to keep up the role of a leader of 
 society to which she had devoted herself ; and she felt 
 to the depth of her heart the endless advantage to her 
 future conversation of the experiences to be acquired 
 in Switzerland and Italy. But she rejected with scorn 
 the insinuation of other accidents that might occur on 
 the way. 
 
 " You will never come back again, Lucilla," said one 
 of her companions ; "you will marry some enchanting 
 Italian with a beautiful black beard, and a voice like 
 an angel ; and he'll sing serenades to you, and do all 
 sorts of things : oh, how I wish I was you ! " 
 
 "That may be," said Miss Marjoribanks, "but I 
 shall never marry an Italian, my dear. I don't think 
 I shall marry anybody for a long time. I w^ant to 
 amuse myself. I wonder, by the way, if it would im- 
 prove my voice to take lessons in Italy. Did I ever 
 tell you of the Italian nobleman that was so very at- 
 tentive to me that Christmas I spent at Sissy Vernon's ?
 
 MISS MARJORIBANKS. 25 
 
 He was very handsome. I suppose tliey really are all 
 very handsome — except, of course, the Italian masters ; 
 but I did not pay any attention to him. My object, 
 dear, and you know it, is to return home as well edu- 
 cated as possible, to be a comfort to dear papa." 
 
 '' Yes, dear Lucilla," said the sympathetic girl, " and 
 it is so good of you ; but do tell me about the Italian no- 
 bleman — what did he look like — and what did he say ?" 
 
 " Oh, as for what he said, that is quite a different 
 matter/' said Lucilla ; " but it is not what they say, 
 but the way they say it, that is the fun. I did not 
 give him the least encouragement. As for that, I 
 think, a girl can always stop a man when she does not 
 care for him. It depends on whether you intend him 
 to commit himself or not," Miss Marjoribanks con- 
 tinued, and fixed her eyes meditatively, but intently, 
 upon her friend's face. 
 
 " Whether I intend ? — oh goodness, Lucilla ! how 
 can you speak so ? as if I ever intended anything," 
 said her companion, confused, yet flattered, by the pos- 
 sibility; to which the elder sage answered calyily, with 
 all the composure in the world. 
 
 " Xo, I never supposed you did ; I was thinking of 
 myself," said LuciUa, as if, indeed, that was the only 
 reasonable subject of thought. "You know I have 
 seen a good deal of the world, one way and another, 
 with going to spend the holidays, and I could tell
 
 26 CHRONICLES OF CARLINGFORD : 
 
 you quantities of things. It is quite astonishing how 
 much experience one gets. When I was at Midhurst, 
 at Easter, there was my cousin Tom, who was quite 
 ridiculous ; T declare he nearly brought things to an 
 explanation, Fanny — which, of course, of all things in 
 the world I most wanted to avoid." 
 
 " Oh, but why, Lucilla ?" cried Fanny, full of delight 
 and wonder ; " I do so want to know what they say 
 
 when they make explanations, as you call them. 
 
 Oh, do tell me, Lucilla, why?" 
 
 "My dear," said Miss Marjoribanks, "a cousin of 
 my own ! and only twenty-one, and reading for the 
 bar ! In the first place, my aunt would never have 
 forgiven me, and I am very fond of my aunt. It's so 
 nice to like all one's relations. I know some girls who 
 can't bear theirs. And then a boy not much older than 
 myself, with nothing but what his mother pleases ! 
 Fortunately he did not just say the words, so I escaped 
 that time ; but, of course, I could understand perfectly 
 what he meant." 
 
 " But, oh, Lucilla, tell me the words," cried the per- 
 sistent questioner; " do, there's a darling ! I am quite 
 sure you have heard them — and I should so like to 
 know exactly what they say ; — do they go down on 
 their knees ? — or do they try to take your hand as they 
 always do in novels ? — or what do they do ? — Oh, 
 Lucilla, tell me, there's a dear ! "
 
 MISS MARJOPJBANKS. 27 
 
 " Nonsense," said Lucilla ; " I only want you to 
 understand that I am not likely to fall into any danger 
 of that sort. My only ambition, Fanny, as I have 
 told you often, is to go home to Carlingford and be a 
 comfort to dear papa." 
 
 " Yes," said Fanny, kissing her devoted companion, 
 " and it is so good of you, dear ; but then you cannot 
 go on all your life being a comfort to dear papa," said 
 the intelligent girl, bethinking herself, and looking 
 again with some curiosity in Lucilla's face. 
 
 " We must leave that to Providence," said Miss 
 Marjoribanks, with a sense of paying a compliment to 
 Providence in intrusting it with such a responsibility. 
 " I have always been guided for the best hitherto," she 
 continued, with an innocent and unintentional profan- 
 ity, which sounded solemn to her equally innocent 
 companion, '' and I don't doubt I shall be so till the 
 end." 
 
 From which it will be perceived that Miss Marjori- 
 banks was of the numerous class of religionists who 
 keep up civilities with heaven, and pay all the proper 
 attentions, and show their respect for the divine govern- 
 ment in a manner befitting persons who know the value 
 of their own approbation. The conversation dropped 
 at this point ; for Lucilla was too important a person 
 to be left to the undivided possession of an inquisitive 
 innocent like Fanny Middleton, who was only sixteen,
 
 28 CHEONICLES OF CARLINGFOED : 
 
 and had never had even a flirtation in her own person. 
 There were no Carlingford girls at Mount Pleasant, 
 except poor little Eose Lake, the drawing-master's 
 second daughter, who had been received on Dr Mar- 
 joribanks's recommendation, and who heard the little 
 children their geography and reading, and gave them 
 little lessons in drawing, by way of paying for her own 
 education ; but then Eose was entirely out of Miss 
 Marjoribanks's way, and could never count for anything 
 in her designs for the future. The girls at Mount 
 Pleasant were good girls on the whole, and were 
 rather improved by the influence of Lucilla, who was 
 extremely good-natured, and, so long as her superiority 
 was duly acknowledged, was ready to do anything for 
 anybody — so that Eose Lake was not at all badly off" 
 in her inferior position. She could be made useful too, 
 which was a great point in her favour ; and Miss Mar- 
 joribanks, who possessed by nature some of the finest 
 qualities of a ruler, instinctively understood and appre- 
 ciated the instruments that came to her hand. As for 
 Eose, she had been brought up at the School of Design 
 in Carlingford, of which, under the supervision of the 
 authorities who, in those days, inhabited Marlborough 
 House, Mr Lake was the master, Eose was the pride 
 of the school in the peaceable days before her mother 
 died ; she did not know much else, poor child, except 
 novels, but her copies " from the round " filled her
 
 MISS MAEJOKIBANKS. 29 
 
 father with admiration, and her design for a Honiton- 
 lace flounce, a spirited composition of dragons' tails 
 and the striking plant called teazle, which flourishes in 
 the neighbourhood of Carlingford (for Mr Lake had 
 leanings towards Preraphaelitism), was thought by the 
 best judges to show a wonderful amount of feeling for 
 art, and just missed being selected for the prize. A 
 girl with such a talent was naturally much appreciated 
 in Mount Pleasant. She made the most charming de- 
 sign for Miss Marjoribanks's handkerchief — " Lucilla," 
 in Gothic characters, enclosed in a wreath of forget-me- 
 nots, skilfully combined with thistle-leaves, which Eose 
 took great pains to explain were so much better adapted 
 to ornamentation than foliage of a less distinct char- 
 acter ; and the young draughtswoman was so charmed 
 by Lucilla's enthusiastic admiration, that she volun- 
 teered to work the design in the cambric, which was a 
 much more serious matter. This was on the eve of 
 Miss ]\Iarjoribanks's final departure from school. She 
 was to spend a year abroad, to the envy of all whom 
 she left behind ; but for herself, Lucilla was not elated. 
 She thought it very probable that she would ascend 
 Mont Blanc as far as the Grands Mulcts at least, and, 
 of course, in spring, go up Vesuvius, having got 
 through the Carnival and Miserere and all the balls in 
 Ptome ; but none of these things moved her out of her 
 usual composure. She took it all in the way of busi-
 
 30 CHRONICLES OF eARLINGFOIlD. 
 
 ness, as she had taken her French and her German and 
 her singing and her political economy. As she stepped 
 into the steamboat at Dover which was to convey her 
 to scenes so new, Lucilla felt more and more that she 
 who held the reorganisation of society in Carlingford 
 in her hands was a woman with a mission. She was 
 going abroad as the heir-apparent went to America and 
 the Holy Land, to complete her education, and fit her- 
 self, by an examination of the peculiarities of other 
 nations, for an illustrious and glorious reign at home.
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 It may be well to seize the opportunity of Miss Marjori- 
 banks's travels, through which it is unnecessary to fol- 
 low her, as they have nothing particular to do with the 
 legitimate history of her great undertaking, to explain 
 a little the state of affairs in Carlingford before this 
 distinguished revolutionary began her labours. It is 
 something like going back into the prehistoric period 
 — those ages of the flint, which only ingenious quarry- 
 men and learned geologists can elucidate — to recall the 
 social condition of the town before Miss Marjoribanks 
 began her Thursday evenings, before St Eoque's Chapel 
 was built or thought of, while Mr Bury, the Evangeli- 
 cal Rector, was still in full activity, and before old Mr 
 Tufton, at Salem Chapel (who sometimes drank tea at 
 the Eectory, and thus had a kind of clandestine en- 
 trance into the dim outskirts of that chaos which was 
 then called society), had his first "stroke." From this 
 latter circumstance alone the entirely disorganised
 
 32 CHEONICLES OF CARLINGFOED : 
 
 condition of affairs will be visible at a glance. . It is 
 true, Mr Vincent, who succeeded Mr Tufton, was re- 
 ceived by Lady Western, in days when public opinion 
 had made great advances ; but then Lady Western 
 was the most good-natured creature in the world, and 
 gave an invitation, when it happened to come into 
 her head, without the least regard for the consequences ; 
 and, after all, Mr Vincent was very nice-looking and 
 clever, and quite presentable. Fortunately, however, 
 the period to which we allude was prior to the entrance 
 of Lady Western into Grange Lane. She was a very 
 pretty woman, and knew how to look like a lady of 
 fashion, which is always of importance ; but she was 
 terribly inconsequent, as Miss Marjoribanks said, and 
 her introductions were not in the least to be depended 
 upon. She was indeed quite capable of inviting a 
 family of retired drapers to meet the best people in 
 Grange Lane, for no better reason than to gratify her 
 proteges, which, of course, was a proceeding calculated 
 to strike at the roots of all society. Fortunately for 
 Carlingford, its reorganisation was in abler hands. 
 Affairs were in an utterly chaotic state at the period 
 when this record commences. There was nothing 
 which could be properly called a centre in the entire 
 town. To be sure, Grange Lane was inhabited, as at 
 present, by the best families in Carlingford ; but then, 
 without organisation, what good does it do to have a
 
 MISS MAKJORIBANKS. 33 
 
 number of people together 1 For example, Mr Bury 
 was utterly unqualified to take any lead. Mrs Bury 
 bad been dead a long time, and the daughters were 
 married, and the Eector's maiden sister, who lived 
 with him, was entirely of his own way of thinking, 
 and asked people to tea-parties, which were like Me- 
 thodists' class-meetings, and where Mr Tufton was to 
 be met with, and sometimes other Dissenters, to whom 
 the Eector gave what he called the right hand of fel- 
 lowship. But he never gave anything else to society, 
 except weak tea and thin bread-and-butter, which was 
 fare, the ladies said, which the gentlemen did not 
 relish. " I never can mduce Charles to go out to tea," 
 said young Mrs Woodburn, piteously; "he won't, and 
 there is an end of it. After dinner he thinks of no- 
 thing but an easy-chair and the papers ; and, my dear 
 Miss Bury, what can I do ? " " It is a great pity, my 
 dear, that your husband's carelessness should deprive 
 you of the benefit of Christian conversation ; but, to 
 be sure, it is your duty to stay with him, and I hope 
 it will be made up to you at home," Miss Bury would 
 say. As for the Eector, his favourites were devoted 
 to him ; and as he always saw enough of familiar faces 
 at his sister's tea-parties, he took no account of the 
 defaulters. Then there was Dr Marjoribanks, who 
 gave only dinners, to which naturally, as there was 
 no lady in the house, ladies could not be invited, and 
 VOL. I. c
 
 34 CHRONICLES OF CARLINGFORD : 
 
 who, besides, was rather a drawback than a benefit to 
 society, since he made the men quite intolerable, and 
 filled them with such expectations, in the way of 
 cookery, that they never were properly content with a 
 good family dinner after. Then the ladies, from whom 
 something might justly have been expected in the way 
 of making society pleasant — such as Mrs Centum and 
 Mrs Woodburn, for example, who had everything they 
 could desire, and the most liberal housekeeping allow- 
 ances — were either incapacitated by circumstances 
 (which was a polite term in use at Carlingford, and 
 meant babies) or by character. Mrs Woodburn liked 
 nothing so well as to sit by the fire and read novels, 
 and "take off" her neighbours, when any one called 
 on her ; and, of course, the lady who was her audience 
 on one occasion, left with the comfortable conviction 
 that next time she would be the victim ; a circum- 
 stance which, indeed, did not make the offender un- 
 popular — for there were very few people in Carling- 
 ford who could be amusing, even at the expense of 
 their neighbours — but made it quite impossible that 
 she should ever do anything in the way of knitting 
 people together, and making a harmonious whole out 
 of the scraps and fragments of society. As for Mrs 
 Chiley, she was old, and had not energy enough for 
 such an undertaking ; and, besides, she had no chil- 
 dren, and disliked bustle and trouble, and was of opin-
 
 MISS MARJORIBANKS. 35 
 
 ion that the Colonel never enjoyed his dinner if he 
 had more than four people to help him to eat it ; and, 
 in short, you might have gone over Grange Lane, 
 house by house, finding a great deal of capital material, 
 but without encountering a single individual capable 
 of making anything out of it. Such was the lament- 
 able condition, at the moment this history commences, 
 of society in Carlingford. 
 
 And yet nobody could say that there were not very 
 good elements to make society with. When you add 
 to a man capable of giving excellent dinners, like Dr 
 Marjoribanks, another man like young Mr Cavendish, 
 Mrs Woodburn's brother, who was a wit and a man of 
 fashion, and belonged to one of the best clubs in town, 
 and brought down gossip with the bloom on it to 
 Grange Lane ; and when you join to Mrs Centum, 
 who was always so good and so much out of temper 
 that it was safe to calculate on something amusing 
 from her, the languid but trenchant humour of Mrs 
 Woodburn — not to speak of their husbands, who were 
 perfectly available for the background, and all the 
 nephews and cousins and grandchildren, who con- 
 stantly paid visits to old Mr Western and Colonel 
 Chiley ; and the Browns, when they were at home,, 
 with their floating suite of admirers ; and the young 
 ladies who sang, and the young ladies who sketched, 
 and the men who went out with the hounds, when
 
 36 CHEONICLES OF CARLINGFOED : 
 
 business permitted tliem ; and the people who came 
 about the town when there was an election ; and the 
 barristers who made the circuit ; and the gay people 
 who came to the races ; not to speak of the varying 
 chances of curates, who could talk or play the piano, 
 with which Mr Bury favoured his parishioners — for he 
 changed his curates very often ; and the occasional 
 visits of the lesser county people, and the country 
 clergymen ; — it will be plainly apparent that all that 
 was wanting to Carlingford was a master-hand to 
 blend these different elements. There had even been 
 a few feeble preliminary attempts at this great work, 
 which had failed, as such attempts always fail when 
 they are premature, and when the real agent of the 
 change is already on the way; but preparations and 
 presentiments had taken vague possession of the mind 
 of the town, as has always been observed to be the 
 case before a great revolution, or when a man destined 
 to put his mark on his generation, as the newspapers 
 say, is about to appear. To be sure, it was not a man 
 this time, but Miss Marjoribanks ; but the atmos- 
 phere thrilled and trembled to the advent of the new 
 luminary all the same. 
 
 Yet, at the same time, the world of Carlingford had 
 not the least idea of the real quarter from which the 
 sovereign intelligence which was to develop it from 
 chaos into order and harmony was, effectivement, to
 
 MISS MAEJOEIBANKS. 37 
 
 come. Some people had hoped in Mrs Woodburn 
 before she fell into her present languor of appearance 
 and expression ; and a great many people hoped in 
 Mr Cavendish's wife, if he married, as he was said to 
 intend to do ; for this gentleman, who was in the 
 habit of describing himself, no doubt, very truthfully, 
 as one of the Cavendishes, was a person of great con- 
 sideration in Grange Lane ; and some hoped in a new 
 Eector, for it was apparent that JVIr Bury could not 
 last very long. Thus, with the ordinary short-sighted- 
 ness of the human species, Carlingford blinded itself, 
 and turned its eyes in every direction in the world 
 rather than in that of the Swiss mountains, which 
 were being climbed at that moment by a large and 
 blooming young woman, with tawny short curls and 
 alert decided movements ; so little do we know what 
 momentous issues may hang upon the most possible 
 accident ! Had that energetic traveller slipped but an 
 inch further upon the mer de glace — had she taken 
 that other step which she was with difficulty persuaded 
 not to take on the Wengern Alp — there would have 
 been an end of all the hopes of social importance for 
 Carlingford. But the good fairies took care of Lucilla 
 and her mission, and saved her from the precipice and 
 the crevasses ; and instinctively the air at home got 
 note of what was coming, and whispered the news 
 mysteriously through the keyholes. " Miss Marjori-
 
 38 CHEONICLES OF CAELINGFORD. 
 
 banks is coming home," the unsuspecting male public 
 said to itself as it returned from Dr Marjoribanks's 
 dinners, with a certain distressing, but mistaken pre- 
 sentiment, that these delights were to come to an end ; 
 and the ladies repeated the same piece of news, con- 
 joining with it benevolent intimations of their inten- 
 tion to call upon her, and make the poor thing feel 
 herself at home. "Perhaps she may be amusing," 
 Mrs Woodburn was good enough to add ; but these 
 words meant only that perhaps Lucilla, who was com- 
 ing to set them all right, was worthy of being placed 
 in the satirist's collection along with Mrs Centum and 
 Mrs Chiley. Thus, while the town ripened more and 
 more for her great mission, and the ignorant human 
 creatures, who were to be her subjects, showed their 
 usual blindness and ignorance, the time drew nearer 
 and nearer for Miss Maijoribanks's return.
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 " My daughter is coming home, Nancy/' said Dr 
 Marjoribanks. " You -will have to make preparations 
 for her immediately. So far as I can make out from 
 this letter, she will arrive to-morrow by the half-past 
 five train." 
 
 " Well, sir," said Nancy, with the tone of a woman 
 who makes the best of a misfortune, '' it ain't every 
 young lady as would have the sense to fix an hour 
 like that. Ladies ia* terrible tiresome in that way; 
 they'll come in the middle o' the day, when a body 
 don't know in the world what to have for them ; or 
 they'll come at night, when a body's tired, and ain't 
 got the heart to go into a supper. There was always 
 a deal of sense in Miss Lucilla, when she hadn't got 
 nothing in her head." 
 
 " Just so," said Dr Marjoribanks, who was rather 
 relieved to have got through the announcement so 
 easily. " You will see that her room is ready, and
 
 40 CHRONICLES OF CARLINGFORD : 
 
 everything comfortable ; and, of course, to-morrow slie 
 and I will dine alone." 
 
 " Yes, sir/' said Nancy ; but this assent was not 
 given in the decisive tone of a woman whose audience 
 was over; and then she was seized with a desire to 
 arrange in a more satisfactory manner the cold beef on 
 the sideboard. When she had secured this little in- 
 terval for thought, she returned again to the table, 
 where her master ate his breakfast, with a presenti- 
 ment. " If you please, sir," said Nancy, " not to give 
 you no vexation nor trouble, which every one knows 
 as it has been the aim o' my life to spare you, as has 
 so much on your mind. But it's best to settle afore 
 commencing, and then we needn't have no heartburn- 
 ing. If you please, am I to take my orders of Miss 
 LuciUa, or of you, as I've always been used to ? In 
 the missus's time," said Nancy, with modest confi- 
 dence, "as was a good missus, and never gave no 
 trouble as long as she had her soup and her jelly 
 comfortable, it was always you as said what there was 
 to be for dinner. I don't make no objection to doing 
 up a nice little luncheon for Miss Lucilla, and giving 
 a little more thought now and again to the sweets ; 
 but it ain't my part to tell you, sir, as a lady's taste, 
 and more special a young lady's, ain't to be expected 
 to be the same as yours and mine as has been culti- 
 vated like. I'm not one as likes contention,'* con-
 
 MISS MAEJORIBANKS. 41 
 
 tinned the domestic oracle, '' but I couldn't abear to 
 see a good master put upon ; and if it should be as 
 Miss Lucilla sets her mind upon messes as ain't got 
 no taste in them, and milk-puddings and stuff, like the 
 most of the ladies, I'd just like to know out of your own 
 mouth, afore the commencement, what I'm to do ? " 
 
 Dr Marjoribanks was so moved by this appeal that 
 he laid down his knife and contemplated the alarming 
 future with some dismay. "It is to be hoped Miss 
 LuciUa will know better," he said. " She has a great 
 deal of good sense, and it is to be hoped that she will 
 be wise enough to consult the tastes of the house." 
 
 But the Doctor was not to be let off so easily. " As 
 you say, sir, everything's to be hoped," said Nancy, 
 steadily ; " but there's a-many ladies as don't seem to 
 me to have got no taste to their mouths ; and it ain't 
 as if it was a thing that could be left to hopes. Sup- 
 posin' as it comes to that, sir, what am I to do ? " 
 
 "Well," said the Doctor, who was himself a little 
 puzzled, " you know Miss Lucilla is nineteen, Nancy, 
 and my only child, and the natural mistress of the 
 house." 
 
 " Sir,"* said Nancy, austerely, " them is things as it 
 ain't needful to name ; that ain't the question as I was 
 asking. Supposin' as things come to such a point, 
 what am I to do ? " 
 
 "Bless me! it's half-past nine," said the Doctor.
 
 42 CHRONICLES OF CARLINGFOED : 
 
 "and I have an appointment. You can come just as 
 usual when we are at breakfast, that wiU be the best 
 way/' he said as he went out at the door, and chuckled 
 a little to himself when he felt he had escaped. " Lu- 
 cilla is her mother's daughter, it is true," he said to 
 himself when he had got into the safe seclusion of his 
 brougham, with a degree of doubt in his tone which 
 was startling, to say the least of it, from the lips of a 
 medical man; "but she is my child all the same," he 
 added, briskly, with returning confidence ; and in this 
 conviction there was something which reassured the 
 Doctor. He rubbed his hands as he bowled along 
 to his appointment, and thought within himself that 
 if she turned out a girl of spirit, as he expected, it 
 would be good fun to see Lucilla's struggle with Nancy 
 for the veritable reins of government. If Dr Marjori- 
 banks had entertained any positive apprehensions that 
 his dinners would be spoiled in consequence, his 
 amusement would have come to an abrupt conclusion; 
 but he trusted entirely in Nancy and a little in Lu- 
 cilla, and suflPered his long upper-Hp to relax at the 
 thought without much fear. 
 
 Her father had not returned from the labours of his 
 long day when Lucilla arrived, but he made his last 
 visits on foot in order to be able to send the brougham 
 for her, which was a great thing for the Doctor to do. 
 There was, indeed, a mutual respect between the two,
 
 MISS MAEJOEIBANKS. 43 
 
 who were not necessary to each other's comfort, it is 
 true, as such near relations sometimes are ; but who, 
 at tlie same time, except on the sole occasion of Mrs 
 Marjoribanks's death, had never misunderstood each 
 other, as sometimes happens. This time Miss Mar- 
 joribanks was rather pleased, on the whole, that the 
 Doctor did not come to meet her. At other times she 
 had been a visitor ; now she had come into her king- 
 dom, and had no desire to be received like a guest. 
 A sense of coming home, warmer than she remembered 
 to have felt before, came into Lucilla's active mind as 
 she stepped into the brougham. Not that the words 
 bore any special tender meaning, notwithstanding that 
 it was the desire of her heart, well known to all her 
 friends, to live henceforward as a comfort to dear papa, 
 but that now at last she was coming into her kingdom, 
 and entering tlie domain in which she intended her 
 will to be law. After living for a year with friends 
 whose arrangements (much inferior to those which she 
 could have made had she had the power) she had to 
 acquiesce in, and whose domestic economy could only 
 be criticised up to a certain point, it was naturally 
 a pleasure to Miss Marjoribanks to feel that now at 
 length she was emancipated, and at liberty to exercise 
 her faculty. There were times during the past year 
 when Lucilla had with difficulty restrained herself from 
 snatching the reins out of the hands of her hosts, and
 
 44 CHEONICLES OF CAELINGFORD : ! 
 
 showing them how to manage. But, impatient as she 
 
 was, she had to restrain herself, and make the best of i 
 
 it. Now all that bondage was over. She felt like a 1 
 
 young king entering in secret a capital which awaits 
 
 him with acclamations. Before she presented herself \ 
 
 to the rejoicing public, there were arrangements to be i 
 
 j 
 made and things to be done ; Snd Miss Marjoribanks i 
 
 gave a rapid glance at the shops in George Street ! 
 as she drove past, and decided which of them she 
 meant to honour with her patronage. When she \ 
 entered the garden it was with the same rapid glance j 
 of reorganising genius that she cast her eyes around it ; | 
 and still more decided was the look with which she ; 
 regarded her own room, where she was guided by ! 
 the new housemaid, who did not know Miss Lu- i 
 cilia. Nancy, who knew no better (being, like most i 
 gifted persons, a woman of one idea), had established 
 her young mistress in the little chamber which had ; 
 been Lucilla's when she was a child; but Miss Mar- 
 joribanks, who had no sentimental notions about white j 
 dimity, shook her head at the frigid little apartment, ^ 
 where, however, she was not at all sorry to be placed | 
 at present ; for if Dr Marjoribanks had been a man of ! 
 the prevenant class, disposed to make all the prepara- ' 
 tions possible for his daughter, and arrange elegant : 
 
 surprises for her, he would have thoroughly disgusted * 
 
 i 
 Lucilla, who was bent on making all the necessary \ 
 
 i
 
 MISS MARJORIBANKS. 45 
 
 improvements in her own person. When she went 
 down to the drawing-room to await her father, Miss 
 !Marjoribanks's look of disapprobation was mingled 
 with so much satisfaction and content in herself that 
 it was pleasant to behold. She shook her head and 
 shrugged her shoulders as she paused in the centre of 
 the large faded room, where there was no light but 
 that of the fire, which burned brightly, and kept up a 
 lively play of glimmer and shadow in the tall glass 
 over the fireplace, and even twinkled dimly in the 
 three long windows, where the curtains hung stiff and 
 solemn in their daylight form. It was not an uncom- 
 fortable sort of big, dull, faded, respectable drawing- 
 room ; and if there had been a family in it, with 
 recollections attached to every old ottoman and easy- 
 chair, no doubt it would have been charming ; but it 
 was only a waste and howling wilderness to Lucilla. 
 When she had walked from one end to the other, and 
 verified all the plans she had already long ago con- 
 ceived for the embellishment of this inner court and 
 centre of her kingdom, Lucilla walked with her un- 
 hesitating step to the fire, and took a match and lighted 
 all the candles in the large old-fashioned candlesticks, 
 which had been flickering in grotesque shadows all 
 over the roof. This proceeding threw a flood of light 
 on the subject of her considerations, and gave Miss 
 Marjoribanks an idea, in passing, about the best mode
 
 46 CHRONICLES OF CARLINGFORD : 
 
 of lighting, which she afterwards acted upon with great 
 success. She was standing in this flood of light, re- 
 garding everything around her with the eye of an 
 enlightened critic and reformer, when Dr Marjoribanks 
 came in. Perhaps there arose in the soul of the Doctor 
 a momentary thought that the startling amount of 
 edairage which he witnessed was scarcely necessary, 
 for it is certain that he gave a momentary glance at 
 the candles as he went up to greet his daughter ; but 
 he was far too well-bred a man to suggest such an idea 
 at the moment. On the contrary, he kissed her with a 
 sentiment of real pleasure, and owned to himself that, 
 if she was not a fool, and could keep to her own de- 
 partment, it might be rather agreeable on the whole to 
 have a woman in the house. The sentiment was not 
 enthusiastic, and neither were the words of his saluta- 
 tion — " Well, Lucilla ; so this is you!" said the mod- 
 erate and unexcited father. "Yes, papa, it is me," 
 said Miss Marjoribanks, " and very glad to get home ;" 
 and so the two sat down and discussed the journey — 
 whether she had been cold, and what state the railway 
 was in — till the Doctor bethought himself that he had 
 to prepare for dinner. " Nancy is always very punc- 
 tual, and I am sure you are hungry," he said ; " so I'll 
 go up-stairs, with your permission, Lucilla, and change 
 my coat ;" and with this the actual arrival terminated, 
 and the new reign began.
 
 MISS MARJORIBANKS. 47 
 
 But it was only next morning that the young 
 sovereign gave any intimation of her future policy. 
 She had naturally a great deal to tell that first night ; 
 and though it was exclusively herself, and her own 
 adventures and achievements, which Miss Marjori- 
 banks related, the occasion of her return made that 
 sufficiently natural ; and the Doctor was not altogether 
 superior to the natural prejudice which makes a man 
 interested, even when they are not in themselves par- 
 ticularly interesting, in the doings of his children. 
 She succeeded in doing what is certainly one of the 
 first duties of a woman — she amused her father. He 
 followed her to the drawing-room for a marvel, and 
 took a cup of tea, though it was against his principles ; 
 and, on the whole, Lucilla had the satisfaction of feel- 
 ing that she had made a conquest of the Doctor, 
 which, of course, was the grand and most essential 
 preliminary. In the little interval which he spent 
 over his claret. Miss Marjoribanks had succeeded in 
 effecting another fundalfcental duty of woman — she 
 had, as she herself expressed it, harmonised the 
 rooms, by the simple method of re-arranging half the 
 chairs and covering the tables with trifles of her own 
 — a proceeding which converted the apartment from 
 an abstract English drawing-room of the old school 
 into Miss Marjoribanks's drawing-room, an individual 
 spot of ground revealing something of the character of
 
 48 CHEONICLES OF CARLINGFORD : 
 
 its mistress. The Doctor himself was so moved by 
 this, that he looked vaguely round when he came in, 
 as if a little doubtful where he was — but that might 
 only be the effect of the sparkling mass of candles on 
 the mantelioiece, which he was too well-bred to remark 
 upon the first night. But it was only in the morning 
 that LucUla unfolded her standard. She was down 
 to breakfast, ready to pour out the coffee, before the 
 Doctor had left his room. He found her, to his 
 intense amazement, seated at the foot of the table, in 
 the place which he usually occupied himself, before 
 the urn and the coffee-pot. Dr Marjoribanks hesi- 
 tated for one momentous instant, stricken dumb by 
 this unparalleled audacity; but so great was the effect 
 of his daughter's courage and steadiness, that after 
 that moment of fate he accepted the seat by the side 
 where everything was arranged for him, and to which 
 Lucilla invited him sweetly, though not without a 
 touch of mental perturbation. The moment he had 
 seated himself, the Doctor's eyes were opened to the 
 importance of the stej) he had taken. " I am afraid 
 I have taken your seat, papa," said Miss Marjoribanks, 
 with ingenuous sweetness. " But then I should have 
 had to move the urn, and all the things, and I thought 
 you would not mind." The Doctor said nothing but 
 ''• Humph ! " and even that in an under-tone ; but he 
 became aware all the same that he had abdicated,
 
 MISS MAKJORIBANKS. 49 
 
 without knowing it, and that the reins of state 
 had been smilingly withdrawn from his unconscious 
 hands. 
 
 When Nancy made her appearance the fact became 
 still more apparent, though still in the sweetest way. 
 " It is so dreadful to think papa should have been 
 bothered witli all these things so long," said Miss Mar- 
 joribanks. "After this I am sure you and I, Nancy, 
 can arrange it all without giving him the trouble. 
 Perhaps this morning, papa, as I am a stranger, you 
 will say if there is anything you would like, and then 
 I shall have time to talk it all over with Nancy, and 
 find out what is best," — and Lucilla smiled so sweetly 
 upon her two amazed subjects that the humour of the 
 situation caught the fancy of the Doctor, who had a 
 keen perception of the ridiculous. 
 
 He laughed out, much to Nancy's consternation, 
 who was standing by in open-eyed dismay. "Very 
 well, Lucilla," he said ; " you shall try what you can 
 do. I daresay Nancy will be glad to have me back 
 again before long ; but in the mean time I am quite 
 content that you should try," and he went off laughing 
 to his brougham, but came back again before Lucilla 
 could take Nancy in hand, who was an antagonist 
 more formidable. " I forgot to tell you," said the 
 Doctor, " that Tom Marjoribanks is coming on Circuit, 
 and that I have asked him to stay here, as a matter 
 
 VOL. I. D
 
 50 CHRONICLES OF CARLINGFORD : 
 
 of course. I suppose hell arrive to-morrow. Good- 
 bye till the evening." 
 
 This, though Dr Marjoribanks did not in the least 
 intend it, struck Lucilla like a Parthian arrow, and 
 brought her down for the moment. "Tom Marjori- 
 banks ! " she ejaculated in a kind of horror. " Of all 
 people in the world, and at this moment ! " but when 
 she saw the open eyes and rising colour of Nancy the 
 young dictator recovered .herself — for a conqueror in 
 the first moment of his victory has need to be wary. 
 She called Nancy to her in her most affectionate tones 
 as she finished her breakfast. "I sent papa away," 
 said Miss Marjoribanks, " because I wanted to have a 
 good talk with you, Nancy. I want to tell you my 
 object in life. It is to be a comfort to papa. Ever 
 since poor mamma died that is what I have been 
 thinking of ; and now I have come home, and I have 
 made up my mind that he is not to be troubled about 
 anything. I know what a good, faithful, valuable 
 woman you are, I assure you. You need not think 
 me a foolish girl who is not able to appreciate you. 
 The dinner was charming last night, Nancy," said Lu- 
 cilla, with much feeling ; " and I never saw anything 
 more beautifully cooked than papa's cutlets to-day." 
 
 " Miss Lucilla, I may say as I am very glad I have 
 pleased you," said Nancy, who was not quite conquered 
 as yet. She stood very stiffly upright by the table.
 
 MISS MAEJOEIBANKS. 51 
 
 and maintained her integrity. " Master is particular, 
 I don't deny," continued the prime minister, who felt 
 herself dethroned. " I've always done my best to go 
 in with his little fancies, and I don't mean to say as it 
 isn't right and natural as you should be the missis. 
 But I ain't used to have ado with ladies, and that's 
 the truth. Ladies is stingy in a-many things as is the 
 soul of a good dinner to them as knows. I may be 
 valleyable or not, it ain't for me to say ; but I'm not 
 one as can always be kept to a set figger in my gravy- 
 beef, and my bacon, and them sorts of things. As for 
 the butter, I don't know as I could give nobody an 
 idea. I ain't one as likes changes, but I can't abide 
 to be kept to a set figger ; and that's the chief thing, 
 ^liss Lucilla, as I've got to say." 
 
 "And quite reasonable too," said Miss Marjoribanks ; 
 "you and I will work 'perfectly well together, Nancy. 
 I am sure we have both the same meaning ; and I hope 
 you don't think I am less concerned about dear papa 
 than about the gravy-beef. He must have been very 
 desolate, with no one to talk to, though he has been 
 so good and kind and self-sacrificing in leaving me to 
 get every advantage ; but I mean to make it up to 
 him, now IVe come home." 
 
 " Yes, miss," said Nancy, somewhat mystified ; " not 
 but what master has had his little parties now and 
 again, to cheer him up a bit ; and I make bold to say, 
 
 QBRARY 
 
 fgrnvtRsmr OF tiiwoi^
 
 52 CHEONICLES OF CAELIXGFOED : 
 
 miss, as I have heard compliments, which it was 
 Thomas that brought 'em down-stairs, as might go 
 nigh to turn a body's head, if it was vanity as I was 
 thinking of; but I ain't one as thinks of anything but 
 the comfort of the family," said Xancy, yielding in 
 spite of herself to follow the leadings of the higher 
 will in presence of which she found herself, " and I'm 
 always one as does my best, Miss Lucilla, if I ain't 
 worried nor kept to a set figger with my gravy-beef." 
 
 " I have heard of papa's dinners," said Lucilla, graci- 
 ously, " and I don't mean to let down your reputation, 
 ISTancy. Now we are two women to manage every- 
 thing, we ought to do still better. I have two or 
 three things in my head that I will tell you after ; 
 but in the mean time I want you to know that the 
 object of my life is to be a comfort to poor papa ; and 
 now let us think what we had better have for dinner," 
 said the new sovereign. ISTancy was so totally unpre- 
 pared for this manner of dethronement, that she gave 
 in like her master. She followed ]\Iis3 Marjoribanks 
 humbly into those details in which LuciQa speedily 
 proved herself a woman of original mind, and powers 
 quite equal to her undertaking. The Doctor's formid- 
 able housekeeper conducted her young mistress down- 
 stairs afterwards, and showed her everything with the 
 meekness of a saint. Lucilla had won a second victory 
 still more exhilarating and satisfactory than the first ;
 
 ]\IISS MARJORIBANKS. 53 
 
 for, to be sure, it is no great credit to a woman of nine- 
 teen to make a man of any age throw down liis arms ; 
 but to conquer a woman is a different matter, and 
 Lucilla was thoroughly sensible of the difference. 
 Xow, indeed, she could feel with a sense of reality 
 that her foundations were laid. 
 
 Mss Marjoribanks had enough of occupation for 
 that day, and for many days. But her mind was a 
 little distracted by her father's parting intelligence, 
 and she had, besides, a natural desire to view, the 
 country she had come to conquer. When she had 
 made a careful supervision of the house, and shifted 
 her own quarters into the pleasantest of the two best 
 bedrooms, and concluded that the little bare dimity 
 chamber she had occupied the previous night was 
 quite good enough for Tom Marjoribanks, Lucilla put 
 on her hat and went out to make a little reconnaissance. 
 She walked down to the spot where St Eoque's now 
 stands, on her own side of Grange Lane, and up on the 
 other side into George Street, suiTeying all the capa- 
 bilities of the place with a rapid but penetrating glance. 
 Dr Marjoribanks's house could not have been better 
 placed as a strategic position, commanding as it did 
 all Grange Lane, of which it was, so to speak, the key, 
 and yet affording a base of communication with the 
 profaner public, which Miss Marjoribanks was wise 
 enough to know a leader of society should never ignore
 
 54 CHRONICLES OF CAKLINGFORD : 
 
 completely ; for, indeed, one of the great advantages of 
 that brilliant position is, that it gives a woman a right 
 to be arbitrary, and to select her materials according to 
 her judgment. It was more from a disinclination to 
 repeat herself than any other motive that Lncilla, when 
 she had concluded this preliminary survey, went up 
 into Grove Street, meaning to return home that way. 
 At that hour in the morning the sun was shining on 
 the little gardens on the north side of the street, which 
 was the plebeian side ; and as it was the end of Octo- 
 ber, and by no means warm, Lucilla was glad to cross 
 over and continue her walk by the side of those little 
 enclosures where the straggling chrysanthemums prop- 
 ped each other up, and the cheerful Michaelmas daisies 
 made the best of it in the sunshine that remained to 
 them. Miss Marjoribanks had nearly reached Salem 
 Chapel, which pushed itself forward amid the cosy 
 little line of houses, pondering in her mind the unex- 
 pected hindrance which was about to be placed in her ♦ 
 triumphant path, in the shape of Tom Marjoribanks, 
 when that singular piece of good fortune occurred to 
 her which had so much effect upon her career in Car- 
 lingford. Such happy accidents rarely happen, except 
 to great generals or heroes of romance ; and it would 
 have been, perhaps, a presumption on the part of 
 Lucilla to place herself conspicuously in either of these 
 categories. The fact is, however, that at this eventful
 
 MISS MARJORIBANKS. 55 
 
 moment she was walking along under the shade of her 
 pretty parasol, not expecting anything, but absorbed in 
 many thoughts, and a little cast down in her expecta- 
 tions of success by a consciousness that this unlucky 
 cousin would insist upon making love to her, and per- 
 haps even, as she herself expressed it, saying the words 
 which it had taken all her skill to prevent him from 
 saying before. Not that we would have any one 
 believe that love-making in the abstract was disagree- 
 able to Miss Maijoribanks ; but she was only nineteen, 
 well off and good-looking, and with plenty of time for 
 all that; and at the present moment she had other 
 matters of more importance in hand. It was while 
 occupied with these reflections, and within three doors 
 of Salem Chapel, in front of a little garden where a 
 great deal of mignonette had run to seed, and where 
 the ]\Iichaelmas daisies had taken full possession, that 
 Lucilla was roused suddenly out of her musings. The 
 surprise was so great that she stopped short and stood 
 still before the house in the extremity of her astonish- 
 ment and delight. Who could it be that possessed 
 that voice which Miss Marjoribanks felt by instinct 
 was the very one thing wanting — a round, full, delicious 
 contralto, precisely adapted to supplement without 
 supplanting her own high-pitched and much-cultivated 
 organ ? She stopped short before the door and made 
 a rapid observation even in the first moment of her
 
 56 CHRONICLES OF CARLINGFOED. 
 
 surprise. The house was not exactly like the other 
 humble houses in Grove Street. Two little blank 
 squares hung in the centre of each of the lower win- 
 dows, revealed to Lucilla's educated eye the existence 
 of so much ''feeling" for art as can be satisfied with a 
 transparent porcelain version of a famous Madonna ; 
 and she could even catch a glimpse, through the cur- 
 tains of the best room — which, contrary to the wont 
 of humble gentility in Carlingford, were well drawn 
 back, and allowed the light to enter fully — of the glim- 
 mer of gilt picture-frames. And in the little garden 
 in front, half-buried among the mignonette, were some 
 remains of plaster-casts, originally placed there for 
 ornament, but long since cast down by rain and neglect. 
 Lucilla made her observations with the promptitude of 
 an accomplished warrior, and before the second bar of 
 the melody indoors was finished, had knocked very 
 energetically. "Is Miss Lake at home?" she asked, 
 with confidence, of the little maid-servant who opened 
 the door to her. And it was thus that Lucilla made 
 her first bold step out of the limits of Grange Lane for 
 the good of society, and secured at once several import- 
 ant personal advantages, and the great charm of those 
 Thursday evenings which made so entire a revolution 
 in the taste and ideas of Carlingford.
 
