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 J
 
 TEEASON AT HOME;" ^ 
 
 A NOVEL. 
 
 IN THREE VOLUMES. 
 
 BY 
 
 MRS. GREENOUGHt 
 
 VOL. L 
 
 T. CAUTLEY NEWBY, PUBLISHER, 
 30, WELBECK STREET, CAVENDISH SQUARE, 
 
 1865. 
 [the eight of translation is reserved.]
 
 r 
 
 ^ 
 
 k 
 
 
 1^, I 
 
 ^^ TREASO]^ AT HOME. 
 
 H CHAPTER I. 
 
 I- 
 
 (^ Twilight was settlino^ over the landscape, as a 
 young man, tall and athletic, turned into the 
 deeper shadow of the avenue which led to Arden 
 ^ Hall. A carriage which servants were busily 
 ^ engaged in unpacking, stood before the open 
 door. Quickening his pace he crossed the dark 
 hall, and pausing for an instant on the threshold 
 of the drawing-room, cast a quick glance on the 
 persons within. 
 ^ In a low easy chair sat his aunt, Mrs. Arden. 
 ^ She was a small, spare woman, with insignificant 
 
 ^ VOL. 1. B 
 
 
 ^
 
 2 TREASON AT HOME. 
 
 features, and hair and complexion of a faded 
 straw colour ; but this physiognomy, which 
 seemed intended by nature for the quietest of 
 roles^ was accompanied by two startled-looking 
 greenish-grey eyes, which had a habit of in- 
 cessantly roving hither, thither, and everywhere. 
 These eyes were placed beneath two scanty eye- 
 brows, which, raised and permanently retained a 
 full half inch above their natural level, communi- 
 cated an expression of distrustful expectation to 
 the rest of her face, an expression which in no 
 wise belied the habitual state of her mind. For 
 Mrs. Arden possessed an unbounded love of the 
 marvellous, and was endowed with an insatiable 
 appetite for all things melancholy and grievous 
 in the recital. Nor was this propensity dwarfed 
 by any want of proper sustenance. She breakfasted 
 v» ith the '* Times " in her hand, and devoured 
 muffins and manslaughters alternately. She 
 lunched upon the last sensation novel, and supped, 
 faithful to her ascending scale, on the ghostly 
 literature of the present and the past. Nothing
 
 TREASON AT HOME. 3 
 
 had proved too dry for her perseverance, did but 
 the supernatural mingle largely enough with it. 
 Works on necromancy, on astrology, on alchemy, 
 crowded the shelves of her private bookcase, side 
 by side with haunted legends of every country 
 and every age. Nor was there any danger of this 
 stream running dry. A new influx of the pre- 
 ternatural had recently made its way to Arden 
 Hall. The lower cupboard of that same book- 
 case was crammed to overflowing with contem- 
 poraneous publications, principally from France, 
 attesting positive and incontrovertible facts, so 
 utterly astounding as, in Mrs. Arden's opinion, 
 to throw all previous human experiences into the 
 shade, proving spirits to be but men minus mem- 
 bers, and triumphantly refuting the vulgar belief 
 that Heaven is a place of rest. 
 
 Mrs. Arden, at this present time, though con- 
 stantly on the qui mm for apparitions and visit- 
 ations, had nevertheless been left to maintain 
 her faith solely on the experiences of others. A 
 good soul she was, au reste, kindly hearted, 
 
 B 2
 
 4 TREASON AT HOME. 
 
 aiFectionate, and charitable ; her foibles in no 
 wise diminishing the activity of her naturally 
 amiable qualities, though occasionally prompting 
 somewhat peculiar and obtrusive manifestations 
 of the same. 
 
 But at the moment of her nephew's appearance 
 on the threshold of the drawing-room, activity 
 did not seem to be at all Mrs. Arden's mood. 
 Her head inclined slightly on one side, she was 
 contemplating with an expression of compassionate 
 melancholy a young girl who sat leaning back upon 
 the sofa, beside a man a little past the prime of life. 
 Ker scrutiny appeared to annoy her visitor, if 
 one might judge by her resolutely down- cast 
 eyes and constrained attitude. The young man 
 was not at that moment able to pursue his in- 
 vestigation further, for as, after his momentary 
 pause, he advanced, the gentleman beside her 
 rose and held out his hand. 
 
 A bald-headed, stately man was John Arden, 
 with ample forehead, aquiline nose, and com- 
 pressed lips. As his cold eye rested upon the young
 
 TREASON AT HOME. 6 
 
 man J it took a colder gleam ; as he smiled an 
 answer to his greeting, a concealed sneer vibrated 
 around his mouth. He was weighing him by 
 his own standard, and noting how much he was 
 wanting. 
 
 " Edith, my dear, your cousin Walter," said 
 Mrs. Arden, as her nephew turned towards the 
 girl. 
 
 She rose, curtseyed frigidly, without raising 
 her eyes, then resumed her seat. 
 
 " What a strange old picture she looks like," 
 thought Walter to himself, while in his frank, 
 rino^ino: voice he welcomed the new comer. Nor 
 was the comment inappropriate. 
 
 The girl's small, pale features were framed in 
 a mass of half-curled golden hair, the long 
 lashes that rested on her colourless cheeks but 
 partly concealed the dark circles beneath her eyes. 
 The delicacy of her appearance was heightened by 
 the richness of her attire. Her dress was trim- 
 med with a profusion of ornament, manifestly
 
 6 TREASON AT HOME. 
 
 unsuitable to her age. She looked like some old 
 portrait of a childish Infanta, which had lost its 
 way, from some ancient palace, into life. 
 
 But a few words had been exchanged between 
 the two men, when a strange maid presented 
 herself at the door. 
 
 "" Your room's ready, Miss." 
 
 " Bad face, that," thought Walter. 
 
 A very bad face it was. 
 
 Edith rose, and, raising her eyes for the first 
 time looked wistfully in her father's face, — they 
 were large, crystalline eyes, dark, but by the 
 lamplight one could not see of what colour. 
 
 The hard visage of the banker softened as he 
 looked at her. 
 
 " I must bid you good night and good-bye at 
 once, my pet," he said, ''for I start early, to 
 take the train, you know." 
 
 ''Come to my door to-morrow morning," she 
 said, in a low voice, but not so low that it escaped 
 the maid^s ear. " If you please, sir," she said,
 
 TREASON AT HOME. 
 
 comiag forward, " the doctor was very particular 
 that Miss Arden was not to be disturbed in the 
 
 morning." 
 
 Edith's brows contracted, her cheeks flushed a 
 little. 
 
 " You won't disturb me, papa, I shall be 
 awake.'' 
 
 Her father hesitated. 
 
 " Indeed, Miss — " the maid began. 
 
 Edith turned abruptly from her. 
 
 " Brenton knows best ; Pm afraid," said j\fr. 
 Arden. 
 
 " Pray come," Edith repeated. 
 
 Her father yielded to the urgency of her tone. 
 As he kissed her, she trembled visibly, but im- 
 mediately recovering herself, with a reverence to 
 Mrs. Arden, withdrew. 
 
 Silence followed her departure. 
 
 Her father seemed absorbed in painful thought. 
 Walter sat recalling her singular appearance and 
 wondering what sort of inmate she would prove, — 
 the prospect was not promising, he was compelled
 
 8 TREASON AT HOME. 
 
 to confess, — while Mrs. Arden's face worked in 
 the way that betokened with her the advent of 
 some new idea. She began to shift herself about 
 in her easy chair, to cross first the left toe of 
 her satin slipper over the right, and then the 
 right over the left, in rapid alternation ; her eyes 
 made the tour of the room several times, at each 
 return resting an instant on John Arden's face, as 
 if to ascertain whether he were in a mood for re- 
 ceiving what she had to say. At length, as if they 
 could be withheld no longer, the words broke 
 from her. 
 
 " It's Lady Pettigrew's Panacea, that she 
 wants ! '' 
 
 Mr. Arden looked up inquiringly, '^I beg 
 your pardon. What did you say ? " 
 
 " It's Lady Pettigrew's Panacea, that she 
 wants," repeated Mrs. Arden, with the air of a 
 Napoleon espying a weak point in the enemy's 
 centre. " There never was anything like it. It 
 works wonders. There's nothing that it won't 
 do. If you had only seen Walter when he first
 
 TBEASON AT HOME. 9 
 
 came liere ten years ago ! He was almost as 
 tall as he is now, and so thin and so pale that it 
 was dreadful to look at him, positively dreadful. 
 I thought he wouldn't live, and I told his uncle 
 so ; but J I said, there's one thing that may save 
 him, and that's Lady Pettigrew's Panacea, and I 
 mean to try it. His uncle thought it wouldn't 
 do him any good, but I wasn't going to see him 
 sink into his grave without a struggle, so I sent 
 off the next day and bought twelve bottles of it. 
 They lasted him about three months. 1 kept*a 
 close look out, and as soon as one bottle was empty 
 I put another full one into his room, and so on 
 till they were all gone. He complained a little 
 the first day or two, but he soon got used to the 
 taste, and said no more about it, and by the time 
 the twelve bottles were finished he looked like 
 another creature. I never can be grateful enough 
 to Lady Pettigrew's Panacea, never ! " 
 
 Walter made no comment on his aunt's 
 harangue, unless a certain twitching of his brown 
 moustache might be considered as such. He had 
 
 B 5
 
 10 TREASON AT HOME. 
 
 never judged it expedient to inform her that he 
 had, on the third day after his arrival at Arden 
 Hall gone privately to his uncle and informed 
 him that he would prefer returning to the Rev. 
 Paul Overteach and being worked to death, to 
 remaining at the Hall and being poisoned by Lady 
 Pettigrew's Panacea; and that Mr. William 
 Arden had sympathized with him, and had pro- 
 posed, by way of avoiding anything which might 
 be painful to his "aunt's feelings, to administer 
 the daily wine-o^lass full of the mixture to an 
 arbor vita3 tree which grew beneath his 
 window, the robustness of whose constitution 
 might be considered to guarantee it against the 
 pernicious influence of the application. For this 
 AValter had compounded, and in a few weeks the 
 , improvement in his health justified the wisdom 
 of Mr. Arden's advice, while at the same time, 
 by a singular contradiction, it gave occasion to 
 Mrs. Arden to enforce on every opportunity, with 
 that certainty given by ocular demonstration, the 
 invigorating effects of Lady Pettigrew's Panacea.
 
 TKEASON AT HOME. 11 
 
 ** Lady Pettigrew's Panacea," repeated Mr. 
 Arden. *^ No, I don't think she has tried that. 
 She has taken Dr. Williams' tonic, and Bridge's 
 bitters, and Dr. Lowood's bracing extract, and 
 Sir Joseph Slingsby's strengthening mixture, 
 but I don't think she has ever tried that." 
 
 '' Then she had better begin it to-morrow," re- 
 joined Mrs. Arden, her eyes shining with antici- 
 pated triumph. " Oh, it will make quite a 
 different creature of her, you will see. Why, 
 there was Mrs. Wilcox's baby, as soon as* I 
 advised three drops of the panacea a day, it be- 
 gan to rally, and it was the most miserable, starved- 
 looking little object before that you ever saw. 
 The Dean said it was because he insisted on 
 having the wet nurse changed, but that was all 
 nonsense; I knew better." And Mrs. Arden 
 shook her head with an air of cutting contempt 
 at the narrow-minded incredulity of the Dean. 
 
 The precipitation which his sister-in-law car- 
 ried into her good intentions, appeared to dis- 
 compose Mr. Arden, and he took advantage
 
 12 TREASON AT HOME. 
 
 of the next pause in her record of miraculous 
 cures, to state that the physicians had expressly 
 ordered that his daughter should try no more 
 remedies, but depend solely upon country air and 
 quiet for her restoration. 
 
 Mrs. Arden made no reply. She was easily 
 silenced, for she was, as we have said, a timid 
 woman ; but she sat revolving in her mind the 
 bigotry of London physicians, the hard hearted 
 folly of her brother-in-law, and the cruel fate of 
 Edith, who in the very house with seven bottles 
 of Lady Pettigrew's Panacea, was not to be per- 
 mitted a single drop of that elixir. 
 
 The current of her reflections was interrupted 
 by Mr. Arden, who was becoming apprehensive 
 lest his declining to submit Edith to a course of 
 domestic treatment had seriously offended his 
 sister-in-law. 
 
 "The physicians assure me that with entire 
 change of air and scene she will probably in time 
 regain her health without the aid of medicine. 
 Nothing short of the absolute necessity of the
 
 TREASON AT HOME. 13 
 
 case would have induced me to make the call 
 upon your kindness that I have done, and, believe 
 me, I am deeply grateful." 
 
 Mr. Arden, though not prone to be embar- 
 rassed, spoke these words awkwardly; indeed 
 there was sufficient cause for embarrassment. 
 He had broken off all intercourse with his elder 
 brother's widow from the time of that brother's 
 death. William Arden having regained, by his 
 own exertions, the family estate which, being 
 unentailed, had slipped from the impoverished 
 grasp of his father, had considered himself en- 
 titled to leave it to his wife, and after her death 
 to her orphan nephew, his son by adoption. John 
 Arden, the rich banker, though possessing a 
 much finer place of his own, considered himself 
 aggrieved thereby, and, as has been said,had testified 
 his displeasure by dropping all intercourse with 
 the Hall. But when Edith fell ill, and change of 
 place and society seemed to be the one thing need- 
 ful, John Arden bethought himself of the Hall, and 
 of his sister-in-law, of whose talents as a sick
 
 14 TREESON AT HOME, 
 
 nurse he had had evidence, his wife having, many 
 years before, fallen ill when on a visit there, and 
 having been tended by Mrs. William Arden with 
 devoted care. Accordingly, he had indited a 
 letter, requesting leave to send Edith to Arden 
 Hall for a visit, alleging the extreme delicacy of 
 her health as the reason for the request. Mrs. 
 Arden had received that letter with as much 
 indignation as her yielding disposition would 
 allow, at the circumstance that the intercourse 
 so long dropped was now renewed from so 
 palpably selfish a motive. But affectionate re- 
 membrance of Edith's mother, and compassion for 
 the young invalid whom she only remembered as 
 a shy, but rosy child, prevailed over her annoyance, 
 and she despatched a cordial invitation to her niece. 
 
 ^' I am deeply grateful," Mr. John Arden had 
 said. 
 
 " Oh, dear me, there's no occasion for you to be 
 grateful at all, not the least. I do it for Maria's 
 sake. She was a sweet woman, very," responded 
 Mrs. Arden, with that appalling frankness into
 
 TREASON AT HOMR. 15 
 
 whicli easily fluttered persons are sometimes 
 inadvertently impelled. 
 
 Reply to such a statement would have been 
 difficult. Mr. John Arden did not attempt it. 
 Perhaps he cared little on what ground Edith 
 was received, so long as received she was. His 
 next remark was addressed to Walter. 
 
 " Are there any young people in the neighbour- 
 hood whom she would be likely to know?" 
 
 " There are men enough/' said Walter, slightly 
 arching his eyebrows. " But there's a gr§at 
 dearth of girls in this part of the country. Lady 
 Tremyss's daughter is the only one within three 
 miles." 
 
 ^' Is she near Edith's age?" 
 
 " About the same, I fancy, though Miss Isabel 
 looks much older." 
 
 " And Lady Tremyss, does she keep her good 
 looks ? I remember her as one of the handsomest 
 women in London." 
 
 "As handsome as ever, though Miss Isabel's 
 face is more to my taste."
 
 16 TREASON AT HOME. 
 
 " Strangely reserved Lady Tremyss was. I 
 used to think it was owing to Sir Ralph's jealous 
 temper." 
 
 " I should rather think it natural. It has 
 grown on her since his death. That was a great 
 shock to her. You remember the circumstances ? 
 
 " Perfectly." 
 
 And Mr. John Arden, who shared the repug- 
 nance to any mention of death, which is character- 
 istic of men of his stamp, exchanged the subject 
 for the more welcome one of the improvements 
 he had planned and was executing at Arden 
 Court, and a list of the distinguished guests who 
 were about to honour it with their presence, — a 
 theme on which and on whose ramifications he 
 complacently dilated till bed-time.
 
 TREASON AT HOME. ]7 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 The sun was shining brightly the next morn- 
 ing, as young Arden, returning from an early 
 walk, passed beneath the breakfast-room window. 
 A pleasant fellow he was, this Walter Arden, 
 with his tall figure, his broad shoulders, his open 
 eye, and his manly, well-cut features. He was, 
 moreover, the best rider, wrestler, and runner in 
 the county ; and though, to his shame be it 
 spoken, but an indifferent billiard player, his 
 game of chess was so masterly as to vindicate 
 the assertion of his tutor when at Cambridge, 
 that if he had given half the time to mathematics 
 that he devoted to boat racing, he would have 
 been sure of taking a first.
 
 18 TREASON AT HOME. 
 
 Looking up as he advanced, lie saw Edith, 
 her gaze fixed absently upon the sunny sweep of 
 the lawn. He stopped and called up a cordial 
 good morning. She lowered her eyes to where 
 he stood, bowed slightly, and turned away. 
 
 " You are up early," he said,, g ally, as he en- 
 tered the breakfast-room, ^' Your aunt is not yet 
 down." 
 
 ^' Papa went at six," she answered, coldly, but 
 with a regretful cadence in her voice. 
 
 '^ It's a fine day ; he will have a pleasant 
 trip." 
 
 " I hope so,'* she replied, in a more gracious 
 tone. 
 
 " By the time he comes again we will have you 
 quite a different person, as rosy as a milkmaid," 
 said Walter, looking compassionately down upon 
 his companion. 
 
 She scanned his face for a moment. 
 
 " I think I shall like to stay here,'' she said, 
 slowly, as if making up her mind aloud. 
 
 '' Of course you will. It's the jolliest place in
 
 TREASON AT HOME. 19 
 
 the world— at least, I think it so. We shall 
 make you like it so much, that you will never 
 wish to go away," replied her cousin, over- 
 shooting the mark. 
 
 The chilly reserve, a moment dissipated, closed 
 again over Edith's face. She shook her head, 
 and silently returned to her post by the window. 
 
 " What's the matter with her, I wonder ? I 
 wish Aunt Arden would come down," thought 
 Walter. ^' I feel as if somebody had given me a 
 butterfly to hold. I have vexed her, that's plain 
 enough, but I'll be shot if I know why." 
 
 As he stood, palpably annoyed, Edith turned, 
 looked up, and smiled. The change was marvel- 
 lous ; the girl's face became flooded with beauty. 
 
 '' You meant kindly," she said, " Don't mind 
 when I'm cross." 
 
 At this moment Mrs. Arden rustled into the 
 room. There were traces of vexation on her face, 
 though she was doing her best to conceal them. 
 Before long, however, the cause of disturbance 
 came out.
 
 20 TREASON AT HOME. 
 
 *^ So I hear your maid has gone back, my 
 dear," she said, as they took their places at the 
 breakfast table. 
 
 " Yes," replied Edith, briefly. 
 
 Mrs. Arden coughed uneasily. 
 
 " I hope nothing had gone wrong to make her 
 unwilling to remain at the Hall; I should be 
 quite distressed if I. thought so." 
 
 " She wanted to stay, I believe,^' responded 
 Edith. 
 
 *^ Really ; then might I ask ?— I should be glad 
 to know. — I hope there was nothing that you 
 would have preferred differently arranged, my 
 dear. I thought the room was very nice for 
 her," said Mrs. Arden, who had been grievously 
 discomposed by intelligence communicated by 
 Nitson, her maid, whilst dressing her, to the 
 effect that Miss Arden's maid had taken her de- 
 parture from the Hall with Mr. John Arden, 
 looking * as cross as two sticks.' 
 
 *^ It wasn't that, at all. The room was much 
 prettier than the one she has at home. It was
 
 TREASON AT HOME. 21 
 
 only because I did'nt want her. I told papa 
 that you would very likely know of some 
 one — a quiet little country girl is what I would 
 like." 
 
 Mrs. Arden turned her eyes upon the daintily 
 arranged curls and careful toilette of her niece, 
 with a look of dismay. 
 
 " Oh ! but I'm afraid you haven't considered, 
 my dear! Indeed, I'm quite sure you haven't. I 
 couldn't find anyone here to do your hair that 
 way, and to make you look as you do now. I m 
 afraid you'll find it a great disappointment. And 
 I don't know of any one, except little Letty 
 Prast, and she is a good, quiet, tidy little thing, 
 but she's had a hard life, what with her sick 
 mother and her drunken father; and now her 
 mother's dead, and her father's on the parish, 
 and it would be such a nice place for her. But 
 then, she wouldn't do for you at all, my dear, 
 not at all. She was never in service, except 
 once, as one of the under housemaids at the 
 Park," said Mrs. Arden, recollecting herself,
 
 22 TREASON AT HOME. 
 
 "she wouldn't know the names of half the things 
 you wear." 
 
 "How old is she?" enquired Edith, appa- 
 rently not to be deterred from prosecuting her en- 
 quiries by Mrs. Arden's account of Letty Prast's 
 deficiencies. 
 
 " 1 think she must be twenty. Yes, it's five 
 years ago this spring that I gave her a gown to 
 be confirmed in, and then she was fifteen. She's 
 just about twenty, now." 
 
 " You said, I think, that her mother was 
 dead." 
 
 " Yes ; and she almost broke her heart about 
 it, although she was nothing but a slave to her 
 while she lived, for her mother wasn't a good 
 tempered woman at all, and used to scold her 
 from morning till night. I used quite to pity 
 the poor girl, I did indeed. I can't bear to see 
 anyone made unhappy." 
 
 Edith turned a penetrating glance upon her 
 aunt's face. Her tone was softer, as she re- 
 sumed —
 
 TREASON AT HOME. 23 
 
 " Then you think she would be affectionate ?" 
 
 " Yes," replied Mrs. Arden, looking more and 
 more puzzled at the drift of her niece's enquiries, 
 
 *^ but then, my dear, you have been used to some- 
 thing- very different from all this in your 
 maid." 
 
 " If you please, I should like you to engage 
 her for me ; I think she is what 1 want," Edith 
 quietly replied. 
 
 And Mrs. Arden, once satisfied that her niece's 
 mind was not to be changed, began to lay plans 
 for an immediate high-pressure education of 
 Letty Prast by Nitson, so that she might as 
 rapidly as possible be fitted for her unexpected 
 elevation, to all of which her niece listened 
 placidly, but without any apparent interest. 
 
 Walter took advantage of the opportunity 
 afforded him by Edith's attention being directed 
 to his aunt, to study her appearance more closely 
 than he had hitherto been able to do. She ap- 
 peared about fifteen, though she was, in fact, two 
 years older. She was of the average height, but
 
 24 TREASON AT HOME. 
 
 extremely slender. Her eyebrows and lashes 
 were of a much darker tint than her hair, in- 
 creasing the apparent depth of her eyes. There 
 was something very peculiar in those eyes. When 
 seen fronting the light, you would have said they 
 were of the exact hue of harebells ; when seen in 
 shadow you would have sworn them to be black. 
 The irid had a way of suddenly and brilliantly 
 expanding when any emotion touched her, so 
 that the whole eye seemed filled with light. The 
 rest of the features were delicate and regular, 
 but one's look did not rest long on them, it was 
 irresistibly drawn back to those deep, shadowy 
 eyes, so full of thought and sentiment, so 
 strangely contradicting the cold and somewhat 
 haughty expression of the rest of her face. 
 
 She looked as if there might be a great deal in 
 her to study, if one could only get at it. He 
 would try to make her talk. 
 
 He profited by a momentary cessation of his 
 aunt's fine patter of conversation, to make the 
 attempt.
 
 TREASON AT HOME. 25 
 
 It proved unsaccessful — Edith either would 
 not or could not talk. Nothing but mono- 
 syllables were to be obtained from her, and 
 Walter, completely baffled and somewhat dis- 
 gusted, betook himself, as soon as breakfast was 
 over, to the stables and a cigar. 
 
 For the next few days he paid Edith as small 
 attention as politeness would allow, but little by 
 little he found himself watching and studying 
 her. There was certainly something very pecu- 
 liar about her — she was a regular enigma. It 
 was long before he could make her out at all. 
 She was constantly surprising and perplexing 
 him. She would endure being fidgeted and 
 fussed over by her aunt with unchanging resig- 
 nation, never betraying vexation by look or 
 sign. She underwent with the patience of a 
 martyr, all the annoyances inflicted upon her by 
 the awkwardness of her new maid — annoyances 
 so grievous that the sympathizing Nitson at 
 length broke into vicarious revolt. 
 
 '' I don't see, mem, how Miss Arden can 
 
 VOL. 1. c
 
 26 TREASON AT HOME. 
 
 stand it as she does," declared Nitson to her 
 mistress, " that girl's fingers are all thumbs. 
 She puts on Miss Arden's staj^s crooked, and 
 skips half the lacings in her boots every day of 
 her life, and tangles and twitches her hair enough 
 to make a statue scream, mem ; and Miss Arden 
 sits there and never opens her lips. Yesterday, 
 I couldn't stand by and see it any longer, and 1 
 just took her beautiful long hair into my own 
 hands, and curled it, and did it up for her, and 
 she gave a little sigh when I got through, as if 
 it felt so good not to have it pulled ; and really I 
 haven't the strength to bear it any longer, mem, 
 and if you and Miss Arden are pleased, I should 
 be thankful to dress her every day. It's a real 
 pleasure to be near such a sweet young lady as 
 she is, mem, and if you think well, mem, Letty 
 can go into the laundry, for they want another 
 maid there, and Mrs. Pomfret was going to 
 speak to you to-day about it, and so Letty won't 
 lose her place, for she's a well-meaning girl, and 
 cries herself to sleep every night because she's so
 
 TREASON AT HOME. 27 
 
 stupid, which isn't no ways her own fault you 
 know, mem, so I feel as if she ought to be pre- 
 tected.'' 
 
 A conversation which Mrs. Arden related with 
 amplifying comments to Walter, just at the 
 moment when he was smarting under a tart 
 reply of Edith's to some perfectly inoffensive 
 remark as he bad thought. No, he could not 
 understand her. In singular opposition to her 
 usual long suffering mildness or precocious 
 philosophy, would occasionally come a burst of 
 petulance, a mood of depression, a fit of silence, 
 so uncalled-for and unaccountable, as to throw 
 Walter entirely out in his calculations, and to set 
 at naught all the theories he had been forming as 
 to her character. 
 
 Yet the explanation was simple enough. From 
 the time of her mother's death Edith bad been 
 bullied by her maid and tyrannized over by her 
 governess, both, in their way, equally clever and 
 unprincipled women, who had managed to secure 
 Mr. Arden's confidence. Under their joint op- 
 
 2
 
 28 TREASON AT HOME. 
 
 pression, Edith's spirits and health had broken 
 down. But, little by little, the quiet of the Hall, 
 the affectionate care of her aunt, and the healthy 
 moral atmosphere about her, toned both body 
 and mind to a more natural key. She grew 
 stronger week by week, so that before long her 
 rides on the little white pony which Mrs Arden 
 had bought for her, extended their limits from 
 half-an-hour's pacing round the Close to excur- 
 sions of two or three miles. Walter was her 
 attendant on these excursions, Mrs. Arden being 
 afraid to entrust her to the care of any servant. 
 
 From looking upon these walks beside his 
 cousin's pony as a nuisance, Walter came by 
 degrees to consider them pleasures. Edith's 
 reserve wore insensibly away. One day she told 
 him something of her past miseries, in listening 
 to which, Walter used expressions more energetic 
 than elegant. Edith was not shocked, as she 
 ought to have been ; on the contrary, from that 
 time she began to treat him as a friend. 
 
 When she had been a little more than a month
 
 TREASON AT HOME. 29 
 
 at the Hall, Walter proposed to take her as far 
 as the gates of Ilton Park, closed for the time by 
 the absence of the family. 
 
 " I'm sure I don't know what to say," said 
 Mrs. Arden, on the afternoon of the projected 
 excursion, looking dubiously up at the threatening 
 sky, and then, equally dubiously contemplating 
 Edith. " I really don't know what to say," she 
 repeated, turning her eyes, with a rapid, rotatory 
 motion, upon the weathercock, the pony, Walter, 
 and Edith. 
 
 " Then we're off," said Walter, turning to 
 place Edith in the saddle. 
 
 " Not if Aunt Arden says No," Edith replied. 
 
 *• Dear me, child, I can't say No about anything 
 to you, you know I can't," responded Mrs. Arden, 
 piteously. ^' But Walter, if any ill comes of it, 
 I shall lay it all on your shoulders." 
 
 And having partially satisfied her mind by this 
 shifting of responsibility, Mrs. Arden watched, 
 well pleased, from the hall steps, the departure of 
 the two.
 
 30 TREASON AT HOME. 
 
 Winding through pleasant lanes bordered by 
 fragrant hedge-rows, they reached at length the 
 road which led by II ton Park. On one side rose 
 the dark stone wall enclosing the heavy wood- 
 land, on the other a low hedge and a narrow strip 
 of green alone separated the way from the river, 
 which flowed in gleaming eddies between its 
 sloping banks. A few steps brought them to 
 the pine shadowed gates of the park. On either 
 side of the iron gateway, upon a massy pedestal 
 of red sandstone, a sphinx lay couched, looking 
 with stony gaze upon the river. The lodge was 
 concealed from sight ; the eye passing between the 
 sphinxes, met but the shadows of the long avenue 
 within. Walter stopped the pony, while Edith's 
 eyes settled, as if fascinated, upon the faces of 
 the sphinxes. 
 
 '^ It was an odd idea to put a woman's head on 
 such a body," said Walter. " Beauty, strength, 
 and ferocity ; that's what the compound means, I 
 suppose." 
 
 '' They look as if they knew something," said
 
 TREASON AT HOME. 31 
 
 Editli, glancing by them. " I wish they would 
 say what it is." 
 
 " I'm afraid you won't be gratified. Whatever 
 they know, they seem disposed to keep to them- 
 selves ; and on the whole I think they're right. 
 Just fancy being obliged to tell all they've seen 
 since the time of the Pharaohs ! " 
 
 " Please, I would rather go on," said Edith, 
 after a short silence, turning from the gate, with 
 its mute sentinels. 
 
 As they came to a corner of the road, which 
 still skirted the park, Walter, who was walking 
 with his eyes on the ground, was startled by a 
 faint cry from Edith. He hastily looked up. 
 
 Before them was a gigantic, black coated negro, 
 his face traversed by a ghastly scar. Respect- 
 fully touching his hat, he passed them, and 
 disappeared through a small door in the park 
 wall, which he opened with a private key. 
 
 ^^What, afraid of Goliath!" said Walter, 
 seeing the disturbance on Edith's face. " He's 
 the best creature in the world."
 
