^ ^ ..^.^...x^^^ 
 
 H,^ 
 
 
 ^ 
 
 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 
 
 VOL. I.
 
 TRIALS OF AN- HEIRESS. 
 
 BY 
 
 THE HON. MRS. G. R. GIFFORD. 
 
 Ed io pur vivo." 
 
 IN THREE VOLUMES. 
 VOL. L 
 
 LONDON: 
 HURST AND BLACKETT, PUBLISHERS, 
 
 13, GREAT MARLBOROUGH STREET. 
 
 1869. 
 
 The right of Translation is reserved.
 
 LONDON : 
 
 PRINTED BY MACDONALD AND TUGWELL, BLENHEIM HOUSE, 
 
 BLENHEIM STREET, OXFORD STREET.
 
 ?A3 
 
 TO 
 
 > 
 
 MY MOTHER 
 
 "4 
 
 THIS WORK 
 
 X' 
 
 IS 
 
 . 
 
 AFFECTIONATELY DEDICATED. 
 
 
 
 
 
 J 
 
 
 
 
 4" 
 
 
 4 
 
 V 
 
 4 

 
 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS, 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 " Ed io pur vivo !" 
 
 Petrarch. 
 
 TT is now nearly five-and- twenty years 
 
 -■- ago, since a dark, spare, military-look- 
 ing man, whom most people would have 
 called elderly at the first glance, and with a 
 halt in his walk, "disembarked," as the 
 French say, at a rustic station on the outskirts 
 of the Marchmont estate. 
 
 The station-master, a portly and import- 
 ant personage, a former dependant, and pre- 
 sent pensioner on the bounty of the Hall, 
 did not bear the stamp of official capacity 
 with which modern times have made us 
 familiar. He had outlived the " day " of 
 which the more prosperous members of the 
 
 VOL. I. B
 
 2 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 
 
 canine family are supposed to afford an apt 
 illustration ; and carried a certain amount of 
 individual interest into the duties of his of- 
 fice, believing more implicitly in the grandeur 
 of " the family " whom he and his fathers had 
 served, than in the impalpable force repre- 
 sented by the " Company," whose paid ser- 
 vant he had become. 
 
 So far indeed had he been known to carry 
 this preference, as to have exclaimed, when 
 closely pressed to the observance of some 
 duty in that omnipotent name, " Drat the 
 ^Company,' sir. rm not going to keep our 
 Squire a-waiting." He contrived also to 
 carry a certain amount of individual interest 
 into the duties of his profession, and fre- 
 quently gave the rein to curiosity with re- 
 gard to the ticket renderers as in the pre- 
 sent instance. 
 
 " Are you for the Hall, your honour ?" he 
 asked, with a mechanical movement of his 
 right hand towards the official cap ; but to 
 this home question, the strange gentleman, 
 who appeared engrossed in thought, made 
 no immediate reply.
 
 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 6 
 
 After a pause, during whicli he had him- 
 self carefully removed his luggage, consist- 
 ing of an old worn portmanteau, a travel- 
 ling bag, and a Russia leather writing-case of 
 antique fashion, from the platform to the 
 ticket-office, the gentleman asked abruptly, 
 and without turning his face towards the 
 person addressed, 
 
 ^' Is there any fly or trap to be had from 
 the Marchmont Arms ? I am going to put 
 up there for a night or two." 
 
 " Your honour knows the Marchmont 
 Arms?" 
 
 " I know nothing — I am a stranger here 
 — ^but if there is no conveyance to be had I 
 must walk, and " 
 
 " Have a care, sir, them steps is awkward 
 for a gentleman of your honour's years," 
 here interrupted the station-master, as the 
 traveller, with his writing-case in his hand, 
 prepared to descend the steps which led 
 from the station into the old road to the 
 \dllage — " it's a goodish step, too, for you 
 to walk, sir," he added reflectively. 
 
 ^' my years, and answer my ques- 
 
 B 2
 
 4 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 
 
 tion," was the fierce rejoinder to the re- 
 mark. ^'Is there a fly or trap to be had, or 
 is there not ?" 
 
 "No, surely — leastways not to-day. The 
 doctor from London had the 'Arms' fly, 
 with the old grey mare ; and there's nurr 
 another trap to be had about here. Folks 
 are saying as the Squire might ha' sent his 
 own horses — but that ain't no business of 
 mine." 
 
 "What is the matter at the Hall, my 
 good man ?" asked the stranger, as the dark 
 flush of anger, which the old man's garrulity 
 had called up, died out of his cheek. " Who 
 is ill there ?" 
 
 " It's the lady, your honour — my mis- 
 tress as was. She's mortal bad this time they 
 tell me." 
 
 " Look after my luggage — I will find my 
 way by the old road — it's one I have trod- 
 den before this " 
 
 The last clause in the sentence was the 
 lowly muttered soliloquy of one who had but 
 just declared himself " a stranger " in those 
 parts ; and the melancholy which was the
 
 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 5 
 
 natural expression of his countenance in 
 repose, settled over his features, and over 
 the eagle eye, which 
 
 " checked low mirth, 
 Yet lacked not sympathy." 
 
 It was a grey autumn evening. Rain had 
 fallen in the earlier part of the day, and the 
 dark leaves lay in the profusion of nature's 
 waste, rotting under the avenue which had 
 once formed the principal approach to the 
 Hall. The "new drive," as it was still 
 called by courtesy, had been the work of an 
 ancestor, who had flourished in the time of 
 the " gay, gouty old bachelor," Horace Wal- 
 pole, who did so much in grafting false taste 
 and meretricious adornment, upon the sim- 
 ple grandeur of the relics of the feudal 
 ages. 
 
 The old road had recently been converted 
 into the " station road," by the proprietor of 
 the lands through which the new line of rail 
 had been carried — Squire Marchmont, of 
 Marchmont Hall. 
 
 It had been in the first instance sorely 
 against the will of the imperious Tory Squire
 
 b TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 
 
 that the line had been made ; but he had 
 since made a virtue of necessity, and yielded 
 with a good grace to an innovation which 
 had filled his pockets, and which added to 
 his convenience without intruding unduly on 
 his privacy. 
 
 " Turn to the left, your honour ; at the 
 end of the lime walk you'll be in the private 
 grounds else, afore you knows where you 
 are, and the family is at home in coorse, 
 seeing that the Mistress lay in only a day 
 or two gone," was the parting injunction of 
 the old adherent of the Marchmont family, 
 as the elderly man of military aspect, hav- 
 ing successfully accomplished the descent of 
 the steps, proceeded with his travelling-case 
 in his hand, in the direction of the village, 
 by the old road. 
 
 " All right ! my friend, all right," was the 
 somewhat testy reply. "I have no intention 
 of intruding upon the privacy of the great 
 man, I assure you." But although the 
 words took the form of an address, the Col- 
 onel (for such was the military rank of the
 
 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 7 
 
 stranger) uttered them to himself, the rapid- 
 ity with which he had walked having carried 
 him out of ear-shot, almost giving the lie 
 to the lameness, which I have remarked 
 upon above. 
 
 To one bound to the spot by the ties of 
 old association, the present aspect of the 
 scene would have been dreary enough. The 
 evening was gray wet and dull ; the heavy 
 foliage of the old trees was as yet scarce- 
 ly relieved by the more gorgeous hues of 
 autumn, and to one who had known the 
 spot under happier auspices the impres- 
 sion would have been mournful in the ex- 
 treme. 
 
 But to " a stranger " in those parts, as the 
 dark, military-looking man had declared 
 himself to be, the wild gray landscape under 
 his notice would be but a little more or less 
 dreary, than the splashing of the black mud 
 on such an afternoon in Piccadilly, or the 
 glare of the street lamps through the after- 
 noon fog in Pall Mall. 
 
 His arrival at Marchmont, if the Colonel's
 
 8 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 
 
 object was an introduction to the great 
 family at the Hall, was an inopportune one ; 
 for the lady, ^^ the Mistress," as they called 
 her about there, lay in extremis^ in her state 
 bed, of blue and silver, with her latest born 
 and only living infant at her side. 
 
 Three children at long separated intervals 
 she had borne to her husband ; two lovely 
 boys, each in his turn accounted ''heir/' 
 had brought sunshine into the old Hall, and 
 into the heart of the proud mother for a 
 little space. But presently they had faded 
 and died; in despite, as it seemed, of the most 
 watchful care that ever had its origin in ma- 
 ternal love. 
 
 Mrs. Marchmont had always been ac- 
 counted a cold, undemonstrative woman — 
 an unloving daughter and wife ; but the very 
 fibres and tendrils of her heart were en- 
 twined about her babies, the ' Vaxen touches" 
 of whose little fingers had kindled all that 
 was gentle and womanly into life in her 
 breast. 
 
 It was four years since any living child 
 had laid its head there — but now she was
 
 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. \} 
 
 a mother once more. This time the infant 
 was a girl. 
 
 " Poor little tender flower." the pale lips 
 had whispered, fresh from the fragrant 
 pressure of the baby brow, " my pearl, my 
 blossom, who will care for you when your 
 mother is gone ?" And a fluttering sob 
 heaved her breast as she spoke, attracting 
 the attention of the attendant, who tenderly 
 but firmly removed the infant from her 
 arms. 
 
 The doctor had looked very grave when 
 he visited his patient that morning. He had 
 enjoined perfect quiet and freedom from ex- 
 citement of any kind for the next four and 
 twenty hours. 
 
 " I will not answer for the consequences, 
 if she is allowed to excite herself," he had 
 added in undertones to the nurse ; " there 
 is a look about her eyes which I do not 
 like." 
 
 " The lady is not one as it is easy to dic- 
 tate to or to contradick," answered the wo- 
 man rather sulkily ; but before many hours 
 she was herself thoroughly alarmed, and
 
 10 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 
 
 caused the doctor to be summoned with the 
 greatest haste. 
 
 Not that she had in any way disobeyed 
 his orders — there had been no necessity for 
 enforcing them. A dull heavy lethargy, 
 which could not be called sleep, had presag- 
 ed the coming storm ; fever had set in with 
 the approach of night, and the pulses were 
 beating with a violence that all human aid 
 would be powerless to subdue. 
 
 All that night Mrs. Marchmont wandered, 
 " rambled," as the nurse expressed it, " con- 
 tinual in her talk," and her talk was ever of 
 the " old times," (to drown remembrance of 
 which the waters of no mental Lethe have 
 ever yet been found), and of some one who 
 had been " lost at sea." 
 
 " He was drowned, cast away at sea," 
 she would repeat over and over again, in 
 the not unrythmical cadence of the utterings 
 of a wandering .brain, until the parched lips 
 almost refused their office, and while the 
 glaring and restless but ever beautiful eyes 
 would fix themselves vacantly on some 
 familiar face. Most frequently on the face
 
 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 11 
 
 of her husband, whose own lips blanched 
 under the probe of the tender lament over 
 the fate of one whom he had never, in the 
 pride of his heart, owned as a rival even in 
 thought. 
 
 It was hard for a man whose ruling pas- 
 sions were selfishness and inordinate pride, 
 to have the strings of the tongue of that 
 dumb sorrow unloosed, in the brain-sick 
 wanderings of a dying wife. It was hard 
 for him to feel her snatch her burning hands 
 from his, that she might beat her breast, and 
 tear her hair with them while she cried in 
 her delirium, " And they made me marry 
 him — m}^ husband — but I never loved him 
 — never ! My heart was dead — drowned — 
 cast away at sea ; with him — my love — the 
 only man I ever loved, for better for worse, 
 for richer for poorer, till death do us part, 
 so help me God !" 
 
 " This is terrible," Mr. March mont mut- 
 tered to himself, bitterly conscious of two 
 witnesses of his humiliation in the persons 
 of the doctor and the nurse, the conscious- 
 ness of which stabbed him to the quick.
 
 12 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 
 
 " It is not seemly," lie added with white 
 lips, drawing the doctor aside, " that stran- 
 gers should be in attendance upon my wife, 
 upon Mrs. Marchmont, while she continues 
 to rave in this fashion. Is there nothing you 
 can give to quiet her — nothing she can 
 take?" 
 
 " There is nothing that I can suggest, 
 Squire. Opiates I have tried, and they only 
 increase the excitement. I fear," he added, 
 in the cautious tones of professional reti- 
 cence — " I greatly fear that nothing can be 
 done. I would have asked before this for 
 farther advice if I had believed that anything 
 more could have been done ; but I don't." 
 
 " Is the danger, then, so imminent ?" 
 
 " I fear that it is only a case of time. I 
 will not conceal from you that I consider 
 the case^a^^ liojper 
 
 A shudder passed over Mr. Marchmont's 
 frame ; he was perhaps more shocked than 
 actually pained, but the effect was for the 
 time the same. 
 
 " I should wish to have farther advice — 
 the best advice — for your satisfaction and
 
 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 13 
 
 ray own," he said, turning away to conceal 
 the expression of his face. " Send for Dr. 
 
 L ," he added, naming one of the first 
 
 physicians of the day. " Write what you 
 like in the library, and send it up as a par- 
 cel by the next train — there is just time," he 
 added, consulting his gold hunting- watch by 
 the dim light of the lamp which made dark- 
 ness visible in the sick room. The sight of 
 most men would have been dimmed a little 
 by such an announcement, but a dagger had 
 pierced his soul very deeply, and the foun- 
 tain of tenderness was dry. 
 
 It was under these circumstances that Dr. 
 
 L had been summoned to the Hall; 
 
 and he had preceded the strange gentleman 
 an Lour and a half, in time to appropriate 
 the fly from the " Arms ;" which, owing to 
 the forgetfulness on the part of Mr. March- 
 mont, which had been the topic of some re- 
 mark in the village, had been the only ve- 
 hicle at the disposal of the great London 
 doctor, when he arrived at the station, which 
 was a mile and a half from the Hall.
 
 14 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 
 
 This circumstance did not conduce to the 
 serenity of the Doctor's temper, and after 
 taking a cursory glance at his unhappy pa- 
 tient, over whose parched lips the lava flood 
 of delirious raving continued to flow, and 
 placing his finger for a moment on the 
 bounding pulse, he turned on his heel with 
 a muttered " madness to have sent for me," 
 and demanded an instant consultation with 
 the medical man in attendance, protesting 
 that he must return to town by the next up- 
 train. 
 
 " I gave Mr. Marchmont my opinion, sir ; 
 but he naturally wished for the best advice," 
 Dr. Mavors said apologetically. But the 
 wrath of the great man did not subside until 
 he had partaken of an excellent luncheon, 
 and washed down a morsel of unexception- 
 able Stilton with a glass or two of the far- 
 famed Marchmont port. Then he thawed 
 so far as to say, 
 
 " Sad case, sir — very sad case — never 
 saw a worse case in all my practice." 
 
 ** I have only seen one. How long do
 
 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 15 
 
 you give her, sir ? — how long might we look 
 for this to last?" 
 
 " It entirely depends upon how much 
 stamina the patient possesses. I should 
 hardly imagine that she can last more than 
 four-and-twenty hours ; but gad ! sir, I must 
 trouble you to ring the bell, or I shall miss 
 my train." 
 
 Having obeyed the injunction thus pom- 
 pously conveyed, the humble practitioner 
 
 delicately hinted to Dr. L that the 
 
 Squire was entirely abroad as to the matter 
 of the fee ; " and never having had the hon- 
 our before, sir, of meeting one of the stars 
 of the profession, I must also confess myself 
 in the dark." 
 
 Dr. L raised his bushy eyebrows a 
 
 little supercihously — a little inquiringly. 
 
 *^A cheque for a hundred is the usual 
 thing at this distance. I have lost a day." 
 
 Crestfallen, Dr. Mavors repaired to the 
 library, the bearer of this plain and, to him, 
 startling intimation ; and when, later in the 
 evening, he returned to snatch an hour's re- 
 pose in the bosom of his family — and this
 
 16 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 
 
 honest man's quiver was very full — he ex- 
 claimed, to the astonishment of his matter- 
 of-fact homely wife, who thought that her 
 doctor was taking leave of his senses, 
 
 ^^ O/i, that I had lost such a day /" 
 
 In the meantime "the poor lady up at 
 the Hall," as its haughty mistress was be- 
 ginning to be called by the smallest lisping 
 child on the estate, grew rapidly worse. She 
 was verging on the silent world, and its dim 
 and shadowy shapes seemed already to be 
 beckoning to her from the opposite shore. 
 
 The peculiar nature of the mania which 
 had taken up its abode in her sick brain 
 was one which sorely irritated her husband's 
 patience. He had no toleration for any 
 disregard or defiance of the convention- 
 alities and proprieties of life — even when 
 standing in the ante-chamber of death itself 
 
 " Control yourself, Elizabeth, at least in 
 the presence of the domestics," he had 
 stooped to whisper into her ear, when a 
 fierce flood of hysterical weeping was shak- 
 ing the weakened frame to the very centre ; 
 but that ear was no longer sensitive to impres-
 
 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 17 
 
 sions from tlie outward world. The silent 
 grief of a lifetime was breaking from the 
 tomb, and the rending cry was that of 
 nature's last agony, the yielding up of her 
 lost and dead. 
 
 '' Drowned — cast away at sea — the only 
 man I ever loved /" was still the burden of 
 her cry. 
 
 And her husband, the father of her dead 
 babes, might well cover his stricken face 
 with his hands, as he listened to her life- 
 secret, revealed by her dying lips. In vain 
 in his agony he placed his hand over them, 
 tenderly enough, to quiet what had the ap- 
 pearance of mechanical action. Muffled, but 
 still recognizable, came the weird monotone, 
 " Drowned — cast away at sea — the only man 
 I ever loved !" Some long-buried memory 
 might have been aroused by the words so 
 constantly repeated, for fairly overcome, 
 Mr. Marchmont at last left the room. 
 
 ^^ Call me at once if you observe any 
 change," he said to the nurse, who crooned 
 over the cradle in the dressing-room ; and 
 as the waihng cry of the newly-born infant 
 
 VOL. I. c
 
 18 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 
 
 made itself heard, a shudder passed over his 
 frame. " Take it away," he said, harshly, 
 " the noise will disturb Mrs. Marchmont." 
 
 " No mother was ever disturbed by the 
 voice of her new-born child, sir," was the 
 woman's stern reply; and yielding to the 
 moral force contained in her argument, this 
 man, who possessed a masterful and passion- 
 ate temper, left the room without another 
 word. 
 
 He was not a man to have been scorned, 
 as it was too evident he had been scorned, 
 by any woman who had met him "in maiden 
 meditation fancy free." Mr. Marchmont, the 
 " young Squire," as he had been called until 
 a very few years back, was a singularly 
 handsome man ; personal beauty, which had 
 been an inheritance in the Marchmont family, 
 appeared to have culminated in its present 
 representative. And it was for her beauty 
 that he had loved " Bessie Clavering," and 
 chosen her from the bevy of aspirants to 
 the dignity of mistress of Marchmont Hall. 
 
 As Dr. L returned in his fly to the 
 
 station, he met on the road to the village
 
 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 19 
 
 the military-looking stranger witli the halt 
 in his walk. The latter signed to the driver 
 to stop, as though he were possessed by a 
 momentary impulse too strong to resist. 
 
 " Pardon the liberty I take," he said, in 
 some excitement, as with his unoccupied 
 hand he caught, apparently for support, at 
 the side of the vehicle, out of the window of 
 which dangled the worn leather fringed 
 strap, where it had been flung with an 
 impatient gesture by the inmate of the 
 vehicle, after a futile attempt at keeping out 
 the driving rain by putting up the glass. 
 "Pardon the liberty I take, but if you 
 are, as I believe, the doctor from London, 
 will you be good enough to relieve the 
 anxiety of one who is a stranger here, and 
 tell me if there is any hope of the patient 
 you have just left." 
 
 " Hope, my dear sir — I can give you, I 
 am sorry to say, none. I was sent for too 
 late ; not that I think anything could have 
 saved the poor lady — it is a bad case." 
 
 The tone of comparative levity in which 
 the first words of the sentence were uttered, 
 
 c 2
 
 20 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 
 
 had received a sudden check as the shrewd 
 
 eye of Dr. L rested upon the stranger's 
 
 face. It is scarcely an exaggeration to say 
 that his features writhed under the influence 
 of some powerful emotion. 
 
 "It is enough, I thank you. I only de- 
 sired to know if there was any hope." His 
 hand in the meanwhile relaxed its nervous 
 grip on the side of the vehicle, and was 
 raised in a grave military salute, as the 
 doctor removed his own hat from his head, 
 in instinctive recognition of a better-bred 
 gentleman than himself. 
 
 " Gad !" he muttered to himself, " I nearly 
 made a mistake there ; but when the hus- 
 band took it so easily, one was not led to 
 expect such a display of emotion in other 
 quarters. I thought he was going off in a 
 fit!" 
 
 But our Colonel was made of sterner 
 stuff — he did not go off in a fit ; but he 
 walked a trifle slower, and with apparently 
 more pain to himself, making his lameness 
 once more the m6st noticeable thing about 
 him ; and those who have seen a young
 
 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 21 
 
 woman, a young and otherwise graceful 
 woman, walk lame, ever so little lame, will 
 know how that slight limp will detract from 
 the idea of youth. 
 
 A farmer, driving his gig home from a 
 neighbouring market-town, overtook the 
 pedestrian, and being a trifle '^ fresh," as 
 with a delicate euphemism he would have 
 described rather an advanced stage of 
 drunkenness, as illustrated in his own per- 
 son, accosted him thus : — 
 
 " Holloa ! measter, ha' a lift, man ? It's 
 bad travelling at thy time o' life, and thee 
 lame too. Hand up thy traps, I'll gi ee a lift." 
 
 The farmer himself was a man far ad- 
 vanced in years — his hair was not white, 
 but of a dull drab colour, with a greenish 
 shade in the shadows (not iron-grey like 
 that of the man he addressed), and his 
 cheeks were as weather-beaten and as 
 wrinkled as one of the apples in his own 
 ioft, that had been left there over long. 
 The Colonel stared at the sound of his 
 voice, as a horse might be startled at the 
 sound of a drum.
 
 22 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 
 
 " I might have been robbing one of your 
 orchards, farmer, by the start your voice 
 gave me — but it's not the right time of 
 3^ear." And then with a smile which had a 
 dash of bitterness in it, he accepted the 
 friendly offer of a lift. " Men of our years," 
 he observed, " cannot afford to play tricks — 
 the ground is like a sponge, and I am a 
 martyr to tic. I will ask you to put me 
 down at the ' Marchmont Arms.' " 
 
 "All right, your honour. I ask pardon 
 if I've taken a liberty — your honour's a 
 stranger in these parts, I reckon." 
 
 To this home question the Colonel gave 
 such an ambiguous reply, that his companion, 
 whose intellects were not in a state for any 
 abstruse deductions, was quite as much in 
 the dark as before ; and he continued to 
 exercise his own garrulity, for which the 
 reserve and silence of his companion offered 
 ample opportunity, until he pulled up his 
 horse opposite the village inn, or " public," 
 as it was more frequently called, the bar of 
 which was filled with a group of gossips, dis- 
 cussing the last bulletin from the Hall.
 
 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 23 
 
 "The London doctor gives no hope of the 
 poor lady's life, I hear," Mrs. Pearce, for- 
 merly housekeeper at the Hall, was just say- 
 ing, when hastily summoned by her " mas- 
 ter " to attend to the wants and the comfort 
 of the unexpected stranger guest, whose 
 advent was an event at the humble hostlery. 
 The curiosity of Tom, Dick, and Hodge was 
 turned into a new channel, the traveller, as 
 worn and weary-looking, limped down the 
 passage preceded by the bustling Mrs. 
 Pearce, who was, it was reported, notwith- 
 standing the courtesy title of " master," be- 
 stowed by her upon her lord, both master 
 and mistress of the " Marchmont Arms." 
 
 " Maybe your honour won't mind stepping 
 into the bar until a fire is lit in the parlour," 
 she asked suggestively, as she opened the 
 door of the anything but inviting-looking 
 apartment, which was redolent of mouldy 
 cake and cowslip wine, the relics of last Sun- 
 day's feast. 
 
 But this civility the gallant Colonel courte- 
 ously declined ; and he was soon under the 
 auspices of Phoebe, the maid of the Inn, en-
 
 24 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 
 
 veloped in as thick a cloud of smoke, as 
 though he had been once more encountering 
 the horrors of war. 
 
 ^'Poor gentleman!" the buxom hostess 
 remarked of him, after giving orders with 
 regard to the slaughter of a fowl for supper. 
 "At his time of life he should not travel 
 alone. He's a real gentleman, and one who 
 ought to have his own man, to look after 
 his little comforts at a place like this. Get 
 up a bottle of the old port, Pearce — we'll 
 make him as comfortable as we can at the 
 Marchmont Arms, for it strikes me that he's 
 one as have seen better days."
 
 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 25 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 " Long since that word was spoken — 
 
 Long since that shaft was sped — 
 
 Long since our vows were broken — 
 
 Long since our tears were shed — 
 
 Long since that word of mine, love, 
 
 Was buried in the sea ; 
 But oh ! that shaft you sped, love, 
 Will cleave in death to me." 
 
 Song. 
 
 IN the middle of the night, the poor lady 
 died. They had summoned her hus- 
 band about an hour previously, when the 
 inevitable " change" had taken place, and in 
 his arms she breathed her last sigh. 
 
 He had been an indifferent, but not a bad 
 husband, according to the world's interpre- 
 tation of the adjective. And his indifference, 
 it is but fair to allow, had been born of the 
 studied coldness and neglect with which
 
 26 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 
 
 any demonstration of affection on his part 
 had been received by Mrs. Marchmont dur- 
 ing the first years of their married life. 
 Years which, as far as a wife's influence over 
 her husband is concerned, are improved or 
 neglected to her own cost. For men are 
 essentially " creatures of habit," and it is not 
 in their natures to take up a broken thread 
 and weave it again into the web of life, as 
 women can occasionally do. 
 
 " Poor Elizabeth !" were the words that, 
 in the first moments of natural sorrow, 
 broke from the bereaved husband's lips, 
 when he had closed the door upon the frail 
 relics (still so beautiful) of what had been 
 once his wife. " I could not have believed 
 at one time that we should ever have parted 
 thus." 
 
 Before an hour, however, of that sad 
 watch had passed over his head, Mr. March- 
 mont had quite recovered his composure; 
 and no one would have supposed who saw 
 him on the following morning scrupulously 
 dressed, punctilious in manner, and more 
 than ever a slave to the conventionalities and
 
 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 27 
 
 proprieties of life, that in the abandon of his 
 grief the night before, those words of human 
 tenderness and human regret could have 
 passed his lips. 
 
 He sent for the Rector of the parish to 
 consult with him about the funeral, and to 
 fix the day on which it should take place, 
 and the significant " I should wish every re- 
 spect to be shown to Mrs. Marchmont's 
 memory," was more than a hint, when pro- 
 ceeding from the Squire, that he wished 
 things to be conducted with every sign of out- 
 ward demonstration on the part of tenants 
 and dependants, whose exertions in the cause 
 would not be robbed by these few words of 
 the grace of spontaniety and unbiased re- 
 spect for the memory of their late lady, of 
 whom in her lifetime they had stood in awe. 
 He also wrote numerous letters, which 
 he despatched to a neighbouring town, 
 by a mounted messenger, and indeed did 
 everything that devolves upon a widower to 
 do in such an emergency — everj^thing but 
 the one thing, which it was not in his nature 
 to do, to seek the awful presence of the still
 
 28 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 
 
 beautiful clay, and press upon the pale 
 brows the kiss containing the essence of the 
 bitterness of life. 
 
 " I should like to see her." " I should 
 like to see zV," the different members of the 
 household had, with very few exceptions, 
 severally observed — the vague impersonal 
 pronoun emphasizing in most cases the 
 realization of the awful change. The im- 
 perious woman, the haughty mistress, the 
 proud beauty, stripped even of sex and 
 identity, spoken of as ''the body," or as "zV." 
 
 And yet she was very lovely even in death. 
 The hand of a Phidias might have set his 
 seal of immortality upon those purely cut 
 features, carved, as it appeared, in statuary 
 marble ; and the soft masses of dark hair, 
 which shaded without clouding the brow, 
 had been profaned by the touch of no mortal 
 hand. The nurse and the newly-born in- 
 fant had of course been removed to another 
 apartment, but the woman, accustomed to 
 the presence of death, stole in more than 
 once to gossip with the watchers, and to 
 gaze, as she expressed it, upon the " most
 
 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 29 
 
 beautifulest corpse she had ever seen. " 
 " Poor lady," one of them whispered in 
 return, " hers at rest now ; but it's a won- 
 der the master don't like to see her, she was 
 a handsome lady, and she's as handsome in 
 death as in life — to my thinkin', least- 
 ways." 
 
 The short November evenings soon drew 
 in ; it was already dusk, and the women 
 who watched by the corpse were but too 
 glad of the excuse for lighting the wax 
 candles, with which, by the orders of the 
 Squire (who forgot nothing), the room was 
 abundantly provided. As the younger and 
 more active of the two was standing on a 
 chair to apply a lighted taper to two candles 
 which were placed in gilt branches attached 
 to a panel in the wall, a noise behind it 
 made the three women start, and the girl 
 who stood upon the chair to bound with 
 great alacrity from her elevated position. 
 
 " Clumsy girl !" the nurse exclaimed, in 
 accents of reproof. " Bless my heart, / 
 would not be so scared by a mouse 1" But 
 the words had hardly escaped her lips, when
 
 30 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 
 
 the scratching noise was followed by an 
 equally mysterious rapping behind the same 
 panel, from which indeed there was a secret 
 passage communicating with vaults under 
 the house. This, however, was a fact un- 
 known to the members of the household, 
 nor am I sure that it was one which would 
 have contributed to allay the panic which 
 now possessed the three women. A wild 
 shriek from one of them, who was " tire- 
 some," and a believer in ghosts, combined 
 with the renewal of the knocks with greater 
 vigour than ever, formed signals for a sud- 
 den retreat ; and no sooner had the door 
 closed, than a voice behind the panel, which, 
 by-the-by, had more ring and quality in it 
 than was altogether compatible with the 
 idea of a spiritual visitor, said in manly un- 
 dertones — 
 
 ^'The fools of women are gone, there's 
 no need for cajoling them. Now's your 
 time, your honour ; but don't forget to turn 
 the key of the door, those women will raise 
 the house, for all one knows. Don't stay 
 over the five minutes, sir, as you giv your
 
 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 31 
 
 word. I'm a ruined man if ever this comes 
 to master's ears." 
 
 As the speaker ceased, the panel glided 
 back, and the strange Colonel stept like a 
 picture, or rather like a ghost, from the 
 frame which the carved gilding of the panel 
 represented. (In former days a real picture 
 had occupied the space through which one 
 of Cromwell's soldiers had thrust his sword, 
 in a fit of drunken brutality, without dis- 
 covering the clue which it afforded to the 
 hiding-place of a fugitive king.) His face 
 was of a dull grey, but his lips were firm- 
 ly compressed, and the strength of some 
 determined purpose gave firmness to his 
 halting gait. What silent vow was there 
 made and registered in Heaven ? — Heaven 
 only knew. There was no human witness 
 to the last solemn interview between the 
 living and the dead. 
 
 Samson, a tall, handsome, athletic young 
 man, the under-butler at the Hall, and the 
 beloved of the maids, waited for the Colonel 
 at the entrance of the subterraneous passage, 
 of which by some unusual chance he must
 
 32 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 
 
 have become cognizant. He did not wait long. 
 The allotted five minutes was not exceeded. 
 
 " You are leaving Mr. Marchmont's ser- 
 vice this day week?" was the question which 
 the strange guest addressed to the man 
 whose willing fingers were closing upon 
 something which rustled under their pressure. 
 
 ^^ I am, sir," was the reply. 
 
 " Well ! you see I can make it worth a 
 man's while to keep a secret — I will double 
 what you hold there in your hand if you 
 can find means of assuring me in person, 
 before you leave, that I have not been the 
 victim of a misplaced confidence." 
 
 " You may depend on me, sir," was the 
 immediate and reverential reply. He had 
 not often met with a gentleman " whose 
 notions as a gentleman was above C6>zn," as 
 he afterwards mentally observed to himself 
 " But," he added, touching his fore-lock in 
 lieu of the hat which he did not wear, 
 '' your honour will not be surprised if you 
 hear rumours of a ghost-story, which this 
 here evening's work will most likely set a 
 going in the servants' hall."
 
 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 33 
 
 " Nothing could be better — nothing could 
 answer our purpose so well," was the 
 Colonel's quick reply, given in the short 
 peremptory manner of one accustomed to 
 give orders. " Let them invent and put 
 abroad any ghost story they please." 
 
 And after so saying, the Colonel returned 
 to his inn. 
 
 " A plain, comfortable gentleman, with 
 no nonsense about him, and remarhahly ac- 
 tive, considering his years and his wounded 
 leg," was buxom Mrs. Pearce's comment 
 upon her quiet and easily-contented guest. 
 And, indeed, curiosity, the great motive 
 power in a quiet country village, had not 
 been aroused with regard to him, as it would 
 doubtless have been had not the prepara- 
 tions for the approaching funeral monopol- 
 ized the attention of the bucolic mind, which, 
 as is well known, cannot entertain more than 
 one object of engrossing interest at a time. 
 
 The attention of the female part of the 
 community had indeed been subject to a 
 diversion owing to the authenticated ghost 
 story, which had been current for the last 
 
 VOL. I. D
 
 34 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 
 
 day or two " up at the Hall." And what 
 chance could the plain matter-of-fact " old 
 warrior," as the village clerk had dubbed 
 our grave Colonel, have against a sensational 
 ghost-story, and the full, true, and authentic 
 narrative of the apparition of the poor lady's 
 lost sweetheart, who had been drowned and 
 cast away at sea, and whose memory had 
 troubled her mind on her death-bed. 
 
 The bereaved husband in the meanwhile 
 bore his loss with amazing fortitude. The 
 very day following that of the poor lady's 
 death — the same as that on which the mys- 
 terious stranger had been introduced surrep- 
 titiously to the room in which she lay — the 
 Squire had been "put out" at the appear- 
 ance of a dish not well sent up to table, and 
 Samson, the under-butler, had remarked on 
 the circumstance in the servants' hall. 
 
 "Well," answered the housekeeper, Mrs. 
 Minching, tossing her elaborately ringletted 
 and beribboned head, " it's not much as the 
 Missis ever was to him when she was alive ; 
 she never saw to his comforts or cared for 
 his likings or dislikings — not she."
 
 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 35 
 
 " She was a-thinking of her old sweet- 
 heart, whose ghost the girls saw the other 
 night — or thought they saw," Samson added 
 sententiously. " Law ! what fools women 
 are, to be sure, scared at a mouse behind the 
 wainscut, or anything — except a sweetheart 
 of their own, eh I Mrs. Minching ? Bless 
 their pretty little hearts !" 
 
 " Don't you go for to make fun of any- 
 thing so hawful as that which them girls 
 heard and saw, Mr. Samson ; they saw the 
 panel move and heard the key turn in the 
 lock. I haven't passed the door of that 
 room at night since — and won't till after to- 
 morrow — leastways I won't pass it alone T 
 
 This last clause was uttered with a killing 
 glance for the young under-butler, who, 
 entirely conscious of the same, replied ironi- 
 cally, and without removing from between 
 his ambrosial lips the straw of which he was 
 chewing the end, 
 
 " Of course, ma'am, we know what that 
 means, and no gentleman, or gentleman's 
 gentleman, demeaning himself as such, would 
 allow you to pass it alone." 
 
 d2
 
 36 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 
 
 " Law, Mr. Samson, how you do go on !" 
 was the coquettish reply, "and the poor 
 lady upstairs to be buried to-morrow ! It's 
 an occasion to improve, as the dear good 
 man Jedediah Soily would have said — as I 
 sat under for so many years." 
 
 " You've preserved your figure remark- 
 able, ma'am, under the circumstances," 
 was Mr. Samson's reply, the point of which 
 was caught and appreciated by everyone 
 but the lady concerned, who bridled and 
 smirked and looked very much pleased 
 under the lash of the satirical Samson's 
 reckless tongue. 
 
 So the old love story, the buried secret of 
 that proud cold life, passed into a pro- 
 verb and a by-word in the servants' hall. 
 And the wound which the poor Squire 
 believed to be covered under the martial 
 cloak of profound reticence in his own breast, 
 was thus freely discussed by his domestics 
 under the sacred shelter of his own roof !
 
 TEIALS OP AN HEIRESS. 37 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 " My mother dead, my father lost, 
 I wandered with a vagrant crew ; 
 A common care — a common cost ; 
 Their sorrows and their sins I knew." 
 
 Crabbe. 
 
 SEVENTEEN years later, and " Bessie," 
 
 ^^ the young heiress of Marchmont, was 
 undergoing the operation of hair-dressing 
 under the skilful manipulation of her maid 
 Lucy. 
 
 The dressing of that beautiful hair was, 
 as the latter was in the habit of remarking, 
 a regular "business," for when let down it 
 reached far below the slender waist of the 
 young girl, and was rich in colour, dark, 
 glossy, and abundant. Chignons, or, as they 
 have been wittily called, "pudding bags," 
 were not then come into vogue, and Lucy's
 
 38 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 
 
 nimble fingers were employed in weaving 
 the many-stranded plaits, which adapt them- 
 selves so well to the adornment of a grace- 
 ful head. 
 
 Presently the attention of the abigail was 
 attracted by the appearance of a procession 
 of persons passing the front of the house, 
 over the door of which Miss Marchmont's 
 bed-chamber window projected ; so that 
 from the old-fashioned mullioned lattice both 
 approaches to the house were commanded. 
 
 It was no uncommon sight to see such a 
 procession pass at that hour, for '' Squire 
 Marchmont " was a justice of the peace, and 
 to him were continually brought such vaga- 
 bond or lawless subjects of Her Majesty's 
 realm, as were charged with outraging the 
 laws, or breaking the peace ; and to them 
 justice was administered with more solemn- 
 ity than severity, in a room that was set 
 apart and distinguished by the imposing title 
 of " The Justice Room." 
 
 In this instance it was the central figure 
 of the group which had attracted the atten- 
 tion of the waiting- woman, and which had
 
 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 39 
 
 caused an exclamation of surprise to escape 
 her lips. It was the figure of a young child 
 — of a ragged vagabond child — who was 
 crying bitterly, and to whom a well-fed 
 ^' Jack in office," in the garb of a British 
 policeman, addressed the following ironical 
 exhortation, 
 
 '^ Come along ! Step out, ray man — don't 
 be afraid of wearing out your shoes." 
 
 As the unhappy child happened to be 
 shoeless, and as his bleeding naked feet 
 trailed defenceless on the sharp gravel, as 
 the policeman pulled him along by the collar 
 of his jacket, the official joke was duly re- 
 cognized by the ignoble of the attendant 
 train of followers. 
 
 " Bring him on, constable, bring him on," 
 shouted a burly but elderly farmer, whose 
 speech clung to the formula with which he 
 had been familiar in his boyhood, when 
 sundry orchard robbings, in which he had 
 personally assisted, had impressed the idea 
 of the existence of a " constable "very forci- 
 bly on his imagination. 
 
 '^ Let us see what the Squire will have to
 
 40 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 
 
 say to hira — a little vagabone. And not only 
 a little vagabone, but a little thief!'' 
 
