L I B RAR.Y 
 
 OF THE 
 
 U N 1 VERS ITY 
 
 or ILLl NOIS 
 
 V. 
 
 I
 
 HILARY ST. IVES. 
 
 % io&eL 
 
 WILLIAM HARRISON AINS WORTH. 
 
 IN TIIUEE VOLUMES 
 
 VOL. I. 
 
 LONDON : 
 
 CHAPMAN AND HALL. 193, PICCADILLY. 
 
 1870. 
 
 Vv 
 
 ( T/if right of Tronshition is reserfeiL]
 
 i/.l 
 
 CONTENTS OF VOL. I. 
 
 BOOK I. 
 
 \^ MAY. 
 
 \^ Lost on a Heath 
 
 I 
 
 Mrs. Sutton 
 
 PAGE 
 
 . 3 
 
 . 31 
 
 III. 
 
 Mrs. Radcmffe . 
 
 IV. 
 
 The Intkkview . 
 
 li: 
 
 ; i- 
 
 . 54 
 
 . 74
 
 JV CONTEXTS. 
 
 V. PAOK 
 
 Mat and her Mothek 87 
 
 VI. 
 Oswald 98 
 
 VII. 
 
 Mr. Radcliffe 115 
 
 VIII. 
 
 Sir Charles Ilminster and Lady Richbokough , 125 
 
 IX. 
 
 Why Mrs. Sutton went to Guildford, and whom 
 she met there 139 
 
 X. 
 
 Colonel Delacombe 152 
 
 XI. 
 
 Mr. Page Thornton Ifil 
 
 XIT. 
 In what manner Mrs. Sutton obtained possession 
 OF the Documents 1 80 
 
 XIII. 
 May's Birthday 191
 
 CONTENTS. V 
 
 XIV. PAOB 
 
 Hilary's Stoey 209 
 
 XV. 
 
 The Sketch 228 
 
 XVI. 
 Breakfast 241 
 
 XVII. 
 
 What passed in the Housekeeper's Room . .257 
 
 XVIII. 
 A Second Breakfast 266 
 
 XIX. 
 
 Ho'w they met after long Years .... 276 
 
 VOL. I.
 
 pilarg ^t, |ks. 
 
 BOOK I. 
 
 MAY, 
 
 VOL. I.
 
 I. 
 
 LOST ON A HEATH, 
 
 Ont: evening, at the latter end of April, a few 
 rears ago, just as it was becoming dusk, a young 
 man, extremely well favoured and well propor- 
 tioned, took his way on foot across an extensive 
 heath in one of our southern counties. 
 
 Hilary St. Ives — for so was he named — might 
 he about one or two and twenty. Rather dark, 
 perhaps, but strildngly handsome. Features 
 regular and well cut ; complexion olive ; locks 
 jet black ; eyes dark and shaded by long eyelashes 
 b2
 
 4 HILARY ST. IVES. 
 
 that tempered their fire; beard black and of a 
 silken texture. Altogether, as fine a young man 
 as you could desire to see. A Tweed walking 
 suit and round felt hat constituted his costume. 
 Across his broad shoulders were strapped a knap- 
 sack and a waterproof coat, and he carried a stout 
 stick in his hand. 
 
 Our young traveller was bound for the village 
 of Wootton, which was situated at the further side 
 of the heath, where he had learnt there was a good 
 inn, at which he proposed to rest for the night. 
 He had Avalked far that day, and having dined 
 early and somewhat sparingly, was quite ready for 
 supper. In fact, the keen air and exercise made 
 him feel ravenously hungry. 
 
 As far as he could judge — for he was a stranger 
 to the country — three miles still lay between him 
 and the desired haven. Nothing to so stout a 
 pedestrian as he. But if the distance could be
 
 HILARY ST. IVES. 5 
 
 shortened so iiiucli the better. He wouhl be 
 sooner at the inn and supper Avoukl be sooner set 
 before him. 
 
 After looking in the direction -where he sup- 
 posed Wootton Liv, and studying, as far as he was 
 able, the intervening ground, he came to the con- 
 clusion that a considerable anMe niiirht be cut off 
 by quitting the high road, and crossing the heath 
 as a crow would wing its flight over it. All very 
 well in the day-time, but the shades of night were 
 gathering rapidly, and the gloom was increased 
 l)y a mist that arose from an adjacent marsh. 
 
 Ililan', however, had no misgivings — no idea 
 of the risk he might run. He was not aware 
 that between him and Wootton lay a deep and 
 dangerous morass, which could only be safely 
 traversed by one familiar with the locality. 
 
 AYootton Heath, though partially reclaimed, still 
 comprehended many miles of wholly uncultivated
 
 b HILARY ST. IVES. 
 
 land. Being undrainecT, some portions of the waste 
 were marshy, and about half a mile to the left of 
 the road, along which our young traveller was 
 wending his way, lay the extensive morass to 
 which we have just adverted. 
 
 On the other side the heath was less swampy, 
 and being covered by a short thymy turf, was well 
 adapted to sheep pasture. When enlivened by 
 sunshine, the wide expanse, purpled by heather, 
 embellished by fern and clusters of tall gorse, vnth 
 here and there a grey old thorn or a holly, pre- 
 sented a charming pictm^e. The limits of the 
 heath were marked on the right by a broad belt 
 of firs overtopped by the white spire of a newty 
 built church. On the left the boundary was un- 
 defined, the village of Wootton being invisible. 
 Three or four little knolls or hillocks rising in the 
 midst of the waste were crowned with clumps of 
 pines, and contributed to the beauty of the land- 
 scape.
 
 HILARY ST. IVES. 7 
 
 Before quitting the high road Hilary looked 
 around in quest of some one to direct him to 
 Wootton. Not a human being was in sight. Not 
 a sound Avas heard, except the bleating of sheep 
 and the distant barking of a watch-dog. The 
 heath was perfectly solitary. However, our young 
 traveller did not hesitate ; but striking off on the 
 left, where, as we have explained, the danger lay, 
 he speeded over the elastic turf. 
 
 In this manner he had soon accomplished nearly 
 half a mile, without encountering any obstacle, 
 except such as was presented by clumps of gorse, 
 intermingled with briers, and was congratulating 
 himself on his cleverness, when the swampy nature' 
 of the ground brought him to a sudden stand- 
 still. 
 
 Not a minute too soon. Had he taken many 
 steps farther, he would have been engulphed in 
 the treacherous morass. lie understood his danger, 
 and perceiving that the quagmire must be im-
 
 8 HILARY ST. IVES. 
 
 passable, and not liking to skirt it, he turned back, 
 as much provoked with himself as he had pre- 
 viously been well satisfied. 
 
 He endeavom'ed to regain the high road, which 
 he had so imprudently quitted, but bewildered by 
 the gloom — for it was now quite dark — he failed 
 in discovering it, and after wandering about for 
 nearly half an hoiu', again found himself on the 
 verge of the morass. 
 
 This was indeed vexatious. But confident that 
 by pursuing a straight course he must eventually 
 reach the road, he turned back at once. Unluckily, 
 his course was not straight. Without being aware 
 of it, he deviated from the direct line, and to his 
 infinite surprise and mortification, found himself, 
 for the third time, on the borders of the morass. 
 
 He was now quite confounded, and began to 
 think he must be condemned to move in a magic 
 circle. 
 
 Another half hour found him only more hope-
 
 HILARY ST. IVES. 9 
 
 lessly involved. By no efforts could he discover 
 the road, though he appeared to have no difficulty 
 in finding the morass. Uneasy thoughts beset 
 him. He shuddered at the idea of passing the 
 night on the dark and di'eary heath. But he soon 
 took heart. Though constantly baffled, he would 
 not succumb, until forced to do so by sheer ex- 
 haustion. 
 
 Vainly did he attempt to extricate himself from 
 the magic circle. As surely as he went on, so 
 sm'ely did he come back to the inevitable point. 
 At last, he was brought to a halt. Carefully as he 
 proceeded, he contrived to roll down a hollow, 
 and when he recovered from the fall he sat down 
 on the brink of the pit to reflect ; the bitterness 
 of his reflections being aggravated by the tanta- 
 lising picture summoned up by his fancy of the 
 snug parlour at the inn, with the hot supper in 
 preparation. 
 
 Heavens! how hungry he felt. Springing to
 
 10 HILARY ST. IVES. 
 
 liis feet lie set off again, but presently got en- 
 tansled in a thick cluster of o;orse. 
 
 But help was now at hand. While he was 
 struggling out of the gorse, voices reached his ears, 
 and he instantly hastened in the direction whence 
 the sounds proceeded, shouting lustily as he 
 went. 
 
 Instead of responding to his outcries, the inter- 
 locutors became suddenly mute, and the darkness 
 did not permit him to distinguish them. 
 
 After a moment's pause, he called out again. 
 This time, a gruff voice demanded who he was, 
 and what he wanted ? Hilary replied that he was 
 a traveller, who had lost his way on the heath, 
 and pressing on as he spoke, soon descried two 
 sturdy-looking vagabonds, who were standing in a 
 more open spot, tranquilly awaiting his approach. 
 The fellows were roughly clad, and had the ap- 
 pearance of gipsies, and their looks and deport-
 
 HILARY ST. IVES. 11 
 
 ment inspired Hilary witli distrust. On their part, 
 the gipsies eyed him narrowly. 
 
 As he came up, the surly fellow who had first 
 adcbessed him, asked if he wanted to be smothered 
 in the boo-, that he ventured near it on so dark a 
 night. 
 
 '' I have no such desire," replied Hilary. " Like 
 a fool I must needs quit the high road, and I have 
 paid the penalty for my folly by being kept 
 wandering about on the brink of the marsh for 
 two hours at least." 
 
 " Ho ! ho !" laughed the gipsy. " Pleasant 
 pastime on a dark night. You may thank your 
 stars it's no worse. It's easier to get into a bog 
 than to get out of it, as many a poor devil has 
 found to his cost." 
 
 " I want to go to "Wootton !" cried Hilary, who 
 did not like this jesting ; " will you show me the 
 way?"
 
 12 HILARY ST. IVES. 
 
 "The nearest way lies straight on," said the 
 man. 
 
 " Why that -will take me to the marsh !" cried 
 Hilary. 
 
 " To be sure it will !" exclaimed the other gipsy, 
 with a coarse laugh. " Setli Cooper is gammon- 
 ing you. You must go round about, if you want 
 to get safely to Wootton." 
 
 "Why need you trouble yourself about him, 
 Reuben !" cried Seth Cooper. " What is it to you 
 if he should be drownded." 
 
 "Not much, certainly. Still " 
 
 " Will half a crown tempt you to show me the 
 road '?" interrupted Hilary. 
 
 " I should say not," retm'ned Seth Cooper. 
 " Do you rate your life at only half a crown's 
 valley?" 
 
 " Make it half a crown a-piece," quoth Reuben, 
 who seemed of milder mood than his companion, 
 " and we'll consider about it."
 
 IIILAKY ST. lYES. 13 
 
 " Well," cried the young man, " put me in the 
 right Avay to Wootton, and you sliall have what 
 you ask." 
 
 " Money down, or we don't budge," cried Seth 
 Cooper. 
 
 " No," rejoined Hilary, in a determined tone. 
 "Bring me to the high road, and I'll pay you. 
 But not a stiver till then." 
 
 Seth made some growling observations, but his 
 companion signified his assent to the young man's 
 proposal, and the pair at once moved off, bearing 
 towards the right. Hilary, who had now quite 
 recovered his energies, followed them. 
 
 After trudging along in silence for a few 
 minutes, Reuben hung back, and in a more civil 
 tone than he had previously adopted, inquired of 
 Hilary if he had travelled far that day ? 
 
 " Farther than you would like to travel on foot, 
 I reckon," replied the young man. 
 
 " Then you must have had u long tramp," re-
 
 14 HILARY ST. IVES. 
 
 turned Reuben, laughing. " Many's the time I've 
 clone my forty miles, and been none the worse 
 for it." 
 
 " But you warn't incommoded Avith a heavy 
 knapsack," remarked Seth Cooper, turning round. 
 "Why don't you offer to carry it for the gem- 
 man r 
 
 " Come, no nonsense !" cried Hilary, sternly. 
 " Leave my knapsack alone. You'd best." 
 
 *'Why, what's the matter?" rejoined Seth. 
 " Do you think we want to rob you — eh ?" 
 
 "You would find it no easy job if you made 
 the attempt. IMove on, I say, and keep well in 
 front." 
 
 But instead of complying, both men stopped. 
 
 "It seems you don't like our company, master," 
 remarked Reuben. " That being the case, you'd 
 better go on alone." 
 
 "You made a bargain with me, and I expect
 
 HILARY ST. IVES. 15 
 
 you to fulfil your part of it, as I mean to fulfil 
 mine," said Hilary, in a bold, authoritative tone. 
 " I insist upon your conducting me to the high 
 road." 
 
 " First tell us what you've got in that ere 
 knapsack," remarked Setli. "We should like to 
 know." 
 
 " Would you ? Then I don't intend to gratify 
 your cm'iosity. I would fain believe you to be 
 honest men." 
 
 "Why, what else do you take us for?" cried 
 Seth, fiercely. " Out with it. Let's know your 
 mind." 
 
 His manner clearly intimated violence, but his 
 comrade dragged him off, and they went on as 
 before. The high road was not far distant, and 
 on reaching it, they both faced about. 
 
 "That's the way to Wootton," said Reuben. 
 " We'll now Avisli you good night."
 
 16 HILARY ST. IVES. 
 
 " Not afore lie has settled with us," cried Seth. 
 
 While Hilary was searching for the money, 
 Seth rushed suddenly upon him, and seizing him 
 by the throat, with a choking gripe, bore him to 
 the ground. Hilary struggled desperately, and 
 would have freed himself, if Reuben had not 
 come to his comrade's assistance. 
 
 Seth then possessed himself of the stick, and 
 beat the luckless young man with it about the 
 head till he rendered him insensible. 
 
 The two ruffians next proceeded to despoil their 
 victim, took off his knapsack, and were proceeding 
 to empty his pockets and pluck the guard-chain 
 from his neck, when the noise of wheels alarmed 
 them. 
 
 A dog-cart was coming on at a quick pace, and 
 its lamp, together with the light of the cigars 
 they were smoking, showed there were two persons 
 in the vehicle. These persons appeared to be
 
 HILARY ST. IVES. 17 
 
 known to Reuben, for lie remarked to his comrade, 
 who was still kneeling upon his victim's chest, 
 
 "It's old Radcliffe, of Hazlemere, and his 
 nevey, young Oswald Woodcot. We must be off. 
 But first let us drag the poor devil out of the 
 road, or he'll be run over." 
 
 "Never mind if he is," rejoined Seth Cooper. 
 
 "If I'd had my own way, we should liave done 
 
 the job where we met him, and then we could 
 
 have flung the body into the bog, and no more 
 
 would have been heard of him." 
 
 Here the rapid advance of the dog-cart forced 
 him to abandon part of his booty, and he dis- 
 appeared with his comrade amid the furze-bushes. 
 
 The disaster apprehended by Reuben seemed 
 imminent. Luckily, however, jNIr. Radcliffe de- 
 scried tlic body of the unfortunate young man 
 lying in the middle of the road and pulled up 
 just in time. 
 
 VOL. I. C
 
 18 HILARY ST. IVES. 
 
 "Who-oh, Spanker!" lie cried. "AVliat's that, 
 a sack, or a man? Get down, Oswald, and see 
 what it is." 
 
 His nephew flung away his cigar, descended 
 at once, and immediately aftenvards called out, 
 in accents of horror, 
 
 "It's a man — mm'deied, I fear." 
 
 " Murdered ! bless me ! I hope not," cried Mr. 
 Radcliffe, who was likewise greatly horrified. 
 " Take the lamp, Oswald, and make a careful 
 examination. I'd get down myself, but, as you 
 know. Spanker won't stand." 
 
 And, as if to confirm the statement, the met- 
 tlesome horse snorted, and exliibited signs of 
 impatience. 
 
 " He's a young man, uncle — a veiy fine young 
 man," exclaimed Oswald, throwing tlie light of 
 the lamp upon Hilary's pallid and blood-stained 
 visage. " Eoughly handled, but not dead. He
 
 HILARY ST. IVES. ID 
 
 breathes, and I think may recover. It would 
 seem that he has only just been attacked, and 
 probably we have disturbed his assailants." 
 
 "Why do you imagine the poor fellow has 
 been attacked by more than one person, Oswald'?" 
 "For this reason, uncle. Such a powerfully 
 built young fellow, as he appears to be, would 
 have beaten any ordinary ruffian, unless he had 
 been taken unawares." 
 
 " Have you any idea who he is ?" 
 "Not the least. Never saw him before. He 
 looks like a gentleman. There's a signet ring on 
 his finger. I wonder the villains didn't take it. 
 Perhaps they hadn't time, for they've left his 
 watch and guard-chain. What's to be done, 
 uncle? We can't leave him here," 
 
 " Of course not," rejoined Mr. Radcliffe. " It's 
 a mercy 1 didn't run over him. I should never 
 have forgiven myself if I had." 
 C 2
 
 20 HILARY ST. IVES. 
 
 "Well, uncle, the best plan will be for you 
 to drive as fast as you can to Malham's, the 
 sui'geon's at Wootton, and procure assistance. 
 I'll stay -with the poor fellow." 
 
 *' No, no ; that won't do. The villains may be 
 lurking about. If we could only manage to get 
 him into the dog-cart, we might take him to the 
 surgery. Can he move at all?" 
 
 «rilsee." 
 
 As Oswald, who was a stalwart young fellow 
 himself, essayed to lift the injured man, the latter 
 exhibited some slight consciousness, but he was 
 so stunned and confused that considerable diffi- 
 culty was experienced in getting him into the 
 dog-cart. This being accomplished at last, he 
 was sustained by Oswald, while Mr. Radcliffe 
 di'ove on at a quick pace towards Wootton. 
 
 As they speeded over the heath, the rapidity 
 of the motion in some degree revived Hilarv, and
 
 HILARY ST. IVES. 21 
 
 he endeavoured to explain what had befallen him. 
 Mr. Radcliffe and his nephew, however, deemed it 
 prudent not to put too many questions to him. 
 
 On reaching Wootton, Mr. Radcliffe drove at 
 once to the surgery. Luckily, Mr. Malham was 
 within, and ha"\ang carefully washed the coagu- 
 lated blood from the wounded man's dark locks 
 and sponged his brow, he pronounced that he 
 was not seriously injured. There v/as no fractui'e 
 of the skull. A stimulant administered to the 
 sufferer tended greatly to restore him. 
 
 Meantime, Oswald, leaving the injured man to 
 the care of the surgeon, set off in quest of the 
 police, and he now returned with an officer, to 
 whom Hilary detailed all particulars of the mur- 
 derous attack made upon him, describing his 
 assailants as well as he could, and mentioning 
 the names by which they had addressed each 
 other.
 
 22 HILARY ST. IVES. 
 
 Wormald, tlie officer, who seemed an active 
 and intelligent man, listened attentively to what 
 was told him, and remarked tliat he had no doubt 
 the men were gipsies — Cooper being a common 
 name among the vagabonds. Wootton Heath, 
 he said, was infested by the vagabonds. Two 
 men, answering to the description given of the 
 robbers, had been seen about the village lately. 
 They were tinkers. Wormald felt certain he 
 should be able to effect their capture before 
 morning. 
 
 " I hope I shall recover my knapsack," said 
 Hilary. " It contains nothing of any value, 
 except some papers, M'hich are of great impor- 
 tance to myself. I would rather lose a good sum 
 of money than those documents." 
 
 On hearing this, the officer looked rather grave, 
 and so did Mr. Eadcliffe. 
 
 " Excuse me, sir, " remarked Wormald, " for
 
 HILARY ST. IVES. 23 
 
 saying that you ought not to have placed im- 
 portant documents in a knapsack." 
 
 " Certainly not," observed ^Ir. Radcliffe, shak- 
 ing his head. 
 
 " Yes, I feel I did wrong," said Hilary. 
 
 " Well, I don't think you Avill lose them, as 
 they can't be of any value to these rascals," said 
 the officer. 
 
 " You mustn't let the scent get cold, Wormald," 
 cried Oswald. "The sooner you give chase the 
 better." 
 
 " I can guess pretty well where I'm likely to 
 meet with the rogues, sir," said the officer, con- 
 fidently. " I and my mate. Barker, will mount 
 and be on their track in less than ten minutes. 
 But you haven't yet told me your name, sir." 
 
 "Hilai-y St. Ives — that's my name," replied 
 the young man. 
 
 " From Cornwall ? " inquired Oswald.
 
 24 HILARY ST. IVES. 
 
 " No," replied tlie other ; but he gave no 
 further information. " You'll find me at the 
 inn," he added to the officer. 
 
 "No, you won't, Wormald," cried ^Ir. Ead- 
 cliffe. "You'll find ^Ii'. St. Ives at Hazlemere. 
 I mean to take him home vith me." 
 
 "All right, sir," replied the officer. And Avith 
 a salute he departed. 
 
 " You ^von't he in bad quarters at Hazlemere, 
 I can promise you, Mr. St. Ives," observed 
 Oswald. " My uncle, though I say it to his 
 face, is the jolliest old gentleman in the county." 
 
 " At all events, you'll be more comfortable 
 with me than you would be at the George, though 
 you wouldn't be badly off there," said Mr. Ead- 
 cliffe. "My housekeeper, ^Ii's. Sutton, will take 
 good care of you — eh, Malham ? " 
 
 " ]\Ir. St. Ives couldn't be in better hands than 
 Mrs. Sutton's," returned the surgeon. "And he 
 loill require a nurse, for he mustn't expect to
 
 rilLAKY ST. IVES. 25 
 
 escape Avithout a little fever. It woulcbi't sur- 
 prise me if lie were laid up for two or three days." 
 
 "You hear that, Mr. Eadclifie," said Hilary. 
 " Doesn't that alarm you ? " 
 
 " Not in the least. Mrs. Sutton is an excellent 
 nurse, as Mr. JNIalham can testify." 
 
 " That I can, sir. Though Mr. St. Ives has 
 had the ill luck to be knocked down, he has 
 contrived to fall on his legs." 
 
 " Gad, Malham, it's uncommonly lucky we 
 happened to be passing at the time. My nephew 
 and I have been to Binfield — intending merely to 
 make a call — but Tom Irby persuaded us to stay 
 dinner, and we were getting back as fast as 
 Spanker could take us — and you know how well 
 he goes — when we came upon this poor young 
 fellow lying in the middle of the road. Another 
 minute, and it would have been all over Avith 
 liim — but we won't think of that. Here he is." 
 
 " I feel I am indebted to you, sir, and to your
 
 26 HILARY ST. IVES. 
 
 nephew for the preservation of my life," said 
 Hilary, earnestly. " I am truly sensible of your 
 kindness. But I really am not in a condition 
 to avail myself of your hospitality. Having lost 
 my knapsack, I have not even a change of linen." 
 
 " Poll ! Oswald will supply all your wants in 
 that respect." 
 
 " That I will, with the gi'eatest pleasure," said 
 the young man. "You shall have the pick of 
 my wardrobe, Mr. St. Ives, and as we're about 
 the same size, my things will fit you." 
 
 " All's settled," cried his uncle. " Help our 
 young friend into the dog-cart." 
 
 Hilary made some further remonstrances, but 
 the worthy old gentleman overruled them, and 
 glancing at his nephew, the latter assisted Hilary 
 to arise, and the two young men went out of the 
 surgery together. 
 
 !Mr. Eadcliffe tarried to have a parting word 
 with the surgeon.
 
 HILARY ST. IVES. 27 
 
 " Anything to say to me, Malliam ?" he asked. 
 
 " Not much, sir," rephed the surgeon. " You 
 may make up your mind to have this young man 
 at Hazlemere for three or four days, or a week. 
 He's certain to have fever, and it won't be long in 
 coming on. No need for alarm, though. No 
 mischief has heen done. He has been knocked 
 about the head pretty severely, but his skull is 
 luckily as thick as an Irishman's, and not easily 
 cracked. I needn't prescribe for him. You have 
 only to explain the case to Mrs. Sutton. She has 
 a medicine chest, and will know what to give 
 him." 
 
 "Ay, Mrs. Sutton beats you all hollow, Mai- 
 ham," cried Mr. Radcliffe, with a laugh. "She 
 likes to act as nurse." 
 
 "Mrs. Sutton is a very clever woman, and a 
 veiy good woman, and if I got hurt, I should like 
 her to nurse me — that's all I can say." 
 
 " She's invaluable to us, Malliam,"' cried the old
 
 28 HILARY ST. lYES. 
 
 gentleman, tears of gratitude springing to his eyes. 
 " She has lived with us for nineteen years — ever 
 since my darling May was born — and we have 
 never had a fault to find with her. As you know, 
 my dear wife has always been an invalid. A 
 nurse is a necessity to her, and she has found the 
 best of nurses in !Mi's. Sutton. Without her un- 
 remitting care and attention — and skill, Malham, 
 skill — ]\Irs. Kadcliffe wouldn't be alive now." 
 
 It seemed a pleasure to the old gentleman to 
 sing his housekeeper's praises. A pleasure, also, 
 to the surgeon to listen to them. 
 
 " You may with truth assert, sir," he rejoined, 
 " that, but for Mrs. Sutton's care, your wife would 
 not be alive now." 
 
 Emotion kept Mr. Eadcliffe silent. He brushed 
 his eyes, and said, " You'll come over to see this 
 young fellow in the morning, ]\Ialham ?" 
 
 " I'll come to see how he gets on, since you
 
 HILARY ST. IVES. 29 
 
 desire It, sir; but I'm sure Mrs. Sutton will treat 
 him properly." 
 
 "At all events, she'll be very glad to consult 
 with you. You're a great favom'ite of hers, Mal- 
 ham." 
 
 The surgeon smiled and bowed. 
 
 "I wonder who the deuce this young St. Ives 
 can be? and where he comes from? I don't 
 know whether you remarked it, but ho seemed 
 rather shy in giving any information about him- 
 self to my nephew. I'm certain he's a gentleman, 
 or I wouldn't take him home with me." 
 
 " A gentleman, no doubt, sir. Don't excite 
 him by any questions to-night. He's not exactly 
 himself. "We shall learn all about him, by and by. 
 Get him to bed as soon as you can." 
 
 Nothing more passed. !Mr. Eadcliffe bade the 
 surgeon good night, and shook hands with him. 
 On going forth, he found that his nephew and
 
 30 HILARY ST. IVES. 
 
 Hilary were already seated in the dog-cart. Mi'. 
 Malham's groom was standing at Spanker's head. 
 Taking the reins from the man, Mr. Radcliffe 
 got into the vehicle more actively than might 
 have been expected from so stout a personage, 
 and drove off. 
 
 Hazlemere was about a mile and a half distant 
 from Wootton, and while they are on the way 
 thither, we shall take the opportunity of offering a 
 brief description of the place, and saying a few 
 words about its occupants.
 
 HILARY ST. IVES. 31 
 
 n. 
 
 MKS. SUTTON. 
 
 Hazlemere House was a large, commodious, 
 red-brick mansion, built, towards the close of the 
 last century, by the present owner's grandsire 
 — a merchant of the City of London. The site 
 had been well chosen, in the midst of a lovely 
 country. Though the house was comparatively 
 modern, not being more than seventy years old, 
 there was fine timber around it ; the gardens were 
 extensive, and the grounds well laid out. At 
 no great distance, there was a miniature lake,
 
 32 HILARY ST. IVES. 
 
 from ^ylnch the place derived its name. " To 
 sum up," as the worthy old cit, who reared it, used 
 to say, it -was a delightful country house. 
 
 Like his sire and grandsire, our friend, ]\Ir. 
 Theobald Radcliffe, had been in business in the 
 City, but had retired several years ago, and now 
 lived entirely at Hazlemere. His wife, as we 
 have seen, was a great invalid, and never left 
 home. She would not stir without Mrs. Sutton, 
 and jSIrs. Sutton did not like to leave Hazlemere. 
 Mr. Radcliffe had no son ; but he had something 
 far better — a most charming daughter. 
 
 Her father was very proud of her, and he might 
 well be so. May Radcliffe had a thousand attrac- 
 tive qualities which it would take pages to enume- 
 rate. She must have had some f aidts, we supj)ose, 
 but her father could never discern them. He 
 thought her perfection. She was exceedingly 
 amiable, and her nature was so joyous that she
 
 HILARY ST. IVES. 33 
 
 seemed to diffuse happiness wherever she went. 
 Her light laughter was the pleasantest music in 
 her father's ears, though he liked also to listen to 
 her sweet voice as she touched the piano. May- 
 was a favourite with everybody in the house, 
 except Mrs. Sutton. The exception may appear 
 incomprehensible, seeing that Mrs. Sutton had 
 nui'sed her during infancy, and watched over her 
 ever since, and might naturally be supposed to 
 have almost a mother's love for her. But so it 
 was. Mrs. Sutton had once doated upon her; 
 but her feelings of late had undergone a change. 
 She did not, however, allow this change to appear, 
 but treated May with every semblance of affec- 
 tion, and seemed anxious as ever to gratify her 
 shghtest wish. 
 
 But May was not to be deceived. She detected 
 the change. What had she done to forfeit her 
 dear old nurse's love? She could not tell. But 
 
 VOL. I. D
 
 34 HILARY ST. IVES. 
 
 the idea made her unhapp}^, and being wholly 
 incapable of concealment, she confessed her un- 
 easiness to the author of it, promising, if she had 
 offended in any way, to make instant reparation, 
 *' Tell me what it is, dear Mrs. Sutton," she cried, 
 "You know how dearly I love you." 
 
 Mrs. Sutton looked surprised and hurt, and 
 reproached her gently, telling her she was a silly 
 child to entertain any such nonsensical notion. 
 She then kissed her affectionately, and assured 
 her, with a look that carried conviction with 
 it, that she loved her better than any one in 
 the world, except her dear mistress. Secretly, 
 perhaps, ^Ii's. Sutton did not love either of them 
 overmuch. But she played her part so well, that 
 she effectually dissipated all May's misgivings. 
 
 Mrs. Radcliffe was the youngest daughter of 
 ^ii'. Page Thornton, a flourishing solicitor of 
 Chester. Both the Miss Thorntons were con- 
 sidered belles in their day, and had been much 
 
 I
 
 HILARY ST. IVES. 35 
 
 admired by the youth of Chester, as well as by 
 the officers quaitered in the ancient city of Hugh 
 Lupus. Both married well, though neither was 
 united to the man she herself would have chosen. 
 Isabella, the eldest, became the second wife of 
 Dr. Woodcot, an eminent physician in Man- 
 chester. But of her anon. Esther Thornton, 
 who had been a great flirt, and had had we 
 know not how many entanglements, managed to 
 captivate Mr, Radcliffe, whom she met at a ball 
 at Liverpool. Mr. Radcliffe was double Esther's 
 age ; but that did not matter ; he was a wealthy 
 merchant, and when he followed her to Chester, 
 and proposed, Mr. Thornton, who Avas tired out 
 by so many flu'tations that came to nothing, 
 insisted upon her accepting him. She did so, and 
 gave up Captain Delacombe, who became dis- 
 tracted. Like a sensible fellow as he was, ^Ir. 
 Radcliffe did not trouble himself with his wife's 
 D 2
 
 36 HILARY ST. IVES. 
 
 former flirtations, but esteemed himself eminentlj 
 fortunate in possessing such a charming creature. 
 