 CHAPTEE V. 
 
 Miss Maejoeibanks did not leave the contralto any 
 time to recover from lier surprise ; she went up to her 
 direct where she stood, with her song arrested on her 
 lips, as she had risen hastily from the piano. " Is it 
 Kose ? " said Lucilla, going forward with the most 
 eager cordiality, and holding out both her hands ; 
 though, to be sure, she knew very well it was not 
 Eose, who was about half the height of the singer, and 
 was known to everybody in Mount Pleasant to be 
 utterly innocent of a voice. 
 
 " No," said Miss Lake, who was much astonished 
 and startled and offended, as was unfortunately rather 
 her custom. She was a young woman without any of 
 those instincts of politeness, which make some people 
 pleasant in spite of themselves ; and she added nothing 
 to soften this abrupt negative, but drew her hands away 
 from the stranger and stood bolt upright, looking at 
 her, with a burning blush, caused by temper much more 
 than by embarrassment, on her face.
 
 58 CHRONICLES OF CARLINGFORD : 
 
 " Then," said Lucilla, dropping lightly into the most 
 comfortable chair she could get sight of in the bare little 
 parlour, " it is Barbara — and that is a great deal better ; 
 Eose is a good little thing, but — she is different, you 
 know. It is so odd you should not remember me ; I 
 thought everybody knew me in Carlingford. You know 
 I have been a long time away, and now I have come 
 home for good. Your voice is just the very thing 
 to go with mine : was it not a lucky thing that 
 I should have passed just at the right moment ? I 
 don't know how it is, but somehow these lucky chances 
 always happen to me. I am Lucilla Marjoribanks, you 
 know." 
 
 " Indeed ! " said Barbara, who had not the least in- 
 tention of being civil, " I did not recognise you in the 
 least.'' 
 
 " Yes, I remember you were always shortsighted a 
 little," said Miss Marjoribanks, calmly. " I should so 
 like if we could try a duet. I have been having les- 
 sons in Italy, you know, and I am sure I could give 
 you a few hints. I always like, when I can, to be of 
 use. Tell me what songs you have that we could sing 
 together. You know, my dear, it is not as if I was 
 asking you for mere amusement to myself ; my grand 
 object in life is to be a comfort to papa " 
 
 " Do you mean Dr Marjoribanks ? " said the uncivil 
 Barbara. " I am sure he does not care in the least
 
 MISS MAEJORIBANKS. _ 59 
 
 for music. I think you must be making a mis- 
 take " 
 
 " Oh no," said Lucilla, " I never make mistakes. I 
 don't mean to sing to him, you know ; but you are 
 just the very person I wanted. As for the ridiculous 
 idea some people have that nobody can be called on 
 who does not live in Grange Lane, I assure you I 
 mean to make an end of that. Of course I cannot 
 commence just all in a moment. But it would always 
 be an advantage to practise a little together. I like to 
 know exactly how far one can calculate upon every- 
 body ; then one can tell, without fear of breaking- 
 down, just what one may venture to do."" 
 
 " I don't understand in the least," said Barbara, 
 whose pride was up in arms. " Perhaps you think I 
 am a professional singer ? " 
 
 " My- dear, a professional singer spoils everything," 
 said ]\Iiss Marjoribanks ; " it changes the character of 
 an evening altogether. There are so few people who 
 understand that. When you have professional sing- 
 ers, you have to give yourself up to music ; and 
 that is not my view in the least. My great aim, 
 as all my friends are aware, is to be a comfort to 
 dear papa." 
 
 " I wish you would not talk in riddles," said Lucilla's 
 amazed and indignant companion, in her round rich 
 contralto. " I suppose you really are Miss Marjori-
 
 60 CHRONICLES OF CARLINGFORD : 
 
 banks. I have' always heard that Miss Marjoribanks 
 
 was a little " 
 
 " There ! " said Lucilla, triumphantly ; " really it is 
 almost like a recitative to hear you speak. I am so 
 glad. What have you got there ? Oh, to be sure, it's 
 tliat duet out of the Trovatore. Do let us try it ; 
 there is nobody here, and everything is so con- 
 venient — and you know it would never do to risk a 
 breakdown. Will you play the accompaniment, or 
 shall I ?" said Miss Marjoribanks, taking off her gloves. 
 As for the drawing-master's daughter, she stood aghast, 
 lost in such sudden bewilderment and perplexity that 
 she could find no words to reply. She was not in the 
 least amiable or yielding by nature ; but Lucilla took 
 it so much as a matter of course that Barbara could 
 not find a word to say ; and before she could be sure 
 that it was real, Miss Marjoribanks had seated herself 
 at the piano. Barbara was so obstinate that she would 
 not sing the first part, which ought to have been hers ; 
 but she was not clever enough for her antagonist. 
 Lucilla sang her part by herself gallantly ; and when 
 it came to Barbara's turn the second time, Miss Mar- 
 joribanks essayed the second in a false voice, which 
 drove the contralto off her guard ; and then the mag- 
 nificent volume of sound flowed forth, grand enough to 
 have filled Lucilla with envy if she had not been sus- 
 tained by that sublime confidence in herself which is
 
 MISS MAEJOEIBANKS. 61 
 
 the first necessity to a woman with a mission. She 
 paused a moment in the accompaniment to clap her 
 hands after that strophe was accomplished, and then 
 resumed with energy. For, to be sure, she knew by 
 instinct what sort of clay the people were made of by 
 whom she had to work, and gave them their reward 
 with that liberality and discrimination which is the 
 glory of enlightened despotism. Miss Marjoribanks 
 was naturally elated when she had performed this im- 
 portant and successful tour. She got up from the 
 piano, and closed it in her open, imperial way. " I do 
 not want to tire you, you know," she said ; " that will 
 do for to-day. I told you your voice was the very 
 thing to go with mine. Give my love to Eose when 
 she comes in, but don't bring her with you when you 
 come to me. She is a good little thing — but then she 
 is different, you know," said the bland Lucilla ; and 
 she held out her hand to her captive graciously, and 
 gathered up her parasol, which she had left on her chair. 
 Barbara Lake let her visitor go after this, with a sense 
 that she had fallen asleep, and had dreamt it all ; but, 
 after all, there was something in the visit which was 
 not disagreeable when she came to think it over. The 
 drawing-master was poor, and he had a quantity of 
 children, as was natural, and Barbara had never for- 
 given her mother for dying just at the moment when 
 she had a chance of seeing a little of what she called
 
 62 CHRONICLES OF CARLINGFORD : 
 
 the world. At that time Mr Lake and his portfolio of 
 drawings were asked out frequently to tea ; and when 
 he had pupils in the family, some kind people asked 
 him to bring one of his daughters with him — so that 
 Barbara, who was ambitious, had beheld herself for a 
 "month or two almost on the threshold of Grange Lane. 
 And it was at this moment of all others, just at the 
 same time as Mrs Marjoribanks finished her pale 
 career, that poor Mrs Lake thought fit to die, to the 
 injury of her daughter's prospects and the destruction 
 of her hopes. Naturally Barbara had never quite for- 
 given that injury. It was this sense of having been 
 ill-used which made her so resolute about sending Eose 
 to Mount Pleasant, though the poor little girl did not 
 in the least want to go, and was very happy helping 
 her papa at the School of Design. But Barbara saw 
 no reason why Eose should be happy, while she her- 
 self had to resign her inclinations and look after a set 
 of odious children. To be sure, it was a little hard 
 upon a young woman of a proper ambition, who knew 
 she was handsome, to fall back into housekeeping, and 
 consent to remain unseen and unheard ; for Barbara 
 was also aware that she had a remarkable voice. In 
 these circumstances, it may be imagined that, after the 
 first movement of a passionate temper was over, when 
 she had taken breath, and had time to consider this 
 sudden and extraordinary visit, a glimmer of hope
 
 MISS MATUORIBANKS. 63 
 
 and interest penetrated into the bosom of the gloomy 
 girl. She was two years older than Miss Marjoribanks, 
 and as different in " style " as she was in voice. She 
 was not stout as yet, though it is the nature of a con- 
 tralto to be stout ; but she was tall, with all due oppor- 
 tunity for that development which might come later. 
 And then Barbara possessed a kind of beauty, the 
 beauty of a passionate an4 somewhat sullen brunette, 
 dark and glowing, with straight black eyebrows, very 
 dark and very straight, which gave, oddly enough, a 
 suggestion of oblique vision to her eyes ; but her eyes 
 were not in the least oblique, and looked at you straight 
 from under that black line of shadow with no doubtful 
 expression. She was shy in a kind of way, as was 
 natural to a young woman who had never seen any 
 society, and felt herself, on the whole, injured and un- 
 appreciated. But no two things could be more differ- 
 ent than this shyness which made Barbara look you 
 straight in the face with a kind of scared defiance, and 
 the sweet shyness that pleaded for kind treatment in 
 the soft eyes of little Rose, who was plain, and had the 
 oddest longing to make people comfortable, and please 
 them in her way, which, to be sure, was not always 
 successful. Barbara sat down on the stool before the 
 piano, which Miss Marjoribanks-had been so obliging 
 as to close, and thought it all over with growing ex- 
 citement. No doubt it was a little puzzling to make
 
 64 CHRO^^ICLES OF CAELIXGFOED : 
 
 out how the discovery of a fine contralto, and the pos- 
 sibility of getting up unlimited duets, could further 
 Lucilla in the great aim of her life, which was to be a 
 comfort to her dear papa. But Barbara was like a 
 young soldier of fortune, ready to take a great deal for 
 granted, and to swallow much that was mysterious in 
 the programme of the adventurous general who might 
 lead her on to glory. In half an hour her dreams had 
 gone so far that she saw herself receiving in Miss 
 Marjoribanks's drawing-room the homage, not only of 
 Grange Lane, but even of the county families, who 
 would be attracted by rumours of her wonderful per- 
 formance ; and Barbara was, to her own consciousness, 
 walking up the middle aisle of Carlingford Church in 
 a veil of real Brussels, before little Mr Lake came in, 
 hungry and good-tempered, from his round. To be 
 sure, she had not concluded who was to be the bride- 
 groom ; but that was one of those matters of detail 
 which could not be precisely concluded on till the 
 time. 
 
 Such was the immediate result, so far as this secon- 
 dary personage was concerned, of Lucilla's masterly 
 impromptu ; and it is needless to say that the accom- 
 plished warrior, who had her wits always about her, 
 and had made, while engaged in a simple reconnais- 
 sance, so brilliant and successful a capture, withdrew 
 from the scene still more entirely satisfied vsdth herself.
 
 MISS MAKJORIBANKS. 65 
 
 Nothing, indeed, could liave come more opportunely 
 for Liicilla, who possessed in perfection that faculty of 
 throwing herself into the future, and anticipating the 
 difficulties of a position, which is so valuable to all 
 who aspire to be leaders of mankind. With a prudence 
 which Dr Marjoribanks himself would have acknow- 
 ledged to be remarkable " in a person of her age and 
 sex," Lucilla had already foreseen that to amuse her 
 guests entirely in her own person, would be at once 
 impracticable and ''bad style." The first objection 
 might have been got over, for Miss Marjoribanks had 
 a soul above the ordinary limits of possibility, but the 
 second was unanswerable. This discovery, however, 
 satisfied all the necessities of the position. Lucilla, 
 who was liberal, as genius ought always to be, was 
 perfectly willing that all the young ladies in Carling- 
 ford should sing their little songs while she was enter- 
 taining her guests ; and then at the right moment, 
 when her ruling mind saw it was necessary, would 
 occur the duet — the one duet which would be the 
 great feature of the evening. Thus it will be seen 
 that another quality of the highest order developed 
 itself during Miss iSIarjoribanks's deliberations ; for, to 
 tell the truth, she set a good deal of store by her voice, 
 and had been used to applause, and had tasted the 
 sweetness of individual success. This, however, she 
 was willing to sacrifice for the enhanced and magnifi- 
 
 VOL, I, E
 
 66 CHRONICLES OF CARLINGFORD : i 
 
 cent effect wliich she felt could be produced by the 
 combination of the two voices ; and the sacrifice was 
 one which a weaker woman would have been incapable ; 
 of making. She went home past Salem Chapel by the ' 
 little lane which makes a line of communication be- ] 
 tween the end of Grove Street and the beginning of I 
 Grange Lane, with a sentiment of satisfaction worthy 
 the greatness of her mission. Dr Marjoribanks never \ 
 came home to lunch, and indeed had a contempt for I 
 that feminine indulgence ; which, to be sure, might be 
 accounted for by the fact, that about that time in the ! 
 day the Doctor very often found himself to be pass- 
 ing close by one or other of the houses in the neigh- 
 bourhood which had a reputation for good sherry or j 
 madeira, such as exists no more. Lucilla, accordingly, | 
 had her lunch alone, served to her with respectful care ; 
 by Nancy, who was still under the impression of the l 
 interview of the morning ; and it occurred to Miss ] 
 Marjoribanks, as she sat at table alone, that this was ; 
 an opportunity too valuable to be left unimproved ; \ 
 for, to be sure, there are few things more pleasant ; 
 than a little impromptu luncheon-party, where every- I 
 body comes without being expected, fresh from the \ 
 outside world, and ready to tell all that is going on ; I 
 
 though, on the other hand, it was a little doubtful how ' 
 
 i 
 it might work in Carlingford, where the men had 
 
 generally something to do, and where the married "
 
 MISS MARJORIBANKS. 67 
 
 ladies took their luncheon when the children had their 
 dinner, and presided at the nursery meal. And as for 
 a party of young ladies, even supposing they had the 
 courage to come, with no more solid admixture of the 
 more important members of society, Lucilla, to tell the 
 truth, had no particular taste for that. Miss Marjori- 
 banks reflected as she ate — and indeed, thanks to her 
 perfect health and her agreeable morning walk, Lucilla 
 had a very pretty appetite, and enjoyed her meal in a 
 way that would have been most satisfactory to her 
 many friends — that it must be by way of making his 
 visit, which was aoo-ravatino; under all circumstances, 
 more aggravating still, that Tom Marjoribanks had 
 decided to come now, of all times in the world. " If 
 he had waited till things were organised, he might 
 have been of a little use," Lucilla said to herself; 
 " for at least he could have brought some of the men 
 that come on circuit, and that would have made a 
 little novelty ; but, of course, just now it would never 
 do to make a rush at people, and invite them all at 
 once." After a moment's consideration, however, Miss 
 Marjoribanks, with her usual candour, reflected that 
 it was not in Tom Marjoribanks's power to change the 
 time of the Carlingford assizes, and that, accordingly, 
 he was not to be blamed in this particular at least. 
 " Of course it is not his fault," she added, to herself, 
 '' but it is astonishing how things happen with som6
 
 68 CHRONICLES OF CARLINGFOED : 
 
 men always at the wrong moment ; and it is so like 
 Tom." These reflections were interrupted by the ar- 
 rival of visitors, whom Miss Marjoribanks received 
 with her usual grace. The first was old Mrs Chiley, 
 who kissed Lucilla, and wanted to know how she had 
 enjoyed herself on the Continent, and if she had 
 brought many pretty things home. "My dear, you 
 have grown ever so much since the last time I saw 
 you," the old lady said in her grandmotherly way, 
 " and stout with it, which is such a comfort with a tall 
 girl ; and then your poor dear mamma was so delicate. 
 I have always been a little anxious about you on that 
 account, Lucilla ; and I am so glad, my dear, to see 
 you looking so strong." 
 
 "Dear Mrs Chiley," said Miss Marjoribanks, who 
 perhaps in her heart was not quite so gratified by this 
 compliment as the old lady intended, " the great aim 
 of my life is to be a comfort to dear papa." 
 
 Mrs Chiley was very much moved by this filial 
 piety, and she told Lucilla that story about the Colo- 
 nel's niece, Susan, who was such a good daughter, and 
 had refused three excellent ofi'ers, to devote herself to 
 her father and mother, with which the public in Grange 
 Lane were tolerably acquainted. " And one of them 
 was a baronet, my dear," said Mrs Chiley. Miss 
 Marjoribanks did not make any decided response, for 
 she felt that it would be dangerous to commit herself
 
 MISS MARJOKIBANKS. 69 
 
 to such a height of self-abnegation as that ; but the 
 old lady was quite pleased to hear of her travels and 
 adventures instead ; and stayed so long that Mrs 
 Centum and Mrs Woodburn, who happened to arrive 
 at the same moment, found her still there. Mrs 
 Chiley was a little afraid of Mrs Woodburn, and she 
 took her leave hastily, with another kiss ; and Lucilla 
 found herself face to face with the only two women 
 who could attempt a rival enterprise to her own in 
 Carliugford. As for Mrs Woodburn, she had settled 
 herself in an easy- chair by the fire, and was fully pre- 
 pared to take notes. To be sure, Lucilla was the very 
 person to fall victim to her arts ; for that confidence 
 in herself which, in one point of view, gave grandeur 
 to the character of Miss Marjoribanks, gave her also a 
 certain ' naivete and openness which the most simple 
 rustic could not have surpassed. 
 
 "I am sure by her face she has been telling you 
 about my niece Susan/' said the mimic, assuming Mrs 
 Chiley 's tone, and almost her appearance, for the 
 moment, " and that one of them was a baronet, my 
 dear. I always know from her looks what she has 
 been saying ; and ' the Colonel was much as usual, 
 but suffering a little from the cold, as he always does 
 in this climate.' She must be a good soul, for she 
 always has her favourite little speeches written in her 
 face."
 
 70 CHEONICLES OF CAELINGFORD : 
 
 " I am sure I don't know," said Miss Marjoribanks, 
 who felt it was her duty to make an example ; " there 
 has always been one thing remarked of me all my life, 
 that I never have had a great sense of humour. I 
 know it is singular, but when one has a defect, it is 
 always so much better to confess it. I always get on 
 very well with anything else, but I never had any 
 sense of humour, you know ; and I am very fond of 
 Mrs Chiley. She has always had a fancy for me from 
 the time I was born ; and she has such nice manners. 
 But then, it is so odd I should have no sense of 
 humour," said Lucilla, addressing herself to INIrs 
 Centum, who was sitting on the sofa by her. " Don't 
 you think it is very odd ? " 
 
 " I am sure it is very nice," said Mrs Centum. " I 
 hate people that laugh at everything. I don't see 
 much to laugh at myself, I am sure, in this distracting 
 world ; any one who has a lot of children and servants 
 like me to look after, finds very little to laugh at." 
 And she seized the opportunity to enter upon domestic 
 circumstances. Mrs Woodburn did not answer a word. 
 She made a most dashing murderous sketch of Lucilla, 
 but that did the future ruler of Carlingford very little 
 harm ; and then, by the evening, it was known through 
 all Grange Lane that Miss Marjoribanks had snubbed 
 the caricaturist who kept all the good people in terror 
 of their lives. Snubbed her absolutely, and took the
 
 MISS MAKJOEIBANKS. 71 
 
 words out of lier very mouth, was the report that flew 
 through Grange Lane ; and it may be imagined how 
 Lucilla's prestige rose in consequence, and how much 
 people began to expect of Miss Marjoribanks, who had 
 performed such a feat ahnost on the first day of her 
 return home.
 
 CHAPTER YL 
 
 Tom Marjoeibanks arrived that night, according to 
 the Doctor's expectation. He arrived, with that curi- 
 ous want of adaptation to the circumstances which 
 characterised the young man, at an hour which put 
 Nancy entirely out, and upset the equanimity of the 
 kitchen for twenty-four hours at least. He came, if any 
 one can conceive of such an instance of carelessness, by 
 the nine o'clock train, just as they had finished putting 
 to rights down-stairs. After this. Miss Marjoribanks's 
 conclusion, that the fact of the Carlingford assizes oc- 
 curring a day or two after her arrival, when as yet she 
 was not fully prepared to take advantage of them, was 
 so like Tom, may be partially understood. And of 
 course he was furiously hungry, and could have man- 
 aged perfectly to be in time for dinner if he had 
 not missed the train at Didcot Junction, by some 
 wonderful blunder of the railway people, which never 
 could have occurred but for his unlucky presence
 
 MISS MAIUORIBANKS. 73 
 
 among the passengers. Lucilla took Thomas apart, 
 and sent him down-stairs with the most conciliatory- 
 message. " Tell Nancy not to put herself about, but to 
 send up something cold — the cold pie, or anything she 
 can find handy. Tell her I am so vexed, but it is just 
 like Mr Tom ; and he never knows what he is eating," 
 said Miss Marjoribanks. As for Nancy, this sweetness 
 did not subdue her in the least. She said, " I'll thank 
 Miss Lucilla to mind her own business. The cold pie 
 is for master's breakfast. I ain't such a goose as not 
 to know what to send up-stairs, and that Tummas can 
 tell her if he likes." In the mean time the Doctor was 
 in the drawing-room, much ao;ainst his will, with the 
 two young people, spinning about the room, and look- 
 ing at Lucilla's books and knick-knacks on the tables 
 by way of covering his impatience. He wanted to 
 carry off Tom, who was rather a favourite, to his own 
 den down-stairs, where the young man's supper was 
 to be served ; but, at the same time, Dr Marjoribanks 
 could not deny that Lucilla had a right to the greet- 
 ings and homage of her cousin. He could not help 
 thinking, on the whole, as he looked at the two, what 
 a much more sensible arrangement it would have been 
 if he had had the boy, instead of his sister, who had 
 been a widow for ever so long, and no doubt had spoiled 
 her son, as women always do ; and then Lucilla might 
 have passed under the sway of Mrs Marjoribanks, who
 
 74 CHRONICLES OF CARLINGFORD : 
 
 no doubt would have known how to manage her. Thus 
 the Doctor mused, with that sense of mild amazement 
 at the blunders of Providence, which so many people 
 experience, and without any idea that Mrs Marjori- 
 banks would have found a task a great deal beyond 
 her powers in the management of Lucilla. As for 
 Tom, he was horribly hungry, having found, as was to 
 be expected, no possible means of lunching at Didcot ; 
 but, at the same time, he was exhilarated by Lucilla's 
 smile, and delighted to think of having a week at least 
 to spend in her society. " I don't think I ever saw 
 you looking so well," he was saying ; " and you know 
 my opinion generally on that subject." To which 
 Lucilla responded in a way to wither all the germs of 
 sentiment in the bud. 
 
 " What subject V she said ; " my looks ? I am sure 
 they can't be interesting to you. You are as hungry 
 as ever you can be, and I can see it in your eyes. 
 Papa, he is famishing, and I don't think he can contain 
 himself any longer. Do take him down-stairs, and let 
 him have something to eat. For myself," Lucilla con- 
 tinued, in a lower tone, '' it is my duty that keeps me 
 up. You know it has always been the object of my 
 life to be a comfort to papa." 
 
 " Come along, Tom," said the Doctor. " Don't waste 
 your time philandering when your supper is ready." 
 And Dr Marjoribanks led the way down-stairs, leaving
 
 ]\IISS MARJORIBANKS. 75 
 
 Tom, who followed him, in a state of great curiosity to 
 know what secret oppression it might be under which 
 his cousin was supported by her duty. Naturally his 
 thoughts reverted to a possible rival — some one whom 
 the sensible Doctor would have nothing to say to ; and 
 his very ears grew red with excitement at this idea. 
 But, notwithstanding, he ate a very satisfactory meal 
 in the library, where he had to answer all sorts of 
 questions. Tom had his tray at the end of the table, 
 and the Doctor, who had, according to his hospitable 
 old-fashioned habit, taken a glass of claret to " keep 
 him company," sat in his easy-chair between the fire 
 and the table, and sipped his wine, and admired its 
 colour and purity in the light, and watched with satis- 
 faction the excellent meal his nephew was making. 
 He asked him all about his prospects, and what he was 
 doing, which Tom replied to with the frankest confidence. 
 He was not very fond of work, nor were his abilities 
 anything out of the common ; but at the present mo- 
 ment Tom saw no reason why he should not gain the 
 Woolsack in time ; and Dr Marjoribanks gave some- 
 thino- like a sio;h as he listened, and wondered much 
 what Providence could be thinking of not to give him 
 the boy. 
 
 Lucilla meantime was very much occupied up-stairs. 
 She had the new housemaid up nominally to give her 
 instructions about Mr Tom's room, but really to take
 
 76 CHRONICLES OF CARLTNGFORD : 
 
 the covers off the chairs, and see how they looked 
 when the room was lighted up ; but the progress of 
 decay had gone too far to stand that trial. After all, 
 the chintz, though none of the freshest, was the best. 
 When the gentlemen came up-stairs, which Tom, to 
 the Doctor's disgust, insisted on doing, Lucilla was 
 found in the act of pacing the room — pacing, not in 
 the sentimental sense of making a little promenade up 
 and down, but in the homely practical signification, 
 with a view of measuring, that she might form an idea 
 how much carpet was required. Lucilla was tall 
 enough to go through this process without any great 
 drawback in point of grace — the long step giving 
 rather a tragedy-queen effect to her handsome but sub- 
 stantial person and long, sweeping dress. She stopped 
 short, however, when she saw them, and withdrew to 
 the sofa, on which she had established her throne ; and 
 there was a little air of conscious pathos on her face as 
 she sat down, which impressed her companions. As 
 for Tom, he instinctively felt that it must have some- 
 thing to do with that mystery under which Lucilla was 
 supported by her duty ; and the irrelevant young man 
 conceived immediately a violent desire to knock the 
 fellow down ; whereas there was no fellow at all in the 
 case, unless it might be Mr Holden, the upholsterer, 
 whose visits Miss Maijoribanks would have received 
 with greater enthusiasm at this moment than those of
 
 MISS MARJOEIBANKS. 77 
 
 the most elmble eldest son in England. And then she 
 gave a little pathetic sigh. 
 
 " What were you doing, Lucilla ? " said her father, — 
 " rehearsing Lady Macbeth, I suppose. At least you 
 looked exactly like it when we came into the room." 
 
 " No, papa," said Lucilla, sweetly ; " I was only 
 measuring to see how much carpet we should want ; 
 and that, you know, and Tom's coming, made me think 
 of old times. You are so much down-stairs in the 
 library that you don't feel it ; but a lady has to spend 
 her life in the drawing-room — and then I always was 
 so domestic. It does not matter what is outside, I 
 always find my pleasure at home. I cannot help if it 
 has a little effect on my spirits now and then," said 
 Miss Marjoribanks, looking down upon her handker- 
 chief, " to be always surrounded with things that have 
 such associations " 
 
 " What associations ? " said the amazed Doctor. To 
 be sure, he had not forgotten his wife ; but it was four 
 years ago, and he had got used to her absence from her 
 favourite sofa ; and, on the whole, in that particular, 
 had acquiesced in the arrangements of Providence. 
 " Eeally, Lucilla, I don't know what you mean." 
 
 " No, papa," said Miss Marjoribanks, with resigna- 
 tion. " I know you don't, and that is what makes it 
 so sad. But talking of new carpets, you know, I had 
 such an adventure to-day that I must tell you — quite
 
 78 CHRONICLES OF CAELIXGFOED : 
 
 one of ony adventures — the very luckiest thing. It 
 happened when I was out walking ; I heard a voice 
 out of a house in Grove Street, just the very thing to 
 go with my voice. That is not a thing that happens 
 every day/' said Lucilla, " for all the masters have 
 always told me that my voice was something quite by 
 itself. When I heard it, though it was in Grove Street, 
 and all the peojDle about, I could have danced for joy." 
 
 " It was a man's voice, I suppose," suggested Tom 
 Marjoribanks, in'gloomy tones ; and the Doctor added, 
 in his cynical way — 
 
 " It's a wonderful advantage to be so pleased about 
 trifles. What number was it ? For my part, I have 
 not many patients in Grove Street," said Dr Marjori- 
 banks. " I would find a voice to suit you in another 
 quarter, if I were you." 
 
 " Dear papa, it's such a pity that you don't under- 
 stand," said Lucilla, compassionately. " It turned out 
 to be Barbara Lake ; for, of course, I went in directly, 
 and found out. I never heard a voice that went so 
 well with mine." If Miss Marjoribanks did not go 
 into raptures over the contralto on its own merits, it 
 was not from any jealousy, of which, indeed, she was 
 incapable, but simply because its adaptation to her 
 own seemed to her by far its most interesting quality, 
 and indeed almost the sole claim it had to considera- 
 tion from the world.
 
 MISS MARJOEIBANKS. 79 
 
 " Barbara Lake ?" said the Doctor. " There's some- 
 thing in that. If you can do her any good, or get her 
 teaching or anything — I have a regard for poor Lake, 
 poor little fellow ! He's kept up wonderfully since his 
 wife died; and nobody expected it of him," Dr Mar- 
 joribanks continued, with a momentary dreary recollec- 
 tion of the time when the poor woman took farewell of 
 her children, which indeed was the next day after that 
 on which his own wife, who had nobody in particular 
 to take farewell of, faded out of her useless life. 
 
 " Yes," said Lucilla, " I mean her to come here and 
 sing with me ; but, then, one needs to organise a little 
 first. I am nineteen — how long is it since you were 
 married, papa ? " 
 
 " Two-and-twenty years," said the Doctor, abruptly. 
 He did not observe the strangeness of the question, 
 because he had been thinking for the moment of his 
 wife, and perhaps his face was a trifle graver than 
 usual, though neither of his young companions thought 
 of remarking it. To be sure he was not a young man 
 even when he married ; but, on the whole, perhaps 
 something more than this perfect comfort and respect- 
 ability, and those nice little dinners, had seemed to 
 shine on his horizon when he brought home his 
 incapable bride. 
 
 "Two-and-twenty years!" exclaimed Lucilla. "I 
 don't mind talking before Tom, for he is one of the
 
 80 CHRONICLES OF CARLINGFORD : 
 
 family. The things are all the same as they were 
 when mamma came home, though, I am sure, nobody 
 would believe it. I think it is going against Provi- 
 dence, for my part. Nothing was ever intended to 
 last so long, except the things the Jews, poor souls ! 
 wore in the desert, perhaps. Papa, if you have no 
 objection, I should like to choose the colours myself 
 There is a great deal in choosing colours that go well 
 with one's complexion. People think of that for their 
 dresses, but not for their rooms, which are of so much 
 more importance. I should have liked blue, but blue 
 gets so soon tawdry. I think," said Miss Marjori- 
 banks, rising and looking at herself seriously in the 
 glass, " that I have enough comj)lexion at present to 
 venture upon a pale spring green." 
 
 This little calculation, which a timid young woman 
 would have taken care to do by herself, Lucilla did 
 publicly, with her usual discrimination. The Doctor, 
 who had looked a little grim at first, could not but 
 laugh when he saw the sober look of care and thought 
 with which Miss Marjoribanks examined her capabili- 
 ties in the glass. It was not so much the action itself 
 that amused her father, as the consummate ability of 
 the young revolutionary. Dr Marjoribanks was Scotch, 
 and had a respect for " talent '' in every development, 
 as is natural to his nation. He did not even give his 
 daughter that credit for sincerity which she deserved,
 
 MISS MARJOEIBANKS. 81 
 
 but set it all to the score of her genius, which was com- 
 plimentary, certainly, in one point of view; but the 
 fact was tliat Lucilla was perfectly sincere, and that 
 she did what was natural to her under guidance of her 
 genius, so as always to be in good fortune, just as Tom 
 Marjoribauks, uuder the guidance of his, brought dis- 
 credit even upon those eternal ordinances of English 
 government which fixed the time of the Carlingford 
 assizes. Lucilla was quite in earnest in thinking that 
 the colour of the drawing-room was an important mat- 
 ter, and that a woman of sense had very good reason 
 for suiting it to her complexion — an idea which ac- 
 cordingly she proceeded to develop and explain. 
 
 " For one can change one's dress," said Miss Mar- 
 joribauks, " as often as one likes — at least as often, 
 you know, as one has dresses to change ; but the furni- 
 ture remains the same. I am always a perfect guy, 
 whatever I wear, when I sit against a red curtain. 
 You men say that a woman always knows when she's 
 good-looking, but I am happy to say / know when I 
 look a guy. AVhat I mean is a delicate pale-green, 
 papa. For my part, I think it wears just as well as 
 any other colour ; and all tlie painters say it is the 
 very thing for pictures. The carpet, of course, would 
 be a darker shade ; and as for the chairs, it is not at 
 all necessary to keep to one colour. Both red and 
 violet go beautifully with green, you know. I am sure 
 
 VOL. I. F
 
 82 CHRONICLES OF CARLINGFOED : 
 
 Mr Holden and I could settle aU about it without giv- 
 ing you any trouble." 
 
 " Who told you, Lucilla/' said the Doctor, " that I 
 meant to refurnish the house ? " He was even a little 
 angry at her boldness, but at the same time he was so 
 much amused and pleased in his heart to have so clever 
 a daughter, that all the tones that could produce terror 
 were softened out of his voice. '' I never heard that 
 was a sort of thing that a man had to do for his 
 daughter," said Dr Marjoribanks ; " and I would like 
 to know what I should do with all that finery when 
 you get married — as I suppose you will by-and-by — 
 and leave me alone in the house ? " 
 
 " Ah, that is the important question," said Tom. 
 As usual, it was Tom's luck ; but then, when there 
 did happen to be a moment when he ought to be 
 silent, the unfortunate fellow could not help but speak. 
 
 " Perhaps I may marry some time," said Miss Mar- 
 joribanks, with composure ; "it would be foolish, you 
 know, to make any engagements; but that will depend 
 greatly upon how you behave, and how Carlingford 
 behaves, papa. I give myself ten years here, if you 
 should be very good. By twenty-nine I shall be going 
 off a little, and perhaps it may be tiring, for anything 
 I can tell. Ten years is a long time, and naturally, in 
 the mean time, I want to look as well as possible. 
 Stop a minute ; I forgot to put down the number of
 
 MISS MAEJOEIBANKS. 83 
 
 paces for the length. Tom, please to do it over again 
 for me ; of course, your steps are a great deal longer 
 than mine." 
 
 " Tom is tired," said the Doctor ; '' and there are no 
 new carpets coming out of my pockets. Besides, he's 
 going to bed, and I'm going down-stairs to the library. 
 "We may as well bid you good-night." 
 
 These words, however, were addressed to deaf ears. 
 Tom, as was natural, had started immediately to obey 
 Lucilla, as he was in duty bound ; and the old Doctor 
 looked on with a little amazement and a little amuse- 
 ment, recognising, with something of the surprise 
 which that discovery always gives to fathers and 
 mothers, that his visitor cared twenty times more for 
 what Lucilla said than for anything that his superior 
 wisdom could suggest. He would have gone oft' and 
 left them as a couple of young fools, if it had not 
 occurred to him all at once, that since this sort of 
 thing had begun, the last person in the world that he 
 would choose to see dancing attendance on his daugh- 
 ter was Tom Marjoribanks. Oddly enough, though he 
 had just been finding fault with Providence for not 
 giving him a son instead of a daughter, he was not at 
 all delighted nor grateful when Providence put before 
 him this simple method of providing himself with the 
 son he wanted. He took a great deal too much inte- 
 rest in Tom Marjoribanks to let him do anything so
 
 84 CHRONICLES OF CARLINGFOED : 
 
 foolish ; and as for Lucilla, the idea that, after all her 
 accomplishments, and her expensive education, and her 
 year on the Continent, she should marry a man who 
 had nothing, disgusted the Doctor. He kept his seat 
 accordingly, though he was horribly bored by the 
 drawing-room and its claims, and wanted very much 
 to return to the library, and get into his slippers and 
 his dressing-gown. It was rather a pretty jDicture, on 
 the whole, which he was regarding, Lucilla, perhaps, 
 with a view to this discussion, had put on green rib- 
 bons on the white dress which she always wore in the 
 evening, and her tawny curls and fresh complexion 
 carried off triumphantly that difficult colour. Perhaps 
 a critical observer might have said that her figure was 
 a little too developed and substantial for those vestal 
 robes ; but then Miss Marjoribanks was young, and 
 could bear it. She was standing by, not far from the 
 fire, on the other side from the Doctor, looking on 
 anxiously, while Tom measured the room with his 
 long steps. " I never said you were to stride," said 
 Lucilla ; " take moderate steps, and don't be so silly. 
 I was doing it myself famously if you had not come in 
 and interrupted me. It is frightful to belong to a 
 family where the men are so stupid," said Miss Mar- 
 joribanks, with a sigh of real distress; for, to be sure, 
 the unlucky Tom immediately bethought himself to 
 take small steps like those of a lady, which all but
 
 MISS MAEJOEIBANKS. 85 
 
 threw him on his well-formed though meaningless 
 nose. Lucilla shook her head with an exasperated 
 look, and contracted her lips with disdain, as he passed 
 her on his ill-omened career. Of course he came right 
 up against the little table on which she had with her 
 own hand arranged a bouquet of geraniums and mign- 
 onette. " It is what he always does," she said to the 
 Doctor, calmly, as Tom arrived at that climax of his 
 fate ; and the look with which she accompanied these 
 words, as she rang the bell smartly and promptly, 
 mollified the Doctor's heart. 
 
 " I can tell you the size of the room, if that is all 
 you want," said Dr Marjoribanks. "I suppose you 
 mean to give parties, and drive me out of my senses 
 with dancing and singing. — N'o, Lucilla, you must 
 wait till you get married — that will never do for me." 
 
 " Dear papa," said Lucilla, sweetly, " it is so dread- 
 ful to hear you say parties. Everybody knows that 
 the only thing I care for in life is to be a comfort to 
 you ; and as for dancing, I saw at once that was out 
 of the question. Dancing is all very well," said Miss 
 Marjoribanks, thoughtfully; "but it implies quantities 
 of young people — and young people can never make 
 what I call society. It is Evenings I mean to have, 
 papa. I am sure you want to go down-stairs, and I 
 suppose Tom would think it civil to sit with me, 
 though he is tired; so I will show you a good ex-
 
 86 CHRONICLES OF CAELINGFORD : 
 
 ample, and Thomas can pick up the table and the 
 flowers at his leisure. Good-night, papa," said Lucilla, 
 giving him her round fresh cheek to kiss. She went 
 out of the room with a certain triumph, feeling that 
 she had fully signified her intentions, which is always 
 an important matter ; and shook hands in a conde- 
 scending way with Tom, who had broken his shins in 
 a headlong rush to open the door. She looked at him 
 with an expression of mild despair, and shook her 
 head again as she accorded him that sign of amity. 
 " If you only would look a little where you are going," 
 said Miss Marjoribanks; — perhaps she meant the 
 words to convey an allegorical as well as a positive 
 meaning, as so many people have been found out to 
 do — and then she pursued her peaceful way up-stairs. 
 As for the Doctor, he went off" to his library rubbing 
 his hands, glad to be released, and laughing softly at 
 his nephew's abashed looks. " She knows how to put 
 Mm down at least," the Doctor said to himself, w^ell 
 pleased ; and he was so much amused by his daugh- 
 ter's superiority to the vulgar festivity of parties, that 
 he almost gave in to the idea of refurnishing the draw- 
 ing-room to suit Lucilla's complexion. He rubbed his 
 hands once more over the fire, and indulged in a little 
 laugh all by himself over that original idea. " So it 
 is Evenings she means to have ? " said the Doctor ; 
 and, to be sure, nothing could be more faded than the
 
 MISS MAEJOKIBANKS. 87 
 
 curtains, and there were bits of the carpet in which 
 tlie pattern was scarcely discernible. So that, on the 
 whole, np to this point there seemed to be a reasonable 
 prospect that Lucilla would have everything her own 
 way.
 
 CHAPTEE VII. 
 
 Miss Mae joeib axes had . so many things to think of 
 next morning that she found her cousin, who was 
 rather difficult to get rid of, much in her way : natu- 
 rally the young man was briefless, and came on circuit 
 for the name of the thing, and was quite disposed to 
 dawdle the first morning, and attach himself to the 
 active footsteps of Lucilla ; and for her part, she had 
 things to occupy her so very much more important. 
 For one thing, one of Dr Marjoribanks's little dinner- 
 parties was to take place that evening, which would be 
 the first under the new regime, and was naturally a 
 matter of some anxiety to all parties. "I shall go 
 down and ask Mrs Chiley to Qpme with the Colonel," 
 said Lucilla. '' I have always meant to do that. We 
 can't have a full dinner-party, you know, as long as 
 the house is so shabby ; but I am sure Mrs Chiley 
 will come to take care of me." 
 
 " To take care of you ! — in your father's house ! Do
 
 MISS MARJORIBANKS. 89 
 
 you think they'll bite ? " said the Doctor, grimly ; but 
 as for Lucilla, she was quite prepared for that. 
 
 " I must have a chaperoue, you know/' she said. 
 " I don't say it is not quite absurd ; but then, at first, 
 I always make it a point to give in to the prejudices 
 of society. That is how I have always been so suc- 
 cessful," said the experienced Lucilla. "I never went 
 in the face of anybody's prejudices. Afterwards, you 
 
 know, when one is known " 
 
 The Doctor laughed, but at the same time he 
 sighed. There was nothing to be said against Mrs 
 Chiley, who had, on the whole, as women go, a very 
 superior training, and knew what a good dinner was ; 
 but it was the beginning of the revolution of which 
 Dr Marjoribanks, vaguely oppressed with the idea of 
 new paper, new curtains, and all that was involved in 
 the entrance of Mr Holden the upholsterer into the 
 house, did not see the end. He acquiesced, of course, 
 since there was nothing else for it ; but it must be 
 confessed that the spectre of Mrs Chiley sitting at his 
 right hand clouded over for the Doctor the pleasant 
 anticipation of the evening. If it had been possible to 
 put her at the head of the table beside Lucilla, whom 
 she was to come to take care of, he could have borne 
 it better — and to be sure it would have been a great 
 deal more reasonable ; but then that was absolutely 
 out of the question, and the Doctor gave in with a
 
 90 CHRONICLES OF CAHLINGFORD : 
 
 sigh. Thus it was that he began to realise the more 
 serious result of that semi-abdication into which he 
 had been beguiled. The female element, so long peace- 
 fully ignored and kept at a distance, had come in again 
 in triumph and taken possession, and the Doctor knew 
 too well by the experience of a long life what a restless 
 and troublesome element it was. He had begun to 
 feel that it had ceased to be precisely amusing as he 
 took his place in his brougham. It was good sport to 
 see Lucilla make an end of Tom, and put her bridle 
 upon the stiff neck of Nancy ; but when it came to 
 changing the character of the Doctor's dinners, his in- 
 tellect naturally got more obtuse, and he did not see 
 the joke. 
 
