7A 

 
 L I B R.ARY 
 
 OF THE 
 
 UN IVERSITY 
 
 or ILLINOIS
 
 BY BIRTH A LADY.
 
 LONDON : 
 ROBSON AND SONS, PRINTERS, PANCRAS ROAD, N.W.
 
 BY BIRTH A LADY. 
 
 % ®alt. 
 
 GEORGE MANVILLE FENN, 
 
 AUTHOR OF ' MAD,' ' WEBS IN THE WAY,' ETC. 
 
 IN THREE VOLUMES. 
 VOL. I. 
 
 LONDON: 
 TINSLEY BROTHERS, 18 CATHERINE ST., STRAND. 
 
 1871. 
 
 lAll rights reserved.]
 
 
 CONTENTS OF VOL. I. 
 
 1 
 
 II. 
 III. 
 IV. 
 
 (O VI, 
 
 VIII. 
 
 IX. 
 
 X. 
 
 \ XI. 
 
 \^. XII. 
 
 \ XIII. 
 
 ^ XIV. 
 ^ XV. 
 ^ XVI. 
 ^^XVII. 
 f^VIII. 
 
 K,xix. 
 
 ^xx. 
 
 Something about a Letter 
 
 PAGE 
 
 I 
 
 'BaiJove!' 
 
 i6 
 
 Blaxdfield Court .... 
 
 • 38 
 
 Concerxixg ^[atrimony . 
 
 48 
 
 Charley's Encounters . 
 
 . 60 
 
 A SECOND Meeting .... 
 
 86 
 
 A dawning Sense .... 
 
 • 95 
 
 Shooting an Arrow 
 
 107 
 
 An unexpected Protector 
 
 . 118 
 
 Ella's Comforter .... 
 
 . 142 
 
 Croquet and Koquet . . - . 
 
 158 
 
 Cross upon Cross .... 
 
 175 
 
 The Clearing of a Doubt 
 
 189 
 
 A Family Party .... 
 
 201 
 
 Charley's Fete .... 
 
 214 
 
 The Echoes of Charley's Declaration 
 
 227 
 
 A Vial of Wrath .... 
 
 234 
 
 Analysis of the Heart . 
 
 241 
 
 The Making of a Compact 
 
 251 
 
 Ella's Eesolve 
 
 264 
 
 ^ 
 
 s
 
 BY BIRTH A LADY. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 so:methixg about a letter. 
 
 ' He mustn't have so much corn. Joseph,' 
 said Mr. Tiddson, parish doctor of Croppley 
 Magna, addressing a grinning boy of six- 
 teen, who, with his smock-frock rolled up 
 and twisted round his waist, was holding 
 the bridle of a very thin, dejected-looking 
 pony, whose mane and tail seemed to have 
 gone to the cushion - maker's, leaving in 
 their places a few strands that had missed 
 the shears. The pony's eyes were half 
 shut, and his nose hung low; but, as if 
 attending to his master's words, one ear 
 
 VOL. I. B
 
 A BY BIETH A LADY. 
 
 was twitched back, while the other pointed 
 forward ; and no sooner had his owner 
 finished speaking than the poor little beast 
 whinnied softly and shook its evidently 
 remonstrating head. ' He mustn't have so 
 much corn, Joseph,' said Mr. Tiddson im- 
 portantly. 'He's growing wild and vicious, 
 and it was as much as I could do this morn- 
 ing to hold him.' 
 
 'What did he do, zir?' said the boy, 
 grinning a wider grin. 
 
 ' Do, Joseph ? He wanted to go after 
 the hounds, and took the bit in his teeth, 
 and kicked when they crossed the road. I 
 shall have to diet him. Give him some 
 water, Joseph, but no corn.' 
 
 The poor pony might well shake his 
 head, for it was a standing joke in Croppley 
 that the doctor tried experiments on that 
 pony: feeding him with chaff kept in an 
 oaty bag, and keeping him low and grey-
 
 SOMETHING ABOUT A LETTEE. 6 
 
 hound -like of rib, for the sake of speed 
 when a union patient was ill. 
 
 But the pony had to be fetched out 
 again before Joseph had removed his sad- 
 dle; for just as Mr. Tiddson was taking off 
 his gloves and overcoat, a man came run- 
 ning up to the door, and tore at the bell, 
 panting the while with his exertions. 
 
 'Well, what now? Is Betty Starger 
 worse ?' 
 
 'No,' — puff — 'no, sir;' — puff — 'it's — 
 it's—' 
 
 ' Well? Why don't you speak, man?' 
 
 ' Breath, sir !' — puff. ' Eun — all way !' — 
 puff. 
 
 'Yes, yes,' said Mr. Tiddson. 'And 
 now what is it ?' 
 
 ' Hax — haxiden, sir,' puffed the mes- 
 senger. 
 
 ' Bless my soul, my good man ! Where ?' 
 exclaimed the doctor, rubbing his hands.
 
 4 BY BIRTH A LADY. 
 
 'Down by Crossroads, sir; and they 
 war takin' a gate off the hinges to lay him 
 on, and carry him to the Seven Bells, when 
 I run for you, sir.' 
 
 ' And how was it ? — and who is it ?' said 
 the doctor. 
 
 ' Gent, sir ; along o' the hounds.' 
 
 ' Here, stop a minute,' exclaimed the 
 doctor, ringing furiously till a servant 
 came. 'Jane, tell Joseph to bring Peter 
 round directly; I'm wanted. — Now go on, 
 my good man,' he continued. 
 
 ' See him comin' myself, sir. Dogs 
 had gone over the fallows, givin' mouth 
 bea-u-u-tiful, when he comes — this gent, 
 you know — full tear, lifts his horse, clears 
 the hedge, and drops into the lane — Rug- 
 ley-lane, you know, sir, where the cutting 
 is, with the sand-martins' nestes in the 
 bank. Well, sir, he comes down nice as 
 could be, and then put his horse at t'other
 
 SOMETHING ABOUT A LETTER. 
 
 bank, as it couldn't be expected to get up, 
 though it did try; and then, before you 
 know'd it, down it come back'ards, right 
 on to the poor gent, and rolled over him, 
 so that when three or four on us got up he 
 was as white and still as your 'ankychy, 
 sir, that he war; and so I come off arter 
 you. And you ain't got sech a thing as a 
 drop o' beer in the house, have you, sir ?' 
 
 'Xo, my man, I have not,' said Mr. 
 Tiddson, mounting his steed, which had 
 just been brought round to the front; 'but 
 if you will call at my surgery when I re- 
 turn, I daresay I can find you a glass of 
 something. — Go on, Peter.' 
 
 But Peter did not seem disposed to go 
 on ; and it was not until his bare ribs had 
 been drummed by the doctor's heels, and he 
 had been smitten between the ears by the 
 doctor's umbrella, that he condescended to 
 shuffle off in a shambling trot — a pace that
 
 b BY BIRTH A LADY. 
 
 put the messenger to no inconvenience to 
 keep alongside, since it was only about half 
 the rate at which he had brought the news. 
 
 To have seen Mr., or, as he was gene- 
 rally called, Dr. Tiddson ride, any one 
 would have called to mind the printed form 
 upon his medicine labels — 'To be well 
 shaken;' for he was well shaken in the 
 process, and had at short intervals to push 
 forward his hat, which made a point of get- 
 ting down over his ears. But, though not * 
 effectively, Dr. Tiddson and his pony Peter 
 managed to shuffle over the ground, and 
 arrived at the Seven Bells — a little road- 
 side inn — just as four labouring men bore 
 a gate to the door, and then, carefully lift- 
 ing an insensible figure, carried it into the 
 parlour, where a mattress had been pre- 
 pared by the landlady. 
 
 Dr. Tiddson did not have an accident 
 to tend every day, while those he did have
 
 SOATETHrNiG ABOUT A LETTER. / 
 
 to do mth were the mishaps of very or- 
 dinary people. This, then, was something 
 to make him descend from his pony with 
 the greatest of dignity, thro^ving the reins 
 to the messenger, and entering the little 
 parlonr as if monarch of all he surveyed. 
 
 ' Tut — tut — tut I' he exclaimed. ' Clear 
 the room directly ; the man wants air. 
 Mrs. Pottles, send every one out, and lock 
 that door.' 
 
 The sympathising landlady obeyed, and 
 then the examination commenced. 
 
 'Hum!' muttered the doctor. 'Eibs 
 crushed — two, four, certainly ; probable 
 laceration of the right lobe ; concussion of 
 the brain, evidently. And what have we 
 here ? Dear me ! A sad case, Mrs. Pottles; 
 a fracture of the clavicle, I fear.' 
 
 ' Lawk a deary me ! Poor gentleman ! 
 he 'ave got it bad,' said the landlady, rais- 
 ing her hands.
 
 8 BY BIRTH A LADY. 
 
 'Yes, Mrs. Pottles,' said tlie doctor, 
 compressing his lips, ' it is, I fear, a serious 
 case. But we must do what Ave can, Mrs. 
 Pottles — we must do what we can.' 
 
 ' Of course we must, sir !' exclaimed 
 the landlady. 'And what shall us do 
 first ?' 
 
 ' Let me see ; another pillow, I think, 
 Mrs. Pottles,' said the doctor, not heeding 
 the question. ' He will not be able to leave 
 here for some time to come.' 
 
 Mrs. Pottles sighed ; and then from 
 time to time supplied the doctor with band- 
 ages, water, sponge, and such necessaries 
 as he needed ; when, the patient presenting 
 an appearance of recovering from his swoon, 
 they watched him attentively. 
 
 ' He won't die this time, Mrs. Pottles,' 
 said the doctor, with authority. 
 
 ' Lawk a deary me ! no, sir, I hope not,' 
 said the landlady — ' a fine, nice, handsome
 
 SOMETHING ABOUT A LETTEE. 9 
 
 young fellow like he ! He'll live and break 
 some 'arts yet, I'll be bound. It's all 
 very well for old folks like us, sir, to die ; 
 but I shouldn't like to see him go that-a- 
 way — just when out taking his pleasure, 
 too.' 
 
 Mr. Tiddson did not consider himself 
 one of the ' old folks,' so did not reply. 
 
 ' A poor dear !' said Mrs. Pottles. ' I 
 wonder who he is? There'll be more 'n 
 one pair o' bright eyes wet because of his 
 misfortun', I know. You've no idee, sir, 
 how like he is to my Tom — him as got 
 into that bit of trouble with the squire, sir.' 
 
 ' Pooh, woman ! — not a bit. Tchsh !' 
 
 The raised finger of the doctor accom- 
 panied his ejaculation, as the patient un- 
 closed his eyes, muttered a little, and then, 
 turning his head, seemed to sink into a 
 state of half sleep, half stupor. 
 
 The doctor sat for some time before
 
 10 BY BIRTH A LADY. 
 
 speaking, frowning severely at the land- 
 lady, and then impatiently pulling down 
 the blind to get rid of half a dozen lads, 
 who were spoiling the symmetry of their 
 noses against the window. 
 
 'I s'pose you have no idea who he is?^ 
 said the doctor at last. 
 
 ' Not the leastest bit in the world, sir. 
 They do say they've had a tremenjus run 
 to-day. But perhaps we shall have some 
 of the gents coming back this way, and 
 they may know him.' 
 
 ' Precisely so, Mrs. Pottles ; but you'd 
 better feel in his pockets, and we may be 
 able to find out where his friends are, and 
 so send them word of his condition.' 
 
 ' Lawk a deary me, sir ! But wouldn't 
 it be wrong for me to be peeping and pok- 
 ing in his pockets ? But how so be if you 
 wish it, sir, I'll look.' 
 
 ' I dont wish it, Mrs. Pottles ; but it is
 
 SOMETHING ABOUT A LETTER. 11 
 
 our duty to acquaint his friends, so you 
 had better search.' 
 
 Now Mrs. Pottles's fingers were itching 
 to make an examination ; and doubtless, 
 had the doctor left, her first act would 
 have been to ' peep and poke,' as she termed 
 it ; so, taking up garment after garment, 
 she drew out a handsome gold watch and 
 seal chain with an eagle crest ; then a 
 cigar-case bearing the same crest, and the 
 letters ' C. Y. ;' and lastly a plain porte- 
 monnaie, containing four sovereigns and 
 some silver. 
 
 'No information there, Mrs. Pottles. 
 But I'll make a list of these, and leave 
 them in your charge till the patient re- 
 covers.' 
 
 'Lawk a deary me, no, sir, don't do 
 that! We're as honest as the day is long 
 here, sir, so don't put no temptation in our 
 way. Make a list of the gentleman, if you
 
 12 BY BIRTH A LADY. 
 
 like, and leave him in our charge, and we'll 
 nurse him well again ; but you'd better 
 take the watch and things along of you.' 
 
 ' Very good, Mrs. Pottles — ve-ery good,' 
 said the doctor, noting down the articles 
 he placed in his pocket, and thinking that, 
 even if called upon for no further atten- 
 dance, through the coming of some family 
 doctor, he was safe of the amount in the 
 portemonnaie, for he considered that no 
 gentleman would dream of taking that 
 back. 
 
 'And you think he'll get well, then, 
 sir ?' said Mrs. Pottles. 
 
 ' Ye-e-e-s — yes, with care, Mrs. Pottles 
 — with care. But I'll ride over to my sur- 
 gery now, and obtain a little medicine. I 
 shall be back in an hour.' 
 
 Mrs. Pottles curtsied him out, and then 
 returned to seat herself by her injured vis- 
 itor, looking with motherly admiration on
 
 SOMETHII^G ABOUT A LETTER. 13 
 
 his broad white foreheud and thick golden 
 beard, as she again compared him with her 
 Tom, who got into that bit of trouble with 
 the squire. But before the doctor had been 
 gone an hour, the patient began to display 
 sundry restless movements, ending by open- 
 ing his eyes mdely and fixing them upon 
 the landlady. 
 
 ' Who are you ? and where am I ?' he 
 exclaimed. ' Let me see, though — I recol- 
 lect now : my horse came down with me. 
 I don't think I'm much hurt, though.' 
 
 ' 0, but you are, sir, and very badly, 
 too. Mr. Tiddson says you are to be very 
 quiet.' 
 
 'Who the deuce is Mr. Tiddson?' said 
 the patient, trying to rise, but sinking back 
 Vv'ith a groan. 
 
 ' Lawk a deary me, sir ! I thought every- 
 body know'd Mr. Tiddson : he's our doctor, 
 and they do say as he's very clever ; but
 
 14 BY BIRTH A LADY. 
 
 he ain't in rheumatiz, for he never did me 
 a bit o' good.' 
 
 'Poor dad!' muttered the young man 
 thoughtfully, and then aloud : ' Give me a 
 pen and ink and a sheet of paper.' 
 
 ' But sewevly, sir, you're not going to 
 try to — ' 
 
 ' Get me the pen and ink, woman !' ex- 
 claimed the sufferer impatiently. 
 
 Mrs. Pottles raised her hands, and then 
 hurriedly placed a little dirty blotting-case 
 before her guest, holding it and the rusty 
 ink so that he was able to write a short 
 note, which he signed, and then doubled 
 hastily, for he was evidently in pain. 
 
 ' Let some man take that to the King's 
 Arms at Lexville, and ask for Mr. Bray. 
 If he is not there, let them send for him ; 
 but the note is to be given to no one else.' 
 
 ' Very good, sir,' said the woman; 'but 
 if s a many miles there. How's he to go?'
 
 SOMETHIXG AEOUT A LETTER. 15 
 
 'Eide — ride!' exclaimed the sufferer 
 impatiently, and then he sank back deeper 
 in his pillow. 
 
 'I didn't think, or I wonld have sent 
 for some one else,' he muttered, after a 
 pause; 'but I daresay he will come.' 
 