 Esther had been always extremely delicate, and 
 after the birth of ^lay she became a confirmed 
 invalid. A young widow, unembarrassed by a 
 family, was recommended to her as a nurse. 
 This was Mrs. Sutton, avIio had never since 
 quitted the family, and had really become a very 
 important member of it. It is questionable 
 whether she had most influence wuth ]\Irs. Rad- 
 cliffe or her husband. Both were governed b}' 
 her without being aware of it. IMi's. Sutton at 
 the time of her entrance into the ;^ family, and 
 assumption of the duties of nurse and house- 
 keeper, for she filled both offices, was about five- 
 and-twenty — perhaps not quite so much — but she 
 called herself five-and-twenty. She never gave 
 any particulars of her previous history, nor were 
 they asked for, out of consideration for her feel-
 
 HILARY ST. IVES. 37 
 
 ings, it being understood that her marriage had 
 been unhappy. Her countenance long wore a 
 shade of melancholy, but this wore off in time. 
 She was perfectly well educated, and had the 
 manners of a gentlewoman; but though evi- 
 dently superior to her situation, she fulfilled all 
 its duties, and became, as her mistress declared, 
 a model nurse and a model housekeeper. Plain 
 of feature, she was not without personal attrac- 
 tion, for her figure was good, her hair dark and 
 fine, her complexion very fair, and her teeth 
 beautifully white and even. Her hands and feet 
 were small and well fonned. Such charms as 
 she possessed she contrived to preserve in a very 
 wonderful manner, and indeed she seemed rather 
 to improve than deteriorate by age. She dressed 
 very plainly and consistently, but was so neat 
 that what she wore always became her. Mrs. 
 Eadcliffe used often to say that she could never
 
 38 HILARY ST. IVES. 
 
 get a dress to fit her in the same way that Mrs. 
 Sutton's dresses did. Her manner was extremely 
 quiet and prepossessing. At first Mrs. Sutton 
 had had the care of INIay, but JSIrs. Radchffe's 
 delicate state of health demanded her exclusive 
 care, and another nurse was engaged. Gradually 
 she rose to an important position in the house, 
 but as she never made her power unpleasantly 
 manifest, she was liked by the whole household, 
 of whom she was in effect mistress, for Mrs. 
 Radcliffe was too feeble to attempt the manage- 
 ment, and !Mi*. Radcliffe, who was quite aware 
 of his wife's incompetency, was well pleased that 
 she should be thus efficiently represented. ]\Irs. 
 Radcliffe entrusted her keys and her purse to 
 her housekeeper, kept nothing from her in fact, 
 and was -constantly making her handsome pre- 
 sents. Mrs. Sutton was her confidante and 
 counseller, and as she possessed a far stronger
 
 HILARY ST. IVES. 39 
 
 mind than her mistress, her ascendancy became 
 complete. But as May grew up Mrs. Sutton 
 began to fear she might be supphmted. Hence 
 her jealousy of the amiable and unoffending girl, 
 to whom she had previously been so fondly at- 
 tached. She could brook no interference. Never 
 would she relinquish the keys — never submit to 
 have her authority restricted or controlled. The 
 sole plan of removing her young and dangerous 
 rival was to get her married, and she had no 
 doubt that this could be speedily accomplished. 
 Already ^lay had plenty of suitors, but she 
 seemed to care for none of them. Mrs, Sutton, 
 however, relied upon Cousin Oswald. 
 
 And now a few words as to this young gentle- 
 man. Oswald Woodcot was the only son of Mrs. 
 Radcliffe's sister Isabella, who had now been some 
 ten years a widow. Mrs. Woodcot Avas not very 
 well off, her late husband having left the bulk of
 
 40 HILARY ST. IVES. 
 
 his property to his children by his first w^fe. Her 
 son, therefore, was indebted for the excellent edu- 
 cation he had received to his gi-andfather, Mr. 
 Thornton, of Chester, who was still alive, and 
 still in business, though an old man. Oswald was 
 destined for the bar, and had every prospect of 
 success, owing to his grandfather's interest and 
 connexions ; but he had a distaste to the legal pro- 
 fession, though he didn't care to avow it to ^Ir. 
 Thornton. The old solicitor, who was very rich, 
 and talked of making him his heir, might change 
 his mind, if he displeased him. Mrs. Woodcot 
 would have liked to see her son in the army, but 
 of course this was out of the question, unless Mr. 
 Thornton's consent could be obtained, and it being 
 quite certain he would strongly oppose the plan, 
 it was never mentioned to him, and the idea was 
 abandoned. It was pretty clear, however, that 
 Oswald would never make a figure at the bar, and
 
 HILARY ST. IVES. 41 
 
 this his shrewd old grandfather had already begun 
 to suspect. Mrs. Woodcot had another plan in 
 regard to her son, which she persuaded herself 
 could he easily carried out, which would materially 
 better his prospects, and at the same time ensure 
 liis happiness. This was to bring about a match 
 between him and her lovely niece, May Eadcliffe. 
 She really saw no difficulty in the matter. The 
 young people seemed made for each other. Oswald 
 was a very handsome young fellow — at least, in his 
 mother's opmion — just three years older than his 
 charming cousin, and his disposition was so kind 
 and good that he could not fail to make her happy. 
 The fortune, it is true, was all on May's side, for 
 she could give her son little or nothing ; but had 
 he not great expectations from his grandfather, 
 who had almost announced his intention of making 
 him his heir, and who might be induced to do 
 something at once, if the marriage were arranged ?
 
 42 HILARY ST. IVES. 
 
 Thus the fond mother argued, and her son was 
 quite of the same opinion, for he was over head 
 and ears in love with his lovely cousin. 
 
 Aware of the danger of making a false step 
 in a matter so important — aware also of Mrs. 
 Sutton's influence over her sister, and indeed over 
 Mr. Radcliffe, Mrs. Woodcot endeavoiu'ed to 
 secure the housekeeper's assistance, and urged 
 Oswald to conciliate her by every means in his 
 power. Mrs. Sutton — for reasons we have already 
 explained — met him half-way, and soon showed 
 that she was ready to become his ally. Oswald 
 therefore seemed in a fair way of success. But 
 he had not, as yet, received sufficient encom'age- 
 ment from May to warrant a formal declaration. 
 She liked him very much, and was always very 
 happy and cheerful in his society, but she seemed 
 only to regard him as a cousin. Oswald was 
 therefore perplexed, but ^Irs. Sutton encouraged
 
 HILARY ST. IVES. 43 
 
 him, though at the same time she recommended 
 him not to be precipitate. Meantime, the house- 
 keeper had cautiously sounded her mistress, and 
 liad ascertained that there was no disincHnation 
 on her part to the match. Mrs. RadcHffe thought 
 the young people were well suited to each other, 
 and she would not he sorry to have May happily 
 married, though she felt sure ^Ir. Radcliffe would 
 not like to part with her. Nor was she wrong. 
 "VYlien the plan was hinted to him by his wife, he 
 laughed at it, and hoped Oswald had got no such 
 foolish notion into his head. If he thought so, 
 he should be obliged to forbid him the house, and 
 he should be very sorry to do that, on all accounts. 
 He had got a husband for ^lay in his eye ; but 
 he did not intend her to marry just at present. 
 Mr. Radcliffe was rather self-willed, and any im- 
 mediate opposition would only have made him 
 more obstinate. Mrs. Sutton understood him very
 
 44 HILARY ST. IVES. 
 
 well, and knew she could get over the difficulty. 
 But May's heart must first be won. That grand 
 point had yet to be achieved. 
 
 Oswald had plenty of opportunity of winning 
 his fair cousin's affections. He was always 
 welcome at Hazlemere, and indeed just as much 
 at home with his uncle, who sincerely liked him, 
 though he objected to him as a son-in-law, as he 
 was with his mother. He therefore came when 
 it suited him, and stayed as long as he pleased. 
 As we have shown, he did not trouble himself 
 much about his profession. He had not even 
 chambers in town. His mother resided in a 
 prettily-situated cottage at Bowdon, in Cheshire, 
 and he made her house his head-quarters. He was 
 fond of hunting and shooting, and as he knew a 
 good many of the Cheshire squires, and visited 
 them, he could always get a mount, though he 
 could not aflTord to keep a horse, and as much
 
 HILAKY ST. IVES. 45 
 
 shooting as he wanted. But with the attraction 
 whicli it now offered him, we may suppose that he 
 passed most of his time at Hazlemere. Besides 
 wooing his fair cousin, he paid great court to his 
 aunt, made himself as agreeable as he could to 
 his uncle, and did not, we may be sure, neglect 
 Mrs. Sutton. He wrote, now and then, to report 
 progress to his mother — but he could not send her 
 the intelligence she longed for. All, however, 
 was going on prosperously, and Mrs. Sutton was 
 secretly at work for him. 
 
 Such was the position of things at Hazlemere, at 
 the time avc are about to enter the house, and 
 make acquaintance with its inmates. 
 
 We will now return to the party in the dog- 
 cart, whom we left on the way to Hazlemere. 
 Long before they arrived there, Hilary became 
 exceedingly faint, and his head fell upon Oswald's 
 shoulder. Rather alarmed, Mr. Radcliffe acce-
 
 46 HILARY ST. IVES. 
 
 leratecl his pace, and soon reached his destina- 
 tion. The lodge gates were open, but instead of 
 pursuing the drive that led to the principal en- 
 trance of the mansion, Mr. Radcliffe took a side 
 road to the stables, and committing the injui'ed 
 man to the care of his nephew, and giving some 
 hasty directions to the coachman, who had rushed 
 forth on his arrival, he hurried into the house 
 to prepare Mrs. Sutton for her unexpected 
 patient. 
 
 Shortly afterwards, Hilary was led into the 
 house, supported between Oswald and the coach- 
 man. He was now almost unconscious, but as 
 he was borne across the spacious hall, the vision 
 of a lovely girl, who seemed to take great interest 
 in him, flitted before his swimming gaze. He 
 saw nothing more. He was taken up-stairs, and 
 transported to a chamber which had been hastily 
 prepared for his reception by Mrs. Sutton.
 
 HILARY ST. IVES. 47 
 
 Hilary passed a very disturbed night. He slept 
 for a few hours, but when he awoke fever had 
 come on. He was quite light-headed, and rambled 
 strangely in his talk. !Mrs. Sutton, who had 
 Avatched anxiously by his couch, and was alone 
 with him at the time, listened with breathless 
 interest to his ravings. A few words which he 
 had let fall fixed her attention, and rising softly 
 from her seat, she drew neai'er to him, and gazed 
 eagerly and inquiringly into his face. 
 
 Had IMr. Radcliffe seen her at this moment 
 he would not have known her, so changed was 
 her aspect. Her usual calm expression was gone, 
 and had given place to a look of intense emotion 
 such as she never exhibited. 
 
 What thoughts passed through her breast as 
 she pm'sued this agonising scrutiny we shall not 
 inquire. Her emotion became so violent that she 
 feared it would master her. But she neither
 
 48 HILARY ST. IVES. 
 
 cried out, nor fell. Her senses seemed wrapped 
 in the object before her. Wliile she yet gazed 
 at him, incapable of stirring, though so pro- 
 foundly agitated, the sufferer ceased to rave, and 
 his breathing soon proclaimed that he once more 
 slumbered. 
 
 Her life appeared to hang upon the step she 
 next took. Bending forward, and carefully raising 
 the coverlet — so carefully that she did not dis- 
 turb the sleeper — she laid bare the lower part 
 of his neck, and then discovered the mark she 
 sought. 
 
 All doubts were now removed. Her strength 
 deserted her, and she sank back in the chah 
 completely overcome by emotion. 
 
 When she recovered, she found that the suf- 
 ferer was awake and gazing at her with vacant 
 wonder. Her sobs, which she could not check, 
 had roused him. She immediately got up, and
 
 HILARY ST. IVES. 49 
 
 witli as much firmness as she could command, 
 offered him a coolino; draught. He drank it 
 eagerly, and as he gazed earnestly in her face 
 she had great difficulty in refraining from throw- 
 ing herself upon his neck. But she took his 
 hand, and held it till he again slumbered; and 
 she then kissed his burning brow. 
 
 According to his promise, Mr. Malham came 
 in the morning to see the injured man. By this 
 time the fever had increased, and Hilan-'s pulse 
 was very high, but the sui'geon declared there 
 was no occasion for alarm, and proceeded to dress 
 the sufferer's wounds, and this seemed to afford 
 him sensible rehef. JMi'. Malham was rather sur- 
 prised by Mrs. Sutton's anxiety about her patient. 
 He assm'ed her there was no danger, and she 
 could not have treated him better. He smiled 
 as he said this, as if admitting her superior skill. 
 Mr. Malham was a widower, and was looking 
 
 VOL. I. E
 
 50 HILARY ST. IVES. 
 
 out for another wife. Despite his assurance, she 
 still appeared grave and anxious. " My dear 
 madam," he said, giving her hand a gentle pro- 
 fessional squeeze, "there is really no cause for 
 uneasiness. You are sure to bring him round." 
 
 " I should like to have a word -vv^th you before 
 you go, Mr. Malham," she rejoined. 
 
 " As many as you please, dear madam," he 
 replied, following her into a dressing-room which 
 opened out of the bed-chamber. 
 
 She then obtained from hmi full particulars as 
 to the attack that had been made by the gipsies 
 upon ^Ir. St. Ives, and learnt, fmther, that the 
 police had been hitherto unsuccessful in captm'ing 
 the robbers. 
 
 " Wormald was very confident last night," said 
 the surgeon, "but I saw him only an horn' ago, 
 and he was still quite at fault. The rascals have 
 got off. Don't say anything to our patient, as it
 
 HILARY ST. IVES. 51 
 
 may excite him and retard his cm'e, but I fear 
 he will lose his knapsack, and according to his 
 own account it contained some documents of great 
 importance to him." 
 
 " Indeed ! " exclaimed :Mrs. Sutton. " Then it 
 is to he hoped he may recover it. Pray who is 
 the young gentleman ? " 
 
 " Your cm'iosity about him is very natural, 
 dear madam, and I regret I cannot gratify it. 
 We are all in the dark about him. He gave no 
 account of himself last night, and Mr. Radcliffe 
 was too considerate to ask any questions." 
 
 " But I thought he might have said some- 
 thing " 
 
 " He didn't even state where he came from. 
 He merely mentioned his name — Hilary St. Ives." 
 
 " I never heard the name before," remarked 
 Mrs. Sutton. 
 
 " Nor I," observed the surgeon. " There is 
 E 2
 
 52 HILARY ST. IVES. 
 
 no family of that name hereabouts. If I had' 
 any notion who he is, I would write to his 
 friends." 
 
 " We must wait till he is able to give the 
 necessary explanation," said Mrs. Sutton. " And 
 I think you will agree with me, that it is best 
 he should not be disturbed to-day — by any one." 
 
 " I quite agree with you, dear madam. Just 
 what I, myself, should have recommended. He 
 must be kept quiet — perfectly quiet. I'll enjoin 
 Mr. Kadcliffe and Mr. Oswald not to come near 
 him, without your sanction." 
 
 And he again smiled tenderly, implying that 
 he would do anything to please her. 
 
 "Thank you very much, Mr. Malliam," she 
 rejoined. "I won't detain you any longer. Of 
 course I shall see you to-morrow morning ?" 
 
 " Of course, since you desire it. Ah ! dear 
 madam," he sighed, " I feel sometimes very lonely 
 in my widowed home."
 
 HILARY ST. IVES. 53 
 
 ^Irs. Sutton took no notice of the remark, but 
 ushered him to the door, and he was obhged 
 reluctantly to depart. 
 
 Mr. Malham's injunctions were strictly obeyed. 
 Neither Mr. Radcliffe nor his nephew entered 
 the room occupied by the wounded man. Mrs. 
 Sutton remained with him all day, and attended 
 him with maternal solicitude. His ravings were 
 unheard by any one but herself. 
 
 Towards evenino; the fever began to abate.
 
 54 HILARY ST. IVES. 
 
 ni. 
 
 MRS. RADCLIFFE. 
 
 Mrs. Radcliffe was in her boudoir, wliere 
 she always passed the morning, and very often 
 the entire day. The room in which the invalid 
 lady spent so much time was charmingly fitted 
 up, the whole of the furniture being Parisian. 
 While elegance was studied, comfort was not 
 neglected. The boudoir was luxurious as well as 
 tasteful. So soft were the sofas and easy chairs, 
 that they seemed stuffed with eider-down. De- 
 licious little groups copied from Watteau, in
 
 HILARY ST. IVES. 55 
 
 Sevres china, and the prettiest of pendules, like- 
 wise of china, graced the chimney-piece, which 
 was covered with bkie velvet, and had curtain 
 screens of the same stuff to moderate the heat of 
 the fire. The skin of a superb tiger, which had 
 been shot in India by Captain Delacombe, lay 
 upon the heartli. Beautiful bronzes adorned the 
 pier-tables, and rare objects of art were displayed 
 in open cabinets. Choice water-colour pictm'es 
 added to the attractions m the room, and minia- 
 tures were hung on either side of the mantel- 
 piece. Rose-coloured curtains subdued the light, 
 and cast a warm glow on the pale cheeks of 
 the invaUd. The windows looked out upon the 
 garden, but Avere rarely opened, for Mrs. Radcliffe 
 could not endure a breath of air. As far as 
 possible an equable temperature was maintained, 
 but it was the temperature of a hothouse, or of 
 an Indian bimgalow. Mrs. Radchffe being a hot-
 
 5Q HILARY ST. lYES. 
 
 house plant, enjoyed this high temperature. Other 
 people, however, found it inconvenient, and Mr. 
 Radcliffe never remained in his wife's boudoir 
 more than ten minutes, without complaining of 
 headache. 
 
 The invalid and indolent lady of Hazlemere 
 passed her life in a pleasant di*eam, from which 
 she did not care to be aroused. She did not 
 desire rude health, which would have neces- 
 sitated exertion, and she disliked all exertion; 
 but she would fain have preserved her youth 
 and beauty. She took no exercise on foot. Oc- 
 casionally she drove out in tlie close carriage to 
 make a call; and when she went forth into the 
 garden, she was wheeled about in a Bath chair. 
 Yet she was really not quite so feeble as she 
 fancied herself. Owing to the great care taken 
 of her by Mrs. Sutton, her health was partially 
 restored. The pulmonary symptoms, that had
 
 HILARY ST. IVES. 57 
 
 once threatened her, had disappeared. But she 
 Hked to be considered deUcate. It served as an 
 excuse for her indolence. A great reader of 
 novels — French as well as English — her mind 
 was tinctui'ed by the class of literature to which 
 she was addicted, and wanted bracing as much 
 as her body. As we have shown, she troubled 
 herself as little as possible about household con- 
 cerns, and left the management of them entu'ely 
 to Mrs. Sutton. The nature of a person so con- 
 stituted could not be otherwise than intensely 
 selfish, yet she was amiable and good-natured 
 when not put out of the way. She was not a 
 tiresome, ever-complaining invalid. 
 
 At the time of her introduction to the reader, 
 Mrs. Radchffe was only just turned forty, and 
 still decidedly handsome, though her charms were 
 somewhat faded. Her blonde tresses had lost 
 their lustre, and acquired a pale ashy hue, but
 
 58 HILARY ST. IVES. 
 
 her complexion was still delicate, though perhaps 
 it derived a little of its bloom from art. Her 
 skill was free from wrinkles, her teeth good, and 
 her features retained their beautiful outline. Her 
 figure was thin, but graceful, and her hands and 
 feet might have served as models to a sculptor. 
 Above all, her eyes had lost little of their beauty 
 and tenderness of expression. How much she 
 was changed from the captivating and coquettish 
 Esther Thornton of former days, could be seen 
 by reference to a channing miniature by Sir 
 William Newton, placed near the chimney-piece. 
 She was not so lovely as that bright-eyed fair- 
 haired girl, but the expression of her features 
 was more agreeable. Faded as she was, Mrs. 
 Kadchffe was still very attractive, and might even 
 now have inspired a passion in the breast of 
 some romantic youth. In her husbaiid's eyes she 
 was quite as beautiful as when he wedded her.
 
 HILARY ST. IVES. 59 
 
 ISIrs. Raclcliffe had never loved her husband, 
 but she was not unliappy in her married life. 
 Mr. Eadcliffe was much older than herself, as 
 we are aware, but he was so fond of her, so 
 indulgent, so anxious to gratify her every whim, 
 that it was impossible not to like him. Then, 
 again, being so great an invalid, she could not 
 mix with society, and had no opportunity of flirt- 
 ing as a married woman, even if she had been 
 inclined to do so. Perhaps her feeble state of 
 health was rather a fortunate cu'cumstance for 
 Mr. Radcliffe. But if we must penetrate into 
 the secret recesses of her breast, we shall dis- 
 cover that she still noui'ished a tender feeling for 
 Captain Seymour Delacombe, who had been un- 
 doubted master of her heart. She had never, 
 however, seen him since her marriage. 
 
 Immediately after that event, he had gone out 
 to India, and had been there ever since ; but she
 
 60 HILARY ST. IVES. 
 
 had corresponded with him — of course, with her 
 husband's sanction. Seymour had sought death, 
 it appeared, in many a siege and sharp conflict, 
 but had not found it. On the contrary, he had 
 gained honour and promotion, and was now 
 Colonel Delacombe, C.B. 
 
 Mrs. Eadcliffe had watched his brilliant career 
 with great interest, but Avhat chiefly gratified her 
 was that he never married. When they parted, 
 twenty years ago, he had vowed, since he could 
 not be blessed with her, never to take another 
 to his breast. And he had kept his vow. 
 
 On that afilicting occasion he had given her 
 his miniature, which was now to be seen in the 
 boudoir, hung near the chimney-piece, on the 
 opposite side to her own. To judge from this 
 portrait, Seymour Delacombe must have been 
 exceedingly handsome, with fine dark eyes, a 
 dark complexion, and regular features, marked 
 by a very haughty expression. He was about
 
 HILARY ST. IVES. Gl 
 
 five-and-twenty at the time. It may seem strange 
 that Mr. RadclifTe should allow the portrait of 
 one whom he knew had been desperately in love 
 with his wife to hang up in her boudoir. He 
 did not altogether like to see the miniature, but 
 he wisely argued that it might as well be there, 
 as locked up in a drawer. 
 
 But if he disregarded this miniature, ISIrs. 
 Sutton had an unaccountable dislike to it. She 
 avoided looking at it, and never would admit that 
 she thought it the portrait of a handsome man. 
 
 " Ah ! you should have seen Seymour when 
 this was taken !" Mrs. Kadcliffe often exclaimed. 
 " You could not fail to have been struck by him. 
 He was thought the handsomest man of his 
 day." 
 
 Mrs. Sutton replied that he might be hand- 
 some, but she didn't like the expression of his 
 countenance. 
 
 Upon one occasion, however, when !Mrs. Ead-
 
 62 HILARY ST. IVES. 
 
 cliflFe entered the boudoir unexpectedly, she 
 caught the housekeeper gazing steadfastly at the 
 miniature. 
 
 Despite her habitual self-command, Mrs. Sutton 
 started when thus detected, her embarrassment 
 being increased by her mistress's raillery. 
 
 Mi^. Sutton had frequently — far too frequently 
 for her peace — to listen to Mrs. RadclifFe's de- 
 scription of her love-passages with Seymour Dela- 
 combe. The housekeeper manifested little in- 
 terest in these tender and touching details. Ap- 
 parently, she did not believe in the sincerity of 
 the gallant captain's passion, or in his vows of 
 eternal constancy, for she sometimes smiled rather 
 contemptuously when they were repeated. 
 
 " You look incredulous, Sutton," said her mis- 
 tress. " But you see he has never married." 
 
 " There may have been reasons for his not 
 marrying," remarked the housekeeper, dryly.
 
 HILARY ST. IVES. 63 
 
 "What reasons'?" cried the lady. "None — 
 save his vow to me." 
 
 The same shghtly contemptuous smile, that had 
 just before cm'led Mrs. Sutton's lip, again ap- 
 peared for an instant. 
 
 "You would do well, I think, to forget him," 
 she said. 
 
 " I cannot forget him," rejomed Mrs. RadclifFe. 
 
 Mi's. Sutton gave her a look, which it was 
 lucky the other did not understand. It was cer- 
 tainly not a look of sympathy. It was rather a 
 look of ill-concealed hate. Had not Mrs. Kad- 
 clifFe been occupied by her own thoughts, she 
 must have remarked it. 
 
 Mi's. Radcliffe, as we have said, was in her 
 charming boudoir, seated in a fauteuil, with her 
 tiny feet supported by a velvet tabouret. With 
 the help of a double eye-glass, of the most grace»- 
 ful workmanship, she was reading the Court
 
 64 HILARY ST. IVES. 
 
 Journal. She was dressed in a very becoming 
 deshabille, and seen in that subdued light, with 
 her back to the %\dndow, looked almost young. 
 However, there was no one to behold her, except 
 Annette, her lady's-maid, who was taking away 
 the breakfast-things. The invalid lady's break- 
 fast consisted of a cup of chocolate and a little 
 dry toast ; and she desired Annette, as the latter 
 left the room, to request Mrs. Sutton to come 
 to her immediately. For a wonder, she had not 
 seen the housekeeper during the whole of the 
 previous day, but she knew how she had been 
 occupied, and therefore excused her. Annette, 
 of course, delivered the message ; but Mrs. Sutton 
 was busy at the moment, and nearly an hour 
 elapsed before she complied with it. 
 
 Meanwhile, Mrs. Radcliffe had become im- 
 patient, and was just about to ring the bell, and 
 inquire what was the matter, when the house-
 
 HILARY ST. IVES. 65 
 
 keeper entered the room, looking graver than 
 usual. 
 
 "I ought to scold you, dear Sutton, for neglect- 
 ing me so shamefully," said Mrs. RadcHffe ; " but 
 you look so ill that I cannot find in my heart to 
 do so. I hear you have been sitting up for two 
 nights with this poor young man. You really 
 ought to consider yourself, and should have let 
 one of the men servants sit up with him. How 
 is he going on?" she added, with affected in- 
 terest. 
 
 " He is so much better this morning, that he 
 is able to get up. The fever is quite gone, and 
 Mr. Malham, who has just been to see him, says 
 he will be able to leave his room to-morrow." 
 
 "That's very satisfactory. I was afraid it might 
 be a tedious business. What a singular occur- 
 rence ! I never was more surprised than when I 
 learnt tliat Mr. Eadcliffe had brought a wounded 
 
 VOL. I. r
 
 66 HILARY ST. IVES. 
 
 young man home with him. He was influenced 
 by the kindest motives, no doubt ; but " 
 
 " Mr. RadcKffe acted for the best," interrupted 
 Mrs. Sutton. " I am very glad Mi\ St. Ives was 
 brought here. And I am sure you will be of the 
 same opinion." 
 
 "Well, perhaps I shall, especially if you are 
 pleased, Sutton. You must have had a great deal 
 of trouble with him. You look quite worn out." 
 
 "I am not in the least fatigued, and I should 
 not have left him so long as the fever lasted." 
 
 " You are the best of nurses. I have reason to 
 say so. You seem to take a special interest in 
 Mr. St. Ives. I don't wonder at it. Oswald tells 
 me he is a very fine young man." 
 
 "Mr. Oswald's description of him is perfectly 
 correct. But it is not on account of his good looks 
 that I am interested in him." 
 
 "Then you own the interest, and yet deny its 
 cause," remarked LIi's. Radchffe, smiling. " Had
 
 HILARY ST. IVES. 67 
 
 he been ill-looking you would have felt very 
 differently towards him. What is he like ?" 
 
 " I will show you who he is like," replied Mrs. 
 Sutton, pointing to the miniature of Captain 
 Delacombe. 
 
 " Like Seymour !" exclaimed Mrs. Radcliffe, so 
 surprised that her listlessness of manner at once 
 disappeared. " Like Seymour ! impossible ! You 
 are trifling with me, Sutton." 
 
 *' He is so like, that the miniature might be 
 taken for liim. Now you will understand why 
 I take a particular interest in him." 
 
 " What is it you would insinuate, Sutton ? 
 Don't agitate me, I entreat of you. You know 
 how unequal I am to the slightest excitement, and 
 such a thing as this might kill me. Give me a 
 few drops." 
 
 The housekeeper obeyed the order, remarking 
 as she did so, 
 
 F 2
 
 68 HILARY ST. IVES. 
 
 "I would not have mentioned the matter, hut 
 I feel certain the likeness will be noticed, and I 
 therefore judged it best to prepare you." 
 
 " Yes, I think Oswald must have noticed it, for 
 he said yesterday that Mr. St. Ives resembled 
 some one he had seen. He never saw Seymour, 
 of course; but he has seen his portrait. Wliat 
 a commotion you have raised in my breast, 
 Sutton ! Wliat a tumult of feelings you have 
 roused !" 
 
 " I want you to be calm, for I have something 
 to say to you." 
 
 " Something to say !" exclaimed Mrs. Radcliffe, 
 alarmed by the housekeeper's manner. " What is 
 it? Ha've you made a discovery in regard to 
 this young man's parentage? Have you any 
 reason to suspect — ha! Tell me! Don't keep 
 me in this distracting state of suspense ! Tell me 
 all, there's a dear, good creature."
 
 IIILAKY ST. IVES. 69 
 
 " I -won't speak, unless you keep quiet. I don't 
 think the hkeness can be accidental." 
 
 " You believe, then, that he is Seymour's son ?" 
 cried Mrs. Kadcliffe. " But no — no — no ! the 
 notion is too absurd to be indulged for a mo- 
 ment." 
 
 " Perhaps this signet-ring may afford some 
 evidence," said Mrs. Sutton, "I took it from 
 the dressing-table in his room, and brought it to 
 show you. Do you know Captain Delacombe's 
 armsf 
 
 " Yes ; three tigers' heads, with a hand grasping 
 a falchion for crest." 
 
 ]!klrs. Sutton gave her the ring, and begged her 
 to examine it. 
 
 " Yes, here they are ! here are the tigers' heads, 
 with the crest! This is proof indeed. lie imist 
 be Seymour's son. What age is the young 
 man?"
 
 70 HILARY ST. lYES. 
 
 " Between one and two-and-twenty, as near as 
 I can guess." 
 
 " Then he must have been born before Seymour 
 made love to me. He to whom I gave my heart 
 was false and perjured! — oh!" And she sank 
 back, exclaiming, " More di'ops, Sutton ! more 
 drops, or I shall expire !" 
 
 Suddenly she started up. 
 
 " A terrible thought suggests itself to me !" 
 she exclaimed. " Was Seymour married at the 
 time? Oh, if he was, he was forsworn indeed! 
 Tell me what you think, Sutton." 
 
 " I have no thought upon the subject," rejomed 
 the other, coldly. 
 
 "Do not spare my feelings. I can bear the 
 truth. Do you think he loas married ?" 
 
 " Well, then, since I must give an opinion upon 
 a point of which I can know nothing, I think he 
 was married."
 