 This exordium of the farmer's was over- 
 heard by Bessie Marchmont, who, upon 
 hearing Lucy's exclamation, had impatiently 
 withdrawn her head from her hands, and 
 had thrust it out of the window to get a bet- 
 ter view of the culprit, whose offence against 
 society it would appear from the farmer's 
 speech, to be a more serious one even than 
 that of being proved a " vagabone." 
 
 " I don't believe that that young innocent 
 child, a mere baby, is a thief," was the im- 
 petuous exclamation of the young girl. 
 " Give me my hat, Lucy, I'll go at once to 
 ^ the Colonel,' and make him interfere." 
 
 " Let me finish putting up your hair, miss 
 — you never can go out such a figure as 
 that," remonstrated Lucy, who could not be 
 startled out of the proprieties, notwithstand- 
 ing her sympathies lately enlisted for the 
 " vagabone " child. 
 
 " Bother my hair !" was the impetuous 
 girl's only reply. And without another 
 word she snatched up a large gipsy hat
 
 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 41 
 
 from the table, and heedless that she was 
 only arrayed en peignoire (a costume by no 
 means unbecoming), she was soon flying 
 across the lawns in the direction of a cottage 
 called the " Hermitage," now the dwelling 
 of a hermit, in the shape of our old ac- 
 quaintance, the dark, lame stranger of the 
 preceding pages, now known to his acquaint- 
 ances in the neighbourhood under the name 
 of Colonel Le Garde, to his intimates at the 
 Hall as the Colonel, and to its young heiress 
 as '' Uncle Rex." 
 
 It was not much more than a gun-shot 
 from the Hall, and the fleet-footed girl was 
 soon there. 
 
 " Uncle Rex ! Uncle Rex !" she called, 
 tapping impatiently at the study window, as 
 she caught sight of an iron-grey head within 
 bending over some volume " quaint and cu- 
 rious," precious to the scholar's soul. " I 
 want you — you must come back with me at 
 once to the Hall." 
 
 " Must is for the King, Birdie, as I have 
 often had occasion to tell you before, in the 
 course of years devoted to your education.
 
 42 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 
 
 What am I under orders for now ? Has 
 Rose got a thorn in her foot ? or has Fairy 
 fallen lame again ? or " 
 
 "Please do not go on joking, but come 
 back with me at once, like a dear good 
 Uncle Rex, and prevent a great wrong. 
 They are going to send a child — a mere 
 baby — to prison as a thief, and it's a cruel, 
 wicked shame. Some one must interfere." 
 
 Bessie was out of breath and very indig- 
 nant, so that the warm colour glowed in her 
 cheeks, and her eyes flashed like diamonds 
 in the sun. It was not in the Colonel's 
 heart to resist such a pleader in such a 
 cause ; he opened the window which open- 
 ed upon the grass plot, put out one slippered 
 foot, and as speedily withdrew it. 
 
 " The grass is wet, Birdie." 
 
 " Only with dew — look at me," and a lit- 
 tle foot, daintily bound in silk and morocco, 
 was shaken defiantly in the face of the An- 
 glo-Indian, who was ' making so much of 
 what she had made so little in the cause of 
 humanity, and the succour of the helpless in 
 distress.
 
 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 43 
 
 '' You never had ' tic/ child, in a wound- 
 ed leg, or you would not treat the matter so 
 carelessly. 1 had a sleepless night." 
 
 " Poor dear, you shall not have another, 
 and lay it to my account. See," she added, 
 returning triumphant from a raid among the 
 wraps in the passage, called by courtesy the 
 hall, " you shall tread as softly and as drily 
 as did Queen Bess over Raleigh's cloak ;" 
 and as she spoke she flung a thick railway 
 rug over the portion of the grass which, be- 
 ing shaded by the house, was still wet with 
 the morning dew. 
 
 This operation concluded, Bessie, or 
 Birdie, as the Colonel had affectionately 
 nick-named his adopted niece, proceeded to 
 gently coercive measures, and winding her 
 two arms (the pretty bare arms from which 
 the sleeves of the morning robe of muslin 
 fell loose) coaxingly round one of his, she 
 succeeded in launching the Colonel over the 
 threshold of his own door, which she knew 
 from experience was an important point 
 gained.
 
 44 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 
 
 " If you will explain what I am to be 
 called upon to do, dear child, when 1 get to 
 the Hall, I shall be glad. I have not yet 
 breakfasted, and you are reversing the 
 moral of the proverb in this case. You 
 should be more learned in the philosophy of 
 your tribe." 
 
 " You shall ^ to breakfast with what appe- 
 tite you may ' when you have done my 
 errand. I would not have troubled you, 
 and interfered myself, only " — and this was 
 said with an arch deprecatory glance at the 
 Colonel, which he thought irresistibly be- 
 witching — ^' I have been forbidden the Jus- 
 tice-room, because I am accused of hinder- 
 ing the administration of unrighteous law. 
 But I want you to tell papa that if he sends 
 that child — that baby to prison, I won't 
 speak to him for a week." 
 
 " I perceive I am elected to the honour- 
 able office of catspaw, and am to shield you 
 from the anger of his worship in one of his 
 black moods. Of what is the juvenile de- 
 linquent accused?" 
 
 "I don't know — I didn't stop to hear.
 
 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 45 
 
 Don't stop me for saying stop — I know it's 
 vulgar, but never mind now." 
 
 " You are incorrigible, my dear ! After all 
 the pains that I have bestowed upon you, 
 you venture upon such a barbarism as 
 * didn't stop to hear.' But about this miser- 
 able child ?" 
 
 " Miserable indeed ! I did hear that blus- 
 tering Farmer Johnson say something about 
 a 'little thief,' and then I came straight 
 away to you. Poor little tattered friendless 
 child, it made my heart bleed to see him. 
 That Farmer Johnson is a hard man." 
 
 " He is a hard man, but not an unjust one. 
 Depend upon it, this new protege of yours is 
 not worth all the sympathy you waste on 
 him. Some gipsy scamp, probably, who has 
 been robbing a hen-roost." 
 
 '' Which he would have been beaten by 
 his parents for not doing. It will be a burn- 
 ing shame if they send a child of that age to 
 prison. It must not be allowed." 
 
 " It might be the making of him. Birdie. 
 The boys are well looked after in Carcester 
 jail, now."
 
 46 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 
 
 '^ Shame on you, Uncle Rex 1 you try to 
 make yourself out harder than you are. 
 Don't say such horrid things, but promise 
 me you will do your best to get him off. 
 Papa will listen to you." 
 
 " I don't know that, Birdie ; but if the 
 case is not a very heinous one, I will do my 
 best, and suggest the expediency of a flog- 
 ging, to propitiate the stony hearts of Farmer 
 Johnson and his worship the Justice." 
 
 " But see if you can't get him off with a 
 scolding; and, at all events," she added, as 
 he proceeded, as fast as his lameness allowed, 
 in the direction of the Justice-room, " don't 
 let them hurt him much." 
 
 He did not turn, as a younger man might 
 have done, to take another look at the 
 sweet pleading face, but he muttered to him- 
 self, wiping away a tear from his seared, 
 scarred, withered cheek as he did so, " Bless 
 her tender heart ! I could almost believe in 
 her kind again, for her sake." 
 
 There were no traces of tenderness, how- 
 ever, to be seen on his countenance as he 
 paused on the awful threshold of the Jus-
 
 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 47 
 
 tice-room; and as the trembling accused, 
 with the keen instinct of a hunted animal, 
 turned his tearful eyes upon the new comer, 
 he began to sob afresh, for he saw, or 
 thought he saw, " justice " in another form 
 of unmitigated severity frowning on him 
 from those lowering brows. 
 
 " Please, sir, I didn't," he said, breaking 
 the silence, and the pause which the en- 
 trance of the Colonel had caused in the pro- 
 ceedings, over which the Squire was pre- 
 siding with his most pompously magisterial 
 air — '' indeed I didn't — please don't send 
 me to prison, sir. Oh ! don't ! don't !" 
 
 "Be quiet, will you, and let the con- 
 stable here tell his worship his tale. We 
 shall soon find out then whether you did^ or 
 whether you didn't, I'll be bound." 
 
 " Proceed, policeman, with your evi- 
 dence," here interposed the Squire, these 
 diversions having been caused by the un- 
 expected and most unusual appearance of 
 the Colonel in the Justice-room — '^ you were 
 watching the farmer's hen-roosts on Sunday 
 afternoon in the Broad Close — well ?"
 
 48 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 
 
 "I was there, please your worship, by 
 Farmer Johnson's request. He had had 
 three hens stolen from the coops on Sunday 
 week." 
 
 " In what part of the field were you 
 watching ?" 
 
 " I was standing behind the great elm, 
 please your worship, looking down into the 
 lane." 
 
 " Did you see any one pass ?" 
 
 " No one but this lad, and he came run- 
 ning down the lane looking scared and 
 frightened, with a bundle under his arm. I 
 called to him from behind the tree, ' Hulloa, 
 little chap, what have you got in that there 
 bundle?' says I." 
 
 " Did he stop when you called out to 
 him ?" 
 
 " Only a moment, your worship ; then he 
 took to his heels and ran." 
 
 " Can you swear that this is the same 
 lad?" 
 
 " I can. I tracked him the same even- 
 ing, and found him asleep in the gipsy camp 
 on Stony cross Heath."
 
 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 49 
 
 " What made you follow him up?" 
 
 " I went to the farm, your worship, when 
 I see the folks coming out of church. When 
 the farmer got home he found that the win- 
 dow of the back place had been broken, and 
 the place robbed. ^ Come round this way, 
 constable,' says he; 'we'll leave things just 
 as we found them.' We went round and in 
 at the front door, and through the kitchen 
 to the back. ' The rascals have taken my 
 cabbage nets,' says he. ' I left them on that 
 table before I went to church ; and my old 
 overcoat that was a-hanging up behind the 
 door — thafs gone too.' " 
 
 " Was the door of the back place locked 
 from the inside?" 
 
 " Bolted it were, your honour, not locked 
 — but bolted it were, I'll take my bible 
 oath !" broke in the farmer, who was aware 
 of the importance of the question as regard- 
 ed the comparative magnitude of the crime 
 — whether amounting to burglary or simple 
 theft. 
 
 " Please, sir, I didn't take them ; please, 
 sir, I never saw his cabbage nets. I made 
 
 VOL. I. E
 
 50 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 
 
 them there my own self — that I did." 
 
 " Silence, boy !" said the magistrate ; but 
 there was a ring of pity in his tones as he 
 spoke the sternly sounding words. 
 
 The child's voice was hoarse and broken 
 with sobs ; and there was a certain grim 
 pathos in the tears which forced channels 
 through the dirt as they coursed one ano- 
 ther down his cheeks. With an effort, as it 
 appeared, he obeyed the order, and held his 
 peace as far as his tongue was concerned, 
 but his sobs were uncontrollable as the po- 
 liceman continued his evidence, which cer- 
 tainly appeared so conclusive against him 
 that the Colonel's heart sank within him as 
 he thought of Bessie's pleading eyes, and as 
 the ugly facts attending the commission of 
 the theft seemed to preclude all hopes of 
 the remission of punishment, or of the pro- 
 pitiatory expiation of the urchin's sin against 
 society at large, and Farmer Johnson's in 
 particular, which he had intended to submit 
 to the merciful consideration of the jus- 
 tices. 
 
 As the evidence was given, it appeared
 
 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 51 
 
 that the policeman, upon connectmg the 
 guilty looks of the child with the fact of the 
 bundle which he carried under his arm, and 
 his subsequent hasty flight, had concluded 
 that he was either himself the thief, or (as 
 certainly seemed more likely on taking his 
 tender years into consideration) that he had 
 been the accomplice employed to make away 
 with the spoil. 
 
 The former hypothesis, upon closer ex- 
 amination of the premises, was the one to 
 which he inclined ; for the aperture which 
 had admitted the hand of the thief was a 
 small one, and the window itself hardly 
 large enough to admit the body of a full- 
 grown man. 
 
 The gipsy camp to which the supposed 
 culprit had been traced, was deserted by its 
 Bohemian tenants, but upon the search 
 being proceeded with, the child was found 
 extended on the ground, under the shade of 
 one of the travelling vans, his head resting 
 on the very bundle which was to bear such 
 crushing testimony against him. It con- 
 tained cabbage-nets such as the farmer had 
 
 E 2 
 
 LIBRARY 
 UNIVERSmrCJF
 
 52 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 
 
 lost, and although further search failed to 
 discover the over-coat, a brass button, with 
 a portion of the fabric to which it had been 
 sewn, was found in one of the ragged 
 pockets, amidst a miscellaneous collection 
 of marbles, cherry stones, and other childish 
 treasures, which had been exhibited as tokens 
 of his innocence by the trembling child. 
 
 '^ I ain't got no money, sir — not a farden ; 
 look here," and the pitiful collection of the 
 young virtuoso had been held out with much 
 the same deprecatory look and gesture with 
 which we might have observed a small 
 shivering creature of the monkey tribe hold 
 out a propitiatory offering to the " big ape 
 and brother," the sharer of his captivity, and 
 most objectionable " companion of his soli- 
 tude." 
 
 ^' Them's my nets — and that's my button, 
 of that I'll take my Bible oath in any court 
 of justice in England," said the farmer, at 
 the conclusion of the constable's narrative ; 
 and he emphasized the assertion by placing 
 the ball of his thumb on the button thus 
 identified, and pressing that member in-
 
 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 53 
 
 wards on the same until it appeared to ap- 
 proach within an ace of dislocation. 
 
 So little heedful was he of certain precepts 
 contained in " the Book," as to let anger 
 and not pity move his heart towards one of 
 those of whom his Master's lips had pro- 
 nounced, "Suffer such to come unto Me." 
 It was a curious feature in this honest man's 
 character that any fellow-creature coming 
 under the head of the genus "vagabone" 
 excited the worst passions of his nature, as 
 the sight of a red rag is supposed to inflame 
 those of a bull. He was himself the father 
 of a troop of boys, whose gravest misde- 
 meanours could only wring from his over- 
 indulgent lips the reproof, rendered negative 
 by the loudly- whispered aside, "boys will 
 be boys. Why, bless you, I've robbed many 
 an orchard in my time ! I oodn't have my 
 boys milk-sops for all I'm worth." And yet 
 he could behold without pity the grief of 
 the ragged urchin, who had followed the in- 
 stincts of his tribe, and indulged in the pro- 
 clivities which were born with him to his 
 own bitter cost.
 
 54 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 
 
 "Is it not possible to be mistaken in tbe 
 matter of cabbage-nets, farmer ?" suggested 
 the Justice. "The boy affirms, with some 
 appearance of truth, that he made these him- 
 self." 
 
 " And so I did, sir," the child eagerly re- 
 plied. " I wouldn't tell you a lie, your 
 worship, indeed I wouldn't." 
 
 The quick intelligence of the I'ad was 
 proved by the way in which he caught at 
 any point which presented itself in his favour, 
 and even in the mode of address to the 
 magistrate, invested for him with such ter- 
 rible power. The Colonel, who observed 
 everything, observed this, and made the 
 mental observation, "too sharp by half.'' 
 The farmer, observing nothing, but believing 
 implicitly in the child's guilt, on the score of 
 his being a vagabone, replied mockingly — 
 
 " Oh no ! of course you wouldn't tell a 
 lie — you wasn't brought up to that trade, 
 was you ? It happens unfortunate for you, 
 however, that I happen to have my own 
 partickler reasons for being able to swear to 
 them partickler nets. And swear to them I
 
 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 55 
 
 will, too, in any court of justice in England. 
 Thems my nets f 
 
 "There's the button, too, your honour ; 
 the button off the stolen coat," put in the 
 policeman ; " the fanner can swear to that, 
 owing to the piece of cloth which corre- 
 sponds." 
 
 " Mammy giv'd me that button ; she giv'd 
 it me to keep Tommy quiet when he had 
 the measles, and I kep' it ever since. It never 
 was on no coat of yourn." 
 
 This remark was aimed directly at the 
 farmer, on whom the eyes of the child, 
 which seemed too large and too old for the 
 pinched wan face, now rested with an ex- 
 pression of defiance and reproach. 
 
 A loud noise outside the Justice-room here 
 interrupted the proceedings, apparently 
 doomed to be interrupted that morning. 
 The angry tones of a woman's voice, appar- 
 ently maddened by some vehement and 
 overpowering passion, rose shrill above the 
 remonstrating voices of others evidently at- 
 tempting to calm her. 
 
 " Bless his innocent heart ! the poor lamb
 
 56 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 
 
 — he never took the value of a brass far- 
 thing in his life. Let me go — or I'll be the 
 death of some of you !" 
 
 And the virago, attaining her object by the 
 exercise of her powerful fists, as well as by 
 the fury of her tongue, presented herself be- 
 fore the startled magistrate, who, surprised 
 out of the dignified and studied calmness of 
 office, said in the sharp nervous manner na- 
 tural to him when he w^as annoyed, 
 
 "Remove that woman at once." 
 
 " Come, my good woman, you can't do 
 no good here, you know," interposed hang- 
 ers on, inevitable in every court of law. 
 " You had better come away quietly, as his 
 worship says." 
 
 " I won't go away, I won't be removed ! 
 You see that child there — an innocent child, 
 one of God's lambs, as never thieved the 
 value of a farthing in all his innocent life. 
 Let him go, and I'll go too — but not before 
 — and I'd like to see who'll make me." 
 
 " Only be quiet, my good woman, and 
 listen to reason," said the Magistrate, whose 
 anger soon cooled tow^ards a woman, even
 
 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 57 
 
 when her image appeared before him de- 
 based, degraded, defaced ; as in the case of 
 the poor wretch whose motherly instinct 
 seemed to be the only womanly thing left 
 in a temple, the outward aspect of which w^as 
 so far from fair. 
 
 " Listen to reason, and tell me quietly, in 
 the first place, whether you are the child's 
 mother, and what is your name ?" 
 
 " I'm not his mother, your worship," the 
 woman replied, somewhat softened by this 
 forbearance on the part of one whom she 
 had before regarded in the light of a natural 
 and implacable foe. " My name's Hester 
 Lovell, and the boy's is ' Joey.' We don't 
 know of any other. We took him away 
 from his dead mother's breast, as she lay 
 in a ditch by the roadside. Many's the 
 words I and my master had about it ; 
 we'd mouths enough of our own to fill, but 
 I kep' the child." 
 
 "In so doing you performed a Christian 
 act. But I fear you have brought him up 
 to bad ways. You know the crime with 
 which he is charged to-day ; it is a serious
 
 58 TKIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 
 
 one — the burglarious entrance of a dwelling- 
 house, and stealing therefrom. How far 
 you and your ' master ' are responsible for 
 that act is best known to yourselves ; but as 
 the case now stands, he must bear the pen- 
 alty." ^ 
 
 " It's a lie — a wicked lie !" shrieked Hes- 
 ter Lovel, breaking out again into a fury ; 
 " many's the time he's been beat for not 
 thieving. He'd be skinned alive sooner than 
 look at anything that did not belong to him 
 — much less go for to take it. I'll thrash 
 the gentleman blood out of him, my mas- 
 ter's said many and many's the time. Look 
 here !" 
 
 As she spoke, she seized with a sort of 
 rough tenderness the thin wrist of the child, 
 and baring the rags from his arm (the skin 
 of which, where it had been covered, was 
 fair as a lily, bearing testimony to the truth 
 of the woman's statement that there was no 
 gipsy blood in his veins), and displayed 
 deep purple bruises, which stained the white 
 skin here and there — a pitiful sight for a 
 humane or Christian heart.
 
 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 59 
 
 " That's what he got for not thieving, my 
 gentlemen !" she screamed triumphantly, 
 shaking the bruised limb in the face of the 
 magistrate, who looked with compassion at 
 the poor fragment of humanity whose expe- 
 rience of life had been so bitter, that it 
 would have been better for him had he 
 been left to the fate from which a rough hu- 
 manity had rescued him — the cold cradle of 
 his mother's breast. 
 
 But as thoughts something like these in 
 tendency, but not perhaps so expressed, 
 passed through the mind of the Colonel, on 
 whom the boy had twice fixed his wonder- 
 ful and wondering eyes, with an expression 
 of appeal which had touched him to the 
 soul, the lynx eye of the law, set for the 
 nonce in the bull-like head of the pitiless 
 farmer, saw nothing in that bare bruised 
 limb but another evidence of the guilt of its 
 owner. In the inside of the palm of the 
 child's hand was a jagged wound — such a 
 wound as might have been made with bro- 
 ken glass. 
 
 "Look there, constable," he exclaimed
 
 60 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 
 
 triumphantly — " if we only wanted another 
 proof, look there !" 
 
 Every eye was tnrned towards the object 
 of the farmer s exclamation ; there was cer- 
 tainly an ugly flesh wound in the extended 
 palm. The magistrate looked sad and 
 grave. The woman, shrewd enough to per- 
 ceive that the wound in the child's hand 
 bore testimony against him, said at once, 
 with a fatal readiness in the art of lying, 
 which was as damaging to the child as the 
 fact she so accounted for, 
 
 " That cut was made by a broken bottle 
 yesterday forenoon. The boy was not out 
 of the camp all day." 
 
 The evident falsehood of this defence, and 
 the coolness with which it was uttered, ex- 
 tinguished the half-kindled spark of belief in 
 the boy's possible innocence which had ex- 
 isted in the breast of the magistrate, and he 
 remarked, very sternly — 
 
 " The policeman has sworn positively to 
 the contrary. He saw the boy run up the 
 lane with a bundle just before the discovery 
 of the theft. Two hours after he finds him
 
 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 61 
 
 alone in the camp asleep, with the bundle 
 under his head containing the nets, to which 
 the farmer can swear. The evidence is 
 strong and connected. I have no choice 
 but to commit him for trial, which I do 
 with less regret, as I feel that by so doing 
 he will be taken out of bad hands, and per- 
 haps saved from a career of crime." 
 
 At this juncture the Colonel's iron-grey 
 head was seen to stoop over the magistrate's 
 ear, but a stern shake of the head was the 
 only reply. 
 
 The behaviour of Hester Lovel as these 
 words were addressed to her became ex- 
 tremely violent, and she w^as at last forcibly 
 removed from the Justice-room, followed 
 by Colonel le Garde, to whom the Squire 
 had whispered, " Pray see, my dear Colonel, 
 that the poor wretch sustains no hurt." 
 
 ' ■ Let her go now, my man," said the lat- 
 ter, laying his hand authoritatively upon the 
 arm of a man who was particularly active in 
 the cause of removing the gipsy from the 
 premises. " I will see her out of the place." 
 
 " Not without Joey — not without the in-
 
 62 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 
 
 nocent lamb," slie replied, bursting into 
 tears, and evidently more subdued by words 
 of kindness than by the rough handling of 
 the livery servants, whose touch she had 
 angrily resented. ^'Tell them to let me go, 
 good gentleman," she added in subdued ac- 
 cents, as she recognized a champion in the 
 dark military-looking man, whose calm words 
 of authority were immediately obeyed. 
 
 " Leave her to me," he repeated ; " I will 
 be answerable for her peaceful behaviour." 
 
 The men upon this at once released her 
 from their rude detaining grasp, and the 
 Colonel and the gipsy were left standing 
 face to face. What means he employed for 
 taming this wild cat to his will it is not for 
 me to reveal ; and if I admit so much as 
 that the Bohemian's fingers closed upon a 
 ruddy coin, and the Colonel's upon a piece 
 of paper much soiled and worn, but written 
 all over in the characters of a female hand, 
 before the close of the interview, I can 
 scarcely mean the reader to infer, from what 
 hints he has already received, that the lat- 
 ter was likely to be particularly anxious on
 
 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 63 
 
 the subject of what fortune might still have 
 in store for him. 
 
 With regard to the gipsy Hester Lovel, 
 her wrath was completely appeased.
 
 64 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 " An only daughter, sir — 
 An only child." 
 
 Old Play. 
 
 IT is necessary before the tale proceeds to 
 explain a little how matters stood at the 
 Hall, and how it was that the handsome and 
 wealthy widower had remained proof against 
 feminine attraction or wile during the long 
 lonely years during which his little daugh- 
 ter (and as she was beginning to be called 
 " heiress," even by the matrons in the neigh- 
 bourhood) was growing up. 
 
 Whether or not his marriage had been a 
 happy one, was a subject which had been 
 freely discussed both before and after he 
 became a widower. The world as a rule 
 had given its verdict against it, but I do not
 
 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 65 
 
 imagine that in this instance it could have 
 been altogether sincere, for although during 
 his wife's lifetime he had been called a Blue- 
 beard, a tyrant, and even a bully, and by 
 various other uncomplimentary appellatives, 
 Mrs. Marchmont had scarcely been dead six 
 months — I had nearly written weeks — than 
 the feelings of his neighbours, and conse- 
 quently their opinions, assumed an entirely 
 new complexion, and speculations were rife 
 as to the propriety, nay, the expediency of 
 his making a second choice. 
 
 " Depend upon it, my dear, that poor 
 woman led him a life." This was the view 
 society now took of the matter ; and if 
 it was anxious to repair the breach in 
 social decorum by providing the Squire with 
 a help more meet for him, we can scarcely 
 say that society was to blame. 
 
 Society, however, exerted itself, and feted 
 its new idol in vain. The idol did not ob- 
 ject to be caressed and feted, but seemed 
 likely to avoid the pitfall prepared for his 
 over-wary feet ; and he appeared likely to 
 be the last of his race as regarded a male 
 
 VOL. I. p
 
 66 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 
 
 heir in the direct line of succession. His 
 daughter Bessie was his heiress, and she had 
 managed to wind herself round his heart to 
 the exclusion of any other possible object of 
 interest or affection. Not that he was out- 
 wardly demonstrative even towards her ; he 
 demanded rather than bestowed such tokens 
 — but he was secretly very proud of his 
 daughter ; and the beautiful child of three 
 or four who toddled in to dessert, and hid 
 her richly-curling locks in papa's sheltering 
 breast, had proved his greatest safeguard 
 against the fascinations of the rest of her sex. 
 He himself, however, had a rival, and by 
 no means a despicable one, in the strange 
 Colonel, who had taken up his abode at the 
 " Hermitage " at the time of her birth, and 
 who had been a fixture there ever since. 
 He had taken a fancy to " The Cottage," as 
 it was then called, which was within the 
 grounds of the Hall ; and at his own desire 
 had been established there by Mr. March- 
 mont, who was glad to secure such a neigh- 
 bour, a gentleman and a scholar — for he en- 
 tertained a dislike, amounting to prejudice,
 
 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 67 
 
 for his rector, Mr. Kingdom, the only other 
 educated man within the easy reach upon 
 which intimacy can be founded. 
 
 The friendship between the Squire and 
 the Colonel had maintained its original 
 character, during the space of seventeen 
 years, a firm and lasting, but by no means 
 an impassioned one. The great link be- 
 tween natures so opposite was indeed the 
 love for the motherless child, which they 
 had in common; and from the time the little 
 one could put one tiny red shoe before an- 
 other, there was a decided inclination on 
 the part of the pair of them to toddle in the 
 direction of the Hermitage; for in that 
 elysium resided a good genius, in whose 
 gift were sugar plums unlimited, dolls of 
 fabulous beauty, and best of all, an interm- 
 inable supply of fluffy white kittens, the 
 progeny of the Colonel's favourite white 
 Persian, who, notwithstanding the honours 
 of maternity, was known in the family circle 
 as " Miss Blanche." 
 
 As the little girl grew older you might 
 have seen her any day seated on the Colo- 
 
 f2
 
 68 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 
 
 nel's knee, whilst he performed some gentle 
 feminine office ; such as that of buttoning a 
 tiny glove, or arranging the folds of a tum- 
 bled sash; the earnest eyes (her mother's eyes) 
 fixed all the while on his grave face, and a 
 doll, or perhaps a kitten tucked, in mewling 
 helplessness of remonstrance, under the dis- 
 engaged mottled arm. 
 
 " Don't hurt the poor thing, darling," the 
 Colonel would gently suggest, as the pink 
 baby fingers would revel in the merciless 
 compression of pussy's fluffy carcase, or in 
 tearing out handfuls of its fur. 
 
 His own nick-name had originated in her 
 love of pets and animals — the noble New- 
 foundland, who had grown up from puppy- 
 hood into the *' guide, counsellor, and 
 friend " of Bessie's heart, was called " Rex." 
 
 " Why is he called so ? what does Rex 
 mean ?" she had asked one day, as she made 
 a pillow of his curly back, and looked up to 
 the Colonel for an answer. 
 
 " Rex is the Latin for King, Birdie, and 
 Rex is a kingly fellow," was the Colo- 
 nel's reply, who had taught the little girl
 
 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 69 
 
 to call him Uncle, instead of by the 
 more formal military title prefixed to his 
 name. 
 
 " I once dreamt that I saw a king, and 
 that he was like you, Uncle. Now I shall 
 call you ^ Uncle Rex.' " 
 
 This was the origin of the young girl's af- 
 fectionate nickname, and the Colonel would 
 not have exchanged it for any of the proud- 
 est titles which the world has in its gift. 
 
 The lonely child, the object of so much 
 love, had few companions of her own age, 
 and the occasions were few and far between 
 on which she was allowed to carry on her 
 more equal flirtations, in the pinkest of silk 
 stockings and the shortest of muslin frocks, 
 with the " Rectory boys,'' while Mrs. King- 
 dom, the Rector's homely wife, looked 
 on through her spectacles well pleased, and 
 built up castles in the air, to which her 
 eldest born, Reggie, did not adapt himself 
 as she could have wished. 
 
 " She's so naughty, mother — she let a 
 young sparrow out of my brick trap, and 
 loosed Juno over the flower beds; and
 
 70 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 
 
 just look at her frock all over strawberry 
 stains. I hope she'll catch it for that when 
 nurse comes, that's all." 
 
 Reggie Kingdom was about five years 
 older than Bessie, and a fine fellow enough, 
 but the light of chivalry, as regarded little 
 girls, had not yet dawned in his breast ; and 
 such was the sort of school-boy complaint 
 which he would bring to his mother, as the 
 pink silk stockings and little bronze shoes 
 twinkled about the paths between the Rec- 
 tor's favourite flower beds in pursuit of the 
 refractory Juno, which it was the sprite's 
 great amusement to release from the irk- 
 some monotony of kennel life, whenever 
 she was allowed to spend an afternoon at the 
 Rectory, which circumstance occurred about 
 twice in the course of the year. 
 
 " Never mind, Reggie," the boy's mother 
 would reply — " she has no one to play with 
 at home, you know ; you should play with 
 her, and amuse her, and then she would 
 not stain her frock with strawberries, or let 
 the dog destroy papa's flowers. Why don't 
 you have a game at hide and seek ? "
 
 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 71 
 
 " Catch me at it ! — that's girl's play. 
 Harry can play with her at that if he likes ; 
 he's just like a girl himself." 
 
 And to Harry indeed the task came will- 
 ingly enough. He was a little golden- 
 haired, gentle fellow, about the same age as 
 Bessie herself, who fully recognised her 
 right to make a slave of him ; but notwith- 
 standing his service and submission, it was 
 on the lordly Reggie that she smiled, when 
 it suited his humour or caprice to patronize 
 the '^little girl from the Hall," so far as to 
 lift her up to see the robin's nest in the 
 thatched roof of the garden-house, or to in-, 
 troduce to her notice the last litter of pups 
 who, with their mother, occupied a spare 
 stall in the low damp Rectory stable, which 
 contained a paradise within its four walls, to 
 BeSvsie, from that time. 
 
 When Reggie was in what the little lady 
 called ^' a dood temper," he was willing 
 enough to perform such offices ; and on such 
 occasions Harry would follow the pair 
 meekly, unnoticed and silent, for Bessie 
 would always drop his hand for Reggie's,
 
 72 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 
 
 although the latter should be ceded rather 
 than offered for her acceptance. Like a 
 true boy, he was rather ashamed of his 
 fairy-like companion, and it was seldom that 
 his inother was gratified by the sight which, 
 when presented to her gaze, filled her with 
 a very keen sensation of pleasure. 
 
 She was a homely, middle-aged woman, 
 only redeemed by this absorbing passion for 
 her eldest born from the decidedly unin- 
 teresting and common-place. Decidedly 
 practical and the reverse of imaginative, she 
 would have discovered a hole in your stock- 
 ing much sooner than a flaw in your charac- 
 ter, and would have offered you a receipt 
 for calf 's-foot jelly when you asked her for 
 medicine for a mind diseased. Her nature 
 and acquirements afforded a decided contrast 
 to those of her husband, who had spent the 
 earlier years of his life in cloistered ease as 
 a college *' don," where he had been looked 
 up to for his classical attainments, and whose 
 dignified figure became well the academical 
 robe, with which long habit had made him 
 familiar.
 
 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 73 
 
 Mr. Kingdom was an excellent man, and 
 an educated scholar, but the manner of his 
 excellence was not such as would be appre- 
 ciated by the simple folks whose " pastor 
 and master " he had become, and who in 
 most instances preferred confiding their woes, 
 spiritual and temporal, into the more com- 
 fortable keeping of his worthy spouse. 
 
 " Try an old man's plaister on your poor 
 back, Hodge, and read your Bible night and 
 morning, and send up to the Rectory for a 
 can of soup." Such were the prescriptions 
 of the parson's wife, which were generally 
 gratefully received by ploughman Hodge,^ 
 whose summary of the good lady's virtues 
 she had once overheard, much to her own 
 amusement, addressed to a fellow-labourer, 
 and a new arrival in the parish, as her any- 
 thing but fairy-like form vanished from their 
 gaze. 
 
 "Don't you know who that be. Bill? 
 That's t' parson's wife, and a nice body she 
 be " 
 
 She did not hear the conclusion of the 
 sentence (which would not have pleased her
 
 74 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 
 
 SO well, for she was a devoted admirer of 
 her husband's attainments), which was added 
 in a lower tone, " I likes her talk better 
 than his'n — it baint so long-winded loike." 
 
 It is true that the latter part of the pre- 
 scription was in most instances forgotten by 
 the less practical parson, although his good 
 wife was sure to remind him of it, as he 
 swung himself off through the little white 
 gate, on a "parish round," as though the 
 academical silk were still floating from his 
 shoulders, and his brows had been still 
 crowned with the three-cornered scholar's 
 cap. 
 
 '^Yes, my dear, certainly — I hear per- 
 fectly — don't scream," was his habitual reply 
 to her injunctions, which were as habitually 
 forgotten before the lane end was reached. 
 
 Reggie, the elder child of this quaint and, 
 as some would have pronounced, ill-matched 
 pair (although I do not by any means en- 
 dorse that opinion), was a noble child. His 
 remarkable personal beauty had been the 
 subject of universal comment during his in- 
 fancy, and as he developed into boyhood he
 
 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 75 
 
 fulfilled the promise of his spring. Of a 
 brave and commanding temper, he would 
 brook no rival or obstacle in his path to- 
 wards any object on which his affections or 
 his wishes were set ; and although selfish- 
 ness early developed itself as the main-spring 
 of his character, it was that masked selfish- 
 ness which we all worship under one guise 
 or another, as the boys all worshipped the 
 tyrant " Steerforth," at David Copperfield's 
 school. 
 
 It was not on the gentle yielding Harry 
 that Bessie played off her coquettish graces, 
 when she went to play with the boys at the 
 Rectory ; it was not for Harry that her eyes 
 were red when the lads went to school to- 
 gether for the first time, although his tears 
 were flowing as fast as her own, while 
 Reggie's only remark was '^Good-bye, Bessie, 
 don't pipe your eye — ^you know I can't stay 
 at home always like a girl." 
 
 Then came a time when the boys from 
 the Rectory lost all interest and attraction 
 for Bessie, accustomed as she was to the 
 chivalric tenderness and affection of grown
 
 76 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 
 
 men — when Reggie's rudeness and Harry's 
 schoolboy awkwardness disgusted and re- 
 pelled her. 
 
 " How are Reggie and Harry ?" she would 
 ask Mrs. Kingdom at this epoch in their 
 lives, merely by way of something to say, as 
 the families exchanged greetings after church 
 — ^greetings of that subdued tone as to colour, 
 not polite enough to be formal, or kind 
 enough to be familiar, which are exchanged 
 between intimate acquaintances who are not 
 friends, or connections who are relations 
 only in name. 
 
 The Squire and the Rector did not pull 
 very well together. The Squire, who was 
 fond of quizzing, delighted in a covert hit at 
 the parson, who had opposed him in certain 
 parish matters, in which he had believed in 
 his right to exercise his own individual judg- 
 ment. The tacit feud between the Hall and 
 the Rectory had reached such a height, in- 
 deed, that good Mrs. Kingdom's castles in 
 the air had long since toppled to the 
 ground, and she no longer indulged in day- 
 dreams with regard to a future union be-
 
 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 77 
 
 tween her idolized Reggie and the little girl 
 from the Hall, for the former had, during 
 the schoolboy epoch of his life, avoided any 
 approach to intimacy with his former play- 
 fellow, and Bessie, on her side, treated him 
 with indifference, if not with actual dislike. 
 The days of piping her eye for Reggie were 
 over, and remembered with disdain. '' How 
 could I ever have liked such a cub?" she 
 asked herself, as she had detected a smile 
 of derision on Reggie's lips as she made a 
 failure in the management of a mettlesome 
 pony. 
 
 Mr. Marchmont was for his part only too 
 well pleased that the present footing with 
 the Rectory should be maintained. He 
 and Reggie had a private quarrel of their 
 own, on the score of some poaching delin- 
 quency on the lad's part, which was an 
 offence the Squire had never been known to 
 forgive. 
 
 As time went on, however, the lad shot 
 up into a stripling, and exchanged school 
 for a university career. He was at home for
 
 78 TEIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 
 
 his first vacation, and the " little girl from 
 the Hall" was seventeen, an heiress, and 
 the prettiest girl in the county to boot.
 
 TRIALS OP AN HEIRESS. 79 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 " Miss Bradwardine was but just seventeen." 
 
 Waverly. 
 
 BESSIE MARCHMONT was to " come 
 out " on her seventeenth birthday, and 
 the event was looked forward to with no 
 little anxiety, for she had been very little 
 seen, and great anxiety prevailed to know 
 what " the heiress," as she was now pretty 
 generally designated, was like. A ball was 
 to be given in her honour — a ball at home, 
 at Marchmont, and the child, whose life had 
 been after all a lonely one, was wild with 
 excitement and delight. 
 
 " How do I look, papa?" she asked in the 
 innocent gaiety of her heart, as she danced 
 up to the Squire, heedless of disarranging 
 what a French maid would have called her
 
 80 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 
 
 " toilette," which was very perfect, though 
 simple ; the only ornament, being the white 
 rose which gleamed from among the folds 
 of the dark coil of hair at the back of her 
 head. 
 
 " Very fair." 
 
 " What a questionable compliment ! To 
 the excellence of mediocrity 1 do not aspire. 
 But seriously tell me, papa — shall I do ?" 
 
 " Tolerably. You only want one thing 
 to be complete, and that I think I can sup- 
 
 ply-" 
 
 As the Squire spoke he opened a red mo- 
 rocco case, out of which gleamed a set of 
 pearls, with diamond clasps. From the 
 necklace depended an antique heart-shaped 
 locket studded with pearls, and a fine ruby 
 in the centre. It was an heir-loom in the 
 Marchmont family. 
 