 As for Tom, he had to be disposed of summarily. 
 " Do go away," Miss Marjoribanks said, in her straight- 
 forward way. " You can come back to luncheon if you 
 like ; — that is to say, if you can pick up anybody that 
 is very amusing, you may bring him here about half- 
 past one, and if any of my friends have come to call 
 by that time, I will give you lunch ; but it must be 
 somebody very amusing, or I will have nothing to say 
 to you," said Lucilla. And with this dismissal Tom 
 Marjoribanks departed, not more content than the 
 Doctor ; for, to be sure, the last thing in the world 
 which the poor fellow thought of was to bring some- 
 body who was very amusing, to injure his chances
 
 MISS MARJOEIBANKS. 91 
 
 with Lucilla. Tom, like most other people, was utterly 
 incapable of fathoming the grand conception which in- 
 spired Miss Marjoribanks. When she told him that it 
 was the object of her life to be a comfort to papa, he 
 believed it to a certain extent ; but it never occurred 
 to him that that filial devotion, though beautiful to 
 contemplate, would preserve Lucilla's heart from the 
 ordinary dangers of youth, or that she was at all in 
 earnest in postponing all matrimonial intentions until 
 she was nine-and-twenty, and had begun to "go off" 
 a little. So he went away disconsolate enough, waver- 
 ing between his instinct of obedience and his desire of 
 being in Lucilla's company, and a desperate determin- 
 ation never to be the means of injuring himself by 
 presenting to her anybody who was very amusing. All 
 Miss Marjoribanks's moncle, as it happened, was a little 
 out of humour that day. She had gone on so far tri- 
 umphantly that it had now come to be necessary that 
 she should receive a little check in her victorious 
 career. 
 
 When Tom was disposed of. Miss Marjoribanks put 
 on her hat and went down Grange Lane to carry her 
 invitation to Mrs Chiley, who naturally was very much 
 l^leased to come. " But, my dear, you must tell me 
 what to put on," the old lady said. " I don't think I 
 have had anything new since you were home last. I 
 have heard so much about Dr Marjoribanks's dinners
 
 92 CHRONICLES OF CARLINGFORD : 
 
 that I feel a little excited, as if I was going to be 
 made a freemason or something. There is my brown, 
 you know, that I wear at home when we have anybody 
 — and my black velvet ; and then there is my French 
 grey that I got for Mary Chiley's marriage/' 
 
 " Dear Mrs Chiley/' said Lucilla, '' it doesn't matter 
 in the least what you wear ; there are only to be gen- 
 tlemen, you know, and one never dresses for gentlemen. 
 You must keep that beautiful black velvet for another 
 time." 
 
 ''■ Well, my dear," said Mrs Chiley, " / am long past 
 that sort of thing — but the men think, you know, that 
 it is always for them we dress." 
 
 "Yes," said Miss Marjoribanks, "their vanity is 
 something dreadful — but it is one of my principles 
 never to dress unless there are ladies. A white frock, 
 high in the neck," said Lucilla, with sweet simplicity 
 — " as for anything else, it would be bad style." 
 
 Mrs Chiley gave her young visitor a very cordial 
 kiss when she went away. " The sense she has !" said 
 the old lady ; but at the same time the Colonel's wife 
 was so old-fashioned that this contemptuous way of 
 treating " The Gentlemen " puzzled her unprogressive 
 intelligence. She thought it was superhuman virtue 
 on Lucilla's part, nearly incredible, and yet established 
 by proofs so incontestable that it would be a shame to 
 doubt it ; and she felt ashamed of herself — she who
 
 MISS MARJOEIBANKS. 93 
 
 might have been a grandmother, had such been the 
 will of Providence — for lingering five minutes unde- 
 cided between her two best caps. " I daresay Lucilla 
 does not spend so much time on such vanity, and she 
 only nineteen," said the penitent old lady. As for Miss 
 Marjoribanks, she returned up Grange Lane with a 
 mind at ease, and that consciousness of superior endow- 
 ments which gives amiability and expansion even to 
 the countenance. She did not give any money to the 
 beggar who at that period infested Grange Lane with 
 her six children, for that was contrary to those prin- 
 ciples of political economy which she had studied with 
 such success at Mount Pleasant ; but she stopped and 
 asked her name, and where she lived, and promised to 
 inquire into her case. " If you are honest and want to 
 work, I will try to find you something to do," said 
 Miss ^larjoribanks ; which, to be sure, was a threat 
 appalling enough to keep her free from any further 
 molestation on the part of that interesting family. 
 But Lucilla, to do her justice, felt it equally natural 
 that beneficence should issue from her in this manner 
 as in that other mode of feeding the hungry which she 
 was willing to adopt at half-past one, and had solemnly 
 engaged herself to fulfil at seven o'clock. She went up 
 after that to ^Ir Holden's, and had a most interesting 
 conversation, and found among his stores a delicious 
 damask, softly, spiritually green, of which, to his great
 
 94 CHEONICLES OF CARLINGFORD : 
 
 astonishment, she tried the effect in one of the great 
 mirrors which ornamented the shop. " It is just the 
 tint I want/' Lucilla said, when she had applied that 
 unusual test ; and she left the fashionable upholsterer 
 of Carlingford in a state of some uncertainty whether 
 it was curtains or dresses that Miss Marjoribanks 
 meant to have made. 
 
 Perhaps this confusion arose from the fact that 
 Lucilla's mind was occupied in discussing the question 
 whether she should not go round by Grove Street, and 
 try that duet again with Barbara, and invite her to 
 Grange Lane in the evening to electrify the little com- 
 pany ; or whether, in case this latter idea might not 
 be practicable, she should bring Barbara with her to 
 lunch by way of occupying Tom Marjoribanks. Lu- 
 cilla stood at Mr Holden's door for five seconds at 
 least balancing the matter ; but finally she gave her 
 curls a little shake, and took a quick step forward, and 
 without any more deliberation returned towards Grange 
 Lane ; for, on the whole, it was better not to burst in 
 full triumph all at once upon her constituency, and 
 exhaust her forces at the beginning. If she conde- 
 scended to sing something herself, it would indeed be 
 a greater honour than her father's dinner-party, in 
 strict justice, was entitled to ; and as for the second 
 question, though Miss Marjoribanks was too happy in 
 the confidence of her own powers to fear any rivals.
 
 MISS MAEJORIBANKS. 95 
 
 and though her cousin's devotion bored her, still she 
 felt doubtful how far it was good policy to produce 
 Barbara at luncheon for the purpose of occupying 
 Tom. Other people might see her besides Tom, and 
 her own grand coup might be forestalled for anything 
 she could tell ; and then Tom had some title to consi- 
 deration on his own merits, though he was the unlucky 
 member of the family. He might even, if he were so 
 far left to himself (though Miss Marjoribanks smiled 
 at the idea) fall in love with Barbara ; or, what was 
 more likely, driven to despair by Lucilla's indifference, 
 he might pretend to fall in love ; and Lucilla reflected, 
 that if anything happened she could never forgive her- 
 self. This was the point she had arrived at when she 
 shook her tawny curls and set out suddenly on her 
 return home. 
 
 It was now nearly one o'clock, and it was quite pos- 
 sible that Tom, as well as herself, might be on the way 
 to Grange Lane ; but Lucilla, who, as she said, made 
 a point of never going against the prejudices of society, 
 made up her mind to remain sweetly unconscious of 
 the hour of luncheon, unless some lady came to keep 
 her company. But then Miss Marjoribanks was al- 
 ways lucky, as she said. A quarter of an hour before 
 Tom applied for admission. Miss Bury came to pay 
 Lucilla a visit. She had been visiting in her district all 
 the morning, and was very easily persuaded to repose
 
 96 CHRONICLES OF CARLINGFOED : 
 
 herself a little ; and then, naturally, she was anxious 
 about her young friend's spiritual condition, and the 
 effect upon her mind of a year's residence abroad. She 
 was asking whether Lucilla had not seen something 
 soul-degrading and dishonouring to religion in all the 
 mummeries of Popery ; and Miss Marjoribanks, who 
 was perfectly orthodox, had replied to the question in 
 the most satisfactory manner ; when Tom made his 
 appearance, looking rather sheepish and reluctant, and 
 followed by the " somebody amusing " whom Lucilla 
 had commissioned him to bring. He had struggled 
 against his fate, poor fellow ! but when it happens to 
 be a man's instinct to do what he is told, he can no 
 more resist it than if it was a criminal impulse. Tom 
 entered with his amusing companion, who had been 
 chosen with care, and was very uninviting to look at ; 
 and by-and-by Miss Bury, with the most puzzled looks 
 found herself listening to gossip about the theatres and 
 all kinds of profane subjects. " I think they are going 
 to hang that fellow that killed the tailor," said the 
 amusing man ; "that will stir you up a little in Carling- 
 ford, I should suppose. It is as good as a play for a 
 country town. Of course, there will be a party that 
 will get up a memorial, and prove that a man so kind- 
 hearted never existed out of paradise ; and there will 
 be another party who will prove him to be insane ; 
 and then at the end all the blackguards within a hun-
 
 MISS JNIARJORIBANKS. 97 
 
 dred miles will crowd into Carlingford, and the fellow 
 will be hanged, as he deserves to be ; but I assure you 
 it's a famous amusement for a country town." 
 
 " Sir," said Miss Bury, with a tremulous voice, for 
 her feelings had overcome her, " when you speak of 
 amusement, does it ever occur to you what will become 
 of his miserable soul ? " 
 
 " I assure you, wretches of that description have no 
 souls," said the young barrister, " or else, of course, I 
 would not permit myself to speak so freely. It is a 
 conclusion I have come to not rashly, but after many 
 opportunities of observing," the young man went on 
 with solemnity; "on the whole, my opinion is, that 
 this is the great difference between one portion of 
 mankind and the other : that description of being, you 
 may take my word for it, has no soul." 
 
 " I never take anybody's word for what is so plainly 
 stated in the Holy Scriptures," said Miss Bury ; " I 
 never heard any one utter such a terrible idea. I am 
 sure I don't want to defend a — a murderer," cried the 
 Rector's sister, with agitation ; " but I have heard of 
 persons in that unfortunate position coming to a heav- 
 enly frame of mind, and giving every evidence of being 
 truly converted. The law may take their lives, but it 
 is an awful thing — a truly dreadful thing," said Miss 
 Bury, trembling all over, " to try to take away their 
 soul." 
 
 VOL. I. G
 
 98 CHEONICLES OF CAELINGFOED : 
 
 " Oh, nonsense, Lucilla. By Jove ! he does not mean 
 that, you know," said Tom, interposing to relieve his 
 friend, 
 
 " Do you believe in Jove, Mr Thomas Marjoribanks?" 
 said Miss Bury, looking him in an alarming manner 
 full in the face. 
 
 The unfortunate Tom grew red and then he grew 
 green under this question and that awful look. " No, 
 Miss Bury, I can't say I do," he answered, humbly ; 
 and the amusing man was so much less brotherly than 
 Tom that he burst into unsympathetic laughter. As 
 for Lucilla, it was the first real check she had sustained 
 in the beginning of her career. There could not have 
 been a more unfortunate contretemps, and there is no 
 telling how disastrous the efiect might have been, had 
 not her courage and coolness, not to say her orthodoxy, 
 been equal to the occasion. She gave her cousin a 
 look which was still more terrible than Miss Bury's, 
 and then she took affairs into her own hands. 
 
 " It is dreadful sometimes to see what straits people 
 are put to, to keep up the conversation," said Lucilla ; 
 " Tom in particular, for I think he has a pleasure in 
 talking nonsense. But you must not suppose I am of 
 that opinion. I remember quite well there was a 
 dreadful man once here in jail for something, and Mr 
 Bury made him the most beautiful character ! Every 
 creature has a soul. I am sure we say so in the Creed
 
 MISS MARJORIBANKS. 9.9 
 
 every day of our lives, and especially in that long creed 
 where so many people perish everlastingly. So far 
 from laughing, it is quite dreadful to think of it," said 
 Lucilla. " It is one of my principles never to laugh 
 about anything that has to do with religion. I always 
 think it my duty to speak with respect. It has such a 
 bad efiect upon some minds. Miss Bury, if you will not 
 take anything more, I think we had better go up-stairs." 
 
 To think that Tom, whose luck, as usual, had be- 
 trayed him to such an unlooked-for extent, should 
 have been on the point of following to the drawing- 
 room, was more than Miss Marjoribanks could com- 
 prehend; but fortunately his companion had more 
 sense, and took his leave, taking his conductor with 
 him. Miss Bury went up -stairs in silence, sighing 
 heavily from time to time. The good woman was 
 troubled in her spirit at the evident depravity of the 
 young men with whom circumstances had constrained 
 her to sit down at table, and she was sadly afraid that 
 such companionship must have a debasing effect upon 
 the mind of that lamb of the flock who was now 
 standing before her. Miss Bury bethought herself of 
 Dr Marjoribanks's profane jokes, and the indifference 
 he had shown to many things in which it was his 
 duty to have interested himself, and she could not but 
 look with tender pity in her young friend's face. 
 
 " Poor dear," said Miss Bury, " it is dreadful indeed
 
 100 CHRONICLES OF CAELINGFOED : 
 
 if this is the sort of society you are subjected to. I 
 could recommend to Dr Marjoribanks a most admir- 
 able woman, a true Christian, who would take charge 
 of things and be your companion, Lucilla. It is not 
 at all nice for you, at your age, to be obliged to re- 
 ceive young men like these alone." 
 
 "I had you !" said Lucilla, taking both Miss Bury's 
 hands. '' I felt it was such a blessing. I would not 
 have let Tom stay for luncheon if you had not been 
 there ; and now I am so glad, because it has shown 
 me the danger of letting him bring people. I am 
 quite sure it was a special providence that made you 
 think of coming here to-day." 
 
 " Well, my dear," said Miss Bury, who was natur- 
 ally mollified by this statement of the question, "I 
 am very glad to have been of use to you. If there is 
 anything I desire in this Life, it is to be useful to my 
 fellow-creatures, and to do my work while it is called 
 day. I should not think the time lost, my dear 
 Lucilla, if I could only hope that I had impressed 
 upon your miud that an account must be given of 
 every careless word " 
 
 " Oh, yes," said LuciUa, " that is so true ; and be- 
 sides, it is quite against my principles. I make it a 
 point never to speak of anything about religion except 
 with the greatest respect ; and I am quite sure it was 
 a special providence that I had you."
 
 MISS MAEJOEIBANKS. 101 
 
 Miss Bury took her farewell very affectionately, nob 
 to say effusively, after this, with her heart melting 
 over the ingenuous young creature who was so thank- 
 ful for her protection ; but at the same time she left 
 Miss Maijoribanks a prey to the horrible sensation of 
 having made a failure. To be sure, there was time to 
 recover herself in the evening, which was, so to speak, 
 her first formal appearance before the public of Car- 
 lingford. Tom was so ill-advised as to come in when 
 she was having her cup of tea before dinner to fortify 
 her for her exertions ; and the reception he met with 
 may be left to the imagination. But, after all, there 
 was little satisfaction in demolishing Tom ; and then 
 Lucilla had known from the beginning that the 
 success of her undertaking depended entirely on 
 herself
 
 CHAPTER YIIL 
 
 The evening passed off in a way which, if Miss Mar- 
 joribanks had been an ordinary woman, would have 
 altogether obliterated from her mind all recollection of 
 the failure at lunch. To speak first of the most im- 
 portant particular, the dinner was perfect. As for the 
 benighted men who had doubted Lucilla, they were 
 covered with shame, and, at the same time, with 
 delight. If there had been a fault in Dr Marjori- 
 banks's table under the ancient regime, it lay in a 
 certain want of variety, and occasional over-abun- 
 dance, which wounded the feelings of young Mr 
 Cavendish, who was a person of refinement. To-night, 
 as that accomplished critic remarked, there was a 
 certain air of feminine grace difiused over everything — 
 and an amount of doubt and expectation, unknown to 
 the composed feastings of old, gave interest to the 
 meal. As for the Doctor, he found Mrs Chiley, at 
 his right hand, not so great a bore as he expected.
 
 MISS MAEJORIBANKS. 103 
 
 She was a woman capable of appreciating the triumphs 
 of art that were set before her ; and had indeed been 
 trained to as high a pitch of culture in this respect as 
 perhaps is possible to the female intelligence ; and 
 then her pride and delight in being admitted to a 
 participation in those sacred mysteries was beyond 
 expression. " My dear Lucilla, I feel exactly as if I 
 was going to be made a freemason ; and as if your 
 dear good papa had to blindfold me, and make me 
 swear all sorts of things before he took me down- 
 stairs/' she said, as they sat together waiting for the 
 commencement of the ceremony ; and when the two 
 ladies returned to the drawing-room, Mrs Chiley took 
 Lucilla in her arms and gave her a kiss, as the only way 
 of expressing adequately her enthusiasm. " My love," 
 said the Colonel's wife, " I never realised before what 
 it was to have a genius. You should be very thankful 
 to Providence for giving you such a gift. I have given 
 dinners all my life — that is, all my married life, my dear, 
 which comes to almost the same thing, for I was only 
 a baby — but I never could come up to anything like 
 that," said Mrs Chiley, with tears in her eyes. As for 
 Miss ^Marjoribanks, she was so satisfied with her success 
 that she felt at liberty to tranquillise her old friend. 
 
 " I am sure you always give very nice dinners," she 
 said; "and then, you know, the Colonel has his 
 favourite dishes — whereas, I must say for papa, he is
 
 104 CHRONICLES OF CARLINGFOED ; 
 
 very reasonable for a man. I am so glad you are 
 pleased. It is very kind of you to say it is genius, 
 but I don't pretend to anything but paying great 
 attention and studying the combinations. There is 
 nothing one cannot manage if one only takes the 
 trouble. Come here to this nice easy-chair — it is so 
 comfortable. It is so nice to have a little moment to 
 ourselves before they come up-stairs/' 
 
 " That is what I always say," said Mrs Chiley ; 
 "but there are not many girls so sensible as you, 
 Lucilla. I hear them all saying it is so much better 
 French fashion. Of course, I am an old woman, and 
 like things in the old style." 
 
 " I don't think it is because I am more sensible,"" 
 said Miss Marjoribanks, with modesty. " I don't pre- 
 tend to be better than other people. It is because I 
 have thought it all over, you know — and then I went 
 through a course of political economy when I was 
 at Mount Pleasant," Lucilla said, tranquilly, with an 
 air of having explained the whole matter, which 
 much impressed her hearer. " But for all that, some- 
 thing dreadful happened to-day. Tom brought in one 
 of his friends with him, you know, and Miss Bury 
 was here, and they talked — I want to tell you, in case 
 she should say something, and then you will know 
 what to believe. I never felt so dreadfully ashamed 
 in my life — they talked "
 
 MISS MAEJORIBANKS. 105 
 
 " My dear ! not anything improper, I hope/' cried 
 the old lady, in dismay. 
 
 " Oh, no," said Liicilla ; " but they began laughing 
 about some people having no souls, you know — as if 
 there could be anybody without a soul — and poor Miss 
 Bury nearly fainted. You may think what a dreadful 
 thing it was for me." 
 
 " My dear child, if that was all," said Mrs Chiley, 
 reassured — " as for everybody having a soul, I am sure 
 I cannot say. You never were in India, to be sure ; 
 but Miss Bury should have known better than to faint 
 at a young man's talk, and frighten you, my poor dear. 
 She ought to be ashamed of herself, at her age. Do 
 you think Tom has turned out clever?" the old lady 
 continued, not without a little finesse, and watching 
 Lucilla with a curious eye. 
 
 " Not in the very least," said Miss Marjoribanks, 
 calmly ; " he is just as awkward as he used to be. It 
 is dreadful to have him here just now, when I have so 
 many things to do—and then he would follow me about 
 everywhere if I would let him. A cousin of that sort 
 is always in the way." 
 
 " I am always afraid of a cousin, for my part," said 
 Mrs Chiley ; " and talking of that, what do you think 
 of Mr Cavendish, Lucilla? He is very nice in him- 
 self, and he has a nice property ; and some people say 
 he has a very good chance to be member for Carling-
 
 106 CHRONICLES OF CAELINGFORD : 
 
 ford when there is an election. I think that is just 
 what would suit you." 
 
 " I could not see him for the lamp/' said LucUla ; " it 
 was right between us, you know — but it is no use talk- 
 ing of that sort of thing just now. Of course, if I had 
 liked, I never need have come home at all," Miss Mar- 
 joribanks added, with composure ; " and, now I have 
 come home, I have got other things to think of If 
 papa is good, I will not think of leaving him for ten 
 years." 
 
 " Oh yes ; I have heard girls say that before," said 
 Mrs Chiley; ''but they always changed their minds. 
 You would not like to be an old maid, Lucilla ; and in 
 ten years " 
 
 " I should have begun to go off a little, no doubt," 
 said Miss Marjoribanks. " No, I can't say I wish to 
 be an old maid. Can they be coming up-stairs already, 
 do you think ? Oh, it is Tom, I suppose/' said Lucilla, 
 with a little indignation. But when They did make 
 their appearance, which was at a tolerably early period 
 — for a return to the drawing-room was quite a novelty 
 for Dr Marjoribanks's friends, and tempted them 
 accordingly — Miss Marjoribanks was quite ready to 
 receive them. And just before ten o'clock, when Mrs 
 Chiley began to think of going home, Lucilla, without 
 being asked, and without indeed a word of preface, 
 suddenly went to the piano, and before anybody knew.
 
 MISS MAEJORIBANKS. 107 
 
 had commenced to sing. She was a great deal too 
 sensible to go into high art on this occasion, or to 
 electrify her father's friends with her newly-acquired 
 Italian, or even with German, as some young ladies 
 do. She sang them a ballad out of one of those trea- 
 sures of resuscitated ballads which the new generation 
 had then begun to dig out of the bowels of the earth. 
 There was not, to tell the truth, a great deal of music 
 in it, which proved Lucilla's disinterestedness. " I 
 only sang it to amuse you," she said, when all the 
 world crowded to the piano ; and for that night she 
 was not to be persuaded to further exertions. Thus 
 Miss Marjoribanks proved to her little public that 
 power of subordinating her personal tastes and even 
 her vanity to her great object, which more than any- 
 thing else demonstrates a mind made to rule. " I hope 
 next time you will be more charitable, and not tan- 
 talise us in this way," Mr Cavendish said, as he took 
 his leave ; and Lucilla retired from the scene of her 
 triumph, conscious of having achieved entire success in 
 her first appearance in Carlingford. She laid her head 
 upon her pillow with that sweet sense of an approving 
 conscience which accompanies the footsteps of the bene- 
 factors of their kind. But even Miss Marjoribanks's 
 satisfaction was not without its drawbacks. She could 
 not get out of her mind that unhappy abortive luncheon 
 and all its horrors ; not to speak of the possibility of
 
 108 CHEONICLES OF CAELINGFORD : 
 
 her religious principles being impugned, whicli was j 
 dreadful in itself (" for people can stand a man being i 
 sceptical, you know," Miss Marjoribanks justly observed, ■ 
 " but everybody knows how unbecoming it is in a wo- ' 
 man — and me who have such a respect for religion I"), i 
 there remained the still more alarming chance that ; 
 IMiss Bury, who was so narrow-minded, might see some- ' 
 thing improper in the presence of the two young men \ 
 at Lucilla's maidenly table ; for, to be sure, the Eector's i 
 sister was altogether incapable of grasping the idea] 
 that young men, like old men and the other less inte- i 
 resting members of the human family, were simple 
 material for Miss Marjoribanks's genius, out of which I 
 she had a great result to produce. This was the dread \ 
 that overshadowed the mind of Lucilla as she composed ' 
 herself to rest after her fatigues. When she slept the i 
 sleep of the innocent, it still pursued her into her' 
 dreams. She dreamed that she stood at the altar by i 
 the side of the member for Carlingford, and that Mr 
 Bury, with inflexible cruelty, insisted upon marrying j 
 her to Tom Marjoribanks instead ; and then the scene | 
 changed, and instead of receiving the salutations of Mr ■ 
 Cavendish as M.P. for the borough, it was the amusing j 
 man, in the character of the defeated candidate, who i 
 grinned and nodded at her, and said from the hustings 
 that he never would forget the luncheon that had been 
 his first introduction to Carlingford. Such was the"
 
 MISS MAEJORIBANKS. 109 
 
 niglitniare that pursued Lucilla even into the sphere 
 of dreams. 
 
 When such a presentiment takes possession of a well- 
 balanced mind like that of Miss Marjoribanks, it may 
 be accepted as certain that something is likely to follow. 
 LuciQa did her best to disarm fate, not only by the 
 sweetest submission and dutifulness to the Doctor and 
 tiis wishes, but by a severe disregard of Tom, which 
 irove that unhappy young man nearly desperate. Far 
 from saying anything about luncheon, she even ignored 
 bis presence at breakfast, and remained calmly uncon- 
 scious of his empty cup, until he had to ask for some 
 coffee in an injured and pathetic voice, which amused 
 Dr Marjoribanks beyond description. But even this 
 iid not prove sufficient to propitiate the Fates. When 
 rhey were gone — and it may be well to say that LucHla 
 used this pronoun to signify the gentlemen, in greater 
 or smaller number as it might happen — and she had 
 finished all her arrangements. Miss Marjoribanks de- 
 cided upon going to Grove Street to pay Barbara 
 Lake a visit, and practise some duets, which was cer- 
 tainly as innocent an occupation for her leisure as could 
 have been desired. She was putting on her hat with 
 this object when the bell in the garden rang solemnly, 
 md Lucilla, whose curiosity conquered her good man- 
 ners for the moment, hastening to the window, saw 
 Mr Bury himself enter the garden, accompanied by a
 
 110 CHEONICLES OF CARLINGFORD 
 
 
 black figure in deep and shabby mourning. All the \ 
 
 tremors of the night rushed back upon her mind at ; 
 
 the sight. She felt that the moment had arrived for ' 
 
 a trial of her courage very different from the exertions ; 
 
 which had hitherto sufficed her. Nothing but the \ 
 
 most solemn intentions could have supported the Eector ■ 
 
 in that severe pose of his figure and features, every line ! 
 
 in which revealed an intention of being ''faithful;" i 
 
 and the accompanying mute in black, whose office the j 
 
 i 
 culprit could not divine, had a veil over her face, and | 
 
 wore a widow's dress. Miss Marjoribanks, it is true, ; 
 
 was not a woman to be discouraged by appearances, ' 
 
 but she felt her heart beat as she collected all her , 
 
 powers to meet this mysterious assault. She took off ) 
 
 her hat with an instinctive certainty that, for this ; 
 
 morning at least, the duet was impracticable, when she ] 
 
 heard Mr Bury's steady step ascending the stairs ; but, \ 
 
 notwithstanding, it was with a perfectly cheerful polite- - 
 
 ness that she bade him welcome when he came into \ 
 
 the room. " It is so good of you to come,'' Lucilla ^ 
 
 said ; " you that have so much to do. I scarcely could : 
 
 believe it when I saw you come in : I thought it , 
 
 must be for papa." 
 
 " I did hope to find Dr Marjoribanks," said the \ 
 
 i 
 Eector, " but as he is not at home, I thought it best \ 
 
 to come to you. This is Mrs Mortimer," said Mr , 
 
 Bury, taking the chair Lucilla had indicated with a \
 
 MISS MARJORIBANKS. Ill 
 
 certain want of observance of his companion which 
 betrayed to the keen perceptions of Miss Marjoribanks 
 that she was a dependant of some kind or other. The 
 Eector was a very good man, but he was Evangelical, 
 and had a large female circle who admired and swore 
 by him ; and, consequently, he felt it in a manner 
 natural that he should take his seat first, and the place 
 that belonged to him as the principal person present ; 
 and then, to be sure, his mission here was for Mrs 
 Mortimer's as well as Miss Marjoribanks's "good." 
 After this introduction, the figure in black put up its 
 veil, and revealed a deprecating woman, with a faint 
 sort of pleading smile on her face. Probably she was 
 making believe to smile at the position in which she 
 found herself; but anyhow she took her seat humbly 
 on another chair at a little distance, and waited, as 
 Lucilla did, for the next golden words that it might 
 please the Eector to say. 
 
 " ^ly sister told me what happened yesterday," said 
 Mr Bury. " She is very sorry for you. Miss Marjori- 
 banks. It is sad for you to be left alone so young, 
 and without a mother, and exposed to — to temptations 
 which it is difficult to withstand at your age. Indeed, 
 at all ages, we have great occasion to pray not to be 
 led into temptation ; for the heart of man is terribly 
 deceitful. After hearing what she had to say, I thought 
 it best to come up at once this morning and talk to
 
 112 CHEONICLES OF CAELINGFORD : 
 
 Dr Marjoribanks. I am sure his natural good sense 
 will teacli him that you ought not to be left alone in 
 the house." 
 
 " I do not see how papa can help it/' said Lucilla. 
 " I am sure it is very sad for him as well ; but since 
 dear mamma died there has been nobody but me to be 
 a comfort to him. I think he begins to look a little 
 cheerful now," Miss Marjoribanks continued, with 
 beautiful simplicity, looking her adversary in the face. 
 " Everybody knows that to be a comfort to him is the 
 object of my life." 
 
 " That is a very good feeling," said the Rector, " but 
 it does not do to depend too much upon our feelings. 
 You are too young to be placed in a position of so 
 much responsibility, and open to so much temptation. 
 I was deeply grieved for Dr Marjoribanks when his 
 partner in life was taken from him ; but my dear Miss 
 Lucilla, now you have come home, who stand so much 
 in need of a mother's care, we must try to find some 
 one to fill her place." 
 
 Lucilla uttered a scream of genuine alarm and dis- 
 may ; and then she came to herself, and saw the force 
 of her position. She had it in her power to tarn the 
 tables on the Eector, and she did not hesitate, as a 
 weaker woman might have done, out of consideration 
 for anybody's feelings. '' Do you mean you have found 
 some one for him to marry ?" she asked, with a look of
 
 MISS MAKJOEIBANKS. 113 
 
 artless surprise, bending her earnest gaze on Mr Bury's 
 face. 
 
 As for the Eector, he looked at Lucilla aghast, like 
 a man caught in a trap. " Of course not, of course 
 not," he stammered, after his first pause of consterna- 
 tion ; and then he had to stop again to take breath. 
 Lucilla kept up the air of amazement and consterna- 
 tion which had come naturally at the first, and had her 
 eyes fixed on him, leaning forward with all the eager* 
 anxiety natural to the circumstances, and the unfortu- 
 nate clergyman reddened from the edge of his white 
 cravat to the roots of his grey hair. He was almost 
 as sensitive to the idea of having proposed something 
 improper as his sister could have been, though indeed, 
 at the worst, there would have been nothing improper 
 in it had Dr Marjoribanks made up his mind to an- 
 other wife. 
 
 " It is very dreadful for me that am so young to go 
 against you," said Lucilla ; " but if it is that, I cannot 
 be expected to take any part in it — it would not be 
 natural. It is the great object of my life to be a com- 
 fort to papa ; but if that is what you mean, I could 
 not give in to it. I am sure Miss Bury would under- 
 stand me," said Miss Marjoribanks ; and she looked so 
 nearly on the point of tears, that the Eector 's anxious 
 disclaimer found words for itself. 
 
 " iSTothing of the kind, my dear Miss Lucilla — no- 
 VOL. I. H
 
 114 CHEONICLES OF CAELINGFOED : 
 
 thing of the kind," cried Mr Bury ; " such an idea 
 never came into my mind. I cannot imagine how I 
 could have said anything — I can't fancy what put such 
 an idea Mrs Mortimer, you are not going away ?" 
 
 Lucilla had already seen with the corner of her eye 
 that the victim had started violently, and that her 
 heavy veil had fallen over her face — but she had not 
 taken any notice, for there are cases in which it is 
 absolutely necessary to have a victim. By this time, 
 however, the poor woman had risen in her nervous, 
 undecided way. 
 
 "I had better go — I am sure I had better go," she 
 said, hurriedly, clasping together a pair of helpless 
 hands, as if they could find a little strength in union. 
 " Miss Marjoribanks will understand you better, and 
 you will perhaps understand Miss Marjoribanks " 
 
 " Oh, sit down, sit down," said Mr Bury, who was 
 not tolerant of feelings. " Perhaps I expressed myself 
 badly. What I meant to say was, that Mrs Mortimer, 
 who has been a little unfortunate in circumstances — 
 sit down, pray — had by a singular providence just 
 applied to me when ray sister returned home yesterday. 
 These things do not happen by chance, Lucilla. We 
 are taken care of when we are not thinking of it. Mrs 
 Mortimer is a Christian lady for whom I have the 
 greatest respect. A situation to take the superin- 
 tendence of the domestic affairs, and to have charge of
 
 MISS MARJORIBANKS. 115 
 
 you, would Ibe just what would suit her. It must be a 
 great anxiety to the Doctor to leave you alone, and 
 without any control, at your age. You may think the 
 liberty is pleasant at first, but if you had a Christian 
 
 friend to watch over and take care of you What is 
 
 the matter ?" said the Eector, in great alarm. It was 
 only that the poor widow who was to have charge of 
 Lucilla, according to his benevolent intention, looked 
 so like fainting, that Miss Marjoribanks jumped up 
 from her chair and rang the bell hastily. It was not 
 Lucilla's way to lose time about anything ; she took 
 the poor woman by the shoulders and all but lifted her 
 to the sofa, where she was lying down with her bonnet 
 off when the Eector came to his senses. To describe 
 the feelings with which Mr Bury contemplated this 
 little entracte, which was not in his programme, would 
 be beyond our powers. He went off humbly and 
 opened the window when he was told to do so, and 
 tried to find the eau-de-cologne on the table ; while 
 Thomas rushed down-stairs for water at a pace very 
 unlike his usual steady rate of progress. As for Lu- 
 cilla, she stood by the side of her patient quite self- 
 possessed, while the Eector looked so foolish. " She 
 will be aU right directly," Miss Majoribanks was say-^ 
 ing ; " luckily she never went right off. When you 
 don't go right off, lying down is everything. If there 
 had been any one to run and get some water she would
 
 116 CHEONICLES OF CARLINGFORD : 
 
 have got over it ; but luckily I saw it in time/' "What 
 possible answer Mr Bury could make to this, or how 
 he could go on with his address in sight of the strange 
 turn things had taken, it would have been hard to say. 
 Fortunately for the moment he did not attempt it, but 
 walked about in dismay, and put himself in the draught 
 (with his rheumatism), and felt dreadfully vexed and 
 angry with Mrs Mortimer, who, for her part, now she 
 had done with fainting, manifested an inclination to 
 cry, for which Mr Bury in his heart could have whipped 
 her, had that mode of discipline been permitted in the 
 Church of England. Lucilla was merciful, but she 
 could not help taking a little advantage of her victory. 
 She gave the sufferer a glass of water, and the eau-de- 
 cologne to keep her from a relapse, and whispered to 
 her to lie quiet ; and then she came back and took 
 her seat, and begged the Eector not to stand in the 
 draught. 
 
 " I don't think she is strong," said Miss Marjori- 
 banks, confidentially, when she had wiled the discon- 
 certed clergyman back to her side, " her colour changes 
 so ; she never would be able for what there is to do 
 here, even if papa would consent to think of it. For 
 my part I am sure I should be glad of a little assist- 
 ance," said Lucilla, "but I never like to give false 
 hopes, and I don't think papa would consent ; — she 
 looks nice if she was not so weak, poor thing ! — and
 
 MISS MAEJOKIBANKS. 117 
 
 there are such quantities of things to be done here : 
 but if you wish it, Mr Bury, I will speak to papa," 
 said Miss Marjoribanks, lifting her eyes, which were 
 so open and straightforvvard, to the Eector's face. 
 
 To tell the truth, he did not in the least know what 
 to say, and the chances are he would not have been 
 half so vexed and angry, nor felt in so unchristian a 
 disposition with the poor woman on the sofa, had he 
 meant to do her harm instead of good. " Yes, I should 
 be glad if you would mention it to Dr Marjoribanks," 
 he said, without very well knowing what he said ; and 
 got up to shake hands with Lucilla, and then recollect- 
 ed that he could not leave his protegee behind him, 
 and hesitated, and did not know what to do. He was 
 really grateful, without being aware of it, to Miss 
 Marjoribanks, when once again she came to his aid. 
 
 " Please, leave her a little," said Lucilla, '' and 1 can 
 make acquaintance with her, you know, in case papa 
 should be disposed to think of it ; — she must lie still 
 till it quite wears off. I would ask you to stay to 
 lunch if I was not afraid of wasting your precious 
 time " 
 
 Mr Bury gave a little gasp of indignation, but he 
 did not say anything. On the whole, even though 
 smarting under the indignity of being asked to lunch, 
 as his sister had been, when probably there might be 
 a repetition of the scene of yesterday, he was glad to
 
 118 CHRONICLES OF CARLINGFOED : 
 
 get safely out of the house, even at the risk of aban- 
 doning his enterprise. As for a woman in want of a 
 situation, who had so little common sense as to faint at 
 such a critical moment, the Eector was disposed to 
 wash his hands of her ; for Mr Bury, " like them all," 
 as Lucilla said, was horribly frightened by a faint when 
 he saw one, and afterwards pretended to disbelieve in 
 it, and called it one of the things which a little self- 
 command could always prevent. When lie was gone 
 Miss Marjoribanks felt the full importance of her 
 victory; and then, though she had not hesitated to 
 sacrifice this poor woman when it was necessary to 
 have a victim, that moment was over, and she had no 
 pleasure in being cruel ; on the contrary, she went and 
 sat by her patient, and talked, and was very kind to 
 her; and after a while heard all her story, and was 
 more comforting than the Eector could have been for 
 his life. 
 
 " I knew it would hurt your feelings," Miss Marjori- 
 banks said, candidly, " but I could not do anything else 
 — and you know it was Mr Bury's fault ; but I am 
 
 sure if I can be of any use to you " It was thus 
 
 that Lucilla added, without knowing it, another com- 
 plication to her fortunes ; but then, to be sure, clear- 
 sighted as she was, she could not see into the future, 
 nor know what was to follow. She told the Doctor in 
 the evening with the greatest faithfulness, and described
 
 MISS MARJORIBANKS. 119 
 
 how Mr Bury looked, and that she had said she did 
 not think papa would be disposed to think of it ; and 
 Dr Marjoribanks was so much entertained that he came 
 up-stairs to hear the end, and took a cup of tea. It 
 was the third night in succession that the Doctor had 
 taken this step, though it was against his principles ; 
 and thus it will be seen that good came out of evil in 
 a beautifully distinct and appropriate way.
 
 CHAPTEE IX. 
 
 It was not till Miss Marjoribanks had surmounted to 
 a certain extent the vexation caused her by her unlucky- 
 confidence in Tom, that that unhappy young man took 
 the step which Lucilla had so long dreaded, but which 
 she trusted to her own genius to hmder him from 
 carrying into execution. Miss Marjoribanks had ex- 
 tricated herself so triumphantly from the consequences 
 of that unhappy commencement of her very charming 
 luncheon-parties, that she had begun to forget the 
 culpability of her cousin. She had defeated the Eector 
 in his benevolent intentions, and she had taken up his 
 protegee just at the moment when Mr Bury was most 
 disgusted with the unfortunate woman's weakness. 
 Poor Mrs Mortimer, to be sure, had fainted, or been 
 near fainting, at the most inopportune moment, and it 
 was only natural that the Eector should be annoyed ; 
 but as for Lucilla, who was always prompt in her 
 actions, and whose good-nature and liberality were un-
 
 MISS ]^LVEJORIBANKS. 121 
 
 doubted, she found her opportunity in the failure of 
 Mr Bury's scheme. After the Eector had gone away. 
 Miss Marjoribanks herself conducted the widow home ; 
 and by this time Mrs Mortimer's prospects were be- 
 ginning to brighten under the active and efficient 
 patronage of her new friend. This being the case, 
 Lucilla's good-humour was perfectly restored, and she 
 had forgiven Tom his maladroitness. " He cannot help 
 it, you know," she said privately to old Mrs Chiley : 
 '' I suppose some people are born to do ridiculous 
 things." And it was indeed as if he had intended to 
 give a practical illustration of the truth of this con- 
 clusion that Tom chose the particular moment he did 
 for driving Miss Marjoribanks to the extremity of her 
 patience. The upholsterers were in the house, and 
 indeed had just finished putting up the pictures on the 
 new paper in the drawing-room (which was green, as 
 Lucilla had determined it should be, of the most deli- 
 cate tint, and looked, as she flattered herself, exactly 
 like silk hangings); and Mr Holden himself waited 
 with a certain complaisance for Miss Marjoribanks's 
 opinion of the efi'ect. He had no doubt on the subject 
 liimself; but he was naturally impressed, as most 
 people were, with that confidence in Lucilla's judgment 
 which so much facilitates the operations of those per- 
 sons who are born to greatness. It was precisely at 
 this moment that his evil genius persuaded Tom Mar-
 
 122 CHEONICLES OF CAELINGFORD : 
 
 joribanks to interrupt Thomas, who was carrying Mr 
 Holden's message to his young mistress, and to shut 
 the library door upon the external world. Lucilla had 
 taken refuge in the library during the renovation of 
 the drawing-room ; and she was aware that this was 
 Tom's last day at Carlingford, and had no intention of 
 being unkind to him. To tell the truth, she had at the 
 bottom of her heart a certain regard and impulse of 
 protection and patronage towards Tom, of which some- 
 thing might have come had the unlucky fellow known 
 how to manage. But, at the same time. Miss Marjori- 
 banks was aware that things must be approaching a 
 crisis up-stairs, and was listening intently to the move- 
 ments overhead, and wondering why she was not sent 
 for. This was the moment of all others at which Tom 
 thought fit to claim a hearing ; and the state of Lu- 
 cilla's feelings may be easily imagined when she saw 
 him plant himself by her side, with his face alternately 
 red and white, and all the signs of a desperate resolu- 
 tion in his countenance. For the first time in her life 
 a certain despair took possession of IVIiss Marjoribanks's 
 mind. The sounds had suddenly ceased up-stairs, as 
 if the artists there were making a pause to contemplate 
 the effect of their completed work — which indeed was 
 precisely the case — and at the same time nobody came to 
 call her, important though the occasion was. She made 
 a last efibrt to emancipate herself before it was too late.
 