 32 TKEASON AT HOME. 
 
 '' Who is he, and how did he come here ? " 
 "He's the butler at Ilton Park. Old Lady 
 Tremyss, Sir Ralph's mother, to whom the park 
 belonged, had estates in Jamaica, and that's 
 the way Goliath came to be here. She brought 
 him." 
 
 " But he is so tall, and that dreadful scar ! " 
 
 " I said he is the best creature in the world, 
 and that scar proves it. Not long before Sir 
 Ralph's death he got mto one of his rages with 
 Goliath, and threw a decanter in his face, and cut 
 him as you saw, and for all that, Goliath risked 
 his life to get him out of the river, the night he 
 fell m." 
 
 " And did he save him ? " 
 
 " No. The river is deep, and dangerous. 
 Goliath was alone. He did all he could, but he 
 couldn't manage it." 
 
 " How did Sir Ralph get in ? " pursued Edith, 
 with a glance at the silent river. 
 
 " He was riding home late from a dinner party, 
 and chose to swim the river instead of going
 
 TREASON AT HOME. 33 
 
 round by the bridge. He was always a dare-devil 
 on horseback.'' 
 
 a Why did not the groom help ? " 
 
 " As ill luck would have it, the groom got 
 dead drunk that night, and Sir Ralph came home 
 alone." 
 
 " What a terrible thing," said Edith, '^ to die in 
 the cold and darkness so close to one's home." 
 She shivered. 
 
 ^* Yes, but don't think of that, think what a 
 good fellow Goliath showed himself." * 
 
 " Yes, it was noble of him — to forgive Sir 
 Ralph would have been much, but to risk his 
 life for him — " She paused. 
 
 ^* A white servant would'nt have done it, but that 
 race is different. Their fidelity seems like that of 
 dogs, — pat them or kick them, they love you all 
 the same." 
 
 " I don't think Goliath looks like that,' 
 Edith slowly replied, " I think it must have been 
 something deeper." — She stopped a moment, 
 then added, penitently, " I hope he didn't see 
 
 c 5
 
 34 TBEASON AT HOME. 
 
 how startled I was. I should be so sorry to hurt 
 his feelinsfs." 
 
 '* Oh, never mind. If he did see it, it's no 
 matter. Groliath is such a good fellow !" 
 
 " I wish I had thought to ask him when the 
 family is coming back,'^ Walter resumed, after 
 they had gone on a few steps. '^ If you don't 
 mind I'll run back and ask at the lodge." 
 
 He returned in a moment, his face glowing. 
 Edith looked attentively at him. 
 
 " They will be here on Saturday evening. I 
 am glad they're coming. Isabel will be a capital 
 companion for you." 
 
 "• Thank you, I don't care for any companions," 
 Edith coolly answered, and Walter obtained only 
 curt replies during the rest of her ride.
 
 TREASON AT HOME. 35 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 ^* Do you think Lady Tremyss will be at church 
 to-day ? " asked Edith, as the carriage drove up 
 to the church door on the next Sunday. * 
 
 " Of course, my dear. Lady Tremyss is very 
 punctual in her attendance. She and Isabel are 
 always at morning service, though, I'm sorry to 
 say, when the sermon is long Isabel fidgets 
 dreadfully." 
 
 The carriage door was thrown open as she 
 spoke, and they entered the little church. 
 
 Edith had not until that day been considered 
 strong enough to undergo the fatigue of sitting 
 through the service, and it was with an observant 
 eye that she noted all around her.
 
 36 TREESON AT HOME. 
 
 The walls of a j^ellowish brown tint, the time 
 worn and blackened oaken wood work, the high 
 square pews with their curtains of crimson 
 moreen, the curiously carved pulpit with its 
 alternating lion's and angel's heads, the sub- 
 dued and reverential faces of the cottagers who 
 filled the benches ; all these she saw through the 
 vague and misty light that fell through the 
 window at the extremity of the aisle, whose small 
 and dusty panes seemed to esteem it their sole 
 duty to guard against the entrance of the sun- 
 light. All was dim, sombre, and hushed. 
 
 Edith placed herself where her eye could com- 
 mand the entrance. Never before had she been 
 so anxious to see anyone as now to see Isabel. 
 She had been seated but a few moments, when a 
 lady, richly dressed in black, accompanied by a 
 young girl, appeared on the threshold, and passing 
 up the aisle, entered a pew a little beyond Mrs. 
 Arden's. Edith instinctively recognized Lady 
 Tremyss. She looked but at her. She had forgot- 
 ten Isabel.
 
 TREASON AT HOME. 37 
 
 Features of faultless regularity, over which was 
 spread an even tint of pale olive relieved by- 
 touches of red on the lips, and at the corners of 
 the long black eyes ; straight black hair smoothly 
 parted on the low, compact forehead ; a figure of 
 the medium height, though in its stateliness ap- 
 pearing somewhat taller, — such was the presence 
 that glided past Edith, riveting her attention 
 with a painful fascination. 
 
 Lady Tremyss took her place, and sat motion- 
 less during the rest of the service, save that slfe 
 rose when others rose, and knelt when others 
 knelt. Yet this immobility suggested no thought 
 of lassitude or weariness ; it was not the indiffer- 
 ence of ennui nor the nonchalance of indolence ; 
 it seemed the stillness of concentration, the visi- 
 ble expression and bodying forth of will. Had 
 an acute observer been asked to analyze Lady 
 Tremyss' emotionless face, to read the expression 
 of her stirless figure, the result of his study 
 would have been given in one word, — Intensity. 
 
 But there are few acute observers ; and had the
 
 38 TREASON AT HOME. 
 
 vast majority of her acquaintance been questioned 
 as to Lady Tremyss, they would have considered 
 that they had made an exhaustive statement, in 
 answering that she was a remarkably beautiful, 
 quiet sort of woman, with distinguished manners, 
 and a fine fortune ; those who most frequently 
 visited the Park, adding, par parenthese^ that she 
 was extraordinarily fond of her daughter, her only 
 child. 
 
 As the effect produced on Edith's imagination 
 by Lady Tremyss' strange and striking beauty 
 began to lose its novelty, she turned her eyes on 
 the figure by her side. That must be Isabel. 
 But Edith could only discover that she was grace- 
 ful, and her dress elegant. She waited with 
 impatience for the end of the service, but, as 
 usually happens when the fulfilment of our 
 desires depends upon the movements of others, 
 when the moment came she was disappointed. 
 As Lady Tremyss and her daughter turned to 
 pass down the aisle, Mrs. Arden, addressed by an 
 antiquated lady in the pew above, interposed her
 
 TREASON AT HOME. 39 
 
 figure between Edith and the object of her at- 
 tention, effectually concealing Isabel from sight. 
 When the colloquy was ended, and Edith at last 
 reached the porch, Lady Tremyss and her daughter 
 had already driven away. 
 
 The experiment of taking Edith to church did 
 not quite fulfil Mrs. Arden's expectations. Per- 
 haps the change of seeing her in toilette de ville 
 instead of her customary straw hat and cambric 
 dress, imprinted more strongly than usual on her 
 aunt's perceptions the fact of her charge's pecu- 
 liar delicacy of appearance; perhaps the girl 
 was really over fatigued. However that may 
 have been, after removing with her own hands 
 the transparent bonnet and gauzy mantle, insist- 
 ing on her swallowing a dose of sal volatile and 
 water, which nearly choked her, and forcing her 
 to take her luncheon reclined on a chaise longue 
 instead of sitting at the table, as she wished to do, 
 Mrs. Arden conduted her to her room, and 
 depositing her on the bed, after pouring Eau-de-
 
 40 TREASON AT HOME. 
 
 Cologne on her handkerchief and carefully closing 
 the curtains, left her with fervant entreaties that 
 she would take a good nap, and look well rested 
 at dinner time ; an injunction there was little 
 doubt but that Edith would obey to the best of 
 her ability, enforced as it was by a reference to 
 the possible necessity of a further dose of sal 
 volatile and water. 
 
 When Edith descended to the dinner table, she 
 was met by the information that Lady Tremyss 
 and Isabel had called, and that Isabel had seemed 
 very sorry not to have seen her ; which, although 
 a truthful, was still not a literal statement, Isabel 
 having impetuously inquired for Edith as soon as 
 she entered the drawing room, and having testi- 
 fied exceeding disappointment when told that she 
 was lying down. 
 
 " I think she is the sweetest creature I ever saw 
 in my life. I never took my eyes off her as I 
 came up the aisle. She looked just like a seraph, 
 with her great eyes and golden hair streaming
 
 TREASON AT HOME. 41 
 
 out, only that seraphs are not all done up in lace 
 and muslin, I suppose. It is too bad that I can't 
 see her." 
 
 " Isabel was quite charmed," said Lady Tre- 
 myss, in her calm, still voice. 
 ■ '' Pray how old is she ? " interposed Isabel. 
 
 ^* How old is she? my dear, why she's seven- 
 teen." 
 
 ^' What, is she actually older than I am ? I 
 should never have thought it. And how long 
 has she been here ? and how long is she going t^ 
 stay ? and you mean to have me a great deal 
 with her, don't you ? there's a darling, and I will 
 be so good ! and I'll never paint the chickens 
 again." 
 
 A reference to a former exploit of Isabel's, who 
 had used up a cake of vermilion in depicting- 
 various ghastly wounds upon some promising 
 Dorkings, Mrs. Arden's especial pets, thereby 
 drawing upon herself more lasting indignation 
 than Mrs. Arden had ever before been known to 
 express.
 
 42 TREASON AT HOME. 
 
 " Dear me, I really — " 
 
 Isabel stopped the long answer which she saw 
 impending, by enquiring for Walter. 
 
 " Oh no, don't send. I'll go and find him." 
 
 She darted through the window, and find- 
 ing Walter, descanted upon Edith's loveliness 
 until it was time to return. 
 
 ^' Now do bring her early, there's a dear, 
 and let her stay all the afternoon, do," said Isabel, 
 as Mrs. Arden consented to Lady Tremyss' re- 
 quest that Edith should come the next day to 
 call at the Park. 
 
 ** I am sorry, but I'm really afraid I can't," 
 replied Mrs. Arden. " I must first go to see 
 Mrs. Moultrie, and she isn't strong enough to 
 drive so far. She is so delicate, you haven't any 
 idea. It quite frightens me sometimes, and then 
 you know I haven't her in my own hands. Ah, 
 if I could only take the right sort of care of 
 her !" 
 
 And Mrs. Arden sighed, remembering Lady 
 Pettigrew's Panacea.
 
 TREASON AT HOME. 43 
 
 " Couldn't you leave her at the Park on the 
 way?" suggested Walter, glancing at Isabel's 
 disappointed face. 
 
 " We will be very careful of her," added Lady 
 Tremyss. 
 
 " I'll put her on the top shelf of my wardrobe, 
 and cover her over with satin paper, if you like," 
 urged Isabel, ^' only do please let her come.'' 
 
 And Mrs. Arden, who hated to say no, con- 
 sented. 
 
 ^' You don't feel shy at being left here all 
 alone, do you, my dear ?" asked Mrs. Arden, as 
 the carriage passed between the couchant 
 sphinxes, and entered the long, dark avenue of 
 pines. " I used to be dreadfully shy at your age, 
 I remember.'' 
 
 *' No, I never feel shy,'' replied Edith. " I am 
 so used to company, you know." 
 
 " I never feel shy,'' Edith had answered. 
 She would rather have been seared with hot irons
 
 44 TREASON AT HOME. 
 
 than have confessed to her aunt that the vision of 
 Goliath had haunted her dreams all ni^ht, and 
 that she was at that instant internally trembling 
 with the dread of seeing him again, good though 
 he was. 
 
 Isabel met them in the hall. Hurriedly greet- 
 ing Mrs. Arden, she seized Edith by the hand. 
 
 " I am so glad you are come I I so wanted to 
 know you !" 
 
 Following Mrs. Arden, she led Edith into the 
 drawing-room. 
 
 It was a long, low, dark apartment, the pre- 
 vailing colours crimson and black. The old 
 pictures on the dark, polished walls glowed 
 duskily from their frames of carved ebony ; the 
 antique bronzes in the corners looked down 
 from high pedestals of rosso antico ; an air of 
 sombre luxury reigned throughout. 
 
 Lady Tremyss rose from her tapestry frame as 
 they entered, courteously welcoming her guests. 
 Edith knew that she had taken her hand and 
 spoken a few sentences, but, to save her life, she
 
 TREASON AT HOME. 45 
 
 could not an instant after have recalled a single 
 word her hostess had said. Her whole attention 
 had been absorbed by that strange, still face : 
 those long, black eyes had held her as by a 
 charm. 
 
 As Lady Tremyss tamed again to Mrs. Arden, 
 Isabel drew Edith to the other end of the room 
 and seated herself by her side. 
 
 " I have been expecting you, I don't know how 
 long. I wanted to see you again." 
 
 The two girls fixed their eyes reciprocally on 
 each other's face. 
 
 No stronger contrast than they presented 
 could have been imagined. Isabel, tali, brilliant, 
 sparkling, glowing with life ; her brown eyes 
 smiling as if in rivalry with her mouth, an air of 
 petulant gaiety, of mischievous playfulness 
 glancing over her face ; and Edith, her deep eyes 
 gazing earnestly forth from her transparent 
 countenance, her serious lips gently but firmly 
 closed, her golden curls falling over her delicate 
 figure.
 
 46 TREASON AT HOME. 
 
 Isabel's mirthful eyes took a shade of gravity 
 as they dwelt on her companion. 
 
 " I hope you mean to like me," she sain, half 
 imploringly, as if becoming aware that Edith's 
 liking was mainly dependent on her will to 
 like. 
 
 *^ I think I shall," Edith replied tranquilly, 
 returning hei companion's gaze. In that brief 
 question and reply their mutual standing was 
 tacitly agreed upon. 
 
 " Mamma," said Isabel, when Mrs. Arden had 
 taken her leave, " Miss Arden says she likes 
 flowers. I am going to take her to see my 
 garden.'' 
 
 She led Edith to the terrace which skirted 
 the southern side of the house. 
 
 Edith paused to look at the architecture of the 
 mansion. It was a long, irregular structure, 
 which had apparently remained intact since the 
 time of its erection. The projecting gables, the 
 oriel windows, with their small, lozenge-shaped 
 panes, the high stacks of chimneys ornamented
 
 TREASON AT HOME. 47 
 
 with grinning heads, all proclaimed the date 
 " 1520," as plainly as did the little black and 
 yellow tiles set into the grey stone wall over the 
 hall door. Tall pines of still greater antiquity 
 bordered the quiet terrace, stretching out their 
 many tiered branches as if pointing at the house. 
 
 As Edith's eye passed slowly down the facade, 
 it caught, through one of the drawing-room win- 
 dows. Lady Tremyss' black-robed figure, bending 
 over her embroidery frame. Edith moved on. 
 
 A few steps brought her to a glass door of great 
 width, to which two or three steps gave access. 
 The upper panes were of stained glass, and 
 represented various heraldic devices. That in 
 the centre was larger than the rest. It bore a 
 mailed hand grasping a blood-red rose. A heavy 
 creeper hung its festoons around, its dark green 
 wreaths contrasting with the rich tints of the 
 pictured panes. 
 
 *' How pretty that is," said Edith, stopping. 
 
 " What ? Oh, that stained glass. Yes, I sup- 
 pose it is pretty. I never look at it. They "re
 
 48 TREASON AT HOME. 
 
 the different coats of arms that married the 
 Tremyss coat of arms. Sir Ralph had them put 
 there when he came here to live." 
 
 '' Then he didn't always live here ? " 
 
 " Oh, no ; when he was a bachelor he lived 
 chiefly at the family place, Tremyss Hough, but 
 mamma liked this best, so after he was married 
 the other place was shut up, and now it has gone 
 to the heir, of course. But don't stop now. I 
 want you to see my garden." 
 
 She drew Edith to the extremity of the terrace, 
 which opened on a small, but exquisitely arranged 
 flower garden. 
 
 " This is beautiful," said Edith. " I am glad 
 you brought me. What lovely azaleas, what 
 beautiful fuchsias, and what a fine orange tree ! " 
 
 " Yes, that's Madame Ripetti," replied Isabel. 
 '^ I have the leaves washed every day to keep 
 her nice and clean.'' 
 
 "Madame Ripetti?" repeated Edith. 
 
 "^ She plaated it for me, and made it grow, so I 
 call it after her. She was my governess."
 
 TREASON AT HOME. 49 
 
 *'Then you liked her?" questioned Edith, 
 whose feelings towards Madame Lourmel had 
 not been precisely of a nature to induce her to 
 keep alive her memory in a flower-pot. 
 
 ^*0h, anybody would have liked her. She 
 
 was a round, rosy little woman, very fond of 
 
 little cakes, and very much afraid of earwigs 
 
 and spiders. And, do you know, it was the 
 
 most astonishing thing, the quantity of earwigs 
 
 and spiders that used to get into her room when 
 
 • 
 she first came here ! I told her they came to 
 
 help her eat the cakes she used to smuggle up. 
 
 She kept the housemaids running half the time. 
 
 It used to be so funny to see her standing on a 
 
 chair in the middle of the room screaming 
 
 ' Santa Yergine !' while the maids were hunting 
 
 in every corner with brushes and dustpans. But 
 
 at last I fell ill. I tumbled off my pony into a 
 
 brook one day, and caught a dreadful cold. I 
 
 was so hoarse that I couldn't speak, and so choked 
 
 that I couldn't breathe. Mamma never went to 
 
 bed for a week, nor did Madame Ripetti either. 
 
 VOL. I. D
 
 50 TREASON AT HOME. 
 
 She helped mamma and Melvil all she could, and 
 when there was nothing else for her to do, she sat 
 behind the bed curtains cryiDg. She thought I 
 couldn't see her, but I heard her sniff. Well, 
 wasn't it curious ? when I got well, although I 
 saw that she always had a plate piled full of little 
 cakes in her room, the earwigs and spiders had 
 lost all their appetite for them. None were ever 
 found there again. Wasn't that peculiar ? '' 
 
 Isabel laughed. 
 
 " It was peculiar that she never found you out," 
 answered Edith. "But how could you touch 
 them? I couldn't touch anything ugly if I 
 tried." 
 
 " Oh, I didn't mind, I had on gloves you 
 know. Besides, I like to do things, and never 
 tell anybody." 
 
 Isabel's eyes took a peculiar expression, not 
 wily, not malicious, —but purely secretive. 
 
 " I was sorry when she went away," she 
 continued. " But the weather was horrid for two 
 or three months; I don't think the sun shone
 
 TKEASON AT HOME. 51 
 
 once. And she couldn't bear it at all, you know. 
 She used to cry all by herself, and I found out 
 that it was because she wanted to see Italy again. 
 So I told mamma that she must go, and mamma 
 sent her all the way back to Sienna. She was a 
 good-natured little woman. I wished her back 
 a hundred times the first week Madame Lepel- 
 letier was here." 
 
 " Then you too have had a French governess/* 
 responded Edith, sympathizingly. 
 
 " Oh, yes. How I did dislike her ! She 
 was a long, lean, grasshopperish person, with a 
 flat forehead, and a red nose. She was a Protest- 
 ant, and she called herself very pious. It was so 
 dismal ! She made me learn the History of the 
 Crusade against the Albigenses by heart; and 
 she gave me, for light reading, the Siege of 
 La Rochelle, and the Massacre of St. Bartholomew. 
 They made me perfectly blue. I was very sorry for 
 the poor people, but I couldn't do them any good, 
 you know. And then, just as if it wasn't enough 
 to be advising and lecturing me all day, she used 
 
 D 2 
 
 RAr-.Y 
 UNIVERSITY OF lUlNOJ^
 
 52 TREASON AT HOME. 
 
 to pester me to death with little notes, telling 
 me of the interest she took in my soul, and full of 
 texts. I got perfectly sick of the sight of them. 
 But at length what do you think she did ? She 
 told me a positive, direct, downright fib ! I went 
 to mamma, and told her that I would never speak 
 to Madame Lepelletier again, and that the sooner 
 she went away the better.*' 
 
 '* Did you really say that to Lady Tremyss ? " 
 responded Edith, astonished. '^What did she 
 answer ? " 
 
 " Mamma? Why she said ' very well.' She 
 always says ' very well.' And of course Madame 
 Lepelletier went I danced about like a Judy for 
 an hour after the carriage drove away ; then I 
 burnt up the Albigenses and the Huguenots and 
 La Rochelle, and I burnt up the writing table 
 too. They set the 'chimney on fire. The men 
 had to climb on the roof, and pour buckets of 
 water down to put it out." 
 
 " But wasn't your mamma very much vexed?" 
 
 '^ Mamma never is vexed. She didn't sav
 
 TREASON AT HOME. 53 
 
 anything to me. She only told the servants to 
 have the fire put out." 
 
 " And was that your last governess ? " enquired 
 Edith, who began to take a certain interest 
 in the history of Isabel's duennas. 
 
 *' No, the next was a German. Mamma 
 had to get foreigners, for the only way I can 
 learn languages is by hearing people speak. I 
 can't learn from books; it makes me miserable to 
 study. As soon as I'm put down to a book it is 
 all I can do to keep myself from running away 
 into the Chase. Did you ever see the Chase ? " 
 
 Her eyes sparkled. 
 
 *^No." 
 
 " Oh, it's such a place ! Great trees, full of 
 squirrels ; and if you climb up and sit close and 
 wait, by-and-by very like you'll see a great 
 stately deer, or a little frightened do^ j come 
 past. I have often sat there for hours watching 
 for them." 
 
 " But the German governess," suggested 
 Edith, to whom the idea of climbing a great tree
 
 54 TREASON AT HOME. 
 
 and sitting in the branches for hours waiting for 
 the sight of a deer, presented but moderate 
 attractions. 
 
 " Yes," answered Isabel, recalling her thoughts 
 from the Chase. ^' She was a white, puify-faced 
 woman, with such thick ankles, always calling 
 me ^ liebe Fraulein,' and telling me what a rich 
 inner being I had. I never knew what she was 
 tallying about. She used to harangue me by the 
 hour about the arts, and the craft of nature, as she 
 called it ; and then she would jump plump down 
 from the clouds, and eat cheese, and herrings, and 
 ham, — she said that anything else for luncheon 
 disagreed with her. But she played the piano-forte 
 beautifully. After a while I thought I had better 
 come to an understanding with her, so I said' 
 * Mademoiselle, I don't like you, and I don't 
 believe that you like me. But I want to play, 
 and you can teach me, so I mean you shall stay 
 here two years ; then I shall be sixteen, and I 
 don't intend to have any more governesses after 
 that. Only, there's one thing, — you are not to
 
 TREASON AT HOME. 65 
 
 call me ^' liebe Fraulein^' any more, and I won't hear 
 another word about anything that I can't see or 
 touch.' You should have seen her face when I 
 began, but by the time I got through, she looked 
 quite contented. ' Wie sie wollen, Fraulein,' 
 she said, and from that time we got on very well 
 together. — But what's Mimi about?" she ex- 
 claimed, interrupting her narration. She 
 directed Edith's attention to where a great 
 Spanish cat was crouching beside a cavity whence 
 some plant had recently been removed. The 
 creature was peering over the brink ; the slight 
 but rapid vibration of its tail showed that it w^s 
 about to pounce upon some unseen object within. 
 " She has found a field mouse, I fancy." 
 Isabel bent eagerly forward, as the cat 
 sprang into the hole. 
 
 '^ I hope not ; they are such pretty, harm- 
 less little things," said Edith, pitifully. " But no, 
 that is not a field mouse, it is a mole," she 
 exclaimed, as the cat reappeared, triumphantly
 
 56 TREASON AT HOME. 
 
 holding her struggling prey. " Oh, the poor 
 creature." 
 
 " But moles aren t harmless things at all," 
 objected Isabel. '' They are as cruel and fierce 
 as they can be. If one mole meets another 
 which has anything that he wants, in their under- 
 ground ways, he will fight with him and kill him 
 to get it. You needn't pity the mole at all." 
 
 " But I do," returned Edith, indignantly, " and 
 I mean to get him away from her." 
 
 And she ran towards the cat, who, having re- 
 leased her game, was affectionately pawing and 
 turning it over, as a preliminary to the still closer 
 acquaintanceship which she meditated. 
 
 As Edith, followed by Isabel, sprang towards 
 her, the cat again seized the mole, and rushed 
 down the terrace. Seeing the glass door already 
 mentioned, ajar, she turned abruptly aside and 
 took refuge in the room within. The two girls 
 followed closely, Isabel laughing aloud in high 
 excitement at the chase.
 
 TREASON AT HOME. 57 
 
 They darted hither and thither through the 
 great dining-room, following the cat's rapid 
 movements ; till at last, dropping the mole, the 
 creature sprang through the window, and disap- 
 peared. 
 
 " There she goes," cried Isabel. ^*But the 
 mole, where is he?" 
 
 The mole had vanished. They looked around 
 in perplexity. 
 
 " He didn't get out through the window, I'm 
 almost sure," said Isabel, dubiously. • 
 
 ^ " There— there, " exclaimed Edith, pointing to 
 a rapidly moving object under the thick Turkey 
 carpet. " He has got underneath. How quick 
 he goes, here; before the sideboard." 
 
 They threw themselves down beside the spot, 
 and raised the carpet from the oaken floor. Be- 
 neath was a dark, wide spreading stain. 
 
 " What is it, Isabel? " said Lady Tremyss, in 
 her quiet, impassive voice, entering. As she 
 spoke, her eye fell on the upturned carpet and on 
 the large, dark stain. She pointed with a mute, 
 
 D 5
 
 58 TREESON AT HOME. 
 
 imperious gesture to tlie door. Isabel took 
 Edith's hand, and silently drew her away. 
 
 When the door had closed, Lady Tremyss threw 
 herself upon her knees beside the spot. She laid 
 her cheek on it, she pressed her lips to it, utter- 
 ing the while low inarticulate moans like those 
 of some wounded wild creature. Then she re- 
 placed the carpet, and rose to her feet. A horrible 
 smile passed slowly over her features. It vanished, 
 leaving them stirless, as was their wont. She 
 turned and left the room. 
 
 The paroxysm had been but brief. As the two 
 girls reached the upper landing of the great 
 staircase, they heard Lady Tremyss' even step as 
 she passed through the hall, and re-entered the 
 drawing room. 
 
 *' What could it have been ? " asked Edith. 
 
 " I'm sure I don't know. A wine stain, I sup- 
 pose. Perhaps I made too much noise; but 
 mamma never thought I made too much noise 
 before." 
 
 They proceeded along the gallery.
 
 TREASON AT HOME. 59 
 
 ^' This is my room," said Isabel, pausing as 
 they neared the end. "I do wish the maidy 
 would keep that door shut," she exclaimed, 
 petulantly seizing the handle of a half-open door 
 beyond. 
 
 *' Stop, please," said Edith. ^* I see pictures. 
 If you are willing, I should like to go in." 
 
 Isabel threw open the door. 
 
 It was a long room, uncarpeted, the ceiling 
 crossed with heavy oaken beams. On one side 
 was a long range of windows ; the opposite wall 
 supported paintings. There was nothing else in 
 the apartment, not a chair, not a table, not e^en 
 a chest. 
 
 There is something singularly depressing in 
 the aspect of an uninhabited room, even if no 
 picture on the wall mock the silence around; but 
 the strange, unreal life such presentments possess, 
 by its contrast adds inexpressibly to one's sense 
 of loneliness and desolation. The eyes fastened 
 full upon you, and from which, shift your position 
 as you will, you cannot get away ; the lips, with
 
 60 TREASON AT HOME. 
 
 their eternal reticence, that yet look ready at each 
 instant to accost you ; the hands once, doubtless, 
 busy enough for good or evil, now hanging or 
 folded in unchanging repose ; the haunting 
 presence, the dogging footsteps of the past which 
 press upon you, closely following down the long 
 vista of some unfrequented gallery : all these 
 might wel] influence less impressionable nerves 
 than those of Edith ; yet, side by side with the 
 repulsion, stood the fascination such places un- 
 accountably possess ; it drew her across the 
 threshold, and lured her on. 
 
 The pictures were, for the most part, portraits. 
 From their apparent antiquity they must have 
 belonged to the remote ancestry of the family. 
 Either there was something m the effect of the 
 grey light which fell from the cloudy sky that 
 gave a melancholy and severe aspect to the line 
 of pictured faces, or else the character of the 
 originals had been singularly forbidding ; but as 
 Edith passed slowly along their rank, she thought 
 she had never beheld such stern and menacing
 
 TREASON AT HOME. 61 
 
 countenances as those that were looking dowQ on 
 her. 
 
 "I hate to come into this room," said Isabel, 
 glancing askance at the portraits. " They all 
 look at me as if they hated me ; I'm sm'e I don't 
 know why. I never did them any harm. Come, 
 do let ns go back.'' 
 
 '^One instant," replied Edith, who at that 
 moment perceived at one end of the gallery a 
 much newer picture than the rest, conspicuous in 
 its gilded frame. • 
 
 She quickened her steps, and took her stand 
 before it. 
 
 It was the portrait of a man somewhat past 
 middle age, short, thickset, powerful. The bull 
 neck, the broad shoulders, the sombre brow, the 
 heavy features, were but partially redeemed by 
 the piercing glance of the eye, and the massive 
 character of the forehead. The fresh colouring of 
 the picture imparted to it a startling life-likeness, 
 seen as it was in contrast with the dim and 
 sunken tones of the paintings around.
 
 62 TREASON AT HOME, 
 
 " That's Sir Ralph," said Isabel, turning away 
 her head. 
 
 " But you do not look like him in the least," 
 remarked Edith. 
 
 " I hope not. There's no reason that I should." 
 
 " But," questioned Edith, much perplexed, 
 " Is not Lady Tremyss your own mother ? " 
 
 " Of course, but mamma was married twice. 
 Her first husband was Captain Hartley. After 
 he died she married Sir Ralph." 
 
 " Was he kind to you?" asked Edith with a 
 distrustful glance at the scowling brow and 
 Cyclopean shoulders. 
 
 " He hadn't much chance to be otherwise. I 
 never came in his way if I could help it. I always 
 hated him. Fortunately, it was easy to keep out 
 of the way, the house is so large. — But do come 
 to my room; we can talk there just as w^ell." 
 
 And Isabel hurried Edith up the gallery, care- 
 fully closing the door behind them, as if to 
 effectually keep Sir Ralph in. 
 
 " Here it is pleasanter, isn't it ? I had it all
 
 TKEASON AT HOME. 63 
 
 done to please myself," she said, ushering 
 Edith into a gaily painted and papered room. 
 