 " You shall wear this on your birth-night, 
 my love. The family jewels have never, I 
 think, been better bestowed, although never, 
 I imagine, before upon a "demoiselle." Your 
 poor mother wore these last on her wedding- 
 day."
 
 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 81 
 
 As he made this remark, which partook 
 of the nature of a sohloquy, the Colonel, 
 who was present, and who had looked up 
 suddenly at the last words, said, 
 
 " You surely would not give the child a 
 birthday present of the — of a bleeding 
 heart!" 
 
 "We do not call it by that name," 
 the Squire replied, looking much annoyed. 
 " What could have put such an idea into 
 your head ?" 
 
 The tone of the inquiry was sharp; and the 
 deep carnation hues which any emotion could 
 summon in an instant from the citadel of her 
 heart, dyed Bessie's cheek crimson, which 
 the Colonel perceiving, he hastened to re- 
 move the real or imaginary cause of annoy- 
 ance by saying, in an off-hand manner, " No 
 offence, Squire," and turning his back on the 
 unconscious trinket which had been the cause 
 of the tiff. 
 
 " Put it on, child," said Mr. Marchmont 
 to his daughter without taking notice of the 
 half apology thus tendered for his acceptance 
 by his guest ; but Bessie glanced at the Co- 
 
 VOL. I. G
 
 82 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 
 
 lonel, while the costly toy trembled in her 
 hand, and did not immediately obey. 
 
 "Without the locket, then, papa," she said 
 at last. " I do not like the name." 
 
 Her father made an angry ejaculation, 
 which brought tears into Bessie's eyes. 
 
 "Do not be angry, papa. I will wear it 
 if you like, only ^" 
 
 "Only you would rather not. Do as you 
 like; it belonged to your mother, and I 
 thought you might have valued it for her 
 sake." 
 
 " And so I do. Let me have it, please, 
 papa ; only I would rather have it to keep 
 than to wear if it is called by so sad a name. 
 By-the-by, Uncle Rex," she went on, deter- 
 mined to include him in the conversation, 
 " I have scarcely seen you since that dread- 
 ful morning when the poor child was sent 
 to prison. You could not face me after 
 that — having so signally failed in the mission 
 with which I entrusted you." 
 
 " Indeed I could not ; I have been laid 
 up with tic, too, and have been daily ex- 
 pecting a visit from you."
 
 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 83 
 
 " Well, it was very wrong of me, I own ; 
 but I was cross about that poor boy, was I 
 not, papa?" 
 
 " It is not for me to contradict you, my 
 dear. We have had a nice time of it, Col- 
 onel, I can tell you ; but to-night is to make 
 up for all." 
 
 ^' If Uncle Rex opens the ball with me ; 
 not unless." 
 
 "My dear child, how can you be so ridi- 
 culous — think of my poor leg." 
 
 "If it were a wooden one you would 
 have to dance with me to-night," Bessie re- 
 plied, as she arranged her necklace — without* 
 the pendant, however, which had not indeed 
 originally belonged to it — at an antique Ven- 
 etian glass, which had reflected many fair 
 faces in its day, but none fairer than the one 
 now reflected in its crystal depths. 
 
 " We shall do, I think," the Squire re- 
 marked, quite restored to good humour, 
 and addressing himself to the Colonel, who 
 was intently watching each graceful action 
 of the young girl ; " and," he added, appar- 
 ently to himself, " how like she is to her 
 
 g2
 
 84 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 
 
 poor mother to-night, and in that dress." 
 
 " I have forgotten something !" Bessie 
 suddenly exclaimed, and running out of the 
 room she left her father and the Colonel to 
 the full discussion of her charms. 
 
 " Her mother was a beautiful woman in 
 her day : but Bessie is the handsomer of the 
 two," the Squire remarked to his companion, 
 who seemed to be in a taciturn mood, and 
 who did not at once reply to the remark. 
 '' You never saw my wife." 
 
 At this home question Colonel Le Garde's 
 cheek paled. Recovering his self-possession, 
 however, he replied, 
 
 *' I had seen her as Miss Clavering be- 
 fore I went abroad. The resemblance is very 
 striking." 
 
 "You knew my wife? and you have 
 never told me so before." 
 
 " I never heard you mention Mrs. March- 
 mont until to-night. Squire — it was not for 
 me to break so sacred a seal." 
 
 "She had not a happy disposition : not a 
 sweet temper like Bessie's. I don't think it 
 was my fault, although I have my moods ;
 
 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 85 
 
 but slie was not a happy woman, poor Eliza- 
 beth. I wonder what makes me say this 
 to you, Colonel, to-night." 
 
 The Colonel, who seemed to flinch a lit- 
 tle from this confidence, made no reply. 
 The Squire, without being a intemperate man 
 as a rule, had sat longer than usual over his 
 wine on that evening, and to this fact, and 
 the excellence of the claret, the Colonel 
 attributed the fact of a confidence which he 
 would have been the last to invite ; and he 
 was relieved by the re-appearance of Bessie, 
 who returned out of breath, and flushed 
 with some recent exertion. 
 
 ** I have been to the green-house for 
 these," she said, holding up sprigs of gerani- 
 um and myrtle, and now I must make you 
 both smart — there will not be a young man 
 in the room to-night fit to hold a candle to 
 my two old ones." 
 
 So saying, and having pinned into their 
 button-holes the decorations for the night, 
 she carried them off to the ball-room, where 
 Mrs. Minching, the housekeeper, still ring- 
 leted and ribboned, and still open to a
 
 86 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 
 
 flirtation with a handsome under-butler, was 
 giving the finishing touches to her work. 
 
 " Is it not lovely ?" Bessie exclaimed, 
 clapping her hands, and beginning in her 
 childish glee to waltz round and round on 
 the waxed boards of the spacious saloon ; 
 when her g3Tations were interrupted by the 
 announcement of the arrival of Mr. and Mrs. 
 Kingdom, and Mrs. Duberry. 
 
 " And Mrs. wlio T said the Squire to his 
 daughter in a loud aside ; " I did not catch 
 the name." 
 
 "Mrs. Duberry, papa, the friend Mrs. 
 Kingdom mentioned in her note," Bessie 
 had only time to reply before the trio ad- 
 vanced upon them, the lady in question 
 being formally introduced, and explaining 
 herself in a set speech to the Squire, and in 
 a series of curtseys to Miss Marchmont, 
 which were like everything else about her — 
 overdone. 
 
 Mrs. Duberry was a handsome, striking- 
 looking woman, but her looks and her man- 
 ner struck Bessie unfavourably. " She glis- 
 tens all over like a snake," she thought ; and
 
 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 87 
 
 strong in her instincts, she received with 
 cold politeness the high-flown compliments 
 directed personally to her. 
 
 " Your birth-night, I understand, Miss 
 Marchmont — proud to be present on so 
 auspicious an occasion — charming rooms — 
 exquisite taste !" 
 
 " Pray don't say so — I assure you you 
 overrate us," was Miss Marchmont's chilling 
 reply to her gushing guest ; and she turned 
 to say a kind word to the Rector's wife, 
 homely Mrs. Kingdom, who was always ill 
 at ease when standing with her hands un- 
 occupied, which, busy enough at homej 
 seemed to hang somewhat heavily on the 
 good lady's mind, when it was a question of 
 their safe disposition abroad. 
 
 " Thank 3^ou, my dear, thank you — I 
 should like to take a seat somewhere, cer- 
 tainly — somewhere, my dear, out of the 
 way." 
 
 " Come with me. I will find you a nice 
 comfortable place, where you will see all 
 that is to be seen and not be bothered. 
 Not exactly where Queen Elizabeth would
 
 88 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 
 
 have put the bishop's wives — behind the 
 door," she added, with a smile, "but in this 
 snug corner in the ' cosery,' as papa calls it. 
 And now tell me who is your friend ?" 
 
 " She is not exactly a friend, my dear — 
 it was very good of you to let us bring her. 
 She is the mother of one of Reggie's Oxford 
 friends, who is staying with us, and he wished 
 us to ask her. You understand." 
 
 " Oh ! certainly. Her name is ?" 
 
 " Duberry. She is a widow, and, I be- 
 lieve, highly connected. Her husband was 
 a nephew of Lord Somebody's — but there, 
 I never can remember names. How nice 
 you are looking, my dear." 
 
 "I am glad you think so," Bessie replied. 
 She did not much value Mrs. Kingdom's 
 opinion in matters of dress, but she respect- 
 ed both her and her husband, and would 
 never join in papa's quizzing of the worthy 
 couple. 
 
 " My sons are coming later," Mrs. King- 
 dom informed her young hostess, as the 
 latter left her side to welcome some new 
 arrivals. " We are old-fashioned folks, and
 
 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 89 
 
 keep early hours. Reggie said we should be 
 the first in the room." 
 
 " Indeed," Miss Marchmont replied, coldly 
 enough. She did not wish to appear unduly 
 anxious on a subject which, if the truth must 
 be told, had occupied a certain share in her 
 speculations with regard to her enjoyment 
 of that night's festivities in her honour. 
 
 " Who is that singularly handsome young 
 man?" some one had asked her a few days 
 before, as she had exchanged greetings with 
 Reginald Kingdom in the street of the coun- 
 try town ; and looking upon him in a new 
 light, she acknowledged to herself that the ' 
 observation was one likely to be often re- 
 peated with regard to the playfellow of 
 former days, who had of later years fallen 
 into so much dis-esteem. 
 
 Now there are handsome men and 
 handsome men, and Miss Marchmont could 
 afford to be fastidious ; but even she ac- 
 knowledged that there was no fault to be 
 found with the exterior of the one in ques- 
 tion. Tall, but not too tall ; slight, but not 
 too slight ] well-dressed, but not a dandy —
 
 90 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 
 
 his handsome face onl}^ crowned the perfec- 
 tions of his figure ; and at two-and-twenty 
 Reginald Kingdom was not one w^hom eyes 
 feminine would be likely to overlook. He 
 had, too, not only a distinguished look, but 
 possessed those qualities which, like a cork- 
 belt to the swimmer, float him on the sur- 
 face of life without any exertion of his 
 own. 
 
 " Ccecus amor suV (which has been called 
 by a great divine one of the devil's three 
 great nets), which is essential to all success 
 in life, a cool head, and an expert and 
 ready hand, combined with a sufl&cient 
 amount of passion to give life and vigour to 
 the character, and a flow of animal spirits, 
 the fruit of a perfect constitution, and a san- 
 guine temperament, had made Reginald 
 Kingdom a formidable rival in competitive 
 examinations of every kind. 
 
 " Never beaten," he might have adopted 
 as his motto in whatever conflict he had en- 
 gaged ; and such was the prestige he had 
 gained, that it had become a by-word 
 amongst his school-fellow^s. " If Kingdom,
 
 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 91 
 
 Major, is tr3ang, there's no chance for any- 
 one else — he's safe to win." 
 
 Although Bessie had thrown as much in- 
 difference as she could into her tone and 
 manner in her reply to Mrs. Kingdom's 
 remark, her colour heightened perceptibly, 
 as the butler's next announcement was, 
 " Mr. Reginald Kingdom and Mr. Henry 
 Kingdom." " Master Henry Kingdom," he 
 was nearly saying with reference to the last- 
 named guest; and, indeed, he looked as 
 much younger as his brother did older than 
 his years — moreover, he was still at school. 
 
 Bessie Marchmont greeted the elder of' 
 the two brothers rather more shyly than 
 had been her wont. During the school-boy 
 epoch he had been so perfectly indifferent 
 to her, that her manner towards him had 
 unconsciously assumed the sort of careless 
 hauteur with which a very young girl can 
 treat a senior of some years of the opposite 
 sex. The disparaging commentary of "only 
 a boy," expressed very clearly in the fair 
 margin of a face over which the world's 
 breath has not as yet breathed. She was
 
 92 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 
 
 not certain how to address him. " Reggie " 
 was decidedly too familiar, she had never 
 known him as " Reginald," and '' Mr. King- 
 dom " was only associated in her mind with 
 the reverend papa, of whom Bessie stood 
 slightly in awe. He settled the question, 
 however, by taking the initiative in the 
 matter. 
 
 "Miss Marchmont, will you do me the 
 honour to dance the first dance with me ?" 
 
 " I shall be very happy," Bessie found 
 herself surprised into saying before she re- 
 membered her self-formed engagement with 
 " Uncle Rex." 
 
 "I am rewarded for being early, mo- 
 ther," Reginald remarked, looking kindly at 
 'the good lady as he spoke. "Do you 
 know," he added, addressing Bessie, whom 
 he seemed determined to appropriate, " I 
 had some difficulty in persuading her not to 
 invade you an hour ago ? ' Why, we shan^t 
 get there till bed-time,' she said, despond- 
 ingly." 
 
 Bessie could not help feeling in what a 
 new light these few words of her son's
 
 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 93 
 
 placed Mrs. Kingdom in her own imagina- 
 tion. The homely quaintness of speech and 
 idea which had so often bored the Squire, 
 and for which she herself also had felt a 
 sort of good-natured contempt, in spite of 
 her appreciation of the excellence of the 
 woman, appeared now to assume the dignity 
 of individuality and character, and were cer- 
 tainly handled by her unquestionably distin- 
 guished-looking son as things to be proud of. 
 
 Perhaps we never do dwell in public on 
 the peculiarities or little eccentricities of 
 those with whom we are connected by the 
 ties of kin, unless we are in our secret 
 hearts more proud than ashamed of them. 
 Who, for instance, was ever known to glory 
 thus indirectly in the habitual commission of 
 a superfluous, or omission of a necessary 
 " h," on the part of a blood relation ; al- 
 though the ignoble vice of niggardliness is 
 often made the subject of this spurious sa- 
 tire, not intended to be unkind. 
 
 *^ Your father wrote to me to take a fly 
 from the station," I heard one Eton lad ob- 
 serve to another, as he emerged from the
 
 94 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 
 
 shabbiest of hired vehicles on the lawn of a 
 reputed millionaire. 
 
 " All right, old fellow ; but he didn't offer 
 to pay for it, did he ?" was the reply, the 
 lad evidently entertaining the conviction 
 that he was by no means representing " the 
 governor " in this speech in anything but a 
 favourable light. 
 
 Reginald Kingdom's was one of those im- 
 perious natures which would raise to its own 
 level in the estimation of others any animate 
 or inanimate thing belonging to itself It 
 was his^ therefore it must be good. * Inferi- 
 ority of any kind he ignored as appertaining 
 in any way to himself. 
 
 It is, I must confess, much more agreeable 
 individually, or as regards oneself, when 
 one's relations possess the respectable strength 
 of character which prompts them to uphold 
 their own. Equally detestable is the weak- 
 ness which shows itself in the depreciating 
 -of everything which is embraced within the 
 circle of a "my." No one cares to be mo- 
 dest by proxy, and it is a taste for which few 
 have to thank their sponsors.
 
 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 95 
 
 " I can be modest for myself, and enter^ 
 tain humble ideas of my own merit ; but, 
 dear friend, spare yourself the pain and 
 humiliation of blushing or being ^ humble ' 
 for me," we feel irresistibly inclined to re- 
 mark* to such a friend or belonging ; and 
 good Mrs. Kingdom would have been just 
 the woman to have been made miserable by 
 the idea that her own homely breeding was 
 secretly despised by the son whom she 
 adored. 
 
 Mr. Kingdom, without intending to slight 
 his wife in public, laboured under an uneasy 
 consciousness that she was not in her natural 
 sphere in society, and if compelled to include 
 her in the' conversation, it was in a shy 
 nervous manner, and with an averted gaze, 
 that had once stung her to the quick. In 
 proportion, however, as she had been pained 
 by the Rector's neglect, did her proud 
 maternal heart swell with emotion when 
 she felt that she was made much of in public 
 by the son of her heart ; her honest eyes 
 filled with tears, and her busy hands, encased 
 in gloves much too long at the fingers,
 
 96 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 
 
 folded themselves to rest in her lap for the 
 night, "with an expression about them of per- 
 fect peace. 
 
 " They are the handsomest couple in the 
 room," she had had the satisfaction of hear- 
 ing some one remark, as her son and his 
 lovely partner stood up together to open 
 the ball. 
 
 Uncle Rex had released Bessie from her 
 previous engagement with a severely comic 
 reproach. 
 
 *^ Nobody axed you, ma'am," he said. "I 
 congratulate you on being so easily let off. 
 I believe I am the only man in the room 
 who would consider it in the light of a re- 
 prieve." 
 
 *'Well, well, the dear old man shant 
 dance unless he likes!" was the mocking 
 reply. ''But, Uncle Rex," she added, as 
 she rose to take her partner's arm, "before 
 you make any rash resolutions, look at papa T 
 
 The Squire was standing up to dance with 
 the handsome stranger, and was beckoning 
 to Bessie to take her place with her partner 
 as his vis-a-vis, Mrs, Duberry was all smiles
 
 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 97 
 
 and satin, but Miss Marchmont had con- 
 ceived an antipathy to her, and did not think 
 she looked at all bewitching. 
 
 " Do you think her handsome ?" Reginald 
 had asked her, as the side couples were 
 solemnly performing their appointed task. 
 
 " I suppose she is, but I cannot say that 
 I admire her," Bessie replied, rather shortly; 
 and then, thinking she had snubbed him 
 without intending the affront to him, she 
 added — " Is her son, your friend, like his 
 mother?" 
 
 "On the contrary — he is one of the ugliest 
 fellows you ever saw." 
 
 '' Is he fond of his mother ?" 
 
 " He adores her. You are surprised, and 
 no wonder ; she is scarcely one's idea of an 
 adorable woman, but it is true as regards 
 Duberry, nevertheless." 
 
 " She can only be a widow," was Bessie's 
 next remark, as she looked up archly into 
 her companion's face, while he wondered to 
 himself at the beautiful girl she had become. 
 He admired her extremely ; and although 
 they had known one another all their lives, 
 
 VOL. I. H
 
 98 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 
 
 the sensation was to him a new one, and sur- 
 prised himself. 
 
 " Why do you think so ?'' he asked, in 
 answer to her suggestion. 
 
 *' Because she has that hard self-conscious 
 look which women get when they have only 
 themselves to think of." 
 
 " You are become a shrewd observer of 
 character, Miss Marchmont." 
 
 ^' I like studying people; and I am con- 
 ceited enough to think that I am not often 
 deceived. Who is it who says that, with 
 regard to character, first impressions are 
 always the right ones ? I am sure I should 
 never like Mrs. Duberry ; or that if I were 
 betrayed into it, I should dislike her more 
 than ever after for the temporary aberra- 
 tion." 
 
 " I don't think you would ever experience 
 it — she is of the genus humbug, and alto- 
 gether as artificial as you are " 
 
 ^' Genuine, you may add, if you please. 
 I don't care to be flattered, but I think I am 
 thaC 
 
 The music struck up a fresh figure, and
 
 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 99 
 
 Bessie was too genuinely conscientious in the 
 performance of her steps to continue the 
 conversation — a fact rather displeasing to 
 her partner, who wanted to hear her talk. 
 
 ^' Do you always dance so literally ?"*at 
 last he asked. /'I believe you do all the 
 steps." 
 
 " And why should I i^ot ? — is it not fash- 
 ionable ? You forget that this is my first 
 ball. We always did the steps at the dancing- 
 school." 
 
 "So I presume; but you would break 
 down in your trial stakes if 5^ou danced all 
 the square dances as you have danced th6» 
 quadrille." 
 
 " You are satirical, I fear, Mr. Kingdom." 
 
 " How strange it sounds to hear you call 
 me so. Are we not a little formal, Miss 
 Marchmont T 
 
 '' I am not the ' little mrl from the Hall ' 
 now," was the quick reply; "and I do not 
 remember that you ever called me anything 
 else." 
 
 " The tables are turned — you had to put 
 up with my domineering ways then ; be 
 
 h2
 
 100 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 
 
 generous, and don't remind me of them 
 now." 
 
 Bessie only blushed a reply. The room 
 had been comparatively empty, but more 
 guests were arriving, and she had to receive 
 and be introduced at the same time. 
 
 " Proud, I'm sure, of the honour," said 
 many a country gentleman whom Mr. March- 
 mont had been in the habit of meeting con- 
 stantly in the hunting-field, or on the bench, 
 but who had never before penetrated behind 
 the scenes of the widower's long retirement 
 from the world at Marchmont. In former 
 days, indeed, the stately figure and beautiful 
 face of his wife had adorned the same scene ; 
 but his little girl and heiress had grown up 
 there in her loveliness, seen but by very 
 few of the Squire's more intimate friends 
 and neighbours. 
 
 No Belgravian mother could have nego- 
 tiated her daughter's introduction into the 
 world better than the Squire had done, who 
 piqued himself upon thoroughly understand- 
 ing the subject in question. There could be 
 no doubt on the subject of his understand-
 
 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 101 
 
 ing the art of entertaining, in which he was 
 aided and abetted by a housekeeper anxious 
 to display her talents, and by servants who 
 thoroughly understood their business. 
 
 *' Bessie shall have no household cares," 
 her father had always maintained ; and per- 
 haps the retrospective vision of a handsome 
 weary face at the head of his table, and of 
 the clouded brow which was always the 
 herald of some "bother about the servants," 
 or a " morning with the books," had strength- 
 ened the determination in his mind. It was 
 hardly perhaps the best school for a young 
 girl to have all the prestige of a well-ordered 
 establishment, without any of its responsi- 
 bilities ; but it was very pleasant to Bessie 
 to be relieved of the sordid cares and anx- 
 ieties with which many young shoulders, in 
 these days of early marriages, are burdened 
 before their time. 
 
 The widow, Mrs. Duberry, did not dance 
 again, although she was invited to do so. 
 " Only with you," she said, smiling sweetly 
 on the Squire, after dismissing a shy youth, 
 who, struck with the shining satin and teeth
 
 102 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 
 
 of the lady, had risen from the depths like 
 a salmon at a gaudy fly. " My dancing days 
 are over, but perhaps Miss Marchmont will 
 allow me to introduce my son." 
 
 Bessie had turned rather haughtily at the 
 mode of address, for Mrs. Duberry, to at- 
 tract her attention, had placed her jewelled 
 hand lightly upon her arm ; but she smiled 
 as her eyes encountered those of one of the 
 ugliest fellows you ever saw ; for they were 
 honest eyes, and bright and intelligent to 
 boot; and as such Bessie, who prided herself 
 upon her quick perception of character, had 
 read them at the first glance. 
 
 " I do not think your friend so ugly," she 
 remarked later in the evening; ^'he has a 
 good face and a clever one." 
 
 ^^ There you are right, Miss Marchmont, 
 as usual," her companion answered ; '' he's 
 one of the cleverest fellows going. He was 
 called Syntax Duberry at Eton, because he 
 was such a fellow at composition; but I won- 
 der you don't think him ugly." 
 
 " I don't at all," was the dry reply — " or
 
 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 103 
 
 if I do I like his ugliness mucli better than 
 his mother's good looks." 
 
 *' There again I agree with you. Bertie's 
 essentially a good fellow, which the widow 
 — between ourselves — is not." 
 
 " Hardly," Bessie replied, laughing mer- 
 rily. She had thoroughly enjoyed herself, 
 and was looking as fresh as a rose as she 
 said " good-night " to the last of her 
 guests. 
 
 The "Rectory people," as the servants 
 rather contemptuously called the Kingdoms 
 and their guests, walked home through the 
 shrubberies ; and the young men, falling be* 
 hind their elders, who were tired, and, as a 
 natural consequence, cross, discussed the 
 charms of their young hostess in very glow- 
 ing and enthusiastic terms. 
 
 At least one of them did — and that one 
 was Herbert Duberry, commonly called Ber- 
 tie Duberrywhom Bessie did not think ugly, 
 while he pronounced her the most beautiful 
 creature he had ever beheld. 
 
 Reginald appeared to be too much occu-
 
 104 TKIALS OF AN HEIKESS. 
 
 pied with his cigar, which did not draw pro- 
 perly, to reply to this remark ; and at last 
 turning to his brother, who was following at 
 a discreet distance behind — for of his two 
 seniors he stood somewhat in awe — said in 
 kindly authoritative accents, 
 
 " Just run in, like a good fellow, and get 
 us a light ,- and let Nep out of the study, 
 will you? We'll have a weed before we 
 turn in." 
 
 Even Reginald, the spoiled darling of 
 both his parents, had never as yet been al- 
 lowed to smoke in the house. The thin end 
 of the wedge was being, it is true, gradually 
 inserted, but the reign of " Tobacco," as it 
 reigns and rules now, could scarcely have 
 been said to have begun. 
 
 " I like the smell of a cigar," said the in- 
 nocent young debutante of eighteen to the 
 young guardsman, from whose short mous- 
 tache ascended the spiral curl of smoke, fill- 
 ing the cool dews of evening — that delicious 
 evening for the debutante and the guardsman 
 — with its perfume. But before that inno- 
 cent creature is a wife of five-and-twenty,
 
 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 105 
 
 anotlier sentence has become familiar to 
 her matronly hps — " Hoio I hate the smell 
 of that nasty pipe /"
 
 106 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 " She's beautiful, and therefore to be woo'd ; 
 She's a woman, and therefore to be won." 
 
 Shakespeare. 
 
 BESSIE MARCHMONT was no longer 
 a child. She had learnt even in the 
 short space occupied by her launch into the 
 world, to see herself as others saw her ; a 
 person of no little importance, not only as a 
 matter of course to "Papa" and "Uncle Rex," 
 but as a member of the society which formed 
 her world. 
 
 She had also, although but seventeen, al- 
 ready set her foot upon enchanted ground. 
 She had tasted the first drop of that draught 
 so sweet to all women — of the unfeigned ad- 
 miration of one whose admiration any woman 
 might be proud to win. 
 
 Reginald Kingdom had made open pro-
 
 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 107 
 
 fession of his allegiance since tlie niglit of 
 the ball ; and he was also fast becoming an 
 object of awakened interest to Bessie herself. 
 What more could a man with a grain of 
 sense wish for, in the callow imagination of 
 a week old ? 
 
 The " Rectory people," a collective phrase 
 which formerly conveyed to the mind of the 
 young mistress of the Hall the embodiment 
 of much that was dull, prosaic, common- 
 place and excellent, assumed a new meaning 
 in her eyes. Even the dashing widow, at 
 first an object of antipathy to her, managed 
 so far to ingratiate herself in Miss March-' 
 mont's good graces as to be tolerated in the' 
 form of a chaperone. 
 
 Mrs. Duberry was a clever "woman of 
 the world,*' wise in her generation, and she 
 found it convenient to make the Rectory 
 her pied a terre during the vacation of the 
 two young men. She was not rich, but had 
 tact enough to appear so ; no one knew bet- 
 ter than she did the expediency of keeping all 
 sordid cares in the background, when it is an 
 object to attract the admiration of the other
 
 108 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 
 
 sex. No man could liave believed, in the so- 
 ciety of the brilliant debonnaire, Mrs. Duber- 
 ry, that such cares had ever had a place in 
 her breast. Perhaps the elegant writing-desk, 
 from which little perfumed notes were wont 
 to emanate, if rifled of its contents, might 
 have told a different tale. 
 
 It was in the earlier days of croquet, 
 before it had developed into the " noble sci- 
 ence " which it has since become ; and Mrs. 
 Duberry, who gloried in the possession of a 
 foot and ankle of remarkable symmetry, was 
 enthusiastic in pursuit of the game. 
 
 To the horror of Mr. Kingdom, who de- 
 lighted in the verdure and velvety smooth- 
 ness of the lawn, and who numbered amongst 
 his refined and scholar-like tastes a passion 
 for the cultivation of his flower garden, a 
 box one day arrived from the station, con- 
 taining the implements, which were to prove 
 implements of torture to him, in more ways 
 than one. 
 
 " I don't in the least understand, my dear 
 Madam, what it is all about," he would 
 feebly remonstrate, in plaintive accents to
 
 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 109 
 
 his tormentress, who, in the richest of looped- 
 up silks, and in the most exquisite of Paris- 
 ian chaussures, would suddenly appeal to him 
 as to the excellence of a stroke (to which 
 perhaps a pet fuschia or new geranium 
 had fallen victims), directed by her skilful 
 hand. 
 
 ^^ Let me explain it to you. Give your 
 father a mallet, Mr. Reginald — you shall take 
 my other ball ; your object, my dear sir, you 
 perceive is " 
 
 "" Excuse me — I beg — I am too old-fash- 
 ioned for these new-fangled pastimes — 
 indeed you must excuse me " 
 
 And as his eyes fell upon one of the 
 decimated geranium beds, the worthy man 
 nearly fell backwards over one of the hoops 
 in his precipitate retreat from the scene of ac- 
 tion. Even in his study, however, which was 
 held sacred from womankind, the incessant 
 knocking about of the balls, and the sharp 
 reports of the successful " croquets," nearly 
 shook the good man out of his chair, and 
 caused him to mutter something more like a 
 malediction than would have been allowed,
 
 110 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 
 
 in a moment of less irritation to his suscepti- 
 ble nerves, to have passed his lips. 
 
 But Mrs. Duberry had not been at the 
 pains to introduce the game of croquet at the 
 Rectory, with the sole idea of enlisting the 
 inmates there in the cause ; and the secret 
 of her more far-sighted diplomacy soon came 
 to light. 
 
 " Do you know," she said, in her lively 
 off-hand way, and swinging her mallet care- 
 lessly in her hand as she spoke, " that I 
 think both of you young men decidedly slow 
 — here we are everyday playing matches with 
 three (for Harry is no good, I don't count 
 him), when there is the prettiest girl in the 
 country within a stone's throw of us." 
 
 " If Bessie has only half the ^ go ' in her 
 which she used to have, she'd only be too 
 glad to join us. I've a great mind to go 
 and ask her," was Reginald's reply to this 
 remark. 
 
 " Suppose you do — shall I kill you, and 
 have it out with Bertie alone ? I'm afraid 
 you'll never forgive me, though — there !"
 
 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. Ill 
 
 The pink ball, Mrs. Duberry's favourite, 
 had swiftly skimmed half the length of the 
 croquet-ground, and roqueted the dark blue, 
 which Reginald had chosen as the university 
 colour. 
 
 " Splendid !" he exclaimed eagerly ; and 
 as his adversary lightly poised her foot upon 
 her own ball, and laughingly appealed to 
 him as to whether or not he ^' wished to be 
 killed," he replied by immediately giving 
 her a line with his own mallet, and saying, 
 " Of course I do." 
 
 " Perhaps I shall fail, after all." 
 
 " You make me nervous." 
 
 " Then I will put you out of your misery 
 at once ; there, you are dead, and free to 
 go upon a more pleasing errand." 
 
 " Thank you a thousand times — I'm off," 
 was the young man's reply, and he quickly 
 disappeared in the direction of the Hall, 
 Mrs. Duberry's expression of countenance 
 losing some of the sprightliness which had 
 characterised it, and even displaying signs of 
 temper, as her own son said, in accents of 
 mock reproach,
 
 112 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 
 
 " You always play into everyone's hands 
 but mine, mother, dear." 
 
 " It's no use your thinking of the heiress, 
 if that's what you mean, Bertie ; she likes 
 Eeginald, as you could see plainly enough 
 for yourself, if you would." 
 
 " I do not care for the ' heiress,' as you 
 always call her, mother, but I think Bessie 
 Marchmont the prettiest and the nicest girl 
 I ever met ; and if Kingdom can win her, 
 why, he's a lucky fellow, that's all." 
 
 " Hush, my dear, hush ! — you talk so 
 loud," his mother said, in low tones, for her 
 quick ear had caught sound of a step in the 
 gravel walk, on the other side of the shrub- 
 bery which shut in the croquet-ground, and 
 it was a step Avhich she thought she knew. 
 
 She was not mistaken. There was no 
 mistaking the figure of the man who ad- 
 vanced to meet her, and whom she advanced 
 to meet with extended hand and a slight 
 increase of colour, which might have been 
 attributed to the sudden emotion of pleasure 
 which the unexpected arrival of the Squire 
 had called up, but which was in reality
 
 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 113 
 
 caused by the fear that Bertie's reckless 
 speech might have been overheard, and a 
 week's acquaintance with Mr. Marchmont 
 had not been unimproved so far as to leave 
 Mrs. Duberry in the dark as to his pet aver- 
 sions and sacred prejudices. She knew well 
 how unwelcome to him would be the idea 
 of Reginald's aspiring to the hand of his 
 daughter and heiress, and her own scheme, 
 which had for its object to work upon those 
 prejudices, was not as yet matured. 
 
 ''This is really good of you," she said, 
 soon recovering from her transient confu- 
 sion, and rewarding the Squire with one of 
 her sweetest smiles for the struggle he had 
 made with himself to set aside the conven- 
 tionalities in making a call not of ceremony 
 at the Rectory, which had for its object the 
 fascinating lady who was the Rectory guest. 
 A fact it was that lady's policy not to ac- 
 cept without some coquettish demur on her 
 own part. 
 
 " Bertie, my dear, let Mrs. Kingdom 
 know — good soul, she is engaged in house- 
 hold cares, no doubt." 
 
 VOL. I. I .
 
 114 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 
 
 " Don't disturb her, pray," the Squire 
 said, with a shrug of his shoulders, intended 
 to convey to Mrs. Duberry how little inter- 
 est he took in the matter ; and Bertie, who 
 had been standing, mallet in hand, an 
 amused spectator of this last episode in his 
 mother's systematic course of flirtation, un- 
 derstood the injunction too well to institute 
 any particular search after good Mrs. King- 
 dom, who was turning the heel of one of 
 Reginald's stockings in what she always 
 called " the parlour," and who would have 
 been equally thankful to be left at peace, 
 and in happy unconsciousness of the Squire's 
 visit. 
 
 Reginald, in the meantime, was on his way 
 to the Hall, only to find no one " at home " 
 on his arrival there. 
 
 " Mr. Marchmont and Miss Marchmont 
 were out riding, only round the farms," Mr. 
 Serschal the butler beheved, " for Miss 
 Marchmont had ordered the pony, as she was 
 not going far." 
 
 As Reginald retraced his steps slowly^ 
 having taken the "• old road " in preference
 
 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 115 
 
 to the drive, which afforded no shade, he 
 heard the sound of hoofs, cantering up the 
 green sward behind him ; and he became 
 suddenly alive to the fact that there was only 
 one set of hoofs — -the heavy thud of Selim's, 
 the Squire's favourite hack, not forming the 
 usual accompaniment to the light bounding 
 foot-fall of Bessie's thorough-bred pony 
 "Meg." 
 
 The animal, which was naturally spirited, 
 was as much as Bessie could manage, when 
 its heels were on the turf, and her head 
 turned hbmewards, so that she had shot 
 past Reginald like an arrow from a bow 
 before she could restrain the impetuosity 
 of her steed. 
 
 " Meg is a little too much for you stilly I 
 am afraid. Miss Marchmont," was Reginald's 
 mischievous allusion to some recently made 
 confidence, as raising his hat, with one hand, 
 he patted the curving neck of the beautiful 
 but fretful pony with tlie other. 
 
 " She is a little demon to pull, as you 
 would find out if you were on her back in- 
 
 I 2
 
 116 TEIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 
 
 stead of me ; but she is not too much for me 
 now. Have you seen papa?" 
 
 " No, I was told up at the Hall that he 
 was ridmg with you." 
 
 " We set out together, but separated ; we 
 were to have met again at Lippet farm ; but 
 I could not see or hear anything of him, 
 and Meg was in no humour for standing 
 about — the flies were driving her wild." 
 
 Reginald blessed the flies in his heart, as 
 he gazed into the most beautiful eyes he had 
 ever seen, and said, " I am glad that I have 
 not missed you, for I have come up to-day 
 with a particular request ; we want you to 
 come and learn croquet — Mrs. Duberry is a 
 famous hand at it. Will you come to the 
 Rectory to-morrow afternoon and begin ?" 
 
 " I should like it of all things," was the 
 reply, " but I do not quite know — " 
 
 The rest of the sentence was a vivid blush, 
 which glowed through her transparent skin, 
 and greatly enhanced her beauty in Regin- 
 ald's eyes. 
 
 It was fortunate indeed that Miss March - 
 mont blushed so becomingly, for she had a
 
 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 117 
 
 habit of blushing. Her blood had not learnt 
 to stagnate in her young veins, nor did she in 
 any way resemble the heroines of the Lon- 
 don season, so graphically described in the 
 ^'Saturday'' not very long ago. 
 
 " The life of the woman, even as a mere 
 animal, becomes poor and morbid and arti- 
 ficial," was the epitome of the verdict upon 
 the physical qualities of the modern young 
 lady — the foolish virgins, and the dashing 
 young " fellows," so opposed in every par- 
 ticular to the type represented by the 
 "poor, simple girls, who only repeat the 
 lives and morals of old-fashioned English 
 homes, and who are too respectable and too 
 modest to be pointed out as the girls of the 
 season." 
 
 Bessie Marchmont had been reared amidst 
 the traditions of the past, and was as far re- 
 moved from the modern fast girl, as though 
 she had been born half a century before, and 
 had established as a model one of the dig- 
 nified heroines of an Edgworth or a Scott. 
 
 She did not therefore meet Reginald's in- 
 vitation with the " All riglit, old fellow,"
 
 118 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 
 
 style of the girl of the period. She was acute- 
 ly conscious of the fact that she had been 
 very little at the Rectory, since the days of 
 happy memory, when she went there to play 
 with " the boys ;" and added to her maiden 
 diffidence in seeking it, now that one of the 
 boys at least was grown up, the conviction 
 that the Squire would strongly disapprove 
 of any growing intimacy in that quarter 
 made her hesitate and blush. 
 
 As narrow in his prejudices as he was 
 warm in his affections (for although not de- 
 monstrative, Mr. Marchmont had feeling, 
 and deep ones), " papa " was particularly 
 tenacious about having his likes and dislikes 
 respected in the bosom of his own family. 
 His was a " love me love my dog " sort of 
 nature, and the proverb held good taking 
 the opposite hypothesis, '' love me, and kick 
 the dog that belongs to my neighbour, who 
 is not my friend." 
 
 It was a rock on which he and his wife 
 had split their domestic happiness years be- 
 fore Bessie was born, and she had been 
 made to feel from her babyhood almost
 
 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 119 
 
 how deeply her father could resent any 
 transgression upon the preserve of his preju- 
 dices. These feelings, contending with the 
 quick flash of pleasure which the invitation 
 had conveyed, had made her hesitate, and 
 had made her blush ; but annoyed with her- 
 self for making her want of self-possession so 
 manifest, she gave Meg a flick on the ear 
 with her riding- whip, causing the mettlesome 
 beast to rear to such an extent that Reginald 
 Kingdom thought it incumbent upon him 
 not only to seize the rein, but to detain the 
 rein in his keeping during the rest of the 
 interview. 
 
 " If you will promise to come," he said, 
 as soon as Meg, under this new regime, was 
 reduced to quiescence, '^I will put off my en- 
 gagement at Abingley. What possible objec- 
 tion can there be ? That is, if you wish it," 
 he added, with an ever so slight inflection 
 of haughtiness in his voice, and a grasp that 
 perceptibly relaxed its hold upon the pony's 
 rein, for he was offended at Bessie's hesita- 
 tion. 
 
 " I am afraid it is impossible to-morrow,"
 
 120 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 
 
 she said, quick on her side to interpret these 
 signs, and as ready to resent them. *' Papa 
 wishes me to ride with him to the Abbey — 
 so pray don't think of putting off your en- 
 gagement for me." 
 