 And then he lay thinking in a dreamy, 
 semi-delirious fashion of the contents of that 
 note — a note so short, and yet of itself con- 
 taining matter that might bring to the 
 writer a life of regret, and to another, lov- 
 ing, gentle, and true-hearted, the breaking 
 of that true gentle heart, and the cold em- 
 brace of the bridegroom Death !
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 ' BAI JOVE !' 
 
 Three months after the incidents recorded 
 in the last chapter, Littleborough Station, 
 on the Great Middleland and Conjunction 
 Railway, woke into life; for it was nearly 
 noon, and the mid-day up-train would soon 
 run alongside of the platform, stay for the 
 space of half a minute, and then proceed 
 again on its hurrying, panting course to- 
 wards the great metropolis ; for though 
 such a thing did sometimes happen, the 
 taking up or setting down of passengers at 
 Littleborough was not as a matter of course. 
 Nobody ever wanted to come to Little- 
 borough, which was three miles from the 
 station, and very few people ever seemed
 
 BAI JO YE !' 17 
 
 to take tickets from Littleborough to pro- 
 ceed elsewhere : the consequence being that 
 the station-master — a fair young man with 
 budding whiskers, and a little cotton-woolly 
 moustache — spent the greater part of his 
 time in teaching a rough dog to stand upon 
 his hmd-legs, to walk, beg, smoke pipes, 
 and perform various other highly interest- 
 ing feats, while the one porter spent his in 
 yawning and playing 'push halfpenny,' right 
 hand against left — a species of gambling 
 that left him neither richer nor poorer at 
 the day's end. But his yawning was some- 
 thing frightful, being extensive enough to 
 have startled a child into the belief that 
 ogres really had an existence in the flesh, 
 though the said porter was after all but a 
 simple, lazy, ignorant boor, with as little of 
 harm in his nature as there was of activity. 
 But, as before said, Littleborough Sta- 
 tion now woke into life ; for after crawling 
 
 VOL. I. c
 
 18 BY BIRTH A LADY. 
 
 into the bookinp^-office, and yawning fright- 
 fully at the clock, the porter went and 
 turned a handle, altering the position of a 
 signal, and then returned to find the sta- 
 tion-master framed in the little doorway 
 through which he issued tickets, and now 
 pitching little bits of biscuit for the dog 
 to catch. 
 
 ' Here's summun a-coming !' said the 
 porter, excitedly running to the door and 
 checking a yawn half-way. 
 
 ' No ! — is there ?' cried the station-mas- 
 ter, running out, catching up the dog and 
 carrying it in, to shut himself up once 
 more behind his official screen and railway- 
 clerk dignity. 
 
 ' Swell in a dog-cart, with groom a- 
 drivin',' said the porter aloud; and then, 
 as the vehicle came nearer : ' Portmanty 
 and bag with him, and that there gum's all 
 dried up, and won't stick on no labels.
 
 BAI JOTE V 19 
 
 Blest if here ain't somebody else, too, in the 
 'Borough fly, and two boxes on the toj^.' 
 
 The porter threw open the doors very 
 widely, the station-master tried his ticket- 
 stamper to see if it would work, and then 
 peered excitedly out for the coming tra- 
 vellers. 
 
 He had not to wait long. The smart 
 dog-cart was drawn up at the door; and as 
 the horse stood champing its bit and throw- 
 ing the white foam in all directions, a very 
 languid, carefully = dressed gentleman de- 
 scended, waved his hand towards his lug- 
 gage and wrappers in answer to the porter's 
 obsequious salute, and then sauntering, 
 cigar in hand, to the station - master's 
 pigeon-hole, he languidly drawled out : 
 
 ' First cla-a-ass — London.' 
 
 ' Twenty -eight -and -six, sir,' said the 
 station-master, when the traveller slowly 
 placed a sovereign and a half before him.
 
 20 BY BIRTH A LADY. 
 
 ' Tha-a-anks. Xo ! Give the cliange 
 to the porter fellare.' And the new arrival 
 strolled on to the platform, leaving the por- 
 ter grinning furiously, and carrying the port- 
 manteau and bag about without there being 
 the slightest necessity for such proceedings. 
 
 Meanwhile the fly had drawn up, the 
 driver dismounted, and opened the door for 
 a closely veiled young lady in black to 
 alight, when she proceeded to pay the man. 
 
 ^ Suthin' for the driver, miss, please,' 
 said the fellow gruffly. 
 
 ' I understood from your master that 
 the charge would be five shillings to the 
 station,' said the new arrival, in a low 
 tremulous voice. 
 
 ' Yes, miss, but the driver's alius hex- 
 try. Harf-crown most people gives the 
 driver.' 
 
 There was no sound issued from be- 
 neath that veil, but the motion of the dress
 
 BAI JOVE I' 21 
 
 showed that something very much Hke a 
 sio^h must have been struo-almoj for exit as 
 a little soft white hand drew a florin from 
 a scantily-furnished purse, and gave it to 
 the man. 
 
 ' Humph,' growled the fellow, ' things 
 gets wuss and wuss;' and climbing on to 
 his 130X - seat, he gathered up reins and 
 whip, and sat stolid and surly Avithout 
 moving. 
 
 ' Will you be kind enough to lift down 
 my trunks?' said the traveller gently. 
 
 ' You must ast the porter for that 'ere,' 
 said the man : ' we're drivers, we are, and 
 'tain't our business. Here, Joe, come and 
 get these here trunks off the roof;' and he 
 accompanied his words with a meaning 
 wink to the porter, which gentleman, in 
 the full possession of an unlooked - for 
 eighteenpence, felt so wealthy that he could 
 afford to be superciHous.
 
 22 BY BIETH A LADY. 
 
 'What class, miss?' he said, reaching 
 his hand to a trunk. 
 
 ' Third, if you please,' was the reply. 
 
 ' Ah ! there'll be something extry to 
 pay for luggidge : third - class passengers 
 ain't allowed two big boxes like these here. 
 — Why didn^t you put 'em down, Dick ?' 
 
 ' Ain't got half paid for what I did do,' 
 said the driver gruffly. ' People as can't 
 afford to pay for flies oughter ride in carts. 
 Mind that 'ere lamp!' 
 
 Certainly a lamp had a very narrow 
 escape, as trunk number one was brought 
 to the ground with a crash, the second one 
 being treated almost as mercilessly, but 
 without a word from their owner, who 
 quietly raising her veil and displaying a 
 sweet sad face, now went to the pigeon- 
 hole, regardless of the leering stare be- 
 stowed upon her by the exquisite, who had 
 sauntered back into the booking-office.
 
 ^baijoye!' 23 
 
 ' Third-class — London,' said the station- 
 master aloud, repeating the fair young 
 traveller's words. ' Xme- and -nine ;' and 
 he too bestowed a not very respectful stare. 
 
 The threepence change was handed to 
 the porter, T\'ith a request that he would 
 see the boxes into the van, which recjuest, 
 and the money, that incorruptible gentle- 
 man received with a short nod and an ' all 
 right,' pocketing the cash in defiance of all 
 by-laws and ordinances of the company. 
 
 Turning to reach the platform, the 
 young lady — for such her manners indicated 
 her to be — became aware of the fixed in- 
 solent stare of the overdressed gentleman 
 at her side, when quietly and without 
 ostentation the black fall was lowered, and 
 she walked slowly to and fro for a few 
 minutes, in expectation of the coming train 
 — hardly noticing that she was met at every 
 turn, and that the gentlemanly manoeuvres
 
 24 BY BIRTH A LADY. 
 
 were being watched with great interest by 
 station-master and porter. 
 
 • ' Nice day, deah !' was suddenly drawled 
 out ; and the traveller started to find that, 
 in place of being met at every turn, her 
 persecutor was now close by her side. 
 Quickening her steps, she slightly bent her 
 head and walked on; but in vain. 
 
 ' Any one going to meet you ?' was 
 next drawled out; when turning shortly 
 round, the young traveller looked the ex- 
 quisite full in the face. . . 
 
 'I think you are making a mistake, sir,' 
 she said coldly. 
 
 ' Mistake ? No, not I, my deah,' was 
 the insolent . reply. ■ Give me your . ticket, 
 and I'll change it;' and the speaker coolly 
 held out a tightly-gloved hand. 
 
 The black veil hid the flush; that rose 
 to the pale .face, as, glancing rapidly down 
 the hue for the train that seemed as if it
 
 ^ BAI JOVE !' 25 
 
 Avould never come, the traveller once more 
 quickened her steps and walked to the 
 other end of the platform; for there was 
 no waiting -room at the little wooden sta- 
 tion, one but newly erected by way of ex- 
 periment. 
 
 ' Xow, don't be awkward, my deah,' 
 drawled the exquisite, once more overtak- 
 mg her. ' Here we are both going to town 
 together, and I can take care of you. Pretty 
 gy urls like you have no business to travel 
 alone. Now, let me change your ticket;' 
 and again he stretched forth his hand. ' I'll 
 pay, you know.' 
 
 'Are you a gentleman, sir?' was the 
 sudden question in reply to his proposition. 
 
 .' Bai Jove, ya-a-a-s !' was the drawled 
 reply, accompanied by what was meant for 
 a most killing leer. 
 
 ' Then you will immediately cease this 
 unmanly pursuit V exclaimed the lady firm-
 
 26 BY BIRTH A LADY. 
 
 ly ; and once more turning, she paced along 
 the platform. 
 
 ' Now, how can you now,^ languidly 
 whispered the self-styled gentleman, ' when 
 we might be so comfortable and chatty all 
 this long ride ? Look here, my deah — 
 take my arm, and I'll see to your luggage.' 
 
 As he spoke, with the greatest effrontery 
 he caught the young traveller's hand in 
 his, and drew it through his arm — the sta- 
 tion-master and porter noting the perform- 
 ance, and nodding at one another ; but the 
 next moment the former official changed 
 his aspect, for the hand was snatched away, 
 and the young lady hurried in an agitated 
 manner to the booking-office. 
 
 ' Have you a room in which I could sit 
 down until the train comes?' she exclaimed. 
 ' I am sorry to trouble you ; but I am 
 travelling alone, and — ' 
 
 ' To be sure you are, my deah,' drawled
 
 27 
 
 the persecutor, who had laughingly followed, 
 ' when you have no business to do such 
 a thing, and I won't allow it. It's all right, 
 station - master — the train will be here 
 directly. I'll see to the lady: friend of 
 mine, in fact.' 
 
 'Indeed! I assure you, sir,' exclaimed 
 the agitated girl, ' I do not know this gen- 
 tleman. I appeal to you for protection.' 
 
 Here, in spite of her self-control, a sob 
 burst from her breast. 
 
 ' Here, this sort of thing won't do, sir,' 
 said the youth, shaking his head. ' I can't 
 allow it at my station. You mustn't annoy 
 the lady, sir.' And turning very pink in 
 the face, he tried to look important; but 
 without success. 
 
 'I think you have the care of this 
 station, have you not, my good lad?' drawled 
 the exquisite. 
 
 ' Yes, I have, sir,' was the reply, and
 
 28 BY BIRTH A LADY. 
 
 this time rather in anger, for the young 
 station-master hardly approved of being 
 called a ' good lad.' . 
 
 ' Then mind your station, hoy, and don't 
 interfere.' 
 
 ' Boy yourself, you confounded puppy !' 
 exclaimed the young fellow, firing up. 'I 
 never took any notice till the lady appealed 
 to me ; but if she was my sister, sir, I'd — 
 I'd — I don't know what I wouldn't do to 
 you!' 
 
 ' But you see she is not your sister ; and 
 you are making a fool of yourself,' drawled 
 the other contemptuously. 
 
 .'Am I?' exclaimed the young man, 
 whose better nature was aroused. 'I con- 
 sider that every lady who is being insulted 
 is the sister of an Englishman, and has a 
 right to his help. And now be off out of 
 this office, for I'm master here; and you 
 may report me if you like, for I don't
 
 'baijoveI' 29 
 
 care wlio you are, nor yet if I lose my 
 place.' 
 
 Red in the face, and strutting like a 
 turkey-cock, the young man made at the 
 dandy so fiercely, that he backed out on to 
 the platform, to have the door banged after 
 him so energetically, that one of the panes 
 of glass was shivered to atoms. 
 
 ' Come in here, miss, and I'll see that 
 he don't annoy you again. Why didn't you 
 speak sooner? Only wish I was going 
 up to London, I'd see you safe home, that 
 I Avould, miss ; only, you see, I should lose 
 my berth if I was absent without leave; 
 and that wouldn't do, would it? May 
 p'r'aps now, for that chap's a regular swell : 
 come down here last week, and been stay- 
 ing at old Sir Henry Warr's, at the Beeches; 
 but I don't care ; I only did what was right 
 — did I, miss?' 
 
 • Indeed, I thank you very, very much !'
 
 30 BY BIRTH A LADY. 
 
 exclaimed the protected one, holding out a 
 little hand, which was eagerly seized. ' It 
 was very kind; and I do sincerely hope I 
 may not have been the cause — ' 
 
 Here a sob choked further utterance. 
 
 ' Don't you mind about that,' said the 
 young man loftily, and feeling very exult- 
 ant and self-satisfied. ' I'd lose half a dozen 
 berths to please you, miss — I would, 'pon 
 my word. Don't you take on about that. 
 I'm your humble servant to command ; and 
 let's see if he'll speak to you again on my 
 platform, that's all!' 
 
 Here the young man — very young man 
 — ^breathed hard, stared hard, and blushed; 
 for his anger having somewhat evaporated, 
 he now began to think that he had been 
 very chivalrous, and that he had fallen in 
 love with this beautiful girl, whom it was 
 his duty to protect evermore : feelings, how- 
 ever, not at all shared by the lady, who,
 
 31 
 
 though very grateful, was most earnestly 
 wishing herself safely at her destination. 
 The embarrassing position was, however, 
 ended by the young station-master, who 
 suddenly exclaimed : 
 
 ' Here she comes !' 
 
 Then he led the way, pulling up his 
 collar and scowling very fiercely till they 
 reached the platform, where the exquisite 
 was languidly pacing up and down. 
 
 ' Now, you take my advice, miss,' said 
 the protector : 'you jump into the first cab as 
 soon as you get into the terminus, and have 
 yourself driven home: I'll see that you 
 ain't interfered with going up. I wish I 
 was going with you; and, 'pon my word, 
 miss, I should like to see you again.' 
 
 ' Indeed, I thank you very much,' said 
 the stranger. ' You have acted very nobly ; 
 and though you may never again be thanked 
 by me, you will have the reward of know-
 
 32 BY BIHTH A LADY. 
 
 ing that you have protected a sister in dis- 
 tress.' 
 
 She laid a stress upon the word ' sister,' 
 as if referring to the young fellow's manly 
 reply to the dandy. But now ' she' — that 
 is to say, the train — had glided up, when, 
 turning smartly — 
 
 ' See those boxes in, Joe !' exclaimed the 
 station-master; and then catching the tra- 
 veller's hand in his, he led her to the guard. 
 'Put this young lady in a compartment 
 where there's more ladies,' he said. ' She's 
 going to London, and I want you to see 
 that she's safely off in a cab, when she gets 
 there. She's my sister.' 
 
 'All right, Mr. Simpkin — all right,' said 
 the guard. 
 
 ' Good-bye, miss — good-bye !' exclaimed 
 the young man confusedly, shaking her 
 hand. ' Business, you know — I must go.' 
 
 Just at that moment a thous^ht seemed
 
 ^ BAI JOVE !' 33 
 
 to have struck the dandy, who made as if 
 to get to where the porter was thrusting 
 the two canvas - covered trunks into the 
 guard's van ; but he was too late. 
 
 ' Xow, then, sir, if you're going on !' 
 exclaimed the station - master. ' Third- 
 class?' he asked by way of a sneer. 
 