 HILARY ST. IVES. 71 
 
 "Ah!" ejaculated the lady, with an hysterical 
 ciy. And she again sank back. 
 
 As soon as Mrs. KadcHffe's nervous attack, 
 which was rather severe while it lasted, was over, 
 she fixed her humid eyes on the housekeeper, who 
 was standing beside her with a smelling-bottle in 
 her hand, and said, 
 
 "I must see this young man, Sutton — this 
 Hilary St. Ives, as he calls liimself — I must satisfy 
 myself that he is the person we suppose. You 
 may be mistaken, for you have never seen his — 
 I mean, the original of the miniature. But it is 
 impossible /can be deceived. Seymom''s image is 
 graven on my heart." 
 
 Islrs. Sutton could scarcely hide her disgust. 
 
 "I do not think I am mistaken," she repHed. 
 " StiU, as I am wholly unacquainted with Captain 
 Delacombe, and can judge only of the likeness by 
 the portrait, I may be wrong. On all accounts^
 
 72 HILARY ST. IVES. 
 
 I think it most desirable that you should see the 
 young man ; but you must consider well whether 
 you are equal to the interview. It will not do to 
 exhibit emotion before him, such as you have just 
 displayed." 
 
 "I will not betray myself, depend upon it, 
 Sutton. I can see him and converse with him, 
 unmoved — even though he should prove " 
 
 " Well, then, we will go to his room. But first 
 allow me to put away that accusing j)ortrait. Its 
 disappearance may cause some remark, but better 
 that, than it should be examined just now by the 
 servants, or any one else." 
 
 So saying, without waiting for permission, she 
 took down the miniatm'e and locked it up in the 
 bureau, of which she possessed the key. 
 
 " You are sure you are quite equal to the 
 effort V she then added. 
 
 Mrs. Eadcliffe replied that she was quite sure,
 
 HILARY ST. IVES. 73 
 
 and immediately arose with a very unwonted dis- 
 play of ardour. Her sensibilities were really 
 aroused, and she was almost in a youthful flutter 
 of anxiety. 
 
 Before leaving the boudoir with the house- 
 keeper, she sui'veyed herself in the mirror, and 
 slightly arranged her toilette and her hair.
 
 74 HILARY ST. IVES. 
 
 IV. 
 
 THE INTERVIEW. 
 
 It was a very unusual thing indeed for the 
 invahd lady to leave her room at this hour, and 
 Annette, who chanced to be on the landing, 
 wondered to see her issue forth. 
 
 " Mrs. Sutton washes me to see Mr. St. Ives," 
 remarked Mrs. Kadcliffe, thinking it best to give 
 an explanation. 
 
 " The poor young gentleman is in the dressing- 
 room, me'm," replied Annette. " Boston has just 
 left him.'
 
 HILARY ST. IVES. 75 
 
 "I will go on first, if you please," said Mrs. 
 Sutton, stepping forward quickly towards the 
 further end of the corridor, where the chamber 
 they sought was situated. 
 
 Hilary had left his bed an hour ago. Boston, 
 the valet, had brought him a change of linen, with 
 several articles of apparel, furnished by good- 
 natured Oswald Woodcot, and had assisted to 
 dress him. 
 
 Mi's. Sutton's first business was to lay the 
 signet-ring on the dressing-table. Hilary had not 
 missed it. 
 
 The young man was reclining on a couch, 
 wrapped in a di'essing-go"v\ai. As may naturally 
 be expected, he looked very pale, but this did not 
 impair his good looks, but rather lent interest to 
 his countenance. 
 
 Notwithstanding her boasted firmness, Mrs. 
 Kadclifie well-nigh betrayed herself by a scream,
 
 76 HILARY ST. IVES. 
 
 and the housekeeper, perceiving her agitation, 
 stepped between her and the young man to give 
 her time to recover. Hilaiy had raised himself 
 on her entrance, and when informed that the lady 
 of the house had come to inquire after him, he 
 expressed his sense of her kindness in suitable 
 terms. 
 
 Not only was the face Seymour's, but the voice 
 and manner were Seymour's. Mrs. Radcliffe 
 thought she beheld her old lover again. No 
 doubt it was a trying moment, and it is really 
 wonderful that she maintained her self-possession 
 at all. 
 
 But what shall we say of ]\Irs. Sutton ? Could 
 the mingled feeHngs with which she looked on be 
 discerned in her countenance ? Not in the least. 
 To all outward appearance she was perfectly calm. 
 Perhaps she was secretly well pleased by the effect 
 produced upon her mistress by Hilary.
 
 HILARY ST. IVES. 77 
 
 On liis part, the young man was most favour- 
 ably impressed by the lady, though quite unable 
 to account for the interest she evidently took in 
 him. He thought her very handsome, and singu- 
 larly kind and agreeable in manner. She put 
 several questions to him calculated to elicit infor- 
 mation as to his history and position in life, but he 
 was very guarded in his answers, and she could 
 only ascertain that he had been brought up at 
 Exeter, and had recently been in France, and that 
 his nearest living relative — he did not say his 
 father — was in India. 
 
 On all points he maintained great reserve. 
 
 He did not even explain the business that had 
 brought him into this jxirt of the country, though 
 he lamented the loss of his papers. 
 
 At last, !Mrs. Radcliffe mustered courage to put 
 a question to him which she had all along been 
 dying to ask.
 
 78 HILARY ST. IVES. 
 
 He had said liis nearest relative was in India. 
 Was his mother still alive ? 
 
 The question saddened him. She was dead. 
 
 Mrs. Radcliffe was sorry to have asked the 
 question. But she ventured to inquire fm'ther 
 if his mother had been dead long ? 
 
 She died many years ago — during his infancy 
 — he did not even remember her. He had never 
 kno-\m a mother's care. 
 
 These words, which caused a sharp pang in 
 Mrs. Sutton's breast, and made her put her hand 
 to her heart, gave immense relief to IVIi's. Rad- 
 cliffe. Seymour was not the traitor she had 
 deemed him. She glanced at the housekeeper, 
 but was struck by her expression of pain, and 
 inquired anxiously what was the matter. It was 
 only a slight spasm. 
 
 " I am the cause of your illness, I fear," said 
 Hilary. " You have been watching by me for 
 two nights."
 
 HILARY ST. IVES. 79 
 
 "No, it is not that. I am accustomed to 
 nursing. But I have not been very well of late. 
 It is gone." And slie forced a rather ghastly 
 smile, adding, " I have only performed the office 
 which your mother would have discharged had she 
 been living." 
 
 "No mother could have watched over a son 
 more carefully than you have watched over me," 
 said Hilary, with a deeply grateful look. " Nay, 
 when my fever was at its height, I thought you 
 were my mother come to life again, and stand- 
 ing beside me." 
 
 " You were delii'ious for a time," ISIi's. Sutton 
 hastened to remark, " and rambled strangely." 
 
 "Yes, I suppose I did. Without you I am 
 certain my cure would not have been so soon 
 accomplished. My strength has almost returned. 
 To-morrow," he added to Mrs. Eadcliffe, " I hope 
 I shall be able to relieve you of any further
 
 80 HILARY ST. IVES. 
 
 trouble respecting me. I shall never forget the 
 kindness I have experienced." 
 
 "You must not think of leaving us till you 
 are perfectly recovered. Besides, to-morrow is 
 my daughter May's birthday, and she has always 
 a little fete on the occasion, at which I hope 
 you may be well enough to assist." 
 
 "If Mr. St. Ives keeps perfectly quiet to-day, 
 I have no doubt he wiU be able to come down- 
 stairs to-morrow," observed Mrs. Sutton; "but 
 he overrates his strength." 
 
 "You hear that," observed Mrs. EadcHffe. 
 " You are not yet dismissed as cured." 
 
 "I am in too good quarters to feel any anxiety 
 to leave them," rejoined Hilary. " I need scarcely 
 say that it would delight me to be presented to 
 ISIiss Radcliffe, but " 
 
 "I will take no refusal. I shall be hurt if 
 you leave to-morrow, and so will ]\ir. KadcHffe.
 
 HILARY ST. IVES. 81 
 
 You arc his guest, you know. Unless you have 
 some particular reason for early departure, stay 
 with us a few clays to recruit." 
 
 "The invitation is so kindly given, and is in 
 itself so tempting, that I must accept it. I 
 cannot offer the excuse of business. Since I 
 have lost my papers, I have really nothing to do." 
 
 ''It is too soon to despair of recovering them. 
 They will turn up again, I have no doubt. And 
 now you will understand that you are to make 
 yom'self quite at home. !Mi's. Sutton will take 
 every care of you." 
 
 " That I will," said the housekeeper, smiling. 
 
 The arrangement was precisely what she de- 
 sired. 
 
 " I feel as if I were in a dream — and a very 
 pleasant dream it is !" cried Hilary. " All sorts 
 of strange fancies possess me," he added, gazing 
 alternately at ^Ii's. Radcliffe and the housekeeper. 
 
 VOL. I. G
 
 82 HILARY ST. IVES. 
 
 " Your brain is still a little heated, I perceive," 
 said the lady. 
 
 " Yes," observed Mrs. Sutton, signifying by a 
 glance that they had better withdraw. 
 
 Mrs. Kadcliffe, therefore, rose to depart, but 
 before she left the room, she said, 
 
 " I hope you will be able to join the breakfast- 
 party to-morrow, ]\Ir. St. Ives. I will tell May 
 that she may expect to see you." 
 
 " I will come, if my kuid nurse will allow me," 
 he replied. 
 
 " What do you think of him ?" inquired Mrs. 
 Sutton, as they retm'ned to the boudou'. 
 
 "He is the very image of Seymour. I did 
 not venture to question him about his father ; 
 but I am sure he is Seymour's son. I think I 
 did right to ask him to stay. The impulse was 
 irresistible." 
 
 " You couldn't have done otherwise."
 
 HILARY ST. IVES. 83 
 
 " I am glad you think so. Do you know, 
 Sutton, I almost felt towards him as if he were 
 my own son." 
 
 " The feeling was not unnatural. I am sure 
 he is sensible of the interest you take in him." 
 
 " He seemed so. I shall never be able to part 
 with him." 
 
 Mrs. Sutton smiled. The right eflfect had been 
 produced. 
 
 '' Perhaps he has been neglected by his father 
 from some cause," she remarked, "and you may 
 be the means of setting him right. Who 
 knows ?" 
 
 " His coming here looks like fatality," said !Mrs. 
 Radcliffe, who had become unusually pensive. 
 "We shall learn more of liis history in time, 
 and then I will consider how to act. Try to 
 find out if he wants anything, Sutton. I am 
 afraid he is poor." 
 
 G 2
 
 84 HILARY ST. IVES. 
 
 "I am afraid so. But unless I am mistaken 
 in him, he is too proud to accept assistance." 
 
 " Still, we may help him. Something may be 
 done. I tell you I feel like a mother towards 
 him." 
 
 "That is clear; and he could not scruple to 
 receive a mother's aid. But it would be difficult 
 to make this intelligible to him. However, I will 
 do my best to carry out your wishes. I suppose 
 you will breakfast with the party to-morrow f 
 
 "I shall make an effort to do so — on his 
 account." 
 
 " You promised to have a little conversation 
 with Mr. Eadchffe about Mr. Oswald's 'suit." 
 
 « I did. But I think I shall defer it. There 
 is no hmTy. Mr. Radcliffe does not like the 
 subject, as you are aware." 
 
 " I promised Mr. Oswald to remind you." 
 
 "I did not require to be reminded. But I
 
 HILARY ST. IVES. 85 
 
 shall have too much to do to-morrow to attend 
 to the matter. To be plain, I want to ascertain 
 what May thinks of young St. Ives before I 
 stir further in Oswald's favour. Perhaps, she 
 may like him." 
 
 Mrs. Sutton secretly exulted, but was careful 
 to hide her exultation. 
 
 " I do not think May cares much for her 
 cousin," she remarked. 
 
 " You appeared to think otherwise a few days 
 ago. Have you altered your opinion ?" 
 
 "I am still as favourable as ever to Mr. 
 Oswald's suit. But I repeat I do not think May 
 cares much about him." 
 
 " I am glad to learn that her heart is dis- 
 engaged. That leaves me free to act. When 
 you go down-stairs send her to me." 
 
 "Pray be careful what you say to her, or 
 you may do mischief."
 
 8Q HILARY ST. IVES. 
 
 " Don't fear me. I shall talk to her chiefly 
 about young St. Ives. She is curious about him. 
 She saw him when he was brought into the 
 house, and was interested by his appearance."^ 
 
 Shortly afterwards !Mi's. Sutton quitted her 
 mistress, and sent May to her, as desired.
 
 HILARY ST. IVES. 
 
 87 
 
 V. 
 
 'mat and her mothek. 
 
 A SWEET musical voice in the passage. The 
 door opened, and May entered the boudoir, bear- 
 ing a little basket of flowers. Flora herself could 
 not have looked more fresh and bloommg. 
 
 She had just been summoned from the garden 
 by Mrs. Sutton, and had not taken off the dainty 
 httle straw hat with which her blonde tresses 
 were crowned. Wliat a winsome smile upon her 
 rosy lips. And what pearls those lips revtaled. 
 
 Mrs. Eadchffe regarded her with pride, not
 
 88 HILAEY ST. lYES. 
 
 unmingled with a slight feeling of envy. Her 
 owai faded charms suffered sadly by contrast 
 with those of her lovely daughter. 
 
 " Good morrow, dearest mamma," cried May, 
 kissing her affectionately. " I hope you are quite 
 well this morning. You look so. I have brought 
 you a few flowers. Oh ! it is such an enchanting 
 day. There has been a slight shower — the last 
 shower of April — and now the sun is shining so 
 brightly, and the birds are singing so blithely, 
 and everything is looking so deliciously spring- 
 like. Do let me persuade you to take a turn 
 in the garden. You will enjoy it so much, and 
 I am sure it will do you good. Shut up in this 
 close room you can have no idea of the beauty 
 and freshness of the morning. Oh ! how I long 
 to open the window." 
 
 " On no account," said Mrs. Radcliffe, check- 
 ing her. " The air is far too chilly for me. At
 
 HILARY ST. IVES. 89 
 
 your age I delighted in a walk on a fine spring 
 day like this, but now I am a poor invalid, and 
 must be content with my boudoir. Thank you 
 for these flowers, my love. They are very beau- 
 tiful, but the odour of these jonquils is too strong 
 to be agreeable. Put the basket aside, please. 
 Now, come and sit near me, and let us talk." 
 
 May obeyed, drew a chair towards her mother, 
 and fixed her large blue eyes inquiringly upon her. 
 
 " To-morrow is the first of May," said Mrs. 
 Eadcliffe, taking her hand. " To-morrow you 
 will be nineteen, the brightest and happiest season 
 in a woman's existence — at least, it is generally so 
 considered, though in my own instance it proved 
 otherwise. At nineteen I was far from happy." 
 She sighed, and then added, " But I am sure 
 you are happy, darling." 
 
 " Indeed I am, dearest mamma — truly happy. 
 I have not a wish uneratified."
 
 90 HILARY ST. IVES. 
 
 "Not one?" asked her mother. "Take care, 
 I am about to catechise you. But before I 
 begin I will make a little confession which may 
 encourage you to deal frankly with me. It may 
 make you smile, but I shall not smile at any 
 avowal it may elicit from you. Don't interrupt 
 me. At nineteen — I may say it now, since I am 
 an old woman — I was very much admu'ed, and 
 I am afraid you will think I must have been 
 excessively silly when I own that I was pleased 
 with the admii'ation I excited. I was thought 
 a great flirto I see you are beginning to laugh 
 already, and you have a perfect right to do so, 
 for you are entirely free from the faults Avhich 
 I have just admitted." 
 
 " Dear mamma, I am not laughing," remarked 
 May, trying to look grave. 
 
 " Listen to me," resumed Mrs. Radcliffe. 
 "Amongst my host of admirers there was only
 
 HILARY ST. IVES. 91 
 
 one who really interested me, and before I was 
 aware of it he had contrived to win my heart. 
 Your grandpapa, who was resolved that I should 
 never, with his consent, marry any other than a 
 man of fortune, forbade me to think of the 
 person on whom I had foolishly fixed my affec- 
 tions. Ah ! what a struggle it cost me to obey. 
 Kecollect that this was at nmeteen — your own 
 age, darHng. I had no tender mother into whose 
 pitying breast I could pour my grief. Sjonpathy 
 from my father I had none." 
 
 Here she paused for a few moments, over- 
 powered by her recollections. 
 
 " Of course," she continued, " all has turned 
 out for the best. I was veiy silly then. Your 
 grandpapa — stern as I deemed him — was quite 
 right, and I Avas quite wrong. But I did not 
 think so at the time — and I was wretched. 
 Now, my dear child," she added, looking into
 
 92 HILARY ST. IVES. 
 
 her daughter's face, "you vnll not, after this 
 confession, withhold your confidence from me. 
 You are not circumstanced as I was, darling. 
 Your papa will never oppose your inclinations — 
 nor will I. We both love you tenderly. You 
 are not a flirt — but a pretty girl, with a good 
 fortune, rmist have admirers. I had no fortune. 
 If you have a preference for any of yom* pre- 
 tendants — as I fancy you have — do not hesitate 
 to avow it." 
 
 " Really, dear mamma," replied May, who had 
 listened with some sui'prise to this address, "I 
 scarcely know how to answer you. It would be 
 ridiculous in me to pretend I am not aM'are that 
 some young men who come here do pay me atten- 
 tion. But I have never thought seriously about 
 any of them." 
 
 " But there is a young man who is in the house 
 —what of him?"
 
 HILARY ST. IVES. 93 
 
 "Make yourself quite easy, dear mamma. I 
 have not lost my heart to cousin Oswald." 
 
 "Cousin Oswald — or I am very much mistaken 
 — thinks otherwise." 
 
 " So he may — so, perhaps, he does — but he is a 
 silly fellow so to delude himself. I like Oswald. 
 He has excellent quaUties, and a disposition that 
 might attach any one to him. I know he is 
 devoted to me ; but for all that I cannot love him 
 — except as a cousin. There, mamma, do you now 
 imderstand "?" 
 
 "Perfectly, my love," replied Mrs. Eadcliffe, 
 dissembling her satisfaction. " I am rather soiTy 
 for poor Oswald." 
 
 "Yes, I am sometimes sony for him myself. 
 But what am I to do ? How am I to cm'e him 
 without giving him pain ? Whenever I am about 
 to speak seriously to him, he looks at me so im- 
 ploringly that I cannot find in my heart to cmsh
 
 94 HILARY ST. IVES. 
 
 his hopes altogether. So we go on. He follows 
 me about like papa's great water-spaniel, Neptune, 
 and I treat him much as I treat Neptune. I 
 believe if I were to throw a stick into the lake, 
 and bid Oswald fetch it, he would plunge in at 
 once as readily as Neptune." 
 
 And she laughed heartily at the notion. 
 
 Mrs. Radcliffe smiled secretly, but remarked, 
 " I am shocked to hear you compare yom' good- 
 natured and devoted cousin to a water-spaniel." 
 
 " I am a friend to dogs, for they are honest 
 creatures, as Pierre says in the play, mamma. 
 Oswald is as honest and good a creature as ever 
 lived, and has the fidelity and attachment of a 
 dog, so I think the comparison is not so very 
 inappropriate. Have you finished your cate- 
 chism?" 
 
 " Quite ; I find I shall have nothing to say to 
 your papa on your birthday."
 
 HILARY ST. IVES. 95 
 
 " Papa won't be soiTy for that, I think," re- 
 marked the young lady, archly. 
 
 "Well, let us change the topic, my love. I 
 have just been to see poor Mr. St. Ives. Thanks 
 to Mrs. Sutton's care, he has almost recovered 
 from the injm'ies he received from the robbers. 
 All the circumstances attending his arrival here 
 are so singular that my curiosity has been greatly 
 excited about him." 
 
 "So has mine, mamma. Tell me what he is 
 like, in the first place ?" 
 
 " You saw him when he was brought into the 
 house, and can judge of his appearance." 
 
 " True ; but he looked so dreadfully pale then. 
 I thought him dying. He appeared to be very 
 handsome." 
 
 " He has quite what the French call ' Fair cVun 
 grand seigneur.^ I was very much struck, I assure 
 you, and from the first moment felt an interest in
 
 96 HILARY ST. IVES. 
 
 him, for which I find it difficult to account. This 
 sort of thing is very unusual with me, for I rarely 
 take an interest in a perfect stranger. But Mr. 
 St. Ives is not an ordinary person." 
 
 *'He seems a very mysterious person, mamma. 
 Papa and Oswald can tell me nothing about him. 
 Have you learnt any particulars ?" 
 
 " The principal features of his history, so far as 
 I can ascertain them, are these : He has been 
 brought up at Exeter, and has recently been in 
 France, where I fancy he has relatives. He lost 
 his mother in infancy ; and his father, I believe — 
 for this is mere surmise on my part — is in India." 
 
 " How came he to be crossing Wootton Heath 
 on the night when he was robbed ? " 
 
 " He seems to have been on his way to town, 
 and had with him, in his knapsack, some im- 
 portant documents, of which, unluckily, he has 
 been deprived by the robbers."
 
 HILARY ST. IVES. 97 
 
 " So I heard," cried May. " I want to know 
 what those documents relate to." 
 
 " Then you must suspend your curiosity till to- 
 morrow, when you will prohably see him, and can 
 question him, if you think proper. If he is able 
 to do so, he will come down to breakfast in the 
 morning. I took care to tell him that it is an 
 interesting anniversary." 
 
 " The anniversary can have no interest to him," 
 observed May. 
 
 " Pardon me, my love ; he was much flattered 
 by being allowed to join the family party on such 
 an occasion." 
 
 At this moment the door was partially opened, 
 and a good-humoured, good-looking face was seen 
 at it. 
 
 The face was Oswald's. He asked if he might 
 come in. 
 
 VOL. I. H
 
 98 HILAEY ST. IVES. 
 
 VI. 
 
 OSAVALD. 
 
 Receiving permission, he slmt the door and 
 advanced, but his aunt motioned him to keep 
 off. 
 
 "You have been smoking, Oswald. Give him 
 some eau-de-Cologne, ISIay." 
 
 Instantly retiring, Oswald took a seat on a 
 causeuse on the opposite side of the fireplace. 
 
 Undoubtedly, he was a very handsome young 
 fellow, tall, well built, and well set on his lower 
 limbs, which, as he wore knickerbockers, could be
 
 HILAllY ST. IVES. 99 
 
 seen to be remarkably -svell turned. He had an 
 open countenance, brown curling locks, whiskers 
 a few shades lighter than his hair, and brushed 
 back according to the prevailing mode, regular 
 features, light grey eyes, and a fresh complexion, 
 denoting the most perfect health. Not, perhaps, 
 a very intellectual face, but a very pleasant one, 
 nevertheless. Considering his personal advantages 
 and his devotion, it is rather surprising that May 
 should care so little about him. 
 
 "AYhat has brought you here, Oswald?" in- 
 quired his aunt. 
 
 "I have a piece of news for you," he replied. 
 " I have just got a letter from my mother. Who 
 do you think is coming here to-morrow ?" 
 
 " Your mother !" cried Mrs. Eadcliffe. 
 
 " I hope so," added May. " I shall be delighted 
 to see her." 
 
 " No," rejoined Oswald, laughing. " Your 
 H 2
 
 100 HILARY ST. lYES. 
 
 grandpapa Is coining. Perhaps you won't be quite 
 so delighted to see /ifm." 
 
 Exclamations of sui'prise were uttered both by 
 mamma and daughter. 
 
 Oswald easily perceived, from the expression of 
 his aunt's face, that the intelligence was not alto- 
 gether agreeable to her. At any other time she 
 would have been glad to see her father; but at 
 this particular juncture, when Hilary St. Ives 
 was in the house, and when she had a little 
 project on foot in regard to him, the shrewd and 
 suspicious old gentleman was very likely to be 
 in the way, and might interfere with her plan. 
 Besides, he had known Seymour Delacombe inti- 
 mately in days gone by, and would naturally 
 be struck by the likeness borne to him by Hilary. 
 These reflections passed rapidly tlirough her mind, 
 and gave to her covmtenance the expression 
 noticed by Oswald. 
 
 "I wonder your grandpapa has not written to
 
 HILAEY ST. IVES. 101 
 
 me to announce his intention," she observed, in 
 
 a tone that showed she was a little put out. 
 
 "He felt sure he would be welcome, as he 
 will be, mamma," said May. "It is long since 
 
 dear grandpapa has paid us a visit. I am glad 
 
 he is coming at last." 
 
 " Yes ; I only wish he had deferred his visit 
 for a week," objected her mother. "Poor ^Ir. 
 St. Ives has got his room, and, as you know, 
 your grand})apa is very particulai', and won't be 
 satisfied with any other room than the one he is 
 accustomed to." 
 
 "Why shouldn't he have it?" cried Oswald. 
 " St. Ives must turn out. Luckily he's well 
 enouo-h, or will be well enough to-morrow to 
 take his departure." 
 
 " I've asked him to stay here for a week to 
 recruit," said Mrs. Radcliffe, in a tone of rebuke. 
 " Sutton will find him another room." 
 
 " Very kind of you indeed, aunt," said Oswald,
 
 102 HILARY ST. IVES. 
 
 a little abashed, and secretly wishing that the 
 young man had never got into the house at all. 
 
 " Have the robbers been caught, Oswald ? Has 
 Mr. St. Ives's knapsack been recovered?" inquired 
 May. 
 
 "No. Wormald, the police-officer, has just 
 been here. Still at fault, though he is not with- 
 out hopes of capturing the gipsies ; for he thinks 
 they are concealed in the neighbourhood. Poor 
 St. Ives, I fear, has said good-bye to his precious 
 documents." 
 
 "Apparently, they are a great loss to him," 
 observed May, in a sympathising tone. 
 
 "If he wants them back he ought to offer a 
 jolly good reward for them," cried Oswald. " But 
 I say, aunt, what has become of the miniature 
 that used to hang up there ? I mean the portrait 
 of " 
 
 Seeing; from his aunt's looks that he had
 
 HILARY ST. IVES. 103 
 
 asked the -v^Tong question, lie stopped short, 
 though he had some observations to make. 
 
 *' You have no l)usiness to be so inquisitive, 
 sir," said Mrs. Kadcliffe, in a tone calculated to 
 check further remarks on the subject, and it had 
 the effect desired. 
 
 " Aunt Bell, I trust, gives a good account of 
 herself ?" interposed May, coming to the rescue. 
 
 " You shall see her letter," he replied, giving 
 it to her. 
 
 "What a very long letter! Must I read it 
 aloud f she inquired. 
 
 " By all means," he replied, with affected non- 
 chalance. " There are no secrets in it. It 
 relates chiefly to yourself. I ought, perhaps, to 
 have kept it back till to-morrow — but no matter." 
 
 May then read as follows : 
 
 "Your time seems to have been so fully and
 
 104 HILARY ST. IVES. 
 
 agreeably occupied, you dear, undutiful boy, that 
 you appear not to have had a moment to spare 
 for your poor mother, who lias been anxiously 
 expecting a letter from you for the last fort- 
 night, and has been doomed to constant dis- 
 appointment. After so prolonged a silence you 
 ought to have something pleasant to communicate. 
 
 " Yom* last letter, now nearly three weeks old 
 — think of that, sir! — was full of rapturous de- 
 scriptions of May — as if I didn't know how 
 lovely and amiable she is — and the impression it 
 conveyed, whether designed or not on your part, 
 is that you have fallen in love with your charming 
 cousin." 
 
 " I think I had better not read any more,"^ said 
 May, stopping. 
 
 " Oh yes, pray go on," Oswald entreated. 
 
 "I shall not be surprised if it turns out to be 
 so, for it is scarcely possible to be constantly in
 
 HILARY ST. IVES. 105 
 
 the society of so adorable a creature as May with- 
 out becoming passionately enamoured of her. 
 Such, at least, is my notion. And I remember 
 the time Avhen your aunt, who was quite as pretty 
 as May now is, could not avoid making conquests 
 of all who came near her." 
 
 " Wliat do you think of that, mamma ?" asked 
 May, pausing. " I hope you are flattered." 
 
 Gross as it was, the flattery w^as not a whit 
 too strong for ISIrs. Radcliffe. But she said, 
 
 " I wonder your Aunt Bell could write so silly 
 a letter. But let us hear it out." 
 
 "I think I have divined your secret, my dear 
 boy, but you do not throw any light on a point 
 that is naturally of the utmost interest to me. 
 You tell me you are May's constant companion, 
 in her walks, in her rides, in her drives. You 
 say she sings and plays so divinely, that you could 
 listen to her for ever. You say you act as her
 
 106 HILARY ST. IVES. 
 
 head-gardener, and %yould act as her groom if she 
 would let you ; and you mention several other 
 particulars that prove how devoted you are to 
 her ; but you do 7iot tell me the one thing I most 
 desire to know. You do not even hint that your 
 charming cousin, Avith whom you ai'e evidently 
 smitten, manifests the slightest predilection for 
 you." 
 
 Here Oswald coughed slightly. May, however, 
 would not raise her eyes from the letter to look 
 at him, but went on. 
 
 "A mother's vanity may mislead me, but I 
 cannot think, from the opportunities she has of 
 knowing them, that May can be insensible to 
 your many good qualities; or, shall I say it? — 
 indfferent to yom* personal advantages. I fondly 
 persuade myself that the attachment must be 
 mutual. You have a noble and tnie heart, my 
 dear boy, if you have not the cleverest head in
 
 HILARY ST. IVES. 107 
 
 the world. In some respects, and these not the 
 least important to her happiness, May will not 
 find your superior. That I can affirm. I have 
 long entertained the idea that you are formed for 
 each other. Heaven grant you may be united !" 
 
 " Amen !" ejaculated Oswald, fervently. 
 
 "Is there much more?" inquired Mrs. Rad- 
 cliffe. 
 
 " Yes, a good deal, mamma." 
 
 " Pray stop, if you have had enough," said 
 Oswald. 
 
 But May went on. 
 
 " As I cannot divest myself of the impression, 
 that you and your fair cousin will make a match 
 of it (or, as your Aunt Radcliffe used to say, when 
 a girl, ' put up your horses in the same stable'), I 
 have written to your grandpapa to press him to 
 make a settlement upon you. He is very rich, 
 and lives so inexpensively, that a few thousands
 
 108 HILARY ST. IVES. 
 
 can he no object whatever to liim. You are cer- 
 tain to be liis heir ; but he is hale and hearty, 
 and has such a capital constitution, that he may, 
 and I sincerely hope, vill, last for several years. 
 May is a great favourite with him, and since 
 there is every prospect of your being united to 
 her, I feel pretty sure he will place you in an 
 independent position, and remove any obstacles 
 that mio;ht otherwise arise on that score. As he 
 is as punctual as the Duke of Wellington used to 
 be, and sure to reply without delay, I won't send 
 off this letter till I hear from him." 
 
 " Has she got his answer ?" inquired Mrs, Ead- 
 clifFe. 
 
 " Yes, dear aunt, yes," replied Oswald, eagerly. 
 " Do finish the letter, May." 
 