 A cultivated taste might have been some- 
 ^ what disturbed by the irregular and capricious 
 juxtaposition of the colours employed, and by 
 their too vivid tone ; yet they seemed, in their 
 own way, to harmonize with Isabel's style of 
 beauty. If her surroundings were rather gor~ 
 geous, they were certainly becoming. They had 
 obviously been chosen by instinct, for Isabel had 
 to all appearance never plunged into the mysteries 
 of the counter point of colour. 
 
 '^ It looks very bright and cheerful," replied 
 Edith, as she seated herself on the low chair 
 which Isabel drew forward. "And now, please 
 tell me something about your father." 
 
 " Yes," returned Isabel, " only first let me 
 make myself comfortable." 
 
 She cast herself full length on the ground, 
 and crossed her arms over her head. " I love to 
 lie so. Did you ever try it ? " 
 
 " No," said Edith. " It would make me ache
 
 64 TREASON AT HOME. 
 
 all over. — But you were going to tell me about 
 your father." 
 
 " I don't know mucli, for mamma never speaks 
 of him. She keeps a miniature of him locked 
 up in her room. I got a sight of it once when 
 she didn't know. I look just like him. I held it 
 up beside my face before the glass to see. It^s 
 older, and the features are larger and it has 
 whiskers, but except that we're just the same. ' 
 
 " How sad that he should have died," said 
 Edith, gazing down on the beautiful face before 
 her, so full of the joy of life. 
 
 " Yes ; I suppose so. I don't know anything 
 about it. Let's talk of something else. Do you 
 ride ? " 
 
 '^ Sometimes." 
 
 " Don't you love it ? " asked Isabel, raising 
 herself on her elbow. '^ I should like to live on 
 horseback." 
 
 " I was thrown and hurt once, and that makes 
 me afraid." 
 
 *' What, have you given it up ? "
 
 TREASON AT HOME. 65 
 
 " No, I said I rode sometimes. I have been 
 out every day since I came to the Hall on a 
 pony; but it's lame how.'' 
 
 '' What a pity ! " said Isabel, sinking back, with 
 a look of profound commiseration. Then sudden- 
 ly starting up — ^* I know what I'll do," she 
 cried, dragging Edith impetuously along the 
 corridor and down the staircase. 
 
 ^^ Mamma," she exclaimed, flinging open the 
 drawing-room door, " Miss Arden's pony is lame, 
 and she's afraid of horses, and I want to lend h^r 
 Moira ; can't I?" 
 
 " Of course," replied Lady Tremyss, raising 
 her eyes an instant, then lowering them again 
 upon her embroidery frame. 
 
 " Yes ; but, mamma, I want you to come to the 
 paddock, please. Moira is so fond of you. I 
 want Edith to see." 
 
 Lady Tremyss rose, and passing through the 
 hall, took her way along the terrace, followed by 
 Edith and Isabel. As they came to the dining- 
 room window, Isabel's roving eye rested on the
 
 66 TKEASON AT HOME. 
 
 mole lying dead beside the steps. A little trail 
 of blood showed where he had made his way from 
 the dining room. 
 
 " See, there's the little gentleman in velvet, as 
 the old song says," she said, pointing him out to 
 Edith. 
 
 Lady Tremyss turned her head. 
 
 " It's the mole, mamma. Mimi caught him, 
 and we chased her into the dining room to get 
 him away, and he crept under the carpet. It was 
 then you came in." 
 
 Lady Tremyss walked quietly on. She led the 
 way through Isabel's flower garden to a door in 
 the high wall beyond. As she opened it, a small 
 black Irish horse which was grazing at the ex- 
 tremity of the enclosure, raised its head and 
 gazed attentively towards them. As it recog- 
 nized Lady Tremyss, it gave a plunge, and came 
 galloping towards her, its long thick mane and 
 tail flying behind it. It circled around the 
 group, whinnying joyfully, then, coming close, it 
 laid its head on Lady Tremyss' shoulder.
 
 TREASON AT HOME. 67 
 
 ^' See," said Isabel to Edith, who looked some- 
 what apprehensive, as if she feared a similar 
 friendly demonstration. " She is just like a 
 dog, and so easy ! Come, Moira, I am going 
 round the paddock to show you off. Down !" 
 
 The horse crouched like a dog, and Isabel 
 seated herself upon its back. 
 
 " Around, mavourneen, around, — softly," she 
 said. The pony rose carefully, and cantered 
 gently around the paddock with a wave-like 
 motion. • 
 
 Edith's eye followed with delight Isabel's 
 graceful figure and easy movements. 
 
 " How beautifully you ride," she remarked, as 
 Isabel returned to her starting point. 
 
 " Oh, but you should see mamma," she ex- 
 claimed, springing down. " I'm nothing to 
 mamma." 
 
 Lady Tremyss turned silently, and led the way 
 to the gate. Leaving the paddock, they went 
 towards the house. 
 
 " Where's the mole," said Isabel, as they
 
 68 TREASON AT HOME. 
 
 neared the diDing room steps. " Mimi, you 
 know." 
 
 The mole had disappeared. Mimi couched be- 
 side the place where he had lain. 
 
 '^ Please make her go away," said Edith, who 
 shared the feeling, whether of fear or of distrust, 
 that many sensitive natures experience when 
 brought into contact with any variety of the 
 feline race. " 1 know it's foolish, but I can't 
 bear to have a cat near me." 
 
 " What would you do if you saw a tiger, then ?" 
 asked Isabel, signifying to Mimi that her presence 
 was not desired. 
 
 " I don't know. I never saw one.*' 
 '' Neither did 1, but I mean to. There's going 
 to be such a great show of wild beasts in the 
 town ! I've been watching it in the papers ever 
 so long. I know it's horrid to go to such a 
 place, but for all that I mean to do it. I don't 
 exactly know how I shall manage it," she added, 
 meditatively, '' but I shall go ; I'm dying to see 
 it."
 
 TREASON AT HOME. 69 
 
 Dismissing the subject, she chatted about 
 other things until Mrs. Arden*s return. 
 
 ^' Well, my dear, and how do you like Isabel ?" 
 asked Mrs. Arden, as the carriage rolled down 
 the avenue. 
 
 "Very much.'* 
 
 " And Lady Tremyss ?" 
 
 '^ I don't know. " 
 
 " Poor thing," continued Mrs. Arden, compas- 
 sionately ; " she's had many trials. I don't see 
 how she has lived through them all, I really 
 don't ; and drowning is such a dreadful death ! 
 Peoj)le don't look at all as they do in pictures of 
 it, not at all. I used to think it was such a 
 pleasant way of dying, quite sweet, and so 
 easy ; and then there's that beautiful en- 
 graving of a dead saint floating on a river, so 
 touching ; — but I read an account of a visit to the 
 Morgue. The man had got in behind where 
 people don't usually go, and, dear me, it was all 
 so different ! I felt quite upset for several days 
 after reading it, I did indeed. The poor people
 
 70 TREASON AT HOME. 
 
 were all screwed up into S's and Z's ; ugh !" And 
 a timely shudder came to cut short any further 
 reminiscences of what the man had seen behind 
 the Morgue. 
 
 But Edith's attention had not followed her 
 aunt in her discursive comments upon Lady 
 Tremyss' domestic afflictions. She was busy in 
 wondering why Isabel had never once spoken 
 of Walter. 
 
 As the carriage passed the couchant sphinxes 
 and turned into the road, she looked around her, 
 and gave a sigh of relief. She had not seen 
 Goliath, 
 
 Isabel was as good as her word. The next 
 day Moira appeared, led by a groom who bore an 
 affectionate note to Edith, concluding with an 
 entreaty that she would keep the horse as long as 
 she liked. 
 
 The groom waited until Walter's horse was 
 brought to the door, and Edith descended. 
 
 "I beg pardon. Miss,'' he said, touching his 
 hat, as Edith cast a timid glance upon the mare.
 
 TREASON AT HOME. 71 
 
 '^ bufc there isn't no cause to be shy of her. She*s 
 as gentle as a lamb, and ten times more intelli- 
 genter. If you'd allow me to advise you, Miss, 
 you'll leave your whip at home. You need only 
 speak to her, she'll understand; but as for a 
 whip, she doesn't like it." 
 
 " What would she do ?" asked Edith, distrust- 
 
 ftilly. 
 
 "Well, Miss, she wouldn't like it; but, as I 
 said, you haven't nothing to think about when 
 you're on her ; she'll take good care of you. Goocl 
 morning, Miss." 
 
 Moira seemed aware of the groom's enconiums, 
 and determined to merit them. Exchanging her 
 canter for an amble, she paced gently along 
 beside Walter's high stepping bay, gradually 
 reassuring Edith, until, she forgot to be afraid 
 and began to chat as if she were on the white 
 pony. ^ 
 
 They were approaching a, farm house, and 
 Edith was delightedly expatiating on the beauty of 
 some little red and white calves which, huddled
 
 72 TREASON AT HOME. 
 
 together in a ferny corner of a field, were looking 
 over the hedge with their large, soft, startled eyes, 
 curiously gazing at the passers by, when a bull- 
 dog rushed from the open gate of the farm yard, 
 and with the detestable instinct which always 
 teaches his race where attack will inflict the 
 keenest distress, made a furious onset upon 
 Moira's shoulders, jumping up as if trying to 
 reach Edith. 
 
 Walter flung himself from his horse, but 
 before he could reach the spot, Moira had wheeled 
 so as to bring her hind legs into position, and 
 inflicting two vigorous kicks upon the brute, flung 
 him forcibly against the stone wall. 
 
 After assuring himself that Edith's fright had 
 nothing in it alarming, Walter turned from her. 
 
 " I'm not afraid to leave you an instant. Moira 
 will stand," he said, glancing at the mare, who, 
 her eyes shining brightly from beneath her heavy 
 front lock, was watching with evident complacency 
 the retreat of her limping, yelping foe. He 
 advanced to the farm yard.
 
 TREASON AT HOME. 73 
 
 ^' Farmer Robeson," he said, quietly addressing 
 a shambling, long faced man, who was in a luke- 
 warm manner superintending the erection of a 
 new cow shed, and who had paid no attention 
 to the savage outburst of his dog, " I have 
 warned you three times already about that dog. 
 I now give you another warning. Your lease is 
 out next October ; you will do well to look 
 for another farm. Grood morning." Without 
 waiting for any reply, young Arden, who acted 
 as agent for his aunt, mounted his horse and 
 proceeded on his way with Edith, leaving his 
 tenant with gaping eyes and open mouth, whence 
 the sentence came slowly dropping — 
 
 " The young Squire ! Who'ud ha thought it !" 
 " Who'd have thought it?" repeated Mrs. 
 Robeson, a plump, black eyed, little woman, 
 who came flying from the house into the farm- 
 yard like a bomb shell, and there exploded. 
 *' Whn'd have thought it ? Any body that had 
 two eyes beside their nose, and a head a-top of 
 them, would have thought it. Haven't you been 
 
 VOL. I. E
 
 74 TREASON AT HOME. 
 
 behindhand with your rent, till anyone else 
 would have turned you out long ago ? " Like 
 many other women, Mrs. Robeson, on occa- 
 sions of distressful emergency, invariably 
 abandoned the customary conjugal plural. 
 ^'Haven't I been preaching and preaching, 
 till I was as hoarse as a young turkey-chick with 
 the pip, telling you that you had better keep on 
 the right side of the young Squire, for that he'd 
 got a wrong one to him, for all so pleasant as 
 he looks. And now you can do no better than 
 to bring him here, with his face as white as a 
 sheet, and his eyes two coals of fire, to tell you 
 that the lease is out next October. And such 
 an easy rent I and all the money for repairs and 
 drainage I and where are you going to find such 
 grass land again? — G-et out of my sight, you cur," 
 she exclaimed, the stream of her indignation being 
 for the moment diverted from its original 
 direction by the yelps of the cause of the disaster ; 
 and seizing a rake, she drove the offender into 
 an empty cart room, there to moralize on social
 
 TREASON AT HOME. 75 
 
 distinctions, whilst awaiting his doom. Then 
 briskly returning to the house, without deigning 
 a glance at her partner, she dressed herself in 
 her best, and picking a bunch of the brightest 
 flowers her garden aiforded, and gathering a 
 basket of her finest fruit, she betook herself 
 to the Hall, ensconcing herself in the house- 
 keeper's room, until the time of Edith's return. 
 '' I've looked at her in church, and I'll trust 
 
 her to make our peace with the young S(][uire 
 
 • 
 
 and Madam Arden. She looks as soft as snow, 
 but there's steel has gone to the making of her, 
 ni warrant." 
 
 Nor did Dame Robeson's manner of acquit- 
 ting herself of her embassy, disgrace her 
 penetration. Having, by Nitson's intermediation, 
 been admitted to an interview with the young 
 lady, she enumerated to Edith the many favours 
 her husband had received from the family ; and 
 lamented his thriftlessness and remissness, 
 especially in the matter of the rent. 
 
 *^ He's a regular born innocent, poor man, 
 
 E 2
 
 76 TREASON AT HOME. 
 
 Miss," she said; — for dame Robeson exchanged her 
 home trumpet for a flute, when she crossed the 
 domestic threshold. She penitently accused 
 herself as the guilty cause of the dog being 
 retained, giving as her excuse that the farm-house 
 was a lonely one, and that the previous tenant 
 had been saved from the murderous midnight 
 attack of three robbers, solely by the timely 
 interference of a ferocious watch dog ; and finally 
 she besought Edith to save them from the double 
 misfortune of losing at once so advantageous a 
 lease and so good a landlord ; " for Miss," she 
 concluded, "it is not for the like of me to be 
 praising my betters, but I say no more than all 
 the parish says, when I say that there isn't a 
 gentleman in the whole county that can stand 
 beside our young Squire." 
 
 And Edith, her sympathies strongly excited by 
 Mrs. Robeson's manner of stating her case, 
 promised to speak in farmer Robeson's behalf. 
 
 The subject was under discussion as she entered 
 the drawing-room before dinner.
 
 TREASON AT HOME. 77 
 
 " I never liked Robeson, never liked him at 
 all," Mrs. Arden was saying. " I'm glad he i« 
 going, I'd rather have him off the estate than on 
 it. I don't care so much about his not paying 
 his rent, but when it's got so that people can't 
 be sure of their lives passing his gate, I say it's 
 time he was gone," she ended; her habitual 
 benevolence quite over balanced for the moment, 
 by the ascendency of her timidity. To her 
 imagination, excited as it had been by the 
 account of the creature's attack upon Edith, 'the 
 bull-dog stood four feet fiYQ in his toes, and was 
 of corresponding dimensions. " No, I'm deter- 
 mined he shall go the day his lease is out, and 
 you did quite right to tell him so." 
 
 The moment was unpropitious : Edith must 
 wait. But she had not to wait long ; the wished 
 for opportunity soon presented itself. 
 
 ^' How much stronger you have grown," 
 said Walter, as they sat over the chess table after 
 dinner, slowly arranging the pieces. He con-
 
 78 TREASON AT HOME. 
 
 templated with satisfaction the rounding outlines 
 of her figure, and the delicate pink of her cheek. 
 ^' I am sure that fright would have knocked you 
 up a little while ago." 
 
 '^ Do you know I like that Roman Catholic 
 custom of acts of gratitude," responded Edith, 
 without any very obvious reference to her cousin's 
 remark. 
 
 *^ What are they ? I never heard of them." 
 
 " When one has some great good to be thank- 
 ful for, they do something to make others happy. 
 Is it not a good practice ? " 
 
 " Yes, that's all right." 
 
 " Then will you help me ? " she asked, with 
 one of her smiles. 
 
 ** But you must first tell me what your act of 
 gratitude is to give thanks for ? " 
 
 '^ It is for being brought here," she answered, 
 
 simply. 
 
 As she met the earnest, unconsciously searching 
 glance he fastened upon her, a blush rose on
 
 TREASON AT HOME. 79 
 
 Edith's cheek, a blush that comes but once ; the 
 blush of the young girl who feels for the first time 
 that she is no longer a child. 
 
 A something, he knew not what, almost painful 
 in its sweetness, thrilled Walter from head to 
 foot. 
 
 — Was that blush for him ? — 
 
 *^ Ask me anything," he said. 
 
 " Let farmer Kobeson stay." 
 
 " Anything." 
 
 The adventure of the bull-dog had probably 
 somewhat shaken Edith's nerves, for she awoke 
 from her next morning's slumber with a piercing 
 shriek, much to the alarm of Nitson, who was 
 sewing at the window. She dropped her scissors, 
 upset her work-basket, and sprang forward. 
 
 " Oh ! gracious me. Miss, you've had a bad 
 dream." 
 
 ** Yes," replied Edith, glancing around with an 
 expression of relief. " I dreamed that Sir
 
 80 TREASON AT HOME. 
 
 Ealph's portrait was trying to get out of the 
 picture gallery, and that Miss Hartley and I 
 were holding the door against it. Oh ! there it is 
 again!" she exclaimed, as a loud clap came from 
 without. 
 
 " Dear me, Miss, that's only a blind on the 
 next story that has got loose. The wind is rather 
 high this morning." 
 
 '^ What a face Sir Kalph's is," said Edith un- 
 easily, half to herself. *^ I wish I had not seen 
 it." 
 
 *^ Oh, but Miss, you must not let a picture 
 that's nothing but a picture get on your nerves. 
 Sir Ealph wasn't a bad sort of a gentleman, 
 for all that he was rather ill-favoured. My third 
 cousin by the mother's side was housekeeper at 
 the Park till she died, last year, of an annyeurism, 
 the doctors said it was ; and I've spent many an 
 hour there, and knew all the ongoings of the 
 house as well as if I lived there. Sir Ralph 
 just fairly doated on my lady. To be 
 sure, he never wanted her to speak to any-
 
 TREASON AT HOME. 81 
 
 "body se, and lie was even jealous- like of Miss 
 Hartley, but that was all along of his great love 
 for her. He'd have given her the eyes out of his 
 head. Why, that very horse you rode yesterday, 
 Miss, Sir Ralph paid four hundred guineas for it- 
 Not that it was worth it, for it wasn't. I've 
 heard the coachman say its value wasn't much 
 except for the tricks it can do, for it was trained 
 like a dog ;— and that's only one thing out of 
 many." 
 
 ''You say he was jealous of Miss Hartley?'* 
 asked Edith. 
 
 '' Oh, yes. Miss !" replied Nitson, much pleased 
 at the unwonted liberty her tongue was allowed. 
 'Tm sorry to say there wasn't no doubt about 
 that. The servants said he would scowl if he 
 did but hear her voice. It might have frightened 
 another child, but she was as bold as a little 
 lion. She never went near him, to be sure, but 
 that wasn't because she was afraid of him. Once 
 I was in the housekeeper's room, and she was 
 running through the long entry, and she met Sir 
 
 £ 5
 
 82 TREASON AT HOME. 
 
 Ralph. That entry was like a sort of whispering 
 gallery, you could hear anything that was said in 
 it from one end to the other. They stopped for 
 a moment. I suppose he looked at her some way 
 she did not like, for the next minute I heard 
 her say * I hate you, Sir Ralph,' and off she ran. 
 I expect his conscience pricked him for his dislike 
 of her, for I heard him mutter, ^ she's right.' " 
 
 " And Goliath ? " questioned Edith, turning 
 on her side, and looking inquiringly at Nitson. 
 *^ Then you know something about him." 
 
 " Oh, Miss, there's a man ! If ever there was 
 a good Christian on this earth, it's Mr. Goliath, 
 for all his black skin — not that his skin goes 
 against it, for I've heard that one of the chiefest 
 fathers of the church, as they call them, was a 
 black man. But as for Mr. Goliath, for long 
 suffering and patient mindedness, he is a crown 
 of glory." Nitson's images when she was excited 
 on any topic, were apt to become obscure. 
 '* Why, Miss, the day Sir Ralph threw the decanter 
 at him, and cut open his face, and it's a mercy he
 
 TREASON AT HOME. 83 
 
 didn't make him blind of an eye for life— that very- 
 day when Mrs. Pralvn, that was the housekeeper that 
 was my cousin, was staunching the wound, for it 
 bled most fearful, and binding it up, she couldn't 
 help saying something sharp about Sir Ralph. 
 She told me she couldn't keep her tongue between 
 her teeth for that once, for all that she was a prudent 
 woman that didn't look upon herself as justified 
 in bearing any witness against her masters. 
 And what do you think Mr. Goliath answered, 
 Miss ? He said Sir Ralph was hot in his tefnper 
 always, but that it was nothing to think about. 
 Sir Ralph would feel sorry some day. My cousin, 
 Mrs. Praylin, the housekeeper, said that she 
 looked at him as he spoke, and at that very 
 moment, what with the pain and the natural 
 grief he felt at receiving such a hurt, his face was 
 quite a pale greenish colour, instead of being black 
 as it always was before and after. And he might 
 well take it to heart. Miss, for though it's hard to 
 believe now that' he has got that awful scar, he 
 used to be one of the handsomest men I ever
 
 84 TREASON AT HOME. 
 
 looked on, in spite of his colour, and now there 
 isn't nobody that can brook the sight of him 
 scarcely. Some wonder why Lady Tremyss keeps 
 him in such a place, but he's been in the family 
 a long time, and the scar is none of his fault. 
 But, Miss, I'm tiring you, I expect, and that 
 before you are out of your bed." 
 
 And Nitson actively commenced the prepara- 
 tions for Edith's toilette. 
 
 Edith would gladly have questioned her about 
 Lady Tremyss, but her disinclination to hear 
 more of Nitson's gossip overcame her curiosity, 
 and she finished dressing, and lef^ the room 
 without any further conversation with her 
 maid. 
 
 Her dream, and Nitson's commentary, faded 
 from her mind as she descended the staircase, 
 and her thoughts reverted to her embarrassment 
 of the previous evening. As she entered the 
 breakfast-room, the flush that haunted her 
 memory re-appeared upon her cheeks. It was 
 only as the breakfast proceeded that she at length
 
 TREASON AT HOME. 85 
 
 became at ease. He talked just as usual. He 
 certainly had not noticed it. 
 
 And all the time before Walter's eyes floated 
 the rosy light of Edith's blush. 
 
 The day was fine. The horses came to the 
 door, Moira still officiating in place of the little 
 white pony, and Edith and Walter took their 
 way through the avenue, and past the rounding 
 hollows of the Headland farm. 
 
 As they turned their horses into a narrow and 
 unfrequented lane, in which Walter assured Tier 
 she would find any quantity of eglantine, they 
 perceived at a little distance, a man walking 
 from them. There was an air of dejection and 
 neglect about him, that scarcely warranted by 
 his powerful frame. 
 
 Moira suddenly quickened her pace, and press- 
 ing close to the man, thrust her nose into his 
 hand. He looked round quickly. 
 
 " Is it you, old girl — is it you?" he said. " I 
 might have known you weren't a human, to be 
 so friendly." Then raising his eyes, he touched
 
 86 TKEASON AT HOME. 
 
 his hat to Walter. " Beg pardon, Sir; but you 
 saw it was none of my fault. I always took 
 care of her, and she remembers." 
 
 He patted Moira's neck. 
 
 " I am sorry to see you in such a poor plight, 
 George," said young Arden, disapproval and 
 compassion struggling in his tone. 
 
 " Thank you, Sir. I never thought to see my- 
 self like this." 
 
 The man glanced at his tattered sleeve. 
 
 " I should have thought so good a groom as 
 you are would have been able to find a place." 
 
 " Ah, Sir ! you know the proverb about giving 
 a dog a bad name. It's worse for a man. I've 
 found places enough, and all seemed straight 
 until they asked the name of my last master. 
 And that was the end of it ; for you know. Sir, 
 it was all in the papers how — " The man 
 stopped a moment. — " I did get a place with a 
 horse breaker ; but. Sir, it's hard when you've 
 lived under gentlemen all your life, to take 
 orders from them as aren't gentlemen. I had
 
 TEEASON AT HOME. 87 
 
 good wages, and I understood the work, but I 
 wasn't contented, Sir. I gave it up, and tried 
 again to get into a gentleman's stables ; but 
 it wasn't of no use." 
 
 " What brought you back to this part of the 
 country? You surely must have known that 
 your chance was better elsewhere." 
 
 ^' Well, Sir — I may as well say it — there was a 
 young woman. Sir — " His face twitched. " But 
 there's no use in speaking of that, Sir. It is all 
 over, and I don't blame her." • 
 
 There was something in the man's utter dejec- 
 tion and unresenting hopelessness that pained 
 Edith to the quick. She averted her eyes, though 
 she sat where he could not see her. 
 
 '^ It is hard on you, George, I acknowledge, 
 very hard, that one single instance — for I believe 
 it was the only time — " 
 
 " The only time, Sir, in all my life. I never 
 liked drink. I never wanted it. And all along 
 of one glass of wine."
 
 88 TREASON AT HOME. 
 
 " How's that?" enquired Walter, somewhat 
 distrustfully. 
 
 '' So sure as God Almighty is above us, Mr. 
 Arden, I never touched a drop of anything that 
 day, except a pint of ale and one glass of wine." 
 
 *^ How came you to be drinking wine ?" 
 
 Young Arden did not like the improbability of 
 the assertion. His voice was growing colder. 
 
 '^ It was Mr. Goliath, Sir. Just before Sir 
 Ralph started, Mr. Goliath called me into the 
 pantry, and told me that my lady was very 
 uneasy because my master was going to ride 
 Kathleen. He told me to keep a good look- 
 out, and see that no harm came of it ; and he 
 poured me out a glass of port wine, and I drank 
 it. I didn't like the taste of it much, but I had 
 never tasted any before ; and, Sir, it got into 
 my head. I began to feel queer while I was 
 riding, but the air kept it off awhile. When 
 we got there and I went into the servants' hall, 
 I couldn't hold my head up. I sat down in a
 
 TREASON AT HOME. 89 
 
 window-seat, and never spoke a word. They 
 said I was asleep ; but I wasn't, Sir. I was 
 looking at faces all the time." 
 
 " What do you mean, George?" said young 
 Arden. "• Looking at faces !" 
 
 " Looking at faces, Sir," the man repeated, 
 
 firmly. " 1 saw them plainer than I see you 
 
 now." He fixed his haggard eyes on the 
 
 young gentleman. '^ I thought I was in a sort 
 
 of tool-house, whitewashed, with black patches 
 
 here and there, where the whitewash had peeled 
 
 off, and so long that I didn't see the end of it. 
 
 And there were people — a whole procession of 
 
 them — that never stopped; and they stared at 
 
 me as they went by ; and their faces were so thin, 
 
 and so white, and so starved -looking, and some 
 
 of them looked so wicked. Sir, that I'd have 
 
 looked away, only I couldn't. At last some 
 
 one came and told me as how the gentlemen 
 
 were going. I got up, and some of the other 
 
 grooms helped me to get my master's and my 
 
 own horse ready ; but they'd no sooner got me
 
 90 TREASON AT HOME. 
 
 into my saddle than I fell off, and after that 1 
 didn't know anything till they woke me up next 
 morning — for I stayed in the barn all night on 
 the hay — telling me that Sir Ralph was drownded, 
 and all along of me." 
 
 " This is a strange story, George," said young 
 Arden, doubtfully ; " a very strange story. I 
 never heard of a man's being intoxicated by a 
 single glass of wine."" 
 
 The man made no reply. 
 
 Edith bent forward. 
 
 " Walter, I believe every word he has said." 
 
 " God bless you. Miss," burst from the man's 
 lips. 
 
 **rve watched him, and he is telling the 
 truth." 
 
 Walter looked at her a moment. A kindred 
 conviction was beginning to communicate itself 
 to his mind 
 
 "I can't stop longer now," he said to the 
 groom, " but come to the Hall to-morrow morn- 
 ing. I'll see what can be done."
 
 TREASON AT HOME. 91 
 
 Slipping a piece of money into the man's 
 reluctant hand, he rode on with Edith. 
 
 " I don't understand the thing at all," he said, 
 ponderingly. " A single glass of wine? It 
 sounds like a bare-faced falsehood." 
 
 " I don't judge people by facts," — Edith 
 remarked. 
 
 ** No ?" said her cousin. ^' By what do you judge 
 them then ?" 
 
 *^ I judge them by their faces. Faces never 
 deceive, but facts may ; I mean what we think 
 facts, may." 
 
 " And are you never deceived in faces ?" 
 
 '^ I sometimes meet faces that I cannot under 
 stand — Lady Tremyss' for instance; but I never 
 make up my mind and find afterwards that I 
 have been mistaken." 
 
 '^You know we men aren't so sharp witted 
 as women in that way. We have nothirg but 
 facts to go by." 
 
 •^ What are you going to do for that poor
 
 92 TREASON AT HOME. 
 
 man ?" — interrupted Edith, aware, that in spite 
 of facts, the groom's cause was gained. 
 
 '^ I'm sure I don't know. It's very awkward. 
 I can't take him myself, because of Lady Tre- 
 myss." 
 
 " No, you could not do that, and he would not 
 be happy ; you remember what — " 
 Edith paused. 
 
 *' Poor fellow ! I pity him from the bottom of 
 my heart," said Walter, his natural benevolence 
 now in full ascendency. 
 
 He rode on for a while in silence, then, abruptly 
 turning to Edith, said : 
 
 ^^ What do you think of sending him out to 
 Canada? He would have a new chance there." 
 
 " I think it would be just the thing," she ex- 
 claimed eagerly, " the very best thing. All the 
 disgrace and pain would lie behind him, and he 
 would still be among his own people. I think 
 it an admirable idea. I wish he could know it 
 
 now."
 
 TKEASON AT HOME. 93 
 
 *^ Would you like to turn back and tell him ?" 
 asked Walter, drawing his rein. '' He has not 
 gone far." 
 
 " Oh, no, I am not quite so impatient as that. 
 It would be better to have everything settled and 
 arranged, and to look in the paper to see when 
 the next vessel sails, and to tell him everything 
 at once. We will wait till to-morrow morning." 
 On reaching the Hall they found Mrs. Arden 
 in a state of excitement, Nitson having reported 
 Letty Prast as crying her eyes out and refusing 
 to say why. 
 
 *^ What has distressed Letty so much?" asked 
 Edith. 
 
 " It's all about a man, and a very bad man, 
 I'm sorry to say. It's that groom of Sir Ralph's. 
 It seems they used to be fond of each other when 
 she was in service at the Park, and she had 
 set her heart on him, and they were to have 
 been married as soon as they had saved up a 
 little money ; and I declare I can't help being 
 sorry for her, I can't indeed, for it wasn't her
 
 94 TREASON AT HOME. 
 
 fault, you know. Then all that happened, and 
 her mother made her promise never to have any- 
 thing more to say to him ; and now he's come 
 back, and I'm afraid he got a sight of her last 
 night, for she's done nothing but cry ever since. 
 She'd have cried a great deal more if she had 
 married him, and so I told Nitson, and Nitson 
 said that she'd told her so, and said all the other 
 comforting things to her that she could think of ; 
 but that at all she said she only cried the more." 
 Leaving Walter to explain as much of George's 
 story as he thought proper, Edith proceeded 
 
 c 
 
 through the offices until she reached the laundry. 
 