 " The sacrifice would not be a very great 
 one on my part." 
 
 *' Perhaps not ; but in any case it would 
 be hardly worth while." 
 
 " The ' worth of the while ' depends en- 
 tirely upon your wishes in the matter. I 
 need not tell you what mine are, Bessie." 
 
 It was the first time that he had ventured 
 upon the familiarity which their former 
 childish intimacy might have excused. Bes- 
 sie looked a little surprised — perhaps a little 
 pleased — perhaps a little alarmed. 
 
 '^What would papa say?" was her first 
 thought. Certainly that dear papa, so in- 
 dulgent in some ways, so exigeant and par- 
 ticular in others, was becoming the least bit 
 of a bug-bear to those young people, who 
 were beginning to discover that they were 
 very much in love. 
 
 " Please do not expect me. I cannot
 
 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 121 
 
 promise," she said at last ; and then, fearing 
 she had been too abrupt, she added, blush- 
 ing, and bending over Meg's neck as she said 
 the words — " I am not my own mistress, or 
 I certainly would." 
 
 ** Who is to prevent you?" 
 
 " Papa — if you must know — and perhaps 
 Uncle Rex." 
 
 " Hang Uncle Rex ! What has he to do 
 with you, I should like to know?" 
 
 " A great deal more than you think ; but, 
 seriously," she went on, "it is difficult for me 
 to explain to you, Reggie, but I think you 
 must see that if we were always going to 
 the Rectory, now that you — that you and 
 Harry are at home," she added, as if she had 
 in some measure got over her difficulty, 
 " people would say — people, I mean, would 
 think — perhaps that it was odd." 
 
 " Is that all, Bessie ? I should have 
 thought you could afford to despise gossips ; 
 besides, in your position of the ' young lady 
 from the Hall,' you need scarcely be afraid 
 of being accused of running after Harry and 
 me."
 
 122 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 
 
 There was something so inexpressibly 
 comic to Bessie, who always had had a keen 
 sense of the ridiculous in the idea of the 
 Marchmont heiress, in her newly-fledged 
 dignity of a come-out young lady, running 
 after Harry Kingdom, with his baa-sheep, 
 schoolboy manners, that she burst into a 
 merry peal of laughter. 
 
 "Don't be so ridiculous," she said; and 
 then to turn the subject, she began talk- 
 ing fast and eagerly upon the subject of 
 Joey and the coming assizes, strictly forbid- 
 ding Reggie in her presence to designate the 
 boy as the " miserable little cad,'.' which he 
 had once ventured to do in her hearing. 
 
 " You don't see the poetry of the thing," 
 she was in the act of remonstrating, when 
 the appearance of a handsome, somewhat 
 portly figure on horseback coming down the 
 avenue at a gentle amble called the tell-tale 
 blood again to her cheeks. She knew that 
 the Squire would be displeased, and had an 
 instinctive feeling that he would snub Regi- 
 nald, whom he greatly disliked. 
 
 There was nothing to do, hov/ever, now.
 
 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 123 
 
 but to stand her ground, and put as good a 
 face on the matter as she could ; and as her 
 father rode up, with an ommous scowl on 
 his brow, Bessie, with a view to forestal any 
 uncourteous remark, addressed him with 
 
 " I went round to Lippit Lane to meet 
 you, papa, and called at the farm ; but no 
 one could tell me anything of you, so I took 
 Meg a canter round the Park." 
 
 " By way of the shortest way home, I 
 suppose, my dear !" 
 
 There was irony in the Squire's tones; 
 and his daughter, who was vexed with him 
 for his uncalled-for rudeness to Reginald,' 
 to whom he had only vouchsafed the cold- 
 est of nods, by way of bringing matters to a 
 climax, said, 
 
 "Mr. Kingdom has been to call upon you, 
 papa." 
 
 ''I am obliged to Mr. Kingdom," was the 
 curt reply, accompanied by what I can only 
 describe as an ironical salute, which, accom- 
 panied as it was by a curl of the upper lip, 
 was anything but flattering to the recipient 
 of the civility.
 
 124 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 
 
 "I have just been at the Rectory." 
 
 " Indeed ! If I had known where you were 
 going, I might have accompanied you. Mrs. 
 Duberry has been good enough to offer to 
 teach me croquet, a new game, in which I 
 hear she greatly excels. Perhaps you have 
 been already initiated, papa ?" 
 
 This was Bessie's retort courteous upon 
 her father, for the ironical salute, and the 
 snub to herself, in consideration of which, 
 being unable to box his daughter's ears he 
 awarded a stinging slap with the loop of 
 leather at the end of his riding-whip to 
 Selim in the tender neighbourhood of his 
 ear, which causing the good horse to start 
 forward with a bound, afforded an oppor- 
 tunity to his unreasonable rider for pulling 
 him back upon his haunches, by the means 
 of a punishing bit. 
 
 " Papa is a picture on horseback," Bessie 
 used to say of the Squire, when in one of 
 her fond moods ; but to be candid it was 
 not a picture greatly to be appreciated by 
 either herself or her companion in that par- 
 ticular instance.
 
 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 125 
 
 The one week which had elapsed since 
 Bessie's " coming out" had made a differ- 
 ence between the relations of parent and 
 child. The Squire was just the nature to 
 pet and indulge a child, and to exercise an 
 undue and over- weening authority over the 
 more mature will of the woman. 
 
 Contending interests can try the peace of 
 the most affectionate families ; and those of 
 the father and daughter were beginning to 
 pull at opposite ends of the string. 
 
 She for her part had hailed with natural 
 pleasure the contact with young minds 
 and natures, the absence of which had 
 formed the one great blank in her life ; and 
 Mr. March mont had begun to feel, with the 
 sensitive acuteness peculiar to his tempera- 
 ment, that objects of interest were present- 
 ing themselves to her mind which had no 
 connection with himself, or even with her 
 precise favourite the Colonel. 
 
 They rode home together without an at- 
 tempt to break the silence on either side ; 
 and the Squire bestowed uncomplimentary 
 epithets on the groom who came to take
 
 126 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 
 
 his horse, a sure sign that his temper had 
 suffered violence in its contact with the outer 
 world. 
 
 " Evil is the disturbing effect which mat- 
 ter exerts upon mind," was the substance 
 of the Platonic doctrine, a truth less ele- 
 gantly rendered by the domestics at the 
 Hall, who were apt on such occasions as the 
 foregoing to say to one another, "Master's 
 got a touch of the gout — look out for 
 squalls."
 
 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 127 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 " He who the sword of heaven will bear 
 Should be as holy as severe ; 
 Patteru in himself to know, 
 Grace to stand, and virtue go. 
 More or less to others praying 
 Than by self offences weighing." 
 
 Measure for Measure. 
 
 FORTUNATELY, or unfortunately for 
 Joey, as the case might prove, the 
 autumn Assizes trod very closely on the 
 heels of his committal for trial. His guilt 
 or innocence would there be proved, and 
 his fate decided ; and he had one friend 
 at least who looked forward to the result 
 with pitying anxiety. That one friend I 
 need scarcely add was Bessie Marchmont, 
 whose sympathies had been so warmly en- 
 listed in favour of the vagabond child. 
 Great excitement prevailed in the town
 
 128 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 
 
 and its immediate neighbourhood, for a 
 great murder case was coming on for trial, 
 the circumstances attending which had great- 
 ly occupied the pubhc mind for some weeks 
 previously. Ladies had ordered new bon- 
 nets, in which to watch the agony of a fellow- 
 creature, one of their own sex, for the crim- 
 inal was a woman ; and tickets for the 
 Assize ball, literally to prove perhaps a 
 dance of death, had been issued and secured 
 with unusual promptitude. 
 
 The select circle of the Close society 
 made extensive preparations for the enter- 
 tainment of their friends from the country ; 
 and the two judges and the leading counsel 
 on the circuit, received so many invitations, 
 that the elder judge, who was a hon-vivant, 
 and a lover of society, observed to his 
 learned brother that it was Teinharras des 
 richesses ; to which that gentleman replied, 
 with a grunt not at all expressive of satis- 
 faction, that he, on the contrary, considered 
 it in the light of '^ a choice of evils." 
 
 The wretched prisoner herself became an 
 object of morbid interest and speculation,
 
 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 129 
 
 and sucli observations as the following might 
 have been heard exchanged by chance ac- 
 quaintances in the streets the day before the 
 trial : — 
 
 " They say she is a fair, harmless-looking 
 woman, with a particularly sweet smile. 
 She is convinced that the Queen will never 
 let them hang a woman — she told the female 
 turnkey so last night." 
 
 "I should like awfully to see her. I 
 wonder if I could get an order to go over 
 the jail before the trial." 
 
 " She's very affable and condescending to 
 all visitors, I'm told. Only you are particu- 
 larly requested ' not to touch.' " 
 
 The last was perhaps the remark of some 
 young briefless barrister lounging about the 
 town, and wondering whether he himself 
 should ever be a " big wig," hurrying to the 
 Courts, with the business of life and death 
 on his hands. 
 
 And the prisoner, the miserable being 
 herself, with lurid eyes turned inward on 
 her own past, or looking speculatively for- 
 ward to her own future — she was in the 
 
 VOL. I. K
 
 130 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 
 
 depths, and the current of life, of talk, of 
 gossip, of which she and her dark fate 
 formed so frequent a topic, flowed on, and 
 left her in her silent agony below the sym- 
 pathies, if not beneath the curiosity of the 
 humanity which she had so terribly out- 
 raged. 
 
 How few there are in the world the 
 height of whose virtues, or the depth of 
 whose crimes, have raised them or sunk 
 them to this self-absorption and indifference 
 to the concerns of the rest of the world. 
 To contain a world within the sphere of 
 one's own being, and that world either a 
 heaven or a hell — it is an awful consideration 
 that there are some on whom circumstance 
 or crime has thus forced the crushing weight 
 of their own identity. It would be an awful 
 consideration if there were only one. 
 
 The judges had entered the town, and 
 had been to the cathedral to be preached to 
 by the sheriff's young chaplain, who indeed 
 believed that his oration had made a deep 
 impression upon Mr. Baron Kennifeg, the 
 bland and courteous judge, who had indeed
 
 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 131 
 
 complimented the young divine, and shaken 
 hands with him after the service was con- 
 cluded. 
 
 " What was the text ?" he had inquired, 
 in an under-tone to his marshal, as he be- 
 held the young aspirant to fame led up un- 
 der the wing of the Dean ; and that gentle- 
 man, not being in a position to supply the 
 information required quite correctly, inter- 
 larded with the original text a formula of 
 his own invention, which, when quoted by 
 the learned Judge, created some confusion 
 and mystification in the mind of the chap- 
 lain, who, however, expressed himself as 
 duly honoured by the encouragement so 
 affably conveyed. 
 
 Mr. Baron Kennifeg and Mr. Justice 
 Braye both dined at the Deanery that even- 
 ing, accompanied by their marshals, and by 
 the leading counsel on the circuit, to the 
 cleverest of whom was confided the defence 
 of the wretched woman whose crime had 
 attained a world-wide notoriety. 
 
 The Squire and his daughter were staying 
 at the Deanerv for that week. He was on 
 
 k2
 
 132 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS.' 
 
 the grand jury, and with a natural love of 
 ease and comfort, was glad to be in such 
 good quarters for the time that he must ne- 
 cessarily spend in the town ; and the ar- 
 rangement had proved also to Bessie's lik- 
 ing, for there were young girls flitting 
 about the shady old house in the cloisters — 
 young girls of her own age, filling with 
 laughter and glee the old-fashioned terrace- 
 gardens sloping down to the river, the 
 smooth lawns of which were already pro- 
 faned with the croquet-hoops, over which 
 the short-sighted, short-winded, good-natured 
 Dean would invariably trip when he came 
 out in the cool of the evening to have a chat 
 with his girls. 
 
 " These Deanery girls," as they were 
 called collectively in the exclusive society 
 of the Close, were three high-spirited, 
 charming young women, with plenty of 
 what Reginald Kingdom would have called 
 " go " in them, without ever verging upon 
 the terrible adjective "fast." They were 
 fond of riding, dancing, croquet, and music ; 
 but they did not talk stable or scandal, nor
 
 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 133 
 
 was that terrible feature of modern female 
 depravity, slang, ever known to profane the 
 portals of their ruby lips. They would 
 doubtless have been considered '* slow " and 
 old-fashioned in other society but that of the 
 quiet old Close ; but, like the quaint, frag- 
 rant gardens about which they flitted in 
 their white dresses on a summer day, there 
 was a nameless charm about them, refresh- 
 ing to the senses in these days of bustle and 
 glare, when, as some one has aptly express- 
 ed it, to those who are only spectators of 
 the whirl, it is almost alarming to be alive. . 
 
 The Deanery terrace walk, which these 
 '' graces " so well adorned, and which was 
 rich with jessamines, magnolias, lemon- 
 scented verbenas, late roses, and helio- 
 tropes — all sweet-scented flowers had pre- 
 eminence there — was a favourite lounge 
 after dinner of the inmates of the Deanery ; 
 and an old lady, whose drawing-room win- 
 dows looked over a portion of this Eden, 
 was in the habit of observing, 
 
 " It's a perfect hot-bed for flirtations, my 
 dear — ^but there, it's no business of mine,.
 
 134 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 
 
 and don't say that / said so, whatever you 
 do." 
 
 Taking the prison in that city as a centre, 
 and moving the compass of fiction, not too 
 widely extended, for the Deanery was not a 
 quarter of a mile from it, you might have 
 embraced the opposites of life. 
 
 At that luxurious table, glittering with 
 plate, warm with light, rosy with wine and 
 fruit, fragrant with flowers, sparkling with 
 the wit engendered by so subtle a combina- 
 tion of pleasures to the sense, sat the man, 
 the judge, on the breath of whose lip (as 
 she herself would have believed) hung the 
 life of the woman whose heart was panting 
 with the weight of a burden almost too 
 heavy to be borne — the burden of suspense 
 and doubt. 
 
 Can we not imagine this being, with all 
 that the wreck of womanhood and of hu- 
 manity had left in her breast, endeavouring 
 to picture to herself the outward aspect of 
 her judge. She sees perhaps in her mind's 
 eye a pale, stern man, awful in the majesty 
 of a righteous law ; she shrinks even in ima-
 
 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 135 
 
 gination before that keen, searching eye; she 
 pales under the shadow of that high brow, 
 on which judgment and thought sit enthron- 
 ed ; she sinks fainting and conscience-stricken 
 before the judgment-seat — pity must be 
 vanished by the strong integrity which beams 
 from the countenance of the judge. 
 
 Law is to her but as a name. Woman- 
 like, she sifts the personality from the com- 
 plicated system of a force, and as the ignor- 
 ant and unlearned imagine that in the thun- 
 der they hear the actual voice of God, and 
 the lightning shaft is launched from His 
 hand, so do most of us reduce to a palpable 
 personality the great systems of govern- 
 ment, religion, and law. The Queen is the 
 State — a Bishop is the Church — a Judge 
 is the Law — a General is the Army — and 
 so on to the end of the chapter. 
 
 The actual judge, whose aspect I have 
 just supposed as drawn by a fevered imag- 
 ination, was scarcely the personification of 
 Justice in her most imposing form. He 
 was a little old man, with a pouchy 
 yellow skin, which sat like an ill-fitting
 
 186 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 
 
 glove upon his lantern jaws, and made 
 crow's foot purses under his eyes. He had 
 a senile pride in the vigour of his wiry al- 
 though shrunken frame, and was fond of 
 challenging men greatly his juniors to "run 
 a mile! walk a mile! or hop a mile with 
 you, sir !" An invitation always accompan- 
 ied with a smile, and a caress bestowed upon 
 the object of his greatest affection, his " beau- 
 tiful leg." 
 
 Do not men err a little when they ascribe 
 all personal vanities, all small weaknesses, 
 to the other sex ? They are quite ready to 
 vaunt as interesting, and " plucky," and 
 commendable, in a grey beard, what they 
 would denounce as doting and imbecile and 
 contemptible in a woman of the same 
 age. 
 
 We weep over the paralysed athlete, 
 who dribbles over his fish-flies, or the relics 
 of the sports of his prime ; but we de- 
 ride the woman past fifty who mounts on 
 horseback, or the still active grandmother 
 who capers in the dance with her grand- 
 children at the Christmas revel. How can
 
 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 137 
 
 society account for tlie fact, that it is touched 
 almost to tears by the sight of a hopping 
 sexagenarian, and moved to ironical laughter 
 by that of a dancing grandmother. 
 
 A touch of the boyish nature in the old 
 man is hailed as a virtue ; but a woman to 
 grow old gracefully must forget that she 
 ever was young. Is not that one of the 
 maxims of society, which, like those of the 
 Medes and Persians, altereth not ? 
 
 As the little old judge sat mumbling at the 
 Deanery dinner-table (his teeth were not so 
 good as his legs, by-the-by), Miss Marchraont, 
 whose ideas of a judge in the abstract had 
 been formed after some such a model as I 
 have attempted to draw, said to her neighbour, 
 a man of middle-age, with an extremely 
 clever countenance, and of fluent if not 
 high-bred address, 
 
 " What a funny old man Mr. Baron Ken- 
 nifeg is ?" 
 
 "He is a wonderful man, the ' Patriarch 
 of the Bench,' we call him — don't you admire 
 him. Miss Marchmont ?" 
 
 " Not his outward appearance, certainly.
 
 138 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 
 
 I think a judge ought to be grand and im- 
 posing-looking — a good wig-block at least," 
 she added with a laugh. 
 
 A very little wit in a very pretty girl goes 
 a long way. Her joke was greatly appreci- 
 ated by the gentleman to whom the fore- 
 going remarks had been addressed (whose 
 name she had not caught as he was intro- 
 duced to her by the Dean.) 
 
 "You are satirical, Miss Marchmont," he 
 observed, as his eyes flashed with merriment, 
 and perhaps with the flattering conviction 
 that his own wig was exceedingly becoming 
 to him, or, to put it in the light which Miss 
 Marchmont 's remark suggested, that "he 
 rather became the wig !*' 
 
 He was a great man — a much greater man 
 than the little old judge, in the estimation 
 of the Bar. A rising man — the leading 
 counsel for the defence in the great trial of 
 to-morrow, to whose pleading it was an in- 
 tellectual treat to listen ; but with all these 
 facts Bessie was unacquainted, and conse- 
 quently quite at her ease. 
 
 " Will the great trial last more than one
 
 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 139 
 
 day, do you imagine ?" she asked by-and-by, 
 referring to a remark of Mr. Justice Braye's, 
 who looked tired and bored, and who, when 
 he did open his mouth, talked "shop," as 
 Mr. Baron Kennifeg afterwards remarked, 
 stroking his favourite leg, and with a shrug 
 of his shoulders expressive of his supreme 
 contempt for the impersonal element in the 
 force of the law, which he had happily 
 caught and embodied in the short word 
 quoted above — " shop." 
 
 " I should tliink it probable that it will 
 last several days. Are you interested in it ? 
 Shall you be in Court ?" 
 
 " Oh ! dear no, not during that trial, at 
 least. But there is one — there will be one, 
 at least — in which I am deeply interested. 
 I only wish I could have employed some 
 good counsel in that poor child's defence." 
 
 " Who is the happy unfortunate ?" in- 
 quired Miss Marchmont's nameless friend, 
 with what he considered a brilliant stroke of 
 gallantry. 
 
 Mr. Serjeant Pymm had not been born 
 in the station of life to which his talents had
 
 140 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 
 
 subsequently raised him. He could never 
 talk to a woman who happened to be young 
 and pretty without infusing into his conver- 
 sation the rallying complimentary strain 
 which he believed to be quite irresistible. 
 
 If Bessie had not been very much en- 
 grossed in the subject she had broached, she 
 would certainly have checked this propensity 
 in the bud ; but as it was, she found herself 
 eagerly describing to him the whole circum- 
 stances of "Joey's" case. When at last 
 she ceased speaking, with heightened colour 
 and moistened eyes, she caught the eye, or 
 rather the glass, of Mr. Baron Kennifeg 
 raised in admiration of the " beautiful special 
 pleader," as he called our heroine ; for, like 
 Mr. Serjeant Pymm, the little old judge was 
 an ardent admirer of beauty in a woman. 
 
 "Is ray learned friend taking a lesson in 
 the art of eloquence?" he asked with an 
 old-school bow, which stamped him as a 
 gentleman as well as judge. 
 
 " It's a case of a client, my lord. I have 
 been receiving my last brief." 
 
 The last clause was added in low tones
 
 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 141 
 
 to his beautiful neighbour. " Surely," he 
 thought, " she can take a hint as well as she 
 can give one," for he had no idea that Miss 
 Marchmont was unaware to whom she had 
 addressed her remarks; and her narrative 
 possessed a meaning, when seen in that light, 
 which the reader will doubtless perceive. 
 He might have thought it presuming in 
 another, but in so beautiful a girl, and an 
 heiress, Mr. Pymm thought the brief in such 
 a case might be advantageously retained. 
 He intended (should circumstances make 
 such a proceeding expedient) to undertake 
 the defence of Joey himself. 
 
 When the ladies, having left the dinner- 
 table, grouped themselves about the draw- 
 ing-room, the three girls crowded round 
 Bessie, full of " the conquest " which they 
 joked her upon having made of the cele- 
 brated counsel; and Annie, the youngest, 
 quaintly observed, 
 
 " If ever you commit a crime, Bessie, I 
 know who will defend you without a retain- 
 ing fee." 
 
 " You need not be saucy, Annie ; you
 
 142 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 
 
 were too much engaged with the chaplain to 
 see much of me. But I had not the slight- 
 est idea who I was talking to, and I feel 
 very much as if I must have made a fool of 
 myself in consequence." 
 
 She was thinking of her witticism about 
 the good wig-block, and feared it was ill- 
 timed. 
 
 " Let us go out on the terrace," her com- 
 panions suggested. " You can tell us the 
 story in which Mr. Pymm seemed to take so 
 lively an interest. Come." 
 
 '^ The gentlemen will be joining you soon, 
 I daresay, my dears," said the censorious old 
 lady who had made the remark about the 
 Deanery garden terraces quoted above ; but 
 no one would have detected in her suave ac- 
 cents, as she addressed her remark to the 
 bevy of laughing girls, the latent satire that 
 lurked beneath. She was a dangerous per- 
 son to get hold of a story detrimental to 
 your credit or your character. She could 
 toss you up as pretty a pancake of scandal, 
 with as little material in the way of truth to 
 work upon, as you could wish to see.
 
 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 143 
 
 No sooner had Bessie and her young 
 friends stepped out upon the terrace, and out 
 of ear-shot of her busy tongue, than she drew 
 near to good, kindty-natured Mrs. Mowbray, 
 the Dean's wife, who entertained no malice 
 or ill-will to any living soul, and said in her 
 soft, purring accents, so suggestive of the 
 talons kept well out of sight, 
 
 " Miss Marchmont is the image of her 
 mother — don't you see the likeness, dear 
 Mrs. Mowbray ? She seems also to inherit 
 her great thirst for admiration — that was an 
 unhappy marriage, if ever there was one." 
 
 '^ People said so at one time," Mrs. Mow- 
 bray replied carelessly, for she was turning 
 in her mind what her pet daughter Annie 
 and the young chaplain would have to live 
 upon, if they should make a match of it ; 
 '' but you cannot deny but that Mr. March- 
 mont has proved a most exemplary father. 
 Every one believed at first he would have 
 given the little motherless girl a step-mo- 
 ther, and^ now it is, let me see, seventeen 
 years since poor Mrs. Marchmont died." 
 
 "There are reasons, you may depend,
 
 144 TKIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 
 
 other than those of constancy to the memory 
 of his wife. You know, I daresay, that there 
 are very curious dispositions with regard to 
 that property. My poor brother was their 
 man of business for many years. You know 
 that there was another brother — a brother 
 who disappeared mysteriously, and who was 
 supposed to have been lost at sea." 
 
 " Of course ; it was a fact much talked of 
 at the time it occurred ; but what can that 
 have to do with Bessie's prospects, or her 
 father's not marrying again ? I think you 
 are mistaken as to the cause." 
 
 " Possibly, my dear Mrs. Mowbray — it is 
 possible, certainly ; but I am seldom mis- 
 taken as to my facts. It would be unfortu- 
 nate for that poor girl, whose head is turned 
 with conceit and self-importance, if an heir 
 to Marchmont should turn up some of these 
 days." 
 
 *' It would be inconvenient, certainly ; but 
 why you should entertain so chimerical an 
 idea, I am at a loss to imagine ;" and as Mrs. 
 Mowbray spoke she left the side of a com- 
 panion who was not at all to her taste, and
 
 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 145 
 
 folding her lace shawl over her bosom as if 
 to shut out a cold wind, she carried her 
 sunny presence into the centre of another 
 group. 
 
 Mr. Pymm was the first to join the ladies, 
 and to break the charmed circle of floating 
 muslins and rustling silks, which form an 
 invincible barrier to a man of shy or nervous 
 temperament, but through which the learned 
 Serjeant made his way, with quick furtive 
 glances thrown upon each group, until he 
 had ascertained that the object of his search 
 was not there. Then changing his tactics, 
 he sauntered towards the open window, and 
 remarking to a bland-looking lady in the 
 qorner of a sofa that the " evening was 
 charming," an observation to which she gave 
 a smiling assent, he stepped out upon the 
 terrace, and surprised the Deanery girls and 
 Bessie Marchmont studying the stars. 
 
 " You are wise, young ladies — it is not a 
 night to remain within. May I enquire 
 which of the bright luminaries above us has 
 engaged your attention ? I am something of 
 an astronomer myself" 
 
 VOL. I. L
 
 146 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 
 
 " I don't think we know much about their 
 names," Fanny Mowbray replied bluntly to 
 this high-flown address — " and I, for my 
 part, had rather not — it spoils the enjoyment 
 of looking at them." 
 
 '' Well said," replied Mr. Pymm ; " you 
 live in an ideal world, peopled by the images 
 of your own creation ; we^ on the contrary, 
 must reduce everything to a name, before 
 we can believe in its existence at all," 
 
 If the acute perceptions of the lawyer had 
 caused him to take advantage of the young 
 lady's evident dislike to a treatise on popu- 
 lar science, in the form of conversation, they 
 had in this instance their due reward. 
 
 Fanny Mowbra}^, giving her sister's arm a 
 meaning pinch, said, 
 
 " I think mamma will be wanting us to 
 play our duetts ; shall we go in ?" 
 
 Miss Lucy at once assented, and the two 
 girls went in together, the youngest, Con- 
 stance, following them as a matter of course. 
 They intended to practise a trick upon Bes- 
 sie, who was standing a little apart, and who, 
 unconscious of their defalcation, still leaned
 
 TEIALS OF AN HEIKESS. 147 
 
 with her white arms on the grey stone bal- 
 ustrade, and looked up thoughtfully at the 
 stars. 
 
 " I wonder," she said, "if there is any 
 wretched living soul awaiting its trial for life 
 or death in one of those." 
 
 " It is a startling question, Miss March - 
 mont," said an earnest voice at her side, a 
 voice so different from that which had 
 made the remark about the " bright lumin- 
 aries," that Bessie turned in surprise, and 
 discovered the trick the girls had played 
 upon her. She and Mr. Pymm were alone 
 on the terrace walk — supposed to be study- 
 ing the stars. 
 
 Amused at a fact which she thought would 
 supply a fund of good-natured banter for her 
 young friends ; interested in the conversation 
 of a man who had made one side of human 
 nature his constant study, and oblivious of 
 the fact that her conduct might be open to 
 the misconstruction of " Mrs. Gibbet " (who 
 was the censorious person and the bland 
 lady on the sofa in one), Bessie lingered on 
 the terrace in earnest conversation, with a 
 
 l2
 
 148 TEIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 
 
 man whose conspicuous role in the few next 
 days' proceedings would have made him in- 
 teresting to her in any case; and she was also 
 anxious to explain to him that she was not 
 aware who he was when she had been so 
 eloquent in the cause of the unfortunate 
 Joey. 
 
 " You must have wondered at my auda- 
 city, Mr. Pymm," she said, pulling the 
 petals of a white rose as she spoke, "but 
 when I was talking about to-morrow to you, 
 I had not any idea how deeply you were 
 concerned in the matter." 
 
 " I trust that the knowledge will not seal 
 your lips now. Believe me, it is seldom 
 that I have the opportunity of hearing the 
 subjects in which I am interested so freshly, 
 so poetically discussed. I am accustomed 
 to deal with the stern facts and technicali- 
 ties of my profession — it remained for you to 
 teach me its poetry." 
 
 "You flatter me, Mr. Pymm. There 
 was to me no poetry in the law which con- 
 signed that poor child to a gaol. I can 
 never believe in his guilt."
 
 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 149 
 
 " In our language, Miss Marchmont, evi- 
 dence is truth." 
 
 " It must be at best but a speculative 
 theory." 
 
 " So, theologists would tell us, are all hu- 
 man theories ; and on such a basis must 
 stand the foundation of human law. Impulse 
 or — as, you' would call it, conviction — would 
 be a dangerous guide." 
 
 ** I suppose it would ; but I suppose it 
 has happened to everyone. I suppose it oc- 
 casionally happens to you^ in your profes- 
 sional career, to believe against evidence. I 
 am sure it has," she added eagerly, as the 
 man so great in cross-examination paused 
 before he replied. 
 
 The conversation had taken a turn which 
 he did not expect. He had never before 
 met with a young woman, and a pretty one, 
 who preferred philosophy to the strain of 
 light badinage in which he believed himself 
 to be so great. Flattered, however, by her 
 appeal, he answered in his serious vein, 
 
 " Our profession, I fear, exercises a har- 
 dening influence; it is not in the better
 
 150 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 
 
 phases of liuman nature that we are often 
 called upon to believe against evidence, Miss 
 Marchmont." 
 
 "Do you not believe that there is a better 
 side to poor, much-abused human nature, 
 then, Mr. Pymm ?" 
 
 " It is goodness only that can believe in 
 goodness in the abstract, and breathe," was 
 the reply. 
 
 " Well, I will put a case : supposing that 
 you had been told this evening that I had 
 committed the crime laid to the charge of 
 the wretched woman who is to be tried to- 
 morrow, — supposing the evidence appeared 
 to be conclusive against me, and I simply 
 looked you in the face and said ' I am not 
 guilty,' would you believe me ?" 
 
 ^' You put an impossible case." 
 
 "That is exactly how I wished you to 
 answer — if you believe in the impossible you 
 are not altogether without faith." 
 
 "That is what we should call an ingenious 
 quibble in the law." 
 
 " Very likely, but at the same time you 
 will own that there is truth in it. It ap-
 
 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 151 
 
 pears impossible to you that I should have 
 committed such a crime, although you know 
 so little of me, because you have a certain 
 belief in the better side of human nature 
 after all. You do not believe me capable of 
 such a crime." 
 
 " I am infidel enough to not admit of such 
 an hypothesis, certainly." 
 
 "But why?" 
 
 " It was with regard to external evidence 
 that I pronounced it an impossible ca-se. 
 Had you been suspected or accused of such 
 a crime, you would not have been here, 
 pulling a white rose to pieces on the terrace* 
 of the Deanery garden. You would not 
 have been able (even if innocent) to cast off 
 so entirely the consciousness that all the 
 world believed in your guilt. Therefore 
 the moral evidence of conviction would not 
 have been presented to me for acceptance 
 in the same way. Innocence itself under 
 the probe of suspicion is apt to assume the 
 appearance and the mask of guilt itself. It 
 is under these circumstances that I pro- 
 nounced it an impossibility that you should
 
 152 TEIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 
 
 stand in such a position, or that I should be 
 your moral judge." 
 
 *' Are you not afraid of the night-air, Miss 
 Marchmont ?" asked a soft purring voice 
 from the open window, at this stage in the 
 conversation; the voice proceeding from 
 Mrs. Gibbet, and the observation being 
 heralded by an artificial cough, as though 
 the speaker thought it necessary to make 
 her presence known to the pair standing 
 there. A piece of ill-breeding which was 
 entirely thrown away upon at least one of 
 the parties concerned, who had never as yet 
 breathed the atmosphere of vulgarity, and 
 who would not have understood the imputa- 
 tion intended to be conveyed. 
 
 "Your papa is enquiring for you, my 
 love," put in Mrs. Mowbray, coming to the 
 rescue, for she w^as very fond of the mother- 
 less girl, and did not mean to leave her to 
 the tender mercies of the gentle Gibbet ; 
 "he is afraid of the damp, and wishes you 
 to come in." 
 
 " Oh ! I am not cold," Bessie replied, 
 carelessly, "and the night is so lovely;
 
 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 153 
 
 but I will come in if papa wishes it." 
 
 " / would not have disturbed you, but by 
 Mr. Marchraont's particular request," Mrs. 
 Gibbet observed, firing her parting shot, as 
 Miss Marchmont would have passed her 
 without further notice ; but the shaft fell 
 harmlessly at the feet of her intended victim. 
 Bessie answered her with a ready smile, a 
 smile which Mr. Pymm thought the most be- 
 witching one he had ever seen. 
 
 *^ You did not disturb me in the least, Mrs. 
 Gibbet." 
 
 "An artful young creature," whispered 
 that lady to her neighbour — not kind Mrs.' 
 Mowbray in this instance — " she knows what 
 she is about. She has been flirting out there 
 on the terrace fur the last half hour — and if 
 she hasn't given him the rose !" 
 
 Mr. Pymm indeed had the remains of the 
 white rose, which Bessie's taper fingers had 
 more than half destroyed, in his button-hole. 
 She had dropped it as she stepped into the 
 house. 
 
 " Where have you been, my dear? Really 
 it is most imprudent — very foolish, I must
 
 154 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 
 
 say," said Mr. Marchmont, as Bessie went up 
 to him with a propitiatory " Did you want 
 me, papa?" 
 
 He really was nervously anxious about 
 Bessie's health, which was not very strong, 
 and entertained old-world prejudices with 
 regard to the night-air; so that he had 
 worked himself into a fume of fidgety fret- 
 fulness at her temporary absence from the 
 drawing-room. 
 
 " I have been on the terrace, papa, talk- 
 ing to Mr. Pymm," was the candid, unblush- 
 ing reply. " I came in directly you sent for 
 me." 
 
 " Well, my dear, don't let it happen again, 
 that's all, or we shall have you laid up. I 
 have been looking for you to tell you that 
 Mrs. Duberry will take care of you, if you 
 like to come into the Courts to-morrow. I 
 told her that I believed you would." 
 
 " Papa !" 
 
 Bessie had indeed turned pale, as this, to 
 her astounding fact, had been communicated 
 to her. That the widow should be proposed 
 to her as a chaperone, and on such an occasion
 
 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 155 
 
 — to witness the trial of a murderess ? The 
 Squire must have taken leave of his senses. 
 
 " Well, do not look so scared, my dear. 
 You have often wished to go into the 
 Courts, and this trial will be a regular 
 cause celehre — but do as you like about it — 
 do as you like." 
 
 The Squire was rather shy about the 
 whole affair. In a rash moment he had 
 agreed for Mrs. Duberry to take his daugh- 
 ter into the Courts, for half an hour or so, 
 " under the shadow of her wing," — so the 
 lady had expressed it ; and he had not 
 thought much more of the matter, until he 
 had met the widow in the street that day, 
 looking, it must be admitted, undeniably 
 handsome, when she reminded him of his 
 promise. 
 
 Not knowing how Bessie would take it, 
 he found it convenient to make the commu- 
 nication to her in public. He had not much 
 moral courage ; and as his intimacy with 
 the widow increased, so did his reticence on 
 the subject ; and to-night he was evidently 
 absent and distrait.
 
 156 TEIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 
 
 *^ Do you really wish me to go ?" Bessie 
 whispered, as she kissed her father, and 
 wished him good night. 
 
 "Certainly, if it is not disagreeable to 
 you. But I repeat, do as you like." 
 
 Bessie was bewildered — she had, as we 
 have seen, repudiated the idea with scorn 
 when asked by Mr. Pymm whether she would 
 be in Court the next day. 
 
 "And now I think, as papa thinks I 
 might, that I should rather like to go for 
 half an hour, even with Mrs. Duberry," was 
 her last thought before her eyes closed in 
 the sweet dreamless sleep, of what the poets 
 have aptly called " sweet seventeen."
 
 TRIALS OF AN HEIKESS. 157 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 " The unknown has kept his faith." 
 
 Peveril of the Peak. 
 
 " TTTHAT a lovely bonnet ! — and how 
 VY charming we are looking this 
 morning ! " 
 
 This was the widow's greeting to Miss 
 Marchmont as she entered the Deanery 
 drawing-room the following morning, and 
 found that young lady alone, and ready to 
 accompany her to the Courts. Her last 
 night's thoughts had subdued her aversion 
 to the plan proposed by her father. After 
 all, the wretched woman would be none the 
 better or none the worse for her presence ; 
 and with a mind like hers, deeply interested 
 in the problems of humanity, the situation 
 was not altogether without a ghastly sort of 
 fascination, which she hardly liked to admit
 
 158 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 
 
 even to herself. Her conversation with Mr. 
 Pymm the evening before had not been 
 without its impression. Bessie was a re- 
 markably thoughtful girl, and she had never 
 before enjoyed a tete-k-tete with any clever 
 man who cared, as she expressed it, to 
 " talk her talk " with her. If she had been 
 much thrown into intellectual society, in- 
 stead of being born heiress of Marchmont, 
 with a father who looked upon any admix- 
 ture of the "blue" in a woman's character 
 as an abomination and a snare, she might 
 have turned out an authoress herself; but 
 she was spared the bitter-sweets of such a 
 career. 
 
 Genius in any shape is a bane to a wo- 
 man, as its opposite talent is a rod that buds 
 and blossoms, and bears much fruit. An 
 accomplished woman reigns and rules in the 
 society of which she is the ornament, but a 
 woman of genius, if she enter the lists at all, 
 goes down unarmed to the battle, and the 
 very shield which she turns against the as- 
 saults of her assailants bruises her own heart 
 with its weight.
 
 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 159 
 
 The Squire had never treated his daugh- 
 ter but as the child which, in fact, she was ; 
 and even Uncle Rex was apt to pooh-pooh 
 her in her Platonic dialogue moods, as he 
 ironically styled her attempts at philosophi- 
 cal research. Therefore, to find one the in- 
 tellectual level of whose mind was far above 
 her own, willing to exchange gold for her 
 silver in a conversational form, was to her a 
 surprising as well as a pleasing fact. 
 