 MISS MARJORIBANKS. 123 
 
 " Eing, please, Tom," she said ; " I want to know if 
 they have finished up-stairs. I am so sorry you are 
 going away ; but you know it is one of my principles 
 never to neglect my duty. I am sure they must be 
 waiting for me — if you would only be kind enough to 
 ring." 
 
 " Lucilla," said Tom, " you know I would do any- 
 thing in the world you liked to tell me ; but don't ask 
 me to ring just now : I am going to leave you, and 
 there is something I must say to you, Lucilla," said the 
 young man, with agitation. Miss Marjoribanks was 
 seated near the window, and she had a moral certainty 
 that if any of the Browns happened to be in that 
 ridiculous glass-house where they did their photo- 
 graphy, they must have a perfectly good view of her, 
 with Tom in the background, who had placed himself 
 so as to shut her into the recess of the window. This, 
 coupled with the evidence of her senses that the work- 
 men up-stairs had ceased their work, and that a slow 
 footstep traversing the floor now and then was all that 
 was audible, drove Lucilla to despair. 
 
 " Yes," she said, temporising a little, which was the 
 only thing she could do, " I am sure I am very sorry ; 
 but then, you know, with the house in such a con- 
 dition ! Next time you come I shall be able to enjoy 
 your society," said the designing young woman ; '' but 
 at present I am so busy. It is one of my principles.
 
 124 CHKONICLES OF CAELINGFOED : 
 
 you know, that things are never rightly done if the lady 
 of the house does not pay proper attention. They are 
 sure to make some dreadful mistake up-stairs if I don't 
 look after them. I shall see you again before you go." 
 
 " Lucilla, don't be so cruel !" cried the unlucky Tom, 
 and he caught her hand though they were at the win- 
 dow ; " do stop a moment and listen to me. Lucilla I 
 what does it matter about furniture and things when a 
 man's heart is bursting ? " cried the unfortunate lover ; 
 and just at that moment Miss Marjoribanks could see 
 that the curtain was drawn aside a little — ever so little 
 — in the glass-house. She sat down again with a sigh, 
 and drew her hand away, and prepared herself to meet 
 her fate with heroism at least. 
 
 "What in the world can you have been doing?" 
 said Lucilla, innocently ; '' you used always to tell me, 
 I know, when you got into any difficulty ; and I am 
 
 sure if I can be of any use to you, Tom . But as 
 
 for furniture and things, they matter a great deal, I 
 assure you, to people's happiness ; and then, you know, 
 it is the object of my life to be a comfort to dear papa." 
 
 When she said this. Miss Marjoribanks settled her- 
 self again in the recess of the window, so that the Miss 
 Browns could command a full view if they chose ; for 
 Lucilla's courage was of the highest order, and nothing, 
 except, perhaps, a strategical necessity of profound 
 importance, would have moved her to retreat before an
 
 MISS MAEJORIBANKS. 125 
 
 enemy. As for Tom, he was bewildered, to start with, 
 by this solemn repetition of her great purpose. 
 
 '' I know how good you are, Lucilla," he said, with 
 hiimility ; " but then my uncle, you know — I don't 
 
 think he is a man to appreciate . Oh, Lucilla ! why 
 
 should you go and sacrifice to him the happiness of 
 your life?" 
 
 " Tom," said Miss Marjoribanks, with some solem- 
 nity, " I wish you would not talk to me of happiness. 
 I have always been brought up to believe that duty 
 was happiness ; and everybody has known for a long 
 time what was the object of my life. As for poor papa, 
 it is the worse for him if he does not understand ; but 
 that does not make any difference to my duty," said the 
 devoted daughter. She gave a little sigh as she spoke, 
 the sigh of a great soul, whose motives must always 
 remain to some extent unappreciated ; and the sight of 
 her resignation and beautiful perseverance overwhelmed 
 her unlucky suitor ; for indeed, up to this moment, 
 Lucilla still entertained the hope of preventing Tom 
 from, as she herself described it, ''saying the very 
 words," which, to be sure, are awkward words to hear 
 and to say. 
 
 " Lucilla, when you are so good to my uncle, you 
 ought to have a little pity on me," said Tom, driven to 
 the deepest despondency. " How do you think I can 
 bear it, to see you getting everything done here, as if
 
 126 CHRONICLES OF CARLINGFORD : 
 
 you meant to stay all your life — when you know I love 
 you?" said the unfortunate young man; "when you 
 know I have always been so fond of you, Lucilla, and 
 
 always looked forward to the time ; and now it is 
 
 very hard to see you care so little for me." 
 
 "Tom/' said Miss Marjoribanks, with indignant sur- 
 prise, " how can you say I care little for you 1 you know 
 I was always very fond of you, on the contrary. I am 
 sure I always stood your friend at home, whatever hap- 
 pened, and never said a word when you broke that 
 pretty little pearl ring I was so fond of, and tore the 
 scarf my aunt gave me. I wonder, for my part, how 
 you can be so unkind as to say so. We have always 
 been the very best friends in the world," said Lucilla, 
 with an air of injury. " I always said at school I liked 
 you the best of all my cousins ; and I am very fond of 
 all my cousins.'' Miss Marjoribanks concluded, after 
 a little pause, " It is so unkind to tell me that I don't 
 care for you!' 
 
 Poor Tom groaned within himself as he listened. 
 He did not know what to answer to Lucilla's aggrieved 
 yet frank confession, l^aturally it would have been 
 much less displeasing to Tom to understand that she 
 hated him, and never desired to see him any more. 
 But Miss Marjoribanks was far from entertaining any 
 such unchristian sentiments. She even began to forget 
 her anxiety about what was going on up-stairs in that
 
 MISS IMAKJOEIBANKS. 127 
 
 delightful sense of power and abundant resources with 
 which she was mastering the present difficulty. She 
 reflected in herself that though it was excessively 
 annoying to be thus occupied at such a moment, still it 
 was nearly as important to make an end of Tom as to 
 see that the pictures were hung rightly ; for, to be 
 sure, it was always easy to return to the latter subject. 
 Accordingly, she drew her chair a little nearer to the 
 window, and regarded Tom with a calm gaze of bene- 
 volent interest w^hich was in perfect accordance with 
 the sentiments she had just expressed ; a look in which 
 a little gentle reproach was mingled. '' I have always 
 been like a sister to you," said Lucilla ; " how can you 
 be so unkind as to say I don't care?" 
 
 As for the unhappy Tom, he got up, as was natural, 
 and took a little walk in front of the table, as a young 
 man in trouble is apt to do. " You know very well 
 that is not what I mean, Lucilla," he said, disconso- 
 lately. ''It is you who are unkind. I don't know 
 why it is that ladies are so cruel ; I am not such a 
 snob as to persecute anybody. But what is the good 
 of pretending not to know what I mean ?" 
 
 "Tom, listen 1" cried Miss Marjoribanks, rising in 
 her turn ; " I feel sure they must have finished. There 
 is Mr Holden going through the garden. And every- 
 body knows that hanging pictures is just the thing 
 of all others that requires a person of taste. If
 
 128 CHRONICLES OF CARLINGFOED : 
 
 they have spoiled the room, it will be all your 
 fault." 
 
 " Oh, for heaven's sake never mind the room ! " said 
 Tom. " I never thought you would have trifled with 
 a man, Lucilla. You know quite well what I mean ; 
 you know it isn't a — a new thing," said the lover, 
 beginning to stammer and get confused. ''You know 
 that is what I have been thinking of all along, as soon 
 as ever I had anything to live on. I love you, Lucilla ; 
 you know I love you ! how can you trifle with me so?" 
 
 '' It is you who are trifling," said Miss Marjoribanks, 
 " especially when you know I have really something of 
 importance to do. You can come up-stairs with me 
 if you like. Of course we all love each other. What 
 is the good of being relations otherwise ?" said Lucilla, 
 calmly ; " it is such a natural thing, you know. I sup- 
 pose it is because you are going away that you are so 
 affectionate to-day. It is very nice of you, I am sure ; 
 but, Tom, I feel quite certain you have not packed your 
 things," Miss Marjoribanks added, in an admonitory 
 tone. " Come along with me up-stairs." 
 
 And by this time Lucilla's curiosity was beginning 
 again to get the upper hand. If she only could have 
 escaped, it would have been impossible for her cousin 
 to have renewed the conversation ; and luckily he was 
 to leave Carlingford the same evening; but then a man 
 is always an inconsequent creature, and not to be cal-
 
 MISS MARJORIBANKS. 129 
 
 culated on. This time, instead of obeying as usual, 
 Tom — having, as Miss Marjoribanks afterwards de- 
 scribed (but only in the strictest confidence), " worked 
 himself up to it" — set himself directly in her way, and 
 seized upon both her hands. 
 
 " Lucilla," cried the unlucky fellow, " is it possible 
 that you really have misunderstood me all this time ? 
 Do you mean to say that you don't know ? Oh, Lucilla, 
 listen just five minutes. It isn't because I am your 
 cousin. I wish to heaven I was not your cousin, but 
 some one you had never seen before. I mean I want 
 you to consent to — to — to — marry me, Lucilla. That 
 is what I mean. I am called to the bar, and I can 
 work for you, and make a reputation. Lucilla, listen 
 to what I have got to say." 
 
 Miss Marjoribanks left her hands in his with a calm- 
 ness which froze poor Tom's heart in his breast. She 
 did not even take the trouble to draw them away. 
 "Have you gone out of your senses, Tom?" she asked, in 
 her sensible way ; and she lifted her eyes to the face of 
 the poor young fellow who was in love, with an inquir- 
 ino; look, as if she felt a little anxious about him. " If 
 you have any feeling as if fever was coming on," said 
 Lucilla, " I think you should go up-stairs and lie down 
 a little till papa comes in. I heard there had been 
 some cases down about the canal. I hope it is not the 
 assizes that have been too much for you." When Miss 
 
 VOL. I. I
 
 130 CHRONICLES OF CAELINGFORD : 
 
 Marjoribanks said this, she herself took fast hold of 
 Tom's hands with a motherly grasp to feel if they were 
 hot, and looked into his eyes with a certain serious 
 inspection, which, under the circumstances, poor fellow ! 
 was enough to drive him out of the little rationality 
 he had left. 
 
 Tom was so far carried away by his frenzy, that he 
 gave her a little shake in his impatience. " You are 
 trying to drive me mad, Lucilla ! " cried the young 
 man. " I have got no fever. It is only you who are 
 driving me out of my senses. This time you must 
 hear me. I will not let you go till you have given me 
 an answer. I am called to the bar, and I have begun 
 my Career," said Tom, making a pause for breath. 
 " I knew you would have laughed at me when I was 
 depending on my mother ; but now all that is over, 
 Lucilla. I have loved you as long as I can remem- 
 ber ; and I always thought— that you — cared for me 
 a little. If you will have me, there is nothing I 
 could not do," said Tom, who thoroughly believed what 
 he was saying ; " and if you will not have me, I will 
 not answer for the consequences. If I go off to India, 
 or if I go to the bad " 
 
 "Tom," said Lucilla, solemnly, and this time she 
 drew away her hands, ''if you ever want to get 
 married, I think the very best thing you can do is to 
 go to India. As for marrying just now at your age.
 
 MISS MARJORIBANKS. 131 
 
 you know you miglit as well jump into the sea. You 
 need not be vexed," said Miss Marjoribanks, in her 
 motherly way. " I would not speak so if I was not 
 your best friend. As for marrying me, you know it is 
 ridiculous. I have not the least intention of marrying 
 anybody. If I had thought of that, I need never have 
 come home at all. As for your going to the bad, I 
 am not afraid of that. If I were to let you carry on 
 with such a ridiculous idea, I should never forgive 
 myself. It would be just as sensible to go into a 
 lunatic asylum at once. It is very lucky for you that 
 you said this to me'' Lucilla went on, '' and not to one 
 of the girls that think it great fun to be married. 
 And if I were you, Tom, I would go and pack my 
 things. You know you are always too late; and 
 don't jump on your portmanteau and make such a 
 dreadful noise if it won't shut, but ring the bell for 
 Thomas. You know we are to dine at half-past five 
 to-day, to give you time for the train." 
 
 These were the last words Tom Marjoribanks heard 
 as Lucilla left the room. She ran up to the drawing- 
 room without losing a minute, and burst in upon the 
 vacant place where Mr Holden had stood so long 
 waiting for her. To be sure. Miss Marjoribanks's 
 forebodings were so far fulfilled that the St Cecilia, 
 which she meant to have over the piano, was hung quite 
 in the other corner of the room, by reason of being
 
 132 CHRONICLES OF CARLINGFORD : 
 
 just the same size as another picture at the opposite 
 angle, which the workmen, sternly symmetrical, 
 thought it necessary to "match." But, after all, that 
 was a trifling defect. She stood in the middle of the 
 room, and surveyed the walls, well pleased, with a 
 heart which kept beating very steadily in her bosom. 
 On the whole, perhaps, she was not sorry to have had it 
 out with Tom. So far as he was personally concerned, 
 Miss Marjoribanks, being a physician's daughter, had 
 great faith in the vis medicatrix, and was not afraid 
 for her cousin's health or his morals, as a less experi- 
 enced woman might have been. If she was angry 
 with anybody, it was with herself, who had not taken 
 sufficient precautions to avoid the explanation. " But, 
 after all, everything is for the best," Lucilla said to 
 herself, with that beautiful confidence which is com- 
 mon to people who have things their own way ; and 
 she devoted her mind to the St Cecilia, and paid no 
 more attention to Tom. It was not till more than an 
 hour after that a succession of dreadful thumps were 
 not only heard but felt throughout the house. It was 
 Tom, but he was not doing any harm to himself. He 
 was not blowing out his brains or knocking his head 
 against the wall. He was only jumping on his port- 
 manteau, notwithstanding that Lucilla had warned 
 him against such a proceeding — and in his state of 
 mind the jumps were naturally more frantic than
 
 MISS MAEJORIBANKS. 133 
 
 usual. When Lucilla lieard it, she rang the bell, and 
 told Thomas to go and help Mr Tom with his pack- 
 ing ; from which it will be seen that Miss Marjori- 
 banks bore no grudge against her cousin, but was 
 disposed to send him forth in friendship and peace.
 
 CHAPTEE X. 
 
 It was nearly six weeks after this before all Miss Mar- 
 joribanks's arrangements were completed, and she was 
 able with satisfaction to herself to begin her campaign. 
 It was just before Christmas, at the time above all 
 others when society has need of a ruling spirit. Tor 
 example, Mrs Chiley expected the Colonel's niece, 
 Mary Chiley, who had been married about six months 
 before, and who was not fond of her husband's friends, 
 and at the same time had no home of her own to go 
 to, being an orphan. The Colonel had invited the 
 young couple by way of doing a kind thing, but he 
 grumbled a little at the necessity, and had never liked 
 the fellow, he said — and then what were two old 
 people to do to amuse them ? Then Mrs Centum had 
 her two eldest boys home from school, and was driven 
 out of her senses by the noise and the racket, as she 
 confided to her visitors. " It is all very well to make 
 pretty pictures about Christmas," said the exasperated
 
 MISS MAKJOEIBANKS* 135 
 
 mother, "but I should like to know how one can 
 enjoy anything with such a commotion going on. I 
 get up every morning with a headache, I assure you ; 
 and then Mr Centum expects me to be cheerful when 
 he comes in to dinner ; men are so unreasonable. I 
 should like to know what they would do if they had 
 what we have to go through : to look after all the 
 servants — and they are always out of their senses at 
 Christmas — and to see that the children don't have 
 too much pudding, and to support all the noise. The 
 holidays are the hardest work a poor woman can 
 have," she concluded, with a sigh ; and when it is 
 taken into consideration that this particular Christmas 
 was a wet Christmas, without any frost or possibility 
 of amusement out of doors, English matrons in gene- 
 ral will not refuse their sympathy to Mrs Centum. 
 Mrs Woodburn perhaps was equally to be pitied in a 
 different way. She had to receive several members of 
 her husband's family, who were, like Miss Marjori- 
 banks, without any sense of humour, and who stared, 
 and did not in the least understand her when she 
 ''took off" any of her neighbours; not to say that 
 some of them were Low-Church, and thought the 
 practice sinful. Under these circumstances it will be 
 readily believed that the commencement of Lucilla's 
 operations was looked upon with great interest in 
 Carlingford. It was so opportune that society forgot
 
 136 CHRONICLES OF CAELINGFOED : 
 
 its usual instincts of criticism, and forgave Miss Mar- 
 joribanks for being more enlightened and enterprising 
 than her neighbours ; and then most people were very- 
 anxious to see the drawing-room, now it had been 
 restored. 
 
 This was a privilege, however, not accorded to the 
 crowd. Mrs Chiley had seen it under a vow of secrecy, 
 and Mr Cavendish owned to having made a run up- 
 stairs one evening after one of Dr Marjoribanks's little 
 dinners, when the other convives were in the library, 
 where Lucilla had erected her temporary throne. But 
 this clandestine inspection met with the failure it de- 
 served, for there was no light in the room except the 
 moonlight, which made three white blotches on the 
 carpet where the windows were, burying everything 
 else in the profoundest darkness ; and the spy knocked 
 his foot against something which reduced him to 
 sudden and well-merited agony. As for Mrs Chiley, 
 she was discretion itself, and would say nothing even 
 to her niece. " I mean to work her a footstool in 
 water-lilies, my dear, like the one I did for you when 
 you were married," the old lady said ; and that was 
 the only light she would throw on the subject. " My 
 opinion is that it must be in crimson," Mrs Woodburn 
 said, when she heard this, " for I know your aunt's 
 water-lilies. When I see them growing, I always 
 think of you. It would be quite like Lucilla Marjori-
 
 MISS MAEJORIBANKS. 137 
 
 banks to have it in crimson — for it is a cheerful 
 colour, you know, and quite different from the old fur- 
 niture ; and that would always be a comfort to her 
 dear papa." Trorn this it will be seen that the curi- 
 osity of Carlingford was excited to a lively extent. 
 Many people even went so far as to give the Browns a 
 sitting in their glass-house, with the hope of having a 
 peep at the colour of the hangings at least. But Miss 
 Marjoribanks was too sensible a woman M leave her 
 virgin drawing-room exposed to the sun when there 
 was any, and to the photographers, who were perhaps 
 more dangerous. " I think it is blue, for my part," 
 said Miss Brown, who had got into the habit of rising 
 early in hopes of finding the Doctor's household off its 
 guard. " Lucilla was always a great one for blue ; 
 she thinks it is becoming to her complexion ;" which, 
 indeed, as the readers of this history are aware, was a 
 matter of fact. As for Miss Marjoribanks, she did her 
 best to keep up this agreeable mystery. "For my 
 part, I am fond of neutral tints," she herself said, when 
 she was questioned on the subject; "anybody who 
 knows me can easily guess my taste. I should have 
 been bom a Quaker, you know, I do so like the drabs 
 and greys, and all those soft colours. You can have as 
 much red and green as you like abroad, where the sun 
 is strong, but here it would be bad style," said Lu- 
 cilla ; from which the most simple-minded of her
 
 138 CHRONICLES OF CARLINGFOKD : 
 
 auditors drew the natural conclusion. Thus all the 
 world contemplated with excitement the first Thursday 
 which was to open this enchanted chamber to their 
 admiring eyes. " Don't expect any regular invitation/' 
 Miss Marjoribanks said. '' I hope you will all come, 
 or as many of you as can. Papa has always some 
 men to dinner with him that day, you know, and it is 
 so dreadfully slow for me with a heap of men. That 
 is why I fixed on Thursday. I want you to come 
 every week, so it would be absurd to send an invita- 
 tion ; and remember it is not a party, only an Evening," 
 said Lucilla. " I shall wear a white frock high, as I 
 always do. Now be sure you come." 
 
 " But we can't all go in high white frocks," said Mrs 
 Chiley's niece, Mary, who, if her trousseau had been 
 subtracted from the joys of marriage, would not, poor 
 soul I have found very much left. This intimation 
 dismayed the bride a little ; for, to be sure, she had 
 decided which dress she was to wear before Lucilla 
 spoke. 
 
 " But, my dear, you are married,'' said Miss Marjori- 
 banks ; " that makes it quite difi'erent : come in that 
 pretty pink that is so becoming. I don't want to have 
 any dowdies, for my part ; and don't forget that I shall 
 expect you all at nine o'clock." 
 
 When she had said this. Miss Marjoribanks pro- 
 ceeded on her way, sowing invitations and gratification
 
 MISS MARJORIBANKS. 139 
 
 round her. She asked the youngest Miss Brown to 
 bring her music, in recognition of her ancient claims as 
 the songstress of society in Carlingford ; for Lucilla 
 had all that regard for constituted rights which is so 
 necessary to a revolutionary of the highest class. She 
 had no desire to shock anybody's prejudices or wound 
 anybody's feelings. "And she has a nice little voice," 
 Lucilla said to herself, with the most friendly and tole- 
 rant feelings. Thus Miss Marjoribanks prepared to 
 establish her kingdom with a benevolence which was 
 almost Utopian, not upon the ruins of other thrones, 
 but with the goodwill and co-operation of the lesser 
 powers, who were, to be sure, too feeble to resist her 
 advance, but whose rights she was quite ready to recog- 
 nise, and even to promote, in her own way. 
 
 At the same time it is necessary here to indicate 
 a certain vague and not disagreeable danger, which 
 appeared to some experienced persons to shadow 
 Lucilla's conquering way. Mr Cavendish, who w^as 
 a young man of refinement, not to say that he had a 
 very nice property, had begun to pay attention to Miss 
 Marjoribanks in what Mrs Chiley thought quite a 
 marked manner. To be sure, he could not pretend to 
 the honour of taking her in to dinner, which was not 
 his place, being a young man ; but he did what was 
 next best, and manoeuvred to get the place on her left 
 hand, which, in a party composed chiefly of men, was
 
 140 CHRONICLES OF CAELINGFORD : 
 
 not difficult to manage. For, to tell the truth, most of 
 the gentlemen present were at that special moment 
 more interested in the dinner than in Lucilla. And 
 after dinner it was Mr Cavendish who was the first to 
 leave the room ; and to hear the two talking about all 
 the places they had been to, and all the people they had 
 met, was as good as a play, Mrs Chiley said. Mr Ca- 
 vendish confided to Lucilla his opinions upon things 
 in general, and accepted the reproofs which she admin- 
 istered (for Miss Marjoribanks was quite unquestion- 
 able in her orthodoxy, and thought it a duty, as she 
 said, always to speak with respect of religion) when 
 his sentiments were too speculative, and said, "How 
 charming is divine philosophy ! " so as, for the moment, 
 to dazzle Lucilla herself, who thought it a very pretty 
 compliment. He came to her assistance when she 
 made tea, and generally fulfilled all the duties which 
 are expected of a man who is paying attention to a 
 young lady. Old Mrs Chiley watched the nascent re- 
 gard with her kind old grandmotherly eyes. She cal- 
 culated over in her own mind the details of his posses- 
 sions, so far as the public was aware of them, and 
 found them on the whole satisfactory. He had a nice 
 property, and then he was a very nice, indeed an unex- 
 ceptionable young man ; and to add to this, it had been 
 agreed between Colonel Chiley and Mr Centum, and 
 several other of the leading people in Carlingford, that
 
 MISS INIAEJOEIBANKS. 141 
 
 he was the most likely man to represent the borough 
 when old Mr Chiltern, who was always threatening to 
 retire, fulfilled his promise. Mr Cavendish had a very 
 handsome house a little out of town, where a lady 
 would be next thing to a county lady — indeed, quite a 
 county lady, if her husband was the Member for Car- 
 lingford. 
 
 All these thoughts passed through Mrs Chiley's 
 mind, and, as was natural, in the precious moments 
 after dinner, were suggested in occasional words of 
 meaning to the understanding ear of Miss Marjoribanks. 
 "My dear Lucilla, it is just the position that would suit 
 you — with your talents ! " the old lady said ; and Lu- 
 cilla did not say No. To be sure, she had not at the 
 present moment the least inclination to get married, as 
 she truly said ; it would, indeed, to tell the truth, dis- 
 turb her plans considerably; but still, if such was the 
 intention of Providence, and if it was to the Member 
 for Carlingford, Lucilla felt that it was still credible 
 that everything might be for the best. 
 
 " But it is a great deal too soon to think of anything 
 of that sort," Miss Marjoribanks would reply. '' If I 
 had thought of that, I need never have come home at 
 all ; and especially when papa has been so good about 
 everything." Yet for all that she was not ungracious 
 to Mr Cavendish when he came in first as usual. To 
 marry a man in his position would not, after all, be
 
 142 CHEONICLES OF CARLINGFORD : 
 
 deranging her plans to any serious extent. Indeed, it 
 would, if his hopes were realised, constitute Lucilla a 
 kind of queen in Carlingford, and she could not but 
 feel that, under these circumstances, it might be a kind 
 of duty to reconsider her resolution. And thus the 
 time passed while the drawing-room was undergoing 
 renovation. Mr Cavendish had been much tantalised, 
 as he said, by the absence of the piano, which prevented 
 them from having any music, and Lucilla had even 
 been tempted into a few snatches of song, which, to 
 tell the truth, some of the gentlemen present, especially 
 the Doctor himself and Colonel Chiley, being old- 
 fashioned, preferred without the accompaniment. And 
 thus it was, under the most brilliant auspices, and with 
 the full confidence of all her future constituency, that 
 Miss Marjoribanks superintended the arrangement of 
 the drawing-room on that momentous Thursday, which 
 was to be the real beginning of her great work in Car- 
 lingford. 
 
 "My dear, you must leave yourself entirely in my 
 hands," Lucilla said to Barbara Lake on the morning 
 of that eventful day. " Don't get impatient. I dare- 
 say you don't know many people, and it may be a little 
 slow for you at first ; but everybody has to put up 
 with that, you know, for a beginning. And, by the 
 by, what are you going to wear?" 
 
 " I have not thought about it," said Barbara, who
 
 MISS MAEJOEIBANKS. 143 
 
 had the painful pride of poverty, aggravated much by 
 a sense that the comforts of other people were an injury 
 to her. Poor soul ! she had been thinking of little 
 else for at least a week past ; and then she had not 
 very much choice in her wardrobe ; but her disposition 
 was one which rejected sympathy, and she thought it 
 would look best to pretend to be indifferent. At the 
 same time, she said this with a dull colour on her 
 cheeks, the colour of irritation ; and she could not help 
 asking herself why Lucilla, who was not so handsome 
 as she was, had the power to array herself in gorgeous 
 apparel, while she, Barbara, had nothing but a white 
 frock. There are differences even in white frocks, 
 though the masculine mind may be unaware of them. 
 Barbara's muslin had been washed six times, and had 
 a very different air from the vestal robes of her patron- 
 ess. To be sure, Lucilla was not taken in, in the least, 
 by her companion's look of indifference, and would 
 even have been delighted to bestow a pretty dress 
 upon Barbara, if that had been a possible thing 
 to do. 
 
 " There will be no dress," said Miss Marjoribanks, 
 with solemnity. " I have insisted upon that. You 
 know it is not a party, it is only an Evening. A white 
 frock, high — that is all I mean to wear ; and mind 
 you don't lose patience. I shaU keep my eye on you ; 
 and after the first, I feel sure you will enjoy yourself.
 
 144 CHRONICLES OF CAELINGFORD : j 
 
 Good-bye for the present." When she had uttered | 
 these encouraging words, Miss Marjoribanks went away : 
 to pursue her preparations, and Barbara proceeded to 
 get out her dress and examine it. It was as important 
 to her as all the complicated paraphernalia of the even- i 
 ing's arrangements were to Lucilla. It is true that : 
 there were greater interests involved in the case of the \ 
 leader ; but then Barbara was the soldier of fortune ; 
 who had to open the oyster with her sword, and she ' 
 was feeling the point of it metaphorically while she j 
 pulled out the breadths of her white dress, and tried to : 
 think that they would not look limp at night ; and \ 
 what her sentiments lost in breadth, as compared with ! 
 Lucilla's, they gained in intensity, for — for anything ; 
 she could tell — her life might change colour by means I 
 of this Thursday Evening ; and such, indeed, was her j 
 hope. Barbara prepared for her first appearance in ^ 
 Grange Lane, with a mind wound up to any degree of : 
 daring. It did not occur to her that she required to , - 
 keep faith with Miss Marjoribanks in anything except i 
 the duet. As regarded other matters, Barbara was ! 
 quite unscrupulous, for at the bottom she could not j 
 but feel that any one who was kind to her was taking j 
 an unwarrantable liberty. What right had Lucilla | 
 Marjoribanks to be kind to her? as if she was not as i 
 good as Lucilla any day ! and though it might be ! 
 worth he* while to take advantage of it for the moment, 
 
 C
 
 MISS MAEJOEIBANKS. 145 
 
 it was still an insult, in its way, to be avenged if an 
 opportunity ever should arise. 
 
 The evening came, as evenings do come, quite indif- 
 ferently whether people are glad or sorry ; and it was 
 with a calmness which the other ladies regarded as 
 next to miraculous, that Miss Marjoribanks took 
 Colonel Chiley's arm to go to the dining-room. We 
 say the other ladies, for on this great occasion Mrs 
 Centum and Mrs Woodburn were both among the din- 
 ner-guests. " To see her eat her dinner as if she had 
 nothing on her mind ! " Mrs Centum said in amaze- 
 ment : ''as for me, though nobody can blame me if 
 anything goes wrong, I could enjoy nothing for think- 
 ing of it. And I must say I was disappointed with 
 the dinner," she added, with a certain air of satisfaction, 
 in Mrs Woodburn's ear. It was when they were going 
 up-stairs, and Lucilla was behind with Mrs Chiley. 
 *' The fuss the men have always made about these 
 dinners ! and except for a few made dishes that were 
 really nothing, you know, I can't say I saw anything 
 particular in it. And as for Lucilla, I can't think she 
 has any feeling," said the banker's wife. 
 
 " Oh, my dear, it is because you don't understand," 
 said Mrs Woodburn. " She is kept up, you know, by 
 a sense of duty. It is aU because she has set her heart 
 on being a comfort to her dear papa 1" 
 
 Such, it is true, were the comments that were made 
 VOL. I. K
 
 1 
 j 
 
 146 CHRONICLES OF CAELINGFORD : ^ 
 
 upon the public- spirited young woman who was doing ; 
 so much for Carlingford ; but then Lucilla only shared I 
 
 the fate of all the ffreat benefactors of the world. An i 
 
 i 
 
 hour later the glories of the furniture were veiled and \ 
 hidden by the robes of a radiant flood of society, em- \ 
 bracing all that was most fair and all that was most ' 
 distinguished in Carlingford. JSTo doubt there was a 
 world of heterogeneous elements ; but then if there had | 
 not been difficulties where would have been the use of \ 
 Miss Marjoribanks's genius ? Mr Bury and his sister, 
 who had been unconsciously mollified by the admirable 
 dinner provided for them down-stairs, found some stray 
 lambs in the assembly who were in need of them, and 
 thus had the double satisfaction of combining pleasure I 
 with duty ; and though there were several people in i 
 the room whose lives were a burden to them in con- i 
 sequence of Mrs Woodburn's remarkable gift, even : 
 they found it impossible not to be amused by an occa- ; 
 sional representation of an absent individual, or by the ! 
 dashing sketch of Lucilla, which she gave at intervals ; 
 in her corner, amid the smothered laughter of the audi- 
 ence, who were half ashamed of themselves. " She is | 
 never ill-tempered, you know," the persons who felt ' 
 themselves threatened in their turn said to each other \ 
 with a certain piteous resignation ; and oddly enough 
 it was in general the most insignificant people about ; 
 who were afraid of Mrs Woodburn. It is needless to
 
 MISS MAKJORIBANKS. 147 
 
 say that such a dread never entered the serene intelli- 
 gence of Miss Marjoribanks, who believed in herself 
 with a reasonable and steady faith. As for old Mrs 
 Chiley, who had so many funny little ways, and whom 
 the mimic executed to perfection, she also was quite 
 calm on the subject. " You know there is nothing to 
 take off in me," the old lady would say; " I always was 
 a simple body : and then I am old enough to be all 
 your grandmothers, my dear ; " which was a saying 
 calculated, as Miss Marjoribanks justly observed, to 
 melt a heart of stone. 
 
 Then the Miss Browns had brought their photo- 
 graphs, in which most people in Grange Lane were 
 caricatured hideously, but with such a charming equality 
 that the most exigeant forgave the wrong to himself 
 in laughing at his neighbours. Miss Brown had 
 brought her music too, and sang her feeble little strain 
 to the applause of her immediate neighbours, and to 
 the delight of those who were at a distance, and who 
 could talk louder and flirt more openly under cover of 
 the music ; and there were other young ladies who 
 had also come prepared with a little roll of songs or 
 " pieces." Lucilla, with her finger as it were upon the 
 pulse of the company, let them all exhibit their powers 
 with that enlightened impartiality which we have 
 already remarked in her. When Mr Cavendish came 
 to her in his ingratiating way, and asked her how she
 
 148 CHRONICLES OF CAELINGFOED : 
 
 could possibly let all the sparrows chirp like that when 
 the nightingale was present, Miss Marjoribanks proved 
 herself proof to the flattery. She said, " Do go away, 
 like a good man, and make yourself agreeable. There 
 are so few men, you know, who can flirt in Carling- 
 ford. I have always reckoned upon you as such a 
 valuable assistant. It is always an advantage to have 
 a man who flirts," said Miss Marjoribanks. This was 
 a sentiment perhaps too large and enlightened, in the 
 truest sense of the word, to meet, as it ought to have 
 done, with the applause of her audience. Most of the 
 persons immediately surrounding her thought, indeed, 
 that it was a mere hon-mot to which Lucilla had given 
 utterance, and laughed accordingly ; but it is needless 
 to explain that these were persons quite unable to under- 
 stand her genius. 
 
 All this .time she was keeping her eyes upon a figure 
 in the corner of a sofa, which looked as if it was glued 
 there, and kept staring defiance at the world in general 
 from under black and level brows. Lucilla, it is true, 
 had introduced Barbara Lake in the most flattering 
 way to Mrs Chiley, and to some of the young ladies 
 present ; but then she was a stranger, and an intruder 
 into those regions of the blest, and she could not help 
 feeling so. If her present companions had not whis- 
 pered among themselves, " Miss Lake ! what Miss 
 Lake ? Good gracious ! Lake the drawing -master's
 
 MISS MAEJORIBANKS. 149 
 
 daughter ! '' she herself would still have reminded her- 
 self of her humble paternity. Barbara sat as if she 
 could not move from that corner, looking out upon 
 everybody with scared eyes, which expressed nothing 
 but defiance, and in her own mind making the reflec- 
 tions of bitter poverty upon the airy pretty figures 
 round her, in all the variations of that costume which 
 Miss Marjoribanks had announced as the standard of 
 dress for the evening. Barbara's muslin, six times 
 washed, was not more difierent from the spotless light- 
 ness of all the draperies round her, than was her air of 
 fright, and at the same time of defiance, from the gay 
 babble and pleasant looks of the group which, by a 
 chance combination, she seemed to form part of. She 
 began to say to herself that she had much better go 
 away, and that there never could be anything in com- 
 mon between those frivolous creatures and herself, a 
 poor man's daughter ; and she began to get dreadfully 
 exasperated with Lucilla, who had beguiled her into 
 this scene, to make game of her, as poor Barbara said ; 
 though, so far from making game of her, nobody took 
 much notice, after the first unsuccessful attempt at 
 conversation, of the unfortunate young woman. It 
 was when she was in this unhappy humour that her 
 eye fell upon Mr Cavendish, who was in the act of 
 making the appeal to Lucilla which we have already 
 recorded. Barbara had never as yet had a lover, but
 
 150 CHRONICLES OF CARLINGFOED : 
 
 she had read an unlimited number of novels, which 
 came to nearly the same thing, and she saw at a glance 
 that this was somebody who resembled the indispen- 
 sable hero. She looked at him with a certain fierce 
 interest, and remembered at that instant how often in 
 books it is the humble heroine, behind backs, whom all 
 the young ladies snub, who wins the hero at the last. 
 And then Miss Marjoribanks, though she sent him 
 away, smiled benignantly upon him. The colour 
 flushed to Barbara's cheeks, and her eyes, which had 
 grown dull and fixed between fright and spite, took 
 sudden expression under her straight brows. An in- 
 tention, which was not so much an intention as an 
 instinct, suddenly sprang into life within her ; and, 
 without knowing, she drew a long breath of eagerness 
 and impotence. He was standing quite near by this 
 time, doing his duty according to Miss Marjoribanks's 
 orders, and flirting with all his might ; and Barbara 
 looked at him as a hungry schoolboy might be sup- 
 posed to look at a tempting apple just out of his 
 reach. How was she to get at this suitor of Lucilla's ? 
 It would have given her so pure a delight to tear down 
 the golden apple, and tread on it, and trample it to 
 nothing ; and then it came into her head that it might 
 be good to eat as welL 
 
 It was at this moment that Miss Marjoribanks, who 
 was in six places at once, suddenly touched Barbara's
 
 MISS MARJORIBANKS. 151 
 
 shoulder. " Come with me a minute ; I want to show 
 you something," she said loud out. Barbara, on her 
 side, looked round with a crimson countenance, feeling 
 that her secret thoughts must be written in her guilty 
 eyes. But then these were eyes which could be utterly 
 destitute of expression when they pleased, though their 
 owner, at present just at the beginning of her expe- 
 rience, was not quite aware of the fact. She stumbled 
 to her feet with the awkward motion natural to that 
 form of shyness which her temper and her tempera- 
 ment united to produce in her. She did all but 
 put her foot through Miss Brown's delicate skirt, 
 and she had neither the natural disposition nor the 
 acquired grace which can carry off one of those trifling 
 offences against society. Nevertheless, as she stood 
 beside Lucilla at the piano, the company in general 
 owned a little thrill of curiosity. Who was she ? A 
 girl with splendid black hair, with brows as level as if 
 they had been made with a line, with intense eyes 
 which looked a little oblique under that straight bar 
 of shadow. Her dress was limp, but she was not such 
 a figure as could be passed over even at an evening 
 party ; and then her face was a little flushed, and her 
 eyes lit up with excitement. She seemed to survey 
 everybody with that defiant look which was chiefly 
 awkwardness and temper, but which looked like pride 
 when she was standing up at her full height, and in a
 
 152 CHRONICLES OF CARLINGFORD : 
 
 conspicuous position, where everybody could see her. 
 Most people concluded she was an Italian whom Lu- 
 cilla had picked up somewhere in her travels. As for 
 Mr Cavendish, he stopped short altogether in the occu- 
 pation which Miss Marjoribanks had allotted to him, 
 and drew close to the piano. He thought he had seen 
 the face somewhere under a shabby bonnet in some 
 by-street of Carlingford, and he was even sufficiently 
 learned in female apparel to observe the limpness of 
 her dress. 
 
 This preface of curiosity had all been foreseen by 
 Miss Marjoribanks, and she paused a moment, under 
 pretence of selecting her music, to take the full advan- 
 tage of it ; for Lucilla, like most persons of elevated 
 aims, was content to sacrifice herself to the success of 
 her work ; and then all at once, before the Carlingford 
 people knew what they were doing, the two voices rose, 
 bursting upon the astonished community like a sudden 
 revelation. For it must be remembered that nobody 
 in Carlingford, except the members of Dr Marjori- 
 banks's dinner-party, had ever heard Lucilla sing, 
 much less her companion; and the account which 
 these gentlemen had carried home to their wives had 
 been generally pooh-poohed and put down. " Mr 
 Centum never listens to a note if he can help it," said 
 the banker's wife, " and how could he know whether 
 she had a nice voice or not ? " which, indeed, was a
 
 MISS MAEJOEIBANKS. . 153 
 
 powerful argument. But this evening there could be 
 no mistake about it. The words were arrested on the 
 very lips of the talkers ; Mrs Woodburn paused in the 
 midst of doing Lucilla, and, as we have before said, 
 Mr Cavendish broke a flirtation clean off at its most 
 interesting moment. It is impossible to record what 
 tliey sang, for those events, as everybody is aware, 
 happened a good many years ago, and the chances are 
 that the present generation has altogether forgotten 
 the duet which made so extraordinary an impression 
 on the inhabitants of Grange Lane. The applause 
 with which the performance was received reached the 
 length of a perfect ovation. Barbara, for her part, who 
 was not conscious of having ever been applauded be- 
 fore, flushed into splendid crimson, and shone out from 
 under her straight eyebrows, intoxicated into absolute 
 beauty. As for Miss Marjoribanks, she took it more 
 calmly. Lucilla had the advantage of knowing what 
 she could do, and accordingly she was not surprised 
 when people found it remarkable. She consented, on 
 urgent persuasion, to repeat the last verse of the 
 duet, but when that was over, was smilingly ob- 
 durate, '' Almost everybody can sing," said Miss Mar- 
 joribanks, with a magnificent depreciation of her own 
 gift. " Perhaps Miss Brown will sing us something ; 
 but as for me, you know, I am the mistress of the 
 house."
 