 Her knock, for she did not wish to take the girl 
 by surprise, was answered by a stifled '^ Come in." 
 
 Letty stood diligently ironing a damask table 
 cloth. She did not raise her head at Edith's en- 
 trance. The young lady stood for a moment 
 uncertain how to begin. The presence of a great 
 grief will check the expression of the kindliest 
 sympathy. Letty continued her occupation in 
 silence. At last Edith spoke.
 
 TREASON AT HOME. 95 
 
 " I have heard, Letty— -I have come to tell you 
 how sorry I am." 
 
 " Thank you. Miss," Letty answered, and went 
 on with her ironing. Anyone might have thought 
 the girl devoid of feeling were it not for the beat- 
 ing of the vein in her throat. 
 
 Edith bent over the ironing table. 
 
 *' I have seen him, seen him this morning, and 
 I do not believe he has done anything wrong." 
 
 Letty dropped her iron, sat down, covered her 
 head with her apron and began to cry bitterly. 
 
 "It is very hard, very hard indeed, that he 
 should be innocent, and that every one should 
 believe him guilty," Edith continued. 
 
 " Not me. Miss, I never thought him guilty, 
 never, never, oh! never," sobbed Letty from 
 under her apron. 
 
 " Mr. Arden is going to try to get him a place 
 with a friend of his, and I am sure you will not 
 be sorry to have him go where he can begin life 
 afresh;" — Letty made a movement of attention —
 
 96 TREASON AT HOME. 
 
 *^ He is going to ask this gentleman to take 
 George with him to Canada." 
 
 A suppressed exclamation came from under the 
 apron. 
 
 '' It seems a long way oiF, I know, but he will 
 soon be there, and then he will have no one to 
 bring up all these stories against him, and he 
 will be like a new man ; and bye-and-bye he will 
 come back, or, perhaps, you might go out to 
 him." 
 
 Letty burst afresh into weeping. 
 
 *' Oh, Miss ! I promised my mother, and I 
 can't. I would now if it wasn't for that, and I 
 told him so last night ; but I cannot break my 
 promise. I wish I hadn't made it ; but it's too 
 late now — it's too late." 
 
 " Don't say too late," urged Edith. " I can't 
 think that anything so dreadful as the innocent 
 being thought guilty can go on for ever. Don't 
 cry, Letty, take heart, and believe that better 
 days are coming." And after encouraging and
 
 TREASON AT HOME. 97 
 
 comforting Letty to the best of her ability, find- 
 ing it difficult to maintain a conversation which 
 consisted solely of exhortations on the one side, 
 and sobs on the other, Edith left the laundry to 
 confer anew with Walter. 
 
 The next morning no George appeared at the 
 Hall. A poor woman came to say that he could 
 not move from his bed. Edith had the woman 
 brought into the hall, and went out to see her. 
 
 " He's dreadful bad. Miss, — tooked with the 
 rheumatiz all over. He can't move no more* nor 
 his hand, poor soul, and he's all of a live coal with 
 the fever. He said he couldn't no ways bear 
 that the young Squire and the Miss should think 
 ill of him, for not coming up, so I just made 
 bold to come up myself. Miss." 
 
 Further questions elicited the cause of George's 
 illness : he had slept for the three preceding 
 nights under hedges. 
 
 Mrs. Arden effervesced into active benevolence 
 forthwith, and ordered a basket to be made ready 
 with all the comforts the occasion required. She 
 
 VOL. 1. F
 
 98 TREASON AT HOME. 
 
 would gladly liave gone down herself, but 
 Walter protested, and despatched a groom for 
 Dr. Frintly, dismissiag the woman with Mrs. 
 A.rden's basket, and a message that he would call 
 himself in the course of the day. 
 
 *^ I think Letty had better not hear anything 
 about it," said Mrs. Arden, returning to the par- 
 lour. '' I've told Wiggins not to say a word 
 about it. She couldn't go down to take care of 
 him,' you know, and this Dingall seems a nice 
 sort of a woman, and will take good care of him, 
 IVe no doubt, very good care indeed : it would 
 only make the girl more miserable to hear about 
 it, and, from what Nitson says, she's bad enough 
 now, quite bad enough, so she is not to know 
 anything." A decision which appeared the best 
 practicable, and which was accordingly adhered to. 
 When Walter called that afternoon at Mrs. 
 Dingall's cottage, he found the man in a 
 stupor. 
 
 '' He's been so. Sir, pretty nearly ever since 
 he took the doctor's stuff," said the woman.
 
 TREASON AT HOME. 99 
 
 '' He was in dreadful pain before ; but he quieted 
 down very soon, and hasn't taken notice of any- 
 thing since." 
 
 The stupor went off before the evening, and 
 when Doctor Frintly called again at eight o'clock, 
 he found his patient awake. 
 
 " Well, my man, how's the pain ?" he said, 
 cheerfully, as he entered the little attic ; skilfully 
 avoiding bringing his head in contact with the 
 low, slanting roof, while he advanced to the bed 
 side. 
 
 " The pain is easier, Sir, thank you ; but 
 please. Sir, for God's sake, don't never give me 
 no more port wine.'* 
 
 ^' Port wine," repeated the doctor, darting a 
 scrutinizing glance at his face. " Who's been 
 giving you port wine ?" 
 
 " Mrs. Dingall, Sir. She brought it from the 
 apothecary's." 
 
 " Mrs. Dingall didn't know what she was 
 talking about when she called it port wine. It 
 was an anodyne." 
 
 F 2
 
 100 TREASON AT HOME. 
 
 ^' It wasn't she, Sir. I've tasted it before, and 
 what I had this morning was port wine." 
 
 " Hope he isn't out of his head," thought the 
 doctor, feeling his patient's pulse. The anodyne 
 had certainly not produced the effect he had antici- 
 pated. The man's pulse was higher, his eye was 
 r'^stless, his nerves were obviously much excited ^ 
 
 ''•Where was it that you drank port wine?" he 
 questioned, carefully examining the man's 
 countenance as he spoke. 
 
 " In the pantry at the Park, Sir." 
 
 " Well, if you drank it there, you drank pre- 
 cious good wine, I can tell you. Sir Ralph's 
 cellar was the best in the county." 
 
 ''This was just like it. Sir." 
 
 " He's not out of his head," thought Dr. 
 Frintly, as the result of his investigation. " What 
 the devil can he be talking about?" 
 
 <' How did it taste?" 
 
 '' Queerish, Sir." 
 
 " Queerish. A good many things taste 
 queerish beside port wine."
 
 TREASON AT HOME. 101 
 
 " It wasn't only the taste, Sir, it was how it 
 made me feel." 
 
 '^ How did it make you feel?" 
 
 '^ Most dreadful. Sir." 
 
 "Well, but how?" 
 
 " I'd rather not say, Sir, please ; I don't like 
 to think about it," said George, glancing uneasily 
 around. 
 
 ^* He tells a straight story enough — puzzling 
 enough, too," thought the doctor. " It may^be 
 that port wine disagrees with him — sherry does 
 with some people ; but it wasn't port wine. — Can 
 it be that that rascally Barrows has sent him 
 port wine instead of the anodyne ! I'll see." 
 
 Giving a few directions to the woman, and 
 writing a new prescription, he got into his gig, 
 and drove to the apothecary's shop. 
 
 His knocks, vigorous as they were, sounded 
 but faintly to the ears of Mr. Barrows, who, in 
 the little inner room, stretched upon two chairs, 
 was holding a bottle of chloroform to his nose. 
 
 " That's some one knocking," he said at length,
 
 102 TREASON AT HOME. 
 
 meditatively, to himself; but it required a whole 
 volley of subsequent peals to rouse him from his 
 recumbent position, and bring him to the door. 
 
 He opened it, then, with a swaying motion, 
 retreated behind the counter, where he stood un- 
 der the dim light of the smoky lamp, supporting 
 himself upon both hands. 
 
 '* Well. Barrows, you've kept me long enough 
 hammering there. What were you about? Taking 
 a nap, I'll be bound." 
 
 Mr. Barrows went through a mental calculation 
 as to whether he had better say yes or no. He 
 decided in favour of yes, as being most amicable 
 and thereby tending to stave off enquiry. 
 
 '' Yes, sir." 
 
 Dr. Frintly turned and drew in his breath 
 two or three times through his nostrils, striking 
 terror to the soul of Barrows. 
 
 " You've been making up something with 
 chloroform, haven't you?" 
 
 '^Yes, sir." 
 
 There was a very disagreeable ringing in
 
 TREASON AT HOME. 103 
 
 Barrow's ears. He feared it would tip him over, 
 and held on tighter than ever to the counter. 
 
 *^Some of Folfrew's stuff, I suppose," con- 
 tinued Dr. Frintly, with a little '' whew" of dis- 
 gust. Dr. Folfrew being a rival practitioner, who 
 had contracted a bad habit of getting in his way. 
 
 Mr. Barrow's attention was for the moment 
 absorbed by the rapidly increasing magnitude 
 and brilliancy of Dr. Frintly's gilt waiscoat but- 
 tons ; but suddenly coming to a perception that 
 he was expected to say something, he answered, 
 ^*Yes, sir." 
 
 ** I haven't come to talk about his tom-fool 
 prescriptions. I suppose it's a lotion for some 
 old woman's cat." 
 
 Yes, sir, seemed to answer very well. Mr. 
 Barrows thought it prudent to keep to it, so he 
 again replied, '^Yes, sir." 
 
 Dr. Frintly rubbed his hands together and 
 laughed aloud with a mixture of professional and 
 gladiatorial delight.
 
 104 TREASON AT HOME. 
 
 ** I've guessed it then ! I never thought of 
 hitting true. What a capital story against 
 Folfrew." 
 
 Dr. Frintly's indignation was for the moment 
 in a fair way of total evaporation in his satisfac- 
 tion at the idea of what a handle against Folfrew 
 the '' Sick cat Lotion" would prove ; but a reminis- 
 cence of the port wine returning, he all at once 
 changed his tone and addressed Mr. Barrows, who 
 was trying to count the bottles on the opposite 
 shelf by way of steadying his head. 
 
 '* Now, Barrows, just tell me one thing. Did 
 you give that woman, Dingall, port wine instead 
 of the anodyne this morning?" 
 
 Barrows attempted to repeat the question to 
 himself, but the words faded into thin air. The 
 only fact that he was conscious of was that a 
 face which had suddenly become ireful, was look- 
 ing at him, expecting an answer. " No," might 
 lead to further questions, and what were the 
 questions about? From out the cloud of his
 
 TREASON AT HOME. 105 
 
 mental faculties the hapless Barrows agaia meekly 
 uttered, 
 
 " Yes, sir." 
 
 " And what in the devil's name did you do 
 that for?" vociferated Dr. Frintly, giving a blow 
 with his fist on the edge of the desk, which jarred 
 everything around. '' Do you know that if you'd 
 made the mistake the other way you might have 
 killed somebody?" 
 
 Barrows closed his eyes and tried to think 
 what it was all about. * 
 
 ^' Pretty mess you might have made of it ! 
 Where is Witchkins ? In bed, I suppose, and 
 long enough he'll stay there unless he gets better 
 care than his own to pull him through. Give him 
 my compliments and tell him that I advise him 
 
 to get a new assistant. 
 
 ?? 
 
 Barrows, who was by this time impressed with 
 the idea that he was lying on his back behind the 
 counter, and that the upper half of Dr. Frintly's 
 body, minus legs, was floating close to the ceiling 
 directly above him, in a state of terrific indigna- 
 
 r 5
 
 106 TREASON AT HOME. 
 
 tion, essayed one more attempt at propitiation 
 by means of a feeble, " Yes, Sir.'' 
 
 Dr. Frintly issued from the shop, shutting the 
 door behind him, with a crash that rattled all the 
 glass stoppers in the bottles.
 
 TREASON AT HOME. 107 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 The next morning, Edith accompanied Walter 
 to the cottage, and waited at the door, while he 
 made his visit above. Mrs. Dingall, a small, 
 blear eyed woman, with an habitually down-cast 
 expression, came forward in obedience to a sign 
 from Edith. 
 
 ^^ Oh, yes, Miss, he's better now, much better, 
 Miss, but he was awful bad the first night. He 
 talked — I don't know whether it was in his sleep or 
 not, he was so queer like, but he talked the whole 
 time about Mr. Goliath, and the river, and Sir 
 Ralph, till I was clean afraid he'd bring Sir 
 Ralph's ghost to hear what it was all about. And, 
 Miss," she added, glancing over her shoulder.
 
 108 TREASON AT HOME. 
 
 '' I'm not sure he didn't, for I heard the shutter 
 move outside the window, I did. Miss, as sure as 
 I'm standing here, and there wasn't a breath of 
 air stirring. Miss, not a single breath. And I 
 heard footsteps, I didn't dare to look out, but 
 I heard footsteps, Miss, and they stopped on the 
 gravel below the window, ever so long a while, and 
 then they went away." 
 
 Edith looked up at the window of the attic. 
 
 ^' But, my good woman, nobody is tall enough 
 to reach the window shutter." 
 
 She had forgotten the supposed supernatural 
 character of the visitant. 
 
 " That's just it. Miss, nobody is tall enough, 
 and it was reached ; so you see that proves it was 
 a ghost." 
 
 Mrs. Dingall's fears, expanding as is usually the 
 case, by expression, were rapidly becoming convic- 
 tions. 
 
 " But you do not really believe in ghosts," 
 said Edith, contemplating her interlocutor with 
 some curiosity.
 
 TREASON AT HOME. 109 
 
 '' Not believe in 'em, Miss ! " repeated the 
 
 worn an,with a look of shocked piety. '' 1 wouldn't 
 
 dare not to believe in em; and as to SirEalph's 
 
 ghost, it isn't the first time he's come." 
 
 " What do you mean?" asked Edith." 
 
 " Well, Miss, nobody speaks of it, for my 
 
 lady was very much displeased when she heard of 
 
 it ; but the night Sir Ralph was drownded, his 
 
 ghost came and told of it with an awful shout ; 
 
 it woke some of the maids. They were so 
 
 frighted, Miss, that they didn't dare to mOve, 
 
 for all that they thought it sounded like Sir 
 
 Ralph's voice. And true enough, the next 
 
 thing they knew, the house was roused, 
 
 and there was Mr. Goliath, his clothes all 
 
 dripping, for he'd been uneasy about his master 
 
 because of the horse he rode, which was so vicious ; 
 
 and he'd been down to look out for him, and had 
 
 seen it all, and been into the river himself, and Sir 
 
 Ralph was drownded. And it's all true. Miss. 
 
 One of the maids is daughter to the woman who 
 
 lives next to me, in that little cottage there, and
 
 110 TREESON AT HOME. 
 
 it was slie that told me ; but she said my lady 
 ordered it to be made known to them, that if any 
 of the household ever spoke of such a story again, 
 they should lose their places; for my lady doesn't 
 believe in ghosts, Miss." 
 
 *^ I don't wonder she was displeased," said 
 Edith, thinking that she herself would greatly 
 resent having a ghost admitted as an imaginary 
 inmate of Arden Court. 
 
 Walter's appearance at the door of the cottage 
 interrupted Mrs. Dingall's relation. With a few 
 kindly words and a gratuity to George's nurse he 
 left the cottage. 
 
 '^ How is he this morning ?" asked Edith, 
 feeling with a certain sensation of relief as she 
 she looked at him, that young Arden' s powerful 
 frame, clear eyes and pleasant smile, disproved 
 the theory of ghosts. 
 
 " He's much better; in a few days he'll be up 
 again. He tells me that Frintly says he has just 
 escaped a rheumatic fever. But what do you 
 think? — it's really curious, — Witchkin's stupid
 
 TREASON AT HOME. - 111 
 
 assistant sent the poor fellow port wine instead 
 of an anodyne, and it produced the same effect 
 as before." 
 
 ^' How very strange. It seems impossible," 
 replied Edith, doubtingly. 
 
 " So I should have said, but Frintly rode over 
 to enquire, and the assistant, careless donkey, 
 owned that he had made the mistake." 
 
 '^ I don't like to have things coincide so," said 
 Edith, after a pause. '^ It does not seem 
 natural." * 
 
 " The chief thing is, after all, that he is better, 
 you know," returned young Arden, ^^ and 
 happy enough at the idea of going away." 
 
 " Yes, please tell me about that," said Edith. 
 
 " It seemed a great relief to him. He has 
 been dogged by ill-luck so long that at first he 
 was scarcely able to believe he was at length 
 to have a fair chance, like any other man. I wish 
 I could get him a place as groom there. I would 
 rather that he had everything clear before him 
 when he sails."
 
 112 TREASON AT HOME. 
 
 '^ But do you know anyone in Canada?" ques- 
 tioned Edith. 
 
 '^ Not a soul. The only way would be to get 
 him a place with some one going out." Walter 
 pondered a while, then exclaimed, 
 
 "I have it. There's Frank Daubenay: his 
 
 regiment is just ordered there. I'll write to him by 
 
 this very mail. It would be a capital berth for 
 
 George. Danbenay is the kindest-hearted fellow 
 
 in existence." 
 
 " I think, Aunt, I shall be able to get George a 
 place as groom, with Daubenay," said Walter, at 
 lunch. " You know a first-rate English groom is 
 not easily found willing to leave England^ and 
 he'll be wanting one there." 
 
 ^^ Is a Daubenay really going out to Canada ?" 
 inquired Mrs. Arden, her eyes looking very large. 
 
 " Yes ; Daubenay 's regiment was ordered off 
 last week." 
 
 " Dear me, how very strange that is," said 
 Mrs. Arden. " And yet it would be awkward to 
 exchange under the circumstances, perhaps,"
 
 TREASON AT HOME. 113 
 
 " What circumstances ?" asked Walter. *' It's 
 not such very hard duty in Canada. Plenty of 
 pretty girls, and balls by the dozen. But why 
 shouldn't he go ?" 
 
 *^ Dear me, didn't you ever hear of it? Why, 
 I thought everybody had heard of it. Such a 
 noise as it made, and everybody taking sides for 
 or against. I never knew what to believe about 
 it. All I was sure of was that it was a dread- 
 ful thing, and that the poor young man was very 
 much to be pitied all the same, whether he were 
 right or wrong, you know." 
 
 '^But I don't know," said Walter; *^ that's 
 precisely what I want you to tell me." 
 
 " Well, then, Frank Daubenay's uncle, Henry 
 Daubenay, was condemned to death in Canada," 
 responded Mrs. Arden, emphatically. 
 
 *^A gentleman! How dreadful!" exclaimed 
 Edith. 
 
 '^ Yes ; wasn't it perfectly shocking ? It quite 
 broke his father's heart — quite. He never held up 
 his head afterwards, but took to his bed and 
 died, poor man."
 
 114 TREASON AT HOME. 
 
 ^^I never heard anything of this," said Walter. 
 *^ How was it ? It is hard on Daubenay." 
 
 " It was all because of some dreadful colonel. 
 He told Daubenay to do something or other, and 
 Daubenay wouldn't, and they quarrelled, and 
 Daubenay drew his sword on him — I'm quite cer- 
 tain about that— and so he was condemned by a 
 court-martial." 
 
 "And was he executed?" asked Edith, in a 
 low voice. 
 
 "No, dear; oh, no. It was very bad, but not 
 quite so bad as that. The day before he was to 
 have been shot, he escaped. I was so glad when 
 the news came. It was his wife who got him oif, 
 so everybody thought, for she disappeared at the 
 same time. He'd been married only a little 
 while to Lady Emily Blackland. She had run 
 away and followed him out to Canada." 
 
 "Why couldn't she marry him here?" asked 
 Edith. 
 
 " Her parents opposed it, for he was a very 
 wild young man, my dear." 
 
 " And what became of them?" inquired Edith,
 
 TREASON AT HOME. 115 
 
 " Nobody knew, my dear, and it was a great 
 deal better they shouldn't, for if he had ever 
 been found again, he would have been shot. 
 People thought they had made their way to the 
 States, poor things.— But come, Edith, you must 
 go and lie down on the sofa; you know Lady 
 Tremyss and Isabel dine here to-day. I do hope 
 Isabel will be quiet and sit still. I'd as lief have 
 a salamander in the room when she's in one of 
 her wild moods ; I had, indeed." ^ 
 
 When Edith entered her room to dress for 
 dinner, she found an evening toilette of white mus- 
 lin and Valenciennes displayed on the bed. 
 
 " Oh, no; please give me a high dress," she 
 said to Nitson, who stood complacently surveying 
 the delicate material and costly trimming. 
 
 Nitson's face fell. 
 
 " Certainly, Miss, if you say so,'' she answered, 
 moving towards the wardrobe. " Only Lady 
 Tremyss keeps very strict to London ways, and 
 she and Miss Hartley are always low-necked in 
 the evening ; and so I thought, Miss, perhaps it
 
 116 TREASON AT HOME. 
 
 would be pleasanter for them if you were low- 
 necked, too. But it's just as you say," she con- 
 cluded, with treacherous submission, opening the 
 wardrobe door. 
 
 Thus presented in the light of a duty, Edith 
 assumed the dress ; but looked with distrust upon 
 the parure of turquoise which Nitson produced. 
 
 "No, Nitson ; really that is too much." 
 
 " If you think so, Miss. Only Miss Hartley 
 always wears ornaments, and I thought it would 
 please Mrs. Arden to see you looking nice." 
 
 Assailed on a second vulnerable point, Edith 
 yielded. 
 
 As Nitson gave the last skilful touches to 
 Edith's showery golden curls, her heart swelled 
 with the majestic pride of the successful lady's 
 maid. 
 
 " There now ! " she soliloquised, looking after 
 Edith, as she left the room, " I wonder who'll 
 say now that Miss Hartley is handsomer than my 
 young lady! Not but what Miss Hartley is 
 beautiful to look at, there's no denying that ; but
 
 TREASON AT HOME. 117 
 
 somehow, she's like running water — it's flash, 
 flash, flash, all the time. But Miss Arden, she's 
 just like the pond on the top of Llangvvir, — you 
 can look down and down into it. How lovely she 
 does look in that muslin and Valenciennes, to he 
 sure. I'll go and tell Mrs. Pomfret to put herself 
 where she'll get a peep at her." 
 
 " Come nearer, my dear," said Mrs. Arden, 
 looking up from her novel, as Edith appeared in 
 the drawing-room. '' I want to look at you. 
 Dear me, how very nice ! " 
 
 She touched caressingly her niece's soft, floating 
 curls. 
 
 " Fm afraid I'm too much dressed," said 
 Edith, a little apprehensively; "but Nitson 
 seemed quite sure." 
 
 Whatever Mrs. Arden ventured to think, she 
 only replied — 
 
 " You look very nice, my dear, very nice, in- 
 deed. I think Adeline Crane, in this book, must 
 have looked very much as you do now ; only I 
 hope the likeness won't go any further, I'm sure,
 
 118 TREASON AT HOME. 
 
 for she had three husbands, all at a time, and yet 
 she seems to have been a nice sort of person, 
 too." 
 
 Mrs. Arden returned to her novel, while Edith 
 retired to a sofa, and worked at some purple and 
 silver crotchet work, until Lady Tremyss and 
 Miss Hartley were announced. At the same 
 instant Walter entered, and almost directly the 
 doors of the dining-room were thrown open ; so 
 that Edith was not able fairly to look at Lady 
 Tremyss and her daughter until they were all 
 seated at the table. 
 
 Under the lamplight their peculiar and strongly 
 contrasted beauty assumed new vividness. Lady 
 Tremyss' purely cut features, her length of sable 
 hair, braided and wound around the back of her 
 head, displaying its severely classic outline, her 
 colourless complexion, the exquisite modelling of 
 her neck and arms, relieved against her dress of 
 black lustreless silk, gave her the appearance of 
 some priestess on an Etruscan vase ; while her in- 
 tent look, even when listening and replying to the
 
 TREASON AT HOME. 119 
 
 veriest trifles, the unslumbering expression of her 
 eye, comrauDicated something incomprehensible 
 to her presence. Edith felt she stood before 
 that which was entirely out of the scope of her 
 perceptions. — What was Lady Tremyss' ruling 
 motive, — she began to ask herself. — By what 
 tie was she bound to life? — She was still ponder- 
 ing, when Isabel spoke to her mother. As Lady 
 Tremyss turned her eyes upon her daughter, they 
 softened momentarily, then became cold and in- 
 scrutable as before. One look, and yet it w5,s 
 enough. Edith felt that she had solved the 
 mystery. That instant had illumined to her 
 view the sealed recesses of Lady Tremyss' 
 heart. 
 
 " Nor is it strange," she thought, directing 
 her attention to Isabel, who with heightened 
 colour and brilliant eyes, was dilating to Walter 
 upon the qualities of some music by a new com- 
 poser. 
 
 Isabel was, as Nitson had predicted, in full 
 dinner costume. Her white dress and sash were em-
 
 120 TREASON AT HOME. 
 
 broidered with small crimson flowers, a spray of 
 fuchsia was placed among the waving masses of her 
 brown hair, and about her slender throat was 
 twisted a glittering snake of black enamel and gold. 
 Her fingers were loaded with rings, which shed a 
 shower of sparks with every motion of her hands. 
 There was a provoking grace, an elf-like spor- 
 tiveness, a flush and glow of unquiet life about 
 her, that made her all but intoxicating to look 
 upon. You were pleased, you were vexed, you 
 were delighted, you were piqued, all at once, and 
 you could not tell why. 
 
 " Does Walter feel it? He must;" thought 
 Edith, glancing shyly at her cousin. 
 
 A. brighter flush rose on her cheek, a faint 
 smile deepened the corners of her mouth, as she 
 dropped her eyes. 
 
 Walter was listening with an air more absent 
 than interested ; his eyebrows were imperceptibly 
 raised, his lips were pressed a trifle closely toge- 
 ther. In fact, Isabel was rather boring him. 
 She had talked to him so many times before,
 
 TREASON AT HOME. 121 
 
 just as she was talking then ; and he was used, 
 of late, to something so much better. 
 
 In spite of her beauty, Isabel was not at- 
 tractive to Walter. The superficial character of 
 her mind, the trivial nature of her interests, the 
 restless changefulness of her moods, had never 
 been displeasing to young Arden ; but since he 
 had known Edith, Isabel's gay prattle had become 
 distasteful to his ear, her sparkling beauty 
 wearied his eye. Something of this Edith felt as 
 she sat there . • 
 
 — " Walter does not care for Isabel." — She had 
 not j^et turned the next page. She had not yet 
 learned to think, — ^^ Walter does care for me." — 
 
 Then came the thought — "I hope Isabel does 
 not care for him." — 
 
 She turned to her. Isabel's rapid flow of talk 
 had ceased for an instant. 
 
 '' Let me thank you for all the pleasure you 
 have given me," said Edith. ^' You do not know 
 how I have enjoyed these rides. I shall send 
 
 VOL. I. G
 
 122 TREASON AT HOME. 
 
 Moira back to-morrow ; the pony must be well 
 by this time." 
 
 Isabel laughed. 
 
 " You can't be sure." And, turning to young 
 Arden, she asked archly, " Walter, is the pony 
 
 well ?" 
 
 ^* I don't know that it is," returned Walter, 
 conscious of not having once enquired about the 
 pony's health since the arrival of Moira. 
 
 "You couldn't be so cruel as to ride the 
 poor little thing just after it had got a sprain, 
 could you ?" pursued Isabel. 
 
 ^^ Not if it would hurt it, certainly ; but, really, 
 I can't keep Moira any longer. I will write to 
 Papa to send me a very gentle horse." 
 
 '' But do you know what those very gentle 
 horses are capable of? I'll tell you. Didn't 
 young Ben Rollston put his sister on one last 
 summer, and didn't she come home all in little 
 bits? And wasn't it a very gentle horse, a perfect 
 lamb, that broke Kate Tynedale's collar-bone 
 last May, and dragged her through a thickset
 
 TREASON AT HOME. 123 
 
 hedge, and scratched her face all over? And 
 didn't Harry Fitzover have his two front teeth 
 kicked out by the horse his grandfather gave him, 
 warranted gentle and free from tricks? I can 
 assure you that you had better keep Moira, and if 
 ever I want her I'll send down a groom for 
 her. There'll be no use in returning her, for Til 
 send her back if you do. Your rides, or some- 
 thing, have done you ever so much good already. 
 You look so much better, — doesn't she ?" said 
 Isabel, appealing to Walter. 
 
 Walter agreed that she did, and the conversa- 
 tion became general. 
 
 Isabel chatted quietly for awhile with Edith 
 when they returned to the drawing-room, but 
 soon she began to grow restless. She tangled 
 the purple silk with which Edith was crocheting, 
 she turned over the pages of the illustrated 
 volumes on the table by which they were seated, 
 she unsnapped and snapped her bracelets ; in 
 short, Isabel fidgeted. 
 
 " I wish Mrs. Arden wasn't talking to Mam- 
 
 G 2
 
 124 TREASON AT HOME. 
 
 ma," she said, finally, looking at them regret- 
 fully. 
 
 " Why ?" asked Edith. 
 
 "Oh, then I would make her tell me stories ; 
 she knows ever so many horrid ones. I make 
 her tell them whenever I spend the evening here. 
 Did you never hear them ?" 
 
 "No." 
 
 " What a pity," ejaculated Isabel, '^ I suppose 
 we can't make her tell them now." She paused and 
 reflected, then with sudden animation resumed, — 
 " I kDOw what we can do, we can make her give 
 us the key of her private bookcase — she always 
 keeps it locked, and we'll go upstairs and get 
 some books and read the stories for ourselves, 
 though it won't be half so good as if we, while 
 she tells them, had her eyes to look at— I am sure 
 she really believes them all.'* 
 
 Isabel approached Mrs. Arden with her request. 
 
 " Oh, yes, to be sure," replied that lady, ap- 
 parently not sorry to have Isabel safely out of 
 the room, for the clicking of the bracelets had
 
 TREASON AT HOME. 125 
 
 been jarring her nerves. ^' There they are, my 
 dear," and she produced from her pocket two 
 small keys tied together. " Only please be sure 
 to put back the books exactly in their places. 
 Those you want are on the third and fourth 
 shelves ; and don't forget to bring me back the 
 keys. " 
 
 '^ Come," said Isabel in a low voice, returning 
 to Edith's side, and holding up the keys. " We*il 
 find something funny, you may be sure. I do so 
 like to explore old ladies' crannies, don't you ?" 
 
 '' 1 never tried," said Edith, as they crossed the 
 hall and ascended the staircase. 
 