 " I told you I should not be kept long in 
 suspense. To my great surprise, and no less to 
 my delight, youi' grandpapa has answered my
 
 HILAKY ST. lYES. 109 
 
 letter in person, and is now with me at Dunham 
 Lodge. He is in very good humour, and ap- 
 parently much pleased with the idea of the match. 
 He won't make any positive promise, but I think 
 he will do what we desire. That he means to do 
 something is certain, for he has determined to 
 start for Hazlemere House at once, and ascertain 
 by personal inspection, as he says, ' how the land 
 lies.' 
 
 " To-morrow he Avill be in town, and stay at the 
 Langham Hotel, and on the following morning, 
 1st of May, will rini down to Hazlemere. He is 
 an odd man, as your aunt knows full well, and 
 his design is to take her by surprise ; but I think 
 she ought to be prepared for his visit. 
 
 " It now only remains for me, in concluding this 
 long letter, to wish dearest ISIay many, many 
 happy returns of her birthday. ^lay the day 
 prove auspicious ; and a long and blissful term, in
 
 110 HILARY ST. IVES. 
 
 which she and yon will be principally concerned, 
 date from it. How proud and happy your mother 
 will be, if her fond anticipations are realised." 
 
 "That is aU," observed May, putting down the 
 letter. 
 
 " And enough too," said her mother. 
 
 Small need, we think, to state that Mrs. Wood- 
 cot's letter was meant to be shown to !Mrs. Rad- 
 cliffe and May, but that clever lady never sup- 
 posed her son would allow it to be read under 
 such absurd circumstances as those recorded. The 
 comical intonation given by JNIay to certain pas- 
 sages, on which he had most relied, entirely 
 destroyed their effect, and before the letter was 
 ended, he perceived the mistake he had made, 
 and became very hot and confused. Not knowing 
 what to say, he cast one of those imploring 
 looks, to which she was accustomed, at his fair 
 cousin ; but she was not to be moved now.
 
 HILARY ST. IVES. Ill 
 
 At last he stammered out, " I should never 
 have ventured upon a declaration, if I had not 
 been prompted by that unlucky letter. But do 
 let me leam my fate." 
 
 " Your fate is not in my hands," replied May. 
 " I have no other answer to give to such a ques- 
 tion. What can you have been saying about me 
 to Aunt Bell to cause her to write to grandpapa 
 as she has done? You have placed me in a 
 very ridiculous position." 
 
 "I will ask pardon on my bended knees, if 
 that will soften you," he cried, about to suit the 
 action to the word. 
 
 "Remain where you are, sir. I cannot treat 
 this as a jest. Grandpapa is coming. How is 
 he to be undeceived ? " 
 
 " I don't know," rejoined Oswald, driven to 
 his wits' end. "But, upon my honour, I had no 
 idea my mother would write to him, still less that
 
 112 HILARY ST. IVES. 
 
 the old gentleman would come here to perplex 
 us." 
 
 " No, you could not possibly foresee that, 
 Oswald," observed his aunt. " Your mother 
 should not have been so precipitate. But I un- 
 derstand her feelings, and can excuse her. You 
 must make allowances for Oswald, May. It 
 was natural that he should delude liimself." 
 
 " Thank you, aunt, thank you," he cried, 
 gratefully. " I certainly believed — that is, I 
 fancied May was not quite indifferent to me." 
 
 " Perhaps I have been to blame," said May, 
 relenting. " You are not the only person who 
 has been deceived by my manner," she added, 
 glancing archly at her mother. "So take my 
 forgiveness." 
 
 And she extended her hand towards him, 
 which he pressed eagerly to his lips. 
 
 " I suspect she loves him, in spite of her denial," 
 thouo-ht Mrs. Kadcliffe.
 
 HILARY ST. IVES. 113 
 
 " I hope grandpapa's errand won't be altogether 
 fruitless," said May. " INIamma, you must try 
 and persuade him to do something for poor 
 Oswald." 
 
 "Nay, my love, it rests with you, and not 
 with me. On one condition, no doubt your grand- 
 papa will do something." 
 
 " But that condition I cannot agree to," she 
 rejoined. 
 
 " Ah !" exclaimed Oswald, despairingly. " Don't 
 trouble yourselves about me," he added, with a 
 broken-hearted expression. "I care for nothing 
 now. I shall go abroad. I don't know what I 
 shall do. But I shall not remain longer here." 
 
 " Not if I beg you to stay ? " said May, in a 
 coaxing tone that was quite irresistible. 
 
 " I will do whatever you bid me," he replied, 
 with the submission of a slave. 
 
 " Then I order you to remain over my birth- 
 
 VOT.. I. I
 
 114 HILARY ST. IVES. 
 
 day," she said. "You shall go when you please 
 afterwards." 
 
 Just then an interruption was offered by the 
 entrance of !Mr. Radcliffe, who came in quest of 
 Oswald. 
 
 "I thought I should find you here," he said, 
 clapping his nephew on the shoulder as he ad- 
 vanced to greet his wife, whom he had not seen 
 before on that morning.
 
 HILARY ST. IVES. 115 
 
 VII. 
 
 MR. RADCLIFFE. 
 
 Mr. Radcliffe was turned sixty, rather above 
 the middle size, and had the portly figure and 
 larse features which Punch is wont to assimi to 
 John Bull. He looked the picture of good health, 
 and, though stout, he was active, and took a great 
 deal of exercise, living as much as he could in 
 the open air. He wore rather large whiskers, 
 which, with his snow-white locks, contrasted 
 forcibly Avith his rosy complexion. He did not 
 wear the traditional John Bull top-boots, but his 
 I 2
 
 116 HILARY ST. IVES. 
 
 sturdy legs were clothed in a pair of ^Ir. Bowley's 
 incomparable cool gaiters. He had a loose blue 
 coat with brass buttons, and a baggy waistcoat. 
 Mr. Radcliffe's manner towards his wife was 
 singularly deferential, and it was evident she had 
 lost none of her influence over him. Years had 
 in no degree diminished his admiration of her 
 beauty. 
 
 Mrs. Radcliffe thought it best to let him know 
 immediately that her father was coming on the 
 following day, and though much surprised, he was 
 greatly pleased by the intelligence. The difficulty 
 in regard to the room in which Hilary St. Ives 
 was lodged at once occurred to him, as it had done 
 to his wife. But this was soon got over. 
 
 All being settled, Mr. Kadcliffe chuckled, and 
 rubbed his hands with satisfaction at the thought 
 of seeing his father-in-law, whom he liked veiy 
 much.
 
 HILARY ST. IVES. 117 
 
 "I must get out some of my '20 port for liim," 
 he cried, smacking liis lips. " He "will want a 
 glass of it to drink your health, May, and so shall 
 I — ha ! ha ! " And he laughed, his resonant 
 laugh. " Oswald must drink it in claret, since 
 he can't stand port. By-the-by, I had. forgotten 
 what I came about," addressing his nephew. 
 " Mrs. Sutton wants to go to Guildford on some 
 business of her own. You must drive her in the 
 dog-cart to the Gomshall station. I can't very 
 well spare the time myself. Besides, I expect 
 some people to call upon me." 
 
 '' I shall like it of all things," replied Oswald. 
 *' But I suppose I shan't have to wait at the 
 station till she comes back from Guildford." 
 
 "No — no — she won't return till late. A fly 
 will bring her home." 
 
 " This must be a sudden idea," exclaimed Mrs. 
 Radcliffe, surprised. "Sutton was with me just
 
 118 HILAKY ST. IVES. 
 
 now, and said nothing about going to Guildford. 
 What is to happen to poor Mr. St. Ives V 
 
 " Oh ! he'll take no harm," replied her hus- 
 band. "Boston will look after him. He has got 
 the Times, and a book to amuse him — and can 
 have a cigar if he likes. No, I beg pardon, my 
 love. I know you don't allow smoking in the 
 bedrooms." 
 
 " I wish I could prevent it everywhere else in 
 the house. But I want to know why Sutton is 
 going to Guildford." 
 
 " She wants to go to the bank, I believe, my 
 dear. You had better not keep her waiting, 
 Oswald. The dog-cart has been ordered a quarter 
 of an hour ago." 
 
 " Oh ! I didn't understand that," cried the 
 young man. And with an expressive look at 
 May, he quitted the room. 
 
 Mrs. Eadcliffe was puzzled, but she fancied
 
 HILARY ST. IVES. 119 
 
 this sudden expedition to Guildford had some 
 relation to Hilary St. Ives. What surprised her 
 most was, that Mrs. Sutton had not consulted her 
 before taking the step. However, she could not 
 ask further questions, Avithout appearing too 
 curious. 
 
 "I fancy Sutton has saved money," observed 
 Mr. Kadcliffe. 
 
 "■ I dare say she has," she replied. 
 
 This was a very evasive, and by no means 
 truthful, response. She knew perfectly well that 
 the housekeeper had saved what Oswald Avould 
 have called " a pot of money." 
 
 "Well, May," said her father, looking at her, 
 " noAv that Oswald is gone, I have something 
 to tell you." 
 
 " What is it, dear papa ?" she inquired. " Why 
 should it be a secret from Oswald?" 
 
 " I scarcely know why," he replied, smiling.
 
 120 HILARY ST. lYES. 
 
 " But you shall judge whether I have acted 
 discreetly, or not. I have just received a pro- 
 posal of marriage for you. Now, was I right 
 in reserving this communication for your own 
 ear, and for that of your mamma ?" 
 
 " You were quite right, papa," she replied. 
 
 " Does the offer meet your approval, my dear ?" 
 inquired Mrs. Radcliffe, not feeling at all certain 
 from her husband's manner that it did so. 
 
 " I can raise no objection to it. On the con- 
 trary, I am bound to say that, viewed in a certain 
 light, the offer is highly advantageous. Not to 
 keep you a moment longer in suspense," he 
 added to May, "it is Sir Charles Ilminster of 
 Boxgrove Park, who, through me, offers you his 
 hand." 
 
 May did not make a remark, but, from having 
 blushed deeply, she became quite pale. 
 
 " I shall not attemj)t to influence you one way
 
 HILARY ST. IVES. 121 
 
 or the other, my love," said her father, kindly. 
 " You must consider well before you decide." 
 
 "You are the kindest papa in the world," she 
 cried, flinginfij her arms round his neck. 
 
 Mrs. Eadcliffe thought it behoved her to say a 
 few words. 
 
 " Most girls Avould think that an ofier from a 
 handsome young baronet, with a fine place, did 
 not require much consideration" she observed. 
 
 " Sir Charles Ilminster is thirty-five, mamma." 
 
 " I like that. Thirty-five is young for a 
 baronet. Sir Charles is in the prime of life. He 
 belongs to an old family — one of the oldest in 
 the county. His estates are unencumbered, I 
 believe. To add to his numerous recommenda- 
 tions, he stands quite alone. There is no Dowager 
 Lady Ilminster. lie has only a sister. Lady 
 Richborough, a widow, and a most charming- 
 person."
 
 122 HILARY ST. IVES. 
 
 " I quite agree witli you, mamma, Lady Rich- 
 borough is charming." 
 
 "Is not Sir Charles charming?" 
 
 " Agreeable, gentleman-like, good-looking — yes. 
 C h armin g — no ." 
 
 "Boxgrove, I repeat, is an exceedingly fine 
 place." 
 
 "Granted. But I like Hazlemere quite as 
 well." 
 
 " Absurd. The two places cannot be compared. 
 Boxgrove is an ancient mansion, Avith a noble 
 park. Our's is — but I Avon't depreciate it. You 
 are sadly wanting in taste, my love, and I fear 
 in discrimination. Tlie main point is, whether 
 you at all like Sir Charles." 
 
 "I neither like him, nor dislike him, mamma. 
 I am simply indifferent about him." 
 
 " You will have to make up your mind by 
 to-morrow, my dear," said her father. "He is
 
 HILARY ST. IVES. 123 
 
 coming over "with Lady Richborougli and will 
 expect an answer." 
 
 " I will give Lady Richborough my answer," 
 said May. 
 
 " Licomprehensible girl !" cried her mother. 
 
 "Well; do as you please," observed Mr. Rad- 
 cliffe. " I've said I won't influence you, and I'll 
 keep my word. But I am bound to confirm all 
 youi' mamma has said about Sir Charles Ilminster. 
 A wrong conclusion might be drawn from my 
 silence. And now, my dear," he added to his 
 wife, "you must excuse me. I can't stand the 
 heat of this room any longer. It feels like a 
 furnace." 
 
 " I feel it veiy warm, too, papa," cried May. 
 " I must have a turn in the garden." 
 
 And they quitted the room together. 
 
 "We shall see what effect Hilary will produce," 
 mused Mrs. Radcliffe, as she was left alone. " He
 
 124 HILARY ST. IVES. 
 
 is far handsomer than Sir Charles, and much 
 younger. But then he has nothing. I wonder 
 why Sutton has gone to Guildford." 
 
 May and her father reached the garden just 
 in time to see the dog-cart, with Mrs. Sutton 
 and Oswald inside it, dash through the lodge- 
 gates. The young man waved his hand to them. 
 
 Another person, stationed at the window of an 
 upper chamber, Avatched them as they moved 
 slowly across the lawn. 
 
 This person Avas ravished by May's beauty. 
 Never had he beheld a countenance so enchant- 
 ing, nor a figure so light and graceful. His heart 
 was lost to her at once.
 
 HILAKY ST. IVES. 125 
 
 VIII. 
 
 SIR CHARLES ILMINSTER AND LADY RICHBOROUGH. 
 
 The dog-cart was on its way to the station. 
 
 Those within it ought to liavc been enlivened 
 by the rare beauty of the morning, and by the 
 smiHng aspect of nature ; but they were not. 
 The conversation, commenced by Oswald, soon 
 dropped. Mrs. Sutton was evidently preoccupied, 
 and Avould not give heed to his talk. 
 
 They had crossed a breezy common — not the 
 heath upon which Hilary had been lost, but an 
 equally picturesque tract — and soon afterwards
 
 126 HILAEY ST. IVES. 
 
 entered a long defile, if it may be properly so 
 termed, which led them between the North 
 Downs. 
 
 Nothing could exceed the beauty of the pass. 
 A small river took its course through the narrow 
 valley, and the road skirting its banks offered 
 charming points of view. In many cases the 
 sides of the downs were clothed with timber, 
 while the mansions to which those woods belonged 
 could be descried through openings amid the 
 trees. 
 
 One of the most extensive and most beautiful 
 of the parks in question belonged to Sir Charles 
 Ilminster, of whom mention has just been made. 
 Sir Charles's noble ancestral mansion occupied 
 a commanding situation, and overlooked the whole 
 of the lovely surrounding district. 
 
 Drawn by Spanker, the dog-cart was going at 
 a rattling pace past the tall grey palings that
 
 HILARY ST. IVES. 127 
 
 served to keep the deer within Boxgrove Park, 
 when a turn in the road showed Oswald a lady 
 and gentleman on horseback, followed by a groom, 
 about a quarter of a mile ahead. 
 
 In these persons he had no difficulty in re- 
 cognising the o^^^ler of the adjoining property, 
 and his sister, Lady Richborough. 
 
 As Sir Charles and the lady with him were 
 proceeding very leisurely, the intervening dis- 
 tance was soon cleared by Spanker. The groom 
 touched his hat as the dog-cart passed him, and 
 his master and Lady Richborough, hearing the 
 sound of wheels, turned to see who Avas coming 
 on. 
 
 Both were extremely well momited. Sir Charles 
 had a decidedly military look and bearing — not 
 surprising, since he had been in the — tli Lancers, 
 and had served with distinction. He had a tall, 
 symmetrical figure ; handsome, but rather })ro-
 
 128 HILARY ST. IVES. 
 
 iiounced features ; and wore thick moustaches 
 and a long imperial. 
 
 High-bred, high-minded, high-spirited, chival- 
 rous, Sir Charles was the soul of honour, and 
 had a spice of romance in his composition. 
 
 Ten }'ears younger than her brother, Lady 
 Richborough was in the full eclat of her re- 
 splendent beauty. jNIagnificent black hair, eyes 
 of almost Oriental size and splendour, veiled by 
 long dark eyelashes, classically cut features, a full 
 mouth, and rounded chin, these constituted some 
 of her charms. To her personal attractions she 
 added most fascinating manners, and a remarkable 
 power of pleasing when she cared to exert it. A 
 perfect Amazon, she never looked better than 
 on horseback. She sat her steed well, and her 
 riding-habit brought out the best points of her 
 superb figure. 
 
 The widow of Sir Algernon Richborough, a
 
 HILARY ST. IVBS. 129 
 
 Yorkshire baronet, -vrho unfortunately had a son 
 by a former marriage, besides other children, her 
 charming ladyship had a tolerably good jointure. 
 But, alas ! a very harsh restriction was attached 
 to it. 
 
 Sir Algernon was of a jealous nature, and had 
 not sufficient confidence in his lovely wife. Not 
 believing she would be faithful to his memory, 
 he decreed that her jointure should depart from 
 her if she married again. But for this proceed- 
 ing, which we cannot too strongly condemn, it is 
 certain Lady Richborough would not have re- 
 mained two years a widow. 
 
 How dreadfully mercenary are the young men 
 of the day I A thousand charms, without money, 
 will not fix them. The report that Lady Rich- 
 borough would lose her jointure on marriage 
 scared all her young admirers. Some more mature 
 pretendants, with better taste and larger means, 
 
 VOL. I. K
 
 130 HILARY ST. IVES. 
 
 would not have minded the loss. But they did 
 not suit Lady Richborough, who was determined 
 upon having a young pai'tner in her second noces. 
 
 It remauis only to state that the lovely widow 
 had a house in Eaton-place. But she only oc- 
 cupied it during the season, and generally took 
 care of her brother at Boxgrove. 
 
 Only of late, Sir Charles llminster had become 
 intimate with the Radcliffes, and the intimacy was 
 brought about by the great fancy taken for May 
 by Lady Richborough. 
 
 Sir Charles, who was said to have had an early 
 disappointment, from which he had never entirely 
 recovered, and which had hitherto prevented him 
 from marrying, was not proof against the charms 
 of the youthful beauty. May's freshness and 
 •vivacity enchanted him, and though the connexion 
 was not exactly one he would have sought if his 
 feehngs had not been strongly engaged, he began
 
 HILARY ST. IVES. 131 
 
 seriously to entertain the idea of making her his 
 wife. 
 
 Before taking the decisive step, however, he 
 consulted his sister. She had already perceived 
 the effect produced upon him, and in reality had 
 helped to fan the flame by her praises of the 
 object of his regards ; and, as may be supposed, 
 he met with no opposition from her. On the con- 
 trary, she applauded his choice, and counselled him 
 not to lose time, but secm*e the prize, lest it should 
 shp through his fingers. 
 
 This argument, of which he recognised the full 
 force, prevailed, and induced him to make the 
 formal proposal just reported to the reader. The 
 groom having delivered the letter containing the 
 proposal, had rejoined his master, who had ridden 
 on to Wootton, and Sir Charles was returning 
 to Boxgrove, when overtaken by Oswald. 
 
 On rcacliing Sir Charles and his sister, who 
 K 2
 
 132 HILARY ST. IVES. 
 
 had reined in their horses, Oswald pulled up, and 
 greetings were exchanged. 
 
 After favouring the young man with one of her 
 most bewitching smiles, and allowing him to touch 
 the tips of her gloved fingers, her ladyship ad- 
 dressed herself to Mrs. Sutton, of whose influence 
 with all parties at Hazlemere she was quite cogni- 
 sant, and bringing her horse as close as she could 
 to the housekeeper, began to chat with her in the 
 most affable and friendly manner, making all sorts 
 of affectionate inquiries respecting May and Mrs. 
 Eadcliffe. 
 
 Mrs. Sutton knew that Sir Charles's groom had 
 brought a letter that morning from his master to 
 Mr. Radcliffe, and her ladyship's attentions, coupled 
 with the haughty baronet's altered manner, led her 
 to suspect the truth. 
 
 While Lady Richborough was thus employed. 
 Sir Charles took Oswald in hand, and ascertained,
 
 HILARY ST. IVES. 133 
 
 much to his rehef, that he was merely conveying 
 Mrs. Sutton to the Gomshall station. We say to 
 Sir Charles's relief, for, with all a lover's doubts 
 and trepidation, he had at first imagined that the 
 young man and liis companion were on the way to 
 Boxgrove, charged with some sort of reply to his 
 proposal. A little reflection would have shown 
 him the absurdity of the supposition, but time for 
 reflection had not been allowed him. 
 
 With unwonted courtesy, he then pressed 
 Oswald to take luncheon with him on his way 
 back, and the young man readily accepted the in- 
 vitation. Like all who came near her, Oswald 
 was charmed with Lady Richborough, and was 
 delighted at the prospect of passing an hour in 
 her society. 
 
 Hilary St. Ives formed the next topic of dis- 
 course, in which everybody took part. Of course, 
 her ladyship had heard of the strange circum-
 
 134 HILARY ST. IVES. 
 
 stances of the case — liow the yornig man had been 
 robbed and half murdered on Wootton Heath, 
 and brouglit to Hazlemere. How was he going 
 on ? Was he still alive ? 
 
 Mrs. Sutton was able to assure her that Mr. St. 
 Ives was not only alive, but going on so well, that 
 he would most probably come down-stairs on the 
 morrow. 
 
 Lady Richborough was astonished. Never was 
 anything so wonderful. He owed his life to Mrs. 
 Sutton. But they all knew what an excellent 
 nurse she was. 
 
 !Mi'3. Sutton acknowledged the compliment, and 
 said she should not have left her patient if there 
 had been the least danger in doing so. 
 
 Her ladyship next inquired if it was true that 
 Mr. St. Ives was very handsome. Whereupon, 
 Oswald immediately called out that he was the 
 handsomest fellow he had ever seen.
 
 HILARY ST. IVES. 135 
 
 On this, Sir Charles pricked up his ears, and 
 wanted to know all about him, but no satisfactory 
 answer could be given to his inquiries. 
 
 "Well, we are coming over to Hazlemere to- 
 morrow, and then we shall probably see him, and 
 learn something more," observed her ladyship. 
 " A pleasant journey to you, dear Mrs. Sutton." 
 
 ^^ Dear Llrs. Suttoji," tliought the housekeeper, 
 as she bowed adieu. " I see liow it is, clearly 
 enough. But they are mistaken, if they calculate 
 on me." 
 
 "We shall see you at luncheon, Mr. Wood- 
 cot," said Sir Charles, waving his hand to Oswald. 
 
 The young man nodded, raised his hat to Lady 
 Richborough, and just touching Spanker with the 
 whip, quickly disappeared. 
 
 "You will laugh at what I am going to say, 
 Myrtilla," observed Sir Charles to his sister, as 
 they rode towards the handsome park lodge ; " but
 
 136 HILARY ST. IVES. 
 
 I have an unaccountable feeling that the arrival at 
 Hazlemere of this mysterious St. Ives, at this par- 
 ticular juncture, bodes ill to me. I fear a rival in 
 him — a successful rival." 
 
 "A rival!" exclaimed her ladyship, displaying 
 her pearly teeth, as she laughed heartily. "I 
 know you are excessively superstitious, Charley, 
 but I didn't think you so bad as this. Dismiss 
 such idle fears. Handsome as they say he is, 
 St. Ives is not likely to cut you out. He has 
 appeared on the scene in a very strange manner, 
 I allow; but he will very soon make his exit. 
 You have far more reason to fear rivalry from 
 Oswald Woodcot. He is in love with his fair 
 cousin, that's certain. But, as I have told you, 
 I don't think he has made the slightest impression 
 upon her heart. As to St. Ives, I will undertake 
 that she shan't fall in love with him" 
 
 Meanwhile, the dog-cart pursued its way.
 
 HILARY ST. IVES. 137 
 
 Having now recovered in some degree from 
 his depression, Oswald mibosomed himself to his 
 companion, confessing that he had shown his 
 mother's letter to Mrs. Radcliffe and May. Mrs. 
 Sutton looked grave, and told him he had pursued 
 an exceedingly injudicious course, and need not 
 be surprised at the result, adding that it would 
 be very difficult to repair the error he had com- 
 mitted. While blaming his imprudence, she pro- 
 mised him her best assistance to set matters right ; 
 and the promise raised the poor down-hearted 
 fellow's hopes. 
 
 Mrs. Sutton was secretly much vexed on learn- 
 ing that old Mr. Thornton was coming to Hazle- 
 mere next day, as his visit threatened to embarrass 
 lier plans. But she took care not to let her 
 annoyance appear. 
 
 They reached the station just ten minutes 
 before the arrival of the Guildford train. Oswald
 
 138 HILAEY ST. IVES. 
 
 would have waited to see Mrs. Sutton off, if she 
 would have allowed him. She told hini she 
 should not return till late, as she had a good deal 
 to do at Guildford. So he Hghted a cigar, and 
 drove off to Boxgrove, anticipating a pleasant 
 luncheon. 
 
 When the train came up, Mrs. Sutton entered 
 a first-class carriage.
 
 HILARY ST. IVES. 139 
 
 IX. 
 
 ATHY MRS. SUTTON WENT TO GTJILDFORD, AND WHOM SHE 
 MET THERE. 
 
 A PLEASANT old town is Guildford — none 
 pleasanter in England — and on that sunshiny 
 spring day it wore an unusually cheerfid aspect. 
 The square tower of the ancient Norman castle, 
 reared upon its lofty mound in the centre of the 
 town, looked proudly, yet smilingly, on the many 
 picturesque edifices, halls, churches, hospitals, and 
 quaintly-gabled habitations clustered around it. 
 Bright and beautiful looked the hills near the
 
 140 HILARY ST. IVES. 
 
 town — fairest of all being St. Catherine's Hill, 
 which now looked so lovely and mviting that a 
 devotee might have been tempted to climb to the 
 desecrated chapel on its bro^^^ Fair looked the 
 woods, wherein lies buried antique and storied 
 Losely — fair looked the groves around Compton 
 — fair looked the valley, through which wanders 
 the Wey. 
 
 As Mrs. Sutton passed rapidly tlu'ough the 
 lovely valley of the Wey, and approached the 
 picturesque old town, she could not help casting 
 a glance at the towering keep ; but otherwise, 
 we regret to say, she was insensible to the 
 beauties of the scene. Her mind was fully oc- 
 cupied with the business she had to do. 
 
 Quitting the large and bustling station, at 
 which two important lines unite, she took her 
 way up the High-street. It was rather crowded 
 at the time, and many carriages passed her, but
 
 HILARY ST. IVES. 141 
 
 she looked at none of them. She bought her 
 own dresses, and most of Mrs. Radcliffe's dresses, 
 at Guildford; but she was not going to the 
 draper's or the milliner's now. She had exten- 
 sive dealings with several other tradespeople, but 
 she did not enter a single shop. She went on 
 till she came to the London and County Bank. 
 
 As she entered the bank, a very respectable 
 middle-aged man, rather bald, and wearing spec- 
 tacles, who was engaged with his books at a desk 
 at the back, happened to turn his head, and 
 catching sight of her, he immediately quitted his 
 occupation, and saluted her deferentially. 
 
 " Good morning, IMrs. Sutton. Glad to see 
 you, ma'am. What can I have the pleasure of 
 doing for you ?" he inquired, in bland tones. 
 
 " I want to draw out a little money, Mr. Price," 
 she replied. 
 
 "How much will you take, ma'am?" said Mr.
 
 142 HILARY ST. IVES. 
 
 Price. "I will write out the draft for you, if 
 you please." 
 
 *' Thank you. Be good enough to write it 
 for six hundred pounds." 
 
 Mr. Price looked a httle surprised, but made 
 no remark, and having written out the cheque, 
 he passed it over the counter for her signature. 
 
 ** How will you take the money, madam ?" was 
 the next inquiry. 
 
 "In five bank notes, each for one hundred. 
 The remaining hundred in smaller notes. Stay, 
 I should hke twenty pounds in gold." 
 
 " Very good." 
 
 And the bank notes and gold being at once 
 produced and delivered to her, she proceeded to 
 secure them in her portmonnaie and pocket-book 
 — ^for she needed both. 
 
 While she was thus employed, Mr. Price told 
 her he had just been reading in the Surrey Gazette
 
 HILARY ST. IVES. 143 
 
 an account of the robbery of Mr. St. Ives on 
 Wootton Heath, and he presumed the newspaper 
 was correct in stating that the unfortunate young 
 gentleman had been conveyed to Hazlemere, by 
 Mr. Radcliffe. Being informed that the state- 
 ment was exact in all its particulars, Mr. Price 
 next expressed his surprise at the great remissness 
 of the police. What were they about? The 
 robbers ought long since to have been captured. 
 In this Mrs. Sutton entirely concurred. But Mr. 
 Price did not stop here. He next ventured to 
 observe — and he made the remark with a pecu- 
 liarly soft smile — that he thought he knew how 
 Mrs. Sutton mtended to invest her money. ^Ir. 
 Malham had been at the bank the other day, and 
 mentioned casually that a very desu'able house 
 was to be sold at Wootton for six hundred 
 pounds — a great bargain — cheap as dirt. Mr. 
 Price hoped she was going to buy that house.
 
 144 HILARY ST. IVES. 
 
 Mrs. Sutton's smile might have signified either 
 "yes" or "no," at the option of the observer; 
 hut she made no direct response, and bowing to 
 ^Ir. Price, prepared to depart. 
 
 Just as she was going two persons entered the 
 bank. Unmistakably militaiy men, and probably 
 from Aldershot camp, which, as the reader need 
 scarcely be informed, is not very far from 
 Guildford. The foremost of the two — a youngish 
 man, under thirty, apparently — scarcely merits 
 description. But his companion must not be thus 
 passed over. He was a very distinguished-looking 
 person indeed, fifteen years at least older than 
 his friend, but still strikingly handsome. His 
 aristocratic and refined demeanour did not savour 
 of the camp, though his bronzed visage, marked, 
 but not disfigured, by a large cicatrice, and grey 
 moustache proclaimed that he had served long 
 under an Indian or an African sun. If he had
 
 HILARY ST. IVES. 145 
 
 SO served, his health did not seem much impaired. 
 His dark eye was still full of fire, and his tall 
 thfei figure perfectly erect. A dark-blue frock- 
 coat was buttoned tightly across his chest. 
 
 Both officers removed their cigars from their 
 lips as they entered the bank. 
 
 "Pray come in, colonel," cried Captain de 
 Vesci, the younger of the two. " I won't keep 
 you longer than is required to cash a cheque." 
 
 "I will wait for you as long as my cigar will 
 keep alight," repHed the colonel, laughing. 
 
 That voice ! — that well-known voice ! which she 
 had not heard for many, many years, and never 
 expected to hear again, thrilled through Mrs. 
 Sutton's frame, and suspended for the moment 
 the action of her heart, causing such evident 
 emotion that she well-nigh sank to the ground. 
 
 All the colour fled from her cheeks. Even her 
 lips became white; and Mr. Price, noticing her 
 
 VOL. I. L
 
 M6 HILARY ST. IVES. 
 
 haggard looks, thought she must have been taken 
 suddenly ill, and felt half inclined to spring 
 across the counter to her assistaaice. 
 