 The court was already crowded, as Mrs. 
 Duberry and Miss Marchmont were ushered 
 to their seats, and the latter felt the blood 
 rush into her cheeks, as every eye was di- 
 rected towards them. They formed a 
 striking contrast as to appearance, and at 
 that moment the elder woman could bear 
 the comparison, for she was exquisitely 
 dressed, and all that art could do was well 
 done to add lustre to the charms that could 
 hardly be said to be on the wane. A dress 
 of a soft creamy hue, and of the richest tex- 
 ture, embroidered with knots of flowers, the 
 design of which would not have disgraced a 
 Dresden vase, a shawl of costly black lace,
 
 160 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 
 
 worn with the grace of a Frenchwoman, 
 and a bonnet of some gossamer fabric, clos- 
 ing in severe simplicity round the faultless 
 features, and leaving to view the massive 
 coils of black hair at the back of the head, 
 formed Mrs. Duberry's toilette ; and it must 
 be allowed to have been a most becoming one. 
 Bessie herself looked like a moss rose in 
 the bud by the side of a full-blown devo- 
 mensis in its mellow splendour. I will not 
 describe her dress, because attention centred 
 in her case upon the lovely youthful face, 
 which no artificial aid could have added to 
 or taken from. It was simple in the ex- 
 treme, for she would have thought it bad 
 taste to have made an elaborate toilette on 
 such an occasion, and the exclamation with 
 regard to " the lovely bonnet," quoted at 
 the beginning of this chapter, was, as Bessie 
 shrewdly suspected, intended to draw atten- 
 tion to the speaker's own — a new importa- 
 tion from Paris, worn that day for the first 
 time, if not exactly for the wearer to '' see 
 the hanging in '^ — at least, in which to wit- 
 ness the first step to the scaffold on the part
 
 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 161 
 
 of one who was a woman like herself, on 
 whose shame and agony no woman's eye 
 should have rested out of vain curiosity, or 
 for the passing of an idle hour. 
 
 The sensation which the appearance of 
 the pair made in the court was but the 
 heading of the sensational chapter which 
 that day's proceedings opened for the con- 
 templation of the shire world. The 
 
 dock, empty then, was soon to be tenanted 
 by one whose very name had become a by- 
 word ; and as " the prisoner " was brought 
 in, a throb of expectation passed like an 
 electric shock through every heart present, 
 more than one amongst them feeling a sick- 
 ness creep over it like the sickness of death. 
 But she was stonily calm, and apparently in- 
 different to all that was passing round her. 
 She was by no means a remarkable-looking 
 woman ; the only singular feature was her 
 eye, which was like that of an animal, un- 
 fathomable from its very absence of intel- 
 lect, expressive of something — some motive 
 force, and that force not emanating from an 
 intelligent soul. 
 
 VOL. I. M
 
 162 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 
 
 I am not going to describe the whole 
 trial ; a summary of the case will suffice. 
 The tale, indeed, as a tale, was a soul-stirring 
 one ; for it was the tale of a daughter who 
 had dyed her hands in her aged father's 
 blood, amid circumstances which had created 
 such a feeling of horror in the public mind, 
 that if a life could have been talked away, 
 that guilty soul would have been hurried 
 long before red-handed into the presence of 
 its Judge. 
 
 The facts of the case were as follows. An 
 old man lived by himself on a lonely hill-top 
 farm, receiving occasional visits from the 
 different members of his family, who were 
 all, with one exception, married and settled 
 in life. This exception was his only daugh- 
 ter Anne, who was in service as cook at a 
 parsonage house about three miles from the 
 farm where her old father lived alone. He 
 had the reputation of being a miser in the 
 neighbourhood, as it was supposed that he 
 must have "hundreds and hundreds of 
 pounds," the savings of a penurous life. One 
 Sunday morning his daughter Anne asked.
 
 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 163 
 
 permission of her mistress to go over to tea 
 at the " Higher Farm," as the ruinous dwell- 
 ing, the old man's own property, was called, 
 alleging as her reason for making the re- 
 quest that " her father had been weak and 
 ailing like for some time, and that he wished 
 to see some of his children with regard to 
 the disposition of his property." 
 
 " You wish to see after your own interests, 
 Anne, I suppose that means," her mistress 
 had replied, jokingly, for the cook had ob- 
 tained a character in the family of a self- 
 seeking woman, not easily moved to any of 
 the kindly emotions ; and her mistress had 
 observed with inward indignation that she 
 could speak with dry eyes and unfaltering 
 speech of the old man's approaching end. 
 
 " I should like to be left comfortable off," 
 was the laconic reply ; and as the bells were 
 ringing for afternoon church, Anne the cook, 
 in her best brown silk gown and handsome 
 shawl, was seen hurrying off in the direction 
 of the Higher Farm. 
 
 She did not come back till late, at eleven 
 o'clock, and upon her fellow-servants re- 
 
 m2
 
 164 TRIALS OF AN HEIEESS. 
 
 marking that she looked pale, she accounted 
 for it by a fright she had sustained by meet- 
 ing with two ill-looking fellows, who ap- 
 peared to be watching her away. 
 
 "Fathers got a sight of money in the 
 house still, though he did not send me away 
 empty-handed. Lord grant they mayn't rob 
 the farm and murder the old man ; but it 
 gave me quite a turn." 
 
 "What is that on your hands, Anne?" 
 exclaimed her fellow-servant, the housemaid, 
 as she advanced with a light in her direc- 
 tion. "Why, you've been down and hurt 
 yourself sure." 
 
 " I got my hands scratched picking goose- 
 berries for father ; it was a pity to see they 
 wasting on the trees," was the reply. " And," 
 she added, after a pause, " they did bleed, 
 good Lord !" 
 
 The following day it was observed that 
 she was unusually silent, and the maid- 
 serv^ant who shared her room had discovered 
 her upon her knees at a box, and had heard 
 a sound as if she was counting money, and 
 dropping coins one by one into a bag.
 
 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 165 
 
 "What do you want here?" she had 
 asked sharply, as the girl, who was young 
 and good-lookhig, and evidently aware of 
 Jbhe fact, began, according to her own tell- 
 ing, " to twist up her back hair at the glass." 
 
 This fact was of course improved by the 
 counsel for the defence, who cross-examined 
 her as to length of time it took to complete 
 the arrangement, and as to the number of 
 times which she looked away from the glass 
 and at her fellow-servant during the opera- 
 tion ; all in a tone of banter, which had the 
 intended effect of confusing the poor girl, 
 and of causing her hopelessly to contradict 
 herself in every succeeding statement. 
 
 As the servants at the Parsonage were at 
 tea in the kitchen on the same evening, 
 there came a breathless messenger from the 
 Higher Farm, with news that the old 
 man had been found murdered in his bed, 
 his skull beaten in, and an awful spectacle 
 for any Christian to see. 
 
 " He be a terrible corpse, that he be," the 
 boy had concluded with; and it was observed 
 that Anne, the cook, who had started to her
 
 166 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 
 
 feet as the lad came in, and who had been 
 staring at him with vacant eyes during his 
 recital, snatched suddenly at the table to 
 support herself, and the next moment fell 
 heavily backwards in a swoon. 
 
 The next visitors at the Parsonage were 
 two policemen, who proceeded to search the 
 box of the woman to whose connection with 
 the crime, if not positive guilt, other circum- 
 stances, which it is not necessary here to de- 
 tail, had led them to suspect. In it they 
 found contained in a leather purse a hun- 
 dred pounds in notes, and in a bag made of 
 coarse bunting, and tied round the neck 
 with a strip of dirty list, was another hun- 
 dred in gold coins. 
 
 Clasped convulsively in the hand of the 
 corpse a torn scrap of paper had been found 
 as the rigid fingers had been forced apart. 
 On that scrap was written, in the hand- 
 writing of the old man, which was a very 
 peculiar one, the words, "Dear son Thomas, 
 
 when I am gone ," and crumpled in the 
 
 same bag, and soiled with blood, was dis-
 
 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 167 
 
 covered the other half, which corresponded 
 in every particular, and upon which the 
 words, " This bag contains one hundred 
 pounds, which I bequeath to my — " could 
 with a little pains be made out. 
 
 It was a clumsy murder, after all. The 
 woman had doubtless been on the point of 
 hiding her ill-gotten gains in some securer 
 place, when the youthful vanity of her fel- 
 low servant, who had stolen a few moments 
 from her work for the arrangement of her 
 " back hair," had frustrated her designs for 
 the time. Other evidence pointed with un- 
 mistakeable evidence to her guilt. THe 
 brown silk dress, hitherto preserved in rose 
 leaves and lavender, was crumpled and 
 stained with blood. The hands of the sus- 
 pected woman were scratched and torn, as 
 though a struggle had taken place, perhaps 
 for the possession of the bag, and during 
 which the paper had probably been torn in 
 two, the old man's hand closing in his agony 
 on the half he retained in his grasp. 
 
 As these terrible truths came to light in
 
 168 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 
 
 the evidence of the two first witnesses, 
 Bessie shuddered, and grew as pale as 
 death. How could her father have exposed 
 her to such suffering ? 
 
 " It was cruel of papa," she thought ; and 
 at that moment, as she raised her eyes with 
 a sick feeling of horror, and looked about 
 for some means of escape, she met those of 
 •Colonel le Garde, fixed gravely and, as she 
 thought, reproachfully upon her. " Take 
 me out," her lips had formed themselves to 
 say, as, in obedience to a hasty sign, he had 
 with difficulty made his way to her side ; 
 and then her head began to swim, and the 
 feeling of deathly faintness came over her, 
 for which the only remedy is pure air. She 
 remembered little more until she found 
 herself alone with the Colonel, on their way 
 to the Deanery in a fly. 
 
 " What could have taken you there, 
 Birdie ?" he asked, very sternly, as the poor 
 child thought, for Uncle Rex. " I never 
 was more surprised in my life than to see 
 you present at such a spectacle. I could 
 scarcely believe my eyes or my senses."
 
 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 169 
 
 : " Papa wished me to go with Mrs. Du- 
 berry,", was the simple reply, and the Colo- 
 nel's heart was melted, at once, for he de- 
 tected in the faltering accents the presence 
 of what the French aptly call " les larmes 
 aux voixy 
 
 "lam surprised at your father, I must 
 own — for Mrs. Duberry, well and good, she 
 is old enough to consult her own feelings 
 and taste in the matter ; but I would not 
 have had you taken there. Birdie, for a sack 
 of rupees." 
 
 " Papa is infatuated about Mrs. Duberry, 
 I think. I never knew him take to any oiie 
 as he does to her." 
 
 " What ! — what do you mean, child ? — 
 take to that woman ? Confound her ! 
 Things are not quite so bad as that, I 
 trust !" 
 
 " They are, I can tell you ; and what will 
 surprise you more than that. Uncle Eex, 
 papa is altered in his manner to me. I 
 really dare not displease him. He is already 
 offended with me, and why, I cannot 
 imagine."
 
 170 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 
 
 *^ Offended, darling ! — impossible ! — you 
 must be under some strange mistake." 
 
 *^ I don t tbink so. But here we are at 
 the Deanery. Oh ! what a relief to get out 
 of that choking court. Well might Mr. 
 Pymm talk of an ^ atmosphere tainted with 
 crime.' " It was terrible, and at the recol- 
 lection of it Bessie grew grave, and an in- 
 voluntary shudder passed over her frame. 
 
 " Don't think of it any more ; and tell 
 me, when had Mr. Pymm the opportunity 
 of imparting his theories concerning the at- 
 mosphere of crime to you ?" 
 
 " Last night — they dined here, the judges 
 and all ; and do you know, Uncle Rex, be- 
 fore I knew who he was, I had told him all 
 about Joey. Fancy if it should turn out 
 that he could do anything for him ! There 
 would be some good in making a conquest 
 of a leading counsel then, would there not ?" 
 
 It was evident that the words, light as 
 eider down in substance as they were — for 
 Bessie, who had not a spark of that sort of 
 vanity in her composition, was only joking 
 about her supposed conquest — had had some
 
 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 171 
 
 jarring eiFect upon the Colonel's nerves, for 
 the shades in his worn face deepened, and 
 the lines in it, always clearly defined, seemed 
 now as if they had been made with a graver's 
 knife. 
 
 " You take a great interest in Joey, 
 Birdie," he said at length. 
 
 " Of course I do. Uncle Rex, and always 
 did, as you know, since the time when I 
 first saw him dragged along by the collar 
 of his coat, by that horrid policeman, into 
 the justice-room. I hope with all my heart 
 that he will get oiF." 
 
 " Can I get a glass of sherry anywhete 
 here, my dear?" asked the Colonel, sud- 
 denly. 
 
 They had been standing during this con- 
 versation in the hall at the Deanery, where 
 two or three idle footmen were lounging 
 about waiting for " the old party," as they 
 irreverently called Colonel le Garde (who 
 had declined being shown into the drawing- 
 room) to go. 
 
 " Of course you can. But you are not
 
 172 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 
 
 well. Goodness ! Uncle Rex, how pale you 
 are !" 
 
 " A twinge of the tic, that's all. I always 
 suffer from it in hot crowded places. Don t 
 look so terrified, Birdie. I shall be all right 
 soon." 
 
 '' You don't look anything like ' all 
 right ' yet, I can tell you. How horrid that 
 tic must be !" 
 
 " It is indeed, my dear. You have no 
 conception what I suffer at times." 
 
 " Poor dear ; and I have laughed at you. 
 I had no idea that it was anything like this." 
 
 " Of course you hadn't — how should you? 
 Besides, it is a worse twinge than usual. 
 Where is that fellow gone for the sherry ?" 
 
 •' Here it is," Bessie said, taking the glass 
 from the salver with which the man had 
 returned, and placing it in the Colonel's hand, 
 which trembled, as she observed, like an 
 aspen leaf. 
 
 " You are not fit to go yet," she said, 
 laying her hand tenderly on his arm when 
 he had drunk the wine, " I am sure you 
 are suffering. Come with me into the draw-
 
 TRIALS OF A^ HEIRESS. 173 
 
 ing-room ; there will be no one there — 
 they never sit there in the morning." 
 . '' I think perhaps it would be as well. I 
 should like to rest for a little in the quiet 
 and shade." 
 
 " I can suit you, then, to a turn. The 
 ^ Nookery,' as the girls call it, will be better 
 than the drawing-room. That is a place 
 made for quiet and shade, and flirtations," 
 she added, with a merry laugh, as she led. 
 him into the garden, and to that delicious 
 spot which had received the name of the 
 Nookery from the girls, w^ho had evidently 
 been its latest occupants. 
 
 Books and work were left littered about, 
 and a wax doll, which was the pride of a 
 little one's heart, lay on its face on the 
 ground, having probably been discarded in 
 a pet. 
 
 " Here is a sweet place for a flirtation, 
 now I have got you all to myself I have 
 not had a good talk with you for I don't 
 know when." 
 
 " Whose fault has that been. Birdie ?" the 
 Colonel answered gravely. " An infirm old
 
 174 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 
 
 man cannot hope to monopolise the atten- 
 tion of a grown-up young lady who makes 
 * conquests ' of learned lawyers, and who 
 has learnt the jargon of an emancipated 
 school-girl. Something has pained me, 
 child, more than the twinge of tic I had 
 just now." 
 
 " What is it, Uncle Rex ? — nothing that 
 I said in fun about making a conquest of 
 Mr. Pymm. I had a long talk with him 
 on subjects which interested me — there was 
 no harm in it, was there ?" 
 
 Bessie asked the question seriously, with 
 a sudden access of seriousness, like that we 
 might have noticed in a child. 
 
 " No harm at all ; but when you talked 
 of ' making a conquest,' I didn't quite like 
 the expression. It was not like the Birdie 
 of old times, who has only just begun to 
 feel her wings. She will fly away soon, I 
 suppose." 
 
 " Oh ! of course, on a broomstick ; but 
 seriously. Uncle Rex, I don't like you to 
 think me a flirt." 
 
 "God forbid that I should ever have
 
 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 175 
 
 cause to think you one, child ! Listen to 
 me, Birdie ; a beautiful woman, for pastime, 
 no doubt, once made it her occupation to 
 make a conquest of me — she did something 
 more, darling, for she made shipiureck of my 
 life." 
 
 Bessie's cheek paled, as well it might, at 
 the sorrowful life-knell of these last words. 
 
 " Uncle Rex," she said, with the tears in 
 her beautiful eyes, '^ you do not think that 
 I could ever be so wicked as that ?" 
 
 " Hush, child ; the woman you condemn 
 did but follow the instincts of her own na- 
 ture in playing off one lover against an- 
 other. Do not call her wicked. Birdie ; 
 your own mother might have done the same 
 thing." 
 
 " Did you know my mother. Uncle Rex ?" 
 
 The question was asked eagerly. No one 
 had ever spoken much to Bessie of her mo- 
 ther — of the beautiful mother who had 
 passed up the silent stair and been seen no 
 more, almost with her own first breath. 
 
 " I once loved your mother, child. I
 
 176 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 
 
 was one of the beautiful Miss Clavering's 
 many slaves." 
 
 " Oh ! Uncle Rex, I see it all— it is for 
 her sake that you love me. You loved my 
 mother, and you loved her to the end. Bless 
 you for those words ! I shall like to think 
 that I owe my best friend to the mother 
 whom I never saw. Constant to one me- 
 mory all those years — what a heart !" 
 
 " Constant !— ah ! Birdie, you little know 
 what sort of constancy mine was ; my life 
 has been but a blotted page." 
 
 " Tell me one thing about papa. Did 
 she — did mamma love him when she led 
 you to believe that it was — that it was 
 otherwise ?" 
 
 Bessie's cheek was dyed a deep carnation 
 as she uttered the last words. 
 
 " I suppose — I believe that she was ; but 
 I was innocent of all knowledge of the fact." 
 
 " Was it what was called a happy mar- 
 riage ?" 
 
 " I have never had any reason to doubt 
 it," was the reply, although the Squire's 
 confidence on the ball-night recurred to him
 
 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 177 
 
 after the words were spoken. " She had 
 not a happy disposition ;" but there would 
 have been no object in clouding that fair 
 young brow with any more sad retrospect, 
 so he only added — *'What makes you ask?" 
 
 " I have never heard anything about 
 mamma — never in my whole life — and my 
 heart gave a great jump when you said you 
 had loved her, Uncle Rex." 
 
 *' I love her daughter better. Child, you 
 must never disappoint me. Remember my 
 faith in woman now depends on you. Do 
 not abuse the gifts which Heaven has be- 
 stowed on you. Be as good as you are 
 fair, and I shall never regret that I have 
 told you the secret of my life." 
 
 The sound of approaching footsteps was 
 heard, and Colonel le Garde, who had dis- 
 played more emotion than Bessie had ever 
 seen him give way to before, rose and left 
 her abruptly. He need not have done so, 
 for they were not bound for the " Nookery," 
 and Bessie remained there for more than an 
 hour, pondering over the curious revelations 
 which had just been made. " He must have 
 
 VOL. I. N
 
 178 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 
 
 had some reason for telling me this now," 
 she thought, as she recalled the mournful 
 cadence of his voice, as he had uttered the 
 words — ^^But, Bessie, she made shipwreck 
 of my life !"
 
 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 179 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 " So justice, while she winks at crimes, 
 Stumbles on innocence sometimes." 
 
 Hudihras. 
 
 THE trial lasted three days. It was 
 one of those cases in which, although 
 everyone was morally convinced of the guilt 
 of the prisoner, the evidence being entirely 
 circumstantial, the proof was wanting in 
 some minds that she had with her own 
 hands taken away her father's life. 
 
 The defence which had been set up was 
 an ingenious one, and ably pleaded ; and yet 
 the doubt of her guilt had never for a mo- 
 ment taken hold of the minds of the twelve 
 jurors, who were not long in considering 
 their verdict. Half an hour after they had 
 listened to the summing up of the learned 
 judge, they had returned to the court, and 
 
 n2
 
 180 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 
 
 the awful word " Guilty" on the lips of the 
 foreman announced the result of their short 
 retirement. 
 
 The prisoner at the bar had gazed on them 
 hungrily for a moment, for the scales of life 
 and death trembled in the balances, and 
 then, with a loud cry, she fell back into the 
 arras of the gaoler. She heard nothing of 
 the brief address, or of its soul-stirring con- 
 clusion, in which her soul was committed 
 to the " mercy of God," and her body to the 
 hands of the executioner. 
 
 There were few likely to dispute the 
 majesty of the force of the law, which had 
 triumphed over the human emotion of pity, 
 which had been touched by the hand of a 
 master. " If," the counsel for the defence 
 concluded by saying, "there remains in one 
 of your minds the shadow of a scruple or a 
 doubt, for God's sake, gentlemen, remember 
 the Divine attribute of mercy, and give my 
 unhappy client the benefit of that scruple or 
 of that doubt. Do not go back to your wives 
 and to your little ones with the blood of a 
 defenceless woman on your heads."
 
 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 181 
 
 It was not, after all, the palpable pre- 
 sence of her accusers or her judge, but the 
 impalpable force of a system, which that 
 wretched woman might have shrunk from 
 contemplating. The judge is but the mouth- 
 piece, the jurors the instruments, the coun- 
 sel for and against but the feeders of the 
 giant whole, which, blind and stony-eyed, ad- 
 minister the terrors of man's righteous law. 
 
 Few of the gay bonnets had remained in 
 court to witness the awful end. The elo- 
 quence of Mr. Serjeant Pymm had moved 
 many of the wearers to tears during his^ 
 eloquent defence of the prisoner ; but with 
 true prophetic instinct they foresaw what 
 the verdict would be, and retired from 
 the court before the summing up of the 
 judge. 
 
 As the wretched woman was removed 
 from the dock, the court was rapidly cleared 
 of ^e remaining audience^ for whom the 
 drop scene had fallen, and who hastened 
 out to get rid of the sickening sensation 
 which over-wound nerves experience when 
 the excitement which has kept them in
 
 1 82 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 
 
 tension is passed. The atmosphere was 
 warm and oppressive even to faintness ; the 
 evening was drawing in, but still the old 
 judge sat on, determined to get business 
 done, and to try the next case on the list, 
 an uninteresting one — merely a case of a 
 petty theft, dignified into a felony by the 
 attending circumstances. 
 
 The prisoner was placed at the bar. 
 
 "Where is the prisoner? — I don't see 
 him," observed Mr. Baron Eennifeg, face- 
 tiously, no longer the mouth-piece of the 
 law in its most terrible form, but a kindly, 
 witty old gentleman, who liked to force a 
 smile from even the youngest and most 
 briefless of the barristers in court. The 
 joke, however, proceeding even from such a 
 quarter, fell flat and unrecognised. The 
 bar was bored. Why sit on in fatuous com- 
 placency in that reeking, oppressive court, 
 when there was no actual necessity for such 
 a proceeding? 
 
 " Merely to show his youthful vigour, 
 and to get complimented on it in the papers 
 to-morrow," observed one " big- wig " to
 
 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 183 
 
 another, as he hurried out of court, with his 
 bag of papers under his arm. 
 
 The counsel for the defence was receiving 
 the congratulations of his friends on the 
 splendid piece of oratory which had just 
 fallen from his lips ; and he wondered to 
 himself if the echo of that eloquence would 
 reach the ears of one who in a very short 
 interview had made a great impression on 
 his mind. He did not at that moment re- 
 member the circumstances of the other case, 
 in which she had evinced so deep an in- 
 terest ; and he was not aware that the op- 
 portunity of rendering Miss Marchmont a' 
 truly Quixotic service was slipping out of 
 his grasp ; or that a friendless child, loudly 
 accused, and entirely undefended, stood in 
 the place recently occupied by a criminal of 
 the deepest dye, for the stake of whose life 
 he had played his best — and lost. 
 
 The evidence was in this instance very 
 conclusive ; and Farmer Johnson, with a 
 sort of bull-dog ferocity, prosecuted with all 
 his strength. He swore to his nets, he 
 swore to his button, he swore to the fact of
 
 184 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 
 
 the broken window-pane, and the corres- 
 ponding gash in the child's palm. He 
 swore roundly to every condemnatory fact ; 
 and his ally, the constable, swore too ; while 
 the frightened child looked from one to the 
 other, and at the funny old man in the 
 great wig, and did not recognise the face of 
 any friend amongst them all. 
 
 The majesty of the law was about to crack 
 the nut of juvenile delinquency, as surely 
 and as deliberately as it had crushed the 
 crime of fearful magnitude with which it 
 had just had to deal. There was no indi- 
 vidual bias, no human sympathy brought 
 to bear in Joey's case. "A young gipsy 
 scamp — a little thief — a rogue and a vaga- 
 bond !" — this was society's verdict upon him. 
 A judge who was inclined to take a comic 
 view of his position at the bar ; a jury who 
 were dying for their liberty and their din- 
 ners ; an outraged British agriculturist, and 
 an implacable British policeman, seemed all 
 inclined to confirm this verdict. How then 
 about the majesty of the law? Surely the 
 robes of state and the regalia are discarded
 
 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 185 
 
 now — ^let us make a little convict out of the 
 little rogue, with as little ceremony as pos- 
 sible, and then to dinner with what appetite 
 we may ! 
 
 But the outraged British agriculturist 
 must first be heard. He has sworn to the 
 identity of a cabbage-net ; the law requires 
 him to show in what manner one cabba^^e- 
 net could so far differ from another cabbage- 
 net as not to leave such an oath open to the 
 imputation of false on the very face of it. 
 The British agriculturist is prepared for such 
 a contingency. 
 
 " My lord," he said, looking hard at the 
 little old man, who was for his part trying 
 to persuade himself that he did not feel the 
 weight of his wig more oppressive than in 
 former years, and who would like to have 
 nursed his favourite ]eg under his robes, had 
 such a course been consistent with the dig- 
 nity of his position — " my lord, I made 
 them there nets myself, and there's ne'er a 
 man in England that knows that there stitch 
 but myself, and on that I can take my Bible 
 oath with regard to them partickler nets."
 
 186 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 
 
 " Is there any peculiarity whicli you can 
 point out to the jury in this stitch, of which 
 you believe yourself to be the inventor?" 
 
 " There is a great peculiarity, my lord ; 
 anyone who knows anything about a net 
 would see it at once," and the indignant 
 fanner held up one of the nets as a chal- 
 lenge to anyone present to examine it, and 
 testify to the truth of this statement. 
 
 A juryman expressed a wish to examine 
 it more closely, but as he turned it about 
 and about, and made some inaudible remark 
 to his brother jurymen, who was grumpy, 
 and only said " Humph !" in a decidedly 
 discouraging manner, a small treble was 
 lifted up in its own defence, and the child 
 with the large eyes, and the wan cheeks, 
 and the hunted expression of countenance, 
 electrified the court by declaring — 
 
 " I can do that stitch, my lord, my own 
 self, and 1 could make a net like that un in 
 half an hour, if I had the string and the 
 tools." 
 
 The interest of the judge, a humane man 
 at heart, was excited — the interest of the
 
 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 187 
 
 twelve drowsy jurymen awakened. No 
 measured eloquence, no depth of pathos, no 
 perfection of pleading could have made half 
 the impression in favour of "Joey," than 
 did those simple words, dictated by the in- 
 stinct of self-defence, and uttered in the 
 shrill childish treble which, bearing, as it 
 did the stamp of truth, spoke home to every 
 heart, and enlisted the sympathies of the 
 court on his side. 
 
 " Provide the prisoner with the string 
 and the tools," said Mr. Baron Kennifeg, 
 authoritatively ; and during the pause th^ 
 necessarily ensued, every eye was turned on 
 the diminutive figure at the bar, who was 
 trembling in every limb. 
 
 No unnecessary delay intervened. The 
 simple " tools " were soon procured, and in 
 the warm dusky court a dead silence reign- 
 ed as the child prepared to fulfil his self- 
 imposed task. 
 
 Swiftly and deftly his thin wiry fingers 
 filled the needle, and continued to ply it 
 with such good effect, that in half an hour 
 the task was performed, and a cabbage-net,
 
 188 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 
 
 the exact counterpart of the one sworn to 
 by the farmer, was handed up for the in- 
 spection of the jury. It was the same in 
 every particular. A strong impression was 
 created in favour of "Joey." The judge, 
 addressing the farmer, said, severely — 
 
 " You have been mistaken, it appears, in 
 the matter of nets. You will do well to 
 examine the button more closely, to which 
 you have also sworn. One link in the 
 chain of evidence has been loosened, and I 
 advise you to be careful how you pro- 
 ceed in the matter. The weakest part of 
 the evidence, it appears to me, was that re- 
 lating to the theft of the coat. You had 
 better examine the button again." 
 
 The crest-fallen farmer looked again at 
 the button, to which a piece of the fabric it 
 had been sewn to still adhered. 
 
 " I could have sworn to it as I did to the 
 nets, my lord — but now I cannot believe my 
 own eyes. I hope your lordship does not 
 think " 
 
 "The button comed off an old coat of 
 father's, and mammy's got it somewheres in
 
 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 189 
 
 court,'" broke in the prisoner, looking round 
 anxiously; but alas! the woman he had 
 learned to call '^ mammy " did not come for- 
 ward, as he had evidently expected she would 
 do. The temptations of alcohol had over- 
 come her motherly instincts as far as Joey 
 was concerned, and at that moment she was 
 totally incapable of lifting up her voice or 
 her testimony in favour of the boy, who had 
 created a favourable impression, which it was 
 possible that her reputed relationship would 
 have done much to cancel and dispel. 
 
 '^ I believe I have been mistaken, your 
 lordship ; but it was a case of putting two 
 and two together, and I did not believe that 
 e'er a man or boy in England knew the 
 trick of that stitch but myself You will 
 admit, my lord, that on that supposition the 
 evidence was conclusive enough." 
 
 So, after all, the machinery of the law 
 was not required to crack the nut of juvenile 
 delinquency, or to make a little convict out 
 of a little rogue. The child had found a 
 protectress where he least expected one. 
 When the humanities had failed him, and
 
 190 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 
 
 he stood an isolated unit in the presence of 
 his accusers and his judge, the forces of the 
 law had ranged themselves on his side, and 
 granted him a patient hearing, and ocular 
 demonstration of the truth of his statement 
 — although that hearing and that demonstra- 
 tion detained a weary judge and hungry 
 jurymen half an hour longer in the stifling 
 atmosphere of a reeking court. 
 
 Joey was acquitted, and the majesty of 
 the law maintained. The case naturally 
 formed a topic for discussion amongst the 
 barristers on the circuit, who dined together 
 that night at the " Angel Hgtel." It was 
 there that Mr. Serjeant Pymm first dis- 
 covered that the case had been tried in 
 which the pretty girl who had so much inte- 
 rested him had enlisted his sympathy. 
 
 " I have lost an opportunity," he said to 
 himself; and that very night he was flying 
 by express-train to town to take final instruc- 
 tions on an important case which was to be 
 opened at the next town on the circuit. 
 He was not a man to let the grass grow 
 under his feet for the sake of the brightest
 
 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 191 
 
 eyes that ever beamed ; but as he rattled 
 past the Deanery gates in a fly, he bestowed 
 a passing thought on the innocence and 
 beauty of the lips which had asked him 
 so earnestly "whether he believed in any 
 good in human nature at all." Perhaps for 
 the first time in his life he put the question 
 to himself — and answered it with a cynical 
 smile.
 
 192 TRIALS or AN HEIRESS. 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 Phe. Thou hast my love ; is not that 
 Neighbourly ? 
 
 Sil. I would have you. 
 
 Phe. Why, that were covetousness. 
 
 Silvius, the time was that I hated thee ; 
 And yet it is not, that I bear thee love : 
 But since that thou canst talk of love so well, 
 Thy company, which erst was irksome to me, 
 I will endure ; and I'll employ thee too : 
 But do not look for further recompense. 
 Show thine own gladness that thou art employed. 
 As you Like It. 
 
 THE good news of Joey's acquittal was 
 conveyed to Bessie by the one from 
 whom such news came best — from one 
 whom she was beginning to care for very 
 much. 
 
 After a quiet dinner at the Deanery (the 
 Squire dined that day with the judges in 
 town), the girls were playing croquet on the
 
 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 193 
 
 lawn, unconscious of the lynx eyes of Mrs. 
 Gibbet fixed upon them from above, when 
 a visitor was announced, who was heartily 
 welcome to at least one of the party present 
 on the lawn. 
 
 " Here is Mr. Reginald Kingdom, my 
 love, come to acquaint you with the result 
 of some trial in which he says that you are 
 interested," said Mrs. Mowbray, who had 
 left her game at backgammon with the 
 Dean, and stepped out on the terrace over- 
 looking the croquet-lawn as she spoke. 
 
 The mallet dropped from Bessie's hand. . 
 
 " Oh ! tell me," she exclaimed — " tell me 
 quickly — is Joey acquitted? But I need 
 not ask. I know it by your face." 
 
 " I would not have been the bearer of 
 evil tidings, Miss Marchmont. Your pro- 
 tege is all right, and the Colonel is going to 
 take him back with him to-night." 
 
 Bessie clapped her hands with the genuine 
 happiness of a child, and then proceeded to 
 question Reginald as to how it all came to 
 pass. 
 
 " Did any one defend him ?" she ^sked 
 
 VOL. I.
 
 194 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 
 
 rather shyly. For she was not past the age 
 of romance, and had thought it possible that 
 the learned serjeant might have undertaken 
 Joey's defence con amore^ for the sake of 
 oppressed innocence, if not for that of her 
 own beaux yeux. She was more pleased, 
 however, to hear how it really happened. 
 
 '-'• Did I not always tell you that he was 
 innocent ?" she said ; and she blessed Uncle 
 Rex in heart for taking the friendless child 
 under his protection. "It is so like him," 
 she thought, "saying so little and doing so 
 much, bless his kind heart !" 
 
 "And what became of the widow?" 
 Bessie asked as she and Reginald conversed 
 a little apart from the rest. 
 
 Mrs. Duberry was always called " the 
 widow " in the confidential talk between 
 those two. She was still staying at the 
 Rectory, although Mrs. Kingdom had long 
 since begun to weary of her. But hospi- 
 tality being one of the cardinal virtues in 
 her estimation, she gave it in that instance 
 precedence of the honesty, which was a 
 dominant chord in her character, as a rule.
 
 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 195 
 
 " The widow," Reginald replied, laughing 
 as he spoke, " came out in a new bonnet 
 every day, and kept the smartest for the 
 last. I wonder whether she pays her mil- 
 liner's bills? I watched her closely, and 
 she held smelling-salts to her nose, and tried 
 to look emotional ; but not a muscle of her 
 face moved, I noticed." 
 
 " Did she stay till the last ?" 
 
 " Not until the very last ; but I believe 
 she could have done that. Have you heard 
 that she is likely to become a permanency 
 in the neighbourhood ? She is in treaty 
 for the Lodge — that little place at Bick*- 
 leigh." 
 
 " What a bore it will be for me ! — she will 
 never be out of the house, especially as papa 
 has taken it into his head that I want a 
 chaperone." 
 
 " Don't let her get a footing there. She 
 is a dangerous woman, and is playing a deep 
 game. Take my advice, and steer clear of 
 her. Bertie's a capital fellow, but his mo- 
 ther is a rare humbug — as I saw from the 
 first." 
 
 o2
 
 196 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 
 
 " It's all very well to say steer clear of 
 her ; but unfortunately papa likes her, and 
 what can I do ?" 
 
 Bessie did not perceive the real drift of 
 Reginald's speech. Any matrimonial de- 
 signs on the part of the widow, with regard 
 to the Squire, had never entered, and were 
 not likely to enter her head. Her com- 
 panion looked grave — he saw rocks a-head 
 if she did not ; but his was a nature that 
 sought the agremens of life, and he turned 
 the conversation at once into another chan- 
 nel. 
 
 " I've got my commission," he said; "Lord 
 Sturm wrote to my father this morning. I'm 
 awfully lucky to have got it so soon. Won't 
 you congratulate me, Bessie ?" 
 
 " Of course I will, and with all my heart — 
 I am so glad !" 
 
 " Say one little word more. Let me hear 
 my own name once again — the name you 
 used to call me when you were the little girl 
 from the Hall." 
 
 " I don't know what I called you then ;
 
 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 197 
 
 but when you were a rude schoolboy, it was 
 not a complimentary adjective I attached to 
 your name ; or to Harry's either. Should 
 you like me to tell you what that was, 
 Reggie ? " 
 
 "No! — no! — say nothing to take the 
 taste out of that. I shall ride home now 
 with a light heart. The world is before us, 
 Bessie, and the Squire will come round by- 
 and-by." 
 
 " Come round to what ?" 
 
 " Do not humbug me, Bessie — you know 
 what I mean. If you stand fast, darling, 
 fire and water will not make me relinquish 
 my hopes." 
 
 " Hush ! hush !" Bessie said nervously ; 
 "you must not — you really must not say 
 these sort of things to me." And resum- 
 ing her abandoned mallet, she signified 
 her intention of going- on with the game, 
 which the young man's arrival had inter- 
 rupted. 
 
 Their acquaintance had drifted into an 
 intimacy of a tender nature, which was en-
 
 198 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 
 
 tirely unsanctioned by the Squire, who lost 
 no opportunity of expressing his displeasure, 
 or of manifesting his dislike to the whole 
 Kingdom family. No opportunities would 
 have occurred for the constant meeting of 
 the two — whom we might now designate as 
 " young lovers/' — if the Squire's own flir- 
 tation with the widow had not made it a 
 part of his policy to keep up outwardly 
 friendly relations with the Rectory so long 
 as she remained a guest there. On some 
 plea or another, a day seldom passed with- 
 out some communication taking place be- 
 tween the two houses ; although for the 
 thirty years that Mr. Kingdom had been 
 Rector, the Squire's visits had been very few, 
 and very far between. While those of 
 Bessie and her governess in her school-room 
 days had been dictated by the conventional 
 rules of formal politeness, which they had 
 duly performed about once a month, and 
 then under laughing protest on the part of 
 the young heiress, who said that it was, she 
 supposed, " for their sins " that they im-
 
 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 199 
 
 posed such penance on themselves ; conclud- 
 ing with the impetuous exclamation, " It is 
 such an awful bore !"
 
 200 TEIALS or AN HEIRESS. 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 " Widows axe a study you will never be very proficient in." 
 
 Fielding. 
 
 THE Lodge at Bickleigh was a pretty 
 little nutshell of a cottage, within a 
 walk or a very easy ride of the Hall. The 
 widow saw many advantages in the situation 
 of it, and the neighbourhood had become 
 very attractive to her. She had taken pos- 
 session only the day before, and had been 
 busy all the morning arranging the elegant 
 nick-nackeries which constituted her share 
 in the furnishing department (for the Lodge 
 was let furnished), which so soon give a 
 room, under skilful hands, a refined and 
 even a luxurious appearance. 
 
 Mrs. Duberry was a mistress in the art of 
 " appearances." It was indeed one which
 
 TEIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 201 
 
 she had studied all her life. Whether as 
 regarded her own showy person, or the ele- 
 gance of her immediate surroundings, she 
 had succeeded better than most people in 
 achieving the difficult feat of shining in 
 society upon '^ nothing a year." Her means 
 were not in any sort of proportion with her 
 tastes, and she had the education of her son 
 to pay for out of her very limited income. 
 These facts, notwithstanding her long sejour 
 — Mrs. Duberry was fond of using French 
 words and sentences to eke out the deficien- 
 cies of her native tongue — at the Rectory^ 
 began to stare her unpleasantly in the face ; 
 and as Mrs. Rigors, her maid, entered the 
 room with a number of letters on a silver 
 salver, she turned away from her with a 
 shudder. 
 
 " No more of these terrible duns. Rigors, 
 unless you wish to kill me outright ; there, 
 take them and lock them up in that drawer. 
 They must wait ; they shall wait !" she added, 
 stamping her foot on the ground with an 
 angry gesture. "And what is the matter 
 with you, pray, Rigors? You look like
 
 202 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 
 
 Essence of verjuice ! Will it be troubling 
 you too much to ask you to brush my hair?" 
 
 '' I have never neglected my duty, ma'am, 
 as I am aware," was the dignified reply; 
 " but I never did live in a situation before 
 where the lady's dresses was made away 
 with underhand, and djewels and such like 
 taken and sent off promiscuous, so that I 
 don't know what I'm 'sponsible for and 
 what I'm not. I'm sure my heart was just 
 in my mouth when I took and missed them 
 pearls out of the dressing-case, that went off 
 to town yesterday morning. I'd rather give 
 it up altogether than not be treated with 
 more confidence, that I would." 
 