 ' Confound you I I'll serve you out for 
 this — bai Jove I will I' muttered the over- 
 dressed one, jumping hastily into a first- 
 class coupe^ when, looking out, he had the 
 satisfaction of seeing the young station- 
 master spring on to the step of a third-class 
 carriage, and ride far beyond the end of 
 the platform, before he jumped down and 
 waved him a triumphant salute as the train 
 swept by. 
 
 The dandy made a point of going up to 
 that carriage at every stopping - station 
 where sufficient time was afforded; but the 
 fair young traveller sat with her face stu- 
 
 VOL. I. D
 
 34 BY BIRTH A LADY. 
 
 cliously turned towards the opposite win- 
 dow. 
 
 ' I've a good mind to ride third-class for 
 once in a way,' the gentleman muttered, as 
 he passed the carriage during one stoppage. 
 
 Just then a child cried out loudly ; and 
 a soldier, smoking a dirty black pipe, thrust 
 his head out of the next compartment with 
 a ' How are you, matey ?' 
 
 ' Bai Jove, no ! Couldn't do it !' mur- 
 mured the exquisite, with a shudder; and 
 he returned to his seat, to look angry and 
 scowling for the rest of the journey. 
 
 He had made up his mind, though, as 
 to his proceedings when they reached Lon- 
 don; but again he was doomed to disap- 
 pointment; for on his approaching the object 
 of his pursuit in the crowd, he found the 
 stout guard a guard indeed in his care of 
 his charge ; when, angrily turning upon his 
 heel, he made his way to the luggage-bar.
 
 ^BAI JOVE !' 35 
 
 where, singling oat the particular trunks 
 that he had seen at Littleborough, he 
 pressed through the throng, and eagerly 
 read one of the direction-labels. 
 
 ' Bai Jove !' he exclaimed, with an air 
 of the most utter astonishment overspread- 
 in o; his face ; and then ao;ain he read the 
 direction, but only again to give utterance 
 to his former ejaculation — ' Bai Jove !' 
 
 He seemed so utterly taken aback that 
 he did not even turn angrily upon a porter 
 who jostled him, or upon another who with 
 one of the very boxes knocked his hat over 
 his eyes. The cab was laden and driven 
 oif before his face so slowly that, once more 
 alone, he could have easily spoken to the 
 veiled occupant. But, no: he was so ut- 
 terly astounded that when he hailed a han- 
 som, and slowly stepped in, his reply to 
 the driver as he peered down through the 
 little trap was only —
 
 36 BY BIRTH A LADY. 
 
 ' Bai Jove !' 
 
 ' Where to, sir ?' said the man, aston- 
 ished in his turn. 
 
 'Anywhere, my good fellow.' 
 
 ' All right, sir.' 
 
 ' No, no — stop. Drive me to the Wynd- 
 gate Club, St. James's-square.' 
 
 ' All right, sir.' 
 
 And the cab drove off, with its occu- 
 pant wondering and startled at the strange 
 fashion in which every -day affairs will 
 sometimes shape themselves, proving again 
 and again how much more wild the truth 
 can be than fiction, and musing upon what 
 kind of an encounter his would be with the 
 fair traveller when next he went home. 
 
 There was no record kept of the num- 
 ber of times the over-dressed gentleman 
 gave utterance to that peculiarly- drawling 
 exclamation ; but it is certain that he star- 
 tled his valet by jumping up suddenly at
 
 'baijoveT 37 
 
 early morn from a dream of his encounter, 
 to cry, as if disturbed by something almost 
 painful : 
 
 ' Who could have thought it ? Bai 
 JoveP
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 BLANDFIELD COURT. 
 
 ' Did you ring, sir ?' said a footman. 
 
 'Yes, Thomas. Go to Mr. Charles's 
 room, and tell him that I should be glad of 
 half an hour's conversation with him before 
 he eroes out, if he can make it conveni- 
 ent.' 
 
 The library-door of Blandfield Court 
 closed ; and after taking a turn or two up 
 and down the room, Sir Philip Yining — a 
 fine, florid, gray -headed old gentleman — 
 stood for a moment gazing from the win- 
 dow at the sweep of park extending down 
 to a glittering stream, which wound its 
 way amidst glorious glades of beech and 
 chestnut, bright in the virgin green of
 
 BLAXDFIELD COrRT. 39 
 
 spring. But anxious of mien, and ill at 
 ease, the old gentleman stepped slowly to 
 the handsome carved-oak chair in which he 
 had been seated, and then, intently watch- 
 ing the door, he leaned back, playing with 
 his double gold eyeglass. 
 
 Five minutes passed, and then a step 
 was heard crossing' the hall — a step which 
 made Sir Philip's face lighten up, as, lean- 
 ing forward, a pleasant smile appeared upon 
 his lip. Then a hea^y bold hand was laid 
 upon the handle, and the patient of Dr. 
 Tiddson — fair, flushed, and open-counte- 
 nanced — strode into the room, seeming as 
 if he had brought with him the outer sun- 
 shine lins^ering^ in his brio^ht brown hair 
 and golden beard. He swung the door to 
 with almost a bang; and then — free of 
 gait, happy, and careless-looking, suffering 
 from no broken rib, fractured clavicle, or 
 concussed brain, as predicted three months
 
 40 BY BIRTH A LADY. 
 
 before — he strode towards Sir Philip, who 
 rose hurriedly with outstretched hands. 
 
 ' My dear Charley, how are you this 
 morning? You look flushed. Effects re- 
 maining of that unlucky fall, I'm afraid.' 
 
 'Fall? Nonsense, dad! Never better 
 in my life,' laughed the young man, taking 
 the outstretched hands and then subsiding 
 into a chair. ' Mere trifle, in spite of the 
 doctor's long phiz.' 
 
 ' It is going back to old matters, but 
 I'm very glad, my dear boy, that I saw 
 Max Bray, and learned of your condition; 
 and I've never said a word before, Charley, 
 but why should you send for him in pre- 
 ference to your father?' 
 
 ' Pooh I — nonsense, dad ! First man I 
 thought of. Did it to save you pain. 
 Ought to have got up, and walked home. 
 But there, let it pass. Mind my cigar?' 
 
 ' No, no, my dear boy, of course
 
 BLAXDFIELD COURT. 11 
 
 not,' said the old gentleman, coughing 
 slightly. ' If it troubles me, I'll open the 
 window.' 
 
 • But really, flither,' said the young 
 man, laying his hand tenderly on Sir Philip's 
 arm, ' don't let me annoy you with my bad 
 habit.' 
 
 ' ^ly dear boy, I don't mind. You 
 know we old fogies used to have our bad 
 habits — two bottles of port after dinner, to 
 run down into our legs and make gouty 
 pains, eh, Charley — eh? And look here, 
 my dear boy — look here I' 
 
 Charley Vining laughed, and, leaning 
 back in his chair, bes^an to send huo^e clouds 
 of perfumed smoke from his cabana, as his 
 father drew out a handsome gold box, and 
 took snuff a /a courtier of George the Fourth's 
 day. 
 
 * I don't like smoking, my boy ; but it's 
 better than our old drinking habits.'
 
 42 BY BIRTH A LADY. 
 
 ' Hear — hear ! Cheers from the opposi- 
 tion !' laughed the son. 
 
 ' Ah, my dear boy, why don't you give 
 your mind to that sort of thing ? Such a 
 fine opening as there is in the county! 
 Writtlum says they could get you in with 
 a tremendous majority.' 
 
 ' Parliament, dad ? Nonsense ! Pretty 
 muff I should be ; get up to speak without 
 half-a-dozen words to say.' 
 
 ' JN'onsense, Charley — nonsense! The 
 Yinings never yet disgraced their name.' 
 
 ' Unworthy scion of the house, my dear 
 father.' 
 
 ' Now, my dear Charley !' exclaimed Sir 
 Philip, as he looked with pride at the stal- 
 wart young fellow who was heir to his 
 baronetcy and broad acres. ' But, let me 
 see, my dear boy; John Martingale called 
 yesterday while you were out. He says he 
 has as fine a hunter as ever crossed coun-
 
 bla:ndfield cotjet. 43 
 
 try : good fencer, well up to your weight — 
 such a one as you would be proud of. I 
 told him to brins; the horse on for vou to 
 see; for I should not like you to miss a 
 really good hunter, Charley, and I might 
 be able to screw out a cheque.' 
 
 ' My dear father,' exclaimed the young 
 man, throwincr his cio^ar-end beneath the 
 grate, ' there really is no need. Martin- 
 gale's a humbug, and only wants to palm 
 upon us some old screw. The mare is in 
 splendid order — quite got over my reckless 
 riding and the fall. I like her better every 
 day, and she'll carry me as much as I shall 
 want to hunt.' 
 
 ' I'm glad you like her, Charley. You 
 don't think her to blame ?' 
 
 ' Blame ? Xo ! I threw her down. I 
 hke her better every day, I tell you. But 
 you gave a cool hundred too much for her.' 
 
 ' Xever mind that. By the way. Char-
 
 44 BY BIRTH A LADY. 
 
 ley, Leathrum says they are liatching plenty 
 of pheasants : the spinneys will be full this 
 season; and I want you to have some good 
 shooting. The last poacher, too, has gone 
 from the village.' 
 
 ' Who's that ?' said Charley carelessly. 
 
 ' Diggles — John Diggles. They brought 
 him before me for stealing pheasants' eggs, 
 and I — and I — ' 
 
 'Well, what did you do, dad? Fine 
 him forty shillings?' 
 
 ' Well, no, my boy. You see, he threw 
 himself on my mercy — said he'd such a 
 character no one Avould employ him, and 
 that he wanted to get out of the coun- 
 try ; and that if he stopped he should 
 alwaj^s be meddling with the game. And 
 you see, my dear boy, it's true enough; 
 so I promised to pay his passage to Ame- 
 rica.' 
 
 ' A pretty sort of a county magistrate !'
 
 BLANDFIELD COUET. 45 
 
 laughed Charley. 'What do you think the 
 reverend rectors, Lingon and Braceby, will 
 say to you? Why, they would have given 
 John Dio:o:les a month.' 
 
 'Perhaps so, my dear boy; but the 
 man has had no chance, and — Xo ; sit still, 
 Charley. I haven't done yet; I want to 
 talk to you.' 
 
 ' All right, dad. I was only going to 
 give the mare a sj^in. Let her wait.' And 
 he threw himself back in his chair. 
 
 ' Yes, yes — let her wait this morning, 
 my dear boy. But don't say " All right !" 
 I don't like you to grow slangy, either in 
 your speech or dress.' He glanced at the 
 young man's easy tweed suit. 'That was 
 one thing in which the old school excelled, 
 in spite of their wine-bibbing propensities — 
 they were particular in their language, 
 dressed well, and were courtly to the other
 
 46 EY BIRTH A LADY. 
 
 ' Yes,' yawned Charley; 'but they were 
 dreadful prigs.' 
 
 ' Perhaps so — perhaps so, my dear boy,' 
 said the old gentleman, laying his hand 
 upon his son's knee. 'But do you know, 
 Charley, I should like to see you a little 
 more courtly and attentive to — to the la- 
 dies ?' 
 
 ' I adore that mare you gave me, dad.' 
 
 ' Don't be absurd. I want to see you 
 more in ladies' society; so polishing — so 
 improving !' 
 
 ' Hate it !' said Charley laconically. 
 
 ' Nonsense — nonsense ! Now look here !' 
 
 ' No, dad. Look here,' said Charley, 
 leaning towards his father and gazing full 
 in his face with a half-serious, half-banter- 
 ing smile lighting up his clear blue eye. 
 'You're beating about the bush, dad, and 
 the bird won't start. You did not send 
 for me to say that Martingale had been
 
 BLANDFIELI) COURT. 47 
 
 alDout a horse, or Leathrum had hatched 
 so many pheasants, or that Diggles was 
 going to leave the country. Frankly, now, 
 governor, what's ui the wmd ?' 
 
 Sir Philip Yining looked puzzled; he 
 threw himself back in his chair, took snuff 
 hastily, spilling a few grains upon his cam- 
 bric shirt-frill. Then, with his gold-box 
 in his left hand, he bent forward and laid 
 his right upon the young man's ample 
 breast, gazing lovingly in his face, and said : 
 
 'Frankly, then, my dear Charley, I 
 want to see you married !'
 
 CHAPTER lY. 
 
 CONCEBNING MATRIMONY. 
 
 Charles Yining gazed half laughingly in 
 his father's earnest face ; then throwing 
 himself back, he burst into an uncontrolled 
 fit of merriment. 
 
 'Ha, ha, ha! Me married! Why, my 
 dear father, what next?' Then, seeing the 
 look of pain in Sir Philip's countenance, 
 he rose and stood by his side, resting one 
 hand upon his shoulder. 'Why, my dear 
 father,' he said, 'what ever put that in your 
 head? I never even thought of such a 
 thing!' 
 
 ' My dear boy, I know it — I know it ; 
 and that's why I speak. You see, you are 
 now just twenty- seven, and a fine hand- 
 some young fellow — '
 
 CONCERNING PATRIMONY. 49 
 
 Charley made a grimace. 
 ' While I am getting an old man, Char- 
 ley, and the time cannot be so very far off 
 before I must go to my sleep. You are 
 my only child, and I want the Squire of 
 Blandfield to keep up the dignity of the 
 old family. Don't interrupt me, my boy, I 
 have not done yet. I must soon go the 
 way of all flesh — ' 
 
 ' Heaven forbid !' said Charley fer- 
 vently. 
 
 * And it is the dearest wish of my heart 
 to see you married to some lady of good 
 birth — one who shall well do the honours 
 of your table. Blandfield must not pass 
 to a collateral branch, Charley; we must 
 have an heir to these broad acres ; for I 
 hope the time will come, my boy, when in 
 this very library you mil be seated, gray 
 and aged as I am, talking to some fine stal- 
 wart son, who, like you, shall possess his 
 
 VOL. I. E
 
 50 BY BIRTH A LADY. 
 
 dear mother's eyes, ever to bring to re- 
 membrance happy days gone by, my boy — 
 gone by never to return.' 
 
 The old man's voice trembled as he 
 spoke, and the next moment his son's 
 hands were clasped in his, while as eye 
 met eye there was a weak tear glistening 
 in that of the elder, and the lines seemed 
 more deeply cut in his son's fine open 
 countenance. 
 
 ' My dear father !' said the young man 
 softly. 
 
 ' My dear Charley !' said Sir Philip. 
 
 There was silence for a while as father 
 and son thought of the days of sorrow ten 
 years back, when Blandfield Court was 
 darkened, and steps passed lightly about 
 the fine old mansion, because its lady — 
 loved of all for miles round — had been 
 suddenly called away from the field of la- 
 bour that she had blessed. And then they
 
 CONCERNIIVa MATRIMONY. 51 
 
 looked up to the portrait gazing down at 
 them from the chimneypiece, seeming al- 
 most to smile sadly upon them as they 
 watched the skilful limning of the beloved 
 features. 
 
 A few moments after, a smile dawned 
 upon the old man's quivering lip, as, still 
 retaining his son's hand, he motioned him 
 to take a seat by his side. 
 
 'My dear Charley,' he said at last, 'I 
 think you understand my wishes.' 
 
 ' My dear father, yes.' 
 
 ' And you will try ?' 
 
 ' To gratify you ? — Yes, yes, of course ; 
 but really, father — ' 
 
 ' My dear boy, I know — I know what 
 you would say. But look here, Charley — 
 there has always been complete confidence 
 between us ; is there — is there anything?' 
 