 She raised her eyes towards tlie colonel, re- 
 garding him as steadfastly as she dared. Yes, it 
 was he ! But little changed — despite his grey 
 hair and the honourable scar upon his cheek. 
 She would have known him anywhere, and under 
 any circumstances. 
 
 Did he know her? He stared hard at her — 
 struck by the likeness to a long-forgotten and 
 once dear face. But how should he know her? 
 He believed — firmly believed — that she whom he 
 had loved in years long gone by was dead. 
 Nevertheless, this strange likeness to the lost one 
 greatly startled him. 
 
 Mustering all her courage — and she had need 
 of it — ^Ii'S. Sutton passed him as firmly as she 
 could. Her dress brushed him slightly as she
 
 HILARY ST. IVES. 147 
 
 went by, though he moved out of her way. How 
 she sustained herself at that trying moment she 
 could scarcely tell. 
 
 The colonel's curiosity being excited, he stepped 
 to the counter, and addressing Mr. Price said, 
 
 "Can you oblige me, sir, with the name of 
 the lady who has just gone out ?" 
 
 " Mrs. Sutton," was the laconic reply. 
 
 " Good God ! what a strong likeness !" men- 
 tally ejaculated the colonel, too much disturbed 
 to ask any further questions. 
 
 Mrs. Sutton felt so extremely faint, that she 
 was obliged to enter a chemist's shop and pro- 
 cure some sal-volatile. The stimulant presently 
 revived her, but she was still seated in the shop 
 when the colonel and Captain de Vesci passed 
 the door. Neither of them noticed her. They 
 were talking loudly, and she distinctly heard the 
 colonel observe to his friend, 
 l2
 
 148 HILARY ST. IVES. 
 
 "I wonder where the deuce that woman has 
 gone to !" a remark that elicited a laugh from the 
 captain. 
 
 Waiting till they were gone, she proceeded to 
 her milliner's, whose shop was close at hand, and 
 purchased one of those thick black veils w^hich 
 are as effectual a disguise as a loo-mask used to 
 be to our great-grandmothers. Shrouded by this 
 veil she felt more easy, and repaired to the 
 White Hart, where, being well known, she was 
 at once ushered to a private room up-stairs by 
 the landlady, who seemed very glad to see her. 
 She ordered a little luncheon, and at the same 
 time asked for writing materials. 
 
 Left to herself, and having in some degree 
 regained her composure, she strove to reflect on 
 the extraordinary events that had recently taken 
 place. The last occurrence seemed to her the 
 strangest of all, and quite confounded her, up-
 
 HILARY ST. IVES. 149 
 
 setting all her schemes, and filling her witli 
 uneasiness. 
 
 She had every reason to suppose the colonel 
 was in India, and could not comprehend what 
 had brought him back. He could only have just 
 returned, for she was certain she should have 
 heard of his arrival from Mrs. Eadcliffe if any 
 mention had been made of it in the public 
 journals. Yet he had returned. She had heard 
 liis voice — had seen him. Here he was — on the 
 spot. 
 
 How was this unlooked-for danger to be guarded 
 against ? A few days might possibly elapse before 
 Mrs. Radcliffe heard of his return — but she was 
 sure to hear of it ere long — in all probability 
 from himself. Notliing more certain than he 
 would be invited to Hazlemere. Equally certain 
 that he would come. 
 
 Distraction was in the thought. Fate seemed
 
 150 HILARY ST. IVES. 
 
 at work. The perepeties of the dark drama in 
 which she enacted the principal and not wholly 
 guiltless part might be at hand. 
 
 From these meditations she was roused by the 
 waiter, wlio placed writing materials on a small 
 table beside her, and then proceeded to lay a 
 cover for luncheon. 
 
 Her plans were now so disconcerted that she 
 felt inclined to abandon her task; but at last she 
 resolved to bid defiance to fate, and go on. 
 
 After tracing a few lines on a sheet of paper 
 in bold, masculine characters, totally unlike her 
 usual handwriting, she enclosed the bank-notes 
 of large amount which she had just received, and 
 secured the letter in an envelope, which she 
 directed in the same bold hand. 
 
 She had just completed her task, when the 
 waiter informed her that luncheon was ready, 
 and asked if he should send her letter to the
 
 HILARY ST. IVES. 151 
 
 post. She thanked him, but declined, and put 
 the letter in her bag. 
 
 She ate very little luncheon, but drank a glass 
 of sherry, as she still felt rather faint, and then 
 ringing the bell, paid her bill and prepared to 
 depart. 
 
 Voices in the entrance-hall beneath arrested 
 her on the stairs. The colonel and De Vesci were 
 there, lighting their cigars before going out. A 
 narrow escape. A moment sooner, and she must 
 have come upon them. 
 
 As soon as the coast was cleai" she descended, 
 said a few civil words to the hostess, who was 
 all smiles and politeness, and begged her respect- 
 ful duty to ISIrs. Kadcliffe, and then proceeded 
 to the station. 
 
 Not with the intention of returning to Gomshall, 
 though. Her day's work was not yet done. She 
 had another and a longer journey to perform.
 
 152 HILARY ST. IVES. 
 
 X. 
 
 COLONEL DELACOMBE. 
 
 She took a ticket by the South- Western Rail- 
 way to London, and remained in the ladies' wait- 
 ing-room till the train from Godalming came up. 
 Then selecting a first-class carriage, which was 
 nearly full, she got into it. 
 
 Till this moment she had dreaded another en- 
 counter with the colonel, but she now felt secure. 
 But just when the train was about to start the 
 door opened, and the very person she sought to
 
 HILARY ST. IVES. 153 
 
 avoid got in, and took the only vacant seat, which 
 happened to be opposite her own. 
 
 Captain de Vesci, who had accompanied him 
 to the door, muttered a Avord at parting, which 
 caused the colonel to glance inquisitively at his 
 vis-a-vis. 
 
 Mrs. Sutton's features were completely masked 
 by her veil. Her eyes only could be distinguished, 
 and she shrank back in her seat as far as she 
 could. 
 
 Notwithstanding this, the colonel lost no time 
 in addressing her. Assuming a most respectful 
 manner, he observed that he fancied he must 
 have seen her at the bank. No answer. He 
 ventured to make the inquiry, because he had been 
 struck by her extraordinary resemblance to a lady, 
 whom he had known very intimately in former 
 years. Under such circumstances she would 
 excuse him. A slight inclination of the head,
 
 154 HILARY ST. IVES. 
 
 but no further response. He next spoke of Guild- 
 ford and Abbot's Hospital, which he had just 
 visited — a very curious place — uncommonly 
 curious. She had no interest whatever in Guild- 
 ford, or in Abbot's Hospital. Finding all his 
 attempts futile to engage her in conversation, he 
 was compelled to desist. 
 
 He opened a newspaper, and while feigning 
 to be occupied with it, stole an occasional glance 
 at her. She felt he was watching her, but though 
 trembling inwardly, did not betray the slightest 
 emotion. 
 
 After awhile he changed his tactics, and began 
 to converse with an elderly gentleman next him, 
 and she fancied some parts of his discourse were 
 intended for her ear. He informed this gentle- 
 man, who proved to be the rector of Woking, that 
 he had just returned from India, and had landed 
 at Southampton in the Poonah. He had since been
 
 HILARY ST. IVES. 155 
 
 at Aldershot, where his old regiment was stationed. 
 He had been so long in India that everything 
 appeared strange to him. Most of his friends 
 were dead, and the few who were left must have 
 forgotten him. As he made the latter remark, he 
 glanced at Mrs. Sutton ; but though listening at- 
 tentively, she did not appear to notice what he 
 said. 
 
 The rector and his son got out at Woking, and 
 the colonel had again recourse to his newspaper. 
 At Weybridge, tlie two other persons quitted the 
 train, and he was left alone with the mysterious 
 lady. Now he was determined to have an answer 
 from her. 
 
 Rather abruptly, and in a somewhat different 
 tone from that which he had previously adopted, 
 ho asked if she had ever been in India. She 
 answered faintly, " Never." 
 
 "Where can we have met then?" he cried.
 
 156 HILARY ST. IVES. 
 
 " That we have met before to-day I am certain. 
 If not in India, it must have been in this country, 
 upwards of twenty years ago. I have only had a 
 momentary glimpse of your features, madam, but 
 they recalled so vividly the face of one very dear 
 to me, that if she were not lost to me for ever, I 
 should have believed you were she herself. Even 
 now I cannot wholly divest myself of the 
 idea " 
 
 " No more of this, I beseech you, sir," inter- 
 rupted Mrs. Sutton. " I cannot — will not — listen 
 to it. You are quite mistaken in me. We have 
 never met before." 
 
 " By Heaven ! the very voice ! " cried the 
 colonel. " If you have a spark of pity in 
 your composition, madam, you will raise your 
 veil." 
 
 But she showed no signs of compliance, though 
 the request was still more passionately urged.
 
 HILARY ST. IVES. 157 
 
 "Why do you refuse me?" he cried. "My 
 conduct may appear impertinent, but, on my soul ! 
 I am influenced by no idle curiosity or improper 
 motive. Doubts have been created in my mind 
 that must be set at rest." 
 
 " I shall think you crazed if you continue in 
 this strain, sir," she rejoined. "If I happen to 
 resemble some one you have known, that is no 
 reason why I should be subjected to annoyance. 
 You are a perfect stranger to me." 
 
 " I am Seymour Delacombe. Does that name 
 awaken no recollections in your breast ?" 
 
 " None," she rejoined, firmly. 
 
 The colonel fell back in his seat, with some- 
 thing like a groan. 
 
 Looking up, shortly afterwards, he perceived 
 that she had turned aside, and was hastily re- 
 moving a handkerchief from her eyes. 
 
 "By Heaven! she is weeping," he mentally
 
 158 HILARY ST. IVES. 
 
 exclaimed. And his doubts being again ronsed 
 by the discovery, he added, " I see you are moved, 
 madam. I assure you it has not been my Avish 
 to distress or offend you. Far from it. I owe 
 you an explanation of my conduct, and if you 
 will permit me, I will give you such particulars 
 of my history as relate to the unhappy lady, 
 whose loss I deplore, and whom you so strangely 
 resemble in feature, voice, and person." 
 
 "Pray spare me the recital, sir," she rejoined, 
 with freezing coldness. " Doubtless the history 
 is curious, but it can have no interest for me. 
 I have no desire to be made the depositary of 
 your secrets." 
 
 "I fear I have really offended you, madam — 
 but it has been most inadvertently. I beg you to 
 accept my excuses." 
 
 "1 cannot accept them, sir. Either you or I 
 mujst descend at the next station."
 
 HILARY ST. IVES. 159 
 
 " I will relieve you of my society," he rejoined, 
 haughtily. " It will not put me to much incon- 
 venience to obey you, since I have no luggage 
 with me. My trunks have been sent on to 
 London. 1 deem it right to acquaint you that 
 I learnt your name at the Guildford bank — your 
 name, and nothing more," he added, observing 
 her start. 
 
 "If we ever meet again, it must be as entire 
 strangers," she cried, in an agitated voice. " Pro- 
 mise me this, dnd we part friends." 
 
 " I promise it." 
 
 "On your word of honour?" 
 
 " On my word of honour." 
 
 "Enough." 
 
 On reaching Kingston, Colonel Delacombe 
 bade her a ceremonious adieu. His tall, thin 
 figure could be seen on the platform as the train 
 departed.
 
 160 HILARY ST. IVES. 
 
 He was vexed at being thus defeated, but he 
 promised himself speedy revenge. 
 
 Mrs. Sutton pursued her journey in compa- 
 rative tranquillity, and reached Waterloo-bridge 
 Station without further adventure.
 
 HILARY ST. IVES. 161 
 
 XI. 
 
 MR. PAGE THOENTON. 
 
 Taking a cab, she drove at once to the 
 General Post Office at Charmg-cross, and regis- 
 tered the letter, in which she had enclosed the 
 bank-notes at Guildford. She smiled with satis- 
 faction when this was done. 
 
 She next told the cabman, who had waited for 
 her, to proceed to Silver's, in Cornhill, and there 
 dismissed him. At this large establishment, 
 where every kind of habiUment, of every size 
 and quality, can be had, she purchased articles 
 
 VOL. I. M
 
 162 HILARY ST. IVES. 
 
 of wearing apparel of the Lest description, suffi- 
 cient to constitute a complete outfit, stating they 
 were required by a young gentleman who was 
 going out to India immediately. As she was 
 provided with the requisite measm*e, there was no 
 difficulty in the matter, Messrs. Silver supplied 
 her with all she wanted. Having paid the bill, 
 which was made out to Hilary St. Ives, Esq., 
 she desired that it misjlit be forwarded to him 
 with the goods, to the address given. Messrs. 
 Silver promised that her directions should be 
 carefully attended to, and she departed. 
 
 This affair occupied some time, for she had 
 been solicitous to choose such articles as would 
 best suit Hilary, and she pleased herself with 
 the idea of liow much sm'prised he would be 
 when he received the packages. Her business 
 was noAV ended, and her mind more easy. It 
 would have been quite easy, if she had not
 
 HILARY ST. IVES. 163 
 
 encountered Colonel Delacombe. But she had 
 his promise not to molest her, and she thought 
 slie could prevent him from coming to Hazlemere, 
 at least, for the present. 
 
 Mrs. Sutton was very rarely in London, and 
 still more rai'ely in the city, but, being there, 
 she thought she might as ■v^'ell look about her. 
 
 Countiyfolk are always attracted by shops, and 
 she stopped to gaze at several riclJy-garnished 
 windows as she passed along Cornliill. At last, 
 she entered a jeweller's for the purpose of pur- 
 chasing a birthday gift for May, and had just 
 chosen a simple, pretty ring, set with an emerald, 
 when an elderly gentleman came in, and, on 
 beholding her, uttered an exclamation of asto- 
 nishment. Unluckily, her veil was raised at the 
 moment, and she could not let it fall. 
 
 A very gentlemanlike-looldng old gentleman. 
 About seventy — perhaps a trifle more — but look- 
 M 2
 
 164 HILARY ST. IVES. 
 
 ing very hearty for his years. His features had 
 a sardonic expression, not devoid of humour, 
 which lurked about his mouth, and his keen 
 searching grey eyes, peering from under bushy 
 brows, betokened great shrewdness. His round, 
 red cheeks were scrupulously shaven. His attire 
 was extremely neat ; but it was the neatness of 
 the old school, not of the new. He wore a low- 
 crowned hat turned up at the sides, a chocolate- 
 coloured coat with a velvet collar, and a white 
 cravat. Though the day was particularly fine, 
 he was armed -with an umbrella. 
 
 To her infinite cUsmay, IMi's. Sutton recognised 
 her mistress's father, old Mr. Page Thornton, of 
 Chester. 
 
 " God bless me ! jSIi's. Sutton," he exclaimed. 
 " Who would have thought of seeing you ! How 
 are you ? And how are they all at Hazlemere ?" 
 
 " All quite well, thank you, Mr. Thornton. I
 
 HILARY ST. lYES. 165 
 
 needn't ask how you are, sir. You are looking 
 uncommonly well." 
 
 " Thankee — yes — quite as well as an old fellow 
 can expect to be. But what are you doing in 
 town, madam?" 
 
 Mr. Thornton \\as very inquisitive. 
 
 " Why, to tell you the truth, sir, I wanted 
 to buy a little present for Miss Alay — to-morrow 
 is her bu-thday, as you are aware — and not being 
 able to meet with anything I liked at Guildford, 
 I ran up to town." 
 
 ''• Exactly my own errand. I have come here 
 to buy May a bhthday present. Odd, ain't if? 
 What have you bought, ma'am ?" 
 
 Mrs. Sutton showed him the emerald ring. 
 
 " Ah ! very pretty ! But I must choose some- 
 thing else. Give me the benefit of your taste 
 ma'am. You know what May would like." 
 
 " Anything from her grandpapa will please her,
 
 166 HILARY ST. IVES. 
 
 sir. But I see no reason wliy you should not 
 give her a ring as well as myself." 
 
 " None on earth — ha ! ha ! I will. Girls load 
 their fingers with rings now-a-days. Can't have 
 too many — ha ! ha ! Helj) me to choose one." 
 
 On this hint a glittering assortment of jewelry 
 was placed before him, from wliicli, with Mrs. 
 Sutton's aid, he selected a diamond locket, a 
 diamond star, a lovely sapphire ring, the prettiest 
 httle watch and chain unagiuable, with some other 
 ornaments,'^ costing altogether nearly two hundred 
 pounds, which he very cheerfully paid. 
 
 He then gave directions that his grand-daugh- 
 ter's name with the date, 1st May, 186 — , should 
 be engraved inside the watch. 
 
 The jeweller promised that this should be done 
 in the com'se of a few hours, and asked wliere 
 lie should send the things. 
 
 " Pack them up carefully in a little box, and
 
 HILARY ST. IVES. 167 
 
 send them to me— Mr. Page Thornton— at the 
 Langham Hotel, Portland-place. The box must 
 be delivered into my own hands. I shall be at 
 dinner at half-past seven." 
 
 The jeweller promised faithfully that the box 
 should be brought to him at the Langham, at 
 the hour appointed. 
 
 "A Avord with you, ma'am," said the old 
 gentleman, taking :\'Ii's. Sutton aside. "I'm 
 coming to Hazlemere to-morrow. But don't 
 mention it. Don't say you've seen me." 
 
 <' I won't even say that I've been in t0A\m, sir." 
 
 "Ah! I see," he cried, with a knowmg look. 
 " Run up on the sly, eh ? Never mind, I won't 
 peach. But tell me! how does my grandson 
 Oswald get on? In favour with his fair cousin, 
 eh? You're in their secrets, I'll be sworn, 
 Sutton." 
 
 " Indeed, I am not, su-. Mr. Oswald and Miss
 
 168 HILARY ST. IVES. 
 
 May are constantly together — that's all I know. 
 But I tliink — mind, I only think — ^my young lady 
 has had an offer this very morning from Sir 
 Charles Ilminster." 
 
 " Sir Charles Ilminster of Boxgrove ! Zounds ! 
 she must accept 7u'm." 
 
 " Must accept him, Mr. Thornton ! You know 
 very little of your grand-daughter, sir, to say so." 
 
 " Well, I mean she ought to accept him. 
 Oswald must be thrown over. Mrs. Woodcot 
 wll be wofully disappointed, but that can't be 
 helped. We must find some one else for the 
 poor lad. Sir Charles has a sister — a widow — 
 young and very handsome, I am told. She might 
 do. I'll talk it over with Mrs. Eadcliffe. But 
 I'm keeping you here, ma'am. Where are you 
 going, if it's fair to ask?" 
 
 Mrs. Sutton replied that she was going to the 
 Cannon-street Station, whereupon he offered to
 
 HILARY ST. IVES. 1G9 
 
 escort her thither, and they left the shop together. 
 As yet, Mrs. Sutton had said nothing respect- 
 ing Hilary St. Ives ; but as they walked along 
 in the direction of Cannon-street — after a little 
 debate "vvith herself as to the prudence of allu- 
 ding to him — she told the old gentleman of the 
 guest they had got at Hazlemere, and under 
 Avhat strange circumstances he had been brought 
 there. 
 
 ISii'. Thornton listened to her narration with 
 surprise and some displeasm'e ; but when he 
 learnt that Mrs. Eadcliffe had invited Hilary to 
 remain a few days to recruit, he became redder 
 than ever in the face. 
 
 "Why ask him to stay?" he exclaimed, angrily. 
 " Because Mr. Eadcliffe chose to play the Good 
 Samaritan, why should she play the fool? Who 
 is he? Some wretched adventurer — a strolling 
 player, I'll be bound."
 
 170. HILARY ST. IVES. 
 
 Mrs. Sutton strove to appease liim, but he 
 continued grumbling all the way till they reached 
 the gates of the station. 
 
 While thanking him for his escort, JVIrs. Sutton 
 thought it well to caution him that he must know 
 nothing about iSIi'. St. Ives on his arrival at 
 Hazlemere on the morrow. 
 
 JVIr. Thornton promised to be careful, and 
 bidding her adieu, got into a hansom-cab and 
 drove to the Langham Hotel. 
 
 As he was whirled rapidly through the crowded 
 streets, he could not help thinking about iVIrs. 
 Sutton. "A very superior woman, indeed," he 
 said to himself, ''' quite a lady. Upon my soul I 
 can't make her out." 
 
 As he entered the large coffee-room of the 
 Langham, he observed a gentleman seated at 
 one of the tables, Avhose striking appearance at 
 once attracted his attention. Feelina; certain he
 
 HILARY ST. IVES. .171 
 
 knew the face, he applied to a waiter, and learnt 
 that the gentleman was the very person he suj^)- 
 posed — Colonel Delacombe. He at once marched 
 towards him, and the colonel, looking up from 
 his newspaper as he advanced, after a moment's 
 hesitation recognised him, and arose. Expla- 
 nations ensued, and they shook hands very cor- 
 dially together. The meeting was as agreeable 
 as unexpected, — particularly agreeable to the 
 colonel, who immediately began to make inquiries 
 about Mrs. Radcliffe, and appeared enchanted with 
 the a;ood accomits o;iven him of her bv the old 
 gentleman. Mr. Thornton, who was very proud 
 of his daughter, assured him she was looking just 
 as well as ever, which the colonel was quite ready 
 to believe. Then the old gentleman began to 
 talk about his grand-daughter, and expatiated on 
 her beauty, but the gallant colonel Avould not 
 admit that she could be so beautiful as her mother.
 
 172 HILARY ST. lYES. 
 
 "Most people think May far better-looking 
 than her mother," cried ^Ir. Thornton, "but I 
 own " 
 
 " Impossible !" exclaimed the colonel. " Esther 
 Thornton — pai'don me for calling her by that 
 name ! — was the most charming creature ever 
 beheld. Her daughter may equal her, but cannot 
 possibly surpass her. I am not going to be sen- 
 timental. Sentiment is not in my line now. But 
 I assure you I was a long time in getting over 
 that cruel disappointment. I suffered more from 
 it than from any bodily wound, and I have re- 
 ceived a good many." 
 
 " I can easily believe it, colonel. I know how 
 much you were attached to Esther. I was obliged 
 to act harshly in breaking off that engagement — 
 contrary to my own feelings — but I did what I 
 conceived to be my duty to my daughter." 
 
 " You acted very properly, ISIr. Thornton —
 
 HILARY ST. IVES. 173 
 
 very wisely. Mr. Radcliffe has made lier a 
 devilish deal better husband than I shoiild 
 have done." 
 
 " Radcliffe has certainly made her an excellent 
 husband, and perhaps all is for the best. She 
 might have been a great anxiety to you. You 
 are aware she has had very poor health for years, 
 and is now a confirmed invalid — when I say 
 an invalid, I mean that she thinks herself one, 
 and lives like one. I call her a malade imaginaire. 
 And so she is ; for she looks as well as ever, as 
 I have just told you. Run down to Hazlemere 
 when you have a few days to spare. Esther will 
 be delighted to see you, and so will Radcliffe — lie 
 is a deuced good fellow, and not the least bit jea- 
 lous — and you will make the acquaintance of my 
 pretty little May. I am going there to-morrow, 
 and will tell them I have seen you." 
 
 " You will do me a great kindness, Mr. Thoni-
 
 174 HILARY ST. IVES. 
 
 ton. I intended to drop Mrs. Radcliffe a line to 
 inform her of my return, which, as I have ex- 
 plained, Avas much sooner than I anticipated, but 
 you will say all that for me." 
 
 They then had some further friendly chat, and 
 as the colonel had no engagement, they agreed to 
 dine together at seven o'clock. Mr. Thornton was 
 rather fond of good cheer, and like Baron de 
 Brisse, piqued himself upon his skill in arranging 
 a menu. 
 
 The colonel left the matter entirely to him, 
 and having ordered what he hoped would turn 
 out to be a nice little dinner, he proposed a 
 short promenade, and they went forth together, 
 strolling down Bond-street and St. James' s-street, 
 looking in at the Carlton, to Avhich club Mr. 
 Thornton belonged, and proceeding to the Senior 
 United Service Club, of which the colonel was a 
 member, and where he announced his return.
 
 HILAKY ST. IVES. 175 
 
 During their walk, Colonel Delacombe met se- 
 veral acquaintances, all of Avhoni seemed as much 
 surprised as delighted to see him. The colonel 
 was very chatty and agreeable. If his object was 
 to ingratiate himself with the old gentleman, he 
 succeeded to a marvel. 
 
 The dinner was first "rate — at least the colonel 
 said so. He had not eaten such a good dinner 
 since the last time he dined with Mr. Thornton, 
 lie wouldn't say how many years ago. The old 
 gentleman was much flattered. They managed to 
 get through a bottle of perfectly-iced CHcquot, 
 with a slight admixture of fine old sherry, and 
 hud just begun to test the merits of a bottle of 
 Jjaffitte, of a famous vintage, which was placed 
 upon the table when the cloth was drawn, when 
 the waiter introduced a young man cliarged with 
 a small box, which he said he was ordered to 
 deliver into Mr. Thornton's own hands. The old
 
 176 HILARY ST. IVES. 
 
 gentleman said it was all right, and the messenger 
 withdrew. 
 
 After explaining what the box contained, Mr. 
 Thornton begged the colonel to excuse him for 
 a moment while he locked it up. 
 
 On his return he remarked, "Apropos of that 
 box of trinkets, I must relate an odd circum- 
 stance that occui'red to me to-day. Chancing to 
 be in Cornhill, quite by accident, I entered a 
 jeweller's shop, with the design of purchasing a 
 birthday gift for ^lay, when Avhom should I 
 stumble upon but my daughter's housekeeper, 
 ^Irs. Sutton. She had come there on the same 
 errand as myself. Odd, wasn't it?" 
 
 " Very odd," remarked the colonel. " Did 
 you say Mrs. Sutton ?" 
 
 " Yes, that's the housekeeper's name, and a 
 very superior person she is — not like a house- 
 keeper at all — quite a lady, in fact. It appears
 
 HILARY ST. IVES. 177 
 
 that she went over to Guildford this morn- 
 ing." 
 
 " To Guildford !" exclaimed the colonel. 
 
 " Yes ; and not finding exactly what she wanted 
 for May, she came on to town, little dreaming she 
 would meet me.'''' 
 
 " And little dreaming that / should hear of 
 her, and learn all about her," thought the colonel, 
 greatly surprised. 
 
 Filling a bumper, he said, " Let us devote this 
 glass to JMi's. Kadcliffe. To-morrow you will 
 drink your grand-daughter's health. To-day let 
 us drink her mother's." 
 
 "With the greatest pleasure," replied Mr. 
 Thornton. 
 
 lieason was done to the toast. 
 
 Cheered by the generous wine, the old gentle- 
 man remarked with a droll look, '•' I've a propo- 
 sition to make to you, colonel, Avliich I hope you 
 VOL. I. N
 
 178 HILARY ST. IVES. 
 
 may find agreeable. Run down with me to 
 Hazlemere to-morrow, and surprise Mrs. Rad- 
 cliffe, ha! ha!" 
 
 "Are you serious, sir?" asked the colonel. 
 " Or is this a jest ? If you are in earnest, I'm 
 more than half inclined to take you at your word. 
 But all responsibility must rest with yom'self." 
 
 " I'll ensure you a hearty welcome from Rad- 
 cliffe ; that's all you need trouble yom'self about. 
 Madame will certainly be charmed to see you. 
 Gad, it will be a surprise to her" 
 
 "And to Mrs. Sutton as well," thought the 
 colonel. 
 
 Nothing could have pleased the colonel better, 
 and he was quite as much tickled by the jest 
 as the old gentleman was. Indeed, there was 
 more in it to him than to Mr. Thornton. 
 
 Settled that they were to start for Hazlemere 
 at a tolerably early hour in the morning.
 
 HILARY ST. IVES. 179 
 
 Their bottle of claret finished, they adjourned 
 to the smoking-room, where they continued to talk 
 of bygone days, of old friends, and of events that 
 had occiuTed during the colonel's prolonged ab- 
 sence. 
 
 N 2
 
 180 HILARY ST. lYES. 
 
 xn. 
 
 IN WHAT MAlfNER MBS. StlTTON OBTAINED POSSESSION OF 
 THE DOCUMENTS. 
 
 On consulting the time tables, Mrs. Sutton 
 found there was no train that would answer her 
 pui'pose before six o'clock, and having more than 
 an hour to spare, she repaired to the refreshment- 
 room, and partook of a slight repast. 
 
 Though quite unconscious of the danger that 
 threatened her on the morrow, and never dream- 
 ing of the meeting that had taken place between 
 ^Ii". Thornton and Colonel Delacombc, she was 
 uneasy, and had a presentiment of coming ill.
 
 HILARY ST. IVES. 181 
 
 Wliile travelling homewards in tlie train, she 
 revolved the strange events of the day, weighing 
 the difficulties they were likely to give rise to, 
 and which she might have to encomiter. 
 
 The train was late, and it was not far from 
 eight o'clock when she reached the Gomshall sta- 
 tion. A fly was in waiting, for she had men- 
 tioned in the morning that she should requu'e one 
 on her return. 
 
 The night was clear and starlight, but, as we 
 know, she had to pass through a district abound- 
 ing in fine timber. Where the road was over- 
 shadowed by wide-branching trees, as it not un- 
 frequently was, it was profoundly dark. The fly 
 proceeded slowly, being ckawn by a miserable 
 horse. 
 
 A courageous woman, and possessing strong 
 nerves, ^Mrs. Sutton did not feel any alarm, as 
 she proceeded at the slow pace we have mentioned
 
 182 HILARY ST. IVES. 
 
 along the somewhat lonely road. She tried to 
 compose her mind before her re-appearance at 
 Hazlemere, and nothing occurred to disturb her 
 until she had passed the lodge of Boxgrove Park; 
 
 The vehicle m which she sat was crawhng up 
 an ascent at a foot pace, when two men, whose 
 appearance she did not like — though she could 
 scarcely distinguish them through the gloom — 
 suddenly emerged from the side of the hedge, 
 where they seemed to have been lurking, and ad- 
 dressed a few words in rather gruff tones to the 
 driver. 
 
 Involuntarily, the thought of the gipsies, by 
 whom Hilary had been robbed, crossed her. These 
 might be the very men — she knew the pohce sus- 
 pected that they were still in the neighbourhood. 
 The idea frightened her, for she had still a con- 
 siderable sum of money about her, and she hastily 
 concealed the notes about her person, leaving
 
 HILARY ST. IVES. 183 
 
 some ten or twelve sovereigns in her portemon- 
 naie. 
 
 Her alarm, liowcAcr, seemed groundless. After 
 a few words with the driver, which, owing to her 
 trepidation, she could not catch, tlie two men went 
 on at a quick pace, and were soon lost to view. 
 
 Putting her head out of the window, she in- 
 (juired of the coachman what they had said. 
 
 " They asked if I came from the Gomshall 
 station," he replied : " and one on 'em wanted me 
 to give him a lift as far as Blackthorn Common, 
 but I refused, not much liking their looks." 
 
 This explanation did not altogether relieve Mrs. 
 Sutton's uneasiness, but nothing more happened 
 till they got to the edge of the common, when 
 the poor jade that had brought her thus far 
 stumbled over something on the road, and when 
 he got on his legs again it was evident he could go 
 no fiu-ther.
 