 154 CHEONICLES OF CAELINGFORD : 
 
 Lucilla went away as she spoke to attend to her j 
 guests, but she left Barbara still crimson and splen- | 
 did, triumphing over her limp dress and all her ; 
 disadvantages, by the piano. Fortunately, for that j 
 evening Barbara's pride and her shyness prevented ; 
 her from yielding to the repeated demands addressed ' 
 to her by the admiring audience. She said to Mr 
 Cavendish, with a disloyalty which that gentleman 
 thought piquant, that " Miss Marjoribanks would | 
 not be pleased ; " and the future Member for Car- : 
 lingford thought he could not do better than obey i 
 the injunctions of the mistress of the feast by a little : 
 flirtation with the gifted unknown. To be sure, 
 Barbara was not gifted in talk, and she was still : 
 defiant and contradictory ; but then her eyes were j 
 blazing with excitement under her level eyebrows, and j 
 she was as willing to be flirted with as if she had known , 
 a great deal better. And then Mr Cavendish had a ^ 
 weakness for a contralto. While this little by-play 
 was going on, Lucilla was moving about, the centre of 
 a perfect tumult of applause. 'No more complete sue- , 
 cess could be imagined than that of this first Thursday \ 
 Evening, which was remarkable in the records of Car- 
 lingford ; and yet perhaps Miss Marjoribanks, like 
 other conquerors, was destined to build her victory 
 upon sacrifice. She did not feel any alarm at the pre- \ 
 sent moment ; but even if she had, that would have
 
 MISS MARJORIBANKS. 155 
 
 made no difference to Lncilla's proceedings. She was 
 not the woman to shrink from a sacrifice when it was 
 for the promotion of the great object of her life ; and 
 that, as everybody knew who knew Miss Marjoribanks, 
 was to be a comfort to her dear papa.
 
 CHAPTER XL 
 
 "You have never told us who your unknown was,'* 
 said Mr Cavendish. " I suppose she is professional. 
 Carlingford could not possibly possess two such voices . 
 in private life." 
 
 " Oh, I don't know about two such voices," said 
 Miss Marjoribanks ; " her voice suits mine, you know. 
 It is always a great thing to find two voices that suit..' 
 I never would choose to have professional singers, for 
 my part. You have to give yourself up to music when 
 you do such a thing, and that is not my idea of society. 
 I am very fond of music," said Lucilla — " excessively 
 fond of it ; but then everybody is not of my opinion — 
 and one has to take so many things into consideration. 
 For people who give one party in the year it does very 
 well — but then I hate parties : the only pleasure in 
 society is when one's friends come to see one without 
 any ado." 
 
 " In white frocks, high,'' said Mrs Woodburn, who
 
 MISS MARJORIBAJSTKS. 157 
 
 could not help assuming Lucilla's manner for tlie mo- 
 ment, even while addressing herself ; but as the pos- 
 sibility of such a Usc-majcste did not even occur to 
 ]\Iiss ]\Iarjoribanks, she accepted the observation in 
 good faith. 
 
 " Yes ; I hate a grand toilette when it is only a 
 meeting of friends/' she said — "for the girls, you 
 know ; of course you married ladies can always do 
 what you like. You have your husbands to please/' 
 said I-ucilla. And this was a little hard upon her 
 satirist, for, to tell the truth, that was a particular of 
 domestic duty to which Mrs Woodburn did not much 
 devote herself, according to the opinion of Grange 
 Lane. 
 
 " But about the contralto," said Mr Cavendish, who 
 had come to call on Miss Marjoribanks under his 
 sister's wing, and desired above all things to keep the 
 peace between the two ladies, as indeed is a man's 
 duty under such circumstances. "You are always 
 statesmanlike in your views ; but I cannot under- 
 stand why you let poor little Molly Brown carry on her 
 chirping when you had such an astonishing force in 
 reserve. She must have been covered with confusion, 
 the poor little soul." 
 
 " Nothing of the sort," said Mrs Woodburn, pursu- 
 ing her favourite occupation as usual. " She only 
 said, ' Goodness me I how high Lucilla goes ! Do you
 
 158 CHRONICLES OF CAELINGFORD : ' 
 
 like that dreadfully high music ? ' and made little eye- 
 brows/^ To be sure, the mimic made IVIiss Brown's 
 eyebrows, and spoke in her voice, so that even Lucilla 
 found it a little difficult to keep her gravity. But then . 
 Miss Marjoribanks was defended by her mission, and 
 she felt in her heart that, representing public interest; 
 as she did, it was her duty to avoid all complicity in 
 any attack upon an individual ; and consequently, to a 
 certain extent, it was her duty also to put Mrs Wood- i 
 burn down. 
 
 " Molly Brown has a very nice little voice," said Lu- 
 cilla, with most disheartening gravity. " I like to hear 
 her sing, for my part — the only thing is that she wants- 
 cultivation a little. It doesn't matter much, you know, i 
 whether or not you have a voice to begin with. It is i 
 cultivation that is the thing," said Miss Marjoribanks,' 
 deliberately. " I hope you really thought it was a 
 pleasant evening. Of course everybody said so to me ; , 
 but then one can never put any faith in that. I havej 
 said it myself ever so many times when I am sure I i 
 did not mean it. For myself, I don't give any import- ; 
 ance to the first evening. Anybody can do a thing; 
 once, you know ; the second and the third, and so on : 
 — that is the real test. But I hope you thought it ' 
 pleasant so far as it went." i 
 
 " It was a great deal more than pleasant," said Mr j 
 Cavendish ; " and as for your conception of social ■
 
 MISS MAEJORIBANKS. 159 
 
 politics, it is masterly," the future M.P. added, in a 
 tone which struck Lucilla as very significant ; not that 
 she cared particularly about INIr Cavendish's meaning, 
 but still, when a young man who intends to go into 
 Parliament congratulates a young lady upon her states- 
 manlike views, and her conception of politics, it must 
 be confessed that it looks a little particular ; and then, 
 if that was what he meant, it was no doubt Lucilla's 
 duty to make up her mind. 
 
 " Oh, you know, I went through a course of politi- 
 cal economy at Mount Pleasant," she said, with a 
 laugh. " One of the Miss Biounts was dreadfully 
 strong-minded. I wonder, for my part, that she did 
 not make me literary ; but fortunately I escaped 
 that." 
 
 " Heaven be praised 1 " said Mr Cavendish. " I 
 think you ought to be Prime-minister. That con- 
 tralto of yours is charming raw material ; but if I 
 were you I would put her through an elementary 
 course. She knows how to sing, but she does not 
 know how to move ; and as for talking, she seems to 
 expect to be insulted. If you make a pretty-behaved 
 young lady out of that, you will beat Adam Smith."' 
 
 " Oh, I don't know much about Adam Smith," said 
 Miss Marjoribanks. "I think Miss Martha thought 
 him rather old-fashioned. As for poor Barbara, she 
 is only a little shy, but that will soon wear off. I
 
 160 CHEONICLES OF CARLINGFORD : j 
 
 don't see what need site has to talk — or to move | 
 either, for that matter. I thought she did very 
 well indeed for a girl who never goes into society. ] 
 Was it not clever of me to find her out the very first ; 
 day I was in Carlingford ? It has always been so | 
 difiicult to find a voice that went perfectly with | 
 mine." 
 
 " For my part, I think it was a great deal more \ 
 than clever/' said Mr Cavendish ; for Mrs Woodburn, i 
 finding herself unappreciated, was silent and making 
 notes. " It was a stroke of genius. So her name is \ 
 Barbara ? I wonder if it would be indiscreet to ask , 
 where Mademoiselle Barbara comes from, or if she be- " 
 longs to anybody, or lives anywhere. My own im-j 
 pression is that you mean to keep her shut up in a i 
 box aU the week through, and produce her only oni 
 the Thursday evenings. I have a weakness for a fine] 
 contralto. If she had been existing in an ordinary' 
 habitation like other people in Carlingford, I should; 
 have heard her, or heard of her. It is clear to mej 
 that you keep her shut up in a box." I 
 
 " Exactly," said Lucilla. " I don't mean to tell youi 
 anything about her. You may be sure, now I havej 
 found her out, I mean to keep her for myself Heri 
 box is quite a pretty one, like what Gulliver had some-j 
 where. It is just time for lunch, and you are both' 
 going to stay, I hope ; and there is poor Mary Chiley!
 
 MISS MAEJORIBANKS. 161 
 
 and her husband coming through the garden. What 
 a pity it is he is such a goose !" 
 
 " Yes ; but you know she never would take her 
 uncle's advice, my dear/' said the incorrigible mimic, 
 putting .on Mrs Chiley's face ; '' and being an orphan, 
 what could anybody do ? And then she does not get 
 on with his family. By the way," Mrs Woodburn 
 said, falling into her natural tone, if indeed she could 
 be said to have a natural tone — " I wonder if anybody 
 ever does get on with her husband's family?" The 
 question was one which was a little grave to herself at 
 the moment ; and this was the reason why she re- 
 turned to her identity — for there was no telling how 
 long the Woodburns, who had come for Christmas, 
 meant to stay. " I shall be quite interested to watch 
 you, Lucilla, when it comes to be your turn, and see 
 how you manage^ she went on, with a keen look at 
 Miss Marjoribanks ; and Mr Cavendish laughed. He 
 too looked at her, and Lucilla felt herself in rather a 
 delicate position : not that she was agitated, as might 
 have been the case had the future M.P. for Carling- 
 ford "enojao;ed her affections," as she herself would 
 have said. Fortunately these young affections were 
 quite free as yet ; but nevertheless Miss Marjoribanks 
 felt that the question was a serious one, as coming 
 from the sister of a gentleman who was undeniably 
 paying her attention. She did not in the least wish 
 
 VOL. I. L
 
 162 CHRONICLES OF CARLINGFORD : 
 
 to alarm a leading member of a family into which it | 
 was possible she might enter ; and then at the same 
 time she intended to reserve fully all her individual j 
 rights. ; 
 
 "■ I always make it a point never to shock any- 1 
 body's prejudices/' said Miss Marjoribanks. "I I 
 should do just the same with them as with other : 
 people ; all you have to do is to show from the first : 
 that you mean to be good friends with everybody. | 
 But then I am so lucky : I can always get on with j 
 people," said Lucilla,, rising to greet the two unfor- | 
 tunates who had come to Colonel Chiley's to spend a i 
 merry Christmas, and who did not know what to do 
 with themselves. And then they all went down- : 
 stairs and lunched together very pleasantly. As i 
 for Mr Cavendish, he was "quite devoted," as poor ! 
 Mary Chiley said, with a touch of envy. To be sure, \ 
 her trousseau was still in its full glory; but yet \ 
 life under the conditions of marriage was not nearly 
 such fun as it had been when she was a young lady, \ 
 and had some one paying attention to her : and she 
 ratlier grudged Lucilla that climax of existence, not- ; 
 withstanding her own superior standing and dignity 
 as a married lady. And Mrs Woodburn too awoke \ 
 from her study of the stupid young husband to remark i 
 upon her brother's behaviour : she had not seen the ! 
 two together so often as Mrs Chiley had done, and ;
 
 MISS MARJORIBANKS. 163 
 
 consequently this was the first time that the thought 
 had occurred to her. She too had been born " one of 
 the Cavendishes/' as it was common to say in Carling- 
 ford, with a certain imposing yet vague grandeur — 
 and she was a little shocked, like any good sister, at 
 the first idea. She watched Lucilla's movements and 
 looks with a quite diff'erent kind of attention after 
 this idea struck her, and made a rapid private calcula- 
 tion as to who Dr Marjoribanks's connections were, 
 and what he would be likely to give his daughter ; so 
 that it is evident that Lucilla did not deceive herself, 
 but that Mr Cavendish's attentions must have been 
 marked indeed. 
 
 This was the little cloud which arose, as we have 
 said, no bio^orer than a man's hand, over Miss Mar- 
 joribanks's prosperous way. When the luncheon 
 was over and they had all gone, Lucilla took a few 
 minutes to think it over before she went out. It was 
 not that she was unduly flattered by Mr Cavendish's 
 attentions, as might have happened to an inexpe- 
 rienced young woman ; for Lucilla, with her attrac- 
 tions and genius, had not reached the mature age of 
 nineteen without receivino- the natural homao;e of 
 mankind on several clearly-defined occasions. But 
 then the present case had various features peculiar to 
 itself, which prevented Lucilla from crushing it in the 
 bud, as she had meant to do with her cousin's ill-fated
 
 ] 64 CHEONICLES OF CAELINGFORD : 
 
 passion. She had to consider, in the first place, her 
 mission in Carlingford, which was more important 
 than anything else ; but though Miss Marjoribanks 
 had vowed herself to the reorganisation of society in 
 her native town, she had not by any means vowed 
 that it was absolutely as Miss Marjoribanks that she 
 was to accomplish that renovation. And then there 
 was something in the very idea of being M.P. for Car- 
 lingford which moved the mind of Lucilla. It was a 
 perfectly ideal position for a woman of her views, and 
 seemed to offer the very field that was necessary for 
 her ambition. This was the reason, of all others, 
 which made her less careful to prevent Mr Cavendish 
 from " saying the words " than she had been with 
 Tom. To be sure, it would be a trial to leave the 
 drawing-room after it had just been furnished so en- 
 tirely to her liking — not to say to her complexion ; 
 but still it was a sacrifice which might be made. It 
 was in this way that Miss Marjoribanks prepared her- 
 self for the possible modifications which circumstances 
 might impose. She did not make any rash resolution 
 to resist a change which, on the whole, might possibly 
 be " for the best," but prepared herself to take every- 
 thing into consideration, and possibly to draw from it 
 a superior good : in short, she looked upon the matter 
 as a superior mind, trained in sound principles of poli- 
 tical economy, might be expected to look upon the
 
 MISS MARJOKIBANKS. 165 
 
 possible vicissitudes of fortune, with an enlightened 
 regard to the uses of all things, and to the compara- 
 tive values on either side. 
 
 Barbara Lake, as it happened, was out walking at 
 the very moment when Miss Marjoribanks sat down to 
 consider this question. She had gone to the School of 
 Design to meet Kose, with an amiability very unusual 
 in her. Eose had made such progress, after leaving 
 Mount Pleasant, under her father's care, and by the 
 help of that fine feeling for art which has been men- 
 tioned in the earlier part of this history, that the 
 charge of tlie female pupils in the School of Design 
 had been confided to her, with a tiny little salary, 
 which served Mr Lake as an excuse for keeping his 
 favourite little daughter with him. Nothing could be 
 supposed more unlike Barbara than her younger sister, 
 who just came up to her shoulder, and was twice as 
 serviceable and active and " nice," according to the 
 testimony of all the children. Barbara had led her 
 father a hard life, poor man ! the time that Eose was 
 at Mount Pleasant ; but now that his assistant had 
 come back again, the poor drawing-master had re- 
 covered all his old spirits. She was just coming out 
 of the School of Design, with her portfolio under her 
 arm, when Barbara met her. There were not many 
 pupils, it is true, but still there were enough to worry 
 poor Eose, who was not an imposing personage, and
 
 166 CHRONICLES OF CARLINGFORD : 
 
 who was daily wounded by the discovery that after all 
 there are but a limited number of persons in this 
 world, especially in the poorer classes of the com- 
 munity, and under the age of sixteen, who have a feel- 
 ing for art. It was utterly inconceivable to the young 
 teacher how her girls could be so clever as to find out 
 each a different way of putting the sublime features of 
 the Belveder Apollo out of drawing, and she was still 
 revolving this difiicult problem when her sister joined 
 her. Barbara, for her part, was occupied with thoughts 
 of a hero much more interesting than he of Olympus. 
 She was flushed and eager, and looking very handsome 
 under her shabby bonnet ; and her anxiety to have a 
 confidant was so great that she made a dart at Eose, 
 and grasped her by the arm under which she was 
 carrying her portfolio, to the great discomposure of 
 the young artist. She asked, with a little anxiety, 
 " What is the matter ? is there anything wrong at 
 home?" and made a rapid movement to get to the 
 other side. 
 
 " Oh, Eose," said Barbara, panting with haste and 
 agitation, " only fancy ; I have just seen him. I met 
 him right in front of Masters's, and he took off his 
 hat to me. I feel in such a way — I can scarcely 
 speak." 
 
 " Met — who ? " said Eose — for she was imperfect in 
 her grammar, like most people in a moment of emer-
 
 MISS MAEJORIBANKS. 167 
 
 gency ; and, besides, she shared to some extent Miss 
 Marjoribanks's reluctance to shock the prejudices of 
 society, and was disturbed by the idea that somebody 
 might pass and see Barbara in her present state of 
 excitement, and perhaps attribute it to its true cause. 
 
 " Oh you stupid little thing ! " said Barbara, giving 
 her " a shake " by her disengaged arm. " I tell you, 
 him ! — the gentleman I met at Lucilla Marjoribanks's. 
 He looked as if he was quite delighted to see me 
 again ; and I am sure he turned round to see where I 
 was going. He couldn't speak to me, you know, the 
 first time ; though indeed I shouldn't be the least sur- 
 prised if he had followed — at a distance, you know, 
 only to see where I live," said Barbara, turning round 
 and searching into the distance with her eager eyes. 
 But there was nobody to be seen in the street, except 
 some of Eose's pupils lingering along in the sunshine, 
 and very probably exchanging similar confidences. 
 Barbara turned back again with a touch of disappoint- 
 ment. "I am quite sure be will find out before long ; 
 and don't forget I said so," she added, with a little 
 nod of her head. 
 
 " I don't see what it matters if he found out direct- 
 ly," said Rose. " Papa would not let anybody come to 
 our house that he did not approve of ; and then, you 
 know, he will never have anything to say to people 
 who are patronising. I don't want to hear any more
 
 168 CHKONICLES OF CAELINGFORD : 
 
 about your fine gentleman. If you were worried as I 
 am, you would think much more of getting home than 
 of anybody bowing to you in the street. One of the 
 gentlemen from Marlborough House once took off his 
 hat to me/' said Eose, with a certain solemnity. " Of 
 course I was pleased; but then I knew it was my 
 design he was thinking of — my Honiton flounce, you 
 know. I suppose this other one must have thought 
 you had a pretty voice." 
 
 This time, however, it was an angry shake that 
 Barbara gave to her sister. " I wish you would not 
 be such a goose," she said ; " who cares about your 
 Honiton flounce ? He took off his hat because — 
 because he admired me, I suppose — and then it was a 
 great deal more than just taking off" his hat. He 
 gave me such a look ! Papa has no sense, though I 
 suppose you will blaze up when I say so. He ought 
 to think of us a little. As for patronising, I should 
 soon change that, I can tell you. But then papa 
 thinks of nothing but paying his bills and keeping 
 out of debt, as he says — as if everybody was not in 
 debt; and how do you suppose we are ever to get 
 settled in life? It would be far more sensible to 
 spend a little more, and go into society a little, and 
 do us justice. Only think all that that old Doctor is 
 doing for Lucilla ; and there are four of us when the 
 little ones grow up," said Barbara, in a tone of injury.
 
 MISS MAIiJOKIBANKS. 169 
 
 "I should like to know what papa is thinking of? If 
 mamma had not died when she did " 
 
 "It was not poor mamma's fault/' said Eose. "I 
 daresay she would have lived if she could for all our 
 sakes. But then you have always taken a false view 
 of our position, Barbara. We are a family of artists" 
 said the little mistress of the School of Design. She 
 had pretty eyes, very dewy and clear, and they woke 
 up under the excitement of this proud claim. " When 
 papa is appreciated as he deserves, and when Willie 
 has made a name," said Eose, with modest confidence, 
 " things will be different. But the true strength of our 
 position is that we are a family of artists. We are 
 everybody's equal, and we are nobody's equal. We 
 have a rank of our own. If you would only remember 
 this, you would not grudge anything to Lucilla Mar- 
 joribanks ; and then I am sure she has been very kind 
 to you." 
 
 " Oh, bother ! " said the unfeeling Barbara. " You 
 do nothing but encourage papa with your nonsense. 
 And I should like to know what right Lucilla Marjori- 
 banks has to be kind to me ? If I am not as good as 
 she, it is a very strange thing. I should never take 
 the trouble to think about him if it was not that 
 Lucilla believes he is paying her attention — that is 
 the great fun. It would be delicious to take him from 
 her, and make crame of her and her kindness. Good-
 
 170 CHRONICLES OF CAELINGFOED : 
 
 ness ! there he is again. I felt sure that he would try 
 to find out the house." 
 
 And Barbara crimsoned higher than ever, and held 
 Eose fast by the arm, and called her attention by the 
 most visible and indeed tangible signs to the elegant 
 apparition, like any other underbred young woman. 
 As for Rose, she was a little gentlewoman born, and 
 had a horror unspeakable of her sister's bad manners. 
 When Mr Cavendish made a movement as if to ad- 
 dress Barbara, it was the pretty grey eyes of Rose 
 lifted to his face with a look of straightforward sur- 
 prise and inquiry which made him retire so hastily. 
 He took off his hat again more respectfully than before, 
 and pursued his walk along Grove Street, as if he had 
 no ulterior intention in visiting that humble part of 
 the town. As for Barbara, she held Rose faster than 
 ever, and almost pinched her arm to make her listen. 
 "I knew he was trying to find out the house," she 
 said, in an exultant whisper. "And Lucilla thinks 
 he is paying her attention ! " For the fact was, that 
 when Miss Marjoribanks took to being kind to Bar- 
 bara, she conferred upon the contralto at the same 
 moment a palpable injury and grievance, which was 
 what the drawing-master's daughter had been looking 
 for, for several years of her life. And naturally 
 Lucilla, who was at this moment thinking it all over 
 under the soft green shadows from her new hangings,
 
 MISS MARJOEIBANKS. 171 
 
 was deprived of the light which might have been 
 thrown on her reflections, had she seen what was 
 going on in Grove Street. The conditions of humanity- 
 are such that even a woman of genius cannot alto- 
 gether overstep them. And Lucilla still continued to 
 think that ]\Ir Cavendish was paying her attention, 
 which, indeed, was also the general opinion in Grange 
 Lane.
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 The second of her Thursday evenings found Miss ' 
 Marjoribanks, though secure, perhaps more anxious ; 
 than on the former occasion. The charm of the first i 
 novelty was gone, and Lucilla did not feel quite sure ' 
 that her subjects had the good sense to recognise all ' 
 the benefits which she was going to confer upon them. ; 
 " It is the second time that counts," she said in confi- i 
 dence to ]\Irs Chiley. "Last Thursday they wanted; 
 to see the drawing-room, and they wanted to know| 
 what sort of thing it was to be. Dear Mrs Chiley, it; 
 is to-night that is the test," said Lucilla, giving a^ 
 nervous pressure to her old friend's hand ; at least \ 
 a pressure that would have betokened the existence 
 of nerves in any one else but Miss Marjoribanks, 
 whose magnificent organisation was beyond any suspi- 
 cion of such weakness. But, nevertheless, Mrs Chiley, | 
 who watched her with grandmotherly interest, was com- 
 forted to perceive that Lucilla, as on the former occa-*
 
 MISS MA.EJORIBANKS. 173 
 
 sion, had strength of mind to eat her dinner. " She 
 wants a little support, poor dear/' the old lady said in 
 her heart ; for she was a kinder critic than the younger 
 matrons, who felt instinctively that Miss Marjoribanks 
 was doing what they ought to have done. She took 
 her favourite's arm in hers as they went up-stairs, and 
 gave Mr Cavendish a kindly nod as he opened the 
 door for them. "He will come and give you his 
 assistance as soon as ever he can get away from the 
 gentlemen," said Mrs Chiley, in her consolatory tone ; 
 "but, good gracious, Lucilla, what is the matter?" 
 The cause of this exclamation was a universal hum 
 and rustle as of many dresses and many voices ; and, 
 to tell the truth, when Miss Marjoribanks and her 
 companion reached the top of the stairs, they found 
 themselves lost in a laughing crowd, which had taken 
 refuge on the landing. " There is no room, Lucilla. 
 Lucilla, everybody in Carlingford is here. Do make a 
 little room for us in the drawing-room," cried this over- 
 plus of society. If there was an enviable woman in 
 Carlingford at that moment, it certainly was Miss Mar- 
 joribanks, standing on the top of her own stairs, scarcely 
 able to penetrate through the throng of her guests. 
 Her self-possession did not forsake her at this supreme 
 moment. She grasped Mrs Chiley once again with a 
 little significant gesture which pleased the old lady, for 
 she could not but feel that she was Lucilla's only
 
 174 CHRONICLES OF CARLINGFORD : 
 
 confidante in her brilliant but perilous undertaking. \ 
 " They will not be able to get in when they come up- 
 stairs," said Miss Marjoribanks ; and whether the j 
 faint inflection in her voice meant exultation or dis- j 
 appointment, her old friend could not tell. 
 
 But the scene changed when the rightful sovereign 
 entered the gay but disorganised dominion where her ! 
 subjects attended her. Before any one knew how it 
 was done, Miss Marjoribanks had re-established order, 
 and, what was still more imjoortant, made room. She j 
 said, " You girls have no business to get into corners. 
 The corners are for the people that can talk. It is i 
 one of my principles always to flirt in the middle of 
 the company," said Lucilla ; and again, as happened : 
 so often, ignorant people laughed and thought it a I 
 ton mot. But it is needless to inform the more : 
 intelligent persons who understand Miss Marjoribanks, I 
 that it was by no means a hon mot, but expressed 
 Lucilla's convictions with the utmost sincerity. j 
 
 Thus it happened that the second Thursday was 
 
 more brilliant and infinitely more gratifying than the ; 
 
 first had been. For one thing, she felt sure that it ; 
 
 was not to see the new furniture, nor to criticise this , 
 
 new sort of entertainment, but with the sincerest | 
 
 intention of enjoying themselves, that all the people : 
 
 i 
 had come ; and there are moments when the egotism i 
 
 of the public conveys the highest compliment that can '
 
 MISS MAKJOlilBANKS. 175 
 
 be paid to the great minds which take in hand to rule 
 and to amuse it. The only drawback was, that Bar- 
 bara Lake did not show the same modesty and reti- 
 cence as on the former occasion. Far from being 
 sensibly silent, which she had been so prudent as to be 
 on Miss Marjoribanks's first Thursday, she forgot her- 
 self so far as to occupy a great deal of Mr Cavendish's 
 valuable time, which he might have employed much 
 more usefully. She not only sang by herself when he 
 asked her, having brought some music with her unseen 
 by Lucilla, but she kept her seat upon the stool before 
 the piano ever so long afterwards, detaining him, and, 
 as Miss Marjoribanks had very little doubt, making 
 an exhibition of herself : for Barbara, having received 
 one good gift from nature, had been refused the other, 
 and could not talk. When Lucilla, arrested in the 
 midst of her many occupations, heard her protegee's 
 voice rising alone, she stopped quite short with an 
 anxiety which it was touching to behold. It was not 
 the jealousy of a rival cantatrice which inspired Miss 
 Marjoribanks's countenance, but the far broader and 
 grander anxiety of an accomplished statesman, who 
 sees a rash and untrained hand meddling with his 
 most delicate machinery. Lucilla ignored everything 
 for the moment — her own voice, and Mr Cavendish's 
 attentions, and every merely secondary and personal 
 emotion. All these details were swallowed up in the
 
 176 CHRONICLES OF CAELINGFOED : 
 
 fear that Barbara would not acquit herself as it was 
 necessary for the credit of the house that she should 
 acquit herself ; that she should not sing well enough, 
 or that she should sing too much. Once more Miss 
 Marjoribanks put her finger upon the pulse of the 
 community as she and they listened together. Fortu- 
 nately, things went so far well that Barbara sang her 
 very best, and kept up her prestige : but it was diffe- 
 rent in the second particular ; for, unluckily, the con- 
 tralto knew a great many songs, and showed no incli- 
 nation to stop. Nothing remained for it but a bold 
 coup, which Lucilla executed with all her natural 
 coolness and success. 
 
 " My dear Barbara," she said, putting her hands on 
 the singer's shoulders as she finished her strain, "that 
 is enough for to-night. Mr Cavendish will take you 
 down-stairs and get you a cup of tea ; for you know 
 there is no room to-night to serve it up-stairs." Thus 
 Miss Marjoribanks proved herself capable of preferring^ 
 her great work to her personal sentiments, which is 
 generally considered next to impossible for a woman. 
 She did what perhaps nobody else in the room was 
 capable of doing : she sent away the gentleman who 
 was paying attention to her, in company with the girl 
 who was paying attention to him ; and at that moment, 
 as was usual when she was excited, Barbara was splen- 
 did, with her crimson cheeks, and the eyes blazing out
 
 MISS MAEJORIBANKS. 177 
 
 from under her level eyebrows. This Miss Marjori- 
 banks did, not in ignorance, but with a perfect sense 
 of what she was about. It was the only way of pre- 
 venting her Evening from losing its distinctive charac- 
 ter. It was the Lamp of sacrifice which Liicilla had 
 now to employ, and she proved herself capable of the 
 exertion. But it would be hopeless to attempt to 
 describe the indignation of old Mrs Chiley, or the un- 
 mitigated amazement of the company in general, which 
 was conscious at the same time that Mr Cavendish 
 was paying attention to Miss Marjoribanks, and that 
 he had been flirting in an inexcusable manner with 
 Miss Lake. " My dear, I would have nothing to do 
 with that bold girl," Mrs Chiley said in Lucilla's ear. 
 " I will go down and look after them if you like. A 
 girl like that always leads the gentlemen astray, you 
 know. I never liked the looks of her. Let me go 
 down-stairs and look after them, my dear. I am sure 
 I want a cup of tea." 
 
 " You shall have a cup of tea, dear Mrs Chiley," 
 said jNIiss Marjoribanks — " some of them will bring 
 you one ; but I can't let you take any trouble about 
 Barbara. She had to be stopped, you know, or she 
 would have turned us into a musical party ; and as for 
 Mr Cavendish, he is the best assistant I have. There 
 are so few men in Carlingford who can flirt," said 
 Lucilla, regretfully. Her eyes fell as she spoke upon 
 
 VOL. I. M
 
 178 CHRONICLES OF CARLINGFORD : j 
 
 young Osmond Brown, who was actually at that mo- 
 ment talking to Mr Bury's curate, with a disregard 
 of his social duties painful to contemplate. Poor ■ 
 Osmond started when he met Miss Marjoribanks's '\ 
 reproachful eye. 
 
 " But then I don't know how/' said the disconcerted ' 
 youth, — and he blushed, poor boy, being only eighteen, j 
 and not much more than a schoolboy. As for Lucilla, | 
 who had no intention of putting up with that sort of | 
 thing, she sent off the curate summarily for Mrs Chiley's 
 cup of tea. 
 
 " I did not mean you, my dear Osy," she said, in i 
 her motherly tone. " When you are a little older we - 
 shall see what you can do ; but you are not at all dis- i 
 agreeable for a boy," she added encouragingly, and took • 
 Osmond's arm as she made her progress down the i 
 room with an indulgence worthy of her maturer years : ^ 
 and even Mrs Centum and ]\Irs Woodburn and the i 
 Miss Browns, who were, in a manner, Lucilla's natural, i 
 rivals, could not but be impressed with this evidence 
 of her powers. They were like the Tuscan chivalry in | 
 the ballad, who could scarce forbear a cheer at the \ 
 sight of their opponent's prowess. Perhaps nothing ^ 
 that she could have done would have so clearly demon- ; 
 strated the superiority of her genius to her female ; 
 audience as that bold step of stopping the music, which | 
 began to be too much, by sending off the singer down- i 
 
 i
 
 MISS MAEJOKIBANKS. 179 
 
 stairs under charge of 'Mr Cavendish. To be sure the 
 men did not even find out what it was that awoke 
 the ladies' attention ; but then, in delicate matters 
 of social politics, one never expects to be understood 
 by them. 
 
 Barbara Lake, as was to be expected, took a very long 
 time over her cup of tea ; and even when she returned 
 up-stairs she made another pause on the landing, which 
 was still kept possession of by a lively stream of young 
 people coming and going. Barbara had very little ex- 
 perience, and she was weak enough to believe that Mr 
 Cavendish lingered there to have a little more of her 
 society all to himself ; but to tell the truth, his senti- 
 ments were of a very different description. For by 
 this time it must be owned that Barbara's admirer 
 began to feel a little ashamed of himself. He could 
 not but be conscious of Lucilla's magnanimity ; and, 
 at the same time, he was very well aware that his re- 
 turn with his present companion would be watched 
 and noted and made the subject of comment a great 
 deal more amusinof than af]jreeable. When he did take 
 Barbara in at last, it was with a discomfited air which 
 tickled the spectators beyond measure. And as his 
 ^vil luck would have it, notwithstanding the long pause 
 he had made on the landing, to watch his opportunity 
 of entering unobserved, jNIiss Marjoribanks was the 
 first to encounter the returning couple. They met
 
 ISO CHEONICLES OF CAELINGFORD : 
 
 full in the face, a few paces from tlie door — exactly, as 
 ]\Irs Chiley said, as if it had been Mr and Mrs Caven- 
 dish on their wedding visit, and the lady of the house 
 had gone to meet them. As for the unfortunate gen-» 
 tleman, he could not have looked more utterly discon- 
 certed and guilty if he had been convicted of putting 
 the spoons in his pocket, or of having designs upon the 
 silver tea-service. He found a seat for his companion 
 with all the haste possible ; and instead of lingering 
 by her side, as she had anticipated, made off on the 
 instant, and hid himself like a criminal in the dark 
 depths of a group of men who were talking together 
 near the door. These were men who were hopeless, 
 and good for nothing but to talk to each other, and 
 whom Miss Marjoribanks tolerated in her drawing- 
 room partly because their wives, with an excusable 
 weakness, insisted on bringing them, and partly be- 
 cause they made a foil to the brighter part of the com- 
 pany, and served as a butt when anybody wanted to be 
 witty. As for Lucilla, she made no effort to recall the 
 truant from the ranks of the Incurables. It was th"^ 
 only vengeance she took upon his desertion. When 
 he came to take leave of her, she was standing with 
 her hand in that of Mrs Chiley, who was also going 
 away. " I confess I was a little nervous this evening," 
 Miss Marjoribanks w^as saying. " You know it is al- 
 ways the second that is the test. But I think,
 
 MISS M.VRJOlilBANKS. 181 
 
 whole, it has gone off very well. Mr Cavendish, you 
 promised to tell me the truth ; for you know I have 
 great confidence in your judgment. Tell me sin- 
 cerely, do you think it has been a pleasant evening ? "' 
 Lucilla said, with a beautiful earnestness, looking him 
 in the face. 
 
 The guilty individual to whom this question was 
 addressed felt disposed to sink into the earth, if the 
 earth, in the shape of Mr Holden's beautiful new 
 carpet, would but have opened to receive him ; but, 
 after all, that was perhaps not a thing to be desired 
 under the circumstances. Mr Cavendish, however, was 
 a man of resources, and not disposed to give up the 
 contest without striking a blow in his own defence. 
 
 ''Not so pleasant as last Thursday," he said. "I 
 am not fit to be a lady's adviser, for I am too sincere ; 
 but I incline to think it is the third that is the test," 
 said the future ^I.P. ; and Lucilla made him, as Mrs 
 Chiley remarked, the most beautiful curtsy ; but then 
 nothing could be more delightful than the manner in 
 which that dear girl behaved through the whole affair. 
 
 " If everybody would only help me as you do ! " 
 said Miss Marjoribanks. "Good -night; I am so 
 sorry you have not enjoyed yourself. But then it is 
 such a consolation to meet with people that are sincere. 
 And I think, on the whole, it has gone off very well 
 v-^ t^e second," said Lucilla, "though I say it that
 
 182 CHRONICLES OF CAELINGFORD : 
 
 should not say it." The fact was, it had gone off so 
 well that the house could hardly be cleared of the 
 amiable and satisfied guests. A series of the most 
 enthusiastic compliments were paid to Lucilla as she 
 stood in state in the middle of the room, and bade 
 everybody good-bye. " Next Thursday," she said, with 
 the benevolent grace of an acknowledged sovereign. 
 And when they were all gone, Miss Marjoribanks's 
 reflections, as she stood alone in the centre of her 
 domains, were of a nature very different from the usual 
 reflections which the giver of a feast is supposed to 
 make when all is over. But then, as everybody is 
 aware, it was not a selfish desire for personal pleasure, 
 nor any scheme of worldly ambition, which moved the 
 mind of Lucilla. With such motives it is only natural 
 that the conclusion, " All is vanity," should occur to 
 the weary entertainer in the midst of his withered 
 flowers and extinguished lights. Such ideas had no- 
 thing in common with the enlightened conceptions of 
 Miss Marjoribanks. Perhaps it would be false to say 
 that she had suffered in the course of this second 
 Thursday, or that a superior intelligence like Lucilla's 
 could permit itself to feel any jealousy of Barbara 
 Lake ; but it would be vain to deny that she had 
 been surprised. And any one who knows Miss Mar- 
 joribanks will acknowledge that a great deal was im- 
 plied in that confession. But then she had triumphed
 
 MISS MARJOEIBANKS. 183 
 
 over the weakness, and triumphantly proved that her 
 estimate of the importance of her work went far be- 
 yond the influence of mere personal feeling. In these 
 circumstances Lucilla could contemplate her withered 
 flowers with perfect calmness, without any thought 
 that all was vanity. But then the fact was. Miss 
 Marjoribanks was accomplishing a great public duty, 
 and at the same time had the unspeakable consolation 
 of knowing that she had proved herself a comfort to 
 her dear papa. The Doctor, it is true, after looking 
 on for a little with a half-amused consciousness that 
 his own assistance was totally unnecessary, had gradu- 
 ally veered into a corner, and from thence had finally 
 managed to escape down-stairs to his beloved library. 
 But then the sense of security and tranquillity with 
 which he established himself at the fire, undisturbed 
 by the gay storm that raged outside, gave a certain 
 charm to his retirement. He rubbed his hands and 
 listened, as a man listens to the wind howling out-of- 
 doors, when he is in shelter and comfort. So that, 
 after all, Lucilla's sensation of having accomplished her 
 filial duties in the most eff'ective manner was to a cer- 
 tain extent justified, while at the same time it is quite 
 certain that nobody missed Dr Maijoribanks from the 
 pleasant assembly up-stairs.
 
 CHAPTEE XIII. 
 
 It was thus that the reign of Miss Marjoribanks be- 
 came gradually established and confirmed in Carling- 
 ford. It would be unnecessary to enter into detail, or 
 to redouble instances of that singular genius which 
 made itself so fully felt to the farthest limits of society, 
 and which even indeed extended those limits mir- 
 aculously beyond the magic circle of Grange Lane. 
 Lucilla's powers beguiled not only the Powells and 
 Sir John Eichmond's family, who were, as everybody 
 knows, fully entitled to be called county people, and 
 came only on the Thursdays when there was moonlight 
 to light them home, which was not so much to be 
 wondered at, since county society in those parts was 
 unusually heavy at that period ; but even, what was 
 more extraordinary, Miss Marjoribanks made a lodg- 
 ment in the enemy's country on the other side, and 
 made a capture, of all people in the world, of John 
 Brown, who lived in his father's bio; old house at the
 
 IkllSS MARJORIBANKS. J 85 
 
 toiuii end of George Street, and had always laughed in 
 his cynical way at the pretensions of Grange Lane. 
 But then Lucilla had, as all the ladies admitted, an 
 influence over " the gentlemen," of which, as was natu- 
 ral, they were slightly contemptuous, even if perhaps 
 envious, to some extent, of the gift. For every- 
 body knows that it requires very little to satisfy the 
 gentlemen, if a woman will only give her mind to it. 
 As for Miss Maijoribanks herself, she confessed frankly 
 that she did her best to please Them. '' For you know, 
 after all, in Carlingford, one is obliged to take them 
 into consideration,'' she said, with a natural apology. 
 " So many of you poor dear people have to go where 
 they like, and see the people they want you to see," 
 Miss Marjoribanks added, fluttering her maiden plumes 
 with a certain disdainful pity in the very eyes of Mrs 
 Centum and Mrs Woodburn, who were well aware, 
 both of them, at the bottom of their hearts, that but 
 for Dr Marjoribanks's dinners, their selfish mates 
 would find infinite objections to the Thursday even- 
 ing, which was now an institution in Carlingford. 
 And Lucilla knew it just as well as they did, which 
 gave a certain sense of condescension and superiority 
 to her frankness. '' I never pretend I don't try to 
 please them," Miss Marjoribanks said ; and the ma- 
 trons found themselves worsted as usual ; for, to 
 be sure, it was not for Thera, but for the good of the
 
 186 CHRONICLES OF CAELINGFORD : 
 
 community in general, that Lucilla exerted herself so 
 successfully. 
 