 The much finer lady's-maid of a much 
 finer lady would have made her anger felt 
 by a stony reserve, instead of by this torrent 
 of eloquent indignation. But it would have 
 been equally perceptible, and perhaps alto- 
 gether harder to bear ; like any martyrdom 
 that suffers in silence, it cannot be refuted 
 or argued away. 
 
 " Well, do as you like. Rigors," her mis- 
 tress answered. " I'm not going to ask you
 
 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 203 
 
 to stay. You know very well how I am 
 circumstanced, with a bill as long as my arm 
 from Madame Dentelle as it is. You can 
 take the China crape shawl that I got stained 
 with coffee the other day, and the poult de 
 soie, that I have only had on my back three 
 times ; only do look a little less sour and 
 dismal if you can. I must dress for dinner 
 — Mr. Bertie will dine at home." 
 
 " Shall I take your hair down before I 
 bring the coffee ?" 
 
 " Certainly ; and while you are brushing 
 it I can tell you about the tradespeople. 
 Have you inquired in the village, as I told 
 you, about the best to employ." 
 
 " No, I have not, ma'am. I should im- 
 agine that those who supply the Hall people 
 are the best." 
 
 "Do they understand that if I em- 
 ploy them, I am not going to be dunned 
 every fortnight for money. They must study 
 my convenience if they mean me to study 
 theirs." 
 
 Mrs. Duberry's convenience, as far as the 
 payment of her tradespeople was concerned,
 
 204 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 
 
 admitted of a very wide interpretation, and 
 Mrs. Rigors answered pertly, 
 
 "I don't know about that, ma'am, Fm 
 sure. I believe those sort of people gene- 
 rally do expect to be paid some time or 
 another ; but I don't meddle with other 
 folks' business, and I know nothing of the 
 people in the village. Your hair is coming 
 off in handfulls. I'm afraid to touch your 
 head with a hard brush — the partings are 
 thinner than ever." 
 
 " My goodness ! — you don't say so !" ex- 
 claimed the lady, now really alarmed. "No 
 wonder my hair comes out with your brush- 
 ing — you have a heavy hand. Give me 
 some of that wash I got the other day to 
 strengthen the roots ; and don't touch it 
 again for a week." 
 
 After a pause, at which Mrs. Rigors as- 
 sisted sulkily, and during which her mis- 
 tress anxiously examined into the truth of 
 her statement, the latter observed, while 
 she tenderly sponged the white partings of 
 her raven tresses with milk of roses, or some 
 such elegant extract, poured into a china
 
 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 205 
 
 saucer, "It was only the other day that some 
 one was saying that I had twice the quantity 
 that Miss Marchmont has. I wouldn't spare 
 a single hair that I could help." 
 
 " A good head of hair's a great beauty, 
 any ways ; but it won't last for ever. Miss 
 Marchmont 's is as fine as silk, and no vexa- 
 tion or worry to bring it out — it's that does 
 it ; and it's more than one's life's worth to 
 put up with it ; and to hear those one lives 
 with and serves spoken of disrespectful as 
 folks who can't pay their just debts." 
 
 " I know what you are driving at," re; 
 torted the mistress, with a bitter laugh ; 
 "you can't have a little patience to wait 
 until I tell you that it's all right." 
 
 This mysterious inuendo I must take it 
 on myself to explain in this manner. The 
 contract between Mrs. Duberry and her 
 maid was a somewhat peculiar one. The 
 latter had promised to waive the little mat- 
 ter of wages for the first year of service, as 
 a matter of speculation. She was an ar- 
 tistic and experienced tire-woman, and under 
 her auspices she believed it to be more than
 
 206 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 
 
 likely that the handsome widow would 
 make a brilliant match. Mrs. Rigors, in 
 case of such an event coming off, was to 
 have a hundred pounds down on the wed- 
 ding-day. This compact, it is true, had 
 been neither signed, sealed, nor delivered, 
 but it was a fact, nevertheless, perfectly un- 
 derstood by the contracting parties. 
 
 After this revelation, it is no use at- 
 tempting to conceal the fact that the widow 
 was an adventuress, but of so skilful and 
 ready a wit, that she almost managed to 
 deceive herself, and did quite deceive her 
 son, who believed in his mother implicitly, 
 and looked upon her shams and her subter- 
 fuges, which could not fail sometimes to 
 come under his notice, as merely the re- 
 sources to which a clever and versatile 
 woman of the world must have recourse 
 whose merits and aspirations are above the 
 level of her means. It assumed, in fact, in 
 his eyes, the process of " levelling up " with 
 which recent debates have made us familiar 
 in theory, if not in practice. During his 
 father's life-time — who had been a grave.
 
 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 207 
 
 careful man, of business-like habits and 
 sober thoughts, as slow and conscientious in 
 the bearings of his mind as his wife was 
 ready, but unprincipled in hers — Bertie had 
 been the unwilling auditor of many a weary 
 wrangle and jangle about ways and means ; 
 and he was thankful to his mother, who 
 was unselfish in this one particular, and 
 during the days of her pinched widowhood 
 had never bothered him about her embar- 
 rassments or money difficulties ; but who, 
 living as she did from hand to mouth, man- 
 aged to keep all the bitter, biting cares of 
 poverty locked. in her own breast. 
 
 She was playing for high stakes, and she 
 was a woman of determined will; but to 
 Bertie, even in their tetes-a-tete^ she was the 
 lively companion, the bright, still beautiful 
 mother, the admired of all admirers, and the 
 cleverest woman in the world. On the same 
 evening as that on which we have seen her 
 stung and irritated to the quick by the pres- 
 sure of duns, the inroads of time upon the 
 beauty on which rested her sole chances in 
 life, and the impertinence of a waiting-
 
 208 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 
 
 woman, in whose power she felt herself to 
 be, she was all smiles and radiance as she 
 entered the drawing-room dressed for the 
 evening, and the pleasant greeting for her 
 son on her lips. 
 
 "Well, Bertie, my dear, what sport did 
 you have to-day ?" 
 
 " Very little, mother. Birds were wild, 
 and the Squire by no means in the best of 
 tempers. I shot badly, too, and that did not 
 mend matters. I say, mother, how awfully 
 jolly you've made the little place, by Jove !" 
 
 " Slang ! slang I slang ! You young men, 
 with your pipes and your slang phrases, 
 really are " 
 
 "Not a good sort, are we, mother? 
 Never mind, I like to get a good rise out of 
 you. You look handsome when you are 
 angry, you know ! " 
 
 " No, T don't know at all, you incorrigible 
 boy," answered the mother, playfully tap- 
 ping him with her jewelled fingers, and 
 running them through his thick brown hair. 
 " So the Squire was not in the sweetest of 
 tempers to-day, was he ?"
 
 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 209 
 
 ^' Not by any means, I assure you ; and 
 he snubbed that dear pretty daughter of his, 
 who brought us lunch in the pony-carriage. 
 It was all because Kingdom was there, that 
 was as plain as a pikestaff." 
 
 " Bessie Marchmont is a little imprudent, 
 and that puts ' dear papa ' out. She mil 
 find Reguiald a match for her ; he has a 
 will of his own — and a pretty strong one, I 
 take it." 
 
 "I say, mother?" 
 
 "Well, what do you say? — and why be- 
 gin a sentence with ^ I say ?' It is very 
 vulgar." 
 
 " Well, mother, I had an idea which I 
 was going to communicate to you, and not 
 being over -burdened with such commodities, 
 I made the preface as attractive as I could. 
 What a sell it would be for us all — for 
 Bessie herself — if the Squire should take it 
 into his head to marry again !" 
 
 " What could have put such an idea into 
 your head ? — and why would it be a sell for 
 us all?" 
 
 " What you said about Kingdom put the 
 
 VOL. I. p
 
 210 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 
 
 idea into my head. I don't mean to say 
 that he's not in love with her for her own 
 sake, for I know he is ; but he's an awfully 
 ambitious fellow, too, and I know he doesn't 
 altogether dislike the idea of Miss March- 
 mont's being a great heiress. Some fellows 
 like one thing, some another ; I should very 
 much &like the idea, if she was likely to 
 be my wife ! " 
 
 "" You think that the dirty acres weigh in 
 the balances with Bessie's own charms. Fie, 
 Bertie, fie ! You should be more loyal to 
 your friend." 
 
 " I don't think he cares for them a hang, 
 except as likely to belong to Bessie ; but I 
 don't think he would dislike being one day 
 master of Marchmont in right of his wife." 
 
 ''I thought at one time, Bertie, that you 
 were rather smitten with the heiress your- 
 self!" 
 
 ''Not with the heiress, mother — there 
 you mistake me. If Bessie had been some 
 poor curate's daughter, I don't say that I 
 wouldn't have had a shy ; but as it is, and as 
 she likes Kingdom, I'm not going to try to
 
 TKIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 211 
 
 cut the poor devil out, that's the English 
 of it." 
 
 Bertie concluded his sentence with a "haw- 
 haw " air of the heavy swell ; and as he was 
 an inimitable mimic, his mother did not 
 refuse him the compliment of a smile. He 
 was one of the best natured young fellows 
 in the world ; and notwithstanding his de- 
 cidedly plain features, there was that about 
 him which would have made him no des- 
 picable rival in the eyes of many men, and, 
 in the matter of that, of women too. Not 
 perhaps to Reggie, because he and Bessi^ 
 had been old playfellows, and the regard 
 which she entertained for him had always 
 been latent in her heart — so at least she now 
 believed ; but in a case where no such pre- 
 conceived affection existed, he might have 
 had a good chance. He w^ould have been 
 a less exacting lover than Reginald was 
 likely to prove ; but self-abnegation is not 
 always a taking quality with women. They 
 love the lordly domineering nature which 
 takes their devotion as a matter of course, 
 ignoring the fact that the greatest tenderness 
 
 p2
 
 212 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 
 
 always lies latent in the greatest strength. 
 
 It is as well to admit at once, without 
 further preface or inuendo, that Reginald 
 had taken Bessie's affections in a veni^ vidi, 
 vici sort of manner, which, notwithstanding 
 her high spirited temperament, she did not 
 in the least resent. If indeed their positions 
 had been reversed, if he had been heir to 
 Marchmont and ten thousand a year, and 
 she the Rector's daughter, she might have 
 exacted more and assumed more of the 
 princess in her demeanour towards one who 
 could have raised her to his own level in 
 the social scale. As it was, she loved to 
 feel that any worldly advantages which she 
 possessed, were as nothing in the balances, 
 when weighed against the true love and de- 
 votion of her incomparable knight. 
 
 Good Mrs. Kingdom's day-dreams seemed 
 likely to assume a more tangible shape. 
 But the Squire was furious. He could not 
 altogether blind himself to facts ; nor indeed 
 did Bessie, whose disposition was as open as 
 the day, wish him to do so. She saw 
 nothing degrading to herself, or to the
 
 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 213 
 
 Marchmonts, in the avowed allegiance of 
 the handsomest and most &^m^w^-looking 
 man she had ever met. 
 
 It must not, however, be imagined that 
 any words had passed the Squire's lips, 
 either to Bessie herself or to any other, 
 upon the subject which so tried his temper, 
 and the truth of which forced itself daily 
 on his unwilling observation. He was far 
 too reserved a man to talk confidentially to 
 his daughter on such matters. He did not 
 seem to realize the fact that she was no 
 longer a child, to be petted and coaxed 
 with sweet confections when good and 
 prettily behaved, and frightened into obe- 
 dience by frowns and inuendoes when she 
 had unconsciously committed some petty 
 breach of decorum. He had spoiled and 
 humoured her as a child, and now that she 
 was beginning to put away childish things 
 with her dolls and her pinafores, he was 
 likely to prove a more severe disciplinarian, 
 and to attempt a freer use of the curb than 
 the spirited girl was likely tamely to brook. 
 
 It is a true saying of the gentle philoso-
 
 214 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 
 
 pliers, tliat " in most cases a lover has no 
 rival so much to be dreaded as a father ;" 
 and more particularly does the observation 
 apply to the father of an only child. 
 
 A long time had elapsed since the widow 
 and her son had enjoyed an uninterrupted 
 tete-k-tete. At the Rectory, Mrs. Kingdom 
 had been too punctilious and old-fashioned 
 a hostess to allow her guest much time to 
 herself; and she had indeed strained the 
 point of ill-timed courtesy to such an extent, 
 that Mrs. Duberry had informed the Squire 
 confidentially that she heard " the click of 
 those eternal knitting-pins in her sleep." 
 Now that the mother found herself alone 
 with her son, she found some little difficulty 
 in approaching a subject which she had 
 made up her mind to broach to him sooner 
 or later — the subject of her own views and 
 prospects (I might have said designs) with 
 regard to a second marriage. It was a deli- 
 cate matter for a mother to discuss with a 
 son, and more especially with such a son. 
 Bertie Duberry was quite as likely to regard 
 a step-father elect with the invidious eye of
 
 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 215 
 
 a rival in his mother s affections, as that 
 father himself to eye jealously the encroach- 
 ments of a lover's alFection with regard to 
 his only daughter. Bertie had never hinted, 
 either obliquely, directly, or remotely, at 
 the possibility of his mother's making a 
 second choice. He had never rallied her 
 as she would like to have been rallied, upon 
 the attentions of her numerous admirers, 
 which indeed, where she was concerned, he 
 seemed to look upon as a matter of course. 
 It never had entered his head to imagine 
 that her flirtations were serious, hond-ji^e 
 flirtations, likely to terminate any day as 
 flirtations do ; or that she would seriously 
 entertain the idea of submitting her emanci- 
 pated neck once more to the matrimonial 
 yoke. 
 
 '' I wish, my dear," she said, as they sat 
 together over the dessert (which consisted 
 of peaches, grapes, and fruit from the March- 
 mont hot-houses, the most luxurious features 
 of the simple repast), " that I could afford 
 you a better allowance ; but it is as much as 
 I can do, I assure you, to make both ends
 
 216 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 
 
 meet. I don't often bother you about money 
 matters, do I, my dear?" 
 
 " I'll tell you what it is, mother, you 
 don't bother me half enough about them. 
 You have all the worry and anxiety of 
 economizing for us both, and I live on the 
 fruits of your self-denial. I would rather 
 make half my present allowance do, than 
 that you should have a moment's annoyance 
 or uneasiness about making both ends meet. 
 I cannot bear to think of your being worried 
 about such things." 
 
 Anyone who had seen Bertie at that mo- 
 ment, his honest face kindled with affectionate 
 earnestness, and his eyes remonstrating even 
 more than his words, with the want of trust 
 in him which his mother's reserve implied, 
 would have hesitated to apply the adjective 
 "plain" to his irregular but not unpleasing fea- 
 tures. It was a face that grew upon you ; 
 a face to love, notwithstanding what Regi- 
 nald, in his lordly superiority, called its 
 ugliness. His mother, not by any means an 
 emotional woman, was moved by his earnest- 
 ness.
 
 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 217 
 
 ^* Matters are not so bad as that, Bertie," 
 she replied. " I only wished you to under- 
 stand that it was not from any parsimonious 
 or saving motive on my part that you do 
 not have the same allowance as others of 
 your contemporaries, who, I am sure, are 
 less deserving of it than yourself; but I 
 sometimes think, my dear," — here the widow 
 began to toy with a costly bracelet on her 
 arm, wondering in her own mind what she 
 could get for it, were she unfortunately re- 
 duced to further straits. *^ I do not know 
 if I am doing wisely in systematically de- 
 clining what would prove so greatly to your 
 advantage. Can you guess what I mean, 
 Bertie ?" 
 
 " About hearing of something to my ad- 
 vantage ? Really, mother, that is a chimera 
 I have long given up as too childish. I am 
 determined to grasp something very much 
 to my advantage some day, if I have the 
 chance ; but the grapes I wot of are at the 
 top of the tree; the}^ will not tumble into my 
 mouth." 
 
 *' Dear boy, suppose and suppose, I will
 
 218 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 
 
 only say suppose such a thing, as that grapes, 
 real Hamburgs like these," — she playfully 
 held up a large bunch of the luscious fruit as 
 she spoke — '^ were going to tumble into 
 your mouth, only for the trouble of opening 
 it, what should you say then?" 
 
 " I should say it was a confounded piece 
 of good luck ; and perhaps find them sour, 
 after all." 
 
 " Nonsense, Bertie, you are ready to make 
 a joke of everything." 
 
 "Well, seriously, mother, what is this 
 new-found Dorado ? Is it a gold mine dug 
 out of the depths of your own busy brain ? — 
 some Editor turned out a trump, after all, 
 and come down handsomely for the last 
 production of your pen ? I am warm now, 
 I see by your face." 
 
 " Cold, cold, colder than ever. My mine 
 has been exhausted long ago, Bertie, and 
 my brains wrung dry. It gives me a head- 
 ache even to look at a pen ; so suggestive of 
 the old formula that has given me many a 
 heartache and a sleepless night, ' The Edi- 
 tor of the Tyhurnian Magazine presents his
 
 TKIALS OF AN HEIKESS. 219 
 
 compliments to Mrs. Duberry, and is sorry 
 that lie cannot find space for her clever 
 paper on " Kettle Drmiis," which he returns 
 by the same post.' No, Bertie, you must 
 guess again." 
 
 " Has Aunt Flo come down handsomely 
 at last ? — or has she found out that she has 
 been dead for some years, only that no one 
 has been kind enough to inform her of a 
 fact so greatly to her advantage ? Is it a 
 legacy, mother, a thumping legacy from 
 Aunt Flo?" 
 
 *'No, no such luck as that. They say 
 that Aunt Flo has taken out a new lease of 
 her life, and has had her auburn wig dyed 
 again. That reminds me to ask you do you 
 think my hair is getting thin ? Rigors de- 
 clares that I am rapidly growing bald ?" 
 
 " Your hair getting thin ! you growing 
 bald! If you are, mother, I can only con- 
 gratulate you on the possession of an inimit- 
 able wig." 
 
 " Well, I only repeat what Rigors told 
 me this morning. It cost me a sigh, for 
 there is no fool like an old one, I sup-
 
 220 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 
 
 pose, and I was a little vain of my hair." 
 "What a fool the woman is! To tell you 
 the truth, mother, I never did like her ; she 
 has an impertinent manner sometimes, and I 
 would get rid of her if I were you. I wish 
 she had said so to me^ 
 
 The last word was uttered in a tone of 
 fond appropriation, which a young bride- 
 groom might have adopted towards his 
 week-old bride ; and would have been as 
 honey to the soul of most mothers. But 
 Mrs. Duberry would have preferred that he 
 had made himself the mouth-piece to ex- 
 press the admiration of others for her well- 
 preserved charms. She would have been 
 more pleased, for instance, with some such 
 observation as the following, in answer to 
 her challenge : " You should have heard 
 what Colonel Ajax said about your hair the 
 other day ; he did not wonder that it was 
 always falling down, for he did not believe 
 the comb was made that could confine such 
 abundant tresses." 
 
 But Bertie was too proud of his mother 
 himself to praise her by proxy. It was not
 
 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 221 
 
 jealousy for his father's memory which made 
 him so resolutely close his eyes to the possi- 
 bility of her forming fresh ties. He would 
 have been jealous, and bitterly jealous, on 
 his own account, and no worldly advantage 
 reaped to himself by a wealthy marriage 
 on her part, would have compensated to him 
 for the loss of her undivided affection and 
 care. 
 
 It was a harder task to open her son's 
 eyes to the real aspect of things than the 
 widow had expected it would prove. There 
 was something in his nature which awed her 
 in his serious moods; and that something 
 was an attribute which she did not possess, 
 and of which, in its widest sense, she hardly 
 comprehended the meaning, namely, the 
 attribute of truth. He was one of those 
 natures over which a mother, a sister, or a 
 wife might have held undivided sway as 
 long as he believed in them ; and curious as 
 it may appear to the reader, who has seen 
 the wrong side of the silk of Mrs. Duberry's 
 character, he did believe in her implicitly. 
 She might well, indeed, have hesitated be-
 
 222 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 
 
 fore dispelling tlie fond illusion which shed 
 a halo of holiness round her life. 
 
 The time, however, had arrived. She had 
 spread her nets, and the unwary bird was, 
 she had reason to believe, already struggling 
 in the snare. The Squire had long been 
 growing more and more marked in his at- 
 tentions, and she, a clever woman of the 
 world, held the winning cards in her hands. 
 
 Had it not been for the opportune flirta- 
 tion between Bessie and Reginald, she might 
 not have seen her way so clearly to the odd 
 trick. As it stood, although the proposal 
 had not been actually made, she could calcu- 
 late to a certainty on the chances which 
 would make her mistress of " The Hall," 
 and, to use the language of the turf, they 
 would have been a hundred to one in her 
 favour. 
 
 Finding that her timid diplomacy did not 
 advance matters nmch in the direction of 
 the intended denouement^ she altered her 
 tactics, became grave and thoughtful, and 
 allowed a heavy sigh to escape her. 
 
 This last circumstance did not fail to at-
 
 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 223 
 
 tract Bertie's attention, and to enlist his sym- 
 pathies at once. 
 
 " Dear old mother, you are not well, you 
 are not happy — I am sure that you have 
 something on your mind. Say the word, 
 and I will give up Oxford, and go into some 
 merchant's office — anything to smooth away 
 a wrinkle from this dear forehead," he 
 added, kissing the smooth brows as he spoke, 
 under which lay throbbing a brain aching 
 with the weight of secret care, which it was 
 its owner's firm determination to conceal 
 from the one most interested in its happi- 
 ness and welfare. 
 
 " I was thinking of my lonely evenings 
 when you are away, dear, that was all. My 
 nerves are not what they were." 
 
 " I wish you had not taken the Lodge, 
 then, mother. It's all very well in the sum- 
 mer, but I fear you will find it lonely and 
 dull during the winter months. Why not 
 try to under-let it, and return to your old 
 lodgings in town ?" 
 
 " Because my heart is set upon ruralizing, 
 Bertie," his mother answered, as she placed
 
 224 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 
 
 her hand playfully on his shoulder. "I 
 must learn to like the country and country 
 pursuits — as for country neighbours, in time, 
 I suppose, one might even learn to tolerate 
 them." 
 
 "But what necessity is there for your 
 learning to be bored to death? I won't 
 allow it, so there's an end of the mat- 
 ter. I'll ride into town to-morrow the 
 first thing, and speak to Toole and Trotter 
 about it. There will be no difficulty about 
 it in the hunting season, with two packs of 
 hounds handy. You shan't stay another day 
 unless you like." 
 
 " But what if I do like, Bertie ? And 
 what you say about hunting reminds me — 
 reminds me to give you a message from the 
 Squire, to the effect that if we are in resi- 
 dence here in the winter, he will be happy 
 to mount you as often as you like." 
 
 " Did he? He is more of a brick, then, 
 than I took him for. He is not afraid of m^, 
 I suppose ?" 
 
 " I don't know about his not being afraid 
 of you ; but I fancy I can guess what he
 
 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 225 
 
 was afraid of, and that was, of our leaving 
 the neighbourhood. Cannot you form a 
 guess, now?" 
 
 " I can easily imagine that he would be 
 unwilling to lose you as a neighbour ; but 
 your happiness is not to be sacrificed to the 
 convenience or the whim of Squire March- 
 mont, great man as he is. Bessie must 
 find some other chaperone to the winter 
 balls. She'll be regularly engaged to King- 
 dom, too, by that time, and he'll look after 
 her sharp enough, if he's the fellow I take 
 him for." 
 
 " I must say, Bertie, that I do not con- 
 sider Bessie Marchmont's conduct either 
 dutiful or becoming. The poor Squire feels 
 it very much ; and she will only have her- 
 self to thank if he should take it into his 
 head to marry again." 
 
 " Well, they say there is no fool like an 
 old one ; but I can't see why he is to take 
 umbrage with a pretty girl of seventeen for 
 being taken with a pleasant fellow like 
 Kingdom." 
 
 " The Squire is not old, neither is he by 
 
 VOL. I. Q
 
 226 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 
 
 any means a fool. Perhaps some day you 
 will learn to think of him in another light — 
 he is a very good friend to me." 
 
 ''And so he ought to be. But for all 
 that, I don't see why you are to stay here 
 and be bored to death, just to oblige him." 
 
 " What if I should stay at the Hall, in- 
 stead of at the Lodge, Bertie ? I must be 
 plain with you, I see, for you will not take 
 a hint, and spare my blushes," Mrs. Duberry 
 added, affectedly. 
 
 ''You don't mean to say that you are 
 going to marry him yourself?" Bertie asked, 
 with a sudden gust of passion, aroused by 
 this unmistakeable hint. " You must be 
 joking — you must know how strongly I 
 should oppose it." 
 
 The widow was silent for a moment — 
 perhaps in speechless indignation, perhaps 
 with a passing feeling of a nobler kind ; then 
 she plucked up her spirit, in which she was 
 by no means deficient, and said, 
 
 "You forget yourself, Bertie, in your 
 anxiety, I presume, for Miss Marchmont's 
 interests. I have borne pinching and poverty
 
 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 227 
 
 for your sake long enough — I do not see 
 why I should be expected to bear it any 
 longer for hers." 
 
 "Mother!" 
 
 It was only one word, but deep, genuine 
 feeling, tender and true, was contained in it. 
 Even Mrs. Duberry was moved. 
 
 "I beg your pardon," she said at last, 
 " I did not mean to reproach you ; but " — 
 here her handkerchief went up to her eyes, 
 a sight which her son for his part could 
 never see unmoved — " it did seem hard to 
 me to be lectured like a child, and told that 
 my own son would see proper strongly to 
 oppose a measure which, after due delibera- 
 tion, I have decided upon, as likely to be 
 conducive to my own happiness. If you 
 had cared for the heiress, I might have 
 thought otherwise ; but I am tired of poverty, 
 for my part, Bertie ; and I own that fifteen 
 thousand a year has its attractions for me as 
 well as for your friend." 
 
 Bertie's faith in his mother was under- 
 going a rude ordeal. Every one is conscious 
 
 q2
 
 228 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 
 
 of the temptations oiFered to a buoyant 
 nature, by such free interchange of conversa- 
 tional coin as that so literally rendered in a 
 former part of this chapter, occurring be- 
 tween the mother and son, in which he had 
 casually and carelessly remarked that the 
 Marchmont acres had their due weight in 
 his friend's appreciation of the Marchmont 
 heiress. Everyone knows what it is to 
 have such words reflected back on him from 
 the distorting mirror of a depraved imagina- 
 tion. Bertie's cheek paled under the impu- 
 tation implied. 
 
 " For God's sake, mother !" he said, now 
 strongly excited, "do not put words, or at 
 all events wrong meanings of words, into 
 my mouth. And do not for one instant 
 imagine that I will look on and see my 
 mother barter herself for any man's wealth. 
 I w^ould rather " 
 
 " Break stones upon the road, I presume 
 — that is a course which generally suggests 
 itself to the gushing order of young people 
 in such emergencies. But life has harder 
 stones to break than any you will find on
 
 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 229 
 
 the way-side ; and I think I have had my 
 share." 
 
 "You are hard upon me, mother — you 
 know I did not mean any reproach. I only 
 beseech you not to take any step hastily, or 
 without consulting me." 
 
 " In order to give you an opportunity for 
 displaying the opposition with which you 
 threaten me, I was only sounding you ; and 
 as to taking any steps without consulting 
 you, that would be rather reversing the 
 usual order of things, would it not ? You 
 can never say now that I have not warned 
 you, which, according to your view of the 
 matter, is the most correct expression that 
 occurs to me. I cannot reckon on, it seems, 
 my son's support." 
 
 The last words were spoken haughtily, 
 and Mrs. Duberry moved towards the door 
 with the stage sweep of a tragedy queen. 
 Her son intercepted her, and laid his hand 
 detainingly upon her arm. 
 
 " In anything, in everything else, mother, 
 but I entreat vou not to embark in a scheme 
 that would entail discord and confusion to
 
 230 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS, 
 
 every one concerned. I would not have 
 my mother enter a family circle where she 
 would be an unwelcome intruder to even 
 one. As to your money matters, my dearest 
 mother, I will take them in hand at once. 
 You have been worried and harassed, and 
 driven to this, and I am the most selfish dog 
 a^ive." 
 
 ''Thank you, my dear, for your offer of 
 assistance. I am not, however, quite so in- 
 competent as you imagine. What man has 
 done he can do, or woman either. You re- 
 fuse me your sympathy, I decline your help. 
 I find little consolation in figures. This is 
 my first confidence, and it will be my last. 
 You have not responded kindly to it, and 
 henceforward I will bear my own burdens. 
 Good night. I have a bad headache, and 
 shall go to bed." 
 
 So saying, she extended the tips of her 
 figers to her son, who raised them to his lips 
 and kissed them. There had been a certain 
 dignity about her last speech and he had 
 been much moved. 
 
 '' I fear," he said to himself, as he pon-
 
 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 231 
 
 dered over it late into the night. ^' I fear I 
 have been very unkind." 
 
 Long after twelve o'clock the light was 
 still burning in his mother's room. Long 
 after one she was still up, leaning over her 
 Devonport, on which a number of papers 
 were littered. Under her fingers lay a sheet 
 of white, or rather of creamy-tinted note- 
 paper, stamped with an elaborate and ele- 
 gant monogram, and delicately scented. On 
 that dainty page — for Mrs. Duberry never 
 economised in trifles — five or six rows of 
 figures had been added up, and under them 
 was written, in a fine Italian hand. 
 Sum Total, £580 IZs. ^d, 
 
 " Urgent reasons for disobeying my son," 
 she said aloud to herself, as she closed the 
 lid upon the result of those weary calcula- 
 tions, which had lasted far into the night. 
 
 Before we utterly condemn the sordid 
 motive which dictated the course she had 
 resolved on, let us realize the incompati- 
 bility of all such cares with the nature femi- 
 nine and imaginative, and pity those women 
 who, having touched pitch in the shape of
 
 282 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 
 
 them, come out with soiled fingers from the 
 defiling contact. There are few who come 
 unscathed from the ordeal of trial by gold.
 
 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 233 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 " Then, ay, then — he shall kneel low, — 
 With the red-roan steed an ear him, 
 
 Which shall seem to understand — 
 Till I answer, ' Rise and go !' 
 
 For the world must love and fear him 
 Whom I gift with heart and hand. 
 
 " Then he will arise so pale, 
 
 I shall feel my own Ups tremble 
 With a yes I must not say." 
 
 " Nathless maiden brave, ' Farewell.' " 
 "I will utter and dissemble 
 Light to-morrow with to-day." 
 
 Mrs. Browning. 
 
 THERE are three notable epochs in a 
 woman's life. The first, the one in 
 which she possesses power unconsciously, 
 and does not use it. The second, the one 
 in which she possesses it consciously, and 
 most probably abuses it. The third, the one
 
 234 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 
 
 in wliicli the exercise of it becomes a promi- 
 nent passion, and she most probably loses it. 
 
 This remark, of course, only applies to 
 those women who possess some character- 
 istics to bring them noticeably on the world's 
 stage. Beauty, talent, and even wealth may 
 do much ; and there is the latent charm 
 of fascination which some possess who can 
 boast of none of these attributes in any great 
 degree. The expression " a most fascinating 
 woman," presents a picture of greater per- 
 fection to the ardent imagination than " the 
 most beautiful," " the cleverest," or " the 
 richest." Indeed, with regard to the latter 
 qualification, the power it bestows is only 
 in an indirect way over the heart and imagi- 
 nation. Obsequious tradesmen, bare-headed 
 bankers' clerks, sleek men of business, tame 
 toadies, and large lacqueys, are appendages 
 seldom much prized by women, excepting 
 when they can be triumphantly displayed 
 as the spoil of her more womanly and irre- 
 sistible charms. 
 
 It would have been to many minds Bessie 
 Marchmont's least recommendation, that she
 
 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 235 
 
 was heiress to fifteen thousand a year. It 
 was the one which she could most easily 
 have parted with when we first became ac- 
 quainted with her, when she roamed " in 
 maiden meditation, fimcy free." But now 
 that her affections had been bestowed upon 
 one who, as far as worldly means and posi- 
 tion went, was greatly her inferior, she began 
 to value her own prospective wealth for his 
 sake. She knew him to be ambitious — self- 
 seeking is not so well-sounding a word — 
 and she gloried in the idea that her riches 
 might one day contribute to the realizatign 
 of his brightest day-dreams. So she affec- 
 tionately put it to her own generous heart 
 — too noble to attribute or to understand a 
 base motive in another, when that other was 
 one she loved. And she was, I must admit, 
 very much in love, so that she was blind to 
 many things which, at any other time, 
 would have excited her anxious interest 
 with regard to the ever-increasing intimacy 
 between the Hall and the Cottage at Beck- 
 leigh. 
 
 The Squire now frequently rode by him-
 
 236 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 
 
 self in the afternoon, and Bessie, notwith- 
 standing a few feeble remonstrances of con- 
 science, walked much more than she had 
 ever done about the park and the grounds 
 alone. Father and daughter were grow- 
 ing rapidly strangers to one another, and it 
 was to Uncle Rex that Bessie clung more 
 fondly than ever during this new era of her 
 life. His betrayal of his life's secret into 
 her keeping seemed to have made him 
 doubly dear to her. He had loved her for 
 her dead mother's sake at first ; and, oh ! 
 how truly since for her own. She had 
 recalled to mind a conversation which she 
 had once overheard when, as a very little 
 ohild, she had been ill with a feverish cold. 
 She had started up from her sleep crying, 
 and there came to her at once her nurse, and 
 a woman who had lived with Mrs. March- 
 mont as maid, both before and after 'her 
 married life. Having soothed and com- 
 posed the little one (as they thought) to 
 sleep, they held over her crib-side a whis- 
 pered and mysterious conversation, the sub- 
 stance of which now returned to Bessie's
 
 TKIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 237 
 
 mind, and on which the words of Uncle 
 Rex recorded as having taken place in the 
 Deanery, threw a new and a mysterious 
 light. 
 
 " She's like her poor mamma in her sleep. 
 Law bless me ! it seems but yesterday, and 
 she's been gone nigh upon four years." 
 
 " She was a proud one too. It always 
 seemed to me that she held her head higher, 
 and smiled less than any lady I ever see. 
 Master was a kind husband to her too ; but 
 she had trying ways." 
 
 " She was as bright a young lady as you 
 would wish to see once; but mark niy 
 words, Mrs. Gibbs, my poor mistress's heart 
 was in the grave, dead, and cast away at 
 sea. That's where her smiles went and her 
 tears too. Lord ! how I have heard my 
 poor lady cry, when the wind howled of a 
 night. ' It's a fearful night at sea, Woolner,' 
 she would say, and go as white — like as one 
 dead." 
 
 These words, which were emphasized in 
 the spasmodic under-tones peculiar to the 
 ignorant narrator of thrilling facts, came
 
 238 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 
 
 back with remarkable distinctness to Bessie's 
 mind. She thought of Uncle Rex's patheti- 
 cally quiet utterance — " But, Bessie, she 
 made shipwreck of my life !" 
 
 "Poor mamma!" she sighed, "who 
 knows whether the tears she shed over 
 some shipwrecked hopes of her own were 
 not the expiation of the same sin as that 
 which had blighted the faithful heart, which 
 in its integrity looked back through the long 
 vista of years, and cherished the pale 
 memory still." 
 
 A thought occurred to her. In her dress- 
 ing-case, full of the pretty trinkets and 
 tokens of an indulgent and petted girl-hood, 
 she had a special treasure — a miniature 
 picture of her mother, set in pearls. She 
 would give this portrait to Uncle Rex. Be- 
 fore, however, she closed the case upon the 
 lovely features for the last time, she pressed 
 the precious enamel to her lips. 
 
 "Mother," she whispered, "you could 
 never have known wliat it was to love as I 
 love. God grant that I may never prove the 
 shipwreck of the heart that is truly mine !"
 
 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 239 
 
 '*It was a lovely maidenly prayer; and 
 very fair was the maiden who uttered it, as 
 she set out on her self-imposed mission, with 
 a glad light in her sunny eyes. The Colonel 
 did not say much — it was not his way — and 
 as he reverently locked the precious relic of 
 a love long dead away in his escritoire, he 
 said, 
 
 '^Some day before I die I will tell you 
 a story of long ago. Time has left me every- 
 thing but the sting." 
 
 " Dear Uncle Rex, T know that you will 
 always be my friend — I will always trust in 
 your 
 
 " I am but a broken reed, dear child; you 
 must, as the old song says, seek for some 
 * stronger arm than mine to guide and 
 govern you.' Have you seen Joey ? He is 
 installed as gardener at the Hermitage, by 
 virtue of a three-pronged fork and a hoe." 
 
 " What a delightful idea ! You have the 
 knack of doing everything that is kind and 
 good without even giving people time to 
 wish. You should have seen how the Rec- 
 tor hemmed and hawed when I spoke to
 
 240 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 
 
 him about taking Joey on in the garden, to 
 weed and run errands. ' You see, we can't 
 get over the fact of the lad's having been in 
 gaol, Miss Marchmont,' he said, twirling his 
 eyeglass like this." Here Bessie imitated 
 Mr. Kingdom's trick of manner, half nervous, 
 half pompous, to the life, so that the Colonel 
 was surprised into a grim chuckle. " Why, 
 even Reggie laughed, and he could never 
 quite understand my interest in Joey. In- 
 deed, he called him ' a wretched little cad,' 
 until he saw that I was really angry, and 
 then he left off." 
 
 " You and Reginald Kingdom appear to 
 have become great allies. Birdie," the Colonel 
 observed, and Bessie's heart bounded upon 
 hearing a subject mentioned in friendly con- 
 versation which had been tacitly tabooed at 
 home, by one whom she could love and re- 
 spect with all her heart. 
 
 "I like him very much," she replied, 
 blushing and looking down; and the rosy 
 red spread over her brow and neck as she 
 added the words — " And he likes me ; but 
 papa is very angry, very unjust, and will
 
 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 241 
 
 hardly speak to him. And he is so changed, 
 papa is — oh ! so changed to me." 
 
 Here Bessie looked very much inclined 
 to cry, a sight which the Colonel could not 
 witness with equanimity, for beneath a some- 
 what rugged exterior, beat a heart as tender 
 as-that of a child. To him, indeed, might 
 have heen applied the words, 
 
 " With tears for nought but others' ills, 
 And then they flowed like mountain rills," 
 
 for his tears had long ceased to flow for any 
 sorrows or cares of his own. 
 
 " Dear child," he said, " do not distress 
 yourself You have been your father's sole 
 darling for so long, that he is naturally 
 jealous of any divided attention ; and with 
 his temperament he shows this feeling, al- 
 though perhaps not in words. Remember, 
 Birdie, that you are very, very young — too 
 young to decide for yourself in a matter 
 that will affect the happiness of your whole 
 life. If your lover is a true knight, he will 
 learn any lesson from your lips — you must 
 both learn the lesson ^ wait awhile.' " 
 
 VOL. 1. R
 
 242 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 
 
 " We should not mind that — I should not 
 mind it, at least, if papa would only be 
 kinder in his manner, and not treat us both 
 like a pair of naughty children. I cannot 
 help thinking but that Mrs. Duberry is at 
 the bottom of it — she toadies papa so, it 
 makes me sick." 
 