 'Any lady in the case? What, any 
 tender penchantT laughed Charley. 'My 
 
 LIBRARY
 
 52 BY BIRTH A LADY. 
 
 dear father, no. I think I've hardly given 
 a thought to anything but my horses and 
 dogs/ 
 
 ' I'm glad of it, Charley, I'm glad of it ! 
 And now let's quietly chat it over. Do 
 you know, my dear boy, that you are shut- 
 ting yourself out from an Eden ? Do you 
 not believe in love ?' 
 
 'Well, ye-e-es. I believe that you 
 and my dear mother were most truly 
 happy.' 
 
 ' We were, my dear boy, we were. And 
 why should not you be as happy ?' 
 
 ' Hem !' ejaculated Charley ; and then 
 firmly: 'Because, sir, I believe that there 
 is not such a woman as my dear mother 
 upon earth.' 
 
 The old gentleman shaded his eyes for 
 a few moments with his disengaged hand. 
 
 ' Frankly again, father,' said the young 
 man, ' is there a lady in view ?'
 
 CONCEENING MATRIMONY. 53 
 
 ' Well, no, my dear boy, not exactly ; 
 but I certainly was talking with Bray over 
 our port last week, when we perhaps did 
 agree that you and Laura seemed cut out 
 for one another ; but, my dear boy, don't 
 think I want to play the tyrant and choose 
 for you. They do say, though, that the 
 lady has a leaning your way ; and no won- 
 der, Charley, no Avonder !' 
 
 ^ I don't know very much about Laura,' 
 said Charley musingly. ' She's a fine girl 
 certainly ; looks rather Jewish, though, with 
 those big red lips of hers and that hooked 
 nose.' 
 
 'My dear Charley!' remonstrated Sir 
 PhUip. 
 
 'But she rides well — sits that great 
 rawboned mare of hers gloriously. I saw 
 her take a leap on the last day I was out 
 — one that I took too, about half an hour 
 before that fall ; but hang me if it wasn't
 
 54 BY BIETH A LADY. 
 
 to avoid being outdone by a woman! I 
 really wanted to shirk it.' 
 
 ' Good, good !' laughed Sir Philip. 
 
 ' But she's fast, and not feminine, to my 
 way of thinking,' said Charley, gazing up 
 as he spoke at the picture above the man- 
 telpiece, and comparing the lady in ques- 
 sion with the truly gentle mother whom he 
 had almost worshipped. ' She burst out 
 with a hoarse " Bravo !" when she saw me 
 safely landed, and then shouted, "Well 
 done, Charley !" and I felt so nettled, that 
 I pulled out my cigar-case, and asked her 
 to take one.' 
 
 ' But she did not ?' exclaimed Sir Philip. 
 
 'Well, no,' said Charley, 'she did not, 
 certainly — she only laughed; but she looked 
 just as if she were half disposer'. She's 
 one of your Spanish style of women : scents, 
 too, tremendously — bathes in Ihlang-Ih- 
 lang, I should think; perhaps because she
 
 CONCERNING MATEIMONY. 55 
 
 delights in garlic and onions, and wants to 
 smother the odour!' 
 
 'My dear boy — my dear boy!' laughed 
 Sir Philip, ' you do really want polish hor- 
 ribly! What a way to speak of a lady! 
 It's terrible, you know! But there, don't 
 judge harshly, and you are perfectly un- 
 fettered ; only just bear this in mind : it 
 would give me great pleasure if you were 
 to lead Laura Bray in here some day and 
 say — But there, you know — you know ! 
 Still I place no tie upon you, Charley : only 
 bring me some fair sweet girl — by birth a 
 lady, of whom I can be proud — and then all 
 I want is that you shall give me a chair at 
 your table and fireside. You might have 
 the title if it were possible, but you shall 
 have the Court and the income — every- 
 thing. Only let me have my glass of wine 
 and my bit of snuff, and play with your 
 children. Heaven bless you, my dear boy !
 
 56 BY BIRTH A LADY. 
 
 I'll go off the bench chrectly, and you 
 shall be a county magistrate ; but you 
 must be married, Charley — you must be 
 married!' 
 
 Charley Yining did not appear to be 
 wonderfully elated by his future prospects, 
 for, sighing, he said: 
 
 ' Really, father, I could have been very 
 happy to have gone on just as we are ; but 
 your wishes — ' 
 
 ' Yes, my dear boy, my wishes. And 
 you will try ? Only don't bother yourself; 
 take time, and mix a little more with so- 
 ciety — accept a few more invitations — go to 
 a few of the archery and croquet parties.' 
 
 ' Heigho, dad !' sighed Charley. ' Why, 
 I should be sending arrows for fun in the 
 stout old dowagers' backs, and breaking 
 the slow curates' shins mth my croquet 
 mallet! There, leave me to my o^^i de- 
 vices, and I'll see what I can do !'
 
 CONCERNING MATRIMONY. 57 
 
 ' To be sure — to be sure, Charley ! And 
 you do knoAY Maximilian Bray?' 
 
 'Horrid snob!' laughed Charley, 'such 
 a languid swell ! Do you know what our 
 set call him? But there, of course you 
 don't ! " Donkey Bray" or else " Loug- 
 ears!"'- 
 
 'There, there — never mind that! I 
 don't want you to marry him, Charley. 
 And there — there's Beauty at the door !' 
 exclaimed the old gentleman, shaking his 
 son's hand. ' Go and have your ride, Char- 
 ley 1 Good-bye ! But you'll think of what 
 I said?' 
 
 ' I will, honestly,' said the young man. 
 
 ' And — stay a moment, Charley : Lex- 
 ville flower-show is to-morrow. I can't go. 
 Couldn't you, just to oblige me? I like to 
 see these affairs patronised ; and Pruner 
 takes a good many of our things over. He 
 generally carries off a few prizes. I see
 
 58 BY BIETH A LADY. 
 
 they've quite stripped the conservatory. 
 You'll go for me, won't you?' 
 
 'Yes, father, if you wish it,' sighed 
 Charley. 
 
 ' I do wish it, my dear boy ; but don' t 
 sigh, pray!' 
 
 ' All right, dad,' said the young man, 
 brightening, and shaking Sir Philip's hand, 
 ' I'll go ; give away the prizes, too, if they 
 ask me,' he laughed. And the next mo- 
 ment the door closed upon his retreating 
 form. 
 
 Sir Philip Vining listened to his son's 
 departing step, and then muttering, ' They 
 will ask him too,' he rose, and went to the 
 window, from which he could just get a 
 glimpse of the young man mounting at the 
 hall-door. The next moment Charley can- 
 tered by upon a splendid roan mare, turn- 
 ing her on to the lawn-like sward, and dis- 
 appearing behind a clump of beeches.
 
 COXCEENING MATRIMONY. 59 
 
 ' He's a noble boy !' muttered the father 
 proudly; and then as he walked thought- 
 fully back to his chair, ' A fine dashing 
 fellow !' 
 
 But of course these were merely the 
 fond expressions of a weak parent.
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 Charley's encounters. 
 
 'Bai Jove, Yining! that you?' languidly 
 exclaimed a little, thin, carefully-dressed 
 man, ambling gently along on one of the 
 most thoroughly-broken of ladies' mares, 
 whose pace was so easy that not a curl of 
 her master's jetty locks was disarranged, or 
 a crease formed in his tightly-buttoned sur- 
 tout. His figure said ' stays' as plainly as 
 figure could speak ; he wore an eyeglass 
 screwed into the brim of his very glossy 
 hat; his eyes were half closed; his mous- 
 tache was waxed and curled up at the ends 
 like old-fashioned skates ; and his carefully- 
 trained whiskers lightly brushed their tips 
 asfainst his shoulders. And to set off
 
 Charley's encounters. 61 
 
 sucli arranorements to the o^reatest ad van- 
 tage, he clisplayecl a great deal of white 
 Avristband and shirt-front; his collar came 
 down into the sharpest of peaks ; and he 
 rode in lemon-kid gloves and patent-leather 
 boots. 
 
 ' Hallo, Max!' exclaimed Charley, look- 
 ing like some Colossus as he reined in by 
 the side of the dandy, who was going in 
 the same direction along a shady lane. 
 ' How are you? When did you come down?' 
 
 ' So, so — so, so, mai dear fellow ! Came 
 down ia-a-ast night. But pray hold in that 
 confounded great beast of yours : she's 
 making the very deuce of a dust ! I shall 
 l)e covered !' 
 
 Charley patted and soothed his fiery 
 curveting steed into a walk, which was 
 quite sufficient to keep it abreast of Maxi- 
 milian Bray's ambling jennet, which kept 
 up a dancing, circus - horse motion, one
 
 62 BY BIRTH A LADY. 
 
 evidently approved by its owner for its aid 
 in displaying his graceful horsemanship. 
 
 ' Nice day/ said Charley, scanning with 
 a side glance his companion's ' get-up,' and 
 evidently with a laughing contempt. 
 
 ' Ya-a-s, nice day,' drawled Bray, ' but 
 confoundedly dusty !' 
 
 ' Rain soon,' said Charley maliciously. 
 ' Lay it well.' 
 
 ' Bai Jove, no — surely not !' exclaimed 
 the other, displaying a great deal of tre- 
 pidation. ' You don't think so, do you ?' 
 
 'Black cloud coming up behind,' said 
 Charley coolly. 
 
 ' Bai Jove, mai dear fellow, let's push 
 on and get home ! You'll come and lunch, 
 won't you ?' 
 
 'No, not to-day,' said Charley. 'But 
 I'm going into the town to see the saddler, 
 ril ride with you.' 
 
 ' Tha-a-anks !' drawled Bray, with a grin
 
 Charley's encounters. 63 
 
 of misery. 'But, mai dear fellow, hadn't 
 you better go on the grass? You're cover- 
 ing me with dust !' 
 
 ' Confounded puppy ! Nice brother-in- 
 law! Wring his neck!' muttered Charley, 
 as he turned his mare on to the grass which 
 skirted the side of the road, as did Bray on 
 the other, when, the horses' paces being 
 muffled by the soft turf, conversation was 
 renewed. 
 
 ' Bai Jove, Yining, you'll come over to 
 the flower-show to-morrow, won't you? 
 There'll be some splendid girls there ! Good 
 show too, for the country. You send a lot 
 of things, don't you? — Covent-garden stufl" 
 and cabbages, eh?' 
 
 ' Humph !' growled Charley ' The go- 
 vernor's going to have some sent, I s'pose ; 
 our gardener's fond of that sort of thing. 
 Think perhaps I shall go.' 
 
 ' Ya-a-s, I should go if I were you. It
 
 64 BY BIRTH A LADY. 
 
 does you country fellows a deal of good, I 
 always think, to get into society.' 
 
 ' Does it ?' said Charley, raising his eye- 
 brows a little. 
 
 ' Bai Jove, ya-a-s ! You'd better go. 
 Laura's going, and the Lingon's girls are 
 coming to lunch. You'd better come over to 
 lunch and go with us,' drawled the exquisite. 
 
 'Well, I don't know,' said Charley, 
 hesitating; for he was thinking whether 
 it would not be better than going quite 
 alone — ' I don't knoAV what to say.' 
 
 ' Sa-a-ay ? Sa-a-ay ya-a-s,' drawled Bray. 
 ' Come in good time and have a weed first 
 in my room; and then we'll taste some 
 sherry the governor has got da-awn. He 
 always leaves it till I come da-awn from 
 ta-awn. Orders execrable stuff himself, as 
 I often tell him. Wouldn't have a drop fit 
 to drink if it weren't for me. You'd better 
 come.'
 
 G5 
 
 'Well, really,' said Charley again, half 
 mockingly, ' I don't know what to say.' 
 
 ' Why, sa-a-ay ya-a-as, and come.' 
 
 ' Well, then, " }'a-a-as" !' drawled Char- 
 ley, in imitation of the other's tone. 
 
 But Maximilian Bray's skin was too 
 thick for the little barb to penetrate; and 
 he rode gingerly on, petting his whiskers, 
 and altering the sit of his hat ; when, being 
 thoroughly occupied with his costume, horse 
 and man nearly came headlomi^tothe oTound, 
 in consequence of the mare stumbling over 
 a small heap of road- scrapings. But the 
 little animal saved herself, though only by 
 a violent effort, which completely unseated 
 Maximilian Bray, who was thrown forward 
 upon her neck, his hat being dislodged and 
 falling Avith a sharp bang into the dusty 
 road. 
 
 ' All right ! Xo bones broken ! You've 
 better luck than I have I' laughed Charley, 
 
 VOL. I. F
 
 QQ BY BIRTH A LADY. 
 
 as he fished up the fallen hat with his hunt- 
 ing-whip. ' Nip her well with your knees, 
 man, and then you won't be unseated again 
 in that fashion. Here, take your hat.' 
 
 ' Bai Jove !' ejaculated the breathless 
 dandy, ' it's too bad ! That fellow who 
 left the sweepings by the roadside ought 
 to be shot! Mai dear fellow, your gover- 
 nor, as a magistrate, ought to see to it! 
 Tha-a-anks!' 
 
 He took his hat, and began ruefully to 
 wipe off the dust with a scented handker- 
 chief before again covering his head ; but 
 though he endeavoured to preserve an out- 
 ward appearance of calm, there was wrath 
 in his breast as he gazed down at one 
 lemon-coloured tight glove split to ribbons, 
 and a button burst away from his surtout 
 coat. He could feel too that his moustache 
 was coming out of curl, and it only wanted 
 the sharp shower which now came patter-
 
 chaeley's ej^couj^tees. 67 
 
 ing down to destroy the last remains of his 
 equanimity. 
 
 'Bai Jove, how beastly unfortunate!' he 
 exclaimed, urging his steed into a smart 
 canter. 
 
 'AVell, I don't know,' said Charley coolly, 
 in his rough tweed suit that no amount of 
 rain would have injured. ' Better to-day 
 than to-morrow. Do no end of good, and 
 bring on the hay.' 
 
 'Ya-a-as, I suppose so,' drawled Bray; 
 'but do a confounded deal of harm!' and 
 he gazed at the sleeves of his glossy Saville- 
 row surtout. 
 
 ' 0, never mind your coat, man !' laughed 
 Charley. ' See how it lays the dust !' 
 
 ' Ya-a-as, just so,' drawled Bray. ' I 
 shall take this short cut and get home. 
 Only a shower! Bye-bye! See you to- 
 morrow ! Come to lunch.' 
 
 The ragged lemon glove was waved to
 
 68 BY BIRTH A LADY. 
 
 Charley as its owner turned down a side 
 lane; and now that his costume w^as com- 
 pletely disordered and wet, he made no 
 scruple about digging his spurs into his 
 mare's flanks, and galloping homewards; 
 while, heedless of the sharply-falling rain, 
 Charley gently cantered on towards the 
 town. 
 
 ' Damsels in distress !' exclaimed the 
 young man suddenly. ' " Bai Jove!" as 
 Longears says. Taken refuge from the 
 rain beneath a tree ! Leaves, young and 
 weak, completely saturated — impromptu 
 shower-bath! What shall I do? Lend 
 them my horse? No good. They would 
 not ride doul^le, like Knight Templars. 
 Hide off, then, for umbrellas, I suppose. 
 Why didn't that donkey stop a little longer? 
 and then he could have done it.' 
 
 So mused Charley Yining as he cantered 
 up to where, beneath a spreading elm by
 
 Charley's excounters. GO 
 
 the road-side, two ladies were waiting the 
 cessation of the rain — faring, though, very 
 little better than if they had stood in the 
 open. One was a fashionably-dressed, tall, 
 dark, bold beauty, black of eye and tress, 
 and evidently in anything but the best of 
 tempers with the weather ; the other a fair 
 pale girl, in half-mourning, whose yellow 
 hair was plainly braided across her white 
 forehead, but only to be knotted together 
 at the back in a massive cluster of plaits, 
 which told of what a glorious golden mantle 
 it could have shed over its owner, rippling 
 down far below the waist, and ready, it 
 seemed, to burst from prisoning comb and 
 pin. There was something ineffably sweet 
 m her countenance, albeit there was a sub- 
 dued, even sorrowful look as her shapely 
 little head was bent tow^ards her companion, 
 and she was evidently speaking as Charley 
 cantered up.
 