 " It's great fun. I got Lady Chatterton to 
 lend me her keys once, and you've no idea what 
 things I found ; and Mrs. Hammerthwaite — why 
 her house is a perfect curiosity shop, for all it 
 looks so precise and formal — I must tell you all 
 about it some day, and how I got lost in it, and 
 frightened one of the maids into hysterics. But 
 here we are."
 
 126 TREASON AT HOME. 
 
 So saying, she applied the key to the bookcase 
 in Mrs. Arden's sleeping-room. 
 
 "No; don't look at that, it's nothing," she 
 continued, as Edith raised her hand to a crimson 
 volume entitled " Sights and Sounds in the Cata- 
 combs," " nothing worth reading; but just look 
 over this ;" and she took down a small, well-worn 
 book. "It's JSTorwyn's Diary. You wouldn't think 
 it anything from the name, but when you've 
 once begun it you can't stop. I got hold of it 
 one day, and I begged Mrs. Arden to let me take 
 it home with me, and I walked my horse and 
 read all the way. The Bishop and some other 
 people were coming to dinner, and I was not 
 dressed in time, and I did not know what to say, 
 for I only came down as they were going in. I 
 thought the best thing was to tell the Bishop 
 how it happened, and he said he didn't wonder at 
 all, for that once when he was first in orders he 
 began to read it before church, and it made him 
 half an hour late for morning service."
 
 TREASON AT HOME. 127 
 
 Here Isabel, seeing Edith, who had begun 
 to read, seat herself on the projecting ledge of 
 the bookcase, with the volume in one hand and 
 the candle in the other, began to explore the 
 shelves in search of a book for herself. Ap- 
 parently she found nothing to her taste, for she 
 presently unlocked the door of the cupboard 
 beneath and drew forth one volume after another. 
 She was soon absorbed in the contents of a large 
 book, bound in that purple and white marbled 
 paper of which the French are so fond. She rose 
 to her knees, holding it up to catch the light of 
 the candle, and studied it intently for a while ; 
 then laying it down, a mischievous sparkle glitter- 
 ing in her eyes, remained plunged in thought. 
 At length she replaced the books and locked the 
 cupboard door. 
 
 '^ Come, don't }^ou think we had better go 
 down ?" she said. ^' I think tea must be brought 
 in by this time." 
 
 Edith mechanically descended from her post, 
 still wrapt in the pages.
 
 128 TREASON AT HOME. 
 
 ^' Isn't it interesting ?" asked Isabel. " But the 
 first part is nothing to the middle and the end.'* 
 " Yes," replied Edith absently, following 
 Isabel downstairs in silence. As soon as they 
 entered the drawing-room she sat down in a 
 corner by a lamp, and went on with the narrative. 
 Isabel took her place near Mrs. Arden, behind 
 a small japanned stand. She spread out her 
 fingers upon it, and seemed to be at once study- 
 ing her rings and listening to what Mrs. Arden 
 was saying. 
 
 ^' I'm sure it's very kind in you to take any 
 interest in the man, though he is in a pitiable 
 state, very; but Walter is going to send him 
 out of the country as soon as he can, to Canada 
 with young Daubenay, and then no one will ever 
 hear of him again, you know." 
 
 The stand behind which Isabel was sitting, here 
 gave a slight lurch forward. 
 
 ' ' Oh, the table— what's the matter with it ? " 
 exclaimed Isabel, but without removing her 
 hands.
 
 TREASON AT HOME. 129 
 
 "What is it, my dear?" asked Mrs. Arden, 
 turning her eyes towards Isabel. 
 
 '^ Oh ! look, there it goes again," responded 
 Isabel, as the table made a still more decided 
 movement. 
 
 Mrs. Arden fell back in her chair. Lady 
 Tremyss sat quietly observant. 
 
 'MVhat is it?" repeated Isabel, as the table 
 rocked backward and forward beneath her 
 fingers. 
 
 Mrs. Arden raised her hand as if imploring 
 silence whilst she collected her faculties of speech. 
 At length, "There's a spirit in the room,"* she 
 said, in a tremulous whisper. 
 
 The motion of the table immediately ceased. 
 
 "There, do you see that?" she continued, 
 drawing still further into the recesses of hei 
 easy-chair. " It heard me." 
 
 "What are we to do?" inquired Isabel, 
 anxiously. " It won't hurt us, will it ? " 
 
 "I hope not; I'm sure I hope not," replied 
 
 a 6
 
 130 TREASON AT HOME. 
 
 Mrs. Arden, nervously ; *' but we must be very 
 careful." 
 
 The table lurched forward. 
 
 '^ There it goes again ! " ejaculated Isabel. 
 " I'd rather not stay. I think I'll go home." 
 
 ** No ! no ! " exclaimed Mrs. Arden, af- 
 frightedly ; '^ don't think of it ; don't take your 
 bands away. I don't know what would happen 
 if you did. Don't you see what it is ? " 
 
 " No," answered Isabel. ^^ I don't see any- 
 thing at all — I only feel the table jump." 
 
 The table nearly tipped itself over. 
 
 ^* It's the spirit getting impatient," responded 
 Mrs. Arden in an awe-struck whisper. 
 
 ^' What does it want?" asked Isabel. 
 
 *^ It wants to tell something. First, we must 
 ask who it is. That's the way they begin." 
 
 " Then you must ask," Isabel answered. " I 
 don't want to." 
 
 "Who are you?" inquired Mrs. Arden, in a 
 trembling voice, staring at the chandelier. 
 
 There was no reply.
 
 TREASON AT HOME, 131 
 
 " Oh, I must say the letters— I quite forgot,'* 
 said Mrs. Arden, hurriedly ; and she began to 
 repeat the alphabet. At Y the table moved. 
 
 ''It's Y," she said tremulously, " Y." 
 
 A second trial gave the letter E. 
 
 "YE, Ye. It's speaking to us all," said 
 Mrs. Arden, apparently much relieved. But the 
 succeeding letters decidedly impaired the con- 
 solatory effect of the first. Q U E N E came, 
 much perplexing her mind. 
 
 '^sn't it old English?" asked Isabel. "Perbaps 
 it means the Queen." 
 
 " Oh, gracious, you don't say so!" exclaimed 
 Mrs. Arden, wildly. " What shall we do ? 
 Shall we go down on our knees ?" 
 
 '^ I think we had better see if we can find out 
 what queen it is," replied Isabel, in a somewhat 
 unsteady tone, which Mrs. Arden took as an 
 indication that even her nerves were not proof 
 against the majestic presence of the unseen 
 visitor. 
 
 ELIZABETH came, letter by letter, to
 
 132 TREASON AT HOME, 
 
 increase Mrs. Arden's consternation. But the 
 table left her no time for comment or reflection. 
 MEECURY AND SATURN 
 MENACE CONJUNCTION LET 
 THOSE WHOM IT CONCERNETH 
 BEWARE, was the message delivered by 
 the supernatural visitant of the drawing-room. 
 Then the table resumed its pristine tranquillity, 
 and remained obstinately impervious to all Mrs. 
 Arden's entreaties that it would graciously deign 
 to explain its utterance. 
 
 '^ Well, I think no one now need attempt to 
 deny the existence of spirits," said Mrs. Arden, 
 after a pause. "To think of it!— merely to 
 think of it ! And everything looks quite the 
 same as it did before," she continued, casting her 
 eyes around the room. " It seems impossible be- 
 fore any one has seen it, and yet perfectly natural 
 after it has happened, — don't you think so ?" she 
 added, addressing Isabel. 
 
 '^ Yes, I do," Isabel responded; and, rising 
 abruptly, she seated herself near Edith, and,
 
 TREASON AT HOME. 133 
 
 turning her back to the rest of the room, seemed 
 shaken by an internal agony. This Pythoness- 
 like convulsion passed unnoticed by her hostess, 
 whose mind had returned to the contemplation of 
 the ominous warning conveyed by the table. 
 
 '^ ' Mercury and Saturn menace conjunction.' 
 That means, according to Destrouyn's Manual, 
 craft and power when they are alone ; and when 
 Mercury approaches Saturn, craft changes to 
 treachery, and power becomes— what's the word? 
 — maleficent, he says, and betokens the approach 
 of an enemy, ' Let those whom it concerneth 
 beware.' It must have meant some of us, or else 
 it wouldn't have come here. Isabel was the near- 
 est person. I hope it did not mean her," she said, 
 turning to Lady Tremyss, who had sat an im- 
 passive spectator. 
 
 " I do not fear anything for Isabel," replied 
 Lady Tremyss, in her calm voice. 
 
 The tea-tray here appeared, interrupting Mrs. 
 Arden's remarks ; and directly afterwards Walter 
 came in.
 
 134 TREASON AT HOME. 
 
 No further mention was made of the spiritual 
 experience which had taken place, unnoticed by 
 Edith, who was still immersed in Norwyn's 
 Diary, and unseen by Walter, who had been 
 mentally comparing Edith and Isabel to the ac- 
 companiment of sips of sherry in the dining- 
 room ; for Mrs. Arden, great as was her desire to 
 display this last conclusive proof, yet was with- 
 held fiom so doing by the fear lest her recital 
 should be received by Walter with an imprudent 
 incredulity, which might bring back Queen 
 Elizabeth, in all the grandeur of outraged and 
 invisible dignity, to avenge herself by some one 
 of those sudden outbreaks of rage, with which 
 contemporaneous historians have made us familiar. 
 — " If it had only been any spirit but Queen 
 Elizabeth, I shouldn't feel so afraid,'* mentally 
 soliloquised Mrs. Arden ; " but she was a terrible 
 woman, and there's no knowing what she might 
 do if she got angry; perhaps she might hale us 
 all about by the hair of our heads, as she did 
 that poor lady who wanted to get married. I
 
 TREASON AT HOME. 136 
 
 think I'd better not say anything about it, not 
 even to Edith. Perhaps the next one will be 
 Lady Jane Gray, and she wouldn't hurt anybody. 
 Yes ; I'll wait. But what could it have meant?" 
 When Lady Tremyss and Isabel had driven 
 away, and Edith and Walter had retired to their 
 respective apartments, Mrs. Arden unlocked the 
 cupboard of her private bookcase, and drawing 
 thence various volumes, studied their contents 
 till one o'clock ; though, judging from the ex- 
 pression of her countenance, she appeared in »o 
 wise enlightened when she ended. 
 
 A little note from Isabel, inviting Edith and 
 Walter to take a drive with her mother and her- 
 self that afternoon, was brought to the Hall early 
 the next morning ; and punctual to the hour 
 mentioned Isabel and Lady Tremyss appeared. 
 
 ^* Doesn't Mamma look like a beauty in that 
 hat ?" said Isabel to Edith. ^' She wears it on 
 purpose to please me. I pulled all the feathers
 
 J 36 TREASON AT HOME. 
 
 out as soon as it came down, and made Melvil 
 put them in au other way. Isn't it becoming?" 
 
 Becoming it certainly was, Edith thought, as 
 
 Lady Tremyss stood in the hall, a wide black 
 
 scarf draping her, the heavy plumes of her small 
 
 black hat casting their shadow over her pale 
 
 face. 
 
 " It looks like rain," said Isabel, descend- 
 ing the steps side by side with Edith. '* Oh, 
 if you want to see Mamma look her handsomest 
 you should see her in a thunderstorm. Her eyes 
 shoot out lightning, and — " 
 
 '' Isabel," said Lady Tremyss' quiet tones from 
 the carriage, " are you not keeping Miss Arden 
 waiting ?" 
 
 Isabel hurried forward. 
 
 ^'Tell him to take the Durston Koad," she said 
 to the footman, while Walter handed her into the 
 carriage ; " and tell him to drive fast." 
 
 '^ I'm sure we're going to have a shower," she 
 repeated, taking her place opposite Edith. 
 
 '' It's a pity," Edith replied.
 
 TREASON AT HOME. 137 
 
 " No it isn't, not a bit," responded Isabel, 
 shaking her pretty head. 
 
 " Not in an open carriage?" queried Walter, 
 "with a glance at Edith's white muslin dress. 
 
 '' Oh no, it won't hurt any of us, you'll see," 
 rejoined Isabel. 
 
 Her eyes were dancing, she looked brimming 
 over with suppressed merriment, and chattered 
 like a mocking-bird as they drove forward, keep- 
 ing the while an observant eye on all around. 
 She detailed to them with infinitely comic fidelity 
 of imitation, her experiment of the night be- 
 fore, and convulsed Walter and Edith with her 
 rendering of Mrs. Arden's expression of counten- 
 ance before the regal visitor from outre vie. At 
 length a large white tent appeared in sight. 
 Isabel pulled the check rein. The footman 
 descended. 
 
 " Tell Jarvis to drive to that tent," she said 
 peremptorily. The footman resumed his seat, and 
 the carriage drove on. 
 
 " My dear," said Lady Tremyss, who had not
 
 138 TREASON AT HOME. 
 
 iDefore spoken, " you cannot know what that tent 
 is." 
 
 " Yes, I do," replied Isabel. " It's wild 
 beasts, and I've brought you and Walter expressly 
 to make it respectable, and I must go. I must, 
 really and truly. I shall die if I don't. I dream 
 about lions and tigers every night, because I 
 haven't seen any, and now here they are, and 
 they've come on purpose to be looked at." 
 
 " But nobody goes," Lady Tremyss objected. 
 
 ^^ But we're not nobodies, we're somebodies; 
 so what nobody does doesn't concern us," 
 responded Isabel. " And what's the harm in 
 going? Only because other people don't go. 
 But I don't want to see other people there, I 
 want to see the animals, and I've set my heart 
 on it, and you'll let me, now won't you, you 
 darling ? You couldn't say no to me if you tried, 
 you know you couldn't. May I go?" And 
 Isabel looked smilingly in her mother's face. 
 
 A sharp contraction, as of pain, one instant 
 furrowed Lady Tremyss' smooth forehead, then
 
 TREASON AT HOME. 139 
 
 leaning back she made a mute sign of assent 
 Isabel clapped her hands. 
 
 *^ I knew you would. Ah, here we are ! How 
 slow Gilbert is," she said, impatiently. 
 
 At that moment a low, deep growling was 
 heard from the tent. Edith drew back involun- 
 tarily. Glancing at Lady Tremyss, she saw a 
 sudden gleam escape from her eyes. She had no 
 time to watch her further, for just then the tardy 
 Gilbert threw open the carriage door. 
 
 " We had better take our cloaks with us," said 
 Lady Tremyss, standing up in the carriage, 
 and casting a glance at the black clouds that were 
 slowly rising from the west ; '^ it may rain. — No 
 thank you, I will keep it," she added, as Walter 
 offered to relieve her of the heavy covering. 
 " You can carry Miss Arden's and Isabel's." 
 They entered the caravan. 
 *' We will take our seats at once," said Lady 
 Tremyss. '^ The performances have begun. We 
 can walk round and let Isabel look at the animals 
 afterwards."
 
 140 TREASON AT HOME. 
 
 Leading the way to a vacant bench, she placed 
 Edith by her side in the front row of the circle, 
 while Isabel and Walter took their places directly 
 behind. 
 
 As Edith gazed around, a very disagreeable 
 sensation crept over her. She felt as though 
 oppressed with nightmare. Her senses were 
 assailed on every side by strange and bewildering 
 sounds, sights, and odours. Above the heads of 
 the circle of spectators she saw massive bars, 
 behind which moved with restless, incessant 
 motion, those monsters which had haunted her 
 childish dreams. Their bright, fierce eyes glared 
 at her ; she beheld again the sharp white teeth 
 which had so often in those terrified visions been 
 ready to close upon her; the strong and pene- 
 trating odour acted peculiarly upon her nerves* 
 producing in itself a sinking apprehensiveness. 
 The low growlings, interspersed from time to 
 time with angry snarls and plaintive, half-human 
 cries, made a demoniacal concert. 
 
 Edith struggled against her nervousness; she
 
 TREASON AT HOME. 141 
 
 felt herself humiliated by her fears. Her will 
 chafed against the thick coining fancies which 
 assailed her imagination. She sought to turn 
 aside her attention. She looked at the circling 
 ranks of wondering and delighted rustic faces 
 before her; she heard their shouts of laughter, 
 while the keepers displayed the tricks of their 
 trained dogs and ponies; she beheld the little 
 deformed dwarfs, the monkeys, playing their 
 grotesque antics, with almost human mockery, 
 and closed her eyes in disgust, soon compelled by 
 the fascination of fear again to open them again 
 and turn them upon the ever-moving objects of 
 her dread. - 
 
 '' Oh, look," said Isabel, in an excited whisper, 
 '' here comes the great elephant. I like him 
 best of all." 
 
 As it advanced, the aspect of its sagacious, 
 benevolent eye, the massive repose of its figure, 
 scarcely disturbed by its slow, swaying tread, its 
 friendly glance, when it received from the hands of 
 the crowd its customary dainties, its look of
 
 142 TREASON AT HOME. 
 
 patient, intelligent strength, communicated a 
 moment's relief to Edith's fevered nerves. But 
 her pleasure was of short duration. A faint 
 flash of lightning glanced through the open 
 roof, followed by a long, low, muttered roll of 
 thunder. The animals moved more quickly up 
 and down; they uttered discordant cries. The 
 keepers looked around uneasily, then, glancing 
 at the spectators, they whispered to each other. 
 There was a pause in the performance. The 
 crowd began to give signs of impatience. The 
 sounds appeared to decide the keepers. They 
 withdrew to the back of the caravan. " The 
 great American panther, the only one ever tamed," 
 Edith heard whispered around her, and every 
 eye was turned to the open space in the circle. 
 
 Edith dared not ask any question. Surely 
 they were not going to bring the animal there ! 
 
 A murmur rose from the outskirts of the 
 crowd of spectators; she looked, and saw a 
 keeper enter, leading a panther by a leash. Its 
 dark, sullen head held low, its sinister eyes
 
 TREASON AT HOME. 143 
 
 glaring sideways on the audience, its tail swaying 
 heavily, it was led along with slow, reluctant 
 motion, to the centre of the ring. Suppressed 
 exclamations of surprise and delight broke from 
 the spectators as the animal, in unwilling obedi- 
 ence to the orders of the keeper, leaped through 
 his arms, laid its paws on his shoulders, rolled 
 over like a cat, and went through the round of its 
 performances ; but at every fresh command there 
 was a pause before it obeyed, and those nearest 
 could see that the keeper's eye watched ob- 
 servantly its every motion, while the elephant 
 held itself aloof, eyeing it with an oblique, dis- 
 trustful glance. 
 
 At length the exhibition of its accomplishments 
 was over, and the keeper proceeded to lead it 
 around the circle before it made its exit. He had 
 taken but a few steps when a vivid flash of 
 lightning, followed instantly by a loud crash of 
 thunder, broke over the tent. The animal stopped 
 short, cowered, and uttered a short cry. The 
 keeper shook it by the leash and menaced it with
 
 144 TREASON AT HOME. 
 
 his iron-handled whip. It snarled and proceeded. 
 Its tail moved rapidly, lashing its flanks ; its eyes 
 glowed like burning emeralds. Edith's eyes 
 followed its every step. Her fixed gaze seemed to 
 draw towards her the creature's attention. As it 
 reached the opposite side of the circle, it turned 
 its head, and glanced around. Its look rested 
 upon her white, shrinking figure. Again it 
 stopped, it stretched out its neck, and gazed 
 iramoveably upon her. Again the keeper shook 
 the leash, then with an affrighted shout, smote it 
 with the iron handle. It crouched, rose in the 
 air, and sprang full towards Edith. 
 
 A heavy mantle met the animal in its bound, 
 enveloping the upper part of its body, blinding 
 it; Lady Tremyss cast herself on the ground 
 beside it, in the desperate endeavour to retain 
 the folds about its head, whilst the panther, 
 rolling over on its back, tore furiously at the 
 mantle with its claws. 
 
 There was a moment of unutterable confusion, 
 shrieks, cries, oaths, crashes, a trumpet-like
 
 TREASON AT HOME. 145 
 
 roaij a ponderous rush, a piercing yell, and the 
 panther lay writhing on two long white tusks, 
 pinned to the ground by the elephant, which, 
 with upcurled trunk, and tail erect, stood motion- 
 less, watching, with keen, expanded eye, the 
 dying struggles of its foe. 
 
 One universal uproar rose from the cages around. 
 The bars rattled as the excited animals within 
 strove to break free. The terrified crowd pressed 
 tumultuously towards the exit. 
 
 *' This way. Madam, this way. You'll get 
 soonest to the air this way." 
 
 The keepers opened a small door which 
 led to a vacant enclosure without the tent. 
 Walter carried out Edith, insensible. Two or 
 three women attached • to the caravan, came 
 hurrying to her aid. As they bent over her with 
 restoratives caught up in haste, Walter raised his 
 eyes from her death-like countenance. He 
 remembered the terrible face that had flashed 
 before him with blazing eyes, and lips drawn 
 back. He looked at Lady Tremyss. She was 
 
 VOL. 1. H
 
 146 TREASON AT HOME. 
 
 pacing up and down with rapid steps, her chest 
 heaving, her nostrils dilated, impatient fire in 
 her look. 
 
 Leaving Edith, Isabel sprang towards her. 
 
 ^* Mamma, Mamma, yon are hurt; that's blood." 
 
 Snatching away the broad scarf that Lady 
 Tremyss held closely about her, she showed her 
 side, torn by the panther's claws. 
 
 ^^ Don't stop me, let me breathe," said Lady 
 Tremyss, throwing back the upper part of her 
 fio:ure with a gesture of wild strength. And she 
 continued to pace up and down, like the creatures 
 within. 
 
 " She's come to," exclaimed one of the women, 
 joyfully. " Thank Heaven ! pretty dear.'' 
 
 '^ Lady Tremyss," said Edith, half inarticulately, 
 as her senses returned. ^' T want Lady Tremyss." 
 
 Isabel dragged her mother towards he]'. 
 
 Edith rose staggering to her feet, and extend- 
 ing her arms, sought to throw herself on Lady 
 Tremyss' neck. Lady Tremyss seized her wrists, 
 and held her back.
 
 TREASON AT HOME. 147 
 
 ^' You have saved a life," said young Arden, 
 hoarsely. 
 
 She answered nothing, but turned away. 
 
 Repulsing every offer of assistance, she entered 
 the carriage. The horses sprang rapidly forward 
 to escape the impending storm. Lady Tremyss 
 did not speak, till in her usual quiet tone she 
 bade Edith good afternoon, as Walter lifted her 
 out at the Hall, with courteous hopes that her 
 alarm might have no bad consequences. 
 
 H 2
 
 148 TREESON AT HOME. 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 Three weeks had passed, during the course of 
 which Mr. John Arden, Sir Joseph Slingsby, 
 M.D., and Brenton, had made their appearance 
 and disappearance at the Hall, and still Edith 
 was confined to her room. 
 
 The palpitations which had followed her frigh t 
 had been long and severe, leaving her in a state 
 of great prostration. Her father, summoned in 
 haste, had arrived the next day, bringing with 
 him the great London physician and Edith's 
 maid. 
 
 The latter Edith, in an exhausted whisper , 
 positively refused to see ; and Brenton was 
 accordingly despatched to Arden Court by the
 
 TREASON AT HOME. 149 
 
 retuiD train. Sir Joseph, after assuring Mr. Arden 
 that the case presented no alarming symptoms, 
 sent oif, in his turn, for the physician of the shire 
 town, Dr. Jacobs, into whose hands he com- 
 mitted Edith, declaring to her father that she 
 was under as good care as was to be found in 
 England. He then took his leave, crossing, on 
 his way back, three separate telegrams sent to 
 summon him to three devout and titled believers, 
 who would have considered it little short of self- 
 immolation to commit their bodies to any other 
 skill. 
 
 Mr. John Arden made a longer stay, remaining 
 for the period of ten days, at the end of which 
 Dr. Jacobs politely dismissed him. 
 
 Like most men, Mr. John Arden was endowed 
 with an opaque want of comprehension as to 
 what was desirable in a sick room. He would 
 sit by his daughter's bedside, turning over the 
 morning papers in search of something to interest 
 h er, when every rattling of the sheets was like 
 a blow upon her temples. He closed the
 
 150 TREASON AT HOME. 
 
 door whenever he came in or went out of her 
 chamber, with the extremest caution until it was 
 in its place; then suddenly relaxing his hold, 
 sent off the lock like a pistol. He woke her up 
 with enquiries whether she were not hungry, and 
 kept her awake with regrets that he had disturbed 
 her ; in short, with the best intentions in the 
 world, Mr. John Arden acted as if instigated by 
 the worst, * and the result of his assiduous 
 attendance told so palpably upon his daughter's 
 state, that her physician, as we have said, was at 
 length forced to advise his return to Arden 
 Court. 
 
 His absence did not produce all the good 
 results that Dr. Jacobs had anticipated. Edith's 
 restlessness diminished, it is true, but her depres- 
 sion increased. Three weeks after he had been 
 first summoned, the physician sat at the foot of 
 her bed, surveying her with a puzzled aspect. 
 
 Dr. Jacobs was a man of about sixty, 
 with a broad forehead, and snow-white hair. 
 The lynx-eyed penetration that would have
 
 TREASON AT HOME. 151 
 
 been alarming in any other, in him was tempered 
 with such gentleness, such kindliness and charity, 
 that it lost all that was formidable, and served 
 but to give confidence in his ability. 
 
 As Dr. Jacobs sat with his eyes fixed upon 
 Edith's face, watching the weary gaze she had 
 fastened on the opposite wall, he heard a low 
 sigh break from her — a peculiar quivermg sigh. 
 
 A sudden gleam of comprehension shot across 
 his face. He turned to Mrs. Arden and said, 
 " How old is she ?" 
 
 ^'Nearly seventeen," and Edith's aunt sighed as 
 though a world of woe were comprised in* the 
 communication. 
 
 '^ Indeed ! I had thought her much younger." 
 
 Dr. Jacobs studied Edith's face again. "While he 
 looked, the hall door was unclosed, and the sound 
 of young Arden's voice came through the open 
 window. 
 
 A faint flush rose on the wan cheek. 
 
 Dr. Jacobs pressed his lips together and looked 
 down on the carpet, then rose and walked about
 
 152 TREASON AT HOME. 
 
 the chamber a little while. Stopping before 
 Mrs. Arden, who by dint of anxiety had grown 
 to look as grim as a Gothic Saint, he said, cheer- 
 fully, "■ I think. Madam, that we must change 
 our treatment a little." 
 
 Mrs, Arden looked up eagerly. Could it be ! 
 Was Dr. Jacobs really going to try the 
 Panacea ? 
 
 Vain hope ; — his next words destroyed it. 
 
 " Yes. We have tried entire rest and seclu- 
 sion long cLcng 1 . Now, if Miss Arden ap- 
 proves, we will have a little more variety and 
 amusement. I think she needs toning. We 
 must have some open air, and a little conversa- 
 tion." 
 
 Edith had turned her head, and was watching 
 him intently. — Was she really going to see 
 Walter again? and how soon? — She listened 
 eagerly. 
 
 " We will begin cautiously. I think, perhaps, 
 it would be better that she should be dressed, 
 and taken into the next room. She might see,
 
 TREASON AT HOME. 153 
 
 for instance, Mr. Arden for a few moments to- 
 day, Miss Hartley a day or two later. But Miss 
 Hartley is more of a stranger. We had better 
 keep principally to the persons she is most ac- 
 customed to, for the present." 
 He approached the bed. 
 " Do you think you could try it, my dear ?" 
 After the first fortnight, he had always ad- 
 dressed Edith as " my dear.'' 
 
 She looked up and smiled. There was some- 
 thing in the smile that went to Dr. Jacebs' 
 heart. 
 
 " I hope nothing will cross her," he said to 
 himself as he went down stairs. " It might be 
 one of those cases." 
 
 By one of '^ those cases," Dr. Jacobs was in the 
 habit of mentally designating what is termed in the 
 Vulgate, "a broken heart." He always spoke of 
 such instances as "cases of consumption." 
 
 During every waking moment of those long 
 three weeks, Edith had longed for Walter's 
 
 presence. 
 
 H 5
 
 154 TREASON AT HOME. 
 
 She craved the repose of contact with his 
 strength, his cheerfulDess, the exhilaration of his 
 gaiety. His companionship had grown to be more 
 than a luxmy — it had become a necessity. Of all 
 this Edith was aware, yet she had never gathered 
 up together her various wants and needs and de- 
 sires, and looked upon them and called them by 
 their name. For a moment she had been bewil- 
 dered by their newness, then she had decided that 
 they were gratitude. It was gratitude that she 
 felt. She was grateful to him, oh, so grateful ! 
 
 And now it was gratitude that brought the 
 light to her eye, the colour to her cheek, as when 
 she was established on the couch in the next 
 room, Walter was admitted and came to her side 
 and took her outstretched hand. He was there. 
 She had all she wanted. 
 
 " How merry they do sound," said Xitson to 
 herself, raising her eyes from her work, while 
 Walters gay voice and Edith's low laugh came 
 through the open door. '' I should have thought 
 if a young gentleman hadn't seen a young lady
 
 TREASON AT HOME. 155 
 
 since she had been all but eaten up by a wild 
 beast before his very eyes, that he'd feel, and she 
 too, a little more solemn. But it isn't every one 
 that has the same feelings." 
 
 And Nitson, a tall, pale, blue eyed woman, 
 sighed. 
 
 Wanting in sentiment, although, according to 
 Nitson's opinion, the interview had been, it never- 
 theless seemed to do her young mistress infinite 
 good. Dr. Jacobs' nodded approvingly at her 
 the next morning, and tola her he saw that*she 
 meant to dismiss him as soon as possible. He 
 moreover informed her that he had the day before 
 received a note from Miss Hartley, imploring to 
 be allowed to see her, and that he had consented 
 that she should come for half an hour. 
 
 When he took his leave, Mrs. Arden followed 
 him oat, looking much disturbed. She fidgeted 
 a little as a prelude, then ventured an inquiry. 
 
 " Of course you know best, I'm quite sure you 
 do, of course— but Miss Hartley is so lively, you 
 know — she is never still. If I were ill I would
 
 156 TREASON AT HOME. 
 
 as lief have six kittens in the room all at once, I 
 had really." 
 
 " Miss Hartley has more sense and feeling than 
 she shows," responded Dr. Jacobs. ^' You will 
 see, unless I am much mistaken." 
 
 Mrs. Arden, not daring to press the point 
 further, returned to Edith's room, there to await 
 the threatened visit. 
 
 '^ How kind in Isabel to have come every day ! 
 I am glad that I am to see her. And you are sure 
 that Lady Tremyss is quite well ?" 
 
 " Oh, yes, my dear, quite well, quite well," 
 Mrs. Arden hurriedly replied, and knitted with 
 redoubled assiduity. She did not like any re- 
 ference to that day. It frightened her, and she 
 was sure that it mast frighten Edith also. The 
 poor little woman was utterly incapable of com- 
 prehending the heroism with which her niece had 
 faced down the horror of the recollection. Edith 
 was weak only with regard to what might be. 
 What had been, or what was, she could meet 
 unshrinkingly.
 