 " She is very often up at the Hall, eh, 
 Bessie?" 
 
 " A great deal too often to please me — 
 she is coming to dine to-night, and that 
 long-legged son of hers too — this is the 
 third time in a fortnight." 
 
 Bessie ran off these sentences in a quick, 
 childishly irritable sort of way she had when 
 she was what nurses call " a little put out." 
 She was an odd mixture, and no one would 
 have believed her to be the same girl, 
 womanly and self-possessed in manner, who 
 had discussed the chances of life and death 
 with Mr. Serjeant Pymm on the terrace of 
 the Deanery garden. Many would have 
 preferred her in her present mood, with 
 the pretty pouting lips, which seemed ask- 
 ing to be kissed into smiles.
 
 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 243 
 
 " I think, Birdie," said tlie Colonel, after 
 a pause, "that I shall come up to the Hall 
 to dine to-night. I believe that I can claim 
 carte blanche" 
 
 " Of course you can. It is too kind, too 
 good of you, for, to tell you the truth, the 
 widow is becoming a positive nuisance. I 
 knew what it would be when she settled at 
 the Lodge." 
 
 The Colonel looked grave — perhaps he 
 was in his own mind calculating the chances 
 of the widow's settling some day at the 
 Hall. But he did not breathe a hint of the 
 sort to Bessie, so happily as yet unconscious 
 of the deep game which was being played 
 under her very eyes. Unfortunately the 
 poor girl's own cards exacted her best at- 
 tention ; and like an unskilful tyro she was 
 actually playing into her enemy's hand. 
 The more she devoted herself to the in- 
 tricacies of her own romance, the more op- 
 portunities were afforded to the widow for 
 her cautious by-play of flirtation with the 
 still handsome widower, who was getting 
 dependent upon her for the amusement of 
 
 R 2
 
 244 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 
 
 his leisure hours. A dangerous position for 
 a middle-aged man, long deprived of the 
 delights of contemporary female society, and 
 as open to flattery as a girl of seventeen. 
 
 The Colonel had heard enough to arouse 
 his serious alarm, and he was anxious for 
 an opportunity of seeing with his own eyes 
 whether the infatuation on one side was as 
 great as the speculation on the other. If 
 such should prove to be the case, he greatly 
 feared that a blow was in store for Bessie, 
 from which no efforts of his could shield 
 her, and which would prove, he greatly 
 feared, the blasting of her opening charac- 
 ter, in which the stormy elements (whose 
 latent existence he more than suspected) 
 had not as yet been brought to light. 
 
 " Remember my advice," he said, as she 
 rose to go — '^do not thwart your father. 
 He has never been accustomed to contradic- 
 tion." 
 
 "I do not wish to thwart or contradict 
 him, if he would only remember that I am 
 no longer a child." 
 
 " You will gain nothing by factious oppo-
 
 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 245 
 
 sition. Let your motto for the present be 
 * wait awhile.'" 
 
 " If everyone were like you, Uncle Rex, 
 there would be no quarrels or divisons in the 
 world. Papa and I are too much alike in 
 disposition to agree — we are both very fond 
 of our own way." 
 
 "The family temperament, eh, Birdie ?" 
 " I suppose so," the girl answered, as she 
 waived her hand in token of adieu at the 
 garden gate, to which the Colonel accom- 
 panied her. '' Au revoir,'' she added, laugh- 
 ingly, " as a friend of ours would say," as 
 she tripped away in the direction of the park 
 glades. She had been quite unconscious of 
 the ardent gaze of two bead-like eyes, set in 
 the head of her protege " Joey," who had 
 indeed been partly hidden in a tangled 
 thicket in the wilderness of a garden, where 
 wild flowers were left unmolested to mingle 
 their blossoms with those of rarer and culti- 
 vated sorts. Joey felt more at home in it 
 than he would have done in what the penny- 
 a-liners are fond of describing as a "brilliant 
 parterre. ^^
 
 246 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 
 
 Bessie was too mucli preoccupied at that 
 moment to notice the presence of the lad, a 
 circumstance which surprised the Colonel. 
 As she walked home leisurely through the 
 park, her hat swinging by the ribbons from 
 her hand, leaving her head unprotected save 
 for the abundant wreathed tresses of dark 
 hair, the sound of horse's hoofs behind her 
 on the green sward startled her from a 
 reverie. 
 
 " I have brought my charger to show you, 
 Bessie. I want you to christen him," Regi- 
 nald said, as he reined in a noble-looking 
 horse of a deep red chesnut, which he sat 
 lifee a centaur — ^for he was a splendid horse- 
 man. "Is he not a beauty ?" 
 
 " He is indeed," Bessie replied, her eyes 
 kindling with pleasurable excitement, as she 
 gazed admiringly on the well-matched pair. 
 '* He is worthy of a Royal name. You 
 might call him Rufus, his coat shines like 
 red gold." As the young girl spoke she 
 laid her hand upon the crest of the horse, 
 over which the mane fell in crisp curling 
 waves. " Good horse," she said, caressingly,
 
 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 247 
 
 " I could love you very dearly if you were 
 
 mine." 
 
 " Rufus he shall be called from this hour," 
 said Reginald, as he stooped over the little 
 hand that bestowed the caress upon the 
 horse, and tried to detain it in his own ; but 
 the young girl withdrew it, while her cheeks 
 kindled into flame. " I wish you would say 
 as much to me, Bessie, or with this altera- 
 tion, that you would promise to love me very 
 dearly if you were mine." 
 
 " Perhaps I do not think it a likely con- 
 tingency, and may safely promise you that," 
 the girl replied, with one of the sweet shy 
 smiles that her lover liked to provoke. "At 
 all events," she added, seriously, " we must 
 not think about it yet." 
 
 *^ Why not — why not now, when I am 
 going — going far away, Bessie?" replied 
 Reginald, who had dismounted, and was 
 standing with the reins in his hand confront- 
 ing Bessie in the pride of his manly beauty, 
 which had never appeared more to advant- 
 age than it did at that moment. 
 
 " Far away from poor Jeanette," she an-
 
 248 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 
 
 swered, lightly, but her heart beat quickly 
 under the white muslin folds of her dress, 
 and the frank eyes moistened as she raised 
 them appealingly to his. 
 
 " I would not care so much if I had your 
 promise before I went." 
 
 " You know that is impossible, Reggie, in 
 the light you mean. It would be deceiving 
 papa ; and whatever it might cost me to 
 deny you anything, I cannot consent to that." 
 
 " If people are unjust, Bessie, they can- 
 not always expect to be treated with perfect 
 candour." 
 
 " Papa has a right to expect it, even if he 
 is unjust, and I do not allow that he is." 
 
 " I only ask for your promise. I do not 
 care how long I may have to wait, with such 
 a prize in prospect. I only want you to 
 promise that you will one day be my wife. 
 Darling ! is that so very hard ?" 
 
 *^I cannot, Reggie, indeed I cannot. I 
 cannot engage myself to you or to anyone 
 without papa's consent. If you cannot trust 
 me, we had better give up thinking of one 
 another. If you cannot trust me after this,
 
 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 249 
 
 I am not worth your thinking of," she added, 
 her beautiful eyes flashing on him through 
 the rising tears, for as the last appeal had 
 passed Reginald's lips he had kissed her for 
 the first time; hence her allusion to the indis- 
 solubility of the tacit agreement which would 
 hereafter bind them to one another. '' It is 
 cruel to urge me, Reggie. You have no 
 faith." 
 
 " By Jove ! darling, you have hit upon 
 the truth ! I have no faith. No faith in 
 myself You must know very well that any 
 one who had known and loved you could 
 never care for any other woman in tlie 
 world. But / have no such security. I 
 shall join my regiment next week, and there 
 are a hundred better fellows than I am who 
 will be trying to carry you off." 
 
 " Let them try," the young girl answered, 
 her smiles now breaking through the tears 
 that glistened under her sweeping lashes, 
 like rain-drops in an April shower. " When 
 the hundred better fellows come, let them 
 try. You know as well as I can tell you 
 that I shall never care for anyone else,"
 
 250 TEIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 
 
 " You are a thousand times too good for 
 me, and no one feels that more keenly than 
 I do, but it is my nature to go in for the 
 highest prize, and I cannot afford to let it 
 slip out of my grasp. Say yes, darling — ^it 
 is but a little word, and it is all I ask." 
 
 " I cannot say ' yes ' in the way you mean. 
 I will promise to be true to you, as true and 
 as firm as steel, but further than that I can- 
 not go. Am I not worth waiting for, 
 Reggie?" 
 
 "You are worth all the world to me, and 
 that makes the lesson of waiting a hard one 
 to learn. How long is it to be ?" 
 
 " Nearly three years — until I am of age." 
 
 " Are these your only conditions ?" 
 
 *' My only ones." 
 
 " Will you not make a compromise? A 
 woman, you know, comes of age at eighteen. 
 Say that 3^ou will consider yourself emancir 
 pated at eighteen." 
 
 " I cannot say so, because I know it will 
 not be the case. Papa will not have learned 
 to think of me as anything but a mere child 
 by that time. Uncle Rex, too, has advised
 
 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 251 
 
 me strongly to wait, and he knows papa 
 better than anyone." 
 
 " Confound Uncle Rex ! What right has 
 he to interfere between us f " 
 
 " The best right possible ; he is the truest 
 friend I have. I always feel safe in follow- 
 ing his advice." 
 
 " Well, then, I must make up my mind 
 to three years of banishment. I cannot come 
 home to see you, to be thrown constantly 
 with you, in the society of others, and be 
 nothing more to you than the rest of the 
 world. I should be jealous of every on^ 
 who spoke to you — every one who looked at 
 you. If there would only break out a red- 
 hot war I would win you at the point of the 
 sword." 
 
 If Reginald intended by this hint to work 
 upon the fears of the woman he loved, and 
 so cause her to yield the point for which he 
 was striving, he missed his mark. She 
 would have made an unflinching soldier s 
 bride, and the very name of " glory" stirred 
 her pulses, as a horse is stirred by the sound 
 of a drum.
 
 252 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 
 
 " I believe you would be glad to get rid 
 of me, Bessie," he added, with a laugh that 
 had a dash of bitterness in its ring. 
 
 " Don't be unkind, don't be unjust, Reggie. 
 It is only that you might have an opportu- 
 nity of distinguishing yourself that I thought. 
 I am very ambitious for those I love." 
 
 The last words dropped like honey into 
 the ear of him who heard them for the first 
 time from her lips. 
 
 " You do love me, then, Bessie, my own 
 darling, and yet you will let me go without 
 the promise I ask." 
 
 " I cannot — indeed I cannot — it is cruel 
 to urge me. I could not tell papa — he 
 does not understand me — he is not like 
 Uncle Rex." 
 
 " You are wilful, Bessie." 
 
 " That is what papa says. It is hard to 
 be blamed on all sides." 
 
 "Come over to mine — to the enemy's 
 side, if I am to be placed in that light," and 
 with a sudden movement he passed his arm 
 round her slight waist, and pressed her to 
 his heart.
 
 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 253 
 
 '' No, Reginald," she said, gently but 
 firmly disengaging herself from his embrace ; 
 " you make me feel how wrongly, how de- 
 ceitfully I am acting. I have told you that 
 I love you. Is not that enough ?" 
 
 " It must be enough — it ought to be 
 enough," the young man answered, some- 
 what abashed by the reproach contained in 
 the words, to which the bright flush of 
 maidenly shame gave almost the appearance 
 of anger. " I beg your pardon if I have 
 offended you, but a cold good-bye would 
 have been a mockery between us. Forgive 
 me if I have vexed you — you will have it 
 all your own way for the future. Think of 
 me a little sometimes, Bessie ; and to aid 
 your memory, do not think me a coxcomb 
 if I ask you to accept of this. The original 
 was done for my mother, and I had this one 
 copied for you." 
 
 Bessie's eyes gleamed as the young man 
 produced a morocco case as he spoke, and 
 placed it tenderly in her hand. It con- 
 tained an admirable likeness of himself, 
 and an exclamation of pleased surprise
 
 254 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 
 
 escaped her lips as she gazed on it. " It is 
 very like." 
 
 " Will you keep it for my sake ?" 
 
 " There can be no harm in that. Papa 
 has one of Mrs. Duberry on his table." 
 
 "" Do not put us in the same light. You 
 might have one of Bertie, for all I know." 
 
 " Perhaps I have. I like him as much as 
 I dislike his charming mamma." 
 
 " I am horribly jealous. Perhaps too you 
 possess a lock of his hair." 
 
 " No ; but I am going to steal a lock 
 from some one now. Don't be conceited, 
 not of yours," she added, smiling archly, 
 and producing from a sheathed case of fili- 
 gree silver, a dainty pair of scissors, " but of 
 this gentleman's," and turning to the noble 
 animal who stood quietly as a lamb with his 
 bridle over Reginald's arm, she severed a 
 lock of his red gold mane, and twisting it 
 into a curl over her fingers, enclosed it in 
 the morocco-case. "He is a beauty," she 
 said quietly ; "I shall prize it very dearly 
 for his sake." 
 
 " Happy horse," Reginald replied to this
 
 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 255 
 
 challenge, as Bessie laid her fair cheek 
 against the warm shining neck, that curved 
 with pride under its gentle pressure. If 
 something warm and bright and spherical in 
 shape took for a second the golden hues of 
 the satin coat, we can excuse the only wit- 
 ness of that womanly weakness if he pressed 
 the little hand clasped in his to his lips, as 
 he said, "That tear is worth all the world 
 to me. I will come back and claim you, 
 darling, by virtue of that tear ; I believe the 
 thought of it would bring me out of my 
 grave." 
 
 Such were the parting words of the first 
 and last stolen interview which the young 
 lovers had ever permitted themselves. They 
 were such words as pass between young 
 lovers every day of every year, but they had 
 a mournful cadence in Bessie's ear. It was 
 not a word to be associated with that hand- 
 some manly lad, so full of life and spirits, and 
 it jarred upon the heart already softened by 
 strong emotions. " It is a very mournful 
 word," she thought. "Oh! why did I 
 allow it to be the last ?"
 
 256 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 
 
 But as she gazed fondly on the perfect 
 face in her picture, and met the frank, fear- 
 less gaze of her young soldier's eyes, she 
 smiled softly to herself, and put from her 
 heart the echo of the word, the most mourn- 
 ful of all words, the epitome of all earthly 
 sorrow — '' the grave."
 
 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 257 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 " A pretty woman is a welcome guest." 
 
 Byron. 
 
 "TTTHERE is the brougham going?" 
 
 V T This question was asked by Miss 
 Marchmont of Mr. Serschal, the butler, as 
 the carriage drove away empty from the 
 door, as she returned from her walk a full 
 hour after she had parted from Reginald in 
 the park. 
 
 ^^It is going to the Lodge, by master's 
 orders, miss, to fetch their people up to 
 dine." 
 
 Mr. Serschal was a privileged individual, 
 who had lived in the family many years. 
 Hence the apparent familiarity of the re- 
 mark. His young mistress had been " little 
 missie" to him during her years of child- 
 
 VOL. I. s
 
 258 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 
 
 hood, and it was not until she had entered 
 her teens that he had trained his tongue to 
 the less familiar title of "Miss." 
 
 "What next?" Bessie asked herself, as 
 she ran lightly upstairs to her own room to 
 dress for dinner, for there was no greater 
 offence in the Squire's eyes than a want 
 of punctuality at meals. She coloured with 
 indignation at this new proof of her father's 
 infatuation about the widow, and was, as 
 Lucy expressed it in a private conversation 
 with Mrs. Minching, the housekeeper, in a 
 greater " taking " than she had ever seen 
 her young lady in since she had waited on 
 her in the capacity of maid. 
 
 "Everything went contrary ^^^ she ex- 
 plained. " She pulled her hair out of my 
 hands in a pet, and twisted it up anyhow. 
 ' Law, miss,' says I, ' you're never going to 
 let it bide that figure, sure ?' ' Never mind, 
 Lucy,' says she, 'what does it matter? I 
 don't care a fig how it looks.'" 
 
 " She don't like the goings on, and no 
 wonder," was Mrs. Minching's reply to this 
 remark. " What with worriting here and
 
 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 259 
 
 worriting there after widows and such hke, 
 there's no peace of one's life. Mark my 
 words, Lucy, there'll be another mistress in 
 this house before the year's out, and another 
 housekeeper, for I'm not going to be put 
 upon after all these years. And the Squire 
 must look out for some one else if that's his 
 game, I can tell him." 
 
 " Law ! Mrs. Minching, do you really 
 think it will come to that ?" 
 
 " Come to what, child ? — what is likely 
 to come of it, that's all I want to know? 
 Shes wide awake." 
 
 " She's a vast deal too porlite for me," pul; 
 in Mr. Serschal asthmatically. " It's ' may I 
 trouble you, Mr. Serschal.' All mighty civil 
 now, but I see her casting her eye over my 
 plate, and valuing the whole service to an 
 ounce. We hear enoudi of her shabbv 
 ways in the village — we don't want her up 
 at the Hall." 
 
 Meantime poor Bessie sat unconscious of 
 the mine under her feet, dreaming her own 
 day-dreams in the inner drawing-room — a 
 comfortable home room, in which they al- 
 
 s 2
 
 260 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 
 
 ways sat when there was only a family party 
 — looking prettier than ever, notwithstand- 
 ing Lucy's verdict, with a flushed cheek, like 
 a child's that it has been sleeping on, and 
 her hair in picturesque disarray. 
 
 "The brougham is a-coming down the 
 avenue, miss," Mr. Serschal whispered con- 
 fidentially as he stooped over the hearth, 
 under the pretence of seeing to the fire. 
 He liked to be the bearer of any intelli- 
 gence, whether likely to prove welcome or 
 the reverse, with the fussy ofiiciousness 
 common to his class. But his young mis- 
 tress's face only betrayed a passing feeling 
 of impatience as she replied curtly, " Is it ?" 
 
 The Squire, who had been in a black 
 mood, and unapproachable all day, did not 
 make his appearance until just as the car- 
 riage drove up to the door, and then fresh 
 as a daisy, and with a flower in his button- 
 hole, he hastened to receive the widow, 
 with a display of old-fashioned courtesy, 
 which his daughter thought quite super- 
 fluous ; while her son looked grave and ill 
 at ease. As the lady advanced towards
 
 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 261 
 
 Bessie witli an air of mild triumph, the latter 
 was struck, against her will, with the bril- 
 liancy of the beauty which she would gladly 
 have ignored. 
 
 Mrs. Duberry was indeed radiant that 
 evening, and evidently in her happiest 
 mood. She made a gesture as though she 
 would have embraced her young hostess in 
 the exuberance of her geniality ; but Bes- 
 sie's eye fell coldly upon her, and intention- 
 ally checked the action in the bud. 
 
 " We are not late, I trust," she said, turn- 
 ing to Mr. Marchmont with a fascinating 
 smile, which quite dispelled any lingering 
 frowns from his brow, caused by the chill- 
 ing demeanour adopted by his daughter 
 towards the favoured guest. " I did not 
 keep your horses a single second at the 
 door, did I, Bertie ?" 
 
 "No, mother, not a second," was the 
 reply ; but the words were not accompanied 
 with a beaming smile or a merry jest, as 
 Bertie's replies to his mother so often were. 
 It was cold, dry, and unsympathetic, and he 
 at once turned to Bessie and be^an to make
 
 262 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 
 
 conversation, apparently with an effort un- 
 usual with him, for he was not only very 
 easy to get on with himself, but he had the 
 gift of putting others at once at ease with 
 themselves, and as a natural consequence 
 with him. Bessie would have liked him but 
 for his relationship to the woman who was 
 becoming the hete noire of her life. 
 
 "Have you seen Kingdom to-day?" was 
 the second question which he asked in this 
 instance ; a blundering one for him, and one 
 w^hich brought the quick blood into Bessie's 
 cheeks with a rush, for which she despised 
 herself and hated the unlucky questioner 
 who had exposed her to humiliation under 
 the basilisk eye of the widow, which she 
 felt to be fixed on her face. 
 
 '* Yes," she replied, " I have seen him ;" 
 and conscious that the Squire was listening, 
 she added, with an effort of self-command, 
 " I met him in the park." 
 
 " You know, then, that he has orders to 
 join at once?" 
 
 " So he told me — on the fifteenth." 
 
 Bessie's cheeks were crimson, which Mrs.
 
 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 263 
 
 Duberry perceiving, immediately made a 
 feint of drawing off attention from the fact 
 by saying in her most affectedly interested 
 tones, 
 
 '^ Anything in the papers to-day, Squire ?" 
 
 It was a particularly offensive thing to 
 Bessie, that Mrs. Duberry should make use 
 of this famiUar appellative in addressing 
 her father, and she was not slow to resent 
 it. 
 
 ^^ Papa does not hear you, Mrs. Duberry," 
 she answered for him ; and it was a fact 
 that she stated, for on one side Mr. March- 
 mont was more than a little deaf, and there 
 was nothing which offended him more than 
 having attention called to the circumstance. 
 
 " Never mind, my dear, it is of no conse- 
 quence — the remark will not bear repeat- 
 ing," Mrs. Duberry observed suavely ; but 
 Bessie hardly heard her, for at that moment 
 the Colonel entered the room with the halt 
 in his walk, always doubly conspicuous 
 when he was nervous, which proved how 
 painful it was to him to join any society in 
 which the stranger element was to be found.
 
 264 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 
 
 The Squire greeted him, but hardly with 
 his usual warmth. 
 
 "This is quite an unexpected pleasure, 
 my dear Colonel," he remarked, as he ad- 
 vanced towards his guest with outstretched 
 hand. 
 
 " Not to the lady of the house — she has 
 been duly informed of my intentions, Squire, 
 I assure you." 
 
 '' Indeed ! I have seen very little of the 
 lady of the house to-day ; and she has not 
 been in a communicative mood of late," 
 was the satirical reply, under which Bessie 
 winced, although she felt, poor child, that 
 the taunt was an undeserved one. There 
 are tempers of mind which render the most 
 natural confidences and the most familiar 
 common-places difficult and almost impossible. 
 
 " I did not see you, papa, after Uncle 
 Rex told me that he would come to dinner. 
 You were not come home from your ride 
 when I came in." 
 
 " I am afraid I must plead guilty for the 
 Squire's defalcation. Miss Marchmont. / 
 kept him to five o'clock tea."
 
 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 265 
 
 The Squire coloured — by proxy, I pre- 
 sume, for the lady displayed no such sign of 
 embarrassment, and hung out no signal of 
 distress to proclaim the absence of the 
 sentinel over her heart. But then it might 
 be said, in excuse for her self-possession 
 under the circumstances, that no man 
 woman or child had ever seen Mrs. Du- 
 berry blush. 
 
 Surely never was a party composed of 
 more ungenial elements than that assembled 
 in the inner drawing-room at Marchmont 
 that evening. A father at variance with his 
 daughter ; a mother with her son, for Ber- 
 tie had been, as his mother expressed it, 
 ^' very odd " in his manner to her ever since 
 the half-made confidence in which she had 
 broken to him her contemplated matrimo- 
 nial designs ; a shy nervous man ill at ease 
 with himself, and with those in whose so- 
 ciety he found himself, fulfilling his self-im- 
 posed task of ascertaining the real state of 
 aiFairs between two middle-aged lovers, old 
 enough, as he told himself, to know better ; 
 a young man, deeply in love himself, gene-
 
 266 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 
 
 rously guarding the interests of his absent 
 friend; a young girl intensely bored with 
 the whole party, very cold and very in- 
 different to both mother and son, little 
 suspecting how important a part they might 
 both be about to play in that future to 
 which she looked forward with deeply 
 speculative eyes. 
 
 The Colonel resigned to the younger 
 man the privilege of taking their young 
 hostess in to dinner, excusing himself on the 
 plea of his lameness. 
 
 *^ I am but a poor prop,'' he said, as Bes- 
 sie lingered to whisper in his ear, " Thank 
 you for coming, Uncle Rex, the Philistines 
 are upon me, as you see." 
 
 Then she took Bertie's proffered arm, 
 who waited for her in a grave, quiet way, 
 unlike himself He was not a formidable 
 looking Philistine, it is true, but Bessie was 
 prejudiced against him, as his mother's son, 
 and she answered coldly enough the few 
 questions with which he attempted to break 
 the ice of conversation during dinner.
 
 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 267 
 
 " Miss Marchmont is tired, I fear — she 
 looks a little pale," remarked Mrs. Duberry, 
 in a perfectly audible whisper to the Squire ; 
 " she is sitting with her back to the fire — 
 perhaps that might account for it." 
 
 " I have seen nothing of Miss Marchmont 
 to-day," answered the Squire to this remark ; 
 and he added, with encreasing asperity, and 
 without looking towards Bessie as he spoke, 
 " She goes her way, and I go mine. Young 
 people in these days do pretty much as they 
 please, it appears to me." 
 
 " You must take care of your daughter, 
 my dear sir. She is looking far from well 
 to-night." 
 
 It was quite true, as Mrs. Duberry ob- 
 served, that Bessie was looking extremely 
 pale. The flush which had dyed her cheek 
 crimson as she sat in the twilight dreaming, 
 had faded completely away, and she looked 
 white and weary. The family temperament, 
 as the Colonel called it, was too keen in 
 most cases for the family physique, and Bessie 
 was no beefsteak and porter heroine, im-
 
 268 TEIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 
 
 pervious in frame to tlie wear and tear of an 
 excitable mind. Her father's heart melted 
 towards her as his eye followed that of Mrs. 
 Duberry, and rested upon his daughter's face. 
 
 '' Give Miss Marchmont a glass of port 
 wine," he said to the butler, and, as his order 
 was obeyed, he called to her in more friendly 
 accents than she had heard for some days, 
 " Bessie, my dear, your good health." 
 
 " Thank you, papa." 
 
 The words were said with one of her 
 quick, ready smiles, accompanied, however, 
 with a choking sensation in the region of 
 the throat. She was in the mood to be 
 emotional, and this overture on her father's 
 part towards the removal of the tacit barrier 
 between them touched her heart. Her 
 spirits rose after this episode, and those of 
 Bertie seemed to answer to the same chord. 
 His wit, which was ready and sparkling, be- 
 gan to flow in its natural channel, and the 
 dinner, which had begun inauspiciously, 
 ended much better than Bessie could pos- 
 sibly have foreseen. Mrs. Duberry 's manner 
 towards her, when they retired to the draw-
 
 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 269 
 
 ing-room, was soothing and caressing, what 
 in another class of life would have been 
 called '' comfortable." For the moment 
 Bessie wondered what it was that had in- 
 spired in her mind so strong a feeling of 
 dislike to the widow. 
 
 A tete-a-tete, anticipated or accidental, 
 between two comparative strangers (and 
 two people must be strangers until they 
 have speilt such a tete-k-tete) seldom leaves 
 any two persons on exactly the same footing 
 as it found them. 
 
 Frequently as Mrs. Duberry had dined at 
 Marchmont, she had never been the only 
 lady guest before, and she availed herself of 
 this opportunity of trying to ameliorate the 
 dislike which she knew by intuition, the 
 womanly instinct, existed in the young girl's 
 heart towards herself. She did not give 
 Bessie credit for entire ignorance with regard 
 to her ultimate designs ; few people, in- 
 deed, would have done so ; but we are the 
 last to perceive the significance of facts in 
 which we are the most deeply concerned. 
 Mrs. Duberry believed that she was recon-
 
 270 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 
 
 ciling Miss Marchmont to the idea of her 
 future position in the house, little imagining 
 that such a contingency had never even en- 
 tered her head, or that she had never looked 
 on her in any other light but as a chance in- 
 truder on the privacy of her home. 
 
 " How comfortable a fire looks," she ob- 
 served, cheerily, as she took her place in 
 the corner nook of the sofa, spreading out 
 her skirts, made of some soft rich fabric, as 
 she spoke. " I am not privileged to stir it 
 yet, ray dear." 
 
 " Oh ! by all means, if you like," answered 
 Bessie, rather mollified towards the widow 
 by the homely word caress, which she did 
 not feel inclined to resent as she had done 
 the attempt at an actual one before ; and it 
 seemed curious to her to be playing the 
 hostess to a woman so much her elder, and 
 evidently no tyro in the ways of the 
 world. 
 
 "A fire is all the more pleasant to me 
 from its being often the only companion I 
 have," the widow continued. " When Ber- 
 tie is away I am very lonely sometimes."
 
 TEIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 271 
 
 "The Lodge will be dull for you iii the 
 winter, I am afraid." 
 
 " I do not think I shall find it so. I have 
 one or two good friends in the neighbour- 
 hood, and that is better than a host of mere 
 acquaintances. I am very fond of the 
 Kingdoms." 
 
 Bessie in her own mind wondered ivhich 
 of the family was honoured by the widow's 
 preference ; for she knew that Mrs. Duberry 
 had expressed herself as being intensely 
 bored by the excellent Mrs. Kingdom, with 
 her homely tastes, and plain matter-of-fact 
 ways. With the worthy Rector she had 
 even less in common, and Bessie had hither- 
 to believed that the dislike which Remnald 
 
 a 
 
 openly professed for the " rare humbug," as 
 he called her, was heartily reciprocated in 
 that quarter. She made no reply to a re- 
 mark which she did not believe to be 
 genuine, and the widow, construing her 
 silence aright, said, 
 
 " You think I am only saying so to please 
 you, perhaps, because you have heard me 
 laugh at some of their odd ways ; and you
 
 272 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 
 
 must admit that they are odd. But I assure 
 you that I love and respect the dear old 
 souls with all my heart. As to Reggie — 
 dear fellow ! — I must not tell you what I 
 think of him. If I say worthy of the prize 
 I have won, shall I be going too far?" 
 
 The words were softly insinuating, and 
 the strong warm white hand was laid upon 
 Bessie's arm, inspiring her unconsciously 
 with a feeling of protection, sympathy, 
 strength. Certainly Mrs. Duberry could be 
 very fascinating when she chose. She could 
 make people confide in her against their own 
 convictions, for no one but her own son had 
 ever implicitly believed in her herself. 
 
 As there is a sort of fascination inherent 
 in some natures for testing the strength of 
 dangerous ice. for climbing impossible heights, 
 and descending unfathomable depths, so 
 there is a sort of glamour to which the 
 moral nature is liable for testing even to its 
 fatal cost the truth of the ungenuine and the 
 false. 
 
 Bessie was under this spell, and before 
 she knew w^here she was she had said words
 
 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 273 
 
 which she would have given worlds to re- 
 call. She had confessed to a tacit under- 
 standing, which had taken the place of an 
 acknowledged engagement, between herself 
 and Reginald Kingdom. She was recalled 
 to her senses by the entrance of the men 
 from the dining-room. A very slight cir- 
 cumstance serves to dispel an illusion of the 
 sort, and Bessie was entirely disenchanted 
 when she saw the same spells woven to en- 
 snare another as those to which she had 
 fallen so easy a prey herself. She in her 
 own heart condemned severely the very 
 same weakness in her father which she herself 
 had experienced and given way to but a short 
 half-hour before. 
 
 Mrs. Duberry always studied the weak 
 points in every nature over which she in- 
 tended to cast her spells, and the worthy 
 Squire had, in common with other members 
 of his family, many such. He was open to 
 flattery, and his head could only be reached 
 through his heart; a peculiarity which 
 makes a man or a woman a child till their 
 dying day. Women of the world, women 
 
 VOL. I. T
 
 274 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 
 
 like Mrs. Duberry, know well how to im- 
 prove such a peculiarity. She looked over 
 her partner's hand, and played it as well as 
 her own, to her great advantage. 
 
 " Bessie, let us have some music," said 
 the Squire cheerily. " I have not heard 
 you sing for an age." 
 
 " What will you have, papa ?" 
 
 " Anything in the world, my dear, that is 
 not of a doleful Psalm-singing kind. I like 
 cheery music best, as you know." 
 
 " Perhaps Mrs. Duberry will play some- 
 thing first, or sing?" Bessie mischievously 
 remarked, for she perceived that the widow 
 was, as Reginald would have expressed it, 
 " going in " for a confidential tete-a-tete with 
 her father, and that it was indifferent to him 
 what she sang or played, if her music only 
 afforded him an opportunity for flirting with 
 the handsome widow for his own amuse- 
 ment. 
 
 " Indeed, I assure you I never play now 
 — or sing a note. Bertie will tell you the 
 same." 
 
 As Mrs. Duberry spoke she looked to-
 
 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 275 
 
 wards her son, and happened to catch his 
 eye fixed upon her face with an expression 
 of grave and puzzled inquiry — an expression 
 which she did not approve. The scales were 
 falling from his eyes, and he was beginning 
 to read his mother's character aright. I am 
 afraid that the widow wished her son any- 
 where but at her side, where he pertinaci- 
 ously kept his place that evening. Her 
 mental verdict upon his interference ran 
 something in this fashion — '' What a fool he 
 is ! — and how blind to his own interests ! 
 Heaven knows " 
 
 "Bertie can take a capital second, Miss* 
 Marchmont, if you require his services," she 
 observed aloud, as Bessie, after singing song 
 after song at her father's request, said laugh- 
 ingly — " It is too bad that no one else will 
 sing. Who will take a second to one of 
 Moore's Irish melodies ? I have them 
 all." 
 
 " Can you take a second to ^ Go where 
 glory waits thee?'" Bessie asked, turning 
 her fine eyes on the young man's face. " I 
 can sing the first, if you will try it." 
 
 t2
 
 276 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 
 
 It was a temptation, and Bertie succumbed. 
 He had never seen any one whom he had 
 admired so much — whom he could have 
 loved so deeply as Bessie Marchmont. The 
 conviction flashed across his soul as their 
 voices melted into harmony, the rich bari- 
 tone and the mellow soprano ; and, true as 
 steel, he determined not to expose himself 
 again to so strong a temptation. 
 
 "Thank you," he said quietly, as the notes 
 died away; and no one would have detected 
 in the inflection of his voice the keen plea- 
 sure which the performance had given him ; 
 or that it was the source of a tear, which he 
 dashed away from his honest eyes, as he 
 walked home to the Lodge in the moonlight 
 soon after, with the words spoken aloud in 
 the solitude, 
 
 " I never was a fellow for much luck."
 
 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 277 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 " You'U be secret, Thomas ?" 
 " As a coach horse." 
 
 MATTERS went on pretty mucli in the 
 way I have described for some weeks 
 after young Kingdom had joined his regi- 
 ment, which was quartered in Ireland. A 
 change, however, had come over Bessie. 
 She was quieter than of old, sometimes ab- 
 sent, always grave; she had "put away 
 childish things." 
 
 Her father had resumed his affectionate 
 manner towards her, as far as outward de- 
 monstration went, but a certain reserve had 
 been established, as an invisible, impalpable 
 barrier, which made the father and daughter 
 literally "strangers yet." The widow still 
 maintained her dangerous influence, and the
 
 278 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 
 
 Lodge had gradually become the almost 
 daily object of the Squire's afternoon ride. 
 
 Bessie very seldom accompanied him on 
 these occasions. The poor child was fatu- 
 ously blind to the natural result of these 
 tete-a-tete afternoons spent in the society of a 
 handsome woman, perfectly aware of her 
 own power, and determined, for the urgent 
 reasons with which the reader has been 
 made acquainted, to gain her point. 
 
 The Colonel had one day said to Bessie, 
 "You should ride with your father, child, 
 as you used to do. I see him pass the gate 
 most days on his grey cob alone, and I had 
 rather a great deal see you on Meg by his 
 side." 
 
 " He only goes to Bickleigh, and it bores 
 me to go there every day. You don't think 
 I neglect papa, do you ?" 
 
 " I won't say that. But I do not want 
 the widow to gain an undue-influence over 
 your father. She is a clever woman in her 
 way." 
 
 " Well, she amuses him ; and I have not 
 the knack of it always."
 
 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 279 
 
 "You should try. I should like to see 
 you riding and driving about with him every- 
 where. Doing as you used to do until " 
 
 "Until this miserable state of things sprang 
 up between us," Bessie said, concluding the 
 sentence for him. " You do not know how 
 wretched it makes me feel, Uncle Rex. It 
 seems so unkind of papa to be glad because 
 I am wretched — and yet I cannot help feel- 
 ing that such is the case." 
 
 The Colonel noticed, not without pain, 
 that the tears stood in Bessie's eyes as she 
 spoke. He could well understand how her 
 father s open satisfaction and exuberant ' 
 spirits, caused by a state of affairs so little iu 
 accordance with her own wishes, must jar 
 upon her feelings ; and he also well knew 
 what it must cost her, to preserve that equa- 
 nimity and outward cheerfulness of tem- 
 per, which it was his nature to exact from 
 those about him — his strongest prejudices 
 being called into play by the fact of any of 
 his belongings indulging ip what he would 
 quizzingly designate "the dumps." 
 
 The great charm that the widow possess-
 
 280 TEIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 
 
 ed for him was that she was always ready 
 to amuse or to be amused. 
 
 *' So thoroughly good-natured !" was his 
 verdict upon her, as he rode slowly home 
 on the very afternoon when the conversa- 
 tion I have recorded took place. A happy 
 delusion for the worthy Squire, for his fate 
 had been sealed only an hour before. He 
 had proposed, and Mrs. Duberry had pro- 
 mised to become mistress of Marchmont, at 
 the same moment that the Colonel was en- 
 deavouring to make Bessie aware of the ex- 
 pediency of a sharper look-out in that quar- 
 ter. The die had been cast — the future of 
 a family changed, the seed of discord sown, 
 before Bessie had walked slowly home, think- 
 ing of her young soldier, and of what the 
 Colonel had said with regard to the grow- 
 ing estrangement between herself and her 
 father. 
 
 Mindful of his advice in this instance, as, 
 indeed, she was in most when he volunteer- 
 ed it, she met her father at the hall door as 
 he dismounted, and as the grey cob was led 
 away, and they entered the house together,
 
 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 281 
 
 she placed her hand affectionately on his 
 shoulder, and said, 
 
 " Why did you not ask me to ride with 
 you, papa ? I have been waiting for an in- 
 vitation ever so long." 
 
 "No — have you, my love?" the Squire 
 answered absently. 
 
 He had been wondering all the way home 
 how Bessie would take the advent of a step- 
 mother, and a new mistress at Marchmont, 
 and had tried to soothe any remorseful 
 feeling in his own breast by the argument — 
 " If it had not been for that confounded 
 love affair between her and young King-* 
 dom, all this might never have happened." 
 He could not, or would not, see that the 
 " confounded love affair " between the two 
 young people was a far less ridiculous, and 
 a much more natural one, than that which 
 he had himself been carrying on, and which 
 he intended carrying out, with the dashing 
 widow. 
 
 That lady herself had been almost taken 
 by surprise at the suddenness of the turn 
 which had brought her to the goal so long
 
 282 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 
 
 and so ardently desired. But the Squire 
 had long determined upon the step which 
 he had just taken, and only awaited a fa- 
 vourable opportunity. If Bessie had ac- 
 companied him that afternoon, it would 
 only have deferred the mischief, for the 
 Squire was not one to be turned from his 
 point in any matter in which either his in- 
 clinations or his prejudices were concerned. 
 He intended to put off the evil hour for dis- 
 closing to his daughter his future plans until 
 a more convenient season ; but there were 
 others concerned who were not equally dis- 
 posed for silence. Mrs. Rigors, having ob- 
 tained the secret as a secret from her mis- 
 tress, stepped down to the village without a 
 moment's loss of time, and mentioned the 
 circumstance in strict confidence^ of course, to 
 some of the most notorious gossips it con- 
 tained. 
 