 70 BY BIRTH A LADY. 
 
 ' Sorry to see you out in this, Miss 
 Bray,' he cried, raising his low -crowned 
 hat. 'What can I do? — Fetch umbrellas 
 and shawls? Speak the word.' 
 
 ' 0, how kind of you, Mr. Yining !' ex- 
 claimed the dark maiden, with brightening 
 eyes and flushing cheeks. ' But really I 
 should not like to trouble you.' 
 
 'Trouble? Nonsense!' cried Charley. 
 ' Only speak before you get wet through.' 
 
 ' Well, if you really — really, you know 
 — would not mind,' hesitated Laura Bray^ 
 who, in spite of the rain, was in no hurry 
 to bring the interview to a close. 
 
 'Wouldn't mind? Of course not!' 
 echoed Charley, whose bold eyes were 
 fixed upon Laura Bray's companion, who 
 timidly returned his salute, and then 
 shrank back, as he again raised his little 
 deer-stalker hat from its curly throne. 
 'Now, then,' he exclaimed, 'what's it to
 
 Charley's encounters. 71 
 
 be? — shawls and Sairey Gamps of gingham 
 and tape ?' 
 
 ' Xo, no, Mr. Alining ! How droll you 
 are !' laughed the j^eauty. ' But if you 
 really wouldn't mind — really, you know — ' 
 
 ' I, tell, you, Miss, Bray, that, I, shall, 
 only, be, too, happy,' said Charley, in mea- 
 sured tones. 
 
 ' Then, if you wouldn't mind riding to 
 the Elms, and asking, them to send the 
 brougham, I should be so much obliged !' 
 
 ' All riirht I' cried Charley, turning his 
 mare. ' Max has only just left me.' 
 
 ' But it seems such a shame to send you 
 away through all this rain !' said Laura 
 loudly. 
 
 'Fudge!' laughed Charle}*, as, putting 
 his mare at the hedge in front, she skimmed 
 over it like a bird, and her owner galloped 
 across country, to the great disadvantage 
 of several crops of clover.
 
 72 EY BIRTJI A LADY. 
 
 ' What a pity !' sighed Laura to herself, 
 as she watched the retreating form. ' And 
 the rain will be over directly. I wonder 
 whether he'll come back!' 
 
 ' Do you think we need wait ?' said her 
 companion gently. ' The rain has ceased now, 
 and the sun is breakins; throuoh the clouds.' 
 
 ' 0, of course, Miss Bedford !' said 
 Laura pettishly. ' It would be so absurd 
 if the carriage came and found us gone;' 
 when, seeing that the dark beauty evi- 
 dently wished to be alone with her 
 thoughts, the other remained silent. 
 
 'Who in the world can that be witli 
 her?' mused Charley, as he rode along. 
 'Might have had the decency to intro- 
 duce me, anyhow. Don't know when 
 I've seen a softer or more gentle face. 
 Splendid hair too ! No sham there : no 
 fear of her moulting a curl here and a tress 
 there, if her back hair came undone. No,
 
 Charley's excotjnters. 73 
 
 she don't seem as if there TV'ere any sham 
 about her — qaiet, ladylike, and nice. Ton 
 my word, I believe Laura Bray would make 
 a better man than Max. Seem to like 
 those silver-gray dresses with a black- velvet 
 jacket, they look so — There, what a muff 1 
 am, going right out of the way, while that 
 little darling is getting wet as a sponge ! 
 Easy, lass ! Now, then — over I' he cried to 
 his mare, as she skimmed another hedge. 
 ' Wonder what her name is ! Some visitor 
 come to the flower-show, I suppose — fiancee 
 of Longears probably. Steady, then, 
 Beauty !' he cried again to the mare, who, 
 warmino' to her work, Avas beo^innino; to 
 tear furiously over the ground ; for, pre- 
 occupied by thought, Charley had inadver- 
 tently been using his spurs pretty freely. 
 
 But he soon reduced his steed to a state 
 of obedience, and rode on, musing upon his 
 late encotmter.
 
 74 BY BIETII A LADY. 
 
 'Can't be !' he thought. 'A giii with 
 a head like that would never take up with 
 such a donkey ! Ah, there he goes, drenched 
 like a rat ! Ha, ha, ha ! How miserably dis- 
 gusted the puppy did look ! Patronising 
 me, too — a gnat ! Advising me to go into 
 society, et csetera! Well, I can't help it : 
 I do think him a conceited ass ! But per- 
 haps, after all, he thinks the same of me ;. 
 and I deserve it. 
 
 'Dear old dad,' he mused again after 
 awhile. ' Like to see me married and set- 
 tled, would he ? What should I be married 
 for ? — a regular woman-hater ! Why, in 
 the name of all that's civil, didn't Laura in- 
 troduce me to that little blonde ? Like to 
 know who she is — not that it matters to 
 me ! Over again, my lass !' he cried, pat- 
 ting the mare as she once more bounded 
 over a hedge, this time to drop into a lane 
 straight as a line, and a quarter of a mile
 
 CHAELEY S E^X•OUXTERS. / t> 
 
 down which Maxhnilian Bray could be seen 
 hurrying along — Charley's short cut across 
 the fields having enabled him to gain upon 
 the fleeing dandy. 
 
 'May as well catch up to him, and tell 
 him what I've seen,' said Charlev. uro^ino' 
 on his mare. ' Xo, I won't,' he said, check- 
 ing. 'Better too, perhaps. Xo, I won't. 
 Why should I send the donkey back to 
 them ? Xot much fear, though : he'll be 
 too busy for a couple of hours restoring 
 his damaged plumes — a conceited popin- 
 
 He cantered gently on now, seeming to 
 take the shower with him, for he could see,, 
 on turning, that it was getting fine and 
 bright. But the rain had quite ceased as 
 he rode up to the door of the Brays' seat — 
 a fine old red-brick mansion known as the 
 Elms — just as a groom was leading the 
 ambling palfrey to its stable at the King's
 
 76 BY BIRTH A LADY. 
 
 Arms — there not being accommodation 
 in the paternal stables — a steed not mncli 
 more than half the size of the great rawboned 
 hunter favoured by Max's masculine sister. 
 
 ' Why, here's Mr. Charley Yining !' cried 
 a shrill loud voice, from an open window. 
 ' How de do, Mr. Yining — how cle do ? 
 Come to lunch, haven't you ? So glad ! 
 And so sorry Laura isn't at home ! Caught 
 in the shower, I'm afraid.' 
 
 The owner of the voice appeared at the 
 window, in the shape of a very big bony 
 lady in black satin — bony not so much in 
 figure as in face, whicli seemed fitted with 
 too much skull, displaying a great deal of 
 cheek prominence, and a macaw -beaked 
 nose, with the skin stretched over it very 
 tightly, forming on the whole an organ of 
 a most resonant character — one that it was 
 necessary to hear before it could be tho- 
 roughly believed in. In fact, with all due
 
 Charley's excouxters. 7T 
 
 reverence to a lady's nose, it must be stated 
 that the one in question acted as a sort of 
 war-trump, which Mrs. Bray blew with 
 masculine force when about to engage in 
 battle with husband or servant for some 
 case of disputed supremacy. 
 
 ' Ring the bell, girls,' shrieked the lady;. 
 ' and let some one take Mr. Yinino-'s horse.. 
 Do come in, Mr. Vining !' 
 
 'How do, Yining — hoAV do?' cried a 
 little pudgy man, appearing at the mndow, 
 l3ut hardly visible beside his lady — Mrs. 
 Bray in more ways than one eclipsing her 
 lord. ' How do? How's Sir Philip?' 
 
 ' Quite well, thanks ; but not coming 
 in,' cried Charley, from his horse's back. 
 ' Miss Bray and some lady caught in the 
 rain — under tree — bad shelter — want the 
 brougham.' 
 
 ' Dear me, how tiresome !' screamed 
 ^Irs. Bray. ' But must we send it, Xess?'
 
 78 BY BIRTH A LADY. 
 
 Mr. Bray, named at his baptism Onesi- 
 mus, replied by stroking his cheek and 
 looking thoughtfully at his lady. 
 
 ' The rain's about over now, and they 
 might surely walk,' shrieked Mrs. Bray. 
 •' Dudgeon grumbles so, too, when he has 
 to o'o out like this, and he was ordered for 
 two o'clock.' 
 
 ' Better send, my dear,' whispered Mr. 
 Bray, with a meaning look. ' Yining won't 
 like it if you don't.' 
 
 Mrs. Bray evidently approved of her 
 husband's counsel; for orders were given 
 that the brougham should be in immediate 
 readiness. 
 
 ' They won't be long,' she now screamed, 
 nil smiles once more. ' But do come in and 
 have some lunch, Mr. Vining : don't sit 
 there in vour wet clothes.' 
 
 ' No — no. I'm all right,' cried Charley. 
 ^ I'm off again directly.'
 
 CHARLEY'S EXCOUNTERS. 79 
 
 But for all that, he lino-erecl. 
 
 ' You'll be at the flower-show to-mor- 
 row, won't you T said Mrs. Bray. 
 
 'Well, yes, I think I shall go,' said 
 -Charley. ' I suppose everybody will be 
 there.' 
 
 ' 0, of course; Laura's going. I suppose 
 3'ou send some things from the Court ?' 
 
 'Yes,' said Charley ; but he added, 
 laughing, ' What will be the use, when you 
 are going to send such a prize blossom?' 
 
 ' For shame, you naughty man !' said 
 Mrs. Bray. 'I shall certainly tell Laura 
 you've turned flatterer.' 
 
 ' I say, Charley Yining,' squeaked aloud 
 voice from the next window, ' we're o-oina' 
 to beat you Court folks.' 
 
 'We are, are we ?' laughed Charley, 
 turning in the direction of the voice, w^hich 
 proceeded from a very tall angular young- 
 lady of sixteen — a tender young plant,
 
 80 BY EIRTH A LADY. 
 
 nearly all stem, and displaying very little 
 blossom or leaf. She was supported on 
 either side by two other tender plants, of 
 fourteen and twelve respectively, forming a 
 trio known at the Elms as ' the children.' 
 
 ' I'm very Sflad to hear it. Miss Nell ; but 
 
 &' 
 
 suppose we wait till after the judge's de- 
 cision. But there goes the carriage. Good- 
 bye, all !' 
 
 And turning his horse's head, he soon 
 overtook the brougham, when, after sooth- 
 ing Mr. Dudgeon, the driver, with a shil- 
 ling, the progress was pretty SAvift until 
 they reached the tree, where, now finding 
 shelter from the sun instead of the rain, 
 yet stood Laura Bray and her companion. 
 
 ' 0, how good of you, Mr. Yining ! and 
 to come back, too !' gushed Laura, with 
 sparkling eyes. ' I shall never be out of 
 debt, I'm sure. I don't know what I should 
 have done if it had not been for you !'
 
 81 
 
 ' Walked home, and a blessed good job, 
 too !' muttered Mr. John Dudgeon. 
 
 'Don't name it!' said Charley. 'Al- 
 most a pity it's left off raining.' 
 
 Tor shame — no! How can you talk 
 so!' exclaimed Laura, shaking her sun- 
 shade at the speaker. ' But I really am 
 so much obliged — I am indeed !' 
 
 Charley dismounted and opened the 
 carriage-door, handing in first Miss Bray, 
 who stepped forward, leaned heavily upon 
 his arm, and then took her place, arranging 
 her skirts so as to fill the back seat, talking 
 gushingly the while as she made play at 
 Charley with her great dark eyes. 
 
 But the glances were thrown away, 
 Charley's attention being turned to her 
 companion, who bent slightly, just touched 
 the proffered hand, and stepped into the 
 brougham, taking her seat with her back 
 to the horse. 
 
 VOL. I. G
 
 S2 EY EIRTH A LADY. 
 
 ' So much obliged — so grateful !' cried 
 Laura, as Charley closed the door. 'I 
 shall never be able to repay you, I'm sure. 
 Thanks ! So much ! Good-bye ! See you 
 at the flower-show to-morrow, of course ? 
 Good-bye! — good-hjeV 
 
 ' She's getting a 2:)recious deal too affec- 
 tionate ! Talk about wanting me to marry 
 /i^r, why she'll run away with me directly!* 
 grumbled Charley, as Mr. Dudgeon impa- 
 tiently drove off, leaving the young man 
 with the impression of a swiftly passing 
 vision of T^aura Bray showing her white 
 teeth in a great smile as she waved her 
 hand, and of a fair gentle face bent slightly 
 down, so that he could see once more the 
 rich massive braids resting upon a shapely, 
 creamy neck. ' Have they been saying 
 anything to her ?' said Charley, as the 
 brougham disappeared. 'She's getting quite 
 unpleasant. Grows just like the old wo-
 
 Charley's excouxtees. 83 
 
 man : regularly parrot -beaked. Why didn't 
 she introduce me ? Took the best seat, too ! 
 Looks strano'e ! I sav, thouo^h, " bai Jove !" 
 — as that sweet brother savs — this sort of 
 thing won't do I I should like to please 
 the dad : but I don't think I could manage 
 to do it "that hoAV," as they say about here. 
 She quite frightens me! Heigho! what a 
 bother life is when you can't spend it just 
 as you like ! Wish I was out in Australia 
 or Africa, or somewhere to be free and 
 easy — to hunt and shoot and ride as one 
 liked. Let's see : I shall not go over to 
 the to^vll now — it's nearly lunch-time, and 
 Pm wet.' 
 
 He had mounted his horse, and was 
 about to turn homeward, when something 
 shining in the grass caught his eye, and 
 leaping down, he snatched up from among 
 the frlisteninof strands, heavv with rain- 
 drops, a little golden cross — one that had
 
 84 EY BIRTH A LADY. 
 
 evidently slipped from velvet or ribbon as 
 the ladies stood beneath that tree. 
 
 'That's not Miss Laura's — can't be!^ 
 muttered Charley, as he gazed intently at 
 the little ornament. ' Not half hue enough 
 for her.' 
 
 Then turning it over, he found engraved 
 upon the reverse : 
 
 'E. B. From Iter Mother, 18G0.' 
 
 ' E. B.— E. B.— E. B. ! And pray who 
 is E. B. ?' muttered Charley, as, once more 
 mounting, he turned his horse's head home- 
 ward. ' Eleanor B. or Eliza — no, that's a 
 housemaid's name — Ernestine, Eva. Who 
 can she be? Not introduced — given the 
 back seat — hardly spoken to, and yet so 
 ladylike, and — There, get on. Beauty! 
 What am I thinking about? We sha'n't be 
 back to lunch.' 
 
 He cantered on for a mile ; and then as
 
 Charley's encountehs. 85 
 
 they entered a sunny lane — a very arcade 
 of gem-besprinkled verdure — he drew rein, 
 and taking the little cross from his pocket, 
 once more read the inscription. 
 
 '"E. B. From her mother, 1860." 
 And pray who is her mother? and who is 
 E. B.? Xobody from about here, I'll be 
 bound. But Avdiat a contrast to that great, 
 tall, dark woman ! And they call her beau- 
 tiful I Xot half so beautiful as you, my 
 lass !' he cried, rousing himself, and patting 
 his mare's arched neck. ' You are my 
 beauty, eh, lass? Get on, then!' 
 
 But as Charley Vining rode on he grew 
 thoughtful, and more than once he absently 
 muttered : 
 
 'Yes; I think I'll go to the flower-show 
 to-morrow!'
 
 CHAPTER Aa. 
 