 ISTothing, indeed, could have proved more com- 
 pletely the disinterested character of Miss Marjori- i 
 banks's proceedings than her behaviour in respect to j 
 Mr Cavendish. After the bold and decisive action i 
 taken by Lucilla on the first occasion when the flir- 
 tation between him and Barbara Lake became appar- , 
 ent, the misguided young man returned to a better ' 
 frame of mind ; perhaps out of admiration for her 
 magnanimity, perhaps attracted by her indifiTerence, \ 
 as is the known and ascertained weakness of the ; 
 gentlemen. And perhaps also Mr Cavendish was j 
 ashamed of himself, as, in Mrs Chiley's opinion at \ 
 least, he had so much reason to be. Anyhow, what- ' 
 ever the cause, he behaved himself with the profoundest ' 
 decorum for several weeks in succession, and treated j 
 the contralto with such overwhelming politeness as 
 reduced poor Barbara out of her momentary exulta- 
 tion into the depths of humiliation and despair. Mr 
 Cavendish was Lu cilia's right hand for that short but 
 virtuous period, and fully justified Miss Marjoribanks's 
 opinion, which was founded at once upon reflection 
 and experience, that to have a man who can flirt is 
 next thing to indispensable to a leader of society ; that 
 is to say, if he is under eflScient discipline, and capable 
 of carrying out a grand conception. Everything went
 
 MISS MARJOKIBANKS. 187 
 
 on delightfully so long as this interval lasted, and Lu- 
 cilla herself did not disdain to recompense her faithful 
 assistant by bestowing upon him various little privi- 
 leges, such as naturally appertain to a subject whose 
 place is on the steps of the throne. She took him into 
 her confidence, and made him to a certain extent a 
 party to her large and philanthropic projects, and even 
 now and then accepted a suggestion from him with 
 that true candour and modesty which so often accom- 
 pany administrative genius. While this continued, 
 kind old Mrs Chiley kept caressing them both in her 
 old-womanly way. She even went so far as to call 
 Mr Cavendish " my dear," as if he had been a grand- 
 son of her own, and took her afternoon drive in her 
 little brougham past his house with a genial sense of 
 prospective property through Lucilla, which was won- 
 derfully pleasant. To be sure there was not very much 
 known in Carlingford about his connections ; but then 
 everybody was aware that he was one of the Caven- 
 dishes, and the people who are not content with that 
 must be hard indeed to please. As for Mrs Wood- 
 bum, she, it was true, continued to '' take off" Miss 
 Marjoribanks; but then, as Mrs Chiley justly remarked, 
 she was a woman who would take off the Archbishop 
 of Canterbury or the Virgin Mary, if she had the oppor- 
 tunity ; and there was no fear but Lucilla, if once 
 married, would soon bring her to her senses ; and then
 
 188 CHRONICLES OF CAELINGFORD : i 
 
 Mr Chiltern grew more and more feeble, and was ' 
 scarcely once in a fortnight in his place in Parliament, | 
 which was a sacrifice of the interests of the borough j 
 dreadful to contemplate. And thus it was in the in- \ 
 terests of Lucilla, notwithstanding that ladies are not \ 
 eligible for election under such circumstances, that 
 Mrs Chiley carried on a quiet little canvass for the \ 
 future M.P. j 
 
 All this lasted, alas ! only too short a time. After ■ 
 a while the level eyebrows and flashing eyes and: 
 magnificent voice of Barbara Lake began to reassert; 
 their ancient power. Whatever may be the predis-j 
 position of the Cavendishes in general, this particular i 
 member of the race was unable to resist these influ- 
 ences. Barbara had managed to persuade Eose to 
 persuade her father that it was necessary for her to \ 
 have a new dress ; and Mr Lake was more persuad- ' 
 able than usual, being naturally pleased to be com-' 
 plimented, when he went to give his lessons, on his] 
 
 daughter's beautiful voice. " Her talent has taken ! 
 
 i 
 another development from ours," he said, with his| 
 
 little air of dignity, " but still she has the artist tern- 1 
 
 perament. All my children have been brought up to' 
 
 love the beautiful ; " and this argument had, of course, j 
 
 all the more effect upon him when repeated by his, 
 
 favourite daughter. "And then Barbara has such a! 
 
 noble head," said Rose; "when nobody is looking at I
 
 MISS MARJOEIBANKS. 189 
 
 her she always makes a fine composition. To be sure, 
 when she is observed she gets awkward, and puts her- 
 self out of drawing ; but that is not to be wondered 
 at. I don't want her to be fine, or to imitate the 
 Grange Lane people ; but then, you know, papa, you 
 always say that we have a rank of our own, being a 
 family of artists/' said Rose, holding up her little head 
 with a pretty arrogance which delighted the father both 
 in a paternal and a professional point of view. " If 
 one could only have made a study of her at that mo- 
 ment," he said to himself, regretfully ; and he con- 
 sented to Barbara's dress. 
 
 As for the contralto, whose sentiments were very 
 different from those of her father and sister, she 
 watched over the making of the robe thus procured 
 with a certain jealous care which nobody unacquainted 
 with the habits of a family of artists could under- 
 stand. Barbara's talent was not sufficiently devel- 
 oped to permit of her making it herself; but she 
 knew already by sad exjDerience that Rose's views 
 of what was picturesque in costume were peculiar, 
 and not always successful. And then it was only 
 a new dress to Rose, whereas to Barbara it was a 
 supreme effort of passion and ambition and jealousy 
 and wounded amour propre. Mr Cavendish had paid 
 a great deal of attention to her, and she had naturally 
 entertained dreams of the wildest and most magni-
 
 190 CHRONICLES OF CARLINGFORD : \ 
 
 8 
 
 ficent character — of riding in her carriage, as she would : 
 herself have said, and dressing as nobody else dressed 
 in Carlingford, and becoming the great lady of the '' 
 town, and eclipsing utterly Lucilla Marjoribanks, who ^ 
 had been so impertinent as to patronise her. Such '. 
 had been Barbara's delicious dreams for a whole fort- \ 
 night ; and then Mr Cavendish, who had taken her up, ; 
 
 put her down again, and went away from her side, and ; 
 
 I 
 
 delivered himself over, heart and soul, to the service of I 
 
 i 
 
 Lucilla. Barbara had no intellect to speak of, but she ; 
 had what she called a heart — that is to say, a vital cen- 
 tre of inclinations and passions, all of which were set 
 in motion by that intense force of self-regard which 
 belongs to some of the lower organisations. Thus she j 
 arrayed herself, not in simple muslin, but in all the ; 
 power of fascination which a strong will and fixed ; 
 purpose can add to beauty. And in her excitement, I 
 and with the sense she had that this was her oppor- ; 
 tunity, and that advancement and grandeur depended^; 
 upon the result of her night's work, her level eyebrows, ; 
 and flushing cheeks, and black intense eyes, rose! 
 almost into positive beauty. There was nobody in the 
 room to compare with her when she stood up to singj 
 on that memorable evening. The Miss Browns, forj 
 example, were very pretty, especially Lydia, who was ' 
 afterwards married to young Richmond, Sir John's- 
 eldest son ; and they were much oiicer girls, and|
 
 MISS MAEJOKIBANKS. 191 
 
 far more engaging than Barbara Lake, who was 
 not even a lady, Mrs Chiley said. But then her de- 
 termination, though it was a poor enough thing in 
 itself, gave a certain glow and passion to her coarser 
 beauty. 
 
 When she stood up to sing, the whole room was 
 struck mth her appearance. She had her new dress on, 
 and though it was only white muslin like other people's, 
 it gave her the air of a priestess inspired by some ap- 
 proaching crisis, and sweeping forward upon the victim 
 who was ready to be sacrificed. And yet the victim 
 that night was far from being ready for the sacrifice. 
 On the contrary, he had been thinking it all over, and 
 had concluded that prudence and every other reason- 
 able sentiment were on the other side, and that in 
 many ways it would be a very good thing for him 
 if he could persuade Miss Marjoribanks to preside over 
 and share his fortunes. He had made up his mind to 
 this with all the more certainty that he was a man 
 habitually prone to run off after everything that at- 
 tracted him, in direct opposition to prudence — an inclin- 
 ation which he shared with his sister, who, as everybody 
 knew, had ruined poor Mr Woodburn's fortunes by 
 " taking off," before his very face, the only rich uncle 
 in the Woodbum family. Mr Cavendish, with this 
 wise resolution in his mind, stood up in the very path 
 of the contralto as she followed Miss Marjoribanks to
 
 192 CHEONICLES OF CAELINGFOED : 
 
 the piano, and, confident in his determination, even 
 allowed himself to meet her eye — which was rash, to say 
 the least of it. Barbara flashed upon him as she passed 
 a blaze of intense oblique lightning from under her 
 level brows — or perhaps it was only that straight black 
 line which made it look oblique — and then went on to 
 her place. The result was such as might have been 
 anticipated from the character of the man. Barbara 
 was in richer voice than ever before, and all but oblit- 
 erated even Lucilla, though she too was singing her 
 best ; and thus poor Mr Cavendish again fell into the 
 snare. That very night the flirtation, which had 
 already created so much talk, was resumed with more 
 energy than ever ; and Barbara took Miss Marjori- 
 banks's place at the piano, and sang song after song in 
 a kind of intoxication of triumph. This, to be sure, 
 was visible only to a small portion of the guests who 
 crowded LuciUa's drawing-room. But the result was 
 soon so visible that all Carlingford became aware of 
 it. The hero wavered so much that the excitement 
 was kept up for many weeks ; but still from the first 
 nobody could have any reasonable doubt as to how it 
 was to end. 
 
 And it was while this process of seduction was going 
 on that the character of Miss Maijoribanks revealed 
 itself in all its native grandeur. Lucilla had various 
 kind friends round her to advise her, and especially old
 
 MISS MAEJORIBANKS. 193 
 
 ]\Irs Chiley, whose indignation went beyond all bounds. 
 " My dear, I would never let her enter my door again 
 — never ! " cried the old lady ; " I told you long ago 
 I never could bear her looks — you know I warned you, 
 Lucilla. As for her sino-inoj, what does it matter ? 
 You have a much prettier voice than she has : every- 
 body knows that a soprano is perfect by itself, but a 
 contralto is only a second !' Mrs Chiley said, with 
 mingled wrath and satisfaction ; " and, my dear, I 
 should never let her enter my house gain, if it was 
 me.' 
 
 " Dear Mrs Chiley," said Lucilla, who was now, as 
 usual, equal to the occasion, " it is so nice of you to be 
 vexed. You know I would do anything to please you ; 
 — but, after all, there are thousands and thousands of 
 gentlemen, and it is not so easy to find a voice that 
 goes with mine. All my masters always said it was a 
 quite peculiar second I wanted ; and suppose Barbara 
 is foolish, that is not to say I should forget my duties," 
 Miss Marjoribanks added, witli a certain solemnity; 
 " and then, you know, she has no mother to keep her 
 right." 
 
 "And neither have you, my poor dear," said Mrs 
 Chiley, kissing her proUgee. As for Lucilla, she ac- 
 cepted the kiss, but repressed the enthusiasm of par- 
 tisanship with which her cause was being maintained. 
 
 " I have you,'' she said, with artless gratitude ; " and 
 VOL. I. N
 
 194 CHRONICLES OF CAELINGFORD : 
 
 then I am different," added Lucilla. Nothing but 
 modesty of the most delicate description could have 
 expressed the fact with such a fine reticence. No doubt 
 Miss Marjoribanks was different ; and she proved her 
 superiority, if anybody could have doubted it, by the 
 most beautiful behaviour. She took no more notice of 
 the unprincipled flirtation thus set agoing under her 
 very eyes, than if Mr Cavendish and Barbara Lake had 
 been two figures in gingerbread. So far as anybody 
 knew, not even a flying female shaft from Lucilla's 
 bow, one of those dainty projectiles which the best of 
 women cast forth by times, had ever been directed 
 against the ungrateful young person who had made 
 so unprincipled a use of her admittance into Grange 
 Lane ; and the faithless gallant had not even the gra- 
 tification of feeling that Lucilla was "cool" to him. 
 Whether this singular self-denial cost Miss Marjori- 
 banks any acute sufferings, nobody could tell, but 
 Mrs Chiley still marked with satisfaction that Lu- 
 cilla, poor dear, was able to eat her dinner, of which 
 she had so much need to support her strength ; and 
 after she had eaten her dinner Miss Marjoribanks 
 would go up-stairs and show herself just as usual. 
 She was in perfect voice, and neither lost her colour, 
 nor grew thin, nor showed any of those external signs 
 of a disappointment in love with which most people 
 are familiar. " It might have been difi'erent, you
 
 MISS MAEJOKIBANKS. 195 
 
 know, if my affections had been engaged," she said to 
 her sole and sympathising counsellor; and Mrs Chiley, 
 who had had a great deal of experience in girls, be- 
 came more and more of opinion that such sense was 
 all but superhuman. 
 
 Meantime the tide of public opinion ran very 
 high in Carlingford against Mr Cavendish, who had 
 been so popular a little while before. If it had 
 been one of the Miss Browns, or a niece of the Col- 
 onel's, or indeed anybody in Grange Lane, people 
 might have passed over it — but one of Mr Lake the 
 drawing-master's daughters ! The only person indif- 
 ferent was Mrs Woodburn, who ought to have known 
 better ; but then she was thoughtless, like her brother, 
 and liked it all the better, on the whole, that he 
 should transfer those attentions which he had been 
 paying to Miss Marjoribanks, and which in that quarter 
 must have come to something, to a little harmless 
 amusement with Barbara, who, after all, was very 
 handsome, and had by times a little air of obdurate 
 stupidity which captivated the mimic. As for anything 
 coming of that, Mrs Woodburn rejected the idea with 
 a simplicity which was perfectly consistent with her 
 insight into other people's weaknesses. She could put 
 on Barbara's stolid defiant look, and even make her 
 eyebrows square, and give something of an oblique 
 gleam to her eyes, with the most perfect skill and mas-
 
 196 CHRONICLES OF CAELINGFOED : 
 
 tery of the character, and at the same time be just as 
 stolid as Barbara in respect to what was going on at 
 her very hand, and to the consequences which must 
 follow. She did not want her brother to marry Miss 
 Marjoribanks, and yet she could not have said a word 
 against so unexceptionable a match ; and accordingly 
 it was quite a satisfaction to her to see him turned 
 aside in so perfectly legitimate a manner. She added 
 to her repertory a sketch of Barbara at the moment 
 when, yielding to Mr Cavendish's entreaties, she seated 
 herself at the piano " for just one song ; " and being 
 perfectly successful in the representation, Mrs Wood- 
 burn took no further care about the matter. To be 
 sure, the hero was sufficiently experienced in such 
 matters to know how to get out of it when it should 
 be the j)roper time. 
 
 Thus the affair progressed which was to have far 
 more serious consequences than these thoughtless 
 persons dreamed* of Barbara, ascended again to the 
 heights of exultation and enchantment. Perhaps 
 she was even a little in love ; for, after all, she was 
 young, and grateful to the man who thus distin- 
 guished her from the world. Yet, on the whole, it 
 is to be feared that his house and his position in 
 society, and the prospect of unlimited millinery, were 
 more to her than Mr Cavendish. All these details 
 were not perhaps contemplated by himself as he
 
 MISS MARJORIBANKS. 197 
 
 devoted himself to the handsome contralto. He had 
 not begun to dream, as Barbara had done for a long 
 time, of the wedding breakfast and the orange blos- 
 soms, or even of furnishing a new drawing-room 
 handsomer than Miss Marjoribanks's, and giving 
 parties which should be real parties and not mere 
 Thursdays. None of these imaginations occupied Mr 
 Cavendish as he followed Barbara's glowing cheeks 
 and flashing eyes to his undoing. But then if he 
 did not mean it she meant it ; and, after all, there are 
 occasions in which the woman's determination is the 
 more important of the two. So that, taking every- 
 thing into consideration, there can be no doubt that 
 it was very fortunate that Lucilla's affections were 
 not engaged. She behaved as nobody else in Car- 
 lingford was capable of behaving, and very few people 
 anywhere, according to Mrs Chiley's admiring belief. 
 It was not for a vulgar antagonist like Barbara Lake 
 to touch Lucilla. The way in which she asked her to 
 lunch and went on practising duets with her was 
 angelical — it brought the tears to Mrs Chiley's eyes ; 
 and as for the domestic traitor whom Miss Mar- 
 joribanks thus contrived to warm in her magnani- 
 mous bosom, she was sometimes so full of spite and 
 disappointment that she could neither eat her lunch 
 nor go on with her singing. For, to be sure, the 
 dearest climax of her triumph was wanting so long as
 
 198 CHRONICLES OF CAKLINGFORD. 
 
 Lucilla took no notice ; and so far from taking any 
 notice, Miss Marjoribanks was sweeter and more 
 friendly than usual in her serene unconsciousness. 
 " I am so afraid you have caught cold," Lucilla would 
 say ; " if you don't feel clear in your lower notes, we 
 can pass over this passage, you know, for to-day. 
 You must see papa before you go away, and he will 
 order you something ; but, my dear Barbara, you 
 must take care." And then Barbara could have eaten 
 her fingers instead of the gloves which she kept 
 biting in her vexation. For, to tell the truth, if Miss 
 Marjoribanks was not jealous, the victory was but half 
 a victory after all.
 
 CHAPTEE XIV. 
 
 It was thus that Miss Maijoribanks went through all 
 the preliminary stages, and succeeded finally in mak- 
 ing a triumph out of what would certainly have been 
 a defeat, and a humbling defeat, for anybody else. 
 She was much too sensible to deceive herself on the 
 subject, or not to be aware that to have a gentle- 
 man who was paying attention to her withdrawn 
 from her side in this open manner in the sight of 
 all the world, was as trying an accident as can happen 
 to a woman. Fortunately, as Lucilla said, her affec- 
 tions were not engaged ; but then, apart from the 
 affections, there are other sentiments which demand 
 consideration. Everybody in Carlingford knew that Mr 
 Cavendish had been paying her a great deal of atten- 
 tion, and the situation was one which required the 
 most delicate skill to get through it successfully. 
 Besides, Miss Marjoribanks's circumstances were all 
 the more difficult, since up to this moment she had
 
 200 CHRONICLES OF CAELINGFOED : 
 
 been perfectly sincere and natural in all lier proceed- 
 ings. Policy had been constantly inspired and backed 
 by nature in the measures Lucilla had taken for the 
 organisation and welfare of her kingdom, and even 
 what people took for the cleverest calculation was in 
 reality a succession of happy instincts, by means of 
 which, with the sovereignty of true genius, Miss 
 Marjoribanks managed to please everybody by having 
 her own way. A little victory is almost necessary to 
 begin with, and it is a poor nature that does not 
 expand under the stimulus of victory; but now the 
 young reformer had come to the second stage. For, 
 to be sure, that sort of thing cannot last for ever ; 
 and this Lucilla, with the natural prevision of a ruling 
 mind, had foreseen from the beginning. The shape 
 in which she had feared defeat, if a nature so full 
 of resources could ever be said to fear, was that of 
 a breakdown, when all the world was looking to her 
 for amusement, or the sudden appearance of a rival 
 entertainer in Carlingford with superior powers : 
 though the last was but a dim and improbable dan- 
 ger, the first was quite possible, and might have 
 arrived at any moment. Miss Marjoribanks was 
 much too sensible not to have foreseen this danger in 
 all its shapes, and even in a kind of a way to have 
 provided against it. But Providence, which had al- 
 ways taken care of her, as Lucilla piously concluded,
 
 MISS MAEJORIBANKS. 201 
 
 had spared her the trial in that form. Up to this 
 moment it had always providentially happened that 
 all the principal people in Carlingford were quite 
 well and disengaged on the "evening." To be sure, 
 the ladies had headaches, and the married gentle- 
 men now and then WTre out of temper in Grange Lane 
 as in other less favoured places ; but these social ac- 
 cidents had been mercifully averted on Thursdays, 
 perhaps by means of some special celestial agency, 
 perhaps only through that good-luck which had been 
 born with Lucilla. Not in this vulgar and likely 
 manner was the trial of her strength to come. 
 
 But when she was at the height of her success, and 
 full in the eye of the world, and knew that everybody 
 was remarking her, and that from the sauces for which 
 the Doctor's table was once so famed, but which even 
 Colonel Chiley no longer thought of identifying as 
 Dr Marjoribanks's, to the fashion of the high white 
 frock in which Lucilla had taught the young ladies of 
 Carhngford to appear of an evening, she was being 
 imitated on every hand, — at that moment, when an 
 ordinary person would have had her head turned, 
 and gone wild with too much success. Miss Marjo- 
 ribanks suddenly saw her dragon approaching her. 
 Just then, when she could not put on a new ribbon, 
 or do her hair in a different style, without all Car- 
 lingford knowing of it — at that epoch of intoxication
 
 202 CHRONICLES OF CARLINGFORD : 
 
 and triumph the danger came, sudden, appalling, and 
 unlocked for. If Lucilla was staggered by the en- 
 counter, she never showed it, but met the difficulty 
 like a woman of mettle, and scorned to flinch. It 
 had come to be summer weather when the final 
 day arrived upon which Mr Cavendish forgot him- 
 self altogether, and went over to the insidious ene- 
 my whom Miss Marjoribanks had been nourishing in 
 her bosom. Fifty eyes were upon Lucilla watching 
 her conduct at that critical moment — fifty ears were 
 on the strain to divine her sentiments in her voice, 
 and to catch some intonation at least which should 
 betray her consciousness of what was going on. 
 
 But if Miss Marjoribanks's biographer has fitly dis- 
 charged his duty, the readers of this history will have 
 no difficulty in divining that the curiosity of the spec- 
 tators got no satisfaction from Lucilla. Many people 
 even supposed she had not remarked anything, her 
 composure was so perfect. No growing red or grow- 
 ing pale, no harsh notes in her voice, nor evidence 
 of distracted attention, betrayed that her mind was 
 elsewhere while she was attending to her guests ; and 
 yet, to be sure, she saw, just as other people did, 
 that Barbara, all flushed and crimson, with her eyes 
 blazing under their sullen brows, stood in a glow of 
 triumph at the open window, with Mr Cavendish in 
 devoted attendance — a captive at her chariot-wheels.
 
 MISS MAEJORIBANKS. 203 
 
 Matters had been progressing to this point for some 
 time ; but yet the two culprits had never before 
 showed themselves so lost to all sense of propriety. 
 Instead of fainting or gettiug pale, or showing any 
 other symptoms of violent despite, Lucilla went upon 
 her airy way, indirectly approaching this point of 
 interest. She went up and chatted with them, and 
 ordered Mr Cavendish to find a chair for Barbara. 
 " What can you be thinking of to let her stand so 
 near the window? If she were to catch cold and 
 lose her voice, what should we all do ? " said Lucilla ; 
 and she established the two in the most commodious 
 corner before she left them. " Take care she does not 
 go back again into the draught," were her parting 
 words, and even the culprits themselves could do 
 nothing but stare at each other with consternation 
 and shame. 
 
 This was all the notice Lucilla took of what was 
 going on. If she was affronted, or if she was 
 wounded, nobody found it out ; and when Mrs 
 Chiley offered the tribute of her indignation and 
 sympathy, it has already been recorded how her 
 young friend responded to her. " Fortunately 
 my affections never were engaged," Lucilla said, 
 and no doubt that was a great advantage ; but 
 then, as we have said, there are other things 
 besides affections to be taken into account when
 
 204 CHRONICLES OF CARLINGFORD : 
 
 the woman whom you have been kind to snaps 
 up the man who has been paying attention to you, 
 not only before your eyes, but before the eyes of all 
 the world. The result of her masterly conduct on 
 this occasion was that her defeat became, as we have 
 said, a triumph for Miss Marjoribanks. To be sure, 
 it is to be hoped that, in the sweets of their mutual 
 regard, the two criminals found compensation for the 
 disapproval of the spectators ; but nothing could be 
 more marked than the way in which Carlingford ! 
 turned its cold shoulder on its early favourite. " I i 
 never imagined Cavendish was such a fool," Mr Cen- ; 
 turn said, who was a man of few words ; " if he likes ' 
 that style of philandering, it is nothing to me, but j 
 he need not make an idiot of himself." As for Mr \ 
 Woodburn, he, as was natural, inflicted vicarious ! 
 punishment upon his wife. "It must be all your ■ 
 fault," he growled, when he was taking her home, and , 
 had her at his mercy, with that logic peculiar to a ' 
 married man ; " you ought to tell him he's making an 
 ass of himself. Why the deuce do you let him go on 
 with that tomfoolery ? He'U lose all his chances in : 
 life, and then, I hope, you'll be satisfied. You women | 
 can never see an inch before your own noses ! " cried 
 the uncivil husband ; which, it must be confessed, was ] 
 rather hard upon poor Mrs Woodburn, who had 
 nothing to do with it, and had indeed calculated J
 
 MISS MARJOEIBANKS. 205 
 
 Upon perfecting her sketch of Barbara in the quiet- 
 ness of the walk home ; for as everybody lived in 
 Grange Lane, carriages were not necessary for Miss 
 Marjoribanks's guests. They flitted out and in, in 
 the moonlight, with pretty scarfs thrown over their 
 heads and laced handkerchiefs tied under their 
 chins, and made Grange Lane between the two 
 straight lines of garden-wall like a scene in a mas- 
 querade. 
 
 While Mr Cavendish was thus suffering by de- 
 puty the contempt of his former admirers, Lu- 
 cilla, by herself in the abandoned drawing - room, 
 was thinkino' over the evenino; with a severe but 
 on the whole satisfactory self-examination. After 
 the first shock, which she had encountered with so 
 much courage, Miss Marjoribanks was rather grate- 
 ful than otherwise to Providence, which had brought 
 the necessary trial upon her in this form. If it had 
 been a breakdown and humiliating failure instead, 
 how different would her sensations have been ! and 
 Lucilla was quite conscious that such a thing might 
 have occurred. It might have occurred to her, as it 
 had done to so many people, to see Thursday come 
 round with a failure of all that made Thursday 
 agreeable. Lady Eichmond might have had her in- 
 fluenza that day, and little Henry Centum his sudden 
 attack, which had kept his mother in conversation
 
 206 CHRONICLES OF CARLINGFORD : \ 
 
 ever since, and Mrs Woodburn one of her bad head- i 
 aches ; and as for the Miss Browns, there was nothing 
 in the world but Lucilla's habitual good fortune which ' 
 prevented them from having blacked their fingers ; 
 with their photography to such an extent as to make . | 
 them perfectly unpresentable. Or, to turn to another \ 
 chapter of accidents, the last duet, which Barbara 
 had insisted upon singing without proper practice, 
 might have broken down utterly. None of these ; 
 things had happened, and Lucilla drew a long breath ^ 
 of gratitude as she thought how fortunate she had i 
 been in all these particulars. To be sure, it was | 
 necessary to have a trial of one kind or other ; and ^ 
 the modest but intense gratification of having stood,^ 
 the test, diffused itself like a balm through her bosom. 
 No doubt she would have felt, like most people, a ' 
 certain pleasure in snubbing Barbara ; but then there ; 
 is, on the other hand, a sweetness in sacrificing such i 
 impulses to the sacred sense of duty and the high \ 
 aims of genius which is still more attractive to a ■ 
 well-regulated mind. Miss Marjoribanks herself put , 
 out the candles, and went to her own room with that ' 
 feeling of having acquitted herself s^isfactorily which | 
 many people think to be the highest gratification of j 
 which the mind is capable. After all, it was by no \ 
 means certain that Mr Cavendish would be M.P. for \ 
 Carlingford. Mr Chiltern might live for twenty \
 
 MISS MAEJOEIBANKS. 207 
 
 years, or he even might get better, which was more 
 unlikely ; or supposing him to be comfortably dis- 
 posed of, nobody could say with any certainty that 
 some man unknown at present in Carlingford might 
 not start up all of a sudden and gain the most sweet 
 voices of the shopkeepers, who were the majority 
 of the community, and quite outnumbered Grange 
 Lane. It was thus that Lucilla consoled herself as 
 she went meditative but undaunted to her maiden rest. 
 Wliile all this was going on, Dr Marjoribanks re- 
 mained an amused spectator, and chuckled a little 
 quietly, without saying anything to anybody, over the 
 turn affairs had taken. The Doctor knew all about 
 ^everybody in Carlingford, and he had never been an 
 enthusiast in favour of Mrs Woodburn's brother, not- 
 withstanding that the young man had been received so 
 warmly into society as one of the Cavendishes. Per- 
 haps Dr Marjoribanks being Scotch, and having a turn 
 for genealogy, found the description a little vague ; 
 but at all events there can be no doubt that he laughed 
 to himself as he retired from the scene of his daughter's 
 trial The Doctor possibly thought, in a professional 
 point of view, that a little discipline of this descrip- 
 tion would be useful to Lucilla. Perhaps he thought 
 it would be n^ood for her to find out that — though she 
 had managed to slip the reins out of his hands, and 
 get the control of affairs with a skill which amused
 
 208 CHRONICLES OF CAELINGFORD : ; 
 
 the Doctor, and made him a little proud of her abilities, i 
 
 even though he was himself the victim — she could not '■ 
 
 go on always unchecked' in her triumphant career, but j 
 
 must endure like other people an occasional defeat. : 
 
 No doubt, had Lucilla been really worsted, paternal ' 
 
 feeling would have interposed, and Dr Marjoribanks i 
 
 would to some extent have suffered in her suffering ; j 
 
 but then the case was different, ajjd nobody required, 
 
 as it turned out, to suffer for Lucilla. The Doctor ] 
 
 I 
 was pleased she had shown so much spirit, and j 
 
 pleased to see how entirely she had discomfited her ' 
 
 antagonists, and turned the tables upon the " young < 
 
 puppy," in whom he had no confidence ; and withal : 
 
 Dr Marjoribanks chuckled a little in his secret hearty 
 
 over the event itself, and concluded that it would do 
 
 Lucilla good. She had vanquished Nancy, and by a 
 
 skilful jerk taken the reins out of his own experienced 
 
 hands. He was aware that he had been on the whole 
 
 very wisely governed since his abdication, but yet he was , 
 
 not sorry that the young conqueror should feel herself 
 
 human ; so that nobody except Mrs Chiley felt that 
 
 mingled rage and disappointment with which Barbara 
 
 Lake had hoped to inspire Lucilla's bosom ; and Mrs 
 
 Chiley, so to speak, had nothing to do with it. As for 
 
 Barbara herself, she returned home in a state of 
 
 mingled spite and exultation and disgust, which filled 
 
 her sister with amazement.
 
 MISS MARJORIBANKS. 209 
 
 " She is such an actor, you know," Barbara said ; 
 " she never will give in to let you know how she is 
 feeling — not if she can help 4t ; but for all that she 
 must have felt it. Nobody- could help feeling it, 
 though she carried it off so well. I knew how it 
 would be, as soon as I had on a dress that was fit to 
 be seen." 
 
 " What is it that she could not help feeling ? " said 
 Eose. " I suppose it is Lucilla you mean ? " 
 
 " I should like to know what right she had to be 
 kind to me," cried Barbara, all glowing in her sullen 
 but excited beauty ; " and invite me there, and intro- 
 duce me in her grand w^ay, as if she was any better 
 than I am ! And then to look at all her India mus- 
 lins ; but I knew it would be different as soon as I 
 had a decent dress," said the contralto, rising up to 
 contemplate herself in the little mirror over the 
 mantelpiece. 
 
 This conversation took place in Mr Lake's little 
 parlour, where, Eose had been waiting for her sister, 
 and where Barbara's white dress made an unusual 
 radiance in the dim and partially-lighted room. Eose 
 herself was all shrouded up in her morning dress, with 
 her pretty round arms and shoulders lost to the common 
 view. She had been amusing herself as she waited by 
 working at a corner of that great design which was to 
 win the prize on a later occasion. Eeaders of this 
 
 VOL. I.
 
 210 CHRONICLES OF CAELINGFOED : 
 
 history who have studied the earlier chapters will 
 remember that Rose's tastes in ornamentatioD were 
 very clearly defined for so young a person. Instead of 
 losing herself in vague garlands of impossible flowers, 
 the young artist clung with the tenacity of first love to 
 the thistle leaf, which had been the foundation of her 
 early triumphs. Her mind was full of it even while 
 she received and listened to Barbara ; whether to 
 treat it in a national point of view, bringing in the 
 rose and shamrock, which was a perfectly allowable 
 proceeding, though perhaps not original — or whether 
 she should yield to the " sweet feeling " which had 
 been so conspicuous in her flounce, in the opinion of 
 the Marlborough-House gentlemen — or whether, on 
 the contrary, she should handle the subject in a boldly 
 naturalistic way, and use her spikes with freedom, — 
 was a question which occupied at that moment all 
 Eose's faculties. Even while she asked Barbara what 
 the subject was on which Lucilla might be supposed 
 to be excited, she was within herself thinking out this 
 difficult idea — all the more difficult, perhaps, consider- 
 ing the nature of the subject, since the design in this 
 case was not for a flounce, in which broad handling is 
 practicable, but for a veil. 
 
 " I wish you would not talk in that foolish way,'' 
 said Eose ; " nobody need be any better than you, as 
 you say. To be sure, we don't live in Grange Lane,
 
 MISS MARJORIBANKS. 211 
 
 nor keep a carriage ; but I wish you would recollect 
 that these are only accidental circumstances. As for 
 dress, I don't see that you require it ; our position is 
 so clearly defined ; we are a family of " 
 
 " Oh, for goodness gracious sake, do be quiet with 
 your family of artists ! " cried Barbara. " Speak for 
 yourself, if you please. I am not an artist, and never 
 will be, I can tell you. There are better places to 
 live in than Grange Lane ; and as for keeping a car- 
 riage, I would never call a little bit of a brougham a 
 carriage, if it was me. Lucilla made believe to take 
 no notice, but she did not deceive me with that. She 
 was as disappointed as ever she could be — I daresay 
 now she's sitting crying over it. I never would have 
 cared one straw if I had not wanted to serve Lucilla 
 out ! " cried the contralto, with energy. She was still 
 standing before the glass pulling her black hair about 
 into new combinations, and studying the effect ; and 
 as for Eose, she too looked up, and, seeing her sister's 
 face reflected in the glass, made the discovery that 
 there was something like grimace in the countenance, 
 and paused in the midst of her meditations with her 
 pencil in her hand. 
 
 " Don't put yourself out of drawing," said Eose ; 
 " I wish you would not do that so often. When the 
 
 facial angle is disturbed to that extent But 
 
 about Lucilla, I think you are excessively ungrateful.
 
 212 CHRONICLES OF CARLINGFORD : 
 
 Gratitude is not a servile sentiment/' said the little 
 Preraphaelite, with a rising colour. "It is a slavish 
 sort of idea to think any one has done you an injury 
 by being kind to you. If that is the sort of thing you 
 are going to talk of, I think you had better go to bed." 
 
 " Then I will, and I sha'n't tell you anything/' said 
 Barbara, angrily — " you are so poor-spirited. For my 
 part, do you think I'd ever have gone to help Lucilla 
 and sing for her, and all that sort of thing, if it had 
 not been to better myself? Nor I wouldn't have 
 thought of him just at first, if it hadn't been to spite 
 her. And I've done it too. I'd just like to look in at 
 her room window and see what she's about. I daresay 
 she is crying her eyes out, for all her looking as if she 
 took no notice. I know better than to think she 
 doesn't care. And, Eose, he's such a dear,"" said 
 Barbara, with a laugh of excitement. To be sure, 
 what she wanted was to be Mrs Cavendish, and to 
 have a handsome house and a great many nice dresses ; 
 but at the same time she was young, and Mr Caven- 
 dish was good-looking, and she was a little in love, in 
 her way, as well. 
 
 " I don't want to hear any more about it," said 
 Eose, who was so much moved as to forget even her 
 design. " I can't think how it is you have no sense 
 of honour, and you one of the Lakes. I would not be 
 a traitor for a dozen Mr Cavendishes 1 " cried Eose,
 
 MISS MABJORIBANKS. 213 
 
 in the force of her indignation. " He must be a cheat, 
 since you are a traitor. If he was a true man he 
 would have found you out." 
 
 " You had better be quiet, Eose," said Barbara ; 
 '' you may be sure I shall never do anything for you 
 after we are married, if you talk like that ; and then 
 you'll be sorry enough." 
 
 "After you are married! has he asked you to marry 
 him ? " cried Eose. She pushed away her design with 
 both her hands in the vehemence of her feelings, and 
 regarded her sister with eyes which blazed, but which 
 were totally different in their blazing from those which 
 burned under Barbara's level eyebrows. It was too 
 plain a question to have a plain answer. Barbara only 
 lighted her candle in reply, and smiled and shook her 
 head. 
 
 "You don't suppose I am going to answer after 
 your insulting ways," she said, taking up her candle ; 
 and she swept out of the room in her white dress with 
 a sense of pleasure in leaving this grand point un- 
 settled. To be sure, Mr Cavendish had not yet asked 
 that important question ; but then the future was all 
 before them, and the way clear. As for Eose, she 
 clenched her little fists with a gesture that would have 
 been too forcible for any one who was not an artist, 
 and a member of a family of artists. " To think she 
 should be one of us, and not to know what honour
 
 214 CHRONICLES OF CARLINGFORD. 
 
 means/' said Eose ; " and as for this man, he must be 
 a cheat himself, or he would find her out." 
 
 This was how Mr Cavendish's defection from Lu- 
 cilla took place ; and at the same time it is a satisfac- 
 tion to know that the event was received by everybody 
 very much as little Eose Lake received it. And as 
 for Miss Marjoribanks, if Barbara could have had the 
 malicious satisfaction of looking in at the window, she 
 would have been mortified to find that right-minded 
 young woman sleeping the sleep of the just and inno- 
 cent, and enjoying repose as profound and agreeable 
 as if there had been no Mr Cavendish in the world, 
 not to speak of Carlingford ; — which, to be sure, was 
 a result to be greatly attributed to Lucilla's perfect 
 health, and entire satisfaction with herself.
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 This event was of far too much importance in the 
 limited world of Grange Lane to pass over without 
 some of the many commentaries which were going on 
 upon the subject coming to the ears of Miss Marjori- 
 banks, who was the person principally concerned. As 
 for the Doctor, as we have already said, he was so far 
 lost to a sense of his paternal duties as to chuckle a 
 little within himself over the accident that had hap- 
 pened to Lucilla. It had done her no harm, and Dr 
 Marjoribanks permitted himself to regard the occur- 
 rence in a professional point of view, as supplying a 
 little alterative which he could scarcely administer 
 himself ; for it is well known that physicians are 
 seldom successful in the treatment of their own fami- 
 lies. He was more jocose than usual at breakfast for 
 some days following, and, on the morning of the next 
 Thursday, asked if everybody was to come as usual, 
 with a significance which did not escape the young 
 mistress of the house.
 
 216 CHEONICLES OF CAELINGFORD : 
 
 " You know best, papa," she said, cheerfully, as she 
 poured him out his coffee : " if there is anybody who 
 is ill and can't come, it must be your fault — but I did 
 not hear that any one was ill." 
 
 " Nor I," said the Doctor, with a quiet laugh ; and 
 he could not help thinking it would be good sport to 
 see Cavendish come into the drawing-room all by him- 
 self without any support, and make his appearance 
 before Miss Marjoribanks, and do his best to be agree- 
 able, with an awful consciousness of his bad behaviour, 
 and nobody sufficiently benevolent to help him out. 
 The Doctor thought it would serve him right, but yet 
 he was not sufficiently irritated nor sufficiently sympa- 
 thetic to lose any of the humour of the situation ; and 
 it was with a little zest, as for something especially 
 piquant, that he looked forward to the evening. As for 
 Miss Marjoribanks, she too recognised the importance 
 of the occasion. She resolved to produce that evening 
 a new 'plat, which had occupied a corner of her busy 
 mind for some time past. It was a crisis which called 
 for a new step in advance. She sat down by the win- 
 dow after breakfast with various novel combinations 
 floating in her creative brain ; and while she was re- 
 volving these ideas in her mind, Nancy came in with 
 more than her usual briskness. It is true that Lu- 
 cilla had her household well in hand, and possessed 
 the faculty of government to a remarkable extent;
 
 MISS MARJORIBANKS. 217 
 
 but still, under the best of circumstances, it was a 
 serious business to propose a new dish to Nancy. Dr 
 Marjoribanks's factotum was a woman of genius in 
 her way, and by no means unenlightened or an enemy 
 of progress ; but then she had a weakness common 
 to many persons of superior intelligence and decided 
 character. When there was anything new to be intro- 
 duced, Nancy liked to be herself the godmother of 
 the interesting novelty ; for, to be sure, it was her 
 place, and Miss Lu cilia, though she was very clever, 
 was not to be expected to understand what came in 
 best with the other dishes for a dinner. " I ain't one 
 as goes just upon fish and flesh and fowl, like some 
 as call themselves cooks," Nancy said. " If I have 
 a failing, it's for things as suits. When it's brown, 
 make it brown, and don't be mean about the gravy- 
 beef — that's my principle ; and when it ain't brown, 
 mind what you're a-doing of — and don't go and throw 
 a heap of entrys and things at a gentleman's head 
 without no 'armony. I always says to Miss Lucilla 
 as 'armony's the thing ; and when I've set it all 
 straight in my mind, I ain't one as likes to be put 
 out," Nancy would add, with a gleam of her eye which 
 betokened mischief. Miss Maijoribanks was much 
 too sensible not to be aware of this peculiarity ; and 
 accordingly she cleared her throat with something as 
 near nervousness as was possible to Lucilla before she
 
 218 CHRONICLES OF CARLINGFORD : 
 
 opened her lips to propose the innovation. Miss 
 Marjoribanks, as a general rule, did not show much 
 nervousness in her dealings with her prime-minister, 
 any more than in her demeanour towards the less 
 important members of society ; and consequently 
 Nancy remarked the momentary timidity, and a flash 
 of sympathy and indignation took the place of her 
 usual impulse of defiance. 
 
 '' I heard as master said, there was some gentleman 
 as wasn't a-coming," said Nancy. '•' Not as one makes 
 no difference in a dinner ; but I allays likes to know. 
 I don't like no waste, for my part. I ain't one as 
 calk'lates too close, but if there's one thing as I hates 
 like poison, it's waste. I said as I would ask, for 
 Thomas ain't as correct as could be wished. Is it one 
 less than usual. Miss Lucilla?" said Nancy; and it 
 was Lucilla's fault if she did not understand the pro- 
 found and indignant sympathy in Nancy's voice. 
 
 " Oh, no ; it is just the usual number," said Miss 
 Marjoribanks. " It was only a joke of papa's — they 
 
 are all just as usual " And here Lucilla paused. 
 
 She was thinking of the dish she wanted, but Nancy 
 thought she was thinking of Mr Cavendish, who had 
 treated her so badly. She studied the countenance of 
 her young mistress with the interest of a woman who 
 has had her experiences, and knows how little They 
 are to be depended upon. Nancy murmured '' Poor
 
 MISS MARJORIBANKS. 219 
 
 dear ! " under her breath, almost without knowing it, 
 and then a brilliant inspiration came to her mind. 
 Few people have the gift of interfering successfully in 
 such cases, but then to offer consolation is a Christian 
 duty, especially when one has the confidence that to 
 give consolation is in one's power. 
 