 The under housemaid from the Hall who 
 had slipped down to the shop for a yard or 
 two of ribbon, with which to deck her pretty 
 person on the following Sunday, heard it 
 second-hand from the lad who served her,
 
 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 283 
 
 who announced it in the following fashion : 
 
 " So there's to be a wedding at March- 
 mont, after all, Miss Susan ?" 
 
 " Not that 1 know anything of, I can tell 
 you," answered the offended beauty, tossing 
 her head, evidently under the impression 
 that certain tender passages and Sunday 
 afternoon walks with the new footman at 
 the Hall, were anything but remotely allud- 
 ed to in the above remark. And she added 
 a recommendation to the youth in question 
 that he should in future confine himself to 
 the contemplation of affairs more immedi- 
 ately under his own supervision, concluding* 
 with the observation that '' it was like his 
 imperence, that it was !" 
 
 '' Well, you need not take a fellow up so, 
 Miss Susan. It was not your wedding I was 
 thinking of. There's greater doings than 
 that going on hereabouts, I reckon. Why, 
 the Squire and the widow are going to get 
 married, after all." 
 
 " Laws ! you don't say so, Tom ?" ex- 
 claimed Susan, surprised out of her dignity ; 
 " and whatever will Miss Marchmont say to
 
 284 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 
 
 it, I wonder ? Well, it's what Mrs. Minch- 
 ing said all along it would come to ; — and 
 you are quite sure it's true, Tom ?" 
 
 " That old cat Rigors told mother so not 
 an hour ago ; and she had it from her mis- 
 tress herself. She held her head pretty 
 high, I can tell you. Miss Susan." 
 
 " I'll be bound she did that, Tom. Well, 
 put me up that bit of ribbon — quick man 
 alive! I should like to be first with the 
 news. There'll be a good many ^ this day 
 months,' when it gets known up there, I pro- 
 mise you." 
 
 " And more weddings than one, perhaps," 
 put in Tom, mischievously, when pretty 
 Susan left the shop hurriedly, after pocket- 
 ing the yard of cherry-coloured ribbon, 
 which was to make her irresistible on the 
 following Sunday. 
 
 She arrived breathless in the servants' 
 hall, as the servants were seated at tea, and 
 it was some little time before she was suffi- 
 ciently recovered to gasp out, "What do 
 you think is up now ? — master's going to be 
 married to the widow at Bickleigh; and
 
 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 285 
 
 Mrs. Rigors has been down the town, giving 
 herself such airs !" 
 
 "Now didn't I tell you all along that 
 that would be the end of it?" said the 
 upper housemaid, who was balancing her 
 spoon on the edge of the tea-cup, and try- 
 ing to look as if the human heart in all its 
 phases had been her only study from her 
 youth up. 
 
 "And what will * Madam ' say to it all?" 
 was chorused round the table, when the 
 news had been thoroughly circulated, can- 
 vassed, and digested. " Madam " being the 
 nick-name by which Mrs. Minching, the 
 housekeeper, was known to the denizens of 
 the servants' hall. 
 
 "I think I'll go and tell them in the 
 housekeeper's room. You're sure it's true, 
 Susan ?" 
 
 " True as Gospel, Charlotte. Tom had it 
 from his mother, and she had it direct from 
 Mrs. Rigors herself — she and her missis are 
 just a pair of them — eugh !" 
 
 It was evident that the reign of the future 
 and second wife of Mr. Marchmont was not
 
 286 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 
 
 looked forward to with any pleasurable ex- 
 pectations by his present household ; and 
 the dismay which reigned paramount in the 
 housekeeper's room at Charlotte's announce- 
 ment was far greater than that which had 
 stirred the pulses of the servants' hall. 
 
 "Well, this is a pretty kettle of fish, 
 ma'am," said Mr. Serschal, the butler, ap- 
 pealing to the stately-looking housekeeper, 
 who presided at the tea-table with much 
 state and dignity. 
 
 " It's only what I expected all along, Mr. 
 Serschal," replied the lady, putting another 
 spoonful of tea into the pot as she spoke ; 
 " I'm sorry for our young lady, to be ousted 
 from her rightful place at the head of her 
 pa's table by such rubbish as her. / know 
 a lady when I see one — leastways, I ought, 
 having lived in the first of families for thirty 
 years ; and Mrs. Jewberry's not one — not if 
 I know chalk from cheese." 
 
 "She's an artful one — that's what she is," 
 put in Mr. Serschal, seeing that he was ex- 
 pected to say something. " I won't say that 
 she's not a fine woman to look at either," he
 
 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 287 
 
 went on, for Mr. Serschal had a soft place 
 in his heart, and the widow had always been 
 especially civil to him ; " but I wish she'd 
 never come here to put our young lady out 
 of her own place." 
 
 " It'll be the death of her a'most," said 
 Lucy, the lady's-maid, and particular pro- 
 tegee of Mrs. Minching s, whose niece indeed 
 she was. " I wonder if her papa has told 
 her?" 
 
 "She's been thinking too much of her 
 own sweetheart to notice much of what has 
 been going on elsewhere — that is where the 
 mischief has been, I take it," observed Mi\ 
 Serschal, sententiously. 
 
 Shortly after Miss Marchmont's bell rang 
 to summon Lucy to assist at the evening 
 toilette. Dinner at Marchmont was always 
 served at seven precisely, and Bessie had 
 spent the interval between her return from 
 her walk and the ringing of the dressing- 
 bell in playing soft dreamy music to herself 
 in the drawing-room, thinking of Reggie, 
 and little aware what a momentous topic 
 was under discussion under the very roof of
 
 288 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 
 
 her father's house — a subject which would 
 affect the happiness of her future life, for 
 Bessie's was not a temperament to brook a 
 rival in a sphere in which she had reigned 
 paramount so long. A blow, and a cruel 
 one, was about to fall on her unconscious 
 head, but she played on unawares, until the 
 dressing-bell awoke her from her reverie. 
 The Squire was fidgety, and evidently per- 
 turbed during dinner ; but then he was often 
 fidgety and perturbed, and Bessie, in the 
 innocence of her heart, put down the facts 
 in her own mind to the score of a failure 
 in a particular dish of which he was fond. 
 
 ** I can't imagine what the cook can have 
 been thinking of," she said, merely by way 
 of appearing interested in a subject on which 
 her father laid so much stress. 
 
 "Thinking of! deuce take her! — what 
 has she to think of but her own business, I 
 should like to know ? It's very evident that 
 there must be a radical change somewhere. 
 I will not be poisoned by such trash as this. 
 Remove it at once, sir." 
 
 This command was addressed to the new
 
 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 289 
 
 footman, who confided to Mr. Serschal, as 
 he carried oif the offending dish, that he 
 had never been spoken to in that way in his 
 life before, and that he was not going to put 
 *'up with anyone's tantrums, either in that 
 house or another, not he." 
 
 "It's only his way — his bark is worse 
 than his bite. He's got gout flying about 
 him, that's all," was Mr. Serschal's reply to 
 this remark. 
 
 But poor Bessie, whose nervous system 
 had undergone many shocks of late, felt 
 ready to cry. It was not her fault that the 
 cook had failed in the Squire's favourite dish, • 
 and she always dreaded his outbursts of 
 temper before the servants waiting at table. 
 
 " Have some of this vol au verity papa. It 
 is excellent I assure you. Send me your 
 plate, and let me help you." 
 
 ^^ No, I thank you. I will have a slice of 
 mutton — it is the safest thing to try. Mrs. 
 What's-her-name's attempts at made dishes 
 are the greatest failures I have seen for some 
 time." 
 
 The Squire cut himself a slice out of the 
 
 VOL. I. U
 
 290 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 
 
 leg of four-year-old mutton as lie spoke, and 
 to Bessie's dismay, and the utter collapse of 
 Mr. Serschal, who was enduring the pangs 
 of martyrdom in holding a hot plate to 
 receive the delicate morsel, that slice was a 
 little underdone. It was a fatal offence, and 
 ridiculous as it may appear when written, 
 Bessie's cheek paled at the torrent of invec- 
 tive which flowed from the Squire's almost 
 foaming lips, as he ended his harangue 
 with, 
 
 "Take it to the cook, sir, with my com- 
 pliments, and tell her to leave my house. I 
 don't care where she goes, or what becomes 
 of her — or with the whole pack of you. I 
 beg that you will see my orders carried out, 
 Bessie ; that woman leaves my service to- 
 morrow. It's time there was an end to all 
 this," he muttered, as his daughter gently 
 remonstrated, and tried to soothe the ire of 
 her infuriated parent. " How you can take 
 the woman's part, my dear, I am at a loss to 
 imagine. If you don't Know how a dinner 
 ought to be sent up with common decency, 
 it's quite time you should learn."
 
 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 291 
 
 " Please don't be cross, papa. I will 
 speak to Mrs. Minching about it in the morn- 
 ing ; but it is no use making a fuss now." 
 
 " That's not my idea of managing a house- 
 hold — passing over the most glaring faults 
 to avoid what women call making a fuss. 
 You would have me, I suppose, eat con- 
 tentedly any poison they choose to send up? 
 No, there must be a change made some- 
 where, and the sooner the better, as far as- 
 I can see." 
 
 Bessie made no reply — her lip was quiver- 
 ing, and she felt what maids call terribly 
 upset ; all about a slice of mutton a trifle 
 underdone. But on trifles depend, in most 
 families, the comfort of the household, and 
 the Squire allowed trifles to affect him as 
 those only do on whom life sits lightly, and 
 who have never experienced the weight of 
 real cares. 
 
 The peculiarity attending such tempera- 
 ments is that they never realize the fact that 
 the trifle, whatever it is, for the time being, 
 can possibly affect another in the same pro- 
 portion that it does themselves. Such a 
 
 u2
 
 292 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 
 
 man or woman — for the peculiarity of which 
 I speak is not confined to either sex — will 
 spoil the pleasure and comfort of a whole 
 party, because he or she is exposed to some 
 trifling inconvenience which bears equally 
 upon all concerned, but which is magnified 
 a thousand times by the ill-temper and irri- 
 tability it occasions to one. 
 
 It is bad enough to be exposed to the 
 glare of a sun which beats in fierce metallic 
 rays on your defenceless head at a review or 
 a horse-race, to crane one's neck round the 
 ingenious private pillory business of a side- 
 box at the opera, to obtain a sight of the 
 new prima donna about which the town is 
 raving, or to be squeezed into a mummy in 
 the endeavour to get a glimpse of a " Mil- 
 lais " in the Royal Academy, without being 
 condemned to hear the grumblings of a 
 companion in misfortune, expatiating upon 
 his or her private miseries on the occasion 
 so trying to all. The tax upon your temper, 
 your comfort, your convenience being at the 
 same time totally ignored, or perhaps aggra- 
 vated by the additional pleasantry of an im-
 
 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 293 
 
 plied taunt in your direction, under cover of 
 remarks like the following : 
 
 " I suppose there is some great fun in 
 this sort of thing, only I confess / can't see 
 it," &c., &c. 
 
 I once heard it remarked by a shrewd 
 observer of the pettinesses of human nature 
 in the picture-gallery alluded to — " there is 
 always one member of a family who retains 
 the " catalogue " in his or her hand, while 
 the others are expected to be content with 
 looking over, if they stand in any particular 
 need of information. The holder of the 
 catalogue is the esprit fort of the family, as* 
 an invariable rule." In cases in which I 
 have carried the investigation au fond^ it has 
 certainly proved so, and so it is in life. The 
 catalogue-holder, indeed, not only manages 
 to hold his own, but generally succeeds in 
 impressing his belongings with the idea that 
 he is actually bestowing a favour by occa- 
 sionally turning to " No. 227, the portrait 
 of a lady," or another, as the case may be ; 
 and the individual so obliged generally ap- 
 pears fully conscious of the condescension of
 
 294 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 
 
 the act, and imparts the mforraation thus 
 obtained to the next in rotation with an air 
 of importance edifying to behold. 
 
 Mr. Marchmont's was a trying temper to 
 deal with, and his daughter felt how utterly 
 hopeless it was to endeavour to smooth any 
 little stumbling-blocks which might -conduce 
 to an outburst, because, as Mrs. Serschal 
 philosophically observed on such occasions, 
 *' if it did not take him in one way, it would 
 in another." It was from within, and not 
 from without, that the irritation arose. 
 
 The aspect of things did not improve in 
 the drawing-room after dinner. His daugh- 
 ter's very presence there seemed to be a 
 mute reproach to him, and she had been so 
 gentle and quiet lately (he would not admit 
 to himself the fact that she was depressed), 
 and so affectionate to him — how was he to 
 break the news, which was beginning to 
 weigh more heavily in his own bosom than 
 was altogether promising for the happiness 
 of his future bride ? 
 
 " I hope I have not made a fool of my- 
 self," was the stand-point from which he
 
 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 295 
 
 was mentally reviewing his own position, and 
 was the root of all the bitterness which had 
 fallen upon the head of the unlucky cook. 
 "What! going to bed already?" he fretfully 
 demanded of his daughter, as she rose, put 
 away her work, and lighted a candle before 
 wishing her father " good night " — a cere- 
 mony always rather dreaded by those- about 
 to undergo it when the Squire was in " a 
 black mood." 
 
 "I am rather tired, papa, but I can stay 
 longer if you wish it," was the dutiful reply, 
 for the Colonel's advice had not been with- 
 out its effect, and Bessie's own conscience 
 told her that she had not been much of a 
 companion to her father since Reginald had 
 come between them, and she determined to 
 devote herself more to his amusement for 
 the future — that future which had slipped 
 out of her hands. 
 
 " I do not wish anyone to inconvenience 
 themselves for me," was the bitter reply, as 
 the Squire's handsome lip curled, and as he 
 submitted to rather than returned Bessie's 
 kiss, and then settled himself with the Times
 
 296 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 
 
 in an arm-chair by the fire, as though to 
 shut her out from all farther chance of at- 
 tention or caress. 
 
 There is nothing that a man dreads so 
 much as the bustle and confusion attending 
 a wedding-day, when he himself is to be the 
 principal actor in the scene ; and with a 
 hazy recollection of having committed him- 
 self so far as to say to Mrs. Duberry, " Let 
 it be soon," the Squire felt as one feels when 
 the inevitable is marching down on him, in- 
 voked by some rash speech or act of his 
 own, which is stereotyped in the annals of 
 the past. 
 
 Bessie went to her room unconscious of 
 the bitter blow in store for her, and was 
 soon in a sweet, dreamless slumber, her 
 long hair lying in dark rich masses on the 
 pillow, and her lips a little open, as though 
 even in sleep they could not close their por- 
 tals on the dear name so lately breathed.
 
 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 297 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 " The first bringer of unwelcome news 
 Hath but a losing ofl&ce." 
 
 MRS. RIGORS was in her glory. The 
 accomplishnient of her hopes was in 
 her hand. 
 
 Mrs. Duberry's feeling of triumph and 
 satisfaction at the result of her skilful man- 
 (Euvrings would have been unmixed if the 
 thought of those honest brown eyes of Ber- 
 tie's, fixed upon her in grave reproach, had 
 not troubled her at times, like an uncomfort- 
 able vision seen in sleep. She had twice 
 taken up her pen, and twice laid it down 
 again, before she could summon up resolu- 
 tion to tell him that the deed was done, and 
 that further opposition or argument would 
 be in vain. 
 
 There was a certain little packet in the
 
 298 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 
 
 same desk at whicli she was seated, that had 
 hitherto lain with a deadly weight on her 
 soul. She now took it in her hand, as she 
 might have taken a poisonous reptile whose 
 fangs she had seen extracted an hour be- 
 fore. 
 
 " They will he willing enough to let them 
 wait now^' she said aloud, as she ran her 
 fingers almost lovingly through the file of 
 carefully-labelled bills; and as she jotted 
 down the totals on a sheet of paper on which 
 she had begun a letter to Bertie, she mut- 
 tered, " It was not a day too soon." 
 
 " I will go to town at once. Rigors," she 
 said as the woman answered the summons of 
 her bell, with a very different expression of 
 countenance from that which she had worn 
 for the last few weeks ; " can you lend me 
 five pounds for the journey ?" 
 
 " I had rather see it in black and white 
 first," was the cautious reply of Mrs. Rigors 
 to this home question ; " something that 
 would hold good in case of an action for 
 breach of promise, and to satisfy the trades- 
 people too."
 
 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 299 
 
 At this moment the back-door bell rang 
 with a peal that echoed through the house, 
 and a very dirty maid-of-all-work, not at all 
 in keeping with the elegance of the dainty 
 boudoir into which she penetrated, held out 
 a note at arm's length, protected by a corner 
 of her dirty apron from contact with her 
 dirtier finger and thumb. 
 
 "From the Hall, please, marm," she said; 
 "there's no answer." 
 
 Mrs. Duberry's cheek grew rather pale, 
 and Mrs. Rigors assumed an air of interested 
 curiosity. She never offered to leave the 
 room to afford her mistress the opportunity 
 of perusing her love-letter alone. 
 
 The note contained but a few lines — a re- 
 quest from Mr. March mont that the engage- 
 ment should be kept secret for the next 
 month or two. "It will," so the Squire 
 concluded, " be more expedient on many 
 accounts; and I rely upon your own delicacy 
 of feeling to forward my views in this mat- 
 ter. Until the time arrives when I can 
 claim you as my own, the less the affair gets 
 talked about the better. Bessie is at present
 
 800 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 
 
 in perfect ignorance of our plans for the 
 future. 
 
 ^' I am ever, dearest Harriet, 
 " Yours devotedly, 
 
 " Geoffrey Marchmont." 
 
 Not a very ardent love epistle after all ; 
 and a death-blow to the widow's hopes of 
 immediate satisfaction for the pertinacious 
 tradespeople, who could only be silenced by 
 some decided proof that the means of pay- 
 ment would shortly be within her grasp. 
 
 "Well," said Mrs. Rigors, to whom the 
 letter had been handed, " what's to be done 
 now ? We can't get credit here any longer, 
 that's very certain. Unless they have the 
 news on good authority, that I have taken 
 the liberty of putting about on my own, they 
 won't wait another day." 
 
 " That tiresome girl's at the bottom of it, 
 I am sure," Mrs. Duberry replied pettishly 
 (the mask had been thrown aside in her con- 
 fidential communications with Mrs. Rigors) ; 
 " the Squire has not the moral courage to 
 tell her the truth ; and she, pining to death
 
 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 301 
 
 for young Kingdom, sees nothing that any- 
 one with a grain of common sense would 
 have seen months ago. What had I better 
 do?" 
 
 Another ring at the back-door bell, and a 
 second intercession of the ungainly presence 
 of the maid-of-all-work with "Please, marm, 
 the grocer's young man have called for the 
 book ; and please he says he is to wait for 
 an answer." 
 
 " How dare you come up here with im- 
 pertinent messages from the grocer's young 
 man, or any other ?" asked Mrs. Rigors of 
 the terrified girl. " Tell him to go about 
 his business at once." 
 
 " Stop, Rigors, stop, that won't do yet^'' 
 observed the widow, emphatically. "Tell 
 the young man civilly that I will call and 
 settle the book in a day or two. You had 
 better go yourself. Rigors," she added ; " you 
 might give them a hint of the state of affairs, 
 and keep them quiet for a little ; it can at 
 all events do no harm, and it might do 
 good." 
 
 This is a specimen of the " delicacy " of
 
 302 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 
 
 feeling upon which the worthy Squire had 
 relied. Nothing would have shocked him 
 more than the mean and dishonourable 
 shifts to which the lady of his love had 
 recourse. It was essential, and this she 
 knew, to keep up appearances until the end 
 with a man whose boast it was that he did 
 not owe a shilling in the world, and whose 
 whole nature would have rebelled at the 
 idea of a woman's condescending to cozen 
 her tradespeople by means of his honour- 
 able name. As it was, he was in no lover- 
 like frame of mind when he awoke to the 
 conviction that he had placed his future 
 happiness in the keeping of another. He 
 was very much in the position of the 
 Frenchman who, upon being congratulated 
 upon the approaching termination of a long 
 engagement, replied with the national de- 
 precatory shrug, " C'est bien vrai, mon ami, 
 mais dans ce temps Ik, comment passerait on 
 les soirs?" 
 
 Honourable, however, to the back-bone, 
 he knew that there could be no drawing 
 back; and with a heavy sigh he began to
 
 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 303 
 
 turn over in his mind the best way of break- 
 ing the news to Bessie. 
 
 " I wonder how she will take it ?" he 
 asked himself doubtfully, as he noticed her 
 sad face at breakfast ; and then he hit upon 
 the happy idea of indefinite procrastination 
 and secresy to be observed for a space. 
 Upon this determination he penned the note 
 which had caused some consternation at the 
 Lodge ; but as far as secresy went, he might 
 have spared himself any anxiety. 
 
 The footman grinned who received the 
 billet from the hand of Mr. Serschal, the 
 butler ; the groom grinned still more broadly * 
 as he received his orders to take it at once 
 to the Lodge ; and Lucy had nearly let out 
 the secret to her mistress by extraordinary 
 hints and inuendoes, which Bessie believed 
 to have some remote reference to herself 
 and Reginald Kingdom, which with natural 
 displeasure she at once suppressed. 
 
 " You had better finish with my hair, 
 Lucy," she had observed coldly ; '* I do not 
 wish to have the gossip of the servants' hall 
 repeated to me."
 
 304 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 
 
 Thus it happened, as it often does, that 
 the one most concerned in the rash step 
 that her own father was about to make, was 
 the only person entirely ignorant in the 
 matter ; or rather the only one, with the 
 exception of Colonel le Garde, who knew 
 nothing of the doings at Marchmont, but 
 from Bessie herself; and he was in hopes 
 that he should see her ride by with her 
 father on her pony Meg ; for Bessie gene- 
 rally flattered him in the most delicate way 
 of administering flattery — namely, by taking 
 his advice. 
 
 To that young lady's extreme surprise, 
 however, the Squire threw cold water upon 
 the proposal which she made at breakfast 
 to ride with him round the Farm that 
 afternoon, if he wished it. This was in- 
 tended on her part as a most conciliatory 
 and propiatory offer, for there was nothing 
 in a general way which she was more apt to 
 object to as one of those home rides " round 
 the farm." 
 
 The Squire was fond, as country gentle- 
 men are, of personally superintending the
 
 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 305 
 
 improvements on his farms and estates — 
 draining being one of his particular hobbies. 
 This involved a good deal of standing about, 
 and v^as particularly trying to the temper of 
 mettlesome Meg, who tossed her dainty nose 
 in supreme contempt for agriculture in all 
 its branches, that of draining and ditching in 
 particular. In the happy old days it had 
 been a great joke — (what trifles we do 
 make stand for jokes in happy days !) — 
 between Bessie and her father ; and she 
 used openly to tax him with his indifference 
 to her discomfort, when, as she laughingly 
 affirmed, her nose grew red and her hands 
 purple, in the bleakest corner of Blackstone 
 Common, while he superintended the drain- 
 ing of that und electable land. 
 
 " I think it will be too cold for you to- 
 day, ray love," he had replied, not without 
 a pang at his heart-strings as he thought of 
 her as the constant little companion of old, 
 and remembered that he had then cared for 
 no other, and for no better one. 
 
 " It is cold, certainly, for standing about ; 
 and if you don't want me, papa, I will go to 
 
 VOL. I. X
 
 306 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 
 
 the Rectory and spend the morning with 
 Mrs. Kingdom." 
 
 If this was intended as a return shaft for 
 the apparent indifference of the Squire to 
 the pleasure of her companionship, it had 
 its effect ; the paternal brow became cloud- 
 ed at once. 
 
 ^' As you like, my dear," was the reply. 
 " I do not see the necessity." 
 
 " No actual necessity, but it will help to 
 pass away the time." 
 
 " Does it hang so heavily on your hands, 
 Miss Marchmont ?" 
 
 "There was a cold and cutting irony 
 about this last speech, which pricked Bessie's 
 pride to the quick. 
 
 " It does sometimes, papa," she answered, 
 turning her face from him as she spoke, al- 
 though, had she obeyed the first impulse of 
 her heart, she would have thrown herself 
 into his arms, and prayed for forgiveness in 
 aught wherein she had offended. Had he 
 softened towards her, even in a single inflec- 
 tion of his voice, she might have obeyed 
 this impulse without hesitation ; but her
 
 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 307 
 
 own high spirit rebelled against what she 
 considered a gross injustice, so she only 
 turned her face away from him, a move- 
 ment which he on his part observed, and 
 which he was not slow to resent. 
 
 Meantime the news of which she was so 
 happily at present unconscious had reached 
 the Rectory in the following shape : 
 
 Mrs. Kingdom, always a notable house- 
 wife, was in the act of half filling the tea- 
 pot with boiling water, only to be poured 
 out again, previous to putting in the tea, 
 when the tidy, white-aproned Betty inform- 
 ed her mistress that the intended marriage' 
 of the Squire with the widow at Beckleigh 
 was now no secret up at the Hall. 
 
 " It's what we've said all along, ma'am," 
 was the concluding remark ; but so far had 
 good Mrs. Kingdom been from expecting 
 such an event, that she became half para- 
 lyzed from the effects of the surprise the 
 announcement had caused her, and forget- 
 ting what she was about, for perhaps the 
 first time in her life when that occupation 
 was of a domestic nature, she let the water 
 
 X 2
 
 308 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 
 
 run until it ran over and down upon the 
 floor, scalding the tail of the Rector's fa- 
 vourite cat, and causing the unlucky animal 
 to utter a series of feline lamentations of the 
 most distressing kind. 
 
 " Poor pussy !" the good lady repeated, 
 in soothing accents ; but " poor pnssy " de- 
 clined her well-meant condolences, and dis- 
 appeared like a harlequin out of the open 
 door. In her hasty exit she cannoned 
 against the Rector, who was crossing the 
 passage from his study arrayed in scholarly 
 dishabille of slippers and flowing dressing- 
 gown, in which costume he invariably par- 
 took of the morning meal. 
 
 " What is the matter with Evelina, my 
 dear ?" was his anxious inquiry. 
 
 The learned Rector had once read a 
 novel, which happened to have been Miss 
 Burney's far-famed " Evelina " — hence the 
 name of his tabby favourite, whom he de- 
 signated, in common with the rest of her 
 tribe, " the scholar's friend." 
 
 '' I am so sorry — it was the merest acci- 
 dent. I fear pussy's tail is slightly scalded,
 
 TKIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 309 
 
 but I was so taken aback by what Betty has 
 this moment told me, that it's a mercy it 
 wasn't worse." 
 
 "What wasn't worse, my dear? — Eve- 
 lina's tail ?" 
 
 "Well, her tail, or anything else that 
 happened to be in the way. Only fancy, 
 the Squire is going to marry Mrs. Duberry, 
 after all." 
 
 "I am very sorry to hear it," was the 
 quiet reply — " very sorry, at least, to hear 
 a report to that effect — more sorry if it 
 should prove to be true." 
 
 " I fear it is only too true. The news^ 
 came from the Hall." 
 
 " I shall regret it the more as the ac- 
 quaintance was formed in this house ; and I 
 fear it will not conduce to the happiness of 
 our dear young friend." 
 
 Bessie had managed to wind herself some- 
 what closely of late round the hearts of the 
 worthy couple. She was like a sunbeam in 
 the house, they said, for they more than 
 guessed at the secret which lay hidden in 
 her heart, and she was doubly precious to
 
 310 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 
 
 them for the sake of their boy, Regmald 
 being an idolized son. 
 
 " Poor dear child ! she never had the least 
 suspicion of anything of the kind. I have 
 hinted at it many's the time, but none are 
 so blind as those who won't see." 
 
 " A new version of an old proverb, my 
 dear. But how did you hear of this affair ? 
 It is possible that you might have been mis- 
 informed.'^ 
 
 ^' No, I fear not ; it came straight from 
 the Hall. The servants heard it up there 
 half an hour after it took place." 
 
 " What took place ? You don't mean to 
 say the ceremony has been performed?" the 
 Rector inquired aghast, for he was very 
 punctilious about the due observances of 
 etiquette in such matters. 
 
 " No, no, my dear, not the ceremony, the 
 proposal. The Squire proposed in the after- 
 noon, and before five o'clock it was known 
 in the village and up at the Hall ; and it 
 was all that Mrs. Rigors's doing, putting it 
 about so soon, they tell me." 
 
 " Well, I'm exceedingly sorry to hear it,
 
 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 311 
 
 as I said before. Mrs. Duberry is a woman 
 of the world, and she has been playing a 
 deep game all along." 
 
 " I am grieved on our dear Bessie's ac- 
 count. I long to see her, and to know how 
 she takes it. I fear it will be a cruel blow 
 to her, and she been the mistress at March- 
 mont ever since she was a bit of a child. I 
 see her now, in her little white frock and 
 blue sash, running about the garden with 
 our boys. What a merry little soul it was !" 
 
 The good lady's eyes filled with tears at 
 this retrospect ; and she was so little herself 
 that she actually drained the teapot in supr 
 plying the Rector with his second cup, a cir- 
 cumstance which he observed at once, and 
 for which she excused herself on the score 
 that she had not been put about so many a 
 day as she had been by the news of that 
 morning. 
 
 But her husband, the scholar, who lived 
 in a world of his own, and was deeply en- 
 gaged in an abstruse work, did not view the 
 matter in the same light. He returned to 
 his study directly the simple meal was over,
 
 312 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 
 
 leaving his good wife to chew the cud of her 
 own reflections, and to go about her daily- 
 duties with a fresh load upon her motherly 
 heart. She was in her store-room, dusting 
 her jam-pots, and trying to find her usual 
 interest in her domestic avocations, when 
 she saw from the window, which looked out 
 on the old-fashioned garden, pleasant in 
 summer, but now mantled in white by the 
 hoar-frost and ashes of a winter's morning, 
 a well-known figure, in a seal-skin jacket 
 and red petticoat, coming up the garden 
 walk to the front-door. 
 
 " I felt sure that you would be coming 
 this morning, my love ; and here you are, 
 you see, almost before I expected you." 
 
 ^' Are you sorry or glad, dear Mrs. King- 
 dom?" the young girl replied, so gaily that 
 the lady so addressed looked up at her with 
 eagerly scanning eyes. 
 
 " Glad, of course, my dear, and still more 
 glad to see you so merry. To tell you the 
 truth, I thought it might have been other- 
 wise." 
 
 "Why should I not be merry? These
 
 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 313 
 
 crisp frosty mornings always make me feel 
 brisk." 
 
 " Well, it was not exactly that, but I did 
 not know how you would take the news." 
 
 " What news ? Don't you begin to deal 
 in mysteries, Mrs. Kingdom, or I shall be- 
 lieve that the world is turned topsy-turvey. 
 I have heard no news either to make me 
 sorry or glad." 
 
 " Is it possible that you have heard no- 
 thing ? Perhaps, then, after all, there is no 
 truth in it." 
 
 " In what? I assure you you are speak- 
 ing in riddles to me. Pray enlighten me at 
 once, or I shall have to invade the Rector in 
 his study, and disturb the solitude of him 
 and Evelina." 
 
 " Ah ! poor Evelina ! It was when Jane 
 brought in the urn that all this happened — 
 at least that I heard of what had happened. 
 If it's only gossip after all, the poor animal 
 might have been spared the pain." 
 
 ^' I am in despair, and frightfully in the 
 dark. How does this news affect me ?" 
 
 " Has not your papa told you, my dear?"
 
 314 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 
 
 " Papa tells me Qotliing now ; besides, he 
 was altogether put out yesterday at dinner, 
 and this morning he was not in a talking 
 mood. Does he want me to marry Lord 
 Kurtch? Has he asked him to stay at 
 Marchmont ?" 
 
 " Not that I have heard of, my dear, al- 
 though I have no doubt but that he w^ould 
 approve of such a match. It was nothing 
 to do with your marriage ; although I will 
 not say thai it was not of a marriage that 
 Jane had heard •" 
 
 " Of whose ? Come, you must really tell 
 me. My curiosity is becoming unbearable." 
 
 ^' Is it possible that you have no sus- 
 picion ?" 
 
 "Not the slightest. Who is there to 
 marry about here ? 
 
 ' About us here where rides the peer ?' 
 
 Nay, name him if you can, except the Count 
 Alarcos, and he's a married man — and that's 
 papa," she added with a laugh, " or Uncle 
 Rex ; and whether he is a married man or 
 not, nobody knows."
 
 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 315 
 
 " Your papa is a widower, my love ; has 
 it never entered your head that " 
 
 " He is Hkely ever to marry again ? No, 
 it certainly never has," the young girl re- 
 plied, with a quick flush of annoyance. " I 
 am positively certain that such a thing would 
 never enter his head. I do not even like 
 to talk or think of the possibility of such a 
 thing." 
 
 '' They have got it in the village and up 
 at the Hall, too, that there is a possibility, 
 and I fear even a probability, of the Squire's 
 marrying a lady not a hundred miles away 
 from here ; but I hope from my heart thepe 
 is no truth in the report." 
 
 *'You mean Mrs. Duberry, I suppose. 
 The idea is too ridiculous. But I can see 
 how the report originated. She amuses him, 
 and he goes there very often." 
 
 " That is what they say." 
 
 " But you don't mean to say that you be- 
 lieved it for an instant ?" 
 
 " My dear, I hardly know what to be- 
 lieve. That horrid woman Rigors has an- 
 nounced it to the tradespeople as a fact."
 
 316 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 
 
 Bessie's cheek paled, and she laughed 
 again ; but this time the laugh had an hys- 
 terical ring in it. 
 
 "It is too preposterous," she said : but 
 the smile died upon her lips as Mrs. King- 
 dom shook her head in reply, and said 
 gravely, 
 
 " My dear child, I fear that we all have 
 been too blind. I cannot think that the 
 woman would have dared " 
 
 " If papa does such a thing as you say, he 
 will break my heart. I hate the woman, 
 and he knows it. He will do it with his 
 eyes open." 
 
 Bessie spoke with such a passionate out- 
 burst of feeling, that the simple motherly 
 woman, who had anticipated a " good cry," 
 but nothing more, was alarmed and awe- 
 struck. 
 
 " If he thinks of such a thing as marrying 
 Mrs. Duberry," she went on, "he must make 
 up his mind to part with me, for nothing 
 would ever induce me to live under the same 
 roof with her. She is odious, hateful, repul- 
 sive to me in the extreme : but I can never
 
 TKIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 317 
 
 believe it until I hear it from his own lips." 
 
 " I wish 1 had not told you what I had 
 heard. I would not have done so if I had 
 not believed that there was some truth in 
 it." 
 
 ''Papa would not have deceived me so 
 cruelly, to break my heart at last." 
 
 " He might not have foreseen how deeply 
 you would feel it. Men look upon such 
 things in a very diiFerent light." 
 
 "Do not speak to me, dear Mrs. King- 
 dom. I am trying to think. I am trying 
 to remember. Oh ! mamma, mamma ! if 
 you had only lived — if my little brothers 
 had lived, I should never have been left 
 alone and friendless in the world ! If papa 
 marries this woman, I will write to Reggie 
 to-morrow. I have sacrificed my own hap- 
 piness for him — and this is to be my reward! 
 Oh ! he will never do me this cruel wrong; !" 
 
 " Hush ! my dear ; you must not allow 
 yourself to say such things. You must re- 
 member that your father has a right to do 
 as he likes in a matter which concerns his 
 own happiness. You will make yourself
 
 318 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 
 
 ill if you excite yourself in this fashion; and, 
 after all, it may not he trueT 
 
 " I will go to papa — I will ask him, and 
 if it is true, I will do as I say. I am not a 
 child, and I will not be treated like one. 
 My will is as strong as his, and I had given 
 up all for him." 
 
 " You had better not go just yet — your 
 eyes are wild and your hair so tumbled," 
 Mrs. Kingdom said as she stroked the pretty 
 head now lying on her breast, with a tender, 
 motherly touch. 
 
 " Never mind my hair — he will not notice 
 it — he will not care, if it is as you say ; but 
 I must know, and know at once," Bessie 
 answered, as, with one of the sudden im- 
 pulses natural to her, she sprang to her feet, 
 and snatching^ her hat from the table where 
 it lay, she flew off in the direction of home. 
 " Where is papa ?" she asked, rather wildly, 
 of Mr. Serschal, as she encountered him 
 panting under the weight of a coal-box in 
 the hall. 
 
 " In the library. Miss Bessie, now ; but 
 he's just ordered the cob to go out — Bick- 
 leigh way, I suppose."
 
 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 319 
 
 This inuendo was conveyed sotto voce^ in 
 an asthmatic whisper, — the servants were 
 puzzled to know whether their young mis- 
 tress had been made acquainted with the 
 fact that had galvanized the whole commu- 
 nity ; and this remark was thrown out with 
 the view of ascertaining the truth. Miss 
 Marchmont, however, made no sign that 
 could be interpreted into knowledge or 
 ignorance, but passed swiftly on into the 
 library, where she stood the next minute in 
 the presence of her father, very pale and 
 determined, but with a passionate earnest- 
 ness in her gleaming eyes. * 
 
 '' Papa," she said, " is what I have heard 
 true?" 
 
 '' What have you heard, child ? — and why 
 do you look at me like that ?" 
 
 The Squire was, in truth, terrified by her 
 wild eyes, and was trying to gain time and 
 to sound her as to the extent of her infor- 
 mation with regard to the fact to which his 
 conscience told him that she alluded — liis 
 engagement to Mrs. Duberry. 
 
 "That you are going to be married.
 
 320 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 
 
 papa — married to Mrs. Duberry. I only 
 ask you to say yes or no. Naturally it is 
 hard to be kept quite in the dark." 
 
 " Really," replied Mr. Marchmont, rising, 
 and working himself up to be angry with 
 his daughter, because his heart was deeply 
 pricked by her words, and by the white 
 face of eager inquiry which she raised to his. 
 ^' I am too old to be catechised by my own 
 child ; but as you force it from me, I will 
 answer your question shortly, as you demand, 
 in the affirmative. You do not make my 
 home so agreeable as to cause me to repent 
 my determination, and to your dutiful ques- 
 tion I answer unhesitatingly, yes. The lady 
 who has done me the honour of accepting 
 me as her future husband, is one whom I 
 wish to hear mentioned in future in this 
 house with proper respect, or not at all. 
 Your sagacity is not at fault with regard to 
 her name. Mrs. Duberry will, I hope, be 
 Mrs. Marchmont before many months are 
 over our heads." 
 
 It was over — it was done — the dreaded 
 announcement which the father had not had
 
 TRIALS OF AN HEIRESS. 321 
 
 the courage to make in cold blood, had 
 been spoken in the heat of anger, and made 
 doubly cruel by the sting of the accompany- 
 ing taunt. 
 
 Bessie neither spoke nor moved for a mo- 
 ment. The wound was too deep to bleed 
 outwardly. Then with a smothered cry, 
 in which the agony of her spirit seemed to 
 find utterance, she sobbed, " Oh ! mamma ! 
 mamma ! if I had only died with you ! " — 
 and flying from her father's presence, she 
 shut herself up in her own room for the 
 remainder of the most miserable day which 
 she had ever spent. 
 
 END OF THE FIRST VOLUME. 
 
 LOrroON : PRINTED BY MACDONALD AND TDQWELL, BLENHEIM HOUSE.