 A SECOND MEETING. 
 
 Maximilian Bray, Esq., clerk in her Ma- 
 jesty's Treasury, Whitehall, sat in his dress- 
 ing-room soured and angry. He had been 
 hard at work trying to restore the mischief 
 done by the rain ; but in spite of ' Bando- 
 line' and ' Brill iantine,' he could not get 
 hair, moustache, or whiskers to take their 
 customary curl : they would look limp and 
 dejected. Then that superfine coat was 
 completely saturated with water, as was 
 also his hat, neither of which would, he 
 knew, ever again display the pristine gloss. 
 And, besides, he had been unseated before 
 ' that coarse boor, Charley Vining,' and the 
 fellow had had the impertinence to grin.
 
 A SECOXD MEETING. 87 
 
 But, there, what could you expect from such 
 a country clown? Altogether, Maximihan 
 Bray, Esq., was cross — not to say savage — 
 and more than once he had cauo'ht hhnself 
 
 o 
 
 biting his nails — another cause for annoy- 
 xmce, since he was very careful with those 
 almond-shaped nails, and had to pare, file, 
 and burnish them afterwards to remove the 
 inequality. 
 
 The above causes for a disordered tem- 
 per have been recorded ; but they were far 
 from all. It is said that it never rains but 
 it pours, and as that was the case out of 
 doors, so it was in. But it would be 
 wearisome to record the breaking of boot- 
 loops, the tearing out of shirt-buttons, and 
 the crowmng horror of a spot of ironmould 
 right m the front of the principal plait. 
 Suffice it that Maximilian Bray felt as if 
 he could have quarrelled with the w^hole 
 world; and as he sat chilled with his wet-
 
 88 BY BIRTH A LADY. 
 
 ting, he had hard work to keep from gnaw- 
 ing his finger-nails again and again. 
 
 He might have gone down into the 
 drawing-room, warm with the sun, while 
 his northern-aspected window lent no genial 
 softness; but no: there was something on 
 his mind ; and though he was dressed, he 
 lingered still. 
 
 He knew that the luncheon bell would 
 ring directly; in fact, he had referred seve- 
 ral times to his watch. But still he hung 
 back, as if shrinking from some unpleasant 
 task, till, nerving himself, he rose and went 
 to the looking-glass, examining himself 
 from top to toe, grinning to see if his teeth 
 were perfectly white, dipping a corner of 
 the towel in water to remove the faintest 
 suspicion of a little cherry tooth-paste from 
 the corner of his mouth, biting his lips to 
 make them red, trying once more to give 
 his lank moustache the customary curl, but
 
 A SECOND MEETING. 80 
 
 trying in vain — in short, going through the 
 varied acts of a man who gives the whole 
 of his mind to his dress ; and then, evi- 
 dently thoroughly dissatisfied, he strode 
 across the room, flung open the door, and 
 began to descend the stairs. 
 
 The builder of the Elms, not being 
 confined for space, had made on the first 
 floor a long passage, upon which several of 
 the bedrooms opened; and this passage, 
 being made the receptacle for the cheap 
 pictures purchased at sales by Mr. Onesi- 
 mus Bray, was known in the house as the 
 ' long gallery.' 
 
 Descendino' a short flio-ht of stairs,. 
 
 c_ 7 
 
 Maximilian Bray was traversing this gal- 
 lery, when the encounter which in his 
 heart of hearts he had been dreadino- ever 
 since he came down the night before was 
 forced upon him ; for, turning into the pass- 
 age from the other end, the companion of
 
 DO BY BIETH A LADY. 
 
 Laura Bray's morning walk came hurriedly 
 along, slackening her pace, though, as she 
 perceived that there was a stranger in ad- 
 vance; but as their eyes met, a sudden 
 start of surprise robbed the poor girl for a 
 few moments of her self-control ; the blood 
 flushed to her temples, and for an instant 
 she stopped short. 
 
 But Maximilian Bray was equal to the 
 occasion. He had fought off the encounter 
 as lono' as he could ; but now that the time 
 had come, he had determined upon brazen- 
 ing it out. 
 
 ' Ha, ha !' he laughed playfully. ' Know 
 me again, then? Quite frightened you, 
 didn't I? Shouldn't have been so cross 
 last time, when I only wanted to see you 
 safe on your journey. Didn't know who I 
 was, eh? But, bai Jove! glad to see you 
 again — am indeed!' 
 
 There was no reply for an instant to
 
 A SECOXD 3IEETIXG. 91 
 
 these greetings. But as the flush faded, to 
 leave the lace of her to whom they were 
 addressed pale and stem, Maximilian Bray's 
 smile grew more and more forced. The 
 words were too shallow of meaning not to 
 be rightly interpreted ; and overcoming the 
 surprise that had for a few moments fet- 
 tered her. the fair girl ttirned upon Bray a 
 keen piercmg look, as moving forward she 
 slightly bent, and said coldly in her old 
 words : 
 
 ' I think, sir, you have made some mis- 
 take.' 
 
 ' Mistake ? Xo ! Stop a minute. No 
 mistake, bai Jove — no ! You remember me, 
 of course, when I startled you at the sta- 
 tion. Only my fun, you know, only that 
 young donkey must interfere. Glad to see 
 you again — am, indeed, bai Jove ! We 
 shall be capital friends, I know.' 
 
 As he spoke, he stepped before his com-
 
 92 BY BIRTH A LADY. 
 
 panion, arresting her progress, and holding 
 out his hand. 
 
 Driven thus to bay, the young girl 
 once more turned and faced her pursuer 
 with a look so firm and piercing, that 
 he grew discomposed, and the words 
 he uttered were unconnected and stam- 
 mering. 
 
 ' Sorry, you know, bai Jove ! Mistook 
 my meaning. Glad to see you again — am^ 
 bai Jove ! Eh ? What say ?' 
 
 'I was not aware that Mr. Maximi- 
 lian Bray and the gentleman' — she laid 
 a hardly percej)tible emphasis on the word 
 • gentleman' — ' whom I encountered at that 
 country station were the same. Allow 
 me to remind you, sir, that you made 
 a mistake then in addressing a stranger. 
 You make another error in addressing, 
 me again ; for bear in mind we are stran- 
 gers yet. Excuse me for saying so, but
 
 A SECOI^D 3IEETING. 93 
 
 I think it would l)e l^etter to forget the 
 past.' 
 
 'Ya-as, just so — bai Jove! yes. It was 
 nothing, you know, only — ' 
 
 Maximilian Bray stopped short, for the 
 simple reason that he was alone ; for, turn- 
 ing hastily, his companion had retraced her 
 steps, leaving the exquisite son of the house 
 — the pride of his mother, the confidant of 
 his sister, and the pest of the servants — 
 looking quite 'like a fool, you know, bai 
 Jove !' 
 
 They were his own words, though meant 
 for no other ears but his own, being a little 
 too truthful. Then he stood thinking and 
 o^nawino; one nail for a few moments before 
 continuing his way doA\m to the dining- 
 room. 
 
 ' So we are to be as if we met for the 
 first time, are we ?' he muttered ; and then 
 his countenance lighted up into an inane
 
 94 BY BIETH A LADY. 
 
 smile as he thought to hmiself, ' Well, I've 
 got it over. And, after all, it's something 
 like being taken into her confidence, for 
 haven't we between us what looks uncom- 
 monly like a secret?'
 
 CHAPTER YII. 
 
 A DAAVMNG SENSE. 
 
 They were rather famous for their flower- 
 shows at Lexville, not merely for the capi- 
 tal displays of Nature's choicest beauties, 
 educated by cmining floriculturists to the 
 nearest point to perfection, but also for 
 their wet days. When the exhibition was 
 first instituted, people said that the mar- 
 quee was soaked and the ladies' dresses 
 spoiled, simply because the show was held 
 upon a Friday. ' Just,' they said, ' as if 
 anybody but a committee would haye chosen 
 a Friday for an outdoor fete !' 
 
 But, if anything, the day was a little 
 worse upon the next occasion, when Thurs- 
 day had been selected, the same fate attend-
 
 i)6 BY BIRTH A LADY. 
 
 ing tlie luckless managers upon a Monday, 
 a Tuesday, and a Wednesday. But now at 
 last it seemed as if the ftdr goddess Flora 
 herself had enlisted the S3'm23athies of that 
 individual known to mortals as 'the clerk 
 of the weather,' and, in consequence, the 
 day was all that could be desired. In fact, 
 the weather was so fine, that the bandsmen 
 of the Grenadier Guards, instead of coming 
 down in their old and tarnished uniforms — 
 •declared, as a rule, to be good enough for 
 Lexville — mustered in full force, gorgeous 
 in their brightest scarlet and gold. The 
 .committee-men had shaken hands in the 
 secretary's tent a dozen times over as many 
 glasses of sherry, and forgotten to eat their 
 biscuits in their hurry to order the cords 
 of Edgington's great tent to be tightened, 
 so potent were the rays of the sun ; while 
 within the canvas palace, in a golden hazy 
 shade, the floral beauties from many a hot-
 
 A DAWNING SENSE. 97 
 
 house and conservatory were receiving the 
 last touches by way of arrangement. 
 
 Lexville was in a profound state of ex- 
 citement that day, and Miss I'Aiguille, the 
 dressmaker, declared that she had been 
 nearly torn to pieces by her customers. 
 
 ' As for Miss Bray,' she said, ' not an- 
 other dress would she make for her — no, 
 not if she became bankrupt to-morrow — 
 that she wouldn't ! Six tryings-on, indeed, 
 and then not satisfied!' 
 
 However, Miss P Aiguille's troubles were 
 so far over that, like the rest of Lexville, 
 she had partaken of an early dinner, or 
 lunch, and prepared herself to visit the 
 great fete. 
 
 Lexville flower-show was always held 
 in the grounds of one of the count}' magis- 
 trates, the Rev. Henry Lingon, concerning 
 whose kindness the reporter for the little 
 newspaper generally went into raptures in 
 
 YOL. I. H
 
 98 BY LirvTH A LADY. 
 
 print, and received orders for half-a-dozen 
 extra copies the next bench-day. And now 
 fast and furiously the carriages began to 
 set down — the Avealth and fashion of the 
 neighbourhood making a point of being the 
 earlier arrivals, so as to miss the crowd of 
 commoner beings who would afterwards 
 flock together. 
 
 ' Ah,Yining ! You're here, then, mai dear 
 fellow ! Why didn't you come to lunch T 
 exclaimed Maximilian Bray, sauntering up 
 to the young man, who, rather flushed and 
 energetic, was talking to a knot of flower- 
 button-holed committee-men. 
 
 'How do. Max?' exclaimed Charley, 
 hastily taking the extended hand, and giv- 
 insr it a cood shake. Then, turnins; to the 
 committee-men : ' Much rather not — would, 
 really, you know— don't feel myself adapted. 
 Well, there,' he exclaimed at last, in answer 
 to several eager protestations, ' I'll do it, if
 
 A DAWXIXG SENSE. 99 
 
 3^011 can get no one else! — Want me to 
 give away the prizes,' lie said, turning to 
 Max Bray, who was gazing ruefully at his 
 right glove, in whose back a slight crack 
 was visible, caused, no doubt, by the hearty 
 but rough grasp it had just received. 
 
 ' To be sure — of course I' drawled Bray. 
 ' You're the very man, bai Jove ! But 
 won't you come tots'ards the gate ? I ex- 
 pect our people here directly.' 
 
 Xothing loth, Yining strolled with his 
 companion down one of the pleasant floral 
 avenues, but seeing no flowers, hearing no 
 band; for his gaze, he hardly knew why, 
 was directed towards the approach; and 
 though Maximilian Bray kept up a drawl- 
 ing series of remarks, they fell upon inat- 
 tentive ears. 
 
 'Do you expect them soon?' said Char- 
 ley at last, somewhat impatiently, for he was 
 growing tired of his companion's chatter.
 
 100 BY BIIITH A LADY. 
 
 ' Ya-as, directly,' said Bray, smiling, 
 ' But, mai dear fellow, wliy didn't you come 
 over and then escort them?' 
 
 Charley did not answer; for just then 
 he causrht sio-ht of Laura, radiant of face 
 and dress, sweeping along beside Mrs. Bray, 
 who seemed to cut a way through the 
 crowd at the farther part of the great mar- 
 quee. 
 
 'Here they are,' said Bray, drawing- 
 Charley along ; ' so now you can be out of 
 your misery.' 
 
 '• What do you mean ?' said Charley 
 sharply. 
 
 ' Bai Jove ! how you take a fellow up ! 
 Nothing at all — nothing at all !' 
 
 Charley frowned slightly, and then suf- 
 fered himself to be led up to the Elms 
 party, ]\Irs. Bray smiling upon him SAveetly, 
 and Laura favouring him with a look that 
 was meant to brino; him to her side.
 
 A DAWNIXG SENSE. 101 
 
 I>Lit Laura's look had not the desired 
 effect; for Charley stayed talkmg to Mrs. 
 Bray, after just passing the customary 
 compliments to the younger lady. 
 
 A frown — ]io slight one — appeared on 
 Laura's brow; but in a few seconds it was 
 gone, and, walking back a few paces, she 
 sta}'ed by her younger sisters, with whom 
 Charley could see the young lady of the 
 previous day's encounter. 
 
 And now he avouIcI have followed Laura 
 in the hope of obtaining an introduction, 
 but he was arrested by a stout committee- 
 man. 
 
 ' Would he kindly step that Avay for a 
 moment ?' 
 
 With an exclamation of impatience, the 
 young man followed, to find that his opi- 
 nion was wanted as to the suitability of 
 the site chosen for the distribution of the 
 prizes.
 
 102 BY EIRTH A LADY. 
 
 ' But surely you can obtain some one 
 else?' exclaimed Charley. 
 
 ^ Impossible, my clear sir,' was the reply. 
 
 So, after two or three unavailing at- 
 tempts to obtain a substitute, Charley gave 
 in ; for the owner of the grounds, upon be- 
 ing asked, declared that a better choice 
 could not have been made; the principal 
 doctor shook his head; while Mr. Onesimus 
 Bray literally turned and fled upon hearing- 
 Charley's request. So, with a feeling of 
 something like despair, the elected prize- 
 giver began to cudgel his brains for the 
 verbiage of a speech, telhng himself that 
 he should certainly break down and expose 
 himself to the laughter of the assemblage; 
 for the grandees from miles round had 
 made their way to Lexville to patronise 
 the flower-show; and at last, quite in de- 
 spair, Charley walked hurriedly down one 
 of the alleys of the garden, passing closely
 
 A DAWXIXG SEXSE. 103 
 
 by the Bray party, and making Laura co- 
 lour with annoyance at what she called his 
 neglect. 
 
 But Charley Yining's perturbed spirit 
 was not soothed by the anticipated solitude 
 of the shady alley ; for, before he had gone 
 twenty yards, he saw Max Bray side by 
 side with the lady who had occupied a 
 goodly share of his thoughts since the en- 
 counter of the previous day. 
 
 Their backs were towards him, but it 
 was quite evident that Mr. Maximilian 
 Bray was exerting himself to be as agree- 
 able as possible to his companion, though 
 with what success it w^as impossible to say. 
 At all events, Charley ^^inmg turned sharply 
 round upon his heel, with a strange feeling 
 of annoyance entirely new pervading his 
 spirit. 
 
 ' How absurd !' he muttered to himself. 
 ^ What an ass I was to come to a set-out of
 
 104 BY BIRTH A LADY. 
 
 this kind I No fellow could be more out 
 of place!' 
 