 " Miss Lucilla, I would say as you Ve been doing 
 too much, if anybody was to ask me," said Nancy, 
 moved by this generous impulse — " all them practisings 
 and things. They're well enough for young ladies as 
 ain't got nothing else to do ; but you as has such a 
 
 deal in your hands If there was any little thing 
 
 as you could fancy for dinner," said Nancy, in her 
 most bland accents ; " I've set it all down as I thought 
 would be nicest, allays if you approves. Miss Lucilla ; 
 but if there was any little thing as you could fan- 
 cy " " Poor dear, it's all as we can do," she mur- 
 mured to herself. The faithless could not be brought 
 back again ; but Ariadne might at least have any 
 little thing she could fancy for dinner, which, indeed, 
 is a very general treatment of such a case on the part 
 of perplexed sympathisers who do not know what to 
 say. 
 
 Lucilla was so excited for the moment by this un- 
 usual evidence of her 0"vvn good fortune, that she had 
 almost spoiled all by sitting straight up and entering 
 with her usual energy into the discussion — but instinct
 
 220 CHRONICLES OF CARLINGFOED : 
 
 saved Miss Marjoribanks from this mistake. She lost 
 no time in taking advantage of the opportunity, and 
 instead of having a fight with I^ancy, and getting a 
 reluctant consent, and still more reluctant execution 
 of the novelty, Lucilla felt that she was doing that 
 excellent woman a favour by naming her new dish. 
 Nancy approved so thoroughly as to be enthusiastic. 
 " I always said as she had a deal of sense," she said 
 afterwards, triumphantly. "There ain't one young 
 lady in a hundred as knows what's good for her, like 
 Miss Lucilla." But notwithstanding this fervent de- 
 claration of approval, Nancy, softened as she was, 
 could not but linger, when all was concluded, to give 
 a little advice. 
 
 " I wouldn't worrit myself with all them practisings. 
 Miss Lucilla, if I was you," said her faithful retainer. 
 "They're a deal too much for you. I've took the 
 liberty, when all was cleaned up, to go on the stair 
 and listen a bit, and there ain't nothing to equal it 
 when you're a-singing by yourself I don't think no- 
 thing of them duets — and as for that bold-faced brazen 
 thing " 
 
 " Oh, Nancy, hush ! " said Lucilla ; " Miss Lake has 
 a beautiful voice. If she does not look quite like a 
 lady, it is not her fault, poor thing. She has no 
 mamma to set her right, you know. She is the best 
 assistant I have — she and Mr Cavendish," said Lucilla,
 
 MISS MAEJORIBANKS. 221 
 
 sweetly ; and she gave Nancy a look which moved the 
 faithful servant almost to tears, though she was not 
 addicted to that weakness. I^ancy retired with the 
 most enthusiastic determination to exert herself to the 
 utmost for the preparation of the little dish which 
 Lucilla fancied. " But I wouldn't worrit about them 
 duets," she said again, as she left the room. " I 
 wouldn't, not if I was you, Miss Lucilla, asking pardon 
 for the liberty : as for having no mamma, you have no 
 mamma yourself, and you the young lady as is most 
 thought upon in Carlingford, and as different from 
 
 that brazen-faced thing, with her red cheeks " 
 
 " Hush, oh hush, ISTancy," Lucilla said, as she sank 
 back in her chair; but Miss Marjoribanks, after all, 
 was only human, and she was not so distressed by 
 these unpolished epithets as she might or perhaps 
 ought to have been. " Poor Barbara ! I wish she 
 could only look a little bit like a lady," she said 
 to herself; and so proceeded with her preparations 
 for the evening. She had all her plans matured, 
 and she felt quite comfortable about that evening 
 which all her friends were thinking would be rather 
 trying to Lucilla. To tell the truth, when a thing 
 became rather trying, Lucilla's spirits rose. Mr 
 Cavendish's desertion was perhaps, on the whole, 
 more than compensated for by the exhilaration of a 
 difficulty to be encountered. She too began to fore-
 
 222 CHRONICLES OF CAELINGFORD : 
 
 cast, like her father, the possibilities of the evening, 
 and to think of Mr Cavendish coming in to dinner 
 when there was nobody to support him, and not even 
 a crowd of people to retire among. Would he run 
 the risk of coming, under the circumstances ? or, if he 
 came, would he prostrate himself as he had done on a 
 previous occasion, and return to his allegiance ? This 
 question roused Lucilla to a degree of energy unusual 
 even to her ivho was always energetic. It was then 
 that the brilliant idea struck her of adjourning to the 
 garden in the evening — a practice which was received 
 with such enthusiasm in Carlingford, where the gar- 
 dens were so pretty. She put on her hat directly and 
 went down-stairs, and called the gardener to consult 
 him about it ; and it was thus that she was employed 
 when Mrs Chiley rang the bell at the garden-gate. 
 If it had been anybody else in Carlingford, Lucilla 
 would have led her back again to the house, and said 
 nothing about the subject of her conference with the 
 gardener ; for it is always best, as all judicious persons 
 are aware, not to forestall these little arrangements 
 which make so agreeable a surprise at the moment ; 
 but then Mrs Chiley was Miss Marjoribanks's special 
 confidant. The old lady had her face full of business 
 that bright morning. She listened to what her young 
 friend proposed, but without hearing it, and said, 
 " Oh yes, my dear, I am sure it will be charming,"
 
 MISS MAKJORIBANKS. 223 
 
 without the very least notion what it was she 
 applauded. " Let us go in and sit down a moment, 
 for I have something to say to you, Lucilla," Mrs 
 Chiley said ; and when they had reached the drawing- 
 room and shut the door, the Colonel's wife gave her 
 favourite a kiss, and looked anxiously in her face. 
 "You have not been to see me since Monday," said 
 Mrs Chiley. " I am sure you are not well, or you 
 could not have stayed away so long ; but if you did 
 not feel equal to going out, why did not you send for 
 me, Lucilla, my poor dear ? " Though Miss Marjori- 
 banks's thoughts at that moment were full of the 
 garden, and not in the least occupied with those more 
 troublesome matters which procured for her Mrs 
 Chiley's sympathy, she placed the kind old lady in the 
 most easy chair, and sat down by her, as Mrs Chiley 
 liked to see a young creature do. Lucilla's affairs 
 were too important to be trusted to a young confidante 
 of her own age ; but even a person of acknowledged 
 genius like Miss Marjoribanks is the better of some 
 one to whom she can open up her breast. 
 
 " Dear Mrs Chiley ! " said Lucilla, " I am quite well, 
 and I meant to have come to see you to-day." 
 
 "My poor dear!" said Mrs Chiley again. "You 
 say you are quite well, for you have such a spirit; 
 but I can see what you have been going through. I 
 don't understand how you can keep on, and do so
 
 224 CHRONICLES OF CARLIXGFOED : 
 
 much. But it was not that tliat brought me here. 
 There is some one coming to Carlingford that I want 
 you to meet, Lucilla. He is a relation of Mary 
 Chiley's husband, and as she does not get on very well 
 with them, you know, I think it is our duty to be 
 civil. And they say he is a very nice man ; and 
 young — enough/' said Mrs Chiley, with a look of some 
 anxiety, pausing to see the effect produced upon Lu- 
 cilla by her words. 
 
 Miss Marjoribanks had not, as she once confessed, 
 a very vivid sense of humour, but she laughed a little, 
 in spite of herself, at the old lady's anxious look. 
 " Don't be sorry for me," she said ; " I told you that 
 fortunately my affections were not engaged. I don't 
 want any new gentleman introduced to me. If that 
 was what I was thinking of, I never need have come 
 home," Lucilla said, with a little dignity ; and yet, to 
 be sure, she was naturally curious to know who the 
 new man, who was very nice and young — enough, 
 could be ; for such apparitions were not too plentiful 
 in Carlingford ; and it did not seem in reason that an 
 individual of this interesting description could come 
 out of Colonel Chiley's house, 
 
 " My dear, he is a clergyman," said Mrs Chiley, 
 putting her hand on Miss Marjoribanks's arm, and 
 speaking in a half whisper ; " and you know a nice 
 clergyman is always nice, and you need not think of
 
 MISS ^rARJORIBANKS. 225 
 
 him as a young man unless you like. He has a nice 
 property, and he is Rector of Basing, which is a very 
 good living, and Archdeacon of Stanmore. He has 
 come here to hold a visitation, you know ; and they 
 say that if Carlingford was made into a bishopric, he 
 is almost sure to be the first bishop ; and you know a 
 bishop, or even an archdeacon, has a very nice posi- 
 tion. I want to be civil to him for Mary Chiley's 
 sake, who is not on such terms as we could wish with 
 her husband's friends ; and then I suppose he will 
 have to be a great deal in Carlingford, and I should 
 like him to form a good impression. I want you and 
 your dear good papa to come and meet him ; and then 
 after that — but one thing is enough at a time," the old 
 lady said, breaking ofi" with a nod and a smile. She too 
 had brought her bit of consolation to Lucilla ; and it 
 was a kind of consolation which, when administered 
 at the right moment, is sometimes of sovereign effi- 
 cacy, as Mrs Chiley was aware. 
 
 " I am sure papa will be very happy," said Lucilla ; 
 " and, indeed, if you like, I shall be very glad to ask 
 him here. If he is a friend of yours, that is quite 
 enough for me. It is very nice to know a nice clergy- 
 man ; but as for being a young man, I can't see how that 
 matters. If I had been thinking of that, I need never 
 — but I should think papa would like to meet him ; 
 and you know it is the object of my life to please papa." 
 
 VOL. I. p
 
 226 CHRONICLES OF CARLINGFOED *. 
 
 " Yes, my poor dear," said the Colonel's wife, " and 
 he would be hard-hearted indeed if he was not pleased ; 
 but still we must consider you too a little, Lucilla. 
 You do everything for other people, and you never 
 think of yourself. But I like to see you with nice 
 people round you, for my part," Mrs Chiley added — 
 " really nice people, and not these poor-spirited, un- 
 grateful " 
 
 " Hush, hush ! " said Lucilla ; " I don't know such 
 nice people anywhere as there are in Carlingford. 
 Some people are never pleased with their neighbours, 
 but I always get on so well with everybody. It is 
 my good luck, you know ; and so long as I have you, 
 dear Mrs Chiley " 
 
 ''Ah, Lucilla!" said the old lady, "that is very 
 kind of you — and you could not have anybody that is 
 fonder of you than I am ; but still I am an old woman, 
 old enough to be your grandmother, my dear — and we 
 have your future interests to think of. As for all the 
 vexations you have had, I think I could find it in my 
 heart to turn that ungrateful creature to the door. 
 Don't let her come here any more. I like your voice 
 a great deal better when you are singing by yourself 
 — and I am sure the Archdeacon would be of my 
 opinion," said j\Irs Chiley, with a confidence which 
 was beautiful to behold. It was true she had not 
 seen her new hero as yet, but that only left her so
 
 MISS MAEJOEIBilNKS. 227 
 
 much more free to take the good of him and his pro- 
 bable sentiments ; for to persons of frank and simple 
 imagination a very little foundation of fact is enough 
 to build upon. 
 
 " Dear Mrs Chiley, it is so nice of you to be vexed/' 
 said Lucilla, who thouo^ht it as well not to enter into 
 any further argument. " Papa will be delighted, I 
 am sure, and I can come in the evening. The Colonel 
 likes to have only six people, and you will be three 
 to start with, so there can't be any room for me at 
 dinner ; and you know I don't mind about dinner. 
 I shall come in the evening and make tea for you — 
 and if you think he would like to come next Thurs- 
 day " said Lucilla, graciously. This was how it 
 
 was eventually settled. Mrs Chiley went home again 
 throuoh Grange Lane in the sunshine, with that little 
 old-womanish hobble which Mrs Woodburn executed 
 with such precision, perfectly satisfied with her suc- 
 cess, and indulging herself in some pleasant visions. 
 To be sure, a nice clergyman is always nice to know^ 
 even though nothing more was to come of it ; and a 
 new man in the field of such distinguished pretensions, 
 would be Lucilla's best defence against any sort of 
 mortification. As for Miss Marjoribanks herself, she 
 was thinking a great deal more of the new details for 
 the approaching evening than of anything else more 
 distant, and consequently less important ; but, on the
 
 228 CHRONICLES OF CAELINGFORD : 
 
 whole, she was by no means displeased to hear of the 
 Archdeacon. In such a work as hers, a skilful leader 
 is always on the outlook for auxiliaries ; and there 
 are circumstances in which a nice clergyman is almost 
 as useful to the lady of the house as a man who can 
 flirt. To be sure, now and then there occurs a rare 
 example in which both these qualities are united in 
 one person ; but even in the most modest point of 
 view, if he was not stupid or obstinately Low- Church, 
 there was nothing to despise in the apparition of the 
 Archdeacon thus suddenly blown to her very door. 
 "While she had the seats placed in the garden (not too 
 visibly, but shrouded among the shrubs and round the 
 trunks of the trees), and chose the spot for a little 
 illumination, which was not to be universal, like a 
 tea-garden, but concentrated in one spot under the 
 big lime-tree, Lucilla permitted herself to speculate a 
 little about this unknown hero. She did not so much 
 ask herself if he would be dark or fair, according to 
 the usage of young ladies, as whether he would be 
 High or Broad. But, however, that question, like 
 various others, was still hidden in the surrounding 
 darkness. 
 
 This was how Mrs Chiley did her best to cheer up 
 Lucilla in the discouragement from which she sup- 
 posed her young friend to be suffering. It was per- 
 haps a loftier expedient in one way than Nancy's
 
 MISS MARJORIBANKS. 229 
 
 desire that she should have something she would 
 fancy for dinner ; but then there could not be any 
 doubt as to the kindness which prompted both sugges- 
 tions ; and, after all, it is not what people do for you. 
 but the spirit in which they do it, which should be 
 taken into consideration, as Lucilla most justly ob- 
 served.
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 That evening was one which all the people in 
 Grange Lane had unanimously concluded would be 
 rather hard upon Miss Marjoribanks. To be sure, 
 when a crisis arrives there is always a certain excite- 
 ment which keeps one up ; but afterwards, when the 
 excitement is over, then is the time when it becomes 
 really trying. There was naturally, under these cir- 
 cumstances, a larger assemblage than usual to watch 
 the progress of the little drama, and how Lucilla 
 would behave ; for, after all, society would be exces- 
 sively tame if it were not for these personal complica- 
 tions, which are always arising, and which are so 
 much better than a play. As for the Doctor himself, 
 the portion of the evening's entertainment which par- 
 ticularly amused him was that which preceded all 'the 
 rest — the reception given by Lucilla to her guests at 
 dinner, and especially to the culprit, who came in 
 quite alone, and found nobody to stand up for him.
 
 MISS MARJORIBANKS. 231 
 
 Mr Cavendish, who felt to the full the difficulty of his 
 position, and, to tell the truth, was a little ashamed of 
 himself, came late, in order to abridge his trial as 
 much as possible ; but Lucilla's habitual good-fortune 
 was not confined only to her own necessities, but 
 seemed to involve everybody opposed to her in a cease- 
 less ill-luck, which was very edifying to the spectators. 
 Mr Cavendish was so late that the other guests had 
 formed into groups round the room, leaving a great 
 open space and avenue of approach to the lady of the 
 house in the middle ; and the audience, thus arranged, 
 was very impatient and unfavourable to the lingerer 
 who kept them waiting for their dinner. When he 
 came in at last, instead of doing anything to help him, 
 everybody ceased talking and looked on in stern 
 silence as the wretched culprit walked all the length 
 of the room up to Lucilla through the unoccupied 
 space which exposed him so unmercifully on every 
 side. They all stopped in the middle of what they 
 were saying, and fixed stony eyes on him, as the 
 dead sailors did on the Ancient Mariner. He had 
 a very good spirit, but still there are circumstances 
 which take the courage out of a man. To be 
 sure, Miss Marjoribanks, when he reached her at 
 last, received Mr Cavendish with the utmost grace 
 and cordiality ; but it is easy to imagine what 
 must have been the feelings of the unfortunate
 
 232 CHRONICLES OF CARLINGFOED : 
 
 hero. The Balaclava charge itself, in the face of 
 all the guns, could have been nothing to the sen- 
 sation of walking through that horrible naked space, 
 through a crowd of reproachful men who were 
 waiting for dinner ; and it was only after it was 
 all over, and Mr Cavendish had safely arrived at 
 Miss Marjoribanks's side, and was being set at 
 his ease, poor wretch, by her incomparable sweet- 
 ness, that the Doctor, with a certain grim smile on 
 his countenance, came and shook hands with his 
 unfortunate guest. 
 
 ''You are late," Dr Marjoribanks said, taking 
 out the great watch by which all the pulses of 
 Grange Lane considered it their duty to keep time, 
 and which marked five minutes after seven, as every- 
 body could see. It was ten minutes after seven by 
 the pretty French clock on the mantelpiece, and at 
 least twenty by the lowering countenances of Dr 
 Marjoribanks's guests. Mr Cavendish made the 
 best of his unhappy position, and threw himself 
 upon Lucilla's charity, who was the only one who 
 had any compassion upon him ; for to see Mrs 
 Chiley's forbidding countenance no one could have 
 believed that she had ever called him "my dear.'' 
 "Dinner is on the table, papa," Miss Marjoribanks 
 said, with a little reassuring nod to the culprit 
 who had made her his refuge ; and she got up
 
 mSS MAKJORIBANKS. 233 
 
 and shook out her white draperies with a charitable 
 commotion for which her faithless admirer blessed 
 her in his heart. 
 
 But the place at her left hand was not left 
 vacant for Mr Cavendish ; he had not the spirit to 
 claim it, even had he had the time ; and the con- 
 sequence was that he found himself next to his 
 brother-in-law at table, which was indeed a hard 
 fate. As for Lucilla, nobody had ever seen her in 
 better spirits or looks ; she was quite radiant when 
 the famous dish made its appearance which Nancy had 
 elaborated to please her, and told the story of its in- 
 troduction to her two next neighbours, in a half whis- 
 per, to their immense amusement. " When the servants 
 are gone I will tell you what w^e are laughing at," she 
 breathed across the table to Mrs Chiley, who was 
 " more than delighted," as she said, to see her dear 
 Lucilla keeping up so well ; and when the dessert was 
 put upon the table, and Thomas had finally disap- 
 peared. Miss Marjoribanks kept her promise. "I 
 could not think how I was to get her to consent," 
 Lucilla said, " but you know she thought I was in 
 low spirits, the dear old soul, and that it would be a 
 comfort to me." Though there was often a great deal 
 of fun at Dr Marjoribanks's table, nothing was ever 
 heard there to compare with the laughter that greeted 
 Lucilla's narrative. Everybody was so entirely aware
 
 ,234 CHEONICLES OF CARLINGFOED : 
 
 of the supposed cause of the low spirits, and indeed 
 was so conscious of having speculated, like Nancy, 
 upon Miss Marjoribanks's probable demeanour at this 
 trying moment, that the laughter was not mere laugh- 
 ter, but conveyed, at the same time, a confession of 
 guilt and a storm of applause and admiration. As for 
 Mr Cavendish, it was alarming to look at him in the ter- 
 rible paroxysm of confusion and shame which he tried 
 to shield under the universal amusement. Miss Mar- 
 joribanks left the dining-room that evening with the 
 soothing conviction that she had administered punish- 
 ment of the most annihilating kind, without for a 
 moment diverging from the perfect sweetness and 
 amiability with which it was her duty to treat all her 
 father's guests. It was so complete and perfect that 
 there was not another word to be said either on one 
 side or the other ; and yet Lucilla had not in the least 
 committed herself, or condescended from her maiden 
 dignity. As for Dr Marjoribanks, if he had chuckled 
 over it before, in anticipation, it may be supposed 
 how he enjoyed now this perfect vindication of his 
 daughter's capacity for taking care of herself. The 
 sound of the victory was even heard up-stairs, where 
 the young ladies at the open windows were asking 
 each other, with a little envy, what the men could be 
 laughing at. There was, as we have said, a larger 
 assembly than usual that night. For one thing, it
 
 MISS MAEJORIBANKS. 235 
 
 was moouliglit, and all the people from the country 
 were there ; and then public curiosity was profoundly 
 concerned as to how Lucilla was to conduct herself on 
 so trying an occasion. The laughter even jarred on 
 the sensitive feelings of some people who thought, 
 where a young girl's happiness was concerned, that it 
 was too serious a matter to be laughed at ; but then 
 Miss Marjoribanks was not a person who could be 
 classed with ordinary young girls, in the general ac- 
 ceptation of the word. 
 
 It was when things were at this crisis, and all eyes 
 were directed to Lucilla, and a certain expectation was 
 diffused through the company, that Miss Marjoribanks 
 made that proposal of adjourning to the garden, 
 which was received with so much applause. Lucilla's 
 instinct, or rather her genius, had warned her that 
 something out of the ordinary course of proceedings 
 would be expected from her on that special occasion. 
 She could not get up and make a speech to her ex- 
 cited and curious audience, neither could she, aiwopos 
 of nothing, tell over again the story which had been 
 received with such applause down-stairs ; and yet 
 something was wanting. The ordinary routine did 
 not satisfy Lucilla's constituency, who had come 
 with the laudable intention of observing her on a 
 trying occasion, and watching how she got through it. 
 " The air is so delicious to-niirht that I had some seats
 
 236 CHRONICLES OF CARLINGFORD : 
 
 placed in the garden/' Miss Marjoribanks said, " and 
 if you all like we will sing to you up here, and give 
 you as much music as ever you please. You know I 
 never would consent to be too musical when every- 
 body was in one room. It does not matter so much, 
 when there are a suite ; but then papa, you know, is 
 only a professional man, and I have but one draw- 
 ing-room," said Lucilla, with sweet humility. It was 
 Lady Eichmond to whom she was addressing herself 
 at the moment, who was a lady who liked to be the 
 great lady of the party. '' It is only in summer that 
 we can be a little like you fine people, who have as 
 many rooms as you please. When you are at a little 
 distance we will sing to you all the evening, if you 
 like." 
 
 '' But, my dear, are you sure you feel able for 
 so much exertion?" said Lady Eichmond, who was 
 one of those people who did not think a young 
 girl's happiness a thing to be trifled with; and she 
 looked with what she described afterwards as a very 
 searching expression in Miss Marjoribanks's face. 
 
 " Dear Lady Eichmond, I hope I am always able 
 for my duty," said that gentle martyr. " Papa would 
 be wretched if he did not think we were all enjoying 
 ourselves ; and you know it is the object of my life to 
 be a comfort to papa." 
 
 This was what the searching expression in Lady 
 
 {\u.J
 
 MISS MAEJORIBANKS. 237 
 
 Richmond's eyes elicited from Lucilla. The sentiment 
 was perhaps a little different from that which she had 
 conveyed to her delighted auditors in the dining-room, 
 but at the same time it was equally true ; for every- 
 body in Carlingford was aware of the grand object of 
 Miss jMarjoribanks's existence. Lady Richmond went 
 do^Yn to the garden at the head of a bevy of ladies, 
 and seated herself under the drawing-room windows, 
 and placed a chair beside her own for Mrs Chiley. 
 " I am afraid that dear girl is keeping up too well," 
 Lady Richmond said ; " I never saw such fortitude. 
 All the young people say she does not feel it ; but as 
 soon as I fixed my eyes on her I saw the difference. 
 You can always find out what a girl's feelings are 
 when you look into her eyes." 
 
 " Yes," said Mrs Chiley, with a little doubt, for she 
 had been shaken in her convictions by the universal 
 laughter, though she was a little mystified herself by 
 Lucilla's anecdote ; and then she had never been 
 gifted with eyes like Lady Richmond's, which looked 
 people through and through. "She goes through a 
 great deal, and it never seems to do her any harm," 
 the old lady said, with a little hesitation. " It is such 
 a comfort that she has a good constitution, especially 
 as her mother was so delicate ; and then Lucilla has 
 such a spirit " 
 
 " But one may try a good constitution too far,"
 
 238 CHEONICLES OF CAELINGFOED : 
 
 said Lady Eichmond ; " and I am certain she is full 
 of feeling. It is sure to come out when she sings, 
 and that is Avhy I came to this seat. I should not 
 like to lose a note. And do tell me who is that horrid 
 flirting disagreeable girl?" added the county lady, 
 drawing her chair a little closer. By this time the 
 garden was full of pretty figures and pleasant voices, 
 and under the lime-tree there was a glimmer of yel- 
 low light from the lamps, and on the other side the. 
 moon was coming up steady like a ball of silver over 
 the dark outlines of Carlingford ; and even the two 
 voices which swelled forth up-stairs in the fullest accord, 
 betraying nothing of the personal sentiments of their 
 owners, were not more agreeable to hear than the 
 rustle and murmur of sound which rose all over Dr 
 Marjoribanks's smooth lawn and pretty shrubbery. 
 Here and there a group of the. older people sat, like 
 Lady Eichmond and Mrs Chiley, listening with all 
 their might ; and all about them were clusters of girls 
 and their natural attendants, arrested in their pro- 
 gress, and standing still breathless, "just for this bar," 
 as young people pause in their walks and talks to 
 listen to a chance nightingale. And, to be sure, 
 whenever anybody was tired of the music, there 
 were quantities of corners to retire into, not to speak 
 of that bright spot full of yellow light under the 
 lime-tree.
 
 MISS MARJORIBANKS. 239 
 
 ''Nobody but Lucilla ever could have thought 
 of anything so delicious," was what everybody said. 
 And then the two singers up-stairs gave so much 
 scope to curiosity. "Do you think they are 
 all by themselves?" Lydia Brown was heard to 
 ask, with a little natural anxiety; and the live- 
 lier imaginations among the party set to work 
 at once to invent impossible tortures which the 
 soprano might inflict on the contralto. But, to tell 
 the truth, the two singers were by no means alone. 
 Half the gentlemen of the dinner-party, who were 
 past the sentimental age, and did not care about 
 moonlight, had gone up-stairs according to their use 
 and wont, and remained there, finding, to their great 
 satisfaction, room to move about, and comfortable 
 chairs to sit down in. They sat and chatted in the 
 corners in great content and good-humour, while Lu- 
 cilla and Barbara executed the most charming duets.: 
 Now and then old Colonel Chiley paused to put his 
 two hands softly together and cry " Brava !" but on the 
 whole the gentlemen were not much disturbed by the 
 music. And then there were a few ladies, who were 
 subject to neuralgia, or apt to take bad colds in the 
 head, who preferred . being up-stairs. So that if Lu- 
 cilla had meant to pinch or maltreat her rival, circum- 
 stances would have made it impossible. Miss Marjori- 
 banks did nothing to Barbara, except incite her to sing
 
 240 CHRONICLES OF CARLINGFORD : , 
 
 1 
 
 her very best ; but no doubt she was the means of in- ! 
 
 flicting considerable pain on Mr Cavendish, who stood : 
 at a little distance, and looked and listened to botfi, 
 
 and perhaps had inward doubts as to the wisdom of ; 
 
 his choice. Such was the arrangement of the person- i 
 
 ages of the social drama, and it was in this way that \ 
 
 everybody was occupied, when an event occurred ' 
 which at a later period awoke much excitement in 
 
 Carlingford, and had no small influence upon the I 
 
 future fate of some of the individuals whose history is | 
 here recorded. 
 
 Everything was as calm and cheerful and agree- 
 able as if Carlingford had been a social paradise, \ 
 and Miss Marjoribanks's drawing-room the seventh I 
 heaven of terrestrial harmony. The sky itself was ^ 
 not more peaceful, nor gave less indication of any i 
 tempest than did the tranquil atmosphere below, where \ 
 all the people knew each other, and everybody was ' 
 friendly. Lucilla had just risen from the piano, and \ 
 there was a little pause, in which cheers were audible I 
 from the garden, and Colonel Chiley, in the midst of 
 his conversation, patted his two hands together ; and : 
 it was just at that moment that the drawing-room door ! 
 opened, and Thomas came in, followed by a gentleman. 
 The gentleman was a stranger, whom Miss Marjori- 
 banks had never seen before, and she made a step for- 
 ward, as was her duty as mistress of the house. But I
 
 MISS MARJORIBANKS. 241 
 
 when she had made that one step, Lucilla suddenly 
 stood still, arrested by something more urgent than 
 the arrival of a stranger. Mr Cavendish, too, had 
 been standing with his face to the door, and had seen 
 the new arrival. He was directly in front of Lucilla, 
 so near her that he could not move without attracting 
 her attention. When Miss Marjoribanks took that 
 step in advance, Mr Cavendish, as if by the same im- 
 pulse, suddenly, and without saying a word, turned 
 right round like a man who had seen something ter- 
 rible, at which he dared not take a second look. He 
 was too much absorbed at that moment in his own 
 feelings to know that he was betraying himself to Lu- 
 cilla, or even to be conscious that she was near him. 
 His face was more than pale ; it had a green ghastly 
 look, as of a face from which all the blood had sud- 
 denly been withdrawn to reinforce the vital centre in 
 some failing of nature. His under-lip hung down, and 
 tw^o hollows which had never been seen there before 
 appeared in his cheeks. Miss Marjoribanks was so 
 taken by surprise that she stood still, thinking no more 
 of her duties, but regarding in utter dismay and amaze- 
 ment the look of dead stupefied terror which thus 
 appeared so unexpectedly before her. Mr Cavendish 
 had turned right round, turning his back upon a lady 
 to whom he had been talking the minute before. But 
 he was as unconscious of doing so as of the fact that 
 
 VOL. I. Q
 
 242 CHRONICLES OF CAKLINGFOED : 
 
 he had presented the spectacle of his miserable surprise 
 and alarm in the most striking way to the one woman 
 present who had a right to entertain a certain grudge 
 against him. 
 
 During this moment of unusual inaction on Lu- 
 cilla's part, the stranger had been led up to Colonel 
 Chiley, and had shaken hands with him, and was 
 entering into some explanations which Miss Mar- 
 joribanks divined with her usual quick intelligence ; 
 and then the old Colonel roused himself up from his 
 easy-chair, and leaned over to speak to Dr Marjori- 
 banks, and showed symptoms of approaching the lady 
 of the house. All these movements Lucilla followed 
 breathlessly, with a strange consciousness that only 
 her presence of mind stood between her faithless 
 suitor and a real danger. And as if to prove 
 the difference, Barbara Lake chose that moment 
 of all others to show her power, and made an appeal 
 to Mr Cavendish and his taste in music, to which 
 the unhappy man made no response. JMiss Mar- 
 joribanks saw there was no time to lose. With a 
 fearless hand she threw down a great portfolio of 
 music which happened to be close to her, just at his 
 feet, making a merciful disturbance. And then she 
 turned and made her curtsy, and received the homage 
 of Mr Archdeacon Beverley, who had arrived a day
 
 .MISS I^IAKJORIBANKS. 243 
 
 before he was expected, and had come to look after his 
 host, since his host had not been at home to receive 
 him. 
 
 " But you have broken your music-stand or some- 
 thing, Lucilla," said the Colonel. 
 
 " Oh, no ; it is only a portfolio. I can't think what 
 could make me so awkward," said Miss Marjoribanks; 
 " I suppose it was seeing some one come in whom I 
 didn't know." And then the old gentleman, as was 
 his duty, paid the Archdeacon a compliment on having 
 made such a commotion. " We used to have the best 
 of it in our day," said the old soldier ; " but now you 
 churchmen are the men." Miss Marjoribanks heard 
 the door open again before this little speech was 
 finished. It was Mr Cavendish, who was going out 
 with a long step, as if he with difiiculty kept himself 
 from running ; and he never came back again to say 
 good-night, or made any further appearance either out 
 of doors or indoors. It is true that the Archdeacon 
 made himself very agreeable, but then one man never 
 quite makes up for another. Miss Marjoribanks said 
 nothing about it, not even when Mrs Woodburn came 
 up to her with a scared face, and in full possession of 
 her own identity, which of itself was an extraordinary 
 fact, and proved that something had happened ; but it 
 would be vain to say that Lucilla was not much
 
 244 CHRONICLES OF CA.ELINGFORD. i 
 
 excited by this sudden gleam of mystery. It gave the ■ 
 
 Archdeacon an extraordinary and altogether nnex- I 
 
 pected attraction ; and as for Mr Cavendish, it was ' 
 
 utterly inconceivable that a man in society, whom | 
 
 everybody knew about, should give way to such a \ 
 panic. The question was, What did it mean ?
 
 CHAPTEK XVII. 
 
 The arrival of Mr Archdeacon Beverley in Carling- 
 ford was, for many reasons, an event of importance to 
 the town, and especially to society, which was con- 
 cerned in anything that drew new and pleasant people 
 to Grange Lane. For one thing, it occurred at the 
 time when that first proposal of elevating Carling- 
 ford into a bishopric, in order to relieve the present 
 bishop of the district of a part of his immense diocese, 
 had just been mooted; and supposing this conception 
 to be ever carried out, nobody could have been more 
 eligible as first bishop than the Archdeacon, who was 
 in the prime of life, and a very successful clergyman. 
 And then, not to speak of anything so important, his 
 presence was a great attraction to the country clergy, 
 especially as he had come to hold a visitation. Not- 
 withstanding all this, it is impossible to deny that 
 Mrs Chiley, his hostess, and even Miss Marjoribanks 
 herself, regarded the manner of his first appearance
 
 246 CHEONICLES OF CARLINGFORD : 
 
 with a certain displeasure. If he had only had the 
 good sense to stay at home, and not come to seek 
 his entertainers ! To be sure it is awkward to arrive 
 at a house and find that everybody is out ; but still, 
 as Mrs Chiley justly observed, the Archdeacon was 
 not a baby, and he might have known better. " Com- 
 ing to you the very first night, and almost in his 
 travelling things, to take the cream off everything/' 
 the old lady said, with tears of vexation in her eyes ; 
 " and after that, what have we to show him in Car- 
 lingford, Lucilla?" As for Miss Marjoribanks, she 
 was annoyed, but she knew the wealth of her own 
 resources, and she was not in despair, like her old 
 friend. " They never know any better," she said, 
 sympathetically. " Dear Mrs Chiley, there was no- 
 thing else to be expected ; but, at the same time, I 
 don't think things are so very bad," said Lucilla ; for 
 she had naturally a confidence in herself of which even 
 Mrs Chiley 's admiring faith fell short. 
 
 The Archdeacon himself took it quite cheerfully, as 
 if it was the most natural thing in the world. " I have 
 no doubt it was a very pleasant party, if one could have 
 got the key-note," he said, in his Broad-Church way, as 
 if there was nothing more to be said on the subject, and 
 Lucilla's Thursday was the merest ordinary assembly. 
 For there could be no doubt that he was Broad-Church, 
 even though his antecedents had not proclaimed the
 
 MISS MAEJORIBANKS. 247 
 
 fact. He had a way of talking on many subjects which 
 alarmed his hostess. It was not that there was anything 
 objectionable in what he said — for, to be sure, a clergy- 
 man and an archdeacon may say a great many things 
 that ordinary people would not like to venture on, — 
 but still it was impossible to tell what it might lead 
 to ; for it is not everybody who knows when to stop, 
 as Mr Beverley in his position might be expected to 
 do. It was the custom of good society in Carlingford 
 to give a respectful assent, for example, to Mr Bury's 
 extreme Low-Churchism — as if it were profane, as it 
 certainly was not respectable, to differ from the Rector 
 — and to give him as wide a field as possible for his 
 missionary operations by keeping out of the way. But 
 Mr Beverley had not the least regard for respectability, 
 nor that respect for religion which consists in keep- 
 ing as clear of it as possible ; and the way in which he 
 spoke of Mr Bury's views wounded some peojole's 
 feelings. Altogether, he was, as Mrs Chiley said, an 
 anxious person to have in the house ; for he just as 
 often agreed with the gentlemen in their loose ways of 
 thinking, as with the more correct opinions by which 
 the wives and mothers who had charge of Their moral- 
 ity strove hard to teep them in the right way ; and 
 that was the reverse of what one naturally expected 
 from a clergyman. He was very nice, and had a nice 
 position ; and, under all the circumstances, it was not
 
 248 CHRONICLES OF CARLINGFORD : 
 
 only a duty to pay attention to him, but a duty from 
 which results of a most agreeable character might 
 spring; but still, though she could not be otherwise 
 than kind, it would be impossible to say that it was 
 out of personal predilection that Mrs Chiley devoted 
 herself to her guest. She admitted frankly that he was 
 not like what clergymen were in her time. For one 
 thing, he seemed to think that every silly boy and girl 
 ought to have an opinion and be consulted, as if they 
 had anything to do with it — which was just the way to 
 turn their heads, and make them utterly insupportable. 
 On the whole, perhaps, the old lady was more chari- 
 table to Mary Chiley, and understood better how it was 
 that she, brought up in sound Church principles, did 
 not get on so well as might be desired with her hus- 
 band's family, after a week of the Archdeacon. And 
 yet he was a delightful person, and full of information, 
 as everybody admitted ; and if Carlingford should be 
 erected into a bishopric, as would be only right — and 
 if Mr Beverley should happen to be appointed bishop, 
 as was highly probable — then it would be a pleasure to 
 think that one had been kind to him. At the same 
 time, it must be owned that he showed a great want 
 of tact in coming to Miss Marjoribanks's Thursday on 
 the night of his arrival, and thus brushing, as it were, 
 the very cream off his introduction to Grange Lane. 
 And Mrs Chiley still sighed a little over Mr Cavendish,
 
 MISS MAEJORIBANKS. 249 
 
 and tliouglit within herself that it was not his fault, 
 but that designing, artful creature, who was enough to 
 lead any man wrong. For it was very clear to the 
 meanest capacity that nobody could ever call the Arch- 
 deacon " my dear," as, with all his faults, it had been 
 possible to call Mr Cavendish. And by this line of 
 thought ]Mrs Chiley was led to regret Mr Cavendish, 
 and to wonder what had become of him, and what family 
 affairs it could be that had taken him so suddenly away. 
 A great many people in Carlingford were at that 
 moment occupied by the same wonders and regrets. 
 Some people thought he was frightened to find how 
 far he had gone with that Miss Lake, and had left 
 town for a little to be out of the way ; and some 
 thought he must have been speculating, and have lost 
 money. To tell the truth, it was very strange that he 
 should have disappeared so suddenly, — just at the mo- 
 ment, too, when old Mr Chiltern had one of his bad 
 attacks of bronchitis, which Dr Marjoribanks himself 
 had admitted might carry him off any day. Nothing 
 could be more important to the future interests of 
 young Cavendish than to be on the spot at this critical 
 moment, and yet he had disappeared without telling 
 anybody he was going, or where he was going, which 
 was on the whole a perfectly unexplainable proceeding. 
 His very servants, as had been ascertained by some 
 inquiring mind in the community, were unaware of his
 
 250 CHRONICLES OF CAELINGFOED : 
 
 intention up to the very last moment ; and certainly 
 lie had not said good-bye to anybody before leaving 
 Dr Marjoribanks's garden on that Thursday evening. 
 Mr Woodburn, who was not a person of very refined 
 perceptions, was the only man who found his disap- 
 pearance quite natural. '' After making such a deuced 
 ass of himself, by George ! what could the fellow do ? " 
 said his brother-in-law, who naturally enjoyed the dis- 
 comfiture of so near a connection ; and this was no 
 doubt a providential circumstance for Mrs Woodburn, 
 who was thus saved from the necessity of explaining 
 or accounting for her brother's unexpected disappear- 
 ance ; but it failed to satisfy the general community, 
 who did not think Mr Cavendish likely to give in at 
 the first blow even of so distinguished an antagonist as 
 Miss Marjoribanks. Some of the more charitable in- 
 habitants of Grange Lane concluded that it must be 
 the sudden illness of some relative which had called 
 him away ; but then, though he was well known to be 
 one of the Cavendishes, neither he nor his sister ever 
 spoke much of their connections ; and, on the whole, 
 public opinion fluctuated between the two first sugges- 
 tions — which seemed truest to nature at least, whether 
 or not they might be fully corroborated by fact — which 
 were, either that Mr Cavendish had taken fright, as he 
 might very naturally have done, at the advanced state 
 of his relations with Barbara Lake ; or that he had
 
 MISS ]\LUlJORIBANKS. 251 
 
 speculated, and lost money. In either case his depar- 
 ture would have been natural enough, and need not, 
 perhaps, have been accomplished with quite so much 
 precipitation ; but still such a community as that in 
 Grange Lane was in circumstances to comprehend how 
 a young man might take fright and leave home, either 
 because of losing a lot of money, or getting entangled 
 with a drawing-master's daughter. 
 