 TREASON AT HOME. 157 
 
 " I hear carriage wheels," said Edith, suddenly- 
 breaking the silence which had followed Mrs. 
 Arden's reply. She half raised herself on the 
 
 conch. 
 
 " Lie still, now do, please, my dear," implored 
 Mrs. Arden, rising and going to the window. 
 '' Yes, it is Isabel, and — " 
 
 " And Lady Tremyss?" exclaimed Edith, her 
 
 face flushing. 
 
 " Yes, but of course Lady Tremyss is not coming 
 in. There, the carriage is turning." * 
 
 While she spoke, quick steps were heard run- 
 ning along the gallery, and Isabel entered, bear- 
 ing a basket of flowers. As she caught sight of 
 Edith, she suddenly deposited her burden on the 
 floor, and springing forward, knelt beside her, and 
 laid her cheek on hers; then raising her head 
 for a moment, she looked earnestly in Edith's 
 face, her brown eyes glistening, and sat quietly 
 down on the floor beside her, holding her 
 
 hand. 
 
 Mrs. Arden glanced at her an instant over her
 
 158 TREASON AT HOME. 
 
 spectacles : Isabel was behaving better than she 
 had expected. 
 
 As Isabel sat thus clasping her hand, a slow re- 
 volution began to work itself in Edith's thoughts 
 concerning her. She became dimly conscious of 
 depths in Isabel's nature at which she had not 
 guessed, she vaguely felt that under her thought- 
 less vivacity, her childish recklessness, there lay a 
 fund of undeveloped earn estness, a hidden reser- 
 voir of passionate strength. She turned and 
 gazed in Isabel's eyes, then passing her arm 
 around her neck, drew her towards her and kissed 
 her. 
 
 *' My dear, haven't you forgotten your flowers?" 
 said Mrs, Arden after a pause, during which she 
 had directed several perplexed glances at the two 
 silent figures before her. — Mrs. Arden did not 
 comprehend mute speech. 
 
 Isabel rose and brought the basket to Edith. 
 
 "How beautiful." she exclaimed, as her eye 
 rested on the brilliant, strongly contrasted hues, 
 •^and the basket, how pretty it is."
 
 TREASON AT HOME. 169 
 
 " Do you like it ? I am very glad ! Mamma set 
 me working it for you when I was so miserable 
 because I came away every day without seeing 
 you. She drew the pattern, and showed me how." 
 
 " Did she invent the flowers ?" aksed Edith, ex- 
 amining the graceful outline and gorgeous colour- 
 ing of the wreath of embroidery that encircled 
 the basket. '' They look as if they must be real ; 
 and yet 1 never saw any such." 
 
 "I a sked her if she had made them up, and 
 she said no," answered Isabel. *' She alwajrs 
 draws her own patterns. She never copies any 
 of the flowers in the garden or the conservatory ; 
 but I once found some like them engraved in a 
 book of Mrs. Lacy's." 
 
 " Is she really quite well now?" asked Edith, 
 unconsciously paling a little. 
 
 " Yes," said Isabel ; then lowering her tone, 
 she added, '' When you see her, don't say any- 
 thing. She won't like it." 
 
 " No," replied Edith, sinking her voice like- 
 wise. " But why ?"
 
 160 TREASON AT HOME. 
 
 " I don't know. All the county has called 
 just as they have here ; and sent messages, and 
 all that; but mamma wouldn't receive, and 
 always sent word that she was perfectly well. 
 But she could not wear a tight dress for more 
 than a fortnight; beg all I could, she wouldn't 
 have the doctor, and she wouldn't let me see the 
 place." 
 
 '^1 won't say anything," whispered Edith, as 
 Isabel, glancing at her watch, rose to leave her ; 
 *^ but tell her how I feel." 
 
 She took Isabel's two hands and looked 
 earnestly at her. 
 
 " Yes," replied Isabel, " I'll tell her. When 
 would you like to see her? She'll come." 
 
 It was arranged that Lady Tremyss should call 
 the next day. 
 
 Punctual to Isabel's appointment Lady Tremyss 
 came. Her visit was at once a relief and a dis- 
 appointment to Edith. The scene at the caravan 
 had to all appearance passed totally from her 
 preserver's mind.
 
 TREASON AT HOME. 161 
 
 CHAPTER YL 
 
 *^ Well, Doctor, how do you find your patient 
 this morning," said Walter, as he met Dr. Jacobs 
 in the hall a day or two later, 
 
 ^' We are doing very well. We are promoted 
 to beefsteak and old port to-day." 
 
 ^' Old port," repeated young Arden, rather 
 dubiously. " Are you not afraid it may act on 
 her nerves ?'' 
 
 '^ I hope it will. That's what I give it for. But 
 why do you wish that it should not ?" 
 
 "Oh, I know nothing about it," replied the 
 young man, — ^' only if it were to make her see 
 disagreeable things." 
 
 Dr. Jacobs laughed.
 
 162 TREASON AT HOME. 
 
 " A wine-glassfull would scarcely do that." 
 
 ** But a wine-glassfull did do that," replied 
 Walter gravely. 
 
 Dr. Jacobs stopped laughing. His professional 
 curiosity was roused. — Had young Arden really 
 discovered any person so peculiarly open to the 
 action of stimulants ? It was worth while find- 
 ing out what he meant. 
 
 " Just explain, won't you. Do you mean to 
 say that you ever met any one over three years 
 of age, who could be seriously affected by a glass 
 of wine?" 
 
 " Certainly. It struck me as strange, but it 
 happened only a few weeks ago. That groom of 
 Sir Ralph's, who was so much abused at the time 
 of the accident, — you remember ?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 " Well, he came here and was taken ill. 
 Frintly ordered him a sedative, and Witchkin's 
 assistant sent him port wine by mistake. It pro- 
 duced the strangest effect upon him, — made him 
 see visions."
 
 TREASON AT HOME. 163 
 
 Dr. Jacobs raised his eye-brows incredulously. 
 
 '* What sort of visions ?" 
 
 " According to his account, painfully distinct 
 — a procession of disagreeable faces." 
 
 " It wasn't port wine. It was an opiate— an 
 overdose." 
 
 " But Witchkin's assistant confessed to having 
 made the mistake, and having sent port wine in- 
 stead of the prescription." 
 
 '' Then he lied." 
 
 " But it wasn't the first time it had happened. 
 He took a glass the day Sir Ralph was drowned, 
 and it produced the same effect." 
 
 Dr. Jacobs shot a quick glance at his com- 
 panion. 
 
 " Indeed ! Who gave it to him ?" 
 
 "The butler at the Park, Goliath." 
 
 Dr. Jacobs' eyebrows lowered over his eyes. 
 He compressed his lips, and stood a moment in 
 thought, then looking up, said, 
 
 " Where w^as this groom when he took the 
 supposed sedative ?"
 
 164 TREASON AT HOME. 
 
 " At Mrs. Dingall's ; one of the people on the 
 Tremyss estate." 
 
 " Can you give me the direction ?" 
 Walter gave the address. 
 '^It is a very curious case. I think I shall 
 call and find out all I can about it. One 
 can't get too much light on such matters, you 
 know." 
 
 Dr. Jacobs drove away in the direction of Mrs. 
 Dingall's. 
 
 Mrs. Dingall had been busy at the wash-tub, 
 when the unaccustomed event of a vehicle stop- 
 ping at her door, brought her out. 
 
 " Is your name Dingall, my good woman?" 
 " Yes, Sir, if you please, Sir," answered Mrs. 
 Dingall, looking alarmed. All her surprises in 
 life, poor woman, had been of a disagreeable 
 nature ; accordingly she looked distrustfully at 
 this new one, personified in Dr. Jacobs. 
 
 " There was a man, a groom, staying here, ill, 
 awhile ago, 1 believe.' 
 " Yes, Sir, but he's gone. Sir ; he went a week
 
 TREASON AT HOME. 165 
 
 ago to-day. Mr. Arden sent him off to Canada, 
 Sir." 
 
 She looked up as if that were well off her 
 mind. Surely now the visitor would go away. 
 
 But no. Dr. Jacobs gave no sign of moving. 
 
 *^ When he was ill, there was a mistake about 
 some medicine, I believe." 
 
 " Yes, Sir ; but it wasn't I, Sir. It was the 
 apothecary's young man, Sir." 
 
 '' Yes, I know you were not at all to blame." 
 
 '' Thank you. Sir," said Mrs. Dingall, courtsey- 
 ing and looking somewhat relieved. 
 
 '' Who was it that took the prescription to be 
 made up?" 
 
 Mrs. Dingall's tears returned in full force. 
 
 ** It was I, Sir, but I brought it home just as it 
 was given to me. Nobody ever thought of blam- 
 ing me, Sir." 
 
 " Of course not Then you saw it made up ? " 
 
 " Yes, Sir. I saw the young man take the big 
 bottle down, and measure it and pour it into a 
 little one." 
 
 This improbable statement appeared in no
 
 166 TREASON AT HOME. 
 
 wise to diminish the interest with which Dr. 
 Jacobs was listening to her communication. 
 
 '' And then what did he do ?" 
 
 '' Then he poured in a little of something 
 yellow, Sir," 
 
 ^^ Syrup/' said Dr. Jacobs to himself. 
 
 " And then— ?" 
 
 *^And then, yes, Sir, then he filled it up with 
 something that looked like water." 
 
 " Very well, you observed very well. Now can 
 you tell me where the large bottle stood, out of 
 which he poured the first liquid into the little 
 bottle that he gave you ?*' 
 
 " Yes, Sir," responded Mrs. Dingall promptly, 
 inspired by the comfortable belief that since the 
 gentleman had praised her, no harm was coming 
 of it. " He turned round and took it from the 
 shelf just behind him." 
 
 ^^ Where was he standing ?" 
 
 ^' Behind the scales, Sir. I noticed it because 
 he rested his chin on the top of them when he 
 asked me what I wanted." 
 
 " Which shelf did he take it from?"
 
 TREASON AT HOME. 167 
 
 **I don't know, Sir. Itwasn't from the top ones." 
 
 Dr. Jacobs paused and cogitated. Mrs. Dingall, 
 her fears allayed, began to remember regretfully 
 the warm soap suds. They would certainly get 
 cold. She shifted her weight from one foot to 
 the other, with a sort of meek impatience. 
 
 " Was it not rather queer, his resting his chin 
 on the top of the balance ?" 
 
 " Yes, Sir, — the young man was rather queer, 
 Sir?" 
 
 "How?" • 
 
 ^' Why, he seemed a sort of 'mazed like, Sir. 
 He was uncommon polite, and called me ' Sir,' 
 all the time." 
 
 Dr. Jacobs meditated anew. Mrs. Dingall 
 stole sideways to the door of the cottage and 
 looked in. The tub was still steaming. She took 
 courage and returned. 
 
 " Was there any label on the bottle ? '' 
 
 " No, Sir." 
 
 " Unpardonable carelessness, that," commented 
 Dr. Jacobs.
 
 168 TREASON AT HOME. 
 
 " Then he gave you the bottle, and you took it 
 directly home? " 
 
 ^' Yes, Sir. I never let it go out of my hand 
 till I gave it to him here, Sir." 
 
 *^ Pray have you any of the bottles used when 
 the groom was ill ? " 
 
 '* Oh, yes, Sir, I've got them all. You don't 
 think I'd throw anything away, Sir ! " — in a tone 
 of deprecatory surprise. 
 
 "Oh, very well," said Dr. Jacobs, brightening 
 up. " Sometimes it's the best thing people can 
 do to throw physic away, but it wouldn't have 
 been so here. Would you be so good as to bring 
 me those bottles ? and then I won't detain you 
 any longer." 
 
 Mrs. Dingall withdrew, her motions quickened 
 by the unmistakeable vision of the strange gentle- 
 man's hand approaching the strange gentleman's 
 pocket. 
 
 She was gone longer than Dr. Jacobs had 
 expected. Finally she reappeared, holding two 
 brightly shining glass phials.
 
 TREASON AT HOME. 169 
 
 «^ Eh— Oh,— What's that ! " exclaimed Dr. 
 Jacobs. 
 
 " Fm sorry to have kept you waiting. Sir, but 
 they were dirty and I washed them out, Sir. 
 Now they look as clean as need be." 
 
 And she held them up triumphantly. 
 
 "The corks, you didn't wash the corks, did 
 you?" said Dr. Jacobs, catching at a ray of 
 hope. 
 
 " No, Sir, I'm very sorry. Sir," responded Mrs. 
 Dingall, penitently, perceiving that something 
 was wrong, " but, I beg pardon. Sir, they smelt 
 bad. Sir, and I didn't think they would be useful, 
 and so I just dropped them into the fire, Sir." 
 
 Dr. Jacobs silently put a shilling into Mrs. 
 Dingall's hand, and turned his horse away. 
 
 There was something here to be found out. He 
 had been foiled at the woman's with regard to 
 the bottles, but he had, nevertheless, got some 
 important information. He was very nearly sure 
 it was not port wine that Mrs. Dingall had 
 carried home. Now to Witchkin's, to verify the 
 
 VOL. I. I
 
 J 70 TREASON AT HOME. 
 
 position of the large bottle, and find out the truth 
 of the story as to the alleged mistake. 
 
 Mr. Barrows presented himself to Dr. Jacobs' 
 eyes as he entered the shop. He stood for an 
 instantj studying the assistant's appearance. 
 
 " Unsatisfactory," thought Dr. Jacobs to him- 
 self. He advanced to that part of the counter 
 where the scales were suspended, and cast a glance 
 along the rows of bottles. There it was, just where 
 Mrs. Dingall had seen it. Then why on earth 
 had the assistant said he had made a mistake ? 
 
 Dr. Jacobs looked again at him. Mr. Barrows 
 meekly advanced. He did not exactly like the 
 investigating expression of the stranger's face, 
 for Mr. Barrows had but recently made his 
 appearance in the shop, and Dr. Jacobs was a 
 stranger to him. 
 
 "^ A fine morning. Sir," he said, with a lack- 
 lustre glance at that portion of the sky visible 
 between the coloured jars in the window. 
 
 '' A very fine morning, enough to make all the 
 sick people well."
 
 TKEASON AT HOME. 171 
 
 " Well, Sir, I hope not." 
 
 And Mr. Barrows gave a melancholy smile, that 
 would have suited a sentimental vampire. 
 
 " Oh, you think that would not suit you." 
 
 " No, Sir, there's not much doing any way. 
 The country is a dreadfully healthy place, Sir." 
 
 And he looked more depressed than before. 
 
 " Yet the country people have their ail- 
 ments. One of the finest young fellows I ever 
 saw, was pulled down a week or two ago at Mrs. 
 Dingall's " 
 
 " Very like. Sir ; but I don't know the name." 
 
 " Perhaps you would know her. She was a 
 pale faced woman, with both of her front teeth 
 gone. She brought a prescription for a sedative 
 from Dr. Frintly ?" 
 
 " Don't know, — can't tell. Sir." 
 
 " Don't you remember ? There was some 
 mistake about it. You sent port wine instead, 
 didn't you ?" 
 
 Mr. Barrows' face took an expression of hope- 
 less perplexity. 
 
 I 2
 
 172 TREASON AT HOME. 
 
 " I am sure I don't know, Sir." 
 
 ^' Have you got the prescription ?" 
 
 "" I can look. Sir." 
 
 Opening a large book, he began feebly to turn 
 over the pages. 
 
 *' Give it here," said Dr. Jacobs ; and in a few 
 moments he paused at Dr. Frintly's pre- 
 scription. 
 
 *' There, do you see that?'' 
 
 " Yes, Sir." 
 
 '' What did you give the woman that brought 
 it?" 
 
 '' I gave her the prescription. Sir." 
 
 " Then why did you tell Dr. Frintly that you 
 gave her port wine ?" 
 
 Barrows, feeling that his wits were leaving 
 him, groaned aloud. 
 
 ^' Come, answer me ; why did you say that ?" 
 
 ^* I suppose it must have been true, Sir." 
 
 " But don't you know? Can't you tell the 
 truth now?" 
 
 << If I knew, I would, Sir."
 
 TREASON AT HOME. 173 
 
 Whereupon Dr. Jacobs, giving up the interro- 
 gatory as useless, left the shop. 
 
 " The fellow is an idiot," he thought to himself, 
 as he drove down the village street, greatly dis- 
 turbing some stray geese, and loudly acclaimed 
 by some round-cheeked children, who, running 
 after him, with an instinctive perception that 
 thej^ were safe from any un sympathising cut from 
 the whip, scrambled up behind, — " an idiot. 
 "What the woman said settles the question. The 
 man took a sedative, an over-dose. He describes 
 the usual symptoms, says he has experienced 
 them before, gives as a date the evening of Sir 
 Ealph's death, and names the butler as the per- 
 son who gave it to him. But, perhaps, he had 
 the tooth-ache, or some ache or other, and some 
 of the women in the house — women are always 
 playing doctor — had given him an anodyne, and 
 he had ascribed its effects to the port wine. 
 That's much more probable. And the man is not 
 here to question. I fancy I have given myself a 
 good deal of trouble about nothing."
 
 174 TREASON AT HOME. 
 
 So saying,^ Dr. Jacobs dismissed the subject 
 from his mind. 
 
 And Nemesis drew back into her shadowy 
 hand the clue that had fallen from the good 
 doctor's careless hold, and waited and watched 
 again.
 
 TREASON AT HOME. 175 
 
 CHAPTER YII. 
 
 As Dr. Jacobs had predicted, Edith soon dis- 
 missed him, or rather he declared that he had 
 more serious matters on hand than coming every- 
 day to assure himself that she did not need his 
 services. Accordingly he withdrew, and Edith 
 was left to the sole care of Mrs. Arden, who, 
 sharing the disinclination to out-door exercise 
 that marks most ladies of her age, laid that por- 
 tion of the charge which necessitated drives, rides, 
 and when Edith grew stronger, walks, upon 
 Walter. 
 
 One afternoon they had strolled together in the 
 
 direction of the village church. They had taken 
 
 a woodland path, and had loitered along. The 
 
 close of the summer had passed while Edith was
 
 176 TREASON AT HOME. 
 
 shut up, and now the autumn was come. The 
 soft hues, the tender sadness, the regretful quiet 
 of the season, harmonized with the naturally 
 subdued tone of Edith's spirits. The dreamy 
 stillness of the autumn woods, scarce disturbed 
 by the momentary appearance of a little brown 
 rabbit or leaping hare, seemed a spell around 
 them both. They scarcely spoke, wandering on 
 in silence as if they feared to disturb some un- 
 real habitant. At length they came to the border 
 of the woodland : the little church lay before 
 them, grey, peaceful, solemn. 
 
 Drawn by that sense and love of contrast 
 which we so often see in the young, they entered 
 the churchyard and wandered amid the graves, 
 stooping here and there to decipher some moss- 
 grown inscription, or to part the weeds from some 
 tiny head-stone which told that an infant lay be- 
 neath. 
 
 Edith seated herself upon the low wall, and 
 gazed around. The sun was sinking in the western 
 sky, a few amber clouds floated high over head,
 
 TREASON AT HOME. 177 
 
 the chirping of birds came from the old trees 
 that surrounded the quiet spot. 
 
 " How much better to lie here than under the 
 stone pavement of the church," she said. 
 " How sad for those who have loved them to 
 stand Sunday after Sunday above the vaults, and 
 think of those who lie there cold and still, deaf 
 to the chanting, dumb in the responses — so near, 
 yet gone for ever." 
 
 '^ And yet it almost seems that the dead may 
 like to be grieved for," answered Walter, whose 
 associations were perhaps more classic than 
 Christian. 
 
 ^•'If they truly loved they would wish the 
 living to be happy," said Edith. " How dread- 
 ful it must be for Lady Tremyss to think of her 
 husband, who was so fond of her, buried under 
 her very feet." 
 
 " But he is not," replied Walter, 
 
 *^ Why? I thought the Tremyss tomb was 
 there. Are not the Tremyss monuments in the 
 church ?" 
 
 I 5
 
 178 TREASON AT HOME. 
 
 " Certainly ; but Sir Ralph is not there." 
 
 ^^ Why not?" 
 
 " His body was not found. The river is deep, 
 and full of rocks and holes. They dragged it for 
 miles, but the body had got caught somewhere. 
 It never rose." 
 
 *' And perhaps it is still there, close to his 
 home?" 
 
 *^No one can say." 
 
 " It may be that the sphynxes know and can- 
 not tell. Do you not remember that first day?" 
 
 " Yes, I remember. You said they looked as 
 if they knew something." 
 
 '^ How can she bear to live there with that 
 cruel, treacherous river running past her very 
 gate?" 
 
 '' Use, you know ; besides, the park is her pro- 
 perty. It was left to her. She would not like to 
 give it up." 
 
 " Did Sir Ealph leave her all his property ?" 
 
 '' Everything he could dispose of he settled 
 upon her."
 
 TREASON AT HOME. 179 
 
 " I thought estates usually went to men?" 
 " There was no entail on the property he in- 
 herited from his mother. He could do with it as 
 he liked. But the sun is going down ; had we 
 not better return ?" 
 
 " You will think me more foolish than ever," 
 replied Edith, rising reluctantly ; ^^ but I really 
 don't like the idea of crossing that river." 
 
 " I never think you foolish, you know ; and it 
 is quite comprehensible why this evening the 
 river should be disagreeable. We had better ^'o 
 home by the road, it is the shortest way." 
 
 Leaving the churchyard they walked in the 
 direction of the river, which lay between them 
 and Arden Hall. 
 
 They reached at length the bridge, a single 
 Eoman arch, whose solid masonry still firmly 
 spanned the rushing water below. Edith stopped 
 a nd looked over the stone parapet. 
 
 " Where was it that he fell in?" she asked, 
 looking up the river. " Ilton Park is higher 
 than this, it must have been at some distance."
 
 180 TREASON AT HOME. 
 
 " I was away, and do not know exactly ; but 
 anyone in the neighbourliood could tell." 
 
 " I want to know, because then there will be 
 only one place to feel uncomfortable at passing ; 
 otherwise the whole river is dreadful." 
 
 She drsw back. 
 
 Walter saw that Edith was distressed. She 
 must be satisfied immediately. He looked 
 around. A group of children were playing at 
 marbles near by. 
 
 '' Here, boy," he called. 
 
 They raised their shock heads, looked distrust- 
 fully at him an instant, as if he were a beadle in 
 disguise, then whispered hurriedly together. 
 The result of their conference was the pushing 
 forward of a staring-eyed boy, who advanced a 
 few steps, and then stood immoveable, mindless of 
 the admonitions of the rest. 
 
 ^' Do you live in this neighbourhood ?" 
 
 *' 'Tisn't me he wants, it's Jem," responded 
 the offered-up boy, looking over his shoulder, 
 then facing round and beating a sudden retreat.
 
 TREASON AT HOME. 181 
 
 '^ Go ^long with you, Jem, doan't ye keep the 
 gentleman waiting," vociferated the shock-headed 
 .chorus^ the secret of whose reluctance to ap- 
 proach lay in the vivid recollection of a foray 
 executed upon the Arden orchard a few evenings 
 previously, and a perfect knowledge of the per- 
 sonal identity of the handsome young gentleman 
 before them. 
 
 Thus adjured, Jem, a small, sharp-visaged 
 youth of about ten, reluctantly advanced. 
 
 " Do you live near by ?" ^ 
 
 ^' E'es, Sir; I lives down there," point- 
 ing to a miserable little cottage close to 
 the water's edge. He then glanced ruefully 
 round at his companions. They were stealing 
 away. If Jem had been found out and had got 
 to be trounced, so much the worse for him. 
 Staying and seeing it wouldn't help him. Jem, 
 seeing himself deserted, looked beseechingly in 
 Walter's face. 
 
 " ril give you a shilling if you can tell me 
 where Sir Ralph fell in."
 
 182 TREASON AT HOME. 
 
 He drew the coin from his pocket. 
 
 Every muscle of Jem's face reversed its posi- 
 tion ; his sharp eyes shone, he stretched out his 
 hand ; then a slow eclipse spread over his face, and 
 he dropped his arm with a perplexed and doleful 
 look. 
 
 "What, don't you know?" 
 
 '^ I know's summ'at. Sir." 
 
 " Then tell all you know, and you shall have 
 it." 
 
 The boy gazed longingly at the shilling. 
 
 " Can't you speak ? Well, if you don't want 
 it-^" 
 
 And young Arden was about to put it back in 
 his pocket. The boy jumped like a fish on a 
 line. 
 
 *' Please, Sir, let me think a bit. Sir." 
 
 " Be quick, then. Why are you so long about 
 it ?" said Walter, beginning to lose patience. 
 
 " You won't never tell nobody. Sir, what I says 
 to you if I'll tell ?" 
 
 ** No. I only want this young lady to know."
 
 TREASON AT HOME. 183 
 
 ^' Well, Sir," said the lad in a confidential 
 whisper, coming nearer, " Daddy had some lines 
 out here and some more down the river that night, 
 and he set me a watching of these. And as I 
 was watching down there," he pointed to a spot 
 near the bridge, "I heerd a horse galloping along 
 the road, and I scuttled away and hid myself 
 under the bridge ; but I peeped, and I spied Sir 
 Ralph. He was going like mad. The moon was 
 out. I knew him well enough : it wasn't a week 
 since he'd laid his whip over my shoulders for 
 being in the road as he drove by. When he'd got 
 past I came out again, and in a little while I 
 heerd a sort of a roar, like, come down the river. 
 I was scared at it. Sir, it was such a sound, and I 
 thought to myself— there's the devil has got Sir 
 Ralph at last, — and 1 crept under the bridge 
 again. And the next morning I heerd as how 
 Sir Ralph was drownded. They said it was 
 swimming of the river in front of the park, but 
 it wasn't true. Sir. I seen him, Sir, as plain as I 
 sees you ; but Daddy would have thrashed me if I
 
 184 TREASON AT HOME. 
 
 had let on a word to any body, 'cause as liow then 
 it would have come out about the lines." 
 
 " Strange, " said young Arden thoughtfully. 
 " Did you never tell your father ?" 
 
 " No, sir. Daddy was in a thundering fury 
 that night 'cause as how he'd had bad luck; 
 and he basted me 'cause the fish hadn't risen. So 
 I kept clean out of his way at first, and after- 
 wards I didn't think to tell." 
 
 Walter tossed the boy the shilling, and turned 
 to Edith. 
 
 " Well, you have heard. You won't be afraid 
 to cross the bridge now? I thought it was 
 directly in front of the Park, but I wasn't sure, 
 I wonder the boy should have heard so dis- 
 tinctly. However, sound travels far on water, 
 especially at night." 
 
 "That must have been the same shout the 
 servants heard." 
 
 And Edith repeated Mrs. Dingall's ghost 
 story. 
 
 '' That isn't likely. No one could have heard
 
 TREASON AT HOME. 185 
 
 sucli a distance through the close timber of the 
 Park/' 
 
 " But they said it woke them up." 
 " Don't you see that must have been im- 
 possible ? The house stands more than half a 
 mile from the road." 
 " It must have been something." 
 '^ Probably an owl,— owls are the fathers of 
 half the ghost stories going ; — or it may have been 
 that one servant screamed in a dream and woke 
 the rest up, and as it happened to be on tllfe 
 night Sir Ralph was drowned, of course they 
 declared it was his ghost come to inform them. 
 The superstition of those people is exasperating." 
 They walked on in silence for some time, then 
 Walter suddenly exclaimed 
 '^ I don't understand it at all." 
 '^ What?" asked Edith, '' the ghost?" 
 " That lad's story. How did the horse get into 
 the river?" 
 
 " It might have run away and swam across." 
 " It wouldn't have been likely to swim away
 
 186 TREASON AT HOME. 
 
 from home. And besides, I remember hearing 
 that it was found on the Park side of the 
 river." 
 
 " What do you think, then ?" asked Edith, 
 uneasily. 
 
 " I don't know what to think. There's some 
 catch in the story. I wish I had been here at the 
 time." 
 
 The subject dropped, and they walked silently 
 
 on. 
 
 As they turned from the road into a narrow 
 lane that led to the Hall they heard the 
 sound of hoofs. They looked back. Lady 
 
 Tremyss, in her black habit, and Isabel, in her 
 riding-dress of pale grey, shot past like phan- 
 toms. 
 
 Edith and Walter watched them until the 
 
 misty shadows hid their fast receding figures. 
 
 They seemed to Edith to have vanished into 
 another world.
 
 TREASON AT HOME. 187 
 
 CHAPTEB YIII. 
 
 Since the time of Edith's illness, Isabel had been 
 an almost daily visitor at the Hall. One of those 
 friendships which sometimes so strangely link to 
 each other opposite natures, had sprung up 
 between the two girls, so dissimilar in appear- 
 ance, in education, in taste, and in character. 
 
 On Isabel's side the attachment was the more 
 enthusiastic, certainly, yet she appeared satisfied 
 with the quiet affection which Edith tendered 
 her. Its very tranquillity seemed to be to her one 
 charm the more. 
 
 Her habit was to gallop over from the Park 
 after breakfast, to spend the morning with Edith, 
 and to gall op back to lunch. She seemed to have
 
 188 TREASON AT HOME. 
 
 no definite aim in these visits, except to be in 
 Edith's presence. Often she would lie on the 
 floor the whole morning, her head resting on her 
 arms, her face perfectly motionless, her eyes 
 watching Edith's every motion; then, when 
 mid-day approached, she would rise from her 
 recumbent position, kiss Edith on her forehead, or 
 her cheek, or her neck, or her hand — she never 
 kissed her on the lips — and go away, having 
 spoken scarcely a word. 
 
 Edith had at first attempted to induce her 
 visitor to lie on the sofa ; but Isabel's look of 
 discomfort pleaded so powerfully against the 
 enforced luxury, that her hostess was fain, after 
 a few reluctant efforts on Isabel's part, to allow 
 her to return to her favourite resting-place on the 
 floor. 
 
 Little by little she grew accustomed to Isabel's 
 private ways, which were as unlike as possible to 
 those which she displayed in public. Edith 
 would read, draw, work, and think with perfect 
 disregard to Isabel's presence, from time to time
 
 TKEASON AT HOME. 189 
 
 looking up and gazing an instant on the beauti- 
 ful face that lay watching her with such strange 
 fixedness. Then the shadow of a smile would 
 rise in Isabel's brown eyes, as if she heard the 
 distant song of a bird, or caught a gleam of sun- 
 light on falling water. Sometimes she would 
 rise from her recumbent position, and drawing 
 up her knees and resting her chin on them, would 
 sit plunged in reverie. If Edith asked what 
 she was thinking of, she would answer — 
 " Nothing." 
 