 184 HILAEY ST. IVES. 
 
 Presently the coacliman appeared at the win- 
 dow, and, touching his hat, said : 
 
 " Sorry to tell you, ma'am, that you'll have to 
 get out. My horse is dead lame. Accidents will 
 happen, you knows, ma'am." 
 
 " Yes, but this is extremely vexatious. You 
 have brought a very bad horse, and I shan't 
 employ you again." 
 
 " The horse ain't a good un, I admit, ma'am. 
 But it warn't exactly his fault, Pie fell over a 
 great stone that seemed left in the road o' pur- 
 pose." 
 
 " "Well, I suppose I must walk. Luckily, we're 
 not more than two miles from Hazlemere. Open 
 the door, and let me out." 
 
 "Shall I go with you across the common, 
 ma'am ?" 
 
 ** No," she replied in a decided tone, " I can 
 take care of myself."
 
 HILARY ST. IVES. 185 
 
 She had got about half way across the common 
 without meeting with anything to alarm her, Avhen 
 fancying she heard footsteps, she turned her head, 
 and, to her indescribable dismay, perceived the 
 two men about a bowshot off, running fleetly and 
 noiselessly along the turf, with the evident design 
 of overtaking her. 
 
 On seeing them she instantly started off, though 
 with very slight chance of escape. Terror, instead 
 of lending her wings, as it is said to do, on fearful 
 emergencies like the present, seemed to deprive 
 her of all strength. 
 
 Her pursuers gained rapidly upon her, and 
 called to her to stop, loudly and menacingly. 
 
 Finding escape impracticable, and feeling, more- 
 over, that she should speedily drop, she turned and 
 faced them. 
 
 By the time they came up, she had regained 
 her breath, and something of her courage.^
 
 186 HILARY ST. IVES. 
 
 "What do you want?" she cried, in as bold 
 a tone as she could assume. " But I needn't ask. 
 Your design is to rob me." 
 
 *'No, Ave means you no hami, missis/' replied 
 the foremost of the two, who was no other than 
 Reuben. "We have been on the look out for 
 you. AYe saw you go to the station this morning, 
 and managed to find out how you meant to re- 
 tui-n. We wants to have a word with you, if you 
 please, missis," he added, doffing his cap, and 
 speaking as civilly as he could. 
 
 " Say on then," rejoined Mrs. Sutton, wlio had 
 now recovered her composure. 
 
 " Cut it short, Reuben," cried Seth Cooper, 
 impatiently. " Ciwility's well enough in its way, 
 but we arn't time for it just now. Come to the 
 pint. Tell Madam Sutton plainly as 'ow we 
 wants to make a bargain wi' her." 
 
 " What ! you know my name ?" she exclaimed.
 
 HILARY ST. IVES. 187 
 
 "Ay, and we knows summat more nor your 
 name, missis," rejoined Seth. 
 
 "We also know how to hold our tongues, 
 missis," observed Reuben, more courteously. 
 
 " If you know me, I am equally aware whom 
 I have to deal Avith," said Mrs. Sutton. "You 
 are the two men who robbed and maltreated IMr. 
 Hilaiy St. Ives on Wootton Heath the other 
 night." 
 
 "Granted," replied Reuben. "We don't deny 
 the fact. We wos lucky enough to light on Mr. 
 St. Ives t'other night. We wos lucky enough to 
 get hold of his papers, and we now counts on 
 selling 'era to advantage." 
 
 " Worry walerable they is to you. Madam Sut- 
 ton, as you'll find," remarked Seth, significantly. 
 " Secrets is safe wi' us. But you mightn't like to 
 trust other folk wi' 'em. We've run great risks 
 in stayin' hereabouts — wi' the perlice at our 'eels —
 
 188 HILARY ST. IVES. 
 
 chiefly on your account, and we must be compen- 
 sated. Wot are we to get for the papers ?" 
 
 " Have you got them with you ?" she demanded. 
 
 " Ay," he rejoined. " We don't trust 'em out 
 ov our own keeping." 
 
 "You shall have twelve sovereigns — all my 
 purse contains," she replied. 
 
 "That's very little," said Reuben. "Them 
 dockyments is worth hundreds to you, missis." 
 
 " Twelve suvrins !" cried Seth, scornfully. " We 
 can't take it. Consider the risk we've run to 
 sai've you. Madam Sutton. Be you sartin you've 
 got no more about you ?" 
 
 "A great chance that I have so much," she 
 replied, now convinced that it was needless to offer 
 more. 
 
 The villains held a brief consultation together, 
 during which Mrs. Sutton watched them anxiously. 
 To her infinite relief and satisfaction she saw they 
 meant to comply.
 
 HILARY ST. IVES. 189 
 
 Pulling out a large packet from his pouch, 
 Setli stepped towards her, holding it in his hand. 
 
 " Here's the papers," he said ; " not one on 'em 
 a-missin', I'll take my Bible oath on it." 
 
 " And here's my piu'se," she replied, giving it to 
 him. 
 
 " Count the money, Reuben," cried Seth, hand- 
 ing the purse to him. 
 
 " A dozen suviins, all right," said Reuben. 
 
 "Then take the papers, missis," cried Seth, 
 delivering the packet to her, '' and good luck go 
 wi' 'em. You've got the best o' the bargain." 
 
 " And now we'll wish you good night, IMadam 
 Sutton," said Reuben. " You'll hear no more of 
 us. Long afore daybreak we shall be miles away 
 from Wootton." 
 
 And they flew with the swiftness of hunted 
 deer across the common. 
 
 " Now, indeed, I feel secure," cried IVIi's. Sutton, 
 pressing the packet exultingly to her breast.
 
 190 HILARY ST. IVES. 
 
 Half an hour afterwards she arrived at Hazle- 
 mere, pale and exhausted. Naturally, her first 
 business was to lock up the precious packet, re- 
 serving its examination for another season. 
 
 After giving such orders as were necessary, she 
 repaired to Hilary's room, and was glad to find 
 that still further improvement had taken place in 
 him since morning. He Avas in very good spirits, 
 and looldng forward with pleasurable anticipation 
 to the morrow\ 
 
 She sat witli him for some little time, and 
 then proceeded to the boudoir, where she had a 
 long conversation with her mistress. 
 
 But she did not tell her why she went to Guild- 
 ford, nor whom she had seen there. Neither did 
 she explain what had subsequently befallen her.
 
 HILARY ST. IVES. 191 
 
 xni. 
 
 may's birthday. 
 
 Very pleasant to be nineteen, as many of my 
 fair readers must have experienced. Especially 
 pleasant to a lovely girl full of health and spirit — 
 no cloud on her past existence, and a bright future 
 before her. 
 
 She who could now count nineteen springs 
 arose betimes on that bright auspicious morn — 
 for everything seemed to smile on her — and array- 
 ing herself in white, descended to the house-
 
 192 HILARY ST. IVES. 
 
 keeper's room to bid her good morrow, before 
 going out into the garden. 
 
 A very nice little parlour indeed. Tastefully 
 furnished, and well provided with cupboards and 
 store-closets. 
 
 Mrs. Sutton was by herself, busily occupied in 
 preparations for the day, but she discontinued 
 her task as INIay came in, and embracing her 
 with more than her usual warmth, offered her 
 eveiy good wish proper to the occasion. 
 
 Karely was the housekeeper so demonstrative. 
 Gazing fondly in May's fair face, and still hold- 
 ing her in her arms, she exclaimed, 
 
 " How well you are looking on yom' birthday, 
 dear. Ah I" she added, vainly trying to repress 
 a sigh, " I wish I had a heart as light as yours. 
 I once had — though not at nineteen. My morn 
 of life was soon overcast. All good angels guard 
 you, dear ! May you long continue as blithe and 
 free from care as you are now !"
 
 HILARY ST. IVES. 193 
 
 May was sensibly moved by the housekeeper's 
 evident emotion, but Mrs. Sutton speedily reco- 
 vered her usual serenity. 
 
 "I have a little present for you, dear," she 
 said. "It is of slight value, but I hope you will 
 accept it as a token of your old nurse's affection. 
 Wear this for my sake." 
 
 And she gave her the emerald ring. 
 
 Thanking her with effusion, May told her, as 
 she put the ring on her taper finger, that nothing- 
 could have pleased her better than the gift, add- 
 ing that she would always wear it. 
 
 "Always, dear?" 
 
 " Always," replied May, earnestly. " And now, 
 dear Sutton," she continued, taking a chair, " I 
 have something to say to you." 
 
 First closing the door, the housekeeper sat 
 down beside her, putting on a look calculated to 
 invite confidence. 
 
 VOL. I.
 
 194 HILARY ST. IVES. 
 
 She understood at once the nature of the com- 
 munication about to be made to her, when May- 
 mentioned — not without a bkish — that Lady Eich- 
 borough and Sir Charles Ihninster were coming 
 over to Hazlemere in the course of tlie morning. 
 
 "Merely to offer you compliments and good 
 wishes, I presume?" observed Mrs. Sutton. 
 
 " Not exactly. I dare say they are quite ig- 
 norant that it is my birthday." 
 
 " Perhaps, then. Sir Charles may be coming 
 for an answer to a certain letter which he sent 
 yesterday." And she added, with a smile, "A 
 little bird has told me all about it, you see, dear." 
 
 " That little bird tells you everything, Sutton." 
 
 " Your mamma told me this, because she knows 
 how much I am interested in all that concerns 
 you, dear. Well, what is the answer to be? 
 Have you made up your mind ?" 
 
 "Not yet," replied May, shaking her head.
 
 HILARY ST. IVES. 195 
 
 " That is why I desire to consult you. I know 
 you will give me good advice." 
 
 " That I will, darling — tlie best in my power. 
 The offer requires consideration." 
 
 " Mamma declares it requires no consideration. 
 I am not of her opinion." 
 
 " Nor I. But I mean that such an offer ousht 
 not to be hastily rejected. Would you not like to 
 be Lady Ilminster f* 
 
 "A title does not dazzle me, Sutton." 
 
 " But Sir Charles has many recommendations 
 besides his high ])osition. He is a perfect gentle- 
 man — distinguished in appearance and manner. 
 I saw him yesterday, and thought so. What is 
 your objection to him f she asked, regarding her 
 fixedly. 
 
 " I have really no objection to make to him — 
 except that he does not interest me. Frankly, 
 Sutton, I do not think I could ever love him." 
 o2
 
 196 HILARY ST. IVES. 
 
 Much relieved by this avowal, but cai'efully 
 dissembling her satisfaction, the housekeeper re- 
 joined, " If such is your firm determination, dear, 
 you Avill do well to decline Sir Charles's offer. 
 Otherwise, you will run the risk of entailing un- 
 happiness on yourself and on him. Mutual affec- 
 tion I hold to be an indispensable ingredient in 
 married life." 
 
 " You are right, Sutton," observed May, com- 
 pletely duped by her artful counsellor. " The 
 risk is unnecessary, since I am perfectly happy as 
 I am." 
 
 " Well, I cannot but applaud your determina- 
 tion, though I own I am surprised at it. Eank 
 has generally an irresistible attraction to our sex. 
 And now, since Sir Charles is disposed of, may 
 I venture to say a word in favour of some 
 one else — of one who professes to love you 
 dearly?"
 
 HILARY ST. IVES. 197 
 
 " I guess what is coming," cried May, smiling. 
 " But proceed." 
 
 " Your cousin Oswald unbosomed himself to me 
 as we drove to the station, and told me what you 
 liad said to him. But I fancied on second thoughts 
 you might change your mind. May I console the 
 poor young gentleman ? May I give him a 
 hope?" 
 
 May shook her head. 
 
 "He had his final answer yesterday," she re- 
 marked. 
 
 '' Then I am to understand that your heart 
 is quite disengaged ? Look me in the face, and 
 tell me so — if you can." 
 
 " I can, Sutton. ' My heart is my own,' as 
 the song says," cried May, fixing her clear truthful 
 eyes upon her as she spoke. "Take this assur- 
 ance also: I will never wed any man unless I 
 love him."
 
 198 HILARY ST. IVES. 
 
 Mrs. Sutton smiled approval, and reflected for 
 a moment. A favourable opportunity seemed to 
 have occurred for bringing up Hilary St. Ives, 
 and she determined not to let it slip. 
 
 Somewhat changing her manner, she remarked, 
 " Laugh, if you please, at what I am going to 
 say to you, dear — laugh, but listen. While I was 
 nursing the young gentleman who has been so 
 strangely placed under my care, a singular idea 
 occurred to me, and I have not been able to 
 divest myself of it since. Possibly his good looks 
 — he is extremely good-looking, dear — may have 
 prompted the notion. At any rate, it came into 
 my head." 
 
 Pleased to find her listener's curiosity excited, 
 she went on, after a well-calculated pause : 
 
 "Fate, I thought to myself, must have brought 
 him here for a special purpose. What can the 
 purpose be ? The answer came immediately. He 
 must be destined for May."
 
 HILARY ST. IVES. 199 
 
 Great was the young lady's surprise. Throw- 
 ing herself back in her chair, she laughed aloud. 
 " For nie ! " she exclaimed. " Did you say for 
 me, Sutton?" 
 
 " For you, dear," replied the housekeeper, in 
 no way disconcerted. " Such Avas the idea that 
 forced itself upon me. There is such a thing as 
 destiny." 
 
 " There may be," replied May, still laughing. 
 " But mine is not mixed \ip with that of Mr. 
 Hilary St. Ives." 
 
 With affected gravity, though she could scarcely 
 maintain a serious countenance, she then added, 
 " Are you quite sure, Sutton, that the whole 
 affair is not a contrivance of your own to get this 
 young man into the house ? It looks very, very 
 suspicious." 
 
 " / bring him here ! " ejaculated the house- 
 keeper, petrified by the accusation. " What next ? 
 If there has been a plot, your papa and Mr.
 
 200 HILARY ST. IVES. 
 
 Oswald have been the chief actors In it, and I 
 don't think you will suspect them.'" 
 
 "Neither do I suspect you, you dear, kind, 
 absurd creatiu'e. Don't you perceive I was only 
 jesting ? You deserve to be laughed at for your 
 folly. Mamma is just as silly. She raves about 
 this young man's good looks. He seems to have 
 turned both your foolish heads. But don't say a 
 word more in his praise I beg of you, or I shall 
 positively dislike him, and I don't desire to do 
 that. By-the-by, is he coming down to break- 
 fast ? " 
 
 "I believe so. I have heard nothing to the 
 contrary. He wished to be called early, and 
 Boston has gone vip to his room some time ago." 
 
 "That reminds me you will have to change 
 his room to-day, since grandpapa is coming." 
 
 " Yes, I mean to give him the little bachelor's 
 room, next to Mr. Oswald's. It looks upon the
 
 HILARY ST. IVES. 201 
 
 garden, and will suit liim to a T. Perhaps you 
 will assert next that I have invited him to stay, 
 in pursuance of my deeply-laid scheme." 
 
 " No, I won't, dear Sutton, for I am aware it 
 was mamma who asked him. Forgi\e me for 
 teazing you. You must not be cross with your 
 little pet on her birthday. Come with me to 
 the garden." 
 
 " Not just now," replied the housekeeper, rising, 
 as if witli the intention of resuming her work. 
 " I've a great deal to do." 
 
 " Nay, you shall come, or I shall think you 
 really angiy. I'll gather you the prettiest nosegay 
 possible in return for the ring." 
 
 Mrs. Sutton yielded. Indeed, she required 
 Aery little persuasion. So they went into the 
 garden together. 
 
 The gardens and grounds at Hazlemere were 
 tolerably large — large enough, at all events, to
 
 202 HIIARY ST. IVES. 
 
 require the attention of three or four gardeners, 
 besides extra hands. Laid out in the landscape 
 style by a disciple of Payne Knight, they were 
 extremely well kept, for Mr. Radcliffe spared no 
 expense upon his place. He had plenty of " glass," 
 and his head-gardener, Kenneth McDonald, a 
 Scotsman, as his name imported, had won no 
 end of prizes for grapes and pineapples. Mag- 
 nificent were the show peaches and nectarines — 
 superb the strawberries grown by Kenneth 
 McDonald, gardener to Theobald Radcliffe, Esq., 
 of Hazlcmere. Our business, however, is not 
 with the produce of the gardens, but with tlu^ 
 gardens themselves, of which we must attempt to 
 give the reader some slight notion. 
 
 A broad terrace, or rather platform, artificially 
 raised several feet above the lawn, extended in 
 front of the house, and led on past arabesque par- 
 terres, embroidered with box, and filled with
 
 HILARY ST. IVES. 203 
 
 flowers and dwarf flowering shrubs, towards an 
 inclosure latticed with wire, and appropriated to 
 gold and silver pheasants and ring-doves. Fiu*- 
 ther on were the greenliouse and hothouses. A 
 splendid wistaria, a couple of fine magnolias — 
 one of which, a " consjnciia" Avas in full flower 
 — with roses and jasmines, covered tlie walls near 
 the terrace. 
 
 A flight of stone steps led down to another 
 broad gravel walk which folloAved the course of 
 the terrace, and opened upon the smooth-shaven 
 lawn, or rather series of lawns. Near the house 
 the ground was level, but further on it sloped 
 gently down to a small but well-timbered park, 
 from which it was only divided by iron hurdles. 
 The lawns were interspersed with scattered trees, 
 clumps of rhododendrons, which grew to gi'eat 
 size, and other early flowering shimbs, with count- 
 less beds of roses. Pleasant walks led to pleasant
 
 204 HILARY ST. lYES. 
 
 spots, disclosing fresli beauties at every turn — a 
 summer-house half hidden in a bosquet — a rustic 
 bench beneath a spreading tree. Nothing was 
 neglected. A large green patch of smoothest turf, 
 flat as a billiard-table, served the double pm'pose 
 of a bowling-green and a ground for croquet. A 
 long shady walk brought you to the coppices 
 skirting the park. Another walk led through the 
 intricacies of a thicket to a sequestered glen, 
 abounding in heaths, ferns, and alpine plants, 
 and where an abundant spring, gushing forth 
 amid the rocks, immediately formed a rivulet. 
 At the end of the ravine was the miniature lake, 
 whence Mr. Radcliffe's residence derived its name. 
 Returning from tliis sequestered glen to the 
 sunshiny terrace from which we have strayed, we 
 shall find, on casting our eyes around, that it com- 
 mands a diversified country, wild and heathy in 
 parts, but generally well cultivated, covered for
 
 HILARY ST. IVES. 205 
 
 the most part Avith timber, and embellished by 
 many a stately mansion. On the left the prospect 
 is bounded by the North Downs — on the right by 
 a lower range of chalk hills. 
 
 But let us confine ourselves to Hazlemere. We 
 need not search elsewhere for beauty. It lies 
 before us. Gardens and pleasure grounds alike 
 are charming, and could not be seen in greater 
 perfection than on this enchanting May morning, 
 when the smooth lawns are flooded with sunshine, 
 Avhen the air is filled -with the perfume of flowers, 
 and the m'oves are vocal with melodv. The 
 blackbird and the speckled thrush venture near 
 us, plainly manifesting by their tameness how 
 kindly treated they are by the fair young mis- 
 tress of Hazlemere, whose natal day we celebrate. 
 Poets — the gi-eatest of poets — have sung the de- 
 lights of ^lay Day morn ; but Milton himself 
 never hymned a May morn more exquisite.
 
 206 HILARY ST. IVES. 
 
 On issuing forth upon the terrace, May and 
 her companion stood still to inhale the balmy 
 odours arising from the flower-beds, and listen to 
 the choristers in the groves. Both were enrap- 
 tured by the beauty of the day. May felt joyous 
 as the morn itself ; and even Mrs. Sutton, exhi- 
 larated by the genial influences, was able for the 
 moment to cast off her cares. 
 
 "Look, Sutton, here come my pretty pets to 
 bid me good morrow," cried May, as a pair of 
 blackbirds ran along the lawn as if to greet her. 
 
 Other birds followed, and after properly re- 
 warding the attentions of her feathered favourites, 
 May proceeded to gather the promised nosegay 
 for the housekeeper. They then descended to the 
 lawn, and took their way towards some distant 
 parterres, where M'Donald and another gardener 
 were eneased in filling a basket with flowers for 
 the decoration of the breakfast-table. The lovely 
 queen of the fete was attended in her march
 
 HILARY ST. IVES. 207 
 
 across the velvet tiu-f by her faithful blackbirds 
 and thrushes. M'Donald, a good-looking man 
 with a fiery-red beard, took off his cap as she 
 approached, and in his racy Doric, and with a 
 heartiness that bespoke sincerity, offered her his 
 best wishes on the occasion. The basket being 
 nearly full, he asked if he should take it to the 
 liouse. JVli'g. Sutton bade him do so, giving him 
 at the same time some directions as to the arrange- 
 ment of the flowers. She also reminded him that 
 lie and the under-gardener were expected at 
 diiuier in the servants' hall, where they would 
 have an opportmiity of drinking the health of 
 their young mistress. 
 
 Just as the gardener was departing. May in- 
 quired if he had seen her cousin, and M'Donald 
 rejoined that Mr. Oswald had been there not ten 
 minutes ago, but had gone down towards the lake 
 to smoke a cigar, and give Neptune a swim. 
 
 M'Donald and his maii then took the basket
 
 208 HILARY ST. IVES. 
 
 and proceeded towards the house, while May and 
 the housekeeper walked on in the opposite direc- 
 tion. 
 
 They were chatting together near a rose-bed, 
 when May chanced to turn her head, and per- 
 ceived M'Donald coming back. He was support- 
 ing a tall young man, avIio walked rather feebly, 
 and who certainly could not have got so far with- 
 out the aid of the gardener's strong arm. 
 
 In this young man she had no difficulty in 
 recognising Hilary St. Ives.
 
 HILARY ST. IVES. 209 
 
 XIV. 
 
 HILARY S STORY. 
 
 Hilary, it appeared, had seen them from his 
 chamber window, which commanded the terrace 
 and lawn, and unable to resist the impulse that 
 prompted him to join them, hastily completed his 
 toilet, and made his way to the garden. When 
 he gained the terrace they were gone, but per- 
 ceiving them at a distance, he was moving slowly 
 ill that direction, when M'Donald came up, and 
 noting his debility, at once offered him his arm. 
 
 VOL. J, r-
 
 210 HILARY ST. IVES. 
 
 Naturally, the gardener was aware of the circum- 
 stances imder which Hilary had been brought to 
 the house, and as they walked along he expressed 
 his satisfaction at the young man's recovery. 
 He also thought it right to communicate the fact 
 that it was Miss May's birthday, adding, " She is 
 the bonniest young leddy in all England, and as 
 gude and kind-hairted as she is bonnie." 
 
 " Why, I declare, there is Mr. St. Ives," cried 
 May, on seeing him. 
 
 " Yes, 'tis he, sure enough," rejoined the house- 
 keeper. And though secretly pleased, she added, 
 " How very foolish of him to venture forth in 
 this way. I must scold him. He quite miscal- 
 culates his strength." 
 
 " Yes, he seems very feeble. Go to him, Sut- 
 ton." 
 
 The housekeeper immediately hurried forward, 
 while May followed more leisurely.
 
 HILARY ST. IVES. 211 
 
 As IVIi's. Sutton came up, M'Donald felt that 
 his services were no longer needed, and, touching 
 his cap, he retired. 
 
 The housekeeper blamed her patient for coming 
 out Avithout her permission, but her looks belied 
 her words, and showed she was not much dis- 
 pleased. 
 
 " I merely wished to pay my respects to Miss 
 Kadcliffe," observed Hilary, in a deprecatory tone. 
 " May I beg you to present me to her ? " 
 
 !Mrs. Sutton smiled graciously, and, giving him 
 her arm, led him towards the young lady, who had 
 stopped at a short distance from them. 
 
 As they slowly advanced, May had an oppor- 
 tunity of scrutinising the young man's appearance, 
 and she mentally admitted that her mother's and 
 Mrs. Sutton's praises of his . good looks were not 
 undeserved. He was still very pale, and evidently 
 suffering from the effects of the injuries he had 
 v2
 
 212 HILARY ST. IVES. 
 
 received, but this expression was calculated to 
 excite sympathy. 
 
 On his part, Hilary experienced sensations 
 hitherto unknown to him. Dazzled by May's 
 beauty, he scarcely dared to raise his eyes towards 
 her, and trembled at the thought of entering into 
 her presence. His emotion became so great that 
 he ^was obliged to halt for a moment, and May, 
 attributing the pause to increased debility, stepped 
 quickly forward, and in a few kind and sympa- 
 thetic words expressed her concern. 
 
 Her accents vibrated through Hilary's frame, 
 and made the blood rush to his heart, tending to 
 heighten his confusion ; but her gentle looks soon 
 reassured him. Thanking her for the interest 
 she displayed in his condition, he assured her he 
 was better, and forced a smile to corroborate his 
 words. ^Ii's. Sutton, who watched them both nar- 
 rowly, then introduced him to the young lady.
 
 HILARY ST. IVES. 213 
 
 and the ice being now fairly broken, he quickly 
 recovered his self-possession, and was able to 
 converse in a manner that left the anxious house- 
 keeper no doubt as to the impression he was likely 
 to produce. Decidedly May was pleased with his 
 manner. Nor did the interest with which he had 
 at first inspired her at all decrease on further ac- 
 quaintance Mith him. The few words in which 
 he besought her to accept his best wishes were 
 appropriate and earnest, and he was lavish in his 
 expressions of gratitude for the extraordinary 
 kindness and consideration shown him since his 
 arrival at Hazlemere. 
 
 After stating that the misadventure that had 
 occurred to him, combined with the loss of his 
 papers, had upset all his plans, he added, with 
 some little gallantry, that he could not regret it. 
 At !Mrs. Sutton's suggestion they proceeded to a 
 rustic bench beneath a tree, where they all sat
 
 214 HILARY ST. IVES. 
 
 down, and the discoui'se continued. Encouraged 
 b}^ his manner, May ventured to ask him a few 
 questions about himself, to which he rephed with 
 great frankness. 
 
 "I am afraid I shall sink very much in your 
 esteem. Miss Radcliffe, when you learn my his- 
 tory," he said ; " but it is only proper you should 
 be made acquainted v^'iili it. Do not be startled 
 if I am obliged to confess that I do not know my 
 origin. I am not even certain that the name I 
 bear is my rightful one. A mystery hangs over 
 my birth, which I had hoped to unravel, but wliich 
 may now be never cleared up since those papers 
 are gone. With them I fear I have lost all 
 chance of penetrating the secret." 
 
 " Since the papers were in your own possession, 
 what prevented you from referring to them, and 
 ascertaining the secret ?" inquired May. 
 
 " The packet was entrusted to me on the express
 
 HILARY ST. IVES. 215 
 
 condition that it should not be opened, except in 
 the presence of a person wliom I was to meet at a 
 certain place and at a certain hour in London. 
 With his permission — and his permission only — 
 were the seals to be broken. The packet is irre- 
 coverably lost, and the time of meeting has long 
 since past." 
 
 "And you faithfully observed your engage- 
 ment ? " remarked Ma}'. " Had I been in your 
 place, I do not think I could have resisted the 
 temptation to open the packet. What say you, 
 Sutton?" 
 
 " I think Mr. St. Ives deserves great credit for 
 liis forbearance," rejoined the housekeeper. " Few 
 persons would have acted so well." 
 
 " Having given my promise, I could not violate 
 it," said Hilar}-. 
 
 " But you know the name of the person whom 
 you were to meet in London, and though you
 
 216 HILARY ST. IVES. 
 
 failed in the appointment, owing to unforeseen 
 circumstances, you can still find him ? " observed 
 May. 
 
 " I am entirely unacquainted with his name or 
 address," replied Hilary. " The person was care- 
 fully described to me. The place of rendezvous 
 was St. James's Park. Had I met him and satis- 
 fied him, I have reason to believe that a new 
 career would have been opened to me, which 
 might have led eventually to fortune. At any 
 rate," he added, in a sombre tone, " I should have 
 learnt wdio I am." 
 
 After a moment's pause he continued : 
 " I fear you will despise me. Miss RadclifFe, 
 after the disclosure I have just made to you, but 
 I could not allow you to remain in ignorance of 
 my exact position, and I beg you will explain it 
 to IMrs. Radcliffe and your father. Say that I 
 am a mere nameless adventurer — I am really
 
 HILARY ST. IVES. 217 
 
 nothing more — wliom chance has brouglit beneath 
 tlieir roof, and that I am prepared to quit it at 
 once, shouki they desire me to do so, full of grati- 
 tude for their kindness. My history may be 
 summed up in a few words. Its details would 
 have little interest for you. That I have been 
 abandoned by my parents is certain — from what 
 causes I can only conjecture." 
 
 Mrs. Sutton, who had become deathly pale 
 during his recital, averted her gaze as he looked at 
 her. 
 
 " I know nothing but Avhat has been told me. 
 Those who had charge of me stated that my 
 mother was dead, but that my father was living 
 and in India. However, I should never be al- 
 lowed to see him or learn his name. In other 
 Avords, I was given plainly to vinderstand that he 
 would never acknowledge me." 
 
 " But you were not utterly abandoned ? " cried
 
 218 HILARY ST. IVES. 
 
 May, in a compassionate tone. " I will not tliink 
 so badly of human nature as to suppose so." 
 
 "No. In some respects I have had no reason 
 to complain. Money vas regularly sent for my 
 maintenance and education, and the amount was 
 increased, as occasion required. Mr. and Mrs. 
 Courtenay, the persons with whom I was placed, 
 dwelt in Exeter, near the South Gate. They 
 were perfectly faithful to their trust. At no 
 time, however closely questioned, would they 
 reveal by whom the allowance was made. Perhaps 
 they were kept in ignorance themselves. 
 
 " The Courtenays were very respectable people, 
 not in a very exalted station in society, but 
 tolerably well to do, and strictly honest. They 
 had no family, and treated me with almost pa- 
 rental affection. Indeed, in my earlier }-ears I 
 looked upon myself as their son. I was educated 
 at a public school in the city. Mr. Courtenay,
 
 HILARY ST. I YES. 219 
 
 who had my welfare at heart, wished me to take a 
 situation, which he would readily have procured 
 me. But business did not suit me. By this time 
 I had become acquainted with my position. Be- 
 lieving myself to be a gentleman born, I deter- 
 mined to do nothing inconsistent with the cha- 
 racter of a gentleman. I have since seen the ab- 
 surdity of my notions, and regret that I did not 
 follow ]\ii'. Courtenay's advice. But I was then a 
 hot-headed boy. I became restless and dissatisfied, 
 and, not knowing what to do with me, Mr. Cour- 
 tenay supplied me with funds to go abroad ; glad, 
 I make no doubt, to get rid of me, for with my 
 foolish fancies and pretensions, I must have been 
 a sad trouble to him. 
 
 " I spent three years in various parts of France 
 — chiefly at Toulouse, Tarascon, and other towns 
 near the Pyrenees, where I could live cheaply. I 
 ought to have mentioned that I was always fond
 
 220 HILARY ST. IVES. 
 
 of drawing, and have some little talent in that 
 line, which I now began to cultivate assiduously. 
 I turned artist. My sketches of picturesque scenes 
 among the Pyrenees, with groups of peasantry, 
 were sufficiently admired to sell. 
 