 Turning out of the alley, he made his 
 Avay, with rapid, business-like steps, on to 
 the lawn, where the rapidly - increasing 
 company were now gathering in knots, and 
 listening to one of Godfrey's finest selec- 
 tions. To an unbiased observer, the 
 thought might have suggested itself that 
 there was as bright a flower-show, and as 
 beautiful a mingling of hues, out there 
 upon the closely-shaven turf, as within the 
 tent; but Charley Yining was just then no 
 impartial spectator ; and, though more than 
 one pair of eyes grew brighter as he ap- 
 proached, he saw nothing but two figures 
 slowly issuing from the other end of the 
 alley, where the guelder roses were shower- 
 ins: down their vernal snows. 
 
 ' I should uncommonly like to wring 
 that Max Bray's neck!' said Charley to
 
 A DAWXIXG SEXSE. 10-> 
 
 himself, as he threw his stalwart form into- 
 a wicker garden-chair, which creaked and 
 expostulated dismally beneath the weight it 
 was called upon to hear; and then, indulg- 
 ing in rather a favourite habit, he lolled 
 there, muttering and talking to hmiself — 
 cross-examining and answering questions 
 respecting his uneasiness. 
 
 But the more he thou<2:ht, the more un- 
 easy he ^tcw, and twice over he shifted 
 liis seat to avoid an attack from some con- 
 versational friend whom he saw approach- 
 ing. 
 
 ' There, this sort of thing won't do !' he 
 exclaimed at last. ' I'm afraid I'm going 
 on the pointed-out road rather too fast. 
 Suppose I take a dose of the Bray family 
 by way of antidote.' 
 
 So, leaving his seat, he strode towards 
 where he could see Laura's white parasol; 
 l;)ut his intent was l3affled by a couple of
 
 106 BY BIRTH A LADY. 
 
 committee-men, who literally took him into 
 •custody — their pm^pose being to give him 
 (livers and sundry explanations respecting 
 the distribution of the prizes.
 
 CHAPTER YIII. 
 
 SHOOTIXG AX ARROW. 
 
 To have seen the company assembled in 
 the Eeverencl Henry Lingon's grounds upon 
 that brio^ht afternoon, it mio-ht have been 
 imagined that for the time being no mar- 
 ring shadow could possibly cross any breast ; 
 for, gaze where you would, the eye rested 
 upon bright pleased faces wreathed in 
 smiles, groups, whose aspect was of the 
 happiest, setting off everywhere the Wat- 
 teau-like landscape. But for all that, there 
 were faces there wearing but a mask, and 
 to more than one present that fete Avas 
 fraught with enmd and disappointment. 
 Toilettes arrano-ed with the greatest care 
 had, in other than the instance hinted at,
 
 108 13Y BIRTir A LADY. 
 
 been without effect ; while again, where, in 
 all simplicity, effect had not been sought, 
 attentions had been paid distasteful even to 
 annoyance. The Lexville flower-show had 
 assembled to2:ether enouo-h to form a little 
 world of hopes and fears ; and, fete-day 
 thouo-h it had been, there were achins: 
 hearts that night, and tearful eyes moisten- 
 ing more than one pillow — the pillows of 
 those who were young and hopeful still, in 
 spite of their pain, though they Avere be- 
 ginning to learn how much bitterness there 
 is amidst the dregs of every cup — dregs to 
 be drained bv all in turn, earlier or later, 
 in their little span. 
 
 But now the band was silenced for 
 a while, and the company began to cluster 
 around a temporary platform erected for 
 the occasion, where the hero of the day 
 was to distribute to the expectant gardeners 
 the rewards of their care and patience.
 
 SHOOTING .\:n' arroav. 109 
 
 Xot that there is much to be called 
 heroic in giving a few premiums for the 
 best roses, or pansies, or stove-plants; but 
 if the distributor be young, handsome, dis- 
 encfao'ed, heir to a baronctcv, and rich, in 
 many eyes he becomes a hero indeed — a 
 hero of romance: and bitter as were the 
 feelings of Charley Yining, who declared to 
 himself that his speech was blundering, 
 that he had looked ijauclie and red-faced, 
 and that any schoolboy could have done 
 better, there were plenty of hearty plaudits 
 for him, and more than one bright youug 
 face became suffused ^^'ith the rapid beating 
 of its owner's heart, as for a moment she 
 thought that a glance was directed expressly 
 at her. 
 
 Poor deluded little thing, though! It 
 was all a mistake ; for Charley Alining went 
 through his business like an automaton, see- 
 ing nothing but a simple, half-mourning mus-
 
 110 BY BIRTH A LADY. 
 
 lin dress, and a pale sweet face in a lavender 
 bonnet, which had appeared to him to have 
 been haunted the whole day long by what 
 he had once indignantly called ' a tailor's 
 dummy' — to wit, the exquisite and elabor- 
 ately-attired form of Maximilian Bray. 
 
 But at length the distribution was at 
 an end, and gardener, amateur, and cottager 
 had been dismissed. Hot, weary, and glad 
 to get away, Charley had hurried from the 
 group of friends and accjuaintances by whom 
 he had been surrounded, when at a short 
 distance off he espied Laura Bray, and his 
 heart smote him for his neglect of the 
 daughter of a family Avith whom he had 
 always been very intimate. 
 
 ' Too bad, 'pon my word I' said Charley 
 hypocritically, for at the same moment 
 other thoughts had flashed across his mind. 
 However, he drew down that mental blind 
 which people find so convenient wherewith
 
 SHOOTmG AX AREOW. Ill 
 
 to shadow the wmclow of then' hearts, and 
 strode across the lawn towards Lanra, who 
 was apparently listenmg to the conversa- 
 tion of a gentleman of a more fleshy texture 
 than is general with young men of three- or 
 four-and-twenty. 
 
 ' At last I' muttered Laura Bray, as 
 Charley came smihng up to where she 
 stood; and now beneath that smile the 
 feeling of anger and annoyance at what she 
 had looked upon as his neglect melted 
 away. True, he owed her no allegiance; 
 but she had set herself upon receiving his 
 incense, and the afternoon having passed 
 with hardly a word, a feeling of disappoint- 
 ment of the most bitter nature had troubled 
 her: the music had seemed dirge-like, the 
 brilliant flowers as if strewn with ashes. 
 At times she was for leaving ; but no, she 
 could not do that. She had darted angry 
 and reproachful glances at him again and
 
 112 BY EIRTII A LADY. 
 
 •again, but without effect, and then looked 
 at him with eyes subdued and tearful, still ' 
 in vain: he had seemed almost to avoid 
 her, and such pains too as she had taken to 
 make herself worthy of his regard ! How 
 she had bitten her lips till the blood had 
 nearly started from beneath the bruised 
 skin ! Rage and disappointment had be- 
 tween them shared her breast. Then hi a 
 fit of anger she had commenced quite a 
 flirtation with Hugh Lingon, the son of 
 the owner of the grounds, a fat young 
 gentleman from Cambridge, an ardent cro- 
 ■quetist, but rather famed in his set for the 
 number of times he had been ' ploughed for 
 smalls.' Hugh Lingon had been delighted, 
 smiling so much that the great creases in 
 liis fat face almost closer] his eyes. He 
 ■even went so far as to squeeze Laura's hand, 
 and to tell her that the cup ought to have 
 been presented to her as the fairest flower
 
 SHOOTING AX AEEOW. 113 
 
 there ; but Charley Ymms^ had not seemed 
 to mind the attentions in the least — he had 
 not even appeared troubled ; and at last poor 
 Hug^h Lingon was snnbbed while uttering 
 some platitude, and sent about his business 
 by the imperious beauty, to make room for 
 Charley Yining. whose pleasant smile chased 
 away all Laura's care. 
 
 r>f course she must make allowances for 
 him. He had been busy and bothered 
 about the prize-giving, so how could he 
 attend to her? He was different from 
 other men : so frank and straightforward 
 and bold. She had always felt that he 
 must love her; and after what Sir Philip 
 Yining had hinted to papa, and papa had 
 told mamma, and mamma had pinched her 
 arm and told her in a whisper, what was 
 there to prevent her being Lady Yining and 
 the mistress of Blandfield Court ? 
 
 'At last!' said Laura, and this time 
 
 YOL. I. T
 
 114 BY BIRTH A LADY. 
 
 quite aloud, as Charley came up; v/hen, 
 taking his arm, she bestowed upon him a 
 most reproachful glance. ' I declare I thought 
 your friends were to be quite neglected I' 
 
 'Neglected? 0, I don't know,' said 
 Charley; and then there was a pause. 
 
 ' Why, you grow quite distrait /' said 
 Laura pettishly. ' Why, what can you see 
 to take your attention there ?' 
 
 She followed his gaze, which was di- 
 rected towards a seat across the lawn, 
 whereon were her companion of the day 
 before, one of the ' children,' and Max Bray 
 leaning in an attitude over the back. 
 
 ' Shall we be moving ?' said Charley ab- 
 stractedly. 
 
 ' yes, please do !' said Laura. ' I'm 
 dying for want of an ice, or a cup of tea. 
 I've been pestered for the last half-hour by 
 that horrible fat boy !' 
 
 ' Fat boy !' said Charley wonderingly.
 
 SHOOTIXG AN ARROW. 115 
 
 * Yes ; you know whom I mean — Hugh 
 Lino^on. So oiad to have you come and set 
 me free !' 
 
 Charley Yniing did not say anything; 
 but he led his companion towards the re- 
 freshment-tent, carefully avoiding the open 
 la^vn, and taking her, nowise unwilling, 
 round by the shady walks where there were 
 but few people, her steps growing slower, 
 mid her hand more heavy in its pressure. 
 And still Charley ^Yining was quiet and 
 thoughtful; but he led his companion to 
 the refreshment -tent, handed the demanded 
 ice, and then sauntered with her towards 
 the lawn, still gay with fashionably-dressed 
 groups. 
 
 ' Had we not better get m the shade ?' 
 said Laura languidly. ' The afternoon sun 
 is quite oppressive.' 
 
 ' Let's cross over to Max,' said Charley. 
 * That seems a pleasant shady seat.'
 
 116 BY BIRTH A LADY. 
 
 Laura did not speak, but she looked 
 sidewise in his preoccupied countenance,, 
 and, evidently piqued at what she considered 
 his indifference, allowed herself to be led 
 across the lawn. 
 
 ^ By the way, Miss Bray,' said Charley 
 suddenly, ' you never introduced me to 
 yoiu' lady friend.' 
 
 'Lady friend!' said Laura, as if sur- 
 prised. 
 
 ' Yes, the fair girl that friend Max 
 there seems so taken with. Is it his fiancee T 
 
 Laura Bray's eyes glittered as she bent 
 forward and looked intently in her com- 
 panion's face; then a tightness seemed to 
 come over the muscles of her countenance, 
 giving her a hard bitter look, as a flash of 
 suspicion crossed her mind. The next 
 moment she smiled ; but it was not a plea- 
 sant smile, though it displayed two rows 
 of the most brilliantly-white teeth. But,
 
 SHOOTING AN ARROW. 117 
 
 apparently determined upon her course, 
 she increased the pace at which they were 
 walking till they stood in front of the seat 
 where, with a troubled look in her eyes, 
 sat, listening perforce to the doubtless 
 ao^reeable conversation of Mr. Maximilian 
 Bray, the lady of the railway station, and 
 the companion of Laura m the brougham. 
 
 It was with a look almost of malice 
 that, stopping short, Laura fixed her eyes 
 upon Charley Yining, to catch the play of 
 his countenance as, without altering the 
 direction of her glance, she said aloud : 
 
 ' Miss Bedford, this gentleman has re- 
 quested to be introduced to you — Mr. 
 Charles Vining.' Then, with mock cour- 
 tesy, and still devouring each twitcli and 
 movement, she continued : ' Mr. Charles 
 Vining — Miss Bedford, our new governess F
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 AN UNEXPECTED PROTECTOR. 
 
 Mr. Onesimus Bray led rather an uncom- 
 fortable life at home, and more than once 
 he had confided his troubles to the sympa- 
 thising ear of Sir Philip Yining. Laura 
 was oiven to snubbino^ him ; Max made no 
 scruple about displaying the contempt in 
 which he held his parent ; while as to Mrs. 
 Bray, the wife of his bosom, the principal 
 cause of his suffering from her was the way 
 in which she sat upon him. 
 
 Now it must not be supposed that Mrs. 
 Bray literally and forcibly did perform any 
 such act of cruelty ; for this was only Mr. 
 Bray's metaphorical way of speaking in 
 alluding to the way in which he was kept 
 down and debarred from having a voice in
 
 AX UXEXPECTED PEOTECTOR. Ill) 
 
 his own establishment, the consequence be- 
 ing that he sought for solace and recreation 
 elsewhere. 
 
 Mr. Onesimus Bray was far from being 
 a poor man ; so that if he felt inclined to 
 indulo-e in anv ijarticular hobby, his banker 
 never said him ' Xay,' while if Mrs. Bray's 
 somewhat penurious alarms could be laid 
 by the promise of profit, she would raise 
 not the shghtest opposition to her hus- 
 band's projects. At the present time, Mr. 
 Bray's especial hobby was a model farm, in 
 which no small sum of money had been 
 sunk — of course, with a view to profit; 
 but so far the returns had been 7iiL The 
 old farmers of the neio^hbourhood used to 
 wink and nod their heads together, and 
 cackle like so many of their o'wn geese at 
 what they called Mr. Bray's ' fads' — namely, 
 at his lio^ht ag^ricultiu^al carts and wao^ons ; 
 despising, too, his cows and short-legged
 
 1-0 BY BIKTH A LADY. 
 
 pigs; but, all the same, losing no chance 
 of obtaining a portion of his stock when 
 occasion served. 
 
 Moved by a strong desire to possess the 
 finest Southdown sheep in the county, Mr. 
 Bray had purchased a score of the best 
 to be had for money, among -^vhich was a 
 snowy-wooled patriarchal ram, as noble- 
 looking a specimen of its kind as ever 
 graced a Roman triumphal procession ere 
 bedewing with its heart's blood the sacri- 
 ficial altar. Gentle, quiet, and inofi:ensive, 
 the animal might have been played with by 
 a child before it arrived at Mr. Bray's 
 model farmstead; but having been there 
 confined for a few days in a brick-walled 
 pig- sty, the unfortunate quadruped attracted 
 the notice of the young gentleman whose 
 duty it was to clean knives, boots, and shoes 
 at the Elms, and wait table at dinner, 
 clothed in a jacket glorious with an abun-
 
 AX UNEXPECTED PROTECTOR. 121 
 
 <lant crop of buttons gracefully arranged 
 in the outline of a balloon over his padded 
 chest. It occurred to this young gentle- 
 man one afternoon when alone, that a little 
 playful teasing of the ram might afford him 
 some safe sport; so fetching a large new 
 thrum mop from the kitchen, he held it 
 over the side of the pig-sty, shaking it 
 hercely and threateningly at the ram, till 
 the poor beast answered the challenge of 
 the — to him — strange enemy by backing as 
 far as possible, and then running with all 
 his might at the suddenly-withdrawn mop, 
 when his head would come Avith stunning 
 violence against the bricks, making the wall 
 quiver again. 
 
 The pleasant pastime used to be carried 
 on very frequently, till most probably, not 
 from soreness — rams' heads being slightly 
 thick, and able to suffer even brick walls — 
 but from disappointment at not being able
 
 122 BY BIETH A LADY. 
 
 to smite its adversary, the ram became 
 changed into a decidedly vicious beast, and, 
 as such, he was turned out into one of Mi\ 
 Bray's pleasant meadows. 
 
 JS^ow, as it fell upon a day, perfectly in- 
 nocent of there being any vicious animal in 
 the neighbourhood, Ella Bedford had passed 
 through this very meadow during a walk 
 with her three pupils. The morning was 
 bright and sunshiny, and the sight of a fine 
 snowy-wooled sheep cropping the bright 
 green herbage was not one likely to create 
 alarm. Had it been a cow, or even a calf, 
 it might have been different, and the stiles 
 and footpaths avoided for some other route ; 
 for the female eye is a strong magnifier of 
 the bovine race, and we have known ladies 
 refuse to pass through a field containing 
 half-a-dozen calves, which had been magni- 
 fied, one and all, into bulls of the largest 
 and fiercest character.
 