 But these fits of silence and reverie would 
 pass off, and leave Isabel the same gay, laughing, 
 playful being as before. Then she would chatter 
 by the hour together, apparently not much caring 
 whether Edith listened or not. 
 
 She would mimic all her acquaintance, from 
 the rector, a pompous personage, who officiated 
 but rarely, down to Dame Barlow, a red-eyed 
 old woman, afflicted with a lamentable stam- 
 mer. She could mock the sound of every 
 feathered or four-footed creature, and would
 
 190 TREASON AT HOME. 
 
 take an elfish delight in provoking them to trials 
 of skill. In short, nothing could be more 
 capricious, more desultory, or more perplexing, 
 than her moods, her occupations, and her fancies ; 
 yet through all these ran a vein of originality 
 which engaged Edith's interest. 
 
 It was about a fortnight after Edith's walk to 
 the churchyard. The morning was sunny, the 
 light poured brightly into the great sitting-room 
 which had been appropriated to Edith's use since 
 her arrival at the Hall. Edith sat at a table 
 near the window, drawing. Isabel lay lounging 
 in an easy chair, her dark riding habit showing 
 every outline of her symmetrical figure. Her 
 hat was cast on the floor beside her, in company 
 with her riding- whip and gloves; her long, 
 curling lashes almost touched her cheek as she 
 lay, her eyes bent on the floor. At length she 
 broke silence with a sigh. The sound was new 
 to Edith. She had never heard Isabel sigh before. 
 All her fits of silence had seemed pure intro-
 
 TREASON AT HOME. 191 
 
 version — no sadness had mingled with them. 
 She raised her head. 
 
 " What is it, Isabel ? " 
 
 " It's something dreadfal/' was Isabel's reply, 
 
 Edith dropped her pencil and came towards 
 her. She seated herself on the elbow of the 
 easy chair. 
 
 " What is it ? Won't you tell me ? " 
 
 " I've always been so happy, and now I'm 
 almost seventeen, — in a month it will be my 
 birthday." • 
 
 The discord which Isabel apparently perceived 
 between her past happiness and the vicinity of 
 seventeen, was not equally visible to Edith's 
 perceptions. 
 
 "Well," she said, as if expecting a more dis- 
 tinct explanation of the sigh. 
 
 " But it isn't well. I feel, — I don't know how 
 I feel, — as if I were going to be a stranger, 
 — as if all were to be changed, and as if I should 
 lose myself in it." 
 
 She turned a half appealing look to Edith.
 
 192 TREASON AT HOME. 
 
 " Tell me all about it Try to think it out," 
 said Edith softly. 
 
 " I can't," said Isabel, shaking her head. 
 *^ Besides, I don't want to. What would you 
 say if I told you that I felt as if I could be 
 wicked ?" 
 
 "I shouldn't be afraid," replied Edith, "I 
 know you would not hurt me, and I don't believe 
 you would hurt any one else." 
 
 ^' Yes, but I might hurt myself," said Isabel 
 gloomily. Then, springing up hastily, she passed 
 her hand through the masses of her hair, tossing 
 them down with a quick impatient ges ture. 
 
 " I have a had bad dream I think. I don't be- 
 lieve it was myself 
 
 She went to the window, looked out over the 
 even sweep of the lawn, gazed an instant at the 
 blue sky, tormented a canary by executing an 
 impossible cadenza, wound up her hair again, 
 kissed Edith, and left the room. 
 
 " You ought to have read up for this evening,
 
 TREASON AT HOME. 193 
 
 ladies," said Walter, coming into the parlour 
 where Edith had joined her aunt, some hours 
 later. Here's a note from Mr. Tracey, to say 
 that Mr. Hungerford, the great traveller, has 
 just come down to stay with him, and asking 
 leave to bring him. You won't shine, Edith, 
 unless you are well up in Mexican architecture 
 and North American earthworks." 
 
 ^' Dear me, you don't say so. What shall I 
 do?" exclaimed his aunt, suddenly passing into 
 a state of extreme and anxious perplexity. " 1 
 never talked to a great traveller in all my life. I 
 shan't know in the least what to say to him. I 
 wish he hadn't come down ; I'm sure he'll find 
 it stupid. And as to reading up, I wonder you 
 should speak of such a thing, Walter, when you 
 know I haven't got any time. Here it is three 
 o'clock, and we dine at seven." 
 
 '^ But if you were to take the Encyclopedia, 
 and read up Canada — that's where he was last," 
 replied Walter gravely, — " I don't think it would 
 take long." 
 
 VOL. 1. K
 
 194 . TREASON AT HOME. 
 
 ^' Don't mind him, Auntie, he's only teasing 
 you," said Edith, consolingly. '' Mr. Hunger- 
 ford will be very pleasant. We had Dr. Spracklin 
 to dine, and he was such a nice, chatty little man.** 
 
 " Mind, Aunt Arden, that you put Edith near 
 him. Perhaps she would like to have him take 
 her in to dinner," interposed Walter. 
 
 " Oh, but I can't, I can't indeed ; the table is 
 all arranged. Dear me, Walter, here I was just 
 quieting myself down for the evening, and you've 
 upset me again. My nerves are all in a quiver ; 
 I wish you'd go away and not stand there look- 
 ing so provoking. Edith can't go in with Mr. 
 Hungerford, that is, unless she wants to — but 
 you don't, do you, my dear?" she said implor- 
 ingly, addressing her niece. 
 
 Thus adjured, Edith professed perfect willing- 
 ness to go in with any one whom her aunt might 
 choose. But Walter, having ascertained Edith's 
 private wishes, manoeuvred until he had modified 
 the dinner table arrangements so that Edith 
 should have the traveller opposite her.
 
 TREASON AT HOME. 195 
 
 " Not that it will do you mucli good," he 
 added, when communicating the result of his 
 tactics to Edith. " He won't talk— no'oody ever 
 talks at these dinner parties. They're more stupid 
 than you can imagine." 
 
 '' I don't think it will be so bad," Edith 
 returned. '^ Besides, I can always find p,niuse- 
 ment in watching new faces, even if the people 
 don't open their lips." 
 
 " I'm glad you will have that resource : you'll 
 need it," Walter responded. '' Six times a yea# 
 I'm bored to death, and on each occasion it 
 happens to be at one of our own dinner parties. 
 But I never say anything, for they're an institu- 
 tion. Annt Arden would as soon give up Church 
 and State." 
 
 When Walter entered the drawing-room that 
 evening, Edith's back was turned towards him. 
 At first he hardly recognized her in her trailing 
 length of skirt, her curls shortened and raised, 
 freeing the graceful outlines of her neck and 
 shoulders and imparting an unaccustomed dignity 
 
 K 2
 
 196 TREASON AT HOME. 
 
 to her appearance. As she turned at his approach 
 he half drew back. A painful sensation, as if 
 she had been suddenly snatched to a distance 
 from him, ran through his mind, mingling with 
 his admiration a sharp pang of regret. He had 
 felt her so near, so dear, so childlike, so clinging ; 
 and now, by some inexplicable mystery, she stood 
 before him, a graceful young woman, no longer 
 the Edith of every day, but something older and 
 more beautiful, perhaps inaccessible. 
 
 She looked up at him and smiled. The smile, 
 the eyes, were the same. 
 
 *' You don't say anything. Don't you like 
 Edith's dress ? I am sure you must," said Mrs. 
 Arden. '^ She has turned quite into a young 
 lady, you see." 
 
 " I see," responded Walter ; then, with an 
 efiPort, he continued. ^^ But how magnificent you 
 look yourself. It seems to me that there never 
 was so much of you before." 
 
 He turned his eyes upon her ample sweep of 
 velvet folds, and upon the rich parure of old 
 point which completed er costume.
 
 TREASON AT HOME. 197 
 
 '' It's all Edith's fault," replied Mrs. Arden, 
 looking a little ashamed. " She made me order 
 a new dress, and ransacked all my things till 
 she came across this lace, and she told Nitson 
 how to make it up ; and she said I must wear it 
 to please her, and so of course I did, you know." 
 
 '^ Wasn't I right, and isn't it becoming ? " 
 asked Edith, gazing affectionately at her aunt's 
 diminutive figure and features, set oif as they 
 were by her well chosen toilette. 
 
 *' Do tell me what you think about Edith ?i' 
 repeated Mrs. Arden. " How do you think she 
 looks to-night?" 
 
 Edith, who had been used since her earliest 
 childhood to hear her appearance commented 
 upon, turned an unembarrassed glance towards 
 him. She did not care much about it herself, but 
 she would be glad to have Walter like it. 
 
 *^ I liked to see her better as she was before,'' 
 he answered ; and, turning away, he employed 
 himself in re-arranging some engravings which 
 lay upon a table at a little distance.
 
 198 TREASON AT HOME. 
 
 Under a certain sort of provocation Edith was 
 anything but patient. Her eyes sparkled and 
 her colour rose at Walter's tone of cold and 
 almost rude dissatisfaction. 
 
 '' Dear me, how very odd Walter is to-night," 
 said his aunt, in an aggrieved tone. '^ I never 
 saw him so before. Don't care for it, dear, — yoa 
 look perfectly lovely." And she left the room to 
 ask a question that she had forgotten. 
 
 Edith sat down on a low couch and gazed 
 silently into the fire. 
 
 Walter turned his head and looked at her. He 
 knew that he had vexed her. He hastily ap- 
 proached. 
 
 " You never looked so well as you do to- 
 night." 
 
 She raised her eyes. There was that in his 
 tone that disarmed her anger at once. 
 
 " Then why— ?" 
 
 '^ Don't ask me," he replied, abruptly, and 
 returned to the engravings. 
 
 — Why? — he shrank from thinking.
 
 TREASON AT HOME. 199 
 
 Mrs. Arden returned and hurried up the room 
 as a carriage drove up to the hall door. 
 
 "I am so sorry that almost all the people 
 excepting Lady Tremyss will be strangers, quite 
 strangers to you, my dear," she said, as if struck 
 by a sudden thought. " I ought to have had 
 Isabel, I really had. But then she never comes, 
 and I never thought of it." 
 
 '^I am used to strangers ; I don't mind them," 
 Edith answered, smiling. 
 
 — Walter was not displeased with her. TheBe 
 was nothing else that could disturb her now. — 
 The guests arrived, closely following each other. 
 At length Mr. Tracey and Mr. Hungerford 
 were announced. Edith instantly singled out 
 the sava7it, a small, thin, wiry man, with pro- 
 jecting eyebrows, mobile features, and bronzed 
 complexion. As he was introduced to Edith 
 after his reception by Mrs. Arden, his expression 
 changed. He smiled, and, addressing some little 
 compliment to her, entered into conversation. 
 — It is something quite wonderful, the link of
 
 200 TREASON AT HOME. 
 
 sympathy wliich draws together men of study and 
 science, and pretty young girls. What they 
 talk about together, what mutual ground they 
 find to meet upon, is an unsolvable mystery ; but 
 the fact is there :— to the utter disgust and discom- 
 fiture of their younger and more eligible rivals, the 
 brightest glances and sweetest smiles are rained 
 upon men who at other moments clasp ^^ologies" 
 to their bosoms. 
 
 While Lady Tremyss entered the room, Mr. 
 Hungerford's eye rested attentively upon her. 
 He broke off what he was saying, with an 
 enquiry. 
 
 '^ Who is that? I did not hear the name." 
 
 '^ Lady Tremyss. Yery beautiful, is she 
 not ?" 
 
 " Singularly so." 
 
 " And so graceful." 
 
 "Yes. it is a peculiar grace. She does not 
 walk like an Englishwoman." 
 
 '^ I have often thought that she did not look 
 English."
 
 TREASON AT HOME. 201 
 
 " Indeed ! and yet I perceive what you mean. 
 She is darker than one usually sees, but her fea- 
 tures are purely English." 
 
 Here dinner was announced, and young Ken- 
 son with his ten thousand a year, who had stood 
 internally puffing and fuming at seeing the at- 
 tention of the young lady who should have fallen 
 to his share as by predestined right, thus en- 
 grossed, advanced to claim Edith, and snatch 
 her from the griff es of the London lion. 
 
 Edith surveyed the dinner table when she 
 found herself fairly seated. On her right was 
 young Kenson, a red faced youth, with uproar- 
 ious whiskers, small grey eyes, ordinary fore- 
 head, and strictly correct costume. On 
 her left sat Colonel Pycherly, a middle-aged 
 man, with unmeaning blue eyes, a long nose, and 
 a small mouth and chin, which seemed from their 
 want of size to be quite unable to meet the 
 steady demand he was in the habit of making 
 upon their receptive powers. At the end of the 
 table sat Walter and Lady Emily Marsh, the latter 
 
 K 5
 
 202 TREASON AT HOME. 
 
 composed of a scarlet velvet dress, a white lace 
 shawl, a towering head dress, and a set of 
 emeralds. Edith looked at her several times 
 without being able to perceive anything but these 
 articles of attire. Her eye slipped involuntarily 
 over Lady Emily's effaci features and vacant ex- 
 pression. On Walter's right, turning the corner 
 of the table, sat Mrs. Tinedale, a brunette, with 
 fine eyes, and irregular features. Next her, Mr 
 Hungerford ; beyond him, a solid embankment 
 of snow and pink silk, together forming Mrs. 
 Powell, quite obstructing the view down the 
 table and presenting an impenetrable breastwork ; 
 with her vis-d-vis, Colonel Pycherly, isolating 
 Edith's end of the table. She looked for Lady 
 Tremyss, but the great epergne with its drooping 
 fl-owers stood between. 
 
 "Walter was right," was the mental result of 
 her rapid reconnoissance. "How dreadfully stupid 
 it is going to be ! " 
 
 So thinking, Edith hopelessly resigned herself 
 to inevitable ennuL
 
 TREASON AT HOME. 203 
 
 The soup plates, as is their custom, appeared 
 to impose a reverential awe upon the guests. 
 The first course passed in silence, broken only by 
 an observation from young Renson to Edith, 
 conveyed in a mysterious undertone, as if he were 
 seeking to establish a private understanding. 
 
 '' Delicious soup bisque is !" 
 
 "Ala reine is better," replied Colonel Pycherly, 
 who had overheard the whispered remark, and 
 who had already reached the gilt cipher at the 
 bottom of his plate. • 
 
 " You should have sent word to Mrs. Arden," 
 maliciously responded Mrs. Tinedale, one of whose 
 favourite diversions consisted in bullying Colonel 
 Pycherly. 
 
 *^ Eh— what — I beg pardon," replied Colonel 
 Pycherly, made aware that he had committed 
 some blunder, by her provoking smile. And 
 turning very red, he applied himself diligently 
 to discussing some turbo t a la cremey which here 
 providentially made its appearance. 
 
 Mrs. Tinedale's face assumed an expression of
 
 204 TKEASON AT HOME. 
 
 content. She never undertook a conversation 
 with any pleasant man at dinner, until she had 
 silenced all the stupid ones within reach. She 
 waited quietly a while for an opportunity to 
 demolish young Eenson, but he was on his guard 
 and prudently held his tongue. She was obliged 
 to give him up. 
 
 '^ It is a long time since you were in England, 
 before, is it not ?" she said to Mr. Hungerford. 
 
 " Nearly three years." 
 
 " Does not a civilized table look very strangely 
 to you?" 
 
 " Somewhat." 
 
 *' Is it true that one grows so fond of the sort 
 of life you have been leading, that one gives it 
 up unwillingly?" 
 
 '^ I can imagine it might be so." 
 
 " But how do you find it yourself?" 
 
 " Really, I can scarcely tell." 
 
 Edith heaved an inaudible sigh. — " Mr. 
 Hungerford wouldn't talk— it was just as Walter 
 had predicted." —
 
 TKEASON AT HOME. 205 
 
 Mrs. Tinedale understood Mr. Hungerford's 
 reserve to mean that lie wanted to eat his dinner, 
 and would not talk until he chose ; so she turned 
 to Walter. 
 
 " You must allow me to coQgratulate you on 
 Miss Arden's recovery. How charmingly she is 
 looking to-night." 
 
 " Yes. She is well again," he replied. 
 
 " Are you quite well again, my dear ? " asked 
 Lady Emily, raising her voice and addressing 
 Edith. " Whata dreadful thing it was !" • 
 
 Mr. Hungerford looked up enquiringly, 
 
 " A shocking fright she had. How can Lady 
 Emily refer to it ?" Mrs. Tinedale said, in a low 
 tone. 
 
 " Excuse me," he said, suppressing his voice, 
 "but you excite my curiosity." 
 
 '' It happened at a show. Miss Hartley took her 
 there in one of her freaks. They let out an 
 A merican panther. It sprang at her." 
 
 " An unpardonable thing to let such an animal 
 loose. They are un tameable."
 
 206 TREASON AT HOME. 
 
 " And such a lovely young creature as that," 
 responded Mrs. Tinedale, warmly. 
 
 Mr. Hungerford looked at her. She was not 
 jealous of a prettier woman than herself. He 
 liked her. He would talk ; but later. He was 
 not going to harangue a dinner table. 
 
 " Pray where were jou at this time last year?'* 
 asked Walter, mindful of Edith's delight in 
 hearing clever men talk, and making a forlorn 
 effort to gratify it, 
 
 *' Last October, at this time, I was in Canada." 
 
 " I have heard that there are such lovely 
 flowers in Canada," said Mrs. Tinedale, promptly 
 returning to the charge, " quite different from 
 any we have here. Is it true ?" 
 
 ^' I found some^ specimens that I thought 
 valuable, in the lands of the Assiniboines and of 
 the Arramahoos." 
 
 " Would you not describe to me some of the 
 strangest you saw ? I will have them made up 
 for a ball dress. I hate to wear what everyone 
 else does. I'm sick of roses and forget-me-nots,
 
 TREASON AT HOME. 207 
 
 and lilies of the valley, and eglantine. I should 
 be so glad to have something new." 
 
 " I have some drawings at Mr. Tracey's, which 
 I should be happy to show you," replied Mr. 
 Hungerford, looking super-eminently bored, as 
 he perceived that the whole table was listening 
 to him, ^^ but really I'm sorry to say that I can't 
 undertake to describe a flower so that it could be 
 made available for the purpose you mention.'* 
 Herewith he helped himself largely to some creme 
 a la Venise, a wonderful compound, raised uppn 
 a basis of pounded chicken. 
 
 ** What a bear! " thought Mrs. Tinedale, and 
 she betook herself to listening to her neighbours. 
 
 '^ I've not seen you at any of the meets," said 
 young Renson, who now prepared himself for an 
 attack in form, addressing Edith. " I'm sure 
 you ride." 
 
 "A little." 
 
 " Oh, but it must be more than a little, if 
 you're going to be here long. And Arden, he 
 hasn't been out this season."
 
 208 TREASON AT HOME. 
 
 5> 
 
 '^ I do not know how long I shall be here, 
 said Edith. 
 
 — How painful the thought of going away had 
 become. She wished she could always stay at 
 the Hall. — She looked up and catching Walter's 
 eye, looked hastily away again. 
 
 ^'Arden rides famously ; you must get him to 
 give you lessons, to bring you into trainiug, you 
 know. Our meets are capital. It's a bore to 
 miss them." 
 
 ^' I don't think I should enjoy them," replied 
 Edith. 
 
 " Oh, but you couldn't help it, you know. 
 It's the one thing worth having : — a 
 scamper across country for hours, half the hunt 
 thrown out, only a few stragglers in at the death ; 
 it's quite glorious, you know." 
 
 ^' Is it ? " answered Edith, incredulously. 
 
 " Only a lady must have a horse that under- 
 stands his business, that won't baulk at a ditch, 
 nor hang his hind legs on a gate. Arden's 
 horses are good, but I should think rather hard
 
 TREASON AT HOME. 209 
 
 on the bit for a lady. I've a lovely little mare, 
 just the thiag for you. I should be so glad if 
 you'd let me send her over." 
 
 " You needn't be in hopes that Miss Arden is 
 in need of Patsy," said Mrs. Tinedale. '' She 
 rides Moira, and she has Mrs. Lacy's pony, too. 
 Mrs. Arden bought it two months ago." 
 
 '' Oh, but really, do you ride Moira? Then I 
 quite wonder at your saying you ride a little." 
 
 '' She is very gentle." 
 
 " Perhaps you think so, but I should have said 
 she was a perfect devil." 
 
 " Don't talk that way, Renson, you'll frighten 
 Miss Arden," said Walter, glancing at Edith. 
 
 '^All I can say is, once I said to Miss 
 Hartley that her horse seemed as tame as a cow, 
 and she asked me to change for five minutes, and 
 at the end of three I was in a ditch, and I'm not 
 particularly awkward on horseback either." 
 
 " No, that you're not," said young Arden, good 
 naturedly. " But how did it happen ? " 
 
 *^ I don't know. And there she stood looking
 
 210 TREASON AT HOME. 
 
 at me and shook her head, and kept just out of 
 reach, and led me that way a mile and a half." 
 "Who? Miss Hartley ? " asked Lady Emily. 
 '^ No, the mare. And Miss Hartley quizzed 
 me about it every time she saw me, till something 
 else put it out of her head." 
 
 ^' Yes, I am sure she gave you full measure," 
 said Mrs. Tinedale, laughing. " You should have 
 been photographed as you lay in the ditch, with 
 Moira looking at you. What a run that photo- 
 graph would have had ! I would have given two 
 guineas for one." 
 x\nd she laughed again. 
 
 " She's never easy except when she's plaguing 
 some one," said Mr. Renson, in a sulky under- 
 tone to Edith, pouring down a glass of cham- 
 pagne. 
 
 ' ' Pray do you ride every day ? " he asked, after a 
 short interval. 
 
 "- Yes, except when it rains." 
 ^' Then I shall be on the look out, At what 
 time do you usually go ? "
 
 TREASON AT HOME. 211 
 
 *' After lunch," answered Edith, secretly de- 
 termining to take all her future rides before that 
 hour. 
 
 '' Ah, then I shall have a good chance of meet- 
 ing you. It's scare ely fair, when there are so few 
 ladies, that Arden should have you all to himself.''^ 
 
 And so the dinner dragged its slow length 
 along, to the accompaniment of Mr. Renson's 
 pointless sallies and clumsy compliments, for 
 with the champagne that young gentleman's 
 courage rose. ♦ 
 
 When the ladies returned to the drawing-room, 
 Lady Tremyss sat down behind the stand upon 
 which was placed Isabel's basket, filled with 
 flowers. She bent over it a moment, then signed 
 to Edith to come to her. 
 
 " Would you be so kind as to order this basket 
 to be taken away? There is something here that 
 gives me the headache." 
 
 Edith rang and gave the desired order, then 
 ensconced herself in a recess, to rally from Mr. 
 Renson's conversation, whilst the ladies talked
 
 212 TREASON AT HOME. 
 
 chiffons, as women generally do when men are 
 not present, and occasionally when they are. 
 When the gentlemen returned from the dining- 
 room, Mr. Hungerford came towards her. Lady 
 Tremyss, who was at a little distance, rose and 
 moved away to a shaded part of the room. 
 
 Mr. Hnngerford's eye followed and dwelt upon 
 Lady Tremyss observantly. Edith perceived it. 
 
 " I never saw Lady Tremyss look as she does 
 to-night," she said, glancing at her, as she sat in 
 the shade, the diamonds on her neck and arms 
 sending forth their bright, unquiet reflections. 
 " Her features look more stern, more sharply cut 
 than I have ever seen them." 
 
 ^' A beautiful woman ; but not a beauty that 
 I admire," said Mr. Hungerford. '^ I should 
 almost think — " 
 
 He stopped. 
 
 " Think what ? " asked Edith. 
 
 " It is too wild a fancy to put into words," he 
 replied. Then turning to Mr. Tracey, who ap- 
 proached at that moment, he said.
 
 TREASON AT HOME. 213 
 
 " Do you know that you are in for a breakfast 
 to Mrs. Tinedale ? I have promised to show her 
 my drawings." 
 
 ** She shall be welcome to bachelor's fare," 
 responded Mr. Tracey, whose rabicund face and 
 rotund figure bore witness to none of the implied 
 inferiority of the culinary department of a 
 bachelor's establishment. "And will Miss Arden 
 be bribed by the drawings into doing me the 
 same honour?'' 
 
 Pressed by Mr. Hungerford, Edith accepted. 
 
 '' Two ladies already. I feel quite flattered. I 
 think we must make an affair of it, Hungerford*. 
 I don't often get such a chance." 
 
 And Mr. Tracey laughed as though he found 
 something extremely hilarious in the idea ; then 
 rolling away, he proceeded to dispense his invita- 
 tions in all quarters for breakfast the next day 
 but one. 
 
 Mr. Renson came up as Mr. Tracey retired. 
 
 " Immenselv nice flowers these are," he ob- 
 served, surveying the vases on a table near Edith.
 
 214 TREASON AT HOME. 
 
 " I suppose you are fond of flowers ; all young 
 ladies are." 
 
 *' I like every thing in its place," replied Etlith 
 coldly, a reply whereat Mr. Hungerford smiled, 
 and Mr. Renson felt uncomfortable, he did not 
 exactly know why. He glanced around the 
 room. 
 
 " How glum Arden looks to-night," he re- 
 marked, with that intuitive and quite astonishing 
 penetration which young men usually display with 
 regard to each other. " I wonder if anything has 
 gone wrong." 
 
 ''Have you been talking to him?" asked Edith, 
 half looking at him with drooping eyelashes. 
 " If so, you know more about it than I do." 
 
 *' No ; but I think I will," replied young Ren- 
 son, vaguely feeling himself in danger, and beat- 
 ing a precipitate retreat. 
 
 Mr. Hungerford laughed when Mr. Renson was 
 out of hearing. 
 
 *' Are you often so severe ?" he asked, ^' really 
 you don't look it."
 
 TREASON AT HOME. 215 
 
 " I don't like young men/' answered Edith, 
 with one of the quiet, half sarcastic smiles she 
 could give on occasion. 
 
 " I hope you except your brother. He is one of 
 the finest young fellows I ever saw." 
 
 Edith flushed a little. 
 
 '' He is only my cousin, or rather my aunt's 
 nephew/' she replied. 
 
 '^ I condole with you, then, on not having such 
 a brother." 
 
 Edith glanced at Walter. He was talking 
 with young Renson, and somebody else whose 
 name she had forgotten. — He did look very grave 
 certainly. What could be the matter with him ? — 
 
 ^' He is just as kind as if he were my brother," 
 she answered, " so I don't lose anything." 
 
 And she flushed again at the thought of all her 
 causes of gratitude to him. 
 
 As Edith turned her head, she saw Lady 
 Tremyss' eye fixed sidelong upon her and her 
 companion. There was something disagreeably 
 keen and piercing in the glance : she moved for-
 
 216 TREESON AT HOME. 
 
 ward so as to escape it, though by so doing she 
 abandoned Mr. Hungerford. She passed Walter 
 on her way towards her aunt. She hoped that 
 he would speak a word ; but no ; — he did not 
 even raise his eyes. She sat down near Mrs. 
 Arden, and remained under her wing until Walter 
 
 came up. 
 
 " Mr. Hungerford is talking in a way that you 
 would like to hear. Mrs. Tinedale has got hold 
 of him, and has drawn him out." 
 
 He led Edith to a chair near Mrs. Tinedale's 
 sofa. Mr. Hungerford was talking to her. People 
 were standing around, listening. 
 — '' I had seen from the other bank some high 
 land rising above the trees. My guides told me 
 that the stronghold of the Arramahoos was built 
 on it, so I made as straight for it as I could." 
 
 '' I should have thought you would have been 
 frightened to death," exclaimed Mrs. Tinedale. 
 
 Mr. Hungerford smiled. 
 
 *' I can't say that I felt quite at my ease. At 
 length I climbed up the rocks and got into a
 
 TREASON AT HOME. 217 
 
 deserted fort lined with wigwams. I found one 
 old Indian ill with fever ; not another soul was to 
 be seen. There was food in the different wigwams, 
 so I made myself at home. As to the old man, 
 I undertook to cure him. It wasn't particularly 
 easy as I had to force the quinine down his 
 throat, but he was grateful enough when he be- 
 gan to mend. After four or five days, the rest of 
 the tribe returned. They took my presence in 
 dudgeon, and would have made an end of me 
 had it not been for my old man. He took me 
 under his protection, and finally smuggled me 
 oflP." 
 
 " How did he manage it?" asked Mrs. Tine- 
 dale. 
 
 " He did it very cleverly. He hid me in the 
 wigwam sacred to the spirits of the dead. No 
 Indian dared come near it, so I was quite safe 
 there. It was a curious place, by the way, all 
 hung round with long locks of hair. One thing 
 that I found rather unpleasant was the seeing 
 a tress of long, reddish golden hair, and be- 
 
 VOL. !• L
 
 2J8 TREASON AT HOME. 
 
 side it some shorter black curls, both European, 
 I am convinced." 
 
 " How could they have come there ?" asked Mrs. 
 Tindale. 
 
 " My old man told me that they belonged to a 
 white man and woman who had come to the tribe 
 many moons ago, and had died not long after 
 their arrival. After their death, locks of their 
 hair had been hung up as the customary peace 
 offering to Manitou." 
 
 " And is that all you know ?" inquired Edith. 
 
 " Every syllable. The old man succeeded in 
 smuggling me across the river, and that is the 
 last I have seen of the Arramahoos," said Mr. 
 Hungerford, who seemed of opinion that he had 
 absorbed the attention of the company long 
 enough. He got up and went to talk to 
 Mrs. Arden ; Edith was consequently obliged 
 to resign herself to be talked to by people she did 
 not care about, for the rest of the evening; en- 
 during, tant bien que mal, the tedium of a country 
 dinner party.
 
 TREASON AT HOME. 219 
 
 As the last carriage rolled away, Walter came 
 back into the drawing-room. 
 
 *' It went off very well, 1 think ; very well," 
 said Mrs. Arden, in the satisfied tone of a hostess 
 who has done her duty, and feels that nothing 
 more will be expected of her for six weeks to 
 come. 
 
 " Yes, it was very nice," answered Edith, for- 
 tunately oblivious, for the moment, of all save 
 the traveller. " Mr. Hungerford is delightful ; but, 
 Walter, I am afraid you have not been enjoying 
 yourself." 
 
 " Why, what's the matter?" said Mrs. Arden, 
 suddenly turning upon her nephew. 
 
 " I know," said Edith. 
 
 " What is it then, my dear ?" 
 
 " He has a headache. He is pale ; don't you 
 see it?" 
 
 " And that champagne won't make it any 
 better," responded Mrs. Arden reproachfully. 
 '*How could you taste it, Walter, with a headache?" 
 