 " I next proceeded to Paris, intending to esta- 
 blish myself there as a professional artist, and I 
 might have succeeded in my design, for I had no 
 lack of encouragement, if my unlucky pride had 
 not stood in my way. I could not stoop to certain 
 things that are indispensable to success. 
 
 " Quitting Paris in disgust — disgusted with my- 
 self I ought to say — I went to the Channel Islands, 
 where I lingered for some months pm'suing my 
 avocations, and then returned to England. Rest- 
 ing at Southampton for a couple of weeks, 1 
 crossed over to Ringwood, and occupied myself 
 in sketching the romantic scener}" in the neigh- 
 bourhood of that town.
 
 HILARY ST. IVES. 221 
 
 "During this time I liad communicated with 
 Mr. Courtenay, and he came over to Ringwood 
 to see me, bringing with him the all-important 
 packet of which I have been unluckily deprived. 
 He gave me the instructions which I have re- 
 capitulated to you, and I at last promised myself a 
 solution of the mystery that has hitherto hung 
 over my birth. You know how I have been dis- 
 appointed. However, let that pass. I must finish 
 my tale. 
 
 " Being a good pedestrian, I determined to pro- 
 ceed to London on foot. To accomplish this \Adth- 
 out hindrance, I consigned my luggage and port- 
 folios to Mr. Courtenay. I allowed myself three 
 days for the walk. On the fourth day I undertook 
 to be in St. James's Park at the horn' appointed. 
 You know the rest." 
 
 May had listened to his narration with an in- 
 terest which she did not care to dissemble. A
 
 222 HILARY ST. IVES. 
 
 slight melancholy in the tone of his voice touched 
 her feelings, while the romantic cast of his counte- 
 nance harmonised with the account he gave of 
 himself. She seemed to understand him better 
 now she knew he was an artist. 
 
 " My pride would not allow me to make this 
 confession to your mother/' he said ; " and I there- 
 fore retui'ned somewhat evasive answers to her 
 questions. But to you, Miss Radcliffe, I would 
 not appear other than I am — a poor nameless 
 artist." 
 
 " What better can you be than an artist % " she 
 cried, with an enthusiasm that charmed him. 
 " And you will soon win a name. Do not re- 
 linquish your career." 
 
 " I will not since you enjoin me to pursue it." 
 
 " I have no right to give you any advice," she 
 said, blushing deeply, and feeling she had gone 
 too far ; " but if you possess the genius for 
 which I give you credit, you ought not to be
 
 HILARY ST. IVES. 223 
 
 diverted by any consideration from the path which 
 is plainly pointed out to you, and which may lead 
 to renown. Hereafter, the misfortune that has 
 just occurred to you will appear as nothing." 
 
 " I have already said that I do not regard the 
 occurrence as a misfortune. Hov,-^ can I feel 
 otherwise than elated by the encouragement you 
 deign to give me. If I rise in my profession to 
 the height you have assigned me, I shall date 
 my sviccess from this day." 
 
 The words were uttered with so much fer- 
 vour, and accompanied by a look expressing such 
 profound homage, that May almost involuntarily 
 cast down her eyes. 
 
 Mrs. Sutton, who had listened to what had 
 passed, with deep but repressed emotion, now 
 deemed it necessary to interpose, and after a few 
 remarks upon the singularity of Hilary's story, 
 said, 
 
 "Excuse the liberty I am about to take in
 
 224 HILARY ST. IVES. 
 
 putting a question, but I observe that you wear 
 a signet ring with a coat of arms engraved on it. 
 Whose are the arms ?" 
 
 " I cannot tell you. The ring was given me 
 the other day by Mr. Courtenay, but without any 
 explanation. He charged me to sliow it to the 
 gentleman who was to meet me in St. James's 
 Park, in proof of my identity." 
 
 May uttered an exclamation of surprise, and 
 asked to look at the ring. He took it off to show 
 it her. 
 
 She had just returned it to him, after a mo- 
 ment's examination of the armorial bearings, when 
 Boston, the valet, Avas seen advancing towards 
 them. He was the bearer of some letters, three 
 or four of which he delivered to May, and then to 
 Hilary's great surprise, handed one to him. 
 
 " For me !" exclaimed the young man. " Im- 
 possible ! who can know that I am here ?"
 
 HILARY ST. IVES. 225 
 
 Boston smiled. Ho could offer no explanation. 
 It Avas a registered letter, and with it was a small 
 slip of paper, which Hilary signed with a pencil, 
 and the valet departed. 
 
 The young man gazed in astonishment at tlie 
 letter. It was unquestionably addressed to him- 
 self, in bold masculine characters — Hilary St. 
 Ives, Esq. — with Theobald Radcliffe, Esq., Hazle- 
 mere House, Wootton, Surrey. His astonish- 
 ment, however, was increased in a tenfold degree, 
 when, after bo-\Aang to May, he opened the letter, 
 and perceived its contents. 
 
 " Bank notes !" he ejaculated, scarcely able to 
 credit his senses. " Bank notes to the amount of 
 five hundred pounds ! I must surely be ch'eam- 
 ing." 
 
 " No, I will answer for it you are awake," cried 
 May, who was almost equally surprised. " I can 
 see the bank notes plainly myself." 
 VOL. I. Q
 
 226 HILARY ST. IVES. 
 
 IMrs. Sutton, avIio had risen from her seat, 
 under tlie pretence of gathering a flower, now 
 returned, feigning quite as much astonishment as 
 the others. 
 
 " This letter may afford some explanation," 
 cried Hilary. 
 
 And he read aloud as follows : 
 
 "The friend who Avatches over you has heard 
 of the disaster that has befallen you Do not 
 be downcast. All will be well. The enclosed 
 remittance of five hundred pounds is made that 
 you may not be inconvenienced in regard to 
 money. You shall have more, should you require 
 it. You will hear aarain from me before lono-. 
 Meantime, a supply of wearing apparel and other 
 necessaries will be sent you." 
 
 " Have you ever heard from the writer of that 
 letter before ?" asked Mrs. Sutton, in the most 
 natural manner imaginable.
 
 HILARY ST. lYES. 227 
 
 " Never," he replied. " I do not know tlie 
 liandwriting. It is certainly not Mr. Coiirtenay's," 
 
 " You are not neglected, you see," cried INIa}'. 
 " What an extraordinary circumstance !" 
 
 " Extraordinary indeed !" echoed Hilary. " But 
 by no means disagreeable. I never had so much 
 money before." 
 
 They were still talking the matter over when 
 Boston reappeared, and informed Hilary that a 
 large chest had just arrived for him. 
 
 " Another wonder !" he exclaimed. 
 
 " Of course it contains the wearing apparel and 
 other things mentioned in the letter," observed 
 May. 
 
 "No doubt," observed Mrs. Sutton. " Let the 
 chest be taken to the room next to jMr. Oswald's," 
 she added to Boston. 
 
 And the valet again departed. 
 
 Q 2
 
 228 
 
 HILARY ST. IVES. 
 
 XV. 
 
 THE SKETCH. 
 
 Secretly delighted Avitli the success of her 
 scheme, and equally well pleased with the favour- 
 able impression which she saw Hilary had pro- 
 duced on her young lady, :Mrs. Sutton declared 
 she could not remain out a moment longer, as she 
 had a great deal to do. On this hint May imme- 
 diately rose to accompany her, and Hilary rose 
 likewise, naving first secured his letter with its 
 valuable contents. The housekeeper was just 
 about to offer him her arm when they were ar-
 
 HILARY ST. IVES. 229 
 
 rested by the cheeiy voice of Oswald, who was 
 hastening towards them, and came up the next 
 moment. He was attended by Neptune, the water- 
 spaniel, whose dripping coat showed he had been 
 in the lake. ISIi's. Sutton availed herself of this 
 opportunity to escape, and with a glance at May 
 hurried towards the house. Neptune bounded 
 towards his young mistress, and barked joyously 
 as if offering her a greeting. A slight feeling of 
 jealousy was awakened in Oswald's bosom wdien 
 he perceived Hilary. However, he nodded good 
 naturedly to him, but addi'essed himself in the 
 first instance to May, as in duty bound. 
 
 " Good morrow, fair coz," he cried. " If I 
 were a ])oet I wovdd have prepared a sonnet for 
 the occasion, but as I have no talent in that line, 
 you must accept my good wishes clothed in the 
 plainest prose." 
 
 May thanked him, but told him she had ex-
 
 230 HILARY ST. IVES. 
 
 pected to find liim in the garden when she first 
 came out. 
 
 " Do not suppose I have missed you," she added. 
 " I have been very much interested by some details 
 which Mr. St. Ives has been giving me of his 
 history. Are you aware he is an artist f 
 
 " An artist !" cried Oswald, looking at the young 
 man with an undefinable expression. " Perhaps I 
 ought to have guessed it, but I really did not — an 
 artist, eh ?" 
 
 " Yes, an artist, though not a very distinguished 
 one," replied Hilary, bowing. 
 
 " You know how fond I am of drawing, 
 Oswald," cried May. " Mr. St. Ives must give 
 me a few lessons." 
 
 The young man said he should be charmed to 
 do so. "But I suspect you have very little to 
 learn from me. Miss Eadcliffe," he added. 
 
 "By Jove, you are right," cried Oswald, laugh-
 
 HILARY ST. IVES. 231 
 
 ing. "My cousin May draws woiiderfully, and 
 has quite a turn for caricature. She made a 
 sketch of me and Neptune t'other day, that is 
 wortliy of a place in Punch. I have it with me, 
 and will show it you." 
 
 " I forbid you !" cried May. 
 But at an imploring look from Hilary she re- 
 lented, and the sketch was produced. 
 
 Very clever and very droll. Oswald Avas cer- 
 tainly cai-icatured, but the likeness was unmis- 
 takable. Keptune was admirably di'awn. 
 
 " What do you think of it?" said Oswald. 
 "Clever, eh r 
 
 "Capital!" exclaimed Hilary. "You do not 
 require any instructions from me, Miss Eadcliffe. 
 I despair- of rivalhng this sketch, but I will 
 attempt to make a companion to it, if you will 
 give me two or three minutes." 
 
 ]slay graciously assented, curious to test his skill.
 
 232 HILARY ST. IVES. 
 
 " Ah, I forgot," he exclaimed, with a look 
 of disappointment, " I have no materials with 
 me." 
 
 " They are easily procured," said May. " I 
 won't let you off. Fly, Oswald. My sketcli-book 
 is in the drawing-room. Bring a pencil with 
 you." 
 
 A word from his fair cousin was a command 
 for Oswald. He ran swiftly towards the house, 
 and was back again almost immediately, bringing 
 with him the things he had been sent for. 
 
 "Now, then, let us see what you can do," he 
 cried, as he gave them to Hilary. '• Ten to one 
 you don't equal May's performance." 
 
 " I should lose the wager if I took it," replied 
 Hilary. " I won't tax your patience too severely. 
 Miss Radcliffe," he added. " You can't be better 
 placed than you are." 
 
 " Pray introduce Neptune."
 
 HILARY ST. IVES. 233 
 
 " And your humble servant," added Oswald. 
 
 Seating himself upon the bencli, Hilary opened 
 the sketch-book, and finding a blank page, at once 
 set to work, with a rapidity and freedom of touch 
 that augured well for the successful execution of 
 his task. Conscious of his own power he had no 
 misgiving. "With the quick eye of a true and 
 practised artist, he seized upon all May's charms 
 of feature and person, and transferred them with 
 almost photographic accuracy, and yet with a 
 grace that no photograph can reach, to the sheet 
 of paper before him. May's colour rose as she 
 felt his keen dark eye fixed upon her, but she did 
 not alter her position. Couched at her feet, 
 Neptune remained quiet, though looking up at her 
 face. 
 
 In an inconceivably short space of time Hilary 
 had completed his task. A masterly sketch. May 
 was reproduced to the life, in all her grace and
 
 234 HILARY ST. IVES. 
 
 beauty. She blushed with pleasure as the sketch 
 was submitted to her. 
 
 " I have not done you justice, but that is impos- 
 sible," observed Hilary. 
 
 " You have flattered me very much," rejoined 
 May. 
 
 " No such thing," cried Oswald. " The sketch 
 is wonderfully like. 'Pon my soul, you are a 
 devilish clever artist, St. Ives, that I must say. 
 But I bargained for a place, and you have left me 
 out altogether. Too bad." 
 
 "I will take you some other time," rejoined 
 Hilary, smiling. 
 
 " You think I should have spoiled the sketch, 
 eh?" 
 
 " I did not say so, or mean so. You will see 
 that I have dated the sketch. Miss Radcliffe. May 
 I venture to beg }'our acceptance of it as a trifling 
 memorial of the day." 
 
 Graciously accepted.
 
 HILARY ST. IVES. 235 
 
 "I must show the sketch to mamma," cried 
 !May. " It will enchant her. I am going to her 
 room. Have I permission to relate your history to 
 her ? She will be so much interested by it." 
 
 " You will oblige me by doing so," replied 
 Hilary. 
 
 And she tripped off towards the house, followed 
 by Neptune. 
 
 Certain it is that Oswald had already become 
 jealous of the handsome young stranger, who had 
 somehow contrived to interest his fair cousin ; but 
 he was very good-hearted, and tried to keep down 
 the feelings of disHke and distrust which he felt 
 rising in his breast. After all, he thought, the 
 young chap is only an artist. So as soon as 
 May was gone he put on rather a patronising 
 manner, and said, 
 
 "That sketch of ]\Iiss Radcliffe is capital. I 
 must have a copy of it — hang the price." 
 
 " I shall be very happy to copy the sketch for
 
 236 HILARY ST. IVES. 
 
 you. But I cannot accept payment," replied 
 Hilary, rather haughtily. 
 
 " Too proud, eh ?" 
 
 " Xo, not too proud," rejoined the other. 
 "But I am under great obligations to you, and 
 shall be delighted to make any little return in my 
 power." 
 
 " I tell you what it is, my dear fellow," cried 
 Oswald, who, though very good-natured, was apt 
 to commit blunders. " I think I can find you a 
 good job." 
 
 "I do not require a job," rejoined the ether, 
 coldly. 
 
 " Hear what it is, before you decline it. 
 There's a devilish handsome woman coming here 
 this morning — Lady Richborough. Perha])s you 
 may heard of her, or seen her?" 
 
 Hilary shook his head. 
 
 "AYell, she's a stunner — handsome enough to
 
 HILARY ST. IVES. 237 
 
 take away your breath. Hasn't she a seat on 
 horseback ? — Miss Reynolds is nothing to her. 
 Can't she handle a cue? I rather think so. I 
 played "with her at billiards yesterday. Every 
 attitude was a study. I couldn't strike a ball, and 
 got knocked to pieces in no time. I think I could 
 get her to sit to you — or you might sketch her 
 off-hand, as you took my cousin jNIay just now." 
 "Anything you wish. Command me." 
 "Thanks. I know you'll be struck of a heap 
 when you see her ladyship. Her brother, Sir 
 Charles Ilminster, wouldn't make a bad portrait, 
 and I dare say he'd sit, if I asked him. I will, 
 if you like. They were both talking about you 
 yesterday — wondering who you were ; but I 
 couldn't tell them you are an artist, for I didn't 
 know it myself then." 
 
 " Don't fancy for a moment that I am ashamed 
 of my profession. But I don't care to obtrude it."
 
 238 HILARY ST. IVES. 
 
 " Exactly. I understand. No man need be 
 ashamed of his profession — whatever it may be 
 — provided it's respectable. Perhaps Sir Charles 
 may invite you to Boxgrove. If he does, go. 
 Picturesque old place. Just suit you. Lots of 
 artists go to see it. Maclise and Calderon went 
 to see it a few weeks ago. Nash has it in his 
 'Mansions of the Olden Time.' All in perfect 
 preservation. Magnificent banquet-hall, with 
 great carved oak screen, gallery, moulded ceiling 
 and pendants. Grand old oak staircase. Long 
 corridors filled with old family portraits — dames 
 and knights. Not one of the former beauties 
 half so lovely as Lady Richborough, though. 
 And for that matter. Sir Charles is better look- 
 ing than any of his ancestors. What with por- 
 traits, carved chimney-pieces, tapestried chambers, 
 and antiquated furniture, you'll find a great deal 
 to your taste at Boxgrove, I can promise you." 
 
 " From what you say I make no doubt I
 
 HILARY ST. IVES. 239 
 
 should/' replied Hilary. " You give mc an ex- 
 cellent idea of the old place, and your description 
 of Lady Richborough is quite captivating." 
 
 "Does no justice to the original, as you'll ad- 
 mit when you see her. She's a beauty — and no 
 mistake. But come I we must be moving towards 
 the house. The eona; will soon sound for break- 
 fast. I think my aunt will make her appear- 
 ance. A very charming person — but I forget 
 you've seen her." 
 
 " I have," replied Hilar}-, " and I quite agree 
 with you. She is charming." 
 
 " Thinks herself still twenty-five — that's her 
 only fault," replied Oswald, laughing. " Apropos 
 of pictures! you'll see her portrait, by Grant, in 
 the dining-room. Laud it to the skies, and you'll 
 win her heart." 
 
 With this he offered his arm, and they walked 
 at a very leisurely pace to the house. 
 
 Just as they reached the terrace, Mr. Radcliffe
 
 240 HILARY ST. IVES. 
 
 came forth, witliout his hat, looking very cheer- 
 ful and hearty. Shaking hands cordially with 
 Hilary, he congratulated him upon his recovery. 
 
 " He's curious to know who and what you 
 are," whispered Oswald. " Shall I enlighten him 
 as to the artistic profession ?" 
 
 " By all means," replied the young man. 
 
 Oswald then imparted all he knew to his uncle, 
 Avho did not seem surprised to learn that Hilary 
 w'as an artist. 
 
 " Glad to hear it," he cried. " You could have 
 no better recommendation to me. A man of 
 talent is always welcome at Hazlemere." 
 
 More might have been said, but the gong 
 sounded, and they went in to breakfast.
 
 HILARY ST. lYES. 241 
 
 XYI. 
 
 BREAKFAST. 
 
 The dining-room, in which breakfast was 
 served, was large and well-proportioned, being 
 designed for hospitality on a grand scale ; but 
 ]\Ir. Radcliffe, owing to his wife's delicate health, 
 only gave small dinners, never exceeding ten or 
 twelve. With its round table, massive sideboard, 
 thick Tiu'key carpet, folding screens, portraits 
 and pictures, the room had a very comfortable 
 air. French windows opened upon the terrace, 
 and a side window looked out upon the parterres 
 
 VOL. I. R
 
 242 HILARY ST. IVES. 
 
 and walls covered with magnolias, which we have 
 previously described. Over the chimney-piece 
 hung a full-length portrait of the lady of the 
 liouse, with her then infantine daughter — the 
 work of an eminent artist, since elevated to the 
 chair of the Eoyal Academy. Other noticeable 
 pictm'es graced the walls, the chief among them 
 being a pony and a Scotch terrier of the Dandie 
 Dinmont breed, by Sir Edwin, a marine piece 
 by Stanfield, and the high altar in the church 
 of the Holy Apostles at Home, by Roberts. 
 
 Such was the ordinary appearance of the room ; 
 but this being an extraordinary occasion, it had 
 quite a fioral aspect, befitting the day. Flowers 
 everywhere — on the chimney-piece, and on the 
 corners of the sideboard. Choice plants from the 
 o-reenhouse and conservatory were placed on tem- 
 porary stands. A beautifully arranged flower 
 vase occupied the centre of the table; and the
 
 HILARY ST. lYES. 243 
 
 initials of the young ]\Iay Queen, traced with 
 great skill on the snow-white cover in flowers of 
 various hues, produced a charming effect. The 
 atmosphere was warm and odorous, JMrs. Ead- 
 cliffe having ordered a fire, and enjoined that 
 no window should be left open. 
 
 May and her mother were in the room when 
 the gentlemen entered. For a wonder Mrs. Ead- 
 cKffe had come down thus early, more, w^e think, 
 from the desire to please Hilary, than from 
 regard for her lovely daughter. INIay was occu- 
 pied at the breakfast table, at wdiich she always 
 officiated. Her mother was standing by the fire, 
 looking slight, delicate, graceful, carefidly got 
 up with an eye to effect, and holding an em- 
 broidered kerchief in her hand. Hilary's quick 
 eye took in at a glance the decorations of the 
 room, the persons within it, and the pictures. 
 Oswald set up a shout, and fairly clapped his 
 K 2
 
 244 HILARY ST. IVES. 
 
 hands. Having first tenderly embraced his 
 daughter and given her his blessing, the old 
 gentleman began to look around, and expressed 
 his satisfaction at the arrangements, though he 
 secretly wished he could let a breath of air into 
 the room. 
 
 Meanwhile, Hilary had advanced to Mrs. 
 Radcliffe, by whom he was very graciously re- 
 ceived, though she rallied him on his want of 
 candour towards her on their first meeting. 
 
 "Why did you not tell me you are a painter, 
 Ml". St. Ives? What need of concealment? 
 Artists are my delight. I am proud to number 
 Sir Edwin and several others of note among my 
 friends." 
 
 Hilary excused himself as he best could, 
 adding that he was not worthy to be classed with 
 the distinguished painters she had mentioned, 
 being merely a tyro.
 
 HILARY ST. IVES. 245 
 
 "Do not disparage yourself," said the lady, 
 witli one of her most captivating smiles. "Your 
 sketch of ni}' daughter proves you have consum- 
 mate skill. I must put your power to a severer 
 test." 
 
 "I shall never dare to try my feeble hand, 
 after seeing that matchless performance," he 
 replied, glancing at the portrait. " You have 
 been fortunate in finding a painter capable of 
 appreciating you and doing you justice. Ah ! if 
 I could ever hope to rival that." 
 
 "Why should you not?" 
 
 "Because it is perfection, and vmapproachable. 
 Its beauty drives me to despair." 
 
 "You have one requisite for success in your 
 profession," remarked Mrs. Eadcliffe, smiling. 
 "You can flatter gracefully." 
 
 " You should see Sir William Newton's minia- 
 ture of my aunt," interposed Oswald. "That's
 
 246 HILARY ST. IVES. 
 
 something like a portrait. It's an out-and-out 
 better likeness than this." 
 
 "That I must take leave to deny, though I 
 have not seen it," replied Hilary. " A miniature 
 may be exquisite, but it ^vill not bear a moment's 
 comparison with a finished oil-painting such as 
 we have before us. " 
 
 " I can take no part in this discussion as to 
 the relative merits of the pictiires," observed Mrs. 
 Radcliffe, smiling. "But I am rather partial to 
 the miniature, I must own." 
 
 "It is considered Sir William's chef-d'oeuvre, 
 and by very good judges," remarked ISIr. Rad- 
 cliffe. 
 
 "I must defer to the general opinion," said 
 Hilary. "But " 
 
 " You maintain your own," observed Mrs. Rad- 
 cliffe. "Well, you shall see the miniature by- 
 and-by, and then you can fairly decide."
 
 HILARY ST. IVES. 247 
 
 " Meantime, I must beg you to bestow a glance 
 on my pony and clog," cried May, joining the 
 group near the fire-place. " Are they not charm- 
 ingly painted?" 
 
 As may l)e supposed, Hilary was enchanted 
 Avith the picture, whicli was really admirable, and 
 was still extolling it, when Mr. Luff, the butler, 
 who was almost as portly as his master, and 
 about the same age, waddled into the room, 
 followed by Boston, bearing a chased silver 
 cofTee-pot, which emitted a grateful odour, cutlets, 
 broiled salmon-trout, and all the et ceteras re- 
 quisite for a good breakfast. 
 
 Hereupon, the whole party sat down at table. 
 Hilary was assigned a seat between the two 
 ladies, and feeling now quite at ease, since full 
 explanation had been given, he conversed natu- 
 rally and agreeably. There was certainly a 
 fascination in his manner, which both mother and
 
 248 HILARY ST. IVES. 
 
 (laughter experienced in an almost equal degree. 
 Even ISIi'. Radcliffe was delighted with him. 
 Oswald had a keen appetite that morning — 
 indeed, he was a famous trencherman at all 
 times — and devoted himself to the cold chicken 
 and Montanches ham, with which Mr. Luff, who 
 knew his tastes, supplied him, leaving the talking 
 to be done by Hilary, and only now and then 
 putting in a word. But he began to think the 
 young man was getting on rather too well with 
 his aunt and his fair cousin, and that it behoved 
 him to put a stop to it, but he didn't see exactly 
 how the thing was to be done at the moment. 
 No such feelings influenced Mr. Radcliffe. 
 Nothing pleased him better than to see his wife 
 and daughter pleased. And they evidently were 
 so. If the truth must be told, the worthy old 
 gentleman, who was not insensible to the import- 
 ance of rank, was secretly much disappointed
 
 HILARY ST. IVES. 249 
 
 that May could not make up her mind to accept 
 Sir Charles llminster. He had talked the matter 
 over "with her quietly on the previous evening, 
 and had dilated on the advantages of the alliance, 
 which were palpable enough, as well as on Sir 
 Charles's merits, which were equally palpable, but 
 he could not induce her to alter her decision. 
 All he could obtain was a promise that she 
 would not give the baronet an absolute refusal. 
 Just now, M'hen they first met, he had taken her 
 aside for a moment and questioned her, but her 
 sentiments remained unchanged. 
 
 He felt half disposed to be angry, but as he 
 gazed at her fair face, and saw how happy she 
 seemed, the feeling quickly vanished, and he 
 tried to reconcile himself to his disappointment. 
 He saw plainly enough that her charms had 
 produced an effect upon Hilary ; but that ^lay 
 would ever bestow a serious thought upon a poor
 
 250 HILARY ST. IVES. 
 
 artist, however handsome and agreeable he might 
 be, never entered his head. So he ate his break- 
 fast tranquilly, and joined in the conversation 
 whenever opportunity offered. 
 
 May was of the same opinion as her father. 
 Not conceiving it possible she could entertain a 
 feeling stronger .than that of common interest for 
 a nameless artist, she did not think it necessary 
 to be on her guard, or to adopt a distant manner 
 towards him, which might at once liave crushed 
 his hopes, if he ventured to indulge any. Un- 
 consciously, therefore, she encouraged him, so 
 that the flame, already kindled in liis bosom, 
 began to burn more fiercely, and, before break- 
 fast was over, he Avas desperately in love with her. 
 
 Mrs. Radcliffe, who had watched him nar- 
 rowly, and was gifted with very quick powers 
 of observation in such matters, quite understood 
 the state of his feelin2;s.
 
 HILARY ST. IVES. 251 
 
 She also thought May was sliglitly touched ; 
 but on this pohit she did not feel quite sure. 
 
 Before she came down stairs, ]\Irs. Eadcliffe 
 had had a brief couA^ersation with her daughter 
 respecting Sir Charles, but had not — doubtless 
 from the best motives — attempted to dissuade her 
 from declining his offer. 
 
 Inquiring about the })lans for the day, Oswald 
 was informed that nothing could be settled until 
 after tlie arrival of grandpapa. 
 
 "We must wait at home for him, of course," 
 remarked May. 
 
 *' Besides, you will have visitors, in all proba- 
 bility," observed her mamma. 
 
 "Yes, I think you may expect Sir Charles 
 and his sister at luncheon," said Oswald, inno- 
 cently. "Her ladyship told me they meant to 
 ride oA'cr this morning to offer their compliments 
 to May."
 
 252 HILARY ST. IVES. 
 
 " Very kind," said the young lady, glancing at 
 mamma. 
 
 "I shall be very glad to see them," remarked 
 ^Irs. Eadcliffe. "I hope we may prevail upon 
 them to stay dinner." 
 
 " I don't think that at all likely, mamma," said 
 May. 
 
 " At any rate I shall ask them," observed papa. 
 
 Breakfast, which had been somewhat profuse, 
 was now nearly over. Already Mrs. Eadcliffe 
 had began to complain of fatigue. Begging 
 Hilary to excuse her, she rose with the intention 
 of retiring to her boudoir. Oswald flew to open 
 the door, when Avho should come in but Mr. 
 Thornton — in his hat and great-coat, just as he 
 had arrived. 
 
 He stood still for a moment or two, to give 
 full effect to his appearance, chuckling inwardly 
 at his daughter's well-feigned surprise, and at
 
 HILARY ST. IVES. 253 
 
 the exclamations of astonishment that rose from . 
 the breakfast-table. 
 
 He then bm'st into a loud laugh, and called 
 out, " Didn't expect to see me, eh ? Grandpapa 
 couldn't be absent on his darling May's birthday. 
 Where is she ? — where is my child ? Let her 
 gladden my eyes." 
 
 " Here I am, dearest grandpapa," cried May, 
 rushing towards him, and flinging her arms 
 round his neck. " Thank you so much for 
 coming to see me to-day." 
 
 " I couldn't keep away, I tell you, though 
 you didn't invite me,' he rejoined, pressing his 
 lips to her smooth brow. " Bless you, my love I 
 Many, many happy returns of the day. I haven't 
 forgotten you," he added, giving her the box of 
 trinkets. 
 
 " Another birthday present !" exclaimed May. 
 
 " Only a few trifles. Look at them by-and-by."
 
 254 HILAEY ST. IVES. 
 
 He tlien advanced into the room, embraced his 
 daughter, who professed to be charmed by liis 
 wholly unexpected visit, and shook hands very 
 cordially with Mr. Radcliffe and Oswald. He did 
 not pay much attention to Hilary, who had got 
 up to examine the pictures, and whose back was 
 towards him. 
 
 " Just in time," cried Mr. Radchffe. " We 
 haven't half done breakfast, and if we had we 
 could l)egin again. Hot coffee in a minute." 
 
 " Let me help you off with yom' great-coat, 
 sir," said Oswald. 
 
 " Stop a minute !" cried ^Ii*. Thornton, as- 
 suming a mysterious air. "Fact is, I've brought 
 a friend with me." 
 
 "Delighted to hear it," replied Mr. Kadcliffe. 
 " Bring him in at once. Has your friend break- 
 fasted?" 
 
 "No, we left town early," replied Mr. Thorn-
 
 HILARY ST. IVES. 255 
 
 ton. Becoming still more mysterious, he added 
 to his daughter, " An old friend of yours, my 
 dear — an old and valued friend — has come pur- 
 posely to see you." 
 
 " An old friend of mine !" she exclaimed, struck 
 by his manner, and having a strange presenti- 
 ment of the truth. " Oh ! good gracious, papa 
 — how could you ? Why not let me know before- 
 hand ? I can't be taken by surprise in this way. 
 You know how frightfully nervous I am, and the 
 sudden apparition of an old friend whom I didn't 
 expect might kill me. Don't tell me who he is 
 — don't. Bring him to my boudoir after you 
 have had breakfast. By that time I shall be 
 prepared." 
 
 " But my dear " 
 
 Mrs. Radcliflfe would not listen to a word more, 
 but hurried away. 
 
 Not to the boudoir, however, but to Mrs.
 
 256 HILARY ST. IVES. 
 
 Sutton's room. She trembled lest she should find 
 any one in tlie hall — but she did not. Where 
 eould he be ? 
 
 The door of tlie housekeeper's room was closed, 
 but voices could be heard within. Her presenti- 
 ments were correct. It was he. She knew his 
 voice. She Avould liave taken flight instantly, if 
 she had had the power to move. But her strength 
 was gone, and she was obliged to lean against the 
 wall for support.
 