 The immediate result, so far as society was con- 
 cerned, was one for which people did not know whether 
 to be most glad or sorry. Mrs Woodburn, who kept 
 half the people in Grange Lane in terror of their lives, 
 seemed to have lost all her inspiration now her brother 
 was away. She did not seem to have the heart to 
 take off anybody, which was quite a serious matter for 
 the amusement of the community. To be sure, some 
 people were thankful, as supposing themselves exempt- 
 ed from caricature ; but then unfortunately, as has been 
 said, the people who were most afraid for Mrs Wood- 
 burn were precisely those who were unworthy of her 
 trouble, and had nothing about them to give occupa- 
 tion to her graphic powers. As for Miss Marjoribanks, 
 who had supplied one of the mimic's most effective 
 studies, she was much disturbed by the failure of this 
 element of entertainment. " I have always thought 
 it very strange that I never had , any sense of hum- 
 our," Lucilla said ; '' but it would not do, you know
 
 252 CHEONICLES OF CAELINGFOKD : 
 
 if all the world was like me; and society would be 
 nothing if everybody did not exert themselves to the 
 best of their abilities." There was a mournful in- 
 tonation in Lucilla's voice as she said this ; for, to 
 tell the truth, since Mr Cavendish's departure she had 
 been dreadfully sensible of the utter absence of any 
 man who could flirt. As for Osmond Brown and the 
 other boys of his age, it might be possible to train 
 them, but at the best they were only a provision for 
 the future, and in the mean time Miss Marjoribanks 
 could not but be sensible of her loss. She lamented 
 it with such sincerity that all the world thought her 
 the most perfect actress in existence. " I have no- 
 thing to say against any of you," Lucilla would say, 
 contemplating with the eye of an artist the young 
 men of Grange Lane who were her raw material. " I 
 daresay you will all fall in love with somebody sooner 
 or later, and be very happy and good for nothing ; but 
 you are no assistance in any way to society. It is Mr 
 Cavendish I am sighing for," said the woman of genius, 
 with the candour of a great mind ; and even Mrs 
 Woodburn was beguiled out of her despondency by a 
 study so unparalleled. All this time, however, Lucilla 
 had not forgotten the last look of her faithless admirer 
 as he faced round upon her when Mr Archdeacon 
 Beverley came into the room. She too, like every- 
 body else, wondered innocently why Mr Cavendish had
 
 MISS MARJOEIBANKS. 253 
 
 gone away, and when he was coming back again ; but 
 she never hinted to any one that the Archdeacon had 
 anything to do with it ; for indeed, as she said to her- 
 self, she had no positive evidence except that of a look 
 that the Archdeacon had anything to do with it. By 
 which it will be seen that Miss Marjoribanks's pru- 
 dence equalled her other great qualities. It would 
 be wrong to say, however, that her curiosity was not 
 excited, and that in a very lively way; for the vague' 
 wonder of the public mind over a strange fact, could 
 never be compared in intensity to the surprise and 
 curiosity excited by something one has actually seen, 
 and which gives one, as it were, a share in the secret, 
 — if indeed there was a secret, which was a matter 
 upon which Lucilla within herself had quite made up 
 her mind. 
 
 As for the Archdeacon, the place which he took in 
 society was one quite different from that which had 
 been filled by Mr Cavendish, as, indeed, was natural. 
 He was one of those men who are very strong for the 
 masculine side of Christianity ; and when he was with 
 the ladies, he had a sense that he ought to be paid 
 attention to, instead of taking that trouble in his own 
 person. Miss Marjoribanks was not a woman to be 
 blind to the advantages of this situation, but still, as 
 was to be expected, it took her a little time to get used 
 to it, and to make all the use of it which was practi-
 
 254 CHRONICLES OF CARLINGFORD : 
 
 cable under the circumstances — whicTi was all the more 
 difficult since she was not in the least '' viewy " in her 
 own person, but had been brought up in the old- 
 fashioned orthodox way of having a great respect for 
 religion, and as little to do with 'it as possible, which 
 was a state of mind largely prevalent in Carlingford. 
 But that was not in the least Mr Beverley's way. 
 
 It was when Lucilla's mind was much occupied 
 by this problem that she received a visit quite unex- 
 pectedly one morning from little Rose Lake, who 
 had just at that time a great deal on her mind. For 
 it may easily be supposed that Mr Cavendish's sudden 
 departure, which bewildered the general public who 
 had no special interest in the matter, must have had 
 a still more overwhelming effect upon Barbara Lake, 
 who had just been raised to the very highest pinnacle 
 of hope, closely touching upon reality, when all her 
 expectations collapsed and came to nothing in a mo- 
 ment. She would not believe at first that it could be 
 true ; and then, when it was no longer possible to 
 resist the absolute certainty of Mr Cavendish's depar- 
 ture, her disappointment found vent in every kind of 
 violence — hysterics, and other manifestations of un- 
 reason and self-will. Rose had been obliged to leave 
 the Female School of Design upon her papa's over- 
 burdened shoulders, and stay at home to nurse her 
 sister. Perhaps the little artist was not the best per-
 
 MISS MARJOEIBANKS. 255 
 
 son to take care of a sufferer under such circumstances; 
 for she was neither unreasonable nor self-willed to 
 speak of, though perhaps a little opinionative in her 
 way — and could not be brought to think that a whole 
 household should be disturbed and disordered, and a 
 young woman in good health retire to her room, and 
 lose all control of herself, because a young man, with 
 whom she had no acquintance three months before, 
 had gone out of town unexpectedly. Perhaps it was a 
 want of feeling on the part of the unsympathetic sister. 
 She gave out that Barbara was ill, and kept up a most 
 subdued and anxious countenance down-stairs, for the 
 benefit of the children and the maid-of-all-work, who 
 represented public opinion in Grove Street ; but when 
 Kose went into her sister's room, where Barbara kept 
 the blinds down, and had her face swollen with crying, 
 it was with a very stern countenance that her little 
 mentor regarded the invalid. " I do not ask you to 
 have a sense of duty," Eose said, with a certain fine 
 disdain, " but at least you might have a proper pride." 
 This was all she took the trouble to say ; but it must 
 be admitted that a great deal more to the same effect 
 might be read in her eyes, which were generally so 
 dewy and soft, but which could flash on occasion. 
 And then as the week drew on towards Thursday, and 
 all her representations proved unavailing to induce 
 Barbara to get up and prepare herself for her usual
 
 256 CHRONICLES OF CAELINGFOIID : 
 
 duties, the scorn and vexation and impatience with 
 which the dutiful little soul met her sister's sullen 
 determination that " she was not able " to fulfil hei' 
 ordinary engagements, roused Rose up to a great reso- 
 lution. For her own part she was one of the people 
 who do not understand giving in. "What do you 
 mean by lying there ? " she said, pounding Barbara 
 down small and cutting her to pieces with infallible 
 good-sense and logic ; ''will that do any good ? You 
 would try to look better than usual, and sing better 
 than usual, if you had any proper pride. I did not 
 fall ill when my flounce was passed over at the exhibi- 
 tion. I made up my mind that very evening about 
 the combination for my veil. I would die rather than 
 give in if I were you." 
 
 " Your flounce ! " sobbed Barbara — " oh you unfeel- 
 ing insensible thing ! — as if your h-heart had anything 
 to do with — that. I only went to s-spite Lucilla — and 
 I won't go — no more — oh, no more — now he's been 
 and deserted me. You can't understand my feelings 
 — g-go away and leave me alone." 
 
 " Barbara," said Eose, with solemnity, " I would 
 forgive you if you would not be mean. I don't un- 
 derstand it in one of us. If Mr Cavendish has gone 
 away, it shows that he does not care for you ; and you 
 would scorn him, and scorn to show you were think- 
 ing of him, if you had any proper pride."
 
 MISS MAIUOKIBANKS. 257 
 
 But all the answer Barbara gave was to turn away 
 with a jerk of annoyance the old easy-chair in which 
 she was lying buried, with her hands thrust up into 
 her black hair, and her eyes all red ; upon which Eose 
 left her to carry out her own resolution. She was 
 prompt in all her movements, and she wasted no time 
 on reconsideration. She went down into Grange Lane, 
 her little head erect, and her bright eyes regarding the 
 world with that air of frank recognition and acknow- 
 ledgment -which Eose felt she owed as an artist to her 
 fellow- creatures. They were all good subjects more 
 or less, and the consciousness that she could draw 
 them and immortalise them gave her the same sense 
 of confidence in their friendliness, and her own perfect 
 command of the situation, as a young princess might 
 have felt whose rank protected her like an invisible 
 buckler. Eose, too, walked erect and open-eyed, in the 
 confidence of her rank, which made her everybody's 
 equal. It was in this frame of mind that she arrived 
 at Dr Marjoribanks's house, and found Lucilla, who 
 was very glad to see her. Miss Marjoribanks was 
 pondering deeply on the Archdeacon at that moment, 
 and her little visitor seemed as one sent by heaven to 
 help her out. For to tell the truth, though Lucilla 
 understood all about Mr Cavendish, and men of his 
 description, and how to manage them, and take full 
 use of their powers, even her commanding intelligence 
 
 VOL. I. R
 
 258 CHRONICLES OF CARLINGFOED : 
 
 felt the lack of experience in respect to such a case as 
 that of the Archdeacon, who required a different treat- 
 ment to draw him out. She was thinking it over in- 
 tently at the moment of Eose's arrival, for Lucilla was 
 not a person to give up the advantages of a novel posi- 
 tion because she did not quite understand it. She felt 
 within herself that there was no doubt a great effort 
 might be produced if she could but see how to do it. And 
 it was Thursday morning, and there was no time to lose. 
 " I came to speak to you about Barbara," said 
 Eose. " She is not fit to come out this morning. 
 I told her it was very ungrateful not to make an effort 
 after you had been so kind ; but I am sorry to say she 
 has not a strong sense of duty ; and I don't think she 
 would be able to sing or do anything but look stupid. 
 1 hope you will not think very badly of her. There 
 are some people who can't help giving in, I suppose," 
 said Eose, with an impatient little sigh. 
 
 " And so this is you, you dear little Eose ! " said 
 Lucilla, "and I have never seen you before since I 
 came home — and you always were such a pet of mine 
 at Mount Pleasant ! I can't think why you never 
 came to see me before ; as for me, you know, I never 
 have any time. Poor papa has nobody else to take 
 care of him, and it always was the object of my life to 
 be a comfort to papa." 
 
 " Yes," said Eose, who was a straightforward little
 
 MISS MAEJORIBANKS. 259 
 
 woman, and not given to compliments. '' I have a 
 great deal to do too," she said ; " and then all my 
 spare moments I am working at my design. Papa 
 always says that society accepts artists for what they 
 can give, and does not expect them to sacrifice their 
 time," Kose continued, with her little air of dignity. 
 Miss Maijoribanks knew very well that society was 
 utterly unconscious of the existence of the Lake 
 family ; but then there is always something imposing 
 in such a perfectly innocent and superb assumption 
 as that to which the young Preraphaelite had just 
 given utterance ; and it began to dawn upon Lucilla 
 that here was another imperfectly understood but 
 effective instrument lying ready to her hand. 
 
 " I should like to see your design," said Miss Mar- 
 joribanks, graciously. "You made such a pretty little 
 wreath for the corner of my handkerchief — don't you 
 remember ? — all frogs' legs and things. It looked so 
 sweet in the old satin stitch. What is the matter 
 with poor Barbara ? I felt sure she would catch cold 
 and lose her voice. I shall tell papa to go and see 
 her. As for to-night, it will be a dreadful loss to be 
 sure, for I never could find a voice that went so well 
 with mine. But if you are sure she can't come " 
 
 " When people have not a sense of duty," said Eose, 
 
 with an indignant sigh, " nor any proper pride, 
 
 Some are so different. Barbara oufjht to have been
 
 260 CHRONICLES OF CAELINGFORD : 
 
 some rich person's daughter, with nothing to do. She 
 would not mind being of no use in the world. It is a 
 kind of temjDerament I don't understand," continued 
 the little artist. All this, it is true, was novel to Miss 
 Marjoribanks,who had a kind of prejudice in favour of 
 the daughters of rich persons who had nothing to do ; 
 but Lucilla's genius was broad and catholic, and did not 
 insist upon comprehending everything. She gave Kose 
 a sudden scrutinising look, and measured her mentally 
 against the gap she had to fill. ISTo doubt it was an ex- 
 periment, and might fail signally ;. but then Miss Mar- 
 joribanks was always at hand to cover deficiencies, and 
 she had that confidence in herself and her good-for- 
 tune which is necessary to everybody who greatly 
 dares. 
 
 " You must come yourself this evening, you dear old 
 Eose," said Lucilla. " You know I always was fond of 
 you. Oh yes, I know you can't sing like Barbara. But 
 the Archdeacon is coming, who understands about art ; 
 
 and if you would like to bring your design My 
 
 principle has always been, that there should be a little 
 of everything in society," said Miss Marjoribanks. *' I 
 daresay you will feel a little strange at first with not 
 knowing the people, but that will soon pass off — and 
 you must come." 
 
 When she had said this, Lucilla bestowed upon little 
 Eose a friendly schoolfellow kiss, putting her hands
 
 ]MISS MARJORIBANKS. 261 
 
 upon the little artist's shoulders, and looking her full 
 in the face as she did so. " T am sure you can talk," 
 said ]\Iiss Marjoribanks. She did not say " Go away 
 now, and leave nie to my arrangements ; " but Eose, 
 who was quick-witted, understood that the salute was 
 a dismissal, and she went away accordingly, tingling 
 with pride and excitement and pleasure and a kind of 
 pain. The idea of practically exemplifying, in her own 
 person, the kind of demeanour which society ought to 
 expect from an artist had not occurred to Eose ; but 
 destiny having arranged it so, she was not the woman 
 to withdraw from her responsibilities. She said to 
 herself that it would be shabby for her who was known 
 to have opinions on this subject, to shrink from carry- 
 ing them out ; and stimulated her courage by recourse 
 to her principles, as people do who feel them gel ves 
 bound to lay sacrifices on the altar of duty. Notwith- 
 standing this elevated view of the emergency, it must 
 be admitted that a sudden thought of what she would 
 wear had flushed to Eose's very finger-tips, with 
 a heat and tingle of which the little heroine was 
 ashamed. For it was Thursday morning, and there 
 was not a moment to be lost. However, after the first 
 thrill which this idea had given her, Eose bethought 
 herself once more of her principles, and stilled her 
 beatinor heart. It was not for her to think of what 
 
 o 
 
 she was to put on, she who had so often proclaimed
 
 262 CHEONICLES OF CARLINGFORD. 
 
 the exemption of " a family of artists " from the rules 
 which weigh so hard upon the common world. " We 
 have a rank of our own," she said to herself, but with 
 that tremor which always accompanies the transfer- 
 ence of a purely theoretical and even fantastic rule of 
 conduct into practical ground — " We are everybody's 
 equal, and we are nobody's equal — and when papa 
 begins to be appreciated as he ought to be, and Willie 
 
 has made a Name " This was always the point at 
 
 which Eose broke off, falling into reverie that could 
 not be expressed in words ; but she had no leisure to 
 remark upon the chance " compositions " in the street, 
 or the effects of light and shade, as she went home. 
 A sudden and heavy responsibility had fallen upon 
 her shoulders, and she would have scorned herself had 
 she deserted her post.
 
 CHAPTEK XVIIL 
 
 But the anticipations of Eose Lake were trifling mat- 
 ters in comparison with the universal interest and even 
 excitement which attended the Archdeacon's first ap- 
 pearance in Carlingford. What might be called his 
 first public appearance took place at Dr Marjoribanks's 
 table, although he had previously dined at the Eec- 
 tory, and also at Sir John Eichmond's, besides that 
 there had been somebody to dinner at Colonel Chiley's 
 almost every day ; but then there were only county 
 people at Sir John's, and Mr Bury's guests naturally 
 counted for very little in Grajige Lane ; — indeed, it 
 was confidently reported that the Eector had invited 
 Mr Tufton of Salem Chapel to meet the Archdeacon, 
 and that, but for the Dissenting minister having more 
 sense and knowing his place, that unseejnly conjunc- 
 tion would have taken place, to the horror of all right- 
 thinking people. So that Dr Marjoribanks's was in 
 reality the first house where he had any chance of
 
 264 CHRONICLES OF CAELINGFOED : 
 
 seeing society. It would perhaps be using too strong 
 a word to say that Miss Marjoribanks was anxious 
 about the success of her arrangements for this parti- 
 cular evening ; but, at the same time, it must be ad- 
 mitted that the circumstances were such as to justify 
 a little anxiety. Mr Cavendish was gone, who, to do 
 him justice, was always agreeable, and his departure 
 disturbed the habitual party ; and Mrs Woodbum had 
 lost all her powers, as it seemed, and sat at Dr Marjo- 
 ribanks's left hand, looking just like other people, and 
 evidently not to be in the least depended on ; and Lu- 
 cilla was aware that Barbara was not coming, which 
 made, if nothing else, a change in the programme. 
 No music, nobody to do the flirting, nor to supply the 
 dramatic by-play to which Grange Lane had become 
 accustomed ; and a new man to be made use of, 
 and to be done honour to, and introduced in society. 
 A young woman of powers inferior to those of Miss 
 Marjoribanks would have sunk under such a weight of 
 responsibility, and there was no doubt that Lucilla 
 was a little excited. She felt that everything depended 
 upon her courage and self-possession. If she but lost 
 her head for a moment and lost command of affairs, 
 everything lyight have been lost ; but then fortunately 
 she knew herself and what she could do, and had a 
 modest confidence that she would not lose her head ; 
 and thus she could still eat her dinner with the com-
 
 MISS MAEJOEIBANKS. 265 
 
 posure of genius, though it would be wrong to deny- 
 that Lucilla was a little pale. 
 
 And then, as if all these things had not been enough 
 to discourage the lady of the house, another discordant 
 element was added by the presence of Mr Bury and his 
 sister, whom it had been necessary to ask to meet the 
 Archdeacon. The Rector, though he was very Low- 
 Church, had no particular objections to a good dinner 
 — but he made a principle of talking of that import- 
 ant daily necessity in a disparaging, or at best in a 
 patronising way, which roused Dr Marjoribanks's tem- 
 per ; and sometimes the Doctor would launch a shaft 
 of medical wit at his spiritual guide, which Mr Bury 
 had no means of parrying. Nor was this the only 
 danger to which the peace of the party was exposed. 
 For the Picctor, at the same time, regarded J\lr Beverley 
 ^^T.th a certain critical suspiciousness, such as is seldom 
 to be encountered except among clergymen. He did 
 not know much about his clerical superior, who had 
 only recently been appointed to his archdeaconry ; but 
 there was something in his air, his looks and demean- 
 our, which indicated what Mr Bury considered a loose 
 way of thinking. When the Archdeacon made any 
 remark the Rector would pause and look up from his 
 plate to listen to it, with his fork suspended in the air 
 the while — and then he would exchange glances with 
 his sister, who was on the other side of the table. All
 
 266 CHRONICLES OF CARLINGFORD : 
 
 this, it may be supposed, was a little discomposing for 
 Lucilla, who had the responsibility of everything, and 
 who could now look for no assistance among the ordi- 
 nary members of her father's party, who were, as a gen- 
 eral rule, much more occupied with the dinner than 
 with anything else that was going on. In such a state 
 of afiairs, it was a great relief to Miss Marjoribanks when 
 the Archdeacon, who occupied the post of honour by her 
 side, made a lively new beginning in the conversation. 
 It had not to call flagged before — not precisely flagged 
 — but still there were indications of approaching ex- 
 haustion, such as can always be perceived half-a-mile 
 off by anybody who has any experience in society ; and 
 when the Archdeacon took up the ball with all the 
 liveliness of a man who is interested in a special 
 question, it will not be difficult to any lady who has 
 ever been in such circumstances to realise to herself 
 Miss Marjoribanks's sense of gratitude and relief 
 
 " By the by," said Mr Beverley, " 1 meant to ask if 
 any one knew a man whom I am sure I caught a 
 glimpse of the first day I was in Carlingford. Per- 
 haps it was in the morning after I arrived, to be pre- 
 cise. I can't recollect exactly. If he lives about here, 
 he ought to be known, for he is a very clever amusing 
 sort of fellow. I don't know if Carlingford is more 
 blessed than other country towns with people of that 
 complexion," said the Archdeacon, turning to Lucilla
 
 MISS MARJOEIBANKS. 267 
 
 with a smile. His smile, as he paused and turned to 
 Miss Maijoribanks, was such as conveys a kind of 
 challenge when it is addressed to a young lady, and 
 meant to lead to a lively little combat by the way ; 
 and yet there was something of keen personal anxiety 
 and animosity in it. As for Lucilla, she was conscious 
 of an immediate thrill of curiosity, but still it was 
 curiosity unmingled with any excitement, and she had 
 no particular objection to respond. 
 
 " Everybody is nice in Carlingford," said Miss Mar- 
 joribanks ; " some people are always finding fault with 
 their neighbours, but I always get on so well with 
 everybody — I suppose it is my luck." This was not 
 precisely an answer to the Archdeacon's question ; and 
 there was somebody at the table who could have fallen 
 upon Lucilla and beaten her for putting off the revela- 
 tion which trembled on the lips of Mr Beverley, and 
 yet would have given anything in the world to silence 
 the Archdeacon, and felt capable of rushing at him 
 like a fury and tearing his tongue out, or suffocating 
 him, to stop the next words that he was going to say. 
 But nobody, knew anything about this, or could see 
 into the one heart that had begun to flutter and 
 throb with alarm ; for outwardly, all the well-dressed, 
 cheerful people at Dr Marjoribanks's table sat eating 
 their dinner, one precisely like another, as if there had 
 been no such thing as mystery or terror in the world.
 
 268 CHRONICLES OF CARLINGFORD : 
 
 " You must not expect me to believe in the perfec- 
 tion of human society/' said the Archdeacon, going on 
 in the same strain; "I would much rather pin my 
 faith to the amiable dispositions of one young lady 
 who always finds her neighbours agreeable — and I 
 hope she makes no exception to the rule," said the 
 Broad-Churchman in a parenthesis, with a smile and 
 a bow — and then he raised his voice a little : " The 
 man I speak of is really a very amusing fellow, 
 and very well got up, and calculated to impose upon 
 ordinary observers. It is quite a curious story ; he 
 was a son of a trainer or something of that sort about 
 Newmarket. Old Lord Monmouth took an extraordi- 
 nary fancy to him, and had him constantly about his 
 place — at one time, indeed, he half brought him up 
 along with his grandson, you know. He always was 
 a handsome fellow, and picked up a little polish ; 
 and really, for people not quite used to the real thing, 
 was as nearly like a gentleman " 
 
 " Come, now, I don't put any faith in that," said 
 Mr Woodburn. "I don't pretend to be much of a 
 one for fine comjDany myself, but I know a gentle- 
 man when I see him ; a snob always overdoes it, 
 you know-" — " 
 
 " I never said this man was a snob," said the Arch- 
 deacon, with a refined expression of disgust at the in- 
 terruption flitting over his features ; " on the contrary,
 
 MISS MAEJOEIBANKS. 269 
 
 if he had only been honest, he would have been really 
 a very nice fellow " 
 
 " My dear sir," said Mr Bury, " excuse me for break- 
 ing in — perhaps I arn old-fashioned, but don't you 
 think it's a pity to treat the question of honesty so 
 lightly ? A dishonest person has a precious soul to be 
 saved, and maybe a most deeply interesting character; 
 but to speak of him as a very nice fellow, is — pardon 
 me — I think it's a pity ; especially in mixed society, 
 where it is so important for a clergyman to be guarded 
 in his expressions,'' said the Eector. When Mr Bury 
 began to speak, everybody else at table ceased talking, 
 and gave serious attention to what was going on, for 
 the prospect of a passage of arms between the two 
 clergymen was an opportunity too captivating to be 
 lost. 
 
 " I hope Mr Bury's dishonest friends will pardon 
 me," said the Archdeacon ; " I mean no harm to their 
 superior claims. Does anybody know the man here, 
 I wonder ? He had changed his name when I knew 
 him, and there is no telling what he may call himself 
 now. I assure you he was a very good-looking fellow 
 — dark, good features, nearly six feet high " 
 
 " Oh please don't say any more," said Miss Marjori- 
 banks, and she could not quite have explained why she 
 interrupted these personal details ; " if you tell me 
 what he is like, I shall fancy everybody I meet is him ;
 
 270 CHRONICLES OF CAELINGFORD : 
 
 Mr Centum is dark, and has good features, and is 
 nearly six feet high. Never mind, what he is like ; 
 you gentlemen can never describe anybody — you al- 
 ways keep to generals ; tell us what he has done." 
 
 Somebody drew a long breath at the table when the 
 Archdeacon obeyed Miss Marjoribanks's injunction. 
 More than one person caught the sound, but even 
 Lucilla's keen eyes could not make out beyond contro- 
 versy from whom it proceeded. To be sure, Lucilla's 
 mind was in a most curious state of tumult and con- 
 fusion. She was not one of the people who take a 
 longtime to form their conclusions; but the natural 
 conclusion to which she felt inclined to jump in this 
 case was one so monstrous and incredible that Miss 
 Marjoribanks felt her only safeguard in the whirl of 
 possibilities was to reject it altogether, and make up 
 her mind that it was impossible ; and then all the cor- 
 respondences and apparent corroborations began to 
 dance and whirl about her in a bewildering ring till 
 her own brain seemed to spin with them. She was as 
 much afraid lest the Archdeacon by some chance should 
 fall upon a really individual feature which the world in 
 general could identify, as if she had had any real con- 
 cern in the matter. But then, fortunately, there was 
 not much chance of that ; for it was one of Lucilla's 
 principles that men never can describe each other. 
 She listened, however, with such a curious commotion
 
 MISS MARJORIBANI^S. 271 
 
 in her mind, that she did not quite make out what he 
 was saying, and only pieced it up in little bits from 
 memory afterwards. Not that it was a very dreadful 
 story. It was not a narrative of robbery or murder, 
 or anything very alarming ; but if it could by any 
 possibility turn out that the man of whom Mr Bever- 
 ley was speaking had ever been received in society in 
 Carlingford, then it would be a dreadful blow to the 
 community, and destroy public confidence for ever in 
 the social leaders. This was what Lucilla was think- 
 ing in her sudden turmoil of amazement and ap- 
 prehension. And all this time there was another 
 person at table who knew all about it twenty times 
 better than Lucilla, and knew what was coming, and 
 had a still more intense terror lest some personal de- 
 tail might drop from the Archdeacon's lips which the 
 public in general would recognise. Mr Beverley went 
 on with his story with a curious sort of personal keen- 
 ness in his way of telling it, but never dreaming for a 
 moment that anybody that heard him was disturbed 
 or excited by it. " He has a mark on his face," the 
 Archdeacon said — but here Miss Marjoribanks gave a 
 little cry, and held up both her hands in dismay. 
 
 " Don't tell us what marks he has on his face," said 
 Lucilla. " I know that I shall think every man who 
 is dark, and has good features, and is six feet, must be 
 him. I wonder if it could be my cousin Tom ; he has
 
 272 CHRONICLES OF CAELINGFORD : 
 
 a little mark on his face — and it would be just like his 
 dreadful luck, poor fellow. Would it be right to give 
 up one's own cousin if it should turn out to be Tom ? " 
 said ]\Iiss Marjoribanks. The people who were sitting 
 at her end of the table laughed, but there was no 
 laughing in Lucilla's mind. And this fright and panic 
 were poor preparatives for the evening, which had to 
 be got through creditably with so few resources, and 
 with such a total reversal of the ordinary programme. 
 Miss Marjoribanks was still tingling with curiosity 
 and alarm when she rose from the table. If it should 
 really come to pass that an adventurer had been re- 
 ceived into the best society of Carlingford, and that the 
 best judges had not been able to discriminate between 
 the false and true, how could any one expect that 
 Grange Lane would continue to confide its most im- 
 portant arrangements to such incompetent hands ? 
 
 Such was the dreadful question that occupied all 
 Lucnia's thoughts. So far as the adventurer himself 
 was concerned, no doubt he deserved anything that 
 might come upon him ; but the judgment which might 
 overtake the careless shepherds who had admitted the 
 wolf into the fold was much more in Miss Marjori- 
 banks's mind than any question of abstract justice. 
 So that it was not entirely with a philanthropical 
 intention that she stopped Mr Beverley and put an end 
 to his dangerous details. Now she came to think of
 
 MISS MAKJOKIBANKS. ^ 27^ 
 
 it, she began to remember that nobody of her acqitaint- 
 ancc had any mark on his face ; but still it was best 
 not to inquire too closely. It was thus with a pre- 
 occupied mind that she went up to the drawing-room, 
 feeling less in spirits for her work than on any previous 
 occasion. It was the first of the unlucky nights, which 
 every woman of Lucilla's large and public-spirited 
 views must calculate upon as inevitable now and then. 
 There was no moon, and the Eichmonds naturally 
 were absent, and so were the Miss Browns, who were 
 staying there on a visit — for it was after the engage- 
 ment between Lydia* and John ; and Mr Cavendish 
 was away (though perhaps under the circumstances 
 that was no disadvantage) ; and Mrs Woodburn was 
 silenced ; and even Barbara Lake had failed her 
 patroness. 
 
 " You are not in spirits to-night, Lucilla, my poor 
 dear," said Mrs Chiley, as they went up-stairs ; and 
 the kind old lady cast a fierce glance at Mrs Woodburn, 
 who was going before them with Miss Bury, as if it 
 could be her fault. 
 
 " Dear Mrs Chiley," said Miss Marjoribanks, " I am 
 in perfect spirits ; it is only the responsibility, you 
 
 * It may be mentioned here that this was an engagement that 
 none of the friends ajjproved of, and that it was the greatest 
 possible comfort to Miss Marjoribanks's mind that she had no- 
 thing to do with it — either one way or another, as she said. 
 
 VOL. I. S
 
 274 CHRONICLES OF CAELINGFOED : 
 
 know. Poor Barbara is ill, and we can't have any 
 music, and what if people should be bored? When 
 one has real friends to stand by one it is different/' 
 said Lucilla, with an intonation that was not in- 
 tended for Mrs Chiley, "and I always stand by 
 my friends." 
 
 This was the spirit with which Miss Marjoribanks 
 went up-stairs. It was a sentiment which pervaded her 
 whole life. Even when she had occasion to be suffici- 
 ently displeased with the people who surrounded her, 
 and to feel that her own loyal friendship met with no 
 adequate response, this was the unfailing inspiration 
 of her heart. She did not rush into opposition because 
 any misguided man or woman failed for the moment to 
 appreciate her efforts, and return, as they ought to have 
 been glad to do, her sentiments of kindness. On the 
 contrary, nothing could have been more long-suffering 
 and tolerant and benign than the feelings with which 
 Lucilla regarded the unfortunate persons who mistook 
 or did not appreciate her. She knew herself, which, 
 however superior they might be, was something they 
 could not know ; and she could afford to be sorry (for 
 their own sakes) for their want of discrimination. If 
 there should happen to be somebody in Grange Lane 
 who had gained admittance into society under false 
 pretences, not even such an offence, grievous as it was, 
 could induce Miss Marjoribanks to condemn the culprit
 
 MISS MAEJOKIBANKS. 275 
 
 unheard. It was at once her settled resolution, and a 
 peculiarity of her character, to stand by her friends ; 
 and whatever mioht be the thouo-hts in her own mind, 
 her immediate decision was to shut her ears to every 
 indication of the culprit's personality, and to be blind 
 to every suggestion that could identify him. People 
 who like to discover the alloy which blends with- all 
 human motives, may suppose that Lucilla felt her own 
 credit as the leader of society at stake, and would not 
 admit that she had been duped. But this had in 
 reality but a very small share in the matter. Her in- 
 stinct, even when reason suggested that she should be 
 doubtful of them, was always to side with her own 
 friends; and though there might be persons included 
 in that sacred number who were scarcely worthy of 
 the character, yet Lucilla, like every lofty character, 
 could act but according to her own nature, and could 
 not forsake any one whom she supposed to be thus 
 mysteriously and darkly assailed. 
 
 And she had her reward. There are virtues in this 
 world which go without any recompense, but there are 
 other virtues upon which a prompt guerdon is be- 
 stowed ; and Lucilla possessed this happier develop- 
 ment. Whether it was that little speech of hers 
 which touched the mimic's heart, or whether the 
 effect was produced by some other secret influence, it 
 is certain that this was the nidit on which Mrs Wood-
 
 276 CHRONICLES OF CAELINGFORD : 
 
 burn's talent came to what may be called a sort of 
 apotheosis. She shook off her languor as by a sudden 
 inspiration, and gave such a sketch of the Archdeacon 
 as up to this day is remembered more clearly in Car- 
 lingford than the man himself. She took him off to 
 his very face, and he never found it out, though every- 
 body else did, and the house shook with restrained 
 laughter. And as if this was not enough. Rose Lake 
 had come with her portfolio, with some sketches of her 
 brother's (who afterwards became so celebrated) in it, 
 which electrified all the people who were fond of art ; 
 and by the side of the young Preraphaelite was Bar- 
 bara, who had come " to spite Lucilla," and who re- 
 mained unwittingly to grace her triumph, ^he stood 
 by herself, all wan and crumpled, all the night, showing 
 her disappointment and rage and jilted state so clearly 
 in her face, as to afford to all the mammas in her 
 neighbourhood a most startling example of the danger 
 of showing your feelings, with which to point a moral 
 to the other young people about. She had come be- 
 cause Eose was coming, and she would not be eclipsed 
 by her younger sister. But nobody took any notice of 
 Barbara on this miserable evening ; nobody asked her 
 to sing, or offered her a seat, or even spoke to her, ex- 
 cept Lucilla, who in her magnanimity found time to 
 say a word as she passed. She was carelessly dressed, 
 and her hair was hastily arranged, and her eyes were
 
 I^IISS IVTARJOEIBANKS. 277 
 
 red. She had no desire to look as if she had not been 
 jilted, and had no proper pride, as Eose said ; and Mrs 
 Chiley, who was Lucilhvs partisan and champion, and 
 who thouo-ht poor Barbara deserved it all, seized 
 the opportunity, and delivered a little lecture on 
 the subject to the first group of girls who came in 
 her way. 
 
 " A disappointment may happen to any one," said 
 Mrs Chiley ; " and so long as they had done nothing 
 unbecoming, nobody could blame tliem ; but, my dears, 
 whatever you do, don't show it like that ! It makes 
 me ashamed of my sex. And only look at Lucilla ! " 
 said the old lady. Lucilla had the best of it now. 
 Instead of a failure, such as for a moment seemed 
 likely, she had a triumphant success. She, and she 
 only, said a word of kindness to her formerly triumph- 
 ant rival. She drove her chariot over Barbara, and 
 drew an advantage even from her sullen looks and 
 red eyes. And the only thing that dissatisfied Mrs 
 Chiley in the entire course of the evening was the 
 trustful confidence with which Miss Marjoribanks left 
 the Archdeacon, the (possible) new candidate for her 
 favour, beside the Lakes and their portfolio of draw- 
 ings. In this, as in all other things, Lucilla could not 
 but follow the dictates of her magnanimous nature. 
 And even her own prospects, as her old friend lament- 
 ed, were as nothing to her in comparison with the
 
 278 CHRONICLES OF CARLINGFOKD : 
 
 good of society. Experience ought to have taught her 
 better ; but then experience rarely does that amount 
 of practical good which is generally attributed to it in 
 the world. Lucilla gave little Eose the fullest oppor- 
 tunity of showing her drawings to the Archdeacon 
 and awakening his curiosity, and even securing his 
 affections, as the jealous observer thought; and every- 
 body knows how little is necessary, if a young woman 
 likes to exert herself, to lead a poor man to his undo- 
 ing; and Mr Beverley, though an archdeacon, was 
 most probably, in this respect at least, no wiser than 
 other men. This was the painful aspect of the case 
 which Mrs Chiley discussed with her husband when 
 they got home. 
 
 '' He is not like what clergymen were in our day," 
 said the old lady, " but still he is very nice, and has 
 a nice position, and it would just suit Lucilla ; but 
 to think of her going and leaving him with these 
 Lake girls, notwithstanding the lesson she has had ! 
 and I have no doubt the little one is just as design- 
 ing and nasty as the other. If it should come to 
 anything, she has only herself to blame," said Mrs 
 Chiley. As for the Colonel, he took it more calmly, 
 as a gentleman might be expected to do. 
 
 "You may trust a parson for that," said the old 
 soldier. " He knows what he is about. You will 
 never find him make such an ass of himself as young
 
 MISS MAEJORIBANKS. 279 
 
 Cavendish did." But this only made Mrs Chiley sigh 
 the more. 
 
 " Poor Mr Cavendish ! " said the old lady. " I will 
 never blame him, poor fellow. It was all that deceitful 
 thing laying her snares for him. For my part I never 
 like to have anything to do with those artist kind of 
 people — they are all adventurers/' said the Colonel's 
 wife ; and she went to bed with this unchristian per- 
 suasion in her mind. 
 
 While every one else regarded the matter with, to 
 some extent, a personal bias, the only person who 
 looked at it abstractly, and contemplated not the acci- 
 dents of an evening, but the work itself, which was 
 progressing in the face of all kinds of social difficul- 
 ties, was the master-mind which first conceived the 
 grand design of turning the chaotic elements of society 
 in Carlingford into one grand unity. Lucilla was not 
 blind to the dangers that surrounded her, nor indifFer- 
 ent to the partial disappointment she had undergone ; 
 but she saw that, in spite of all, her great work was 
 making progress. And when we announce that Miss 
 ]\Iarjoribanks herself was satisfied, there remains little 
 more to say. 
 
 As for the Archdeacon, he, as was natural, knew 
 nothing about the matter. He said again, with the 
 natural obtuseness which is so general among the 
 gentlemen, that it had been a very pleasant party.
 
 280 CHRONICLES OF CARLINGFOED : 
 
 " She has a fine clear candid nature/' said Mr Bever- 
 ley, which certainly was better than pronouncing so- 
 lemnly that she was a good woman, which was what 
 he said of Mrs Chiley and Lady Eichmond, in the 
 lump, as it were, without considering how unlike 
 they were to each other. That was all he, being 
 only a man, knew about it. But though Lucilla 
 was satisfied with the events of the evening, it 
 would be vain to deny that there were perturba- 
 tions in her mind as she laid her head upon her 
 maiden pillow. She said to herself again with pro- 
 founder fervour, that fortunately her affections had 
 not been engaged ; but there were more things than 
 affections to be taken into consideration. Could it be 
 possible that mystery, and perhaps imposture, of one 
 kind or another, had crossed the sacred threshold of 
 Grange Lane ; and that people might find out and 
 cast in Lucilla's face the dreadful discovery that a 
 man had been received in her house who was not what 
 he appeared to be ? When such an idea crossed her 
 mind. Miss Marjoribanks shivered under her satin 
 quilt. Of course she could not change the nature of 
 the fact one way or another ; but, at least, it was her 
 duty to act with great circumspection, so that if pos- 
 sible it might not be found out — for Lucilla appre- 
 ciated fully the difference that exists between wrong
 
 MISS MARJORIBANKS. 281 
 
 and discovery. If any man was imposing ujDon his 
 neighbours and teUing lies about himself, it was his 
 ovni fault ; but if a leader of society were to betray 
 the fact of having received and petted such a person, 
 then the responsibility was on her shoulders. And 
 softer thoughts mingled with these prudential con- 
 siderations — that sweet yet stern resolution to stand 
 by her friends which Miss Marjoribanks had this 
 evening expressed, and that sense of pity for every- 
 body who is unfortunate which asserts itself even in 
 the strongest of female intelligences. On the whole, 
 it was clear that prudence was the great thing re- 
 quired, and a determination not to give too hasty 
 heed to anything, nor to put herself in the wrong 
 by any alarmist policy. Fortunately the respecta- 
 bility of Dr Marjoribanks's house was enough to 
 cover its guests with a shining buckler. Thus Lu- 
 cilla calmed down her own apprehensions, and suc- 
 ceeded in convincing herself that if the impostor whom 
 the Archdeacon had seen had been really received in 
 Grange Lane, it was so much the worse for the im- 
 postor; but that, in the mean time, in the lack of 
 evidence it was much the best thing to take no notice. 
 If there was any one else in Carlingford who regarded 
 that past danger with a livelier horror and a more 
 distinct fear, certainly Miss Marjoribanks had no way
 
 282 CHRONICLES OF CAELIXGFOED : 
 
 of knowing of it ; and nobody had been remarked as 
 being in a despondent condition, or, indeed, in any- 
 thing but the highest spirits, in the course of this 
 Thursday, except the ungrateful creature, who had 
 begun all the mischief; and tolerant as Lucilla was, it 
 would have been going beyond the limits of nature 
 to have expected that she could have been profoundly 
 sorry for Barbara Lake. 
 
 At the same time, poor Barbara, though she was 
 not an elevated character, had gone home in a very 
 sad state of mind. She had taken courage to ask Mrs 
 Woodburn about her brother, and Mrs Woodburn had 
 made the very briefest and rudest response to her 
 question, and had "taken off" her woe-begone looks 
 almost to her very face. And no one had shown the 
 least sympathy for the forsaken one. She had not 
 even been called from her solitude to sing, which 
 mi^ht have been somethino; and it was Eose, as she 
 said to herself, who had attracted all the attention ; 
 for, like most selfish people, Barbara, though keenly 
 aware of her own wrongs, had no eyes to perceive 
 that Rose, who had a proud little spirit, was anything 
 but satisfied with the evening's entertainment, to 
 which she had herself so largely contributed. "I 
 feel as if I should never see him more," Barbara 
 said, quite subdued and broken down, with a burst
 
 MISS MARJORIBANKS. 283 
 
 of tears, as the two went home ; and poor little Eose, 
 who was soft-hearted, forgot all her disapprobation in 
 sympathy. " Never mind them, dear ; they have no 
 feelino*. ^Ye must clino- tooether all the closer, and 
 try to be everything to each other," Rose said, with 
 eyes which w^re full, but which would not shed any 
 tears. What was passing through her own mind was, 
 that it was not for herself, but for her portfolio and 
 the talk that arose over it, that Lucilla had asked 
 her ; but, at the same time, she said to herself, that 
 all that was nothing in comparison to the wound 
 of the heart under which Barbara was suffering. 
 " Dear, never mind, we will be everything to each 
 other," said poor little romantic Rose ; and the elder 
 sister, even in the depths of her dejection, could have 
 given her a good shake for uttering such an absurd 
 sentiment ; for a great deal of good it would do to be 
 everything to each other — as if that could ever replace 
 the orange blossoms and the wedding tour, and the 
 carriage and handsome house, which were included in 
 the name of Cavendish ! " And he was such a dear ! " 
 she said to herself in her own mind, and wept, and 
 made her eyes redder and redder. If Mr Cavendish 
 had known all that was going on in Carlingford that 
 night, the chances are that he would have been most 
 flattered by those tears which Barbara shed for him
 
 284 -^HEONICLES OF CAELINGFOED. 
 
 under the lamps in Grove Street ; but then it is to be 
 hoped he would not have been insensible either to the 
 just reticence and self-restraint which, mingling with 
 Miss Marjoribanks's suspicions, prevented her, as she 
 herself said, even in the deepest seclusion of her own 
 thoughts, from naming any name. 
 
 END OF THE FIRST VOLUME. 
 
 PRINTED BY WILLIAM BLACKWOOD AND SONS, EDINBURGH. 
 
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