 Walter, after a rapid survey of circumstances, 
 
 L 2
 
 220 TREASON AT HOME. 
 
 thought it better to let it pass as a headache. 
 And this he did; nor, engrossed as his mind 
 was by its new emotions, did that evening's con- 
 versation again return to his memory, until re- 
 called by circumstances which he was at that 
 time very far from anticipating.
 
 TREASON AT HOME. 221 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 Isabel made her appearance on the following 
 morning somewhat later than usual. 
 
 "What do you think?" washer greeting to 
 Edith. " I want to do something, and Mamma 
 won't let me! She actually said no ! " Isabel's 
 face expressed the profoundest astonishment. 
 
 "Is it the first time she ever said so ?" asked 
 Edith. 
 
 " The very first time in my life. I can't 
 understand it at all." 
 
 She sat down, looking greatly disconcerted. 
 
 " What was it about ?" 
 
 " This morning a note came from Mr. Tracey 
 to me asking me to go to his breakfast with 
 Mamma, and saying that I should see Mr. Hun-
 
 222 TREASON AT HOME. 
 
 gerford's drawings. I wanted to go because he's 
 a dear old soul and I love him ; and, besides, I 
 wish to see the drawings. I told Mamma 
 so, and she said that she had changed her mind, 
 (for she had accepted, you know), and wasn't 
 going. Then I said I should like to go with 
 Mrs. Arden and you — and she said ^ No ! '" 
 
 " Did she give you no reason? Didn't she 
 talk with you about it ?" 
 
 ^* Mamma ? She never talks to me. I talk to 
 her, and she answers." 
 
 ^' With whom does she talk, then?" asked 
 Edith, surprised. She had supposed that Isabel 
 and her mother were on the same terms as other 
 mothers and daughters. 
 
 '' She never talks to anybody. She doesn't 
 like to talk." 
 
 ^* How does she spend her time?" pursued 
 Edith, who was in an investigating mood. 
 
 " She embroiders almost all the time ; some- 
 times she reads. When there's any new book of 
 travels sent down, she reads that."
 
 TREASON AT HOME. 223 
 
 " And she rides?'* 
 
 " Oh, yes. She hates driving, but we ride 
 together every day about sunset, you know." 
 
 " I must not forget to tell you," inter- 
 rupted Edith. " I am going to take all my rides 
 after breakfast in future." 
 
 *^ Then I shall come in the afternoon. But 
 why do you change ?*"* 
 
 " Mr. Renson wants to ride with us." 
 
 " Does he want to get on Moira again?" in- 
 quired Isabel, her eyes sparkling mischievously.* 
 
 *^ I fancy not. He told us of his mishap, and 
 how you laughed at him." 
 
 ^' He was made to be laughed at. Why, do 
 you know, he used to be such a figure before he 
 had Storrord ! Once I counted the stripes on his 
 trousers. It didn't take long, there were only 
 two and a half all the way down. And he wore 
 red neckcloths and yellow waistcoats." 
 
 " He was dressed like any one else last night." 
 
 *^ Oh, but I told you Storrord keeps him in 
 capital order."
 
 224 TREASON AT HOME. 
 
 " Who is Storrord ?'' 
 
 " His valet. He used to be Sir Ralph's. I 
 was glad to have him go. He always looked like 
 a Jesuit in disguise. Melvil used to say that he 
 heard through the doors and walls. He knew 
 everything. All the servants were afraid of him, 
 except Goliath." 
 
 " I am so sorry you can't go to-morrow," said 
 Edith, who did not care to think of Goliath. 
 
 "Yes. But there is one good side to it. 
 Mamma told me to invite you to come and dine 
 at the Park the next day, I suppose to console 
 me, for I was immensely disappointed. You 
 must come. I've been here almost everyday 
 since you were ill, and j^ou've only been once to 
 see me." 
 
 Accustomed as Edith was to the modern ele- 
 gance of Arc! en Court, and the old-fashioned 
 comfort of the Hall, the formal magnificence of 
 the Park rather oppressed her. Its length of 
 dark corridors, its endless ranges of rooms, — some
 
 TREASON AT HOME. 225 
 
 of them never used, but, like all the rest, kept 
 in scrupulous order, — filled with antique plenish- 
 ing, and shown in detail by Isabel, who seemed 
 determined to make her friend as well acquainted 
 with the premises as she was herself, rather de- 
 pressed Edith ; they suggested all sorts of gloomy 
 fancies, the more depressing, perhaps, because so 
 utterly unshared by her companion. At last she 
 expressed an unwillingness to explore any fur- 
 ther, and proposed a return to Isabel's own 
 room. • 
 
 ^' One moment/' said Isabel, unclosing a door. 
 "• I want you to see Lady Anne's chamber." 
 
 She drew Edith within a room larger and more 
 richly furnished than any they had seen. 
 
 " This is very handsome," said Edith, looking 
 at the satin bed in its tarnished gilt alcove, the 
 toilette glass of chiselled silver, the ebony ward- 
 robe whereon was carved St. Michael struggling 
 with the fiend, and the stained glass in the oriel 
 window which projected boldly over the terrace. 
 *^ I should think it would still be used." 
 
 L 5
 
 226 TREASON AT HOME. 
 
 " It hasn't been used for two hundred and fifty 
 years," replied Isabel, impressively, '^not since 
 Lady Anne died in that bed." 
 
 *' But why?" asked Edith, glancing at the 
 alcove. It was not precisely agreeable to be 
 brought in fancy so near the long vanished 
 occupant. 
 
 '' Why ? Because she murdered her husband 
 in this very room. Sit down and I'll tell you 
 about it." 
 
 She drew Edith to a great yellow easy chair, 
 and sat down on the floor before her. 
 
 '* Lady Anne was a great heiress, you must 
 know, and a very haughty sort of woman. She 
 had refused numbers of lovers, but at length she 
 married Sir Hilary, who wasn't a particularly good 
 sort of man. She was dreadfully jealous of him, 
 but it was ever so long before she found out any- 
 thing. However, one evening she was sitting in 
 that window, and she looked out and saw Sir 
 Hilary walking cautiously down the terrace. He 
 turned the corner of the house, after looking all
 
 TREASON AT HOME. 227 
 
 around as if to be sure that nobody saw bim. 
 Lady Anne hurried along the gallery, and looked 
 out of a loop hole in the tower at the end, and 
 there he was talking with one of her women, and 
 she saw him kiss her. Then she went back and sat 
 down again as if nothing had happened. And 
 that night she poisoned Sir Hilary, and every- 
 body thought he had died in a fit ; but what she 
 did to the maid was worse. She took her into a 
 lonely room, and tied her hand and foot, and 
 locked her up in a closet, and starved her to death. 
 Then she took away the key of the room, and no- 
 body ever found it out till after Lady Anne was 
 dead." 
 
 ^' How did they find it out, then?" asked 
 Edith. 
 
 '' If you will believe it, she had left a written 
 confession of the whole in that wardrobe, where 
 they found it after she was dead." 
 
 '* I can imagine that the solitude of her crime 
 was too much to bear," replied Edith, thought- 
 fully ; then rising quickly, " I don't want to think
 
 228 TREASON AT HOME. 
 
 how she felt," she said. ^* It seems to make me 
 feel wicked too." 
 
 " You wicked !" said Isabel, rising to her knees, 
 and gazing steadfastly into Edith's face. " You 
 couldn't feel wicked if you tried — I wish I 
 couldn't." 
 
 She turned away, and walked with Edith 
 silently down the gallery to her own room. 
 
 " What do you mean by saying you might feel 
 wicked ?" said Edith, seating herself caressingly 
 by Isabel. 
 
 '' You couldn't understand," replied Isabel, 
 turning away her face. 
 
 " I am fond of you, and that would help me to 
 understand," answered Edith. 
 
 '^ Are you really, really fond of me ?" exclaimed 
 Isabel, throwing her arms around Edith. 
 
 ^'Yes." 
 
 " And you won't think the worse of me?" 
 
 " How unjust that would be." 
 
 " Then I'll tell you. — Sometimes I feel as if I 
 should stifle to death, as if I should die. I long
 
 TKEASON AT HOME. 229 
 
 to tear this life from me, and to rush forth I 
 don't know where. I dream of great plains and 
 snow fields, and of being borne across them like 
 the wind, and there is fire in me and I feel no 
 cold. I want to be free. I don't want to be 
 good and go to church and live among quiet 
 people. I want, — oh, I don't know what I want," 
 
 And Isabel threw herself down, pressed her 
 face into Edith^s lap, and burst into a passion of 
 tears. 
 
 The wild words, the stormy self-abandonmeni, 
 awoke a responsive trouble in Edith's thoughts. 
 Hitherto unfelt chords within her vibrated to 
 Isabel's impetuous, imploring voice. — What could 
 she say to her? — She could think of nothing. 
 Eefore she knew it her own tears were flowing, 
 she could not tell why. 
 
 The unreasoning sympathy seemed to calm 
 Isabel. She rose from her position, and sat 
 quietly down beside Edith. They had not yet 
 spoken when the dinner bell rang. 
 
 " Oh, there's dinner. Do I look as if I had
 
 230 TREASON AT HOME. 
 
 been crying ?" exclaimed Isabel, running to the 
 glass ; then turning to Edith, she displayed her 
 brilliant colour and hazel eyes, as fresh and bright 
 as if she had never shed a tear. 
 
 '' Come — I did not hear the first bell, did you? 
 We were in the old rooms, I fancy." 
 
 She hurried with Edith down the gallery. 
 
 Edith's heart rather failed her as she entered 
 the great dining-room, the same where she and 
 Isabel had chased the mole, and where, lifting the 
 carpet, they had seen that dark, wide-spreading 
 stain. She glanced at the spot. Upon it stood 
 Goliath with his Herculean form and ghastly 
 scar. She was internally thankful that she was 
 placed at table so that he was not within her 
 sight. 
 
 Ii^abel's mood had changed. She chattered with- 
 out cessation during the whole of the dinner, 
 she told the most absurdly improbable stories, 
 most of them invented expressly for the occasion; 
 she mimicked all her acquaintance in turn, and 
 ended with a charity sermon from the rector,
 
 TREASON AT HOME. 231 
 
 delivered with such ludicrous accuracy of iniita- 
 tion as to send the statue-like footmen into 
 inward agonies, and to bring a smile over the 
 grim visage of Goliath. 
 
 Edith was in momentary expectation that 
 Isabel would receive some reproof from Lady 
 Tremyss, but no word of counsel or disapproba- 
 tion crossed her hostess's lips. She sat a quiet 
 spectator of her daughter's vagaries, without in 
 any way attempting to check them. 
 
 At length 1 sabel talked herself out, as she ex- 
 pressed it, and applying to Edith, demanded an 
 exact account of the breakfast at Mr. Tracey's. 
 
 ^' It was very pleasant indeed/' answered Edith. 
 
 ^' Yes, but that isn't enough. You must 
 begin at the beginning. Who were there ?" 
 
 " Every one, excepting Lady Tremyss, who 
 was at the Hall, and quite a number of people 
 beside." 
 
 '' There couldn't have been any dancing, of 
 course," said Isabel. " T love dancing. Mamma, 
 when I'm seventeen you must give a ball."
 
 232 TREASON AT HOME. 
 
 " If you wish it," replied Lady Tremyss. 
 
 '' I never thought of it before, but 1 do wish 
 it, and you're a love to say I may have it ; but 
 we'll talk about that by-and-by; — now we'll 
 listen to the breakfast." 
 
 " As soon as breakfast was over we went into 
 the drawing-room, and Mr. Hungerford showed 
 us his drawings." 
 
 " Were they very beautiful? Mr. Tracey said 
 they were quite different from anything in Eng- 
 land. Is it true ?" 
 
 '' Yes, quite." 
 
 " I wish I had seen them. Did you ever see 
 any like them before ?" 
 
 Edith hesitated. She had seen some flowers 
 like Mr. Hungerford's before, but an inexplicable 
 unwillingness made her reluctant to say where. 
 She had intended to tell Isabel, but now that she 
 was with her and her mother, she felt her tongue 
 tied. 
 
 " Yes, you have, I see. Where were they?" 
 
 " I thought some of ^them were like the
 
 TREASON AT HOME. 233 
 
 flowers on your basket," she answered reluc- 
 tantly. 
 
 "What, the flowers Mamma drew? How 
 strange. Why Mamma, how learned you are ! 
 Where did you find them ?" 
 
 '' There are some e ng ravings in the library that 
 you can look at with Miss Arden, after dinner. 
 Perhaps those are like Mr. Hungerford's." 
 
 " I never saw them," answered Isabel, ** Where 
 are they ?" 
 
 " On the highest shelf, between the windows." 
 
 " Oh, I can't reach there ; the steps are not 
 tall enough for me ; but I'll have them got 
 down. It is odd they should be there. All the 
 other engravings are below." 
 
 As soon as they rose from table, Isabel led 
 Edith into the library. 
 
 It was a large room, so dark in its colouring 
 that the light of the fire and of the two wax 
 candles that stood in solemn solitude on the great 
 green table, did but illuminate a small circle of 
 the surrounding space. Their rays, brightly pro-
 
 234 TREASON AT HOME. 
 
 jected at first, soon died away, leaving in shadow 
 the great bookcases with their piled-up treasures, 
 and the bronze busts which looked gravely down 
 from the top of their heavy cornices. Edith 
 wondered, as she looked round, whether Sir Ralph 
 used often to sit there, and what books he used 
 to read. 
 
 Isabel answered the unexpressed question. 
 
 " I don't often come here. It is the only place 
 in the house that makes me think of Sir Ralph. 
 He was always shut up here, poring over his 
 books, while Mamma sat at her embroidery in 
 that window. One day I climbed up and peeped 
 in at the other window as I went down the 
 terrace. He wasn't reading, he was staring at 
 her. She didn't see him. He had on such a 
 face !" 
 
 <^ What sort of face?" 
 
 " He had bitten his lip till it was white, and 
 his brows were all scowling ; and as I was peep- 
 ing I saw him pass his hand across his forehead 
 two or three times, as if he couldn't bear what
 
 TREASON AT HOME. 235 
 
 he was thinking about. It was queer, for 
 Mamma looked handsomer than ever that day. 
 She was dressed in white, and I had stuck a red 
 rose in her hair when she went down." 
 
 ^' Then you used to have her with you some- 
 times ?" 
 
 " Oh, yes. She always came into my room, 
 and had her hair done there, and sat with me while 
 I took my breakfast, before she went down. After 
 breakfast she used to sit with him a while, and 
 then she would come upstairs and stay with me 
 ever so long. I know he didn't like it. Storrord 
 told Melvil that he had heard Sir Ealph curse 
 awfully at me when Mamma was with me and 
 he thought nobody heard him, but he never pre- 
 vented it. I don't believe he would have dared 
 to try. He always seemed afraid of Mamma." 
 
 " Afraid of his own wife !" 
 
 " He never could bear to have her look at him, 
 so the servants said. I don't know much about 
 it. I was never with them. But I know that he 
 never, even at table, sat opposite to her, though
 
 236 TREASON AT HOME. 
 
 he used to keep her beside him as much as he 
 could." 
 
 " How very peculiar," Edith remarked. 
 
 " Yes, it was one of his whims. He was full of 
 them. He hated the dark. The house used 
 always to be lighted before sunset. Anybody 
 would have said he thought there were ghosts in 
 it. But I'm forgetting what we came for. Now 
 let us see the engravings." 
 
 The portfolio of engravings was brought from 
 the shelf. It was a very old one, and the engrav- 
 ings were spotted and defaced as if by age. 
 They represented birds and flowers grouped 
 together. 
 
 " Many of these are like Mr. Hungerford's," 
 said Edith; *^ and see, here is the scarlet flower 
 on your basket, and there, look — is not that the 
 white, crown-shaped one ?" 
 
 '' Oh, yes, and I know this one, and this, 
 and this, " exclaimed Isabel, rapidly turning 
 them over ; " and these birds. Why, Mamma is 
 embroidering some of them now. There's her
 
 TREASON AT HOME. 237 
 
 blue bird, and her crimson-breasted bird, and 
 her hawk. Come and see." 
 
 She hurried Edith into the drawing-room, 
 where, by a stand with candles. Lady Tremyss 
 sat bending over a frame. 
 
 "Oh, Mamma, we've found your birds; I 
 want Edith to see them. Look." 
 
 Turning back the frame, she displayed a group 
 of singular force of design and colouring. A blue 
 jay had swooped upon an oriole, which, mortally 
 wounded, its feathers torn, was dying in its 
 assailant's grasp ; while above, a black hawk, 
 with closed wings and inverted head, was drop-* 
 ping unseen upon the victorious marauder. 
 
 '' How life-like that is. I can hear the poor 
 bird's last gasp./' said Edith, compassionately. 
 "How treacherous and cruel the blue bird 
 looks. I am glad the black hawk is near," she 
 added, with a sudden change of tone. 
 
 A long ray of light shot from Lady Tremyss ' 
 eye ; then she silently returned the frame to its 
 place, and bent over it again.
 
 238 TREASON AT HOME. 
 
 '' Now let us finish looking over the engrav- 
 ings," said Isabel. 
 
 They went back to the library. 
 As they turned over the last sheet, Isabel 
 pushed aside the portfolio. 
 
 " Now that we have seen those and found out 
 where Mamma gets her designs, let us talk about 
 the ball. This house will be nice for it, 
 won't it ? We can have how many rooms open ? 
 There's the hall — but that won't count —the 
 drawing-room, the dining-room, the library, and 
 the dancing-room — that's four. That's enough, 
 I think." 
 
 Edith agreed that it would be enough. 
 '^ I don't mean to have flowers everywhere," 
 continued Isabel. " I won't have the house look 
 as if it were all conservatory. That would not 
 be in Us style at all. I will have the rooms just 
 as they are, only as light as day ; all but the 
 dancing-room. I mean to have that filled with 
 flowers. But you haven't seen it. I'll show it 
 to you.' 
 
 >>
 
 TREASON AT HOME. 239 
 
 Isabel tried to open a door. It was 
 locked. She rang for the key. The door was 
 unclosed. A long black vista lay beyond. She 
 took one of the candlesticks from the table, and, 
 calling to Edith to follow her, advanced into the 
 room. 
 
 It had the chilly and ghostlike look of all un- 
 inhabited apartments. It was of great length, 
 but not of corresponding height. At intervals 
 along the walls were placed mirrors ; the floor 
 was of polished oak. • 
 
 " Wont it be nice for dancing ? " exclaimed 
 Isabel. ^' See, there are the guests already coming 
 to meet us." 
 
 She smiled and nodded to the multiplied 
 reflections of her figure in the mirrors around. 
 The reflections, coming out of the darkness beyond, 
 smiled and nodded back with a strange, unreal 
 mirth. 
 
 Isabel set the candlestick upon the ground. 
 
 '* Come, let us waltz once round to see how 
 nice it will be when it is all full of flowers and 
 music and people."
 
 240 TREASON AT HOME. 
 
 And catching Edith around the waist, she 
 whirled her about the room till they were forced 
 to stop from want of breath. 
 
 As Isabel released her, Edith staggered back 
 and leaned against the wall. 
 
 " Oh ! " exclaimed Isabel, penitently, " I 
 hope I haven't tired you out." 
 
 " I am only a little giddy. It will pass in a 
 moment," replied Edith. " But what is that 
 sound ? " she said, after a moment's pause, stand- 
 ing up erect. 
 
 Isabel laid her head where Edith's had rested. 
 There was a sound as of distant hammering. 
 
 '^ Why, where can it be ? It can't come from 
 upstairs — the picture gallery is over this room, 
 Nor from the cellars, for they are under another 
 part of the house." 
 
 " If it were from upstairs, it would sound 
 nearer," said Edith. " It seems a great way off." 
 
 " I'll call Mamma," said Isabel. " Perhaps 
 it's the ghost of Lady Anne's maid." 
 
 She ran away to summon her mother. 
 
 Lady Tremyss came gliding in her sweeping
 
 TIIEASON AT HOME. 241 
 
 black dress, up the length of the room. She 
 stood where Edith had stood, and listened. 
 
 " Send Goliath," she said; "but Isabel, Miss 
 Arden and you must not stay here any longer ; 
 you will both take cold." 
 
 The girls returned to the library. 
 
 As Goliath approached his mistress, she 
 pointed to the wall. 
 
 " Stand there. Do 3^0 u hear that? It must 
 be stopped." 
 
 " I have tried. It cannot be helped, my 
 lady," 
 
 Lady Tremyss, followed by Goliath, left th* 
 dancinsf-room without another word. 
 
 " What is it, Mamma ?" asked Isabel, as her 
 mother passed through the library. 
 
 " Rats," Lady Tremyss answered. 
 
 VOL. 1. M
 
 242 TREASON AT HOME. 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 In such natures as Edith Arden's, it is suiFering 
 only that awakens passion. As yet she dwelt in 
 the tranquil world of sentiment. Not from any 
 lack of native force. The vivid eye, the thin 
 nostril, the deeply cut lips, all revealed a latent 
 strength capable of being stimulated into vehe- 
 mence ; but that strength lay sleeping in the quiet 
 recesses within. 
 
 So the autumn days passed on, each hour bring- 
 ing her unconsciously closer to Walter, her un- 
 failing companion in her rides and walks and 
 drives. She forgot her dreary childhood, its 
 loneliness, its grief; she did not remember the 
 separation from the Hall, which must inevitably
 
 TREASON AT HOME. 243 
 
 t 
 
 come at last ; no cloud cast its shadow over that 
 golden spring time of her life. Edith was 
 happy. 
 
 One result of the morning rides referred to 
 was, to bring Isabel to the Hall in the afternoon, 
 and consequently to throw her much into Walter's 
 society. 
 
 In young Arden's newly awakened tenderness, 
 his tone had become gentler io all; and it 
 scarcely needed Edith's warmly expressed con- 
 viction that Isabel possessed much more feeling 
 and mind than she was in the habit of showing, 
 to sensibly modify his tone towards her. His 
 respect for what Edith esteemed, was heightened 
 into something very like friendship, by his sym- 
 pathy with Isabel's adoring affection. 
 
 So Isabel came over each afternoon, and sat 
 with Edith, and listened while Walter read aloud 
 or talked, and grew quieter and gentler every 
 day. Her intellect seemed to have received some 
 sudden impetus. It developed rapidly. Her 
 very appearance began to change. Her eyes
 
 244 TREASON AT HOME, 
 
 grew deeper, her smile became less frequent, and 
 more thoughtful. Her former glitter and glow 
 was settling into a steadier lustre, more grateful 
 to eye and sense. 
 
 Some weeks had thus passed, when Edith be- 
 came aware of Isabel's possession of a talent 
 whose existence she had not suspected. She had 
 several times, in the earlier days of their ac- 
 quaintance, asked her for music. Isabel had 
 always refused, excusing herself on various pleas, 
 till Edith had almost forgotten that she had the 
 power. 
 
 One afternoon Isabel had been unusually 
 serious. Walter was away ; she was alone with 
 Edith. After sitting a while silent, she opened 
 the pianoforte and began to play. Edith laid 
 down her book, and listened with a mixture of 
 surprise and delight, which gradually changed 
 into distress. Isabel was playing Russian airs, 
 full of sighing disquiet, of restless pain. 
 
 The sun had sunk behind a cloud, a melancholy 
 wind was sighing through the trees ; its mourn-
 
 TREASON AT HOME. 245 
 
 ful symphony filled up the pauses of Isabel's 
 wordless plaint. 
 
 " Oh, hush ; I can't bear it ; I can't bear it ! '* 
 Edith at last passionately exclaimed. 
 
 Isabel paused, and leaning her head upon the 
 pianoforte, sat without speaking; for the first 
 time heedless of her friend. Then she left the in- 
 strument and glided away, pressing a kiss upon 
 Edith's forehead as she passed the sofa where she 
 lay, her face buried in her hands. 
 
 No sooner was Isabel gone than Edith rose, 
 hurried into her own room, locked the door, and 
 sat down to think. Her cheeks were burning;, 
 her heart was trobbing. — What had she felt! 
 what had she thought ! She had longed to turn 
 from the yearning entreaty of the music, to turn 
 and throw herself on Walter's breast ! — 
 
 The wind had risen and brought with it clouds, 
 heavy and storm laden. For three days the rain 
 fell without intc mission, lashing the panes, and 
 sweeping wiluly away over the lawn. 
 
 Walter had hoped for still more unbroken cora- 
 
 M 3
 
 246 TREASON AT HOME. 
 
 panionship with Edith, now that they were 
 fellow prisoners in the Hall, but to his surprise 
 and displeasure she evinced a sudden preference 
 for his aunt's societ5^ She clung persistently to 
 Mrs. Arden's side, and tacitly refused all con- 
 tinuance of that solitary converse with him which 
 had recently formed so great a pleasure in his 
 life. 
 
 Mrs. Arden came to the conclusion that Edith 
 was getting a little tired of being so much with 
 Walter, and did her best to amuse her, secretly 
 wishing that the weather would clear up and 
 bring Isabel. She liked Isabel much better now 
 that she was quieter, and could sit still and talk 
 like a reasonable being. 
 
 On the fourth day the rain ceased, the wind 
 fell, the sun shone out, and brought Isabel, de- 
 lighted at her release from the Park. 
 
 **My dear," said Mrs. Arden to Edith, ^' I 
 think you had better put on your habit and take 
 a little ride with Isabel, I do indeed. You're 
 not looking quite so well as you did, and as I
 
 TREASON AT HOME. 247 
 
 like to see you. I know what you want, but 
 there's no use thinking of that," she added, re- 
 gretfully, "and so you'd better go out, you 
 really had, to ride. Walter will go too, I dare 
 say. It will do you good to get a little fresh 
 air." 
 
 " Yes, do come. It is warm as midsummer," 
 added Isabel. 
 
 The horses were ordered, and they left the Hall. 
 They rode through the wooded lanes, already 
 beginning to dry, but in their deep gullies and 
 tiny water- courses showing how violent had been 
 the recent storm. The trunks of the trees were 
 dark with moisture, and ever and anon a few lin- 
 gering drops fell on the heads of the riders, as 
 a startled bird sprang from some little bough 
 above them. The sun shot long, slanting rays 
 of light over the vivid green of the fields, and 
 sprinkled golden dust upon the crumbling ridges 
 of the ploughed lands. 
 
 They rode on for a while almost in silence, en- 
 joying tlie subdued beauty of the scene and the
 
 248 TREASON AT HOME. 
 
 warmtli of the sunny air. At length Isabel sud- 
 denly exclaimed, 
 
 " I knew I had something to tell you. Just 
 fancy, Mamma won't have the dancing-room 
 used !" 
 
 ** That's a pity," replied Edith; " it is such a 
 nice room." 
 
 " Yes. I had set my heart on it, and I never 
 imagined I couldn't have it; but this morning 
 when I asked Mamma how many camellias we 
 should want for it, she said it was not to be 
 thrown open, but that the dancing would be 
 in the great room opening out of the dining- 
 room." 
 
 " I dare say it will do quite as well," responded 
 Edith, consolingly. 
 
 " Oh, but I assure you you're mistaken ! It 
 hasn't any mirrors at all, and a dancing-room 
 needs them, it is so very strange — Mamma has 
 contradicted me twice lately, once about the 
 breakfast, and now about this. I can't think 
 what it means."
 
 TREASON AT HOME. 249 
 
 They had reached the river as she was speaking, 
 and were crossing the bridge. 
 
 *' Look there !" exclaimed Isabel, interrupting 
 herself. She laughed and pointed with her riding 
 whip. ^' Just look at their funny little heads." 
 
 Edith looked, and saw not far from them a 
 
 number of children's faces looking up from the 
 
 river, with staring eyes and laughing mouths. 
 
 The little bathers had crouched under the water 
 
 until the party should have past by. 
 
 " Little rascals, they oughtn't to be there,*' 
 said Walter. "• The river is very full, and — " 
 
 Shrill cries rose as he spoke, from the water 
 two little pink arms were seen struggling wildly 
 a moment, then they disappeared. 
 
 Walter leaped from his horse, threw aside his 
 coat and boots, and sprang on the parapet. He 
 stood for an instant, the noble proportions of his 
 figure displayed against the sky. The little head 
 appeared an instant, then sank again. Walter 
 plunged in. As he flung himself down, all the
 
 250 TREASON AT HOME. 
 
 colour left Edith's cheeks and lips. She closed 
 her eyes. Isabel urged her horse close to the 
 parapet, and leaned over, watching the swimmer. 
 The child rose twice again before he could reach 
 him. As he sank the third time, young Arden 
 dived. He re-appeared, bearing a helpless little 
 burden. 
 
 It was hard work, swimming with one hand 
 against a river running like a mill-course ; but 
 he gained the bank, and gave his insensible 
 charge into the hands of a woman who came 
 running from a cottage on the bank. 
 
 After assuring himself that the child had 
 received no harm, Walter returned to his com- 
 panions. Edith received him in silence ; Isabel, 
 with a few hurried words, held out the reins of 
 his horse. 
 
 " Much obliged," he said gaily, hastily re- 
 suming his discarded articles of attire, and 
 springing into the saddle. ^' It's lucky that 
 Roy didn't take himself off. What an opportu-
 
 TREASON AT HOME. 251 
 
 nity he lost !" He laughed, and patted the 
 horse's neck. Isabel thought she had never seen 
 him look half so handsome. 
 
 The groom came leisurely into sight at that 
 moment. Setting spurs to his horse, he galloped 
 up. 
 
 '^ Now I shall go home, and you will go back 
 with Edith. She looks ready to faint." 
 
 Isabel struck her horse a sharp blow, and 
 dashed away, followed by the groom. 
 
 '* Were you frightened ?" said Walter, bending 
 over Edith's saddle-bow, as they turned their 
 horses' heads homeward. 
 
 '' I, — yes, — no, — I mean I was afraid the little 
 boy would be drowned," replied Edith, with that 
 instinctive duplicity with which even the most 
 candid of her sex will seek to hide her emotions 
 from him who is the cause of them. 
 
 Walter, thus repulsed, rode on beside her 
 without a word, until they reached the Hall. 
 
 Mrs. Arden was sitting reading at the drawing- 
 room window. She came out in tremulous haste.
 
 252 TREASON AT HOME. 
 
 '' Ohj Walter! dear, dear me, what is the 
 matter ? You're all dripping wet. What is it ? 
 Tell me quick. Are you sure you aren't hurt ? 
 Where have you been?" 
 
 " Picking a little boy out of the river — that's 
 all," he answered, rather gruffly, lifting Edith 
 from her saddle. 
 
 '^ Oh, what a dreadful risk ! Was there any 
 danger ? Tm sure there was. I'm trembling all 
 over, only thinking of it. And what would have 
 become of me if anything had happened to you ! 
 Oh, Walter, Walter ! But where's Edith ?" 
 
 Edith had disappeared. 
 
 END OF VOL. I. 
 
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