 HILARY ST. IVES. 257 
 
 XVII. 
 
 "VfHAT PASSED IN THE HOUSEKEEPER'S ROOM. 
 
 Not many minutes before Mr. Thornton pre- 
 sented liimself at the dining-room door, as pre- 
 viously rehited, he and Colonel Delacombe had 
 arrived at Hazlemere. Determined to carry out 
 his plan in his own way, the old gentleiivan would 
 not allow the servants to give any intimation of 
 their arrival ; but directing Mr. LufF to look after 
 the luggage, and pay the coachman who had 
 driven them from the station, he begged the 
 
 VOL. I. S
 
 258 HILARY ST. IVES. 
 
 colonel to wait for him for a few moments, and 
 left him. 
 
 Colonel Delacombe was standing near the door, 
 finishing his cigar, and wondering within himself 
 whether all would go off smoothly, when a livid 
 face appeared before him. The expression of the 
 face was so deadly and menacing, that a thrill of 
 apprehension shot through his frame. 
 
 Mrs. Sutton had witnessed the arrival of the 
 two gentlemen from a back window that looked 
 upon the yard, and though filled with rage and 
 terror on beholding Colonel Delacombe, for whose 
 appearance she was unable to account, she re- 
 solved at once to have an explanation with him. 
 
 The opportunity was offered her by Mr. Thorn- 
 ton. With wonderful self-command under the 
 circumstances, she approached the unwelcome 
 visitor, and begged him to step into her room 
 for a moment. Though he would have gladly
 
 HILARY ST. IVES. 259 
 
 avoided the interview just then, the colonel could 
 not refuse, but, throwinfr away his cigar, followed 
 lier immediately. 
 
 Closing the door, she put no further constraint 
 upon herself, but fixing a determined look upon 
 liim, demanded, in threatening tones : 
 
 " What brings you here ? To come hither to 
 molest me is an act of madness on your part, as 
 you ought to feel. If there is to be war between 
 us, I shall not shrink from it, and be sure you 
 will not come off victorious. I Avill use all the 
 weapons I possess against you, and I have many, 
 without scruple." 
 
 The colonel, who was a very cool hand, did 
 not seem alarmed, and she proceeded yet more 
 fiercely. 
 
 " What has brought you here, I ask again ? 
 Do you wish to expose me? Take care. I am 
 dangerous — more dangerous tlian you suspect, 
 s 2
 
 260 HILARY ST. IVES. 
 
 Utter a word, and I will retaliate. Mark what I 
 say — retaliate. Certain papers have just fallen 
 into my hands, which place you completely in my 
 power. Now do you understand ? " 
 
 " Poh ! poh ! " cried Colonel Delacombe. " This 
 is mere raving, and only makes me doubt your 
 sanity. You ask if I have come to expose you. 
 Knowing nothing about you, what can I have to 
 expose? You ask what has brought me here. 
 I will tell you in a word. I have come at the 
 special invitation of my worthy old friend, Mr- 
 Thornton, simply for the pleasure of renewing 
 my acquaintance with his daughter, ISIrs. Ivad- 
 cliffe, and with no intention whatever of troubling 
 you. Indeed, I only accidentally learnt you were 
 here. Having so far satisfied you, I must beg to 
 put an end to this interview — entirely unsought 
 on my part — unless you can be content to talk 
 rationally and calmly. Recriminations are ridi-
 
 HILARY ST. IVES. 261 
 
 culous. I have no accusation to bring against 
 you. To the best of my knowledge, I never 
 saw you before yesterday. I then fancied — 
 mind, it was only fancy — that you resembled 
 one whom I dearly loved in former years, hut 
 loliom I hioio to he dead. I am sorry to see the 
 likeness has wholly disappeared, and has given 
 place to something totally different. I acknow- 
 ledge my mistake, and apologise for it." 
 
 " It is no mistake, Seymour," she rejoined, in a 
 more subdued tone, and with something even of 
 sadness. "She whom you formerly professed to 
 love still lives." 
 
 " I know better," he said, coldly. " She has 
 been dead these twenty years." 
 
 " I could easily convince you to the contrary. 
 But there is no need, since you are fully aware of 
 the fact." 
 
 " Excuse me, madam," said the colonel. " I
 
 262 HILARY ST. IVES. 
 
 don't see why this discussion should he prolonged, 
 or to what it can possibly lead. I have given 
 yovi my positive assurance that I do not design 
 to meddle with you, and you may depend upon 
 it I will keep my word. Even if there were any 
 secret between you and myself — and there is none 
 — it would be my interest to keep it. You can, 
 therefore, have nothing to apprehend from me. 
 So far from desiring to molest you, if I can tender 
 you any service, I shall be dehghted to do so, 
 and you have only to command me." 
 
 Mrs. Sutton looked at him for a moment with 
 irrepressible tenderness, and, in spite of her efforts, 
 tears sprang to her eyes, but she checked her 
 emotion. 
 
 " I am very sorry on all accounts that you have 
 come here at this juncture," she said. "Your 
 presence cannot fail to produce awkward compli- 
 cations, and may lead — in spite of all my care to 
 prevent them — to untoward consequences."
 
 HILARY ST. IVES. 2 Go 
 
 ^' I will leave immediately, if I find I am in 
 the way," he said. 
 
 "That would not mend matters," she rejoined. 
 " Undoubtedly, you are in the way — very much 
 in the way — but yom- immediate departure would 
 provoke remark, and excite suspicion. Since you 
 have come it is best you should stay. You owe 
 me much. I will not reproach you. I will not 
 threaten you more. I Avill not appeal to the past. 
 But I implore you to compassionate me — to serve 
 me." 
 
 " Since you adopt this tone, I will do anything 
 you require," replied the colonel, attempting to 
 take her hand, which she withdrew with a 
 shudder. 
 
 " Promise me, then — promise me solemnly," 
 she cried, " that, during your stay here, whatever 
 you may learn, or whomsoever you meet, you 
 will give no explanation that can in the remotest 
 degree compromise me. Above all, jiromise that
 
 264 HILARY ST. IVES. 
 
 you will make no allusion to our past con- 
 nexion." 
 
 "Though for the life of me I cannot imagine 
 what you allude to, I promise implicit secrecy on 
 all points," said the colonel, lightly. 
 
 " There must be no trifling," said Mrs. Sutton. 
 "My existence hangs upon your caution. Swear 
 that you will not breathe a word." 
 
 "I swear it/' replied the colonel. "Have you 
 anything more to say to me ? Any further direc- 
 tions to give?" 
 
 " None. Be cautious. Do not betray me or 
 yourself. Eecollect that I am merely the house- 
 keeper — nothing more. You must not stay longer 
 here. Mr. Thornton will be looking for you. I 
 will go with you to the hall." 
 
 As they issued forth they saw a retreating 
 figure at the end of the passage. 
 
 " Heavens !" ejaculated the housekeeper, " there
 
 HILARY ST. IVES. 265 
 
 is Mrs. Radcliffe. Can she have been here and 
 overheard us?" 
 
 " Diable ! I hope not," repHed the coloneh 
 " That would be a bad beginning." 
 
 When they reached the entrance hall, !Mrs. 
 Eadcliffe had disappeared. 
 
 She had flown up-stairs to her boudoir with a 
 precipitancy that perfectly electrified Aimette, 
 who chanced to witness the performance.
 
 266 HILARY ST. IVES. 
 
 XVIII. 
 
 A SECOND BREAKPAST. 
 
 ]Mrs. Sutton was. still with the colonel when 
 the dining-room door opened and INIr. Thornton 
 came forth with IVIr. Radcliffe. The latter shook 
 hands very heartily with his unexpected visitor, 
 welcomed him to Hazlemere, and told him how 
 delighted his wife would be to see liim. Orders 
 were then given to Mrs. Sutton, who had re- 
 sumed her customary role, to prepare a room for 
 the colonel, Mr. Thornton having his own room, 
 there was no occasion to say anything about that.
 
 HILAKY ST. IVES. 267 
 
 Further orders were given to tlie butler to serve 
 a second breakfast as quickly as possible ; and 
 these matters being arranged, Mr. Radclifife con- 
 ducted the colonel to the dining-room, and intro- 
 duced him to May. 
 
 No one else was in the room at the time. The 
 windows had been thrown open by Mr. Radcliffe, 
 and Oswald and EQlary had stepped out into the 
 garden. 
 
 May's charms sm'passed any notions that the 
 colonel had formed of them. She was struck by 
 his distinguished appearance and manner, but yet 
 more struck by a certain resemblance which she 
 fancied she detected between him and Hilary. 
 It could scarcely be fancy, for the resemblance 
 seemed to increase as she saw more of him. 
 
 After making all the complimentary speeches 
 proper to the occasion, admiring the floral deco- 
 rations of the room and the table, the colonel
 
 268 HILARY ST. IVES. 
 
 inquired, with an expression of gi'eat interest, 
 about mamma, and learnt that she had just retired 
 to her boudoir, but -would be delighted to see him 
 after breakfast. The portrait over the chimney- 
 piece next invited his attention, and he -was 
 expatiating with rapture upon its beauty, and 
 exclaiming, "Yes, there she is, just as I beheld 
 her last," when his rhapsodies were checked by 
 a summons to the breakfast -table from Mr. 
 Thornton. 
 
 " Sit down, colonel, pray sit down !" cried the 
 old gentleman. "I'm sure you must be hungry. 
 I am desperately so. A cup of coffee if you 
 please, May." 
 
 " Here it comes, grandpapa," she rejoined, as 
 a fresh supply of hot coffee, broils, tea-cakes, and 
 toast was brought in by the butler. 
 
 Meantime, Mr. Eadcliffe had been busy at the 
 sideboard carving cold fowl, ham, and tongue.
 
 HILARY ST. IVES. 2(39 
 
 SO that liis guests had wlierewithal to make 
 a good breakfast. The colonel differed from 
 Oswald. AVhile satisfying his appetite, lie con- 
 trived to converse most agreeably, and May was 
 never more entertained than by his lively discourse. 
 
 They were still at the breakfast-table when 
 the two younfT men, who were smokino- their 
 cigars on the terrace, passed rather slowly in front 
 of the window. 
 
 "Who the deuce have you got there, May?" 
 demanded Mr. Thornton, looking after them. 
 
 "Oswald's companion is Mr. Hilary St. Ives, 
 grandpapa," she replied. 
 
 "And who may Mr. St. Ives be? — what is 
 he ?" asked the old gentleman. 
 
 " An artist," returned May. 
 
 " An artist !" echoed ^Mr. Thornton, with a 
 strong expression of contempt. " Then he has no 
 business here."
 
 270 HILARY ST. IVES. 
 
 " Why not, dear grandpapa 1" slie rejoined. 
 "Besides, Mr. St. Ives was not invited." 
 
 And she then proceeded to explain how the 
 young man chanced to be at the house. Mr. 
 Thornton knew all about it, as we are aware ; 
 but he feigned ignorance, and when May had 
 finished her recital, signified his disapproval, and 
 told Mr. Radcliffe plainly he had been far too 
 kind. 
 
 "Nay, indeed, I must defend papa, if a kind 
 action can require defence," cried May. " It 
 would have been quite inconsistent with his 
 character to act otherwise. If he had done so, 
 I should not love him half as well as I do." 
 
 " Humph !" exclaimed the old gentleman. 
 " You mean to insinuate, you pert little minx, 
 that grandpapa has not the common feelings of 
 humanity, eh? May be not. His compassion 
 certainly does not proceed to this extent. Pos-
 
 HILARY ST. IVES. 271 
 
 sibly, lie miglit bring a Avouncled man home Avitli 
 him — though I think he -would ha^'e taken him 
 to an inn — but when the fellow had got Avell 
 enough to walk a1:)out and smoke a cigar, he 
 would have given him immediate notice to quit." 
 
 " All depends upon the person, dear grand- 
 papa," rejoined May. "Mi'. St. Ives is A-ery 
 clever, and very gentlemanlike, and when you 
 see him, you won't wonder that mamma has 
 invited him to remain a few days and recruit. 
 He has not quite recovered yet." 
 
 " He wouldn't be well now, if Sutton hadn't 
 nursed him so carefully," observed IMr. Eadeliffe. 
 " She has done more for him than the doctor." 
 
 "I dare say," rejoined the old gentleman. 
 " But you know nothing about the young man, 
 except that he's an artist, and I don't approve 
 of his remaining in the house. I shall talk to 
 your wife about him presently."
 
 272 HILARY ST. IVES. 
 
 " You may spare yourself the trouble, sir. You 
 won't produce mvicli effect," laughed Mr. Rad- 
 chffe. 
 
 "From the glimpse I caught of him just now, 
 the young man appears to be good-looking and 
 gentlemanlike," observed the colonel. 
 
 " Remarkably so," said Mr. Radcliffe. 
 
 " Let us go and have a look at him," cried the 
 old gentleman, rising. " Have you finished break- 
 fast, colonel f 
 
 " Quite," replied the other. 
 
 " I am sure you will be pleased with the young 
 man, colonel," remarked Mr. Radcliffe. 
 
 "Why so, sir?" 
 
 " Well, I have a reason. But see him first, and 
 then I'll tell it you." 
 
 " Since he has won the good opinion of Mrs. 
 Radcliffe and your daughter, I am sure to be 
 pleased with him," said the colonel.
 
 HILARY ST. IVES. 273 
 
 The wliole party tlien went out upon the 
 terrace. Colonel Delacombe was enchanted with 
 the prospect offered to his view. While he was 
 indulging in the raptures naturally called forth by 
 such a charming scene, Mr. Radcliffe looked about 
 for the young men. i^They had quitted the terrace. 
 Presently Oswald made his appearance, but he 
 was alone. 
 
 " What have you done with St. Ives f inquired 
 his uncle. 
 
 " Left him in the summer-house sketching," 
 replied the young man. 
 
 Oswald was then presented in due form to 
 Colonel Delacombe, who expressed particular plea- 
 sure on making his acquaintance. As the young 
 man drew back, he remarked in a whisper to his 
 uncle, 
 
 " Very odd ! Don't you perceive the like- 
 ness ?" 
 
 VOL. I. T
 
 274 HILARY ST. IVES. 
 
 " Likeness to whom ?" said his uncle, with a 
 droll look. 
 
 " Why to St. Ives, of course. Don't you per- 
 ceive it ? Surprising !" 
 
 " Hush ! not a word of that just now. I want 
 to see them together." 
 
 " Shall I bring St. Ives here ?" asked Oswald. 
 
 " No ; we'll go to the summer-house." 
 
 The plan, however, was defeated by Mrs. 
 Sutton, who brought her mistress's compliments 
 to Colonel Delacombe. Mrs. RadclifFe did not 
 feel quite strong enough to come down-stairs, 
 having rather over exerted herself that morning, 
 but would be delighted to see the colonel if he 
 would take the trouble to step up to her boudoii*. 
 
 " My mistress is all impatience to see you, 
 sir," added the housekeeper. 
 
 Of course the colonel was happy to obey the 
 summons, and bowing his excuses to May, fol-
 
 HILARY ST. IVES. 275 
 
 lowed the housekeeper, who waited to conduct liini 
 to her mistress. 
 
 This interposition destroyed Mr. Radchffe's 
 anticipated joke — at all events postponed it. So 
 he took Mr. Thornton to the summer-house. 
 
 Not for a moment did Mrs. Sutton forget her 
 part. The servants were moving about, and she 
 knew their eyes were upon her. Her demeanour 
 to the colonel as they went up-stairs was most 
 respectful. She told him a room had been pre- 
 pared for him, and that Boston, the valet, would 
 attend upon him. 
 
 But just before they reached the boudoir, she 
 said, in a low tone, 
 
 " Reassure yourself. She was there as we sup- 
 posed. But she heard nothing." 
 
 T 2
 
 276 HILARY ST. IVES. 
 
 XIX. 
 
 HOTT THEY MET AFTER LONG YEARS. 
 
 Not for the universe would Mrs. Eadcliffe 
 have had the meeting with her old lover take 
 place in the presence of any other person than 
 the housekeeper, to whom she had confided her 
 heart's secret. 
 
 " Oh ! he is come, Sutton !" she cried. " Sey- 
 mour is come ! Wliat am I to do ?" 
 
 Scarcely able to repress her own feelings of 
 aversion and scorn, the housekeeper replied, that
 
 HILARY ST. IVES. 277 
 
 wliatever she might feel, she owed it to her 
 liusband and her daughter to keep calm. There 
 must be no outward manifestation of emotion 
 — no fainting — no hysterics — no scene. 
 
 " There shall be nothing of the kind, I promise 
 you, Sutton." 
 
 " Treat him merely as an old friend, whom you 
 are rejoiced to see again. That is what you ought 
 to do — must do." 
 
 "I mean to do so. There shall be no display of 
 emotion. But I must see him alone. I dread the 
 first meeting. That over, I shall be myself." 
 
 The housekeeper objected to this very strongly, 
 but suffered herself to be overcome, perceiving, 
 probably, that Mrs. Radcliffe would have her own 
 way. 
 
 She was occupied for the next half hour in 
 the ungrateful, to her almost revolting, task of 
 preparing her mistress for the interview. Mrs.
 
 278 HILARY ST. IVES. 
 
 Eaclcliffe made many alterations in her toilette, 
 and was scarcely satisfied in the end. 
 
 " How would he like to see me, do you think, 
 Sutton f she asked, with the anxiety of a girl. 
 
 " Will this do r 
 
 The housekeeper muttered a reply, in -^'shich 
 contempt was thinly veiled. 
 
 "NoAv you can bring him to me, Sutton," she 
 cried. " Stay ! we have forgotten one thing — his 
 miniature !" 
 
 " What of it '?" asked the housekeeper, sharply. 
 
 " Kestore it to its place. I would have him 
 notice it." 
 
 Mrs. Sutton reluctantly complied, and the 
 miniature was hung up again. 
 
 " Xow do have pity upon me, there's a dear 
 creature, and bring him to me directly," entreated 
 Mrs. Radcliffe. " No one else, mind." 
 
 " Pity !" ejaculated the housekeeper, as she left
 
 HILARY ST. IVES. 279 
 
 the boudoii-, and could give vent to her feeUngs. 
 "Miserable woman, expect no pity from me. 
 When the time comes, I Avill have payment in 
 full." 
 
 As soon as she was alone, Mrs. Radcliffe sur- 
 veyed herself in her mirror, with the eye of an 
 experienced coquette, glancing at her coiffure, 
 and examining the minutest details of her dress. 
 A trifle of rouge being given to her cheek, she 
 thought she would do. She then seated herself 
 in her fauteuil in the most graceful attitude she 
 could assume. A flutter of excitement agitated, 
 her breast, as she heai'd his footsteps in the 
 passage. 
 
 The door opened. INIrs. Sutton ushered in the 
 colonel, and immediately retired, though not 
 without casting a bitter and vindictive look at 
 licr mistress. 
 
 Mrs. Radcliffe did not rise. With an exclama-
 
 280 HILARY ST. IVES. 
 
 tion of pleasure, she extended her hand towards 
 him. 
 
 He took it, and pressed the deKcate fingers to 
 his hps. 
 
 A brief interval ensued, during whicli both 
 were silent. In thought they had flown back 
 to former days. Both were young again. He 
 still retained her hand, and the thin fingers 
 trembled in his grasp. She became perceptibly 
 agitated, and her lips quivered, but, determined 
 not to give way, she motioned him to take a seat 
 opposite her, and he complied. 
 
 " This is indeed a pleasure to me, Seymour," 
 she said, with a tenderness of expression which 
 she could not control. " I never expected to 
 behold you again." 
 
 "And I never expected — never intended to 
 return to my native country," he replied, in much 
 the same tone. " But circumstances have brought 
 me back, and my first visit is to you, Esther."
 
 HILARY ST. TVES. 281 
 
 She smiled faintly. 
 
 " I am truly glad to see you. Accept my 
 congratulations upon your brilliant achievements 
 in India, and upon the honours you have won. 
 All your friends must feel proud of you. I do." 
 
 " If you are proud of me, Esther, I am content. 
 I care more for your esteem than that of any 
 other. I have won distinction, hut I am not 
 happy." 
 
 " You ought to be happy, Seymour." 
 
 " You know well why I am not, Esther. You 
 are happy, I presume. You have a charming 
 daughter — a most lovely girl — your image. The 
 sight of her almost unmanned me." 
 
 " May is far lovelier than I ever was, Seymour. 
 I hope you like Mr. Radcliffe? " 
 
 " I appreciate his good qualities and his bon- 
 homie ; but I cannot forgive him for robbing 
 me " 
 
 "No more of this, Seymour. Not a word
 
 282 HILARY ST. IVES. 
 
 against my liusbaiidj or you forfeit my friend- 
 ship entirely." 
 
 " You quite mistake me. I have not the 
 shghtest idea of disparaging him. I am sure 
 Mr. Eaddiffe is a pattern husband. Well, you 
 see I have kept my word. I have returned from 
 India as I went out — a bachelor. I deserve some 
 praise, for 1 might have made more than one 
 capital match." 
 
 " I cannot doubt it, Seymour," she rejoined. 
 "But, pardon me — you say bachelor — ought you 
 not rather to describe yourself as a widower?" • 
 
 " A widower !" he exclaimed, staring at her. 
 " What mean you, Esther ? " 
 
 Mrs. Radcliffe made no reply, but looked down 
 and played with her eye-glass. 
 
 The colonel rose from his seat and approached 
 her. 
 
 " There is only one person on earth whom I
 
 HILARY ST. IVES. 283 
 
 would have married, and she jilted me," he said, 
 earnestly. 
 
 " There you wrong her," replied the lady. 
 " She did not jilt you, Seymour, and you know it. 
 She Avas forced to give }'ou up. Pray do not 
 recal that unhappy time." 
 
 "I would not give you an instant's pain if I 
 could help it, Esther. Far less do I desire to 
 open long-closed wounds. But you appear to 
 have got a notion in your head which it is 
 necessary' I should remove." 
 , " Eeally, Seymour, I meant nothing. It was 
 merely a foolish fancy of my own. Forgive me 
 for making the observation. I see it has dis- 
 turbed you." 
 
 " From any other lips than yours the remark 
 would have been perfectly indifferent to me, 
 and I should have laughed at it. But I cannot 
 allow you to labour under the sUghtest misappre.
 
 284 HILARY ST. IVES. 
 
 liension. Some mischief-maker must have hinted 
 this to you. By-the-by," he added, in a care- 
 less tone, and as if changing the subject, " you 
 have got a very superior sort of person as house- 
 keeper." 
 
 " He suspects Sutton, I perceive," thought ]Mrs. 
 Radchffe. " I am not surprised you should be 
 struck with her. Most people are so. Mrs. Sutton 
 has lived ^\^th me nineteen years — ever since May 
 was born, in fact — and is invaluable to me." 
 
 " Who is she ? " asked the colonel. " She 
 looks like a lady." 
 
 "I know little of her pre'vious history, except 
 that she was married very young to a worthless 
 man, who deserted her, but fortunately died. I 
 have not questioned her much about her hus- 
 band, as you may suppose, for the subject is 
 extremely painful to her. Apparently, she has 
 no ties, for I never hear her speak of her rela-
 
 HILARY ST. IVES. 285 
 
 tions. She lias devoted herself exclusively to me, 
 and I have the greatest confidence in her." 
 
 "I am sure yovu' confidence is not misplaced. 
 You are most fortunate in possessing such a 
 treasui'e." 
 
 "She is a treasure, and I should be sorry to 
 lose her. She might marry very well, if she 
 chose. Mr. Malliam, the surgeon — a most re- 
 spectable man, and very well to do — has spoken 
 to me about her, but she Avon't listen to him for 
 a moment. She has had too bitter an experience 
 of wedded life to run a second risk." 
 
 " The housekeeper is mistress here, that I can 
 see," thought the colonel. "I am glad on your 
 account, though sorry for poor Malliam, that 
 Mrs. Sutton has so decided," he added, aloud. 
 " AYhat a charming boudoir you have got ! An 
 Indian life would suit you, Esther. You would 
 be idolised at Calcutta or Bombay. Why not
 
 286 HILARY ST. IVES. 
 
 go back with me when I return — and I haven't 
 got long leave? — taking JVIr. Radcliffe and May 
 with you, of course." 
 
 "Plow can you make such an absurd proposi- 
 tion?" she exclaimed. But she did not seem 
 displeased, and added, with a half sigh, "I do 
 think my delicate health might be improved by 
 a few years spent in a climate like that of India." 
 
 "Not a doubt of it. Apropos of India, I see 
 you have got my old Bengal tiger here. The 
 magnificent brute who once owned that skin 
 might have made a meal of me. My first shot 
 only wounded him. He sprang upon my ele- 
 phant, who had enough to do to bear his weight, 
 killed my mahout, and in another instant would 
 have reached my howdah, if I had not despatched 
 him by a ball through the brain. I never shall 
 forget the ferocious aspect of the beast as I fired. 
 It was an awful moment."
 
 HILARY ST. IVES. 287 
 
 "I have your letter describing tlie terrific en- 
 counter, Seymour. In fact, I have all your 
 letters." 
 
 The colonel did not seem much gratified by 
 the information. But he made no remark. 
 
 " I keep them in that casket," pursued the lady. 
 "Look round. Do you notice anything over the 
 chimney-piece ? Any souvenir of former days ?" 
 
 " Ah ! the miniature I gave you. That was 
 taken in my beaux jours. I had not a scarred 
 cheek and a grey moustache then." 
 
 " The scar improves you, Seymour, and so 
 does the grey moustache." 
 
 He then fell into raptures Avith the other minia- 
 ture, and was still admiring it when the door 
 opened, and ]\Ir. Radcliffe came in. 
 
 " Sony to interrupt your tete-a-tete," he re- 
 marked, in an apologetic tone. "But you will 
 excuse me I am sure, my love."
 
 288 HILARY ST. IVES. 
 
 " We have no more secrets to discuss," replied 
 tlie lady. 
 
 " In that case I need not hesitate. Mr. St. 
 Ives is without," he added, with a significant 
 glance at Ins wife. " Have I your permission to 
 bring him in." 
 
 Charmed by the idea of witnessing the meeting, 
 Mrs. Radcliffe graciously assented. 
 
 " Come in !" cried Mr. Kadcliffe. 
 
 Thereupon Hilary entered the boudoir, fol- 
 lowed by Mr. Thornton, who was obliged to hold 
 a handkerchief to his mouth to stifle his merri' 
 ment. 
 
 ^Ir. Eadcliffe went through his part very well, 
 though lie had to check a strong tendency to 
 laughter. 
 
 " Allow me, colonel, to present to you our 
 young artist, Mr. Hilary St. Ives," he said, leading 
 the young man forward. 
 
 Colonel Delacombe moved politely towards him,
 
 HILARY ST. IVES. 289 
 
 but suddenly stopped and stared at Hilary, who 
 looked quite as much astonished as himself. 
 
 Thus brought face to face, the resemblance be- 
 tween them was seen to be very striking, allowing, 
 of course, for difference of age. Even their height 
 corresponded as nearly as might be, though the 
 colonel was a trifle the taller of the two. Natu- 
 rally, the advantages of youth were on Hilary's 
 side, and the palm of good looks must have been 
 assigned to him, but he wanted the refinement of 
 manner and proud mihtary bearing that lent so 
 much distinction to the bronzed and scarred 
 soldier. 
 
 Half-suppressed laughter reached the colonel's 
 ears, warning him that he was the object of a 
 practical joke. He glanced at Mr. Kadcliffe, as 
 much as to say, " I now understand why the 
 young fellow was brought here." He then ad- 
 dressed Hilary. 
 
 VOL. I. U
 
 290 HILAKY ST. IVES. 
 
 " Glad to know you, Mr. St. Ives. Your 
 features appear familiar to me." 
 
 " I should think they must be," muttered Mr. 
 Thornton ; " uncommonly familiar." 
 
 "I was about to make the same remark, colonel," 
 said Hilary. " If it were not presumption on my 
 part, I would venture to observ^e " 
 
 " That you have discovered a likeness," supplied 
 Mr. Kadcliffe, laughing. " So have we all." 
 
 "Never saw such a likeness in all my born 
 days !" exclaimed Mr. Thornton, indulging in a 
 roar. "Excuse me, colonel — I can't help it — 
 ha! ha!" 
 
 " I won't affect to misunderstand what you 
 mean," said the colonel, joining in the laugh. 
 "You pay me a much greater compliment than 
 you do Mr. St. Ives." 
 
 "I should be proud to be thought like you, 
 colonel," said Hilary.
 
 HILARY ST. IVES. 291 
 
 '• Then make yourself easy on that score, young 
 man," remarked IMr. Thornton. 
 
 JVIrs. EadclifTe, who had looked on through her 
 eye-glass, much amused by the scene, added her 
 testhnony to that of her father. 
 
 " We have provided you with a son, colonel," 
 said ]Mr. Thornton, in a loud whisper. 
 
 " A son !" exclaimed the other. " My good sir, 
 I wish I had such a son as ISIr. St. Ives. But 
 you know very well I have never married." 
 
 While making the assertion, he cast a glance at 
 !Mi's. Eadcliffe, and saw that she was smiling. 
 
 "Excuse me, colonel," said Hilary. "May I 
 venture to ask if you chance to know JSIr. Com'te- 
 nay of Exeter ? — or have had any correspondence 
 with him V 
 
 " Courtenay ! I know lots of Courtenays. 
 Major Courtenay, of the 2nd Foot, is my bosom 
 friend ; and Captain Chichester Courtenay, of the
 
 292 HILARY ST. IVES. 
 
 21st, is another great friend. But they are both 
 in India — one at Bombay, the other at Madras. I 
 have no acquaintance with Mr. Courtenay of 
 Exeter, nor have I ever corresponded with him. 
 Does your friend belong to the Devon family ?" 
 
 Hilary shook his head, abashed. 
 
 Before any further questions could be put, an 
 interruption was offered by May, who came to 
 inform her mother that Lady Richborough and 
 Sir Charles had just arrived. 
 
 " Indeed !" exclaimed Mi's. RadcHffe. " I didn't 
 expect them so soon. Well, go at once with your 
 papa to receive them. I will come down as soon 
 as I can. You will like Sir Charles," she added 
 to Colonel Delacombe. 
 
 " I'm sure of it," he rejoined. " I've heard of 
 him. He was in the — th Lancers." 
 
 " I will say nothing about his sister. Lady 
 Richborough, except that you are certain to fall
 
 HILARY ST. IVES. 293 
 
 in love with her. Go clown and see her. Mr. 
 RadclifTe will introduce you." 
 
 " Yes, come along," cried that gentleman. 
 " You'll find her ladyship a most charming 
 person." 
 
 "I must beg to be introduced at the same 
 time," said ]\ir. Thornton, following them. 
 
 Thus ]\Ii's. Eadcliffe was left alone with Hilary. 
 What passed between them will be learnt anon. 
 
 I5nti of tfje Jpirst 33ociU. 
 
 END OF VOL. I. 
 
 VOL. I.
 
 LONDON: 
 C. WHITING, BEAUFOKT HOCSB, DUKE STREET, LINCOLN'S-INN-FIELDS.