 AX UNEXPECTED PEOTECTOIi. 123 
 
 There was something delightful to Ella 
 in the sweet repose of the country around. 
 The grass was just springing into its bright- 
 est green, gilded here and there with the 
 burnished buttercups, while in every hedge- 
 side ^oxlips and the nodding violet' were 
 bloomino' ; the oaks, too, were bes^innino; 
 to wear their liverv of i^i-een and o'old. The 
 birds sano; sweetlv as thev ierked them- 
 selves from spray to spray, while that Sims 
 Reeves of the feathered race — the lark — 
 balanced himself far up in the blue ether, 
 and poured out strain after strain of liquid 
 melody. There was that wondrous elasticity 
 in the air, that power which sets the heart 
 throbbing, and the mind dreaming of some- 
 thing bright, ethereal, ungrasped, but now 
 nearer than ever to the one who drinks in 
 the sweet intoxicating breath of s^^ring. 
 
 There was a brightness in Ella's eye, 
 and a slight flush in her cheek, as she
 
 124 BY BIETH A LADY. 
 
 Avalkecl on with her pupils, smiling at each 
 merry conceit, and feeling young herself, 
 in spite of the age of sorrow that had been 
 hers. For a while she foroot the strano;e 
 home and the cool treatment she was re- 
 Kieiving ; the unpleasant attentions, too, of 
 the hopeful son of the house ; the meeting 
 in the gallery. The wearisome compliments 
 at the flower-show were set aside ; for 
 — perhaps influenced by the bright morn- 
 ing — Ella's cheek grew still more flushed, 
 and in spite of herself she dwelt upon the 
 scene where she pictured two beings ad- 
 dressed by a fi-ank bold horseman ; and as 
 his earnest gaze seemed directed once more 
 at her, Ella's heart increased its pulsations, 
 but only to be succeeded by a dull sense of 
 aching misery, as another picture floated 
 before her vision, to the exclusion of the 
 sunny landscaj)e and the glorious spring 
 verdure. The sweet liquid trill of the
 
 AX UXEXPECTED PROTECTOR. 125 
 
 birds, too, grew dull on her ear ; for she 
 seemed once more to see the same earnest 
 gaze fixed upon her face, and then to watch 
 the start of surprise — was it disappoint- 
 ment ? — as ao'ain Laura Brav's words rano^ 
 on her ears : 
 
 ' Miss Bedford, our new governess !' 
 
 It Avas time to cease dreaming, she 
 thouo'ht. 
 
 Walks must come to an end sooner or 
 later ; and a reference to her watch show- 
 ing Ella Bedford that they would only 
 reach the Elms in time for lunch, they 
 began to retrace their steps, when, to the 
 young girl's horror, she saw that they had 
 been followed by no less a personage than 
 ]\Ir. ^Maximilian Bray, whose first act upon 
 reaching them was to take his place by 
 Ella's side, and send his sisters on in 
 advance. 
 
 But that was not achieved without dif-
 
 126 BY BIRTH A LADY. 
 
 ficulty, Miss Nelly turning round sharply 
 and declining to go. 
 
 ' I shan't go, Max ! You only want to 
 talk sugar to Miss Bedford ; and ma says 
 you're ever so much too attentive — so there 
 now !' 
 
 Ella's face became like scarlet, and 
 she increased her pace ; but a whisper 
 from Max sent Nelly scampering off 
 iifter her two sisters — now some distance 
 in advance — when he turned to the go- 
 verness. 
 
 ' Glad I caught up to you, Miss Bedford 
 — I am, bai Jove ! You see, I wanted to 
 have a few words with you.' 
 
 ' Mr. Maximilian Bray will, perhaps, 
 excuse my hurrying on,' said Ella coldly. 
 ^ It is nearly lunch - time, and I am obliged 
 to teach punctuality to my pupils.' 
 
 ' Bai Jove ! ya-as, of course !' said Max. 
 ^ But I never get a word with you at home,
 
 AX rXEXPECTED PROTECTOR. 127 
 
 and I wanted to set myself right with you 
 about that station matter.' 
 
 ' If ^Ir. Bray would be kind enough to 
 forget it. I should be glad.' said Ella 
 quickly. 
 
 * Bai Jove ! ya-as : but, you see, I can't. 
 You see. it was all a joke so as to introduce 
 myself like, being much struck, you know. 
 Bai Jove. Miss Bedford ! I can't tell }-ou 
 how much struck I was with yom* personal 
 appearance — can't mdeed !' 
 
 Ella's lip cuided with scorn as she 
 sliofhtlv bent her head and hurried on. 
 
 " Don't walk quite so fast, my dear — Miss 
 Bedford,' he added after a pause, as he saw 
 the start she eave. 'We shall be time enouoh 
 for limch. I daresay. Pleasant day, ain't it ?' 
 
 Ella bent her head agam in answer, h\it 
 still kept on forcing the pace : for the chil- 
 dren were two fields ahead, and racing on 
 as quickly as possible.
 
 128 BY BIRTH A LADY. 
 
 ' Odd., wasn't it, Miss Bedford, that we 
 should have met as we did, and both com- 
 ing to the same place? Why don't you 
 take my arm? There's nobody looking — 
 this time,' he added. 
 
 The hot blood again flushed up in Ella's 
 cheek as she darted an indignant glance at 
 her persecutor; but there was something 
 ill Max Bray's composition which must 
 have prevented him from reading aright 
 the signs and tokens of annoyance in others; 
 and, besides, he was so lost in admiration 
 of his own graces and position, that when, 
 as he termed it, he stooped to pay attentions 
 to an inferior, every change of countenance 
 was taken to mean modest confusion or de- 
 light. 
 
 'There, don't hurry so!' he exclaimed, 
 laughing. ' Bai Jove, what a fierce little 
 thing you are ! Now, look here : we're 
 quite alone, and I want to talk to you.
 
 AX UNEXPECTED PKOTECIOE. 129 
 
 There, you needn't look round: the chil- 
 dren are half-way home, and we shall be 
 quite unobserved. Bai Jove ! why, what a 
 prudish little creature you are I' 
 
 Ella gave a quick glance round, but only 
 to find that it was just as Max had said. 
 There was a sheep feeding in the field, 
 whose hedo'es were of the his^hest: and for 
 aught she could see to the contrary, there 
 was no assistance within a mile, while Max 
 Bray had cauo-ht her hand in his, and was 
 barring the route. 
 
 Regularly driven to bay, Ella turned 
 upon him with flaming face, trying at the 
 same moment to snatch away her hand, 
 which, however, he held the tighter, crush- 
 hig her fingers painfully, though she never 
 ^•inced. 
 
 ' Mr. Bray,' she exclaimed, * do you wish 
 me to appeal to your father for ^^rotection ?' 
 
 'Of course not I' he drawled. 'But 
 
 VOL. I. K
 
 130 BY BIHTH A LADY. 
 
 there now — bai Jove ! what is the use of 
 your putting on all those fine airs and coy 
 ways? Do you think I'm blind, or don't 
 understand what they mean? Come now, 
 just listen to what I say.' 
 
 Before Ella could avoid his grasp, he 
 had thrown one arm round her ^vaist, when 
 he started back as if stung, for a loud 
 mocking laugh came from the stile. 
 
 ' Ha, ha, ha ! I thought so ! I knew 
 you wanted to talk sugar to Miss Bedford.' 
 At the same moment Max and Ella had 
 seen the merry delighted countenance of 
 ^elly, who had crept silently back, but now 
 darted away like a deer. 
 
 A cold chill shot through Ella Bedford's 
 breast, and it was with the greatest diffi- 
 culty that she could force back the angry 
 tears as she saw that her future was com- 
 pletely marred at the Elms — how that she 
 was, as it were, at the mercy of the young
 
 AN UNEXPECTED PROTECTOR. 131 
 
 <^irl placed iii her charge, unless she fore- 
 stalled any tattling by complaniing herself 
 of the treatment to which she had been 
 subjected. 
 
 ' There, you needn't mind her !' ex- 
 claimed Max, who partly read her thoughts. 
 * I can keep her saucy little tongue quiet. 
 You need not be afraid.' 
 
 * Afraid I' exclaimed Ella indignantly, as 
 she turned upon the speaker mth flashing 
 eyes, and vainly endeavoured to free the 
 hand Max had again secured. 
 
 ' Handsomer every moment, bai Jove !' 
 exclaimed Max. ' You've no idea how a 
 little colour becomes you! Xow, I just 
 want to say a few — ' 
 
 ' Are you aware, sir, that this is a cruel 
 outrage ? — one of which no gentleman 
 would be guilty.' 
 
 ' Outrage ? Xonsense ! What stuff you 
 do talk, my dear ! I should have thought
 
 132 EY BIRTH A LADY. 
 
 that, after what I said to you at the flower- 
 show, you would have been a little more 
 gentle, and not gone flaming out at a poor 
 fellow like this. You see, I love you to 
 distraction, Miss Bedford — I do indeed. 
 Bai Jove, I couldn't have thought that it 
 was possible for anyone to have made such 
 an impression upon me. Case of love at 
 first sight— bai Jove, it was! And here 
 you are so cruel — so hard — so — 'Pon my 
 soul I hardly know what to call it — I don't, 
 bai Jove !' 
 
 'Mr. Bray,' said Ella passionately, ' every 
 word that you address to me in this way is 
 an insult. As the instructor of your sis- 
 ters, your duty should be to protect, not 
 outrage my feelings at every encounter.' 
 
 She struggled to release her hand, but 
 vainly. Each moment his grasp grew 
 firmer, and, like some dove in the claws 
 of a hawk, she panted to escape. She felt
 
 AN UXEXPECTED PROTECTOR. 133 
 
 that it would l)e cowardly to call for help ; 
 besides, it would be only making a scene in 
 the event of assistance beins; near enouo'h 
 to respond to her appeal ; and she had no 
 wish to figure as an injured heroine or 
 damsel in distress. Her breast heaved, and 
 an angry flush suffused her cheeks, while, 
 in spite of every effort, the great hot tears 
 of annoyance and misery would force them- 
 selves to her eyes. She knew it not — 
 though she saw the exquisite's gaze fixed 
 more and more intently .upon her — she 
 knew not how excitement was heightening 
 the soft beauty of her face, brightening her 
 €yes, suffusing her countenance with a 
 warm glow, and lending animation where 
 sorrow had left all tinged ^vith a sad air of 
 gloom — an aspect that had settled down 
 again after the brightness given by the 
 •early part of her walk. 
 
 'There now, don't be foolish, and hurt
 
 134 BY BIETH A LADY. 
 
 the poor little white hand ! You can't got 
 away, my little birdie ; for I've caught you 
 fast. And don't get making those bright 
 eyes all dull and red with tears. I don't 
 like crying — I don't indeed, bai Jove ! Now 
 let's walk gently along together. There — 
 that's the way. And now we can talk, and 
 you can listen to what I have to say.' 
 
 In spite of her resistance, he drew the 
 young girl's hand through his arm, and 
 held it thus firmly. But to walk on, Ella 
 absolutely refused; and stopping short, she 
 tried to appeal to his feelings. 
 
 ' Mr. Bray,' she said, ' as a gentleman, I 
 ask you to consider my position. You have 
 already done me irreparable injury in the 
 eyes of your sister; and now by this per- 
 secution you would force me to leave my 
 situation, perhaps with ignominy. I appeal 
 to your feelings — to your honour — to cease 
 this unmanly pursuit.'
 
 AN UNEXPECTED PROTECTOR. 135 
 
 ' Ah, that's better !' he said mockingly. 
 ' But I'm afraid, my dear, you have a strong 
 tinge of the romantic in your ideas. I see, 
 you read too many novels ; but you'll come 
 round in time to my way of thinking, only 
 don't try on so much of this silly prudish- 
 ness, my dear. It don't do, you know, be- 
 cause I can see through it. There, now, 
 don't struggle; only I'm not going to let 
 you go without something to remember 
 this meeting by. Now don't be silly ! 
 It's no rol)bery — only an exchange. I 
 want that little ring to hang at my watch- 
 chain, and you can wear this one for my 
 sake. There !' he exclaimed triumphantly, 
 as he succeeded in drawing a single gem 
 pearl ring from her finger and placing one 
 he drew from his pocket in its place, Ella 
 the while alternately pale and red with 
 suppressed anger, for she had vainly looked 
 around for help ; and now forcing back her
 
 136 BY BIRTH A LADY. 
 
 tears, and scorning to display any farther 
 weakness, she took off the ring and dashed 
 it upon the path. 
 
 ' What a silly little thing it is !' laughed 
 Bray, who considered that he was hon- 
 ouring her with his attentions, however 
 rough they might be. ' But it's of no 
 use : you don't go till that ring is on 
 your darling little finger — you don't, bai 
 Jove!' 
 
 Was there to be no help? A minute be- 
 fore, she would have refused assistance ; for 
 she did not believe that any one profess- 
 ing to be a gentleman would so utterly have 
 turned a deaf ear to her protestations and 
 appeals. From some low drink-maddened 
 rufhan she might have fled in horror, 
 shrieking, perhaps, for help ; but here, with 
 the son of her employers, Ella had believed 
 that her indignant rejection of the insulting 
 addresses would have been sufficient to set
 
 AN UNEXPECTED PEOTECTOE. 137 
 
 her at liberty. She was, then, half stunned 
 :as to her mental faculties on finding that 
 her words were mocked at, her appeals dis- 
 regarded, and even her indignant looks 
 treated as feints and coyness. But then, 
 poor girl, she did not know Maximilian 
 Bray, and that his gross nature was not 
 one that could grasp the character of a 
 good and pure -hearted woman. It was 
 somethino' he could not understand. He 
 measured other natures by his own, and 
 acted accordingly. Once only the thoughts 
 of Ella Bedford flew towards Charles Vin- 
 ing, as if, in spite of herself, they sought in 
 him her natural protector, but only for an 
 instant ; and now, seriously alarmed, she 
 gazed earnestly round for aid. She would 
 have even gladly welcomed the mock- 
 ing face of Nelly, and have called her to 
 her side. But no, Xelly had hurried away, 
 <iontent and laug^hins; at what she had seen :
 
 138 BY BIRTH A LADY. 
 
 and now from the indignant flush, Ella's 
 face began to pale into a look of genuine 
 alarm. But help was at hand. 
 
 Still holding tightly by her hand, Max 
 Bray stooped to recover the ring, when, 
 suddenly as a flash of light, a white rush- 
 ing form seemed to dart through the air, 
 catching Max Bray, as he bent down, right 
 upon the crown of his hat, crushing it over 
 his eyes, and tumbling him over and over, 
 as a fierce 'Ba-a-a-a !' rung upon his aston- 
 ished ears. 
 
 Set free by this unexpected preserver, 
 Ella, panting and alarmed, fled for the stile 
 and climbed it, when, looking back, she saw 
 that she was safe, while Max Bray rose, 
 struggling to free himself from his crushed- 
 down hat; but only for his father's prize 
 Southdown to dart at and roll him over 
 again ; when, once more rising to his feet, 
 he ran, frightened and blindfold, as hard as
 
 AX rXEXPECTED PEOTECTOE. 139 
 
 he could across the field in the opposite 
 direction. 
 
 Ella saw no more. It did not fall to- 
 her lot to see Max Bray make a blind 
 bound — a leap in the dark — from his un- 
 seen pursuer, and land in the midst of a 
 dense blackthorn hedge, out of which he 
 struggled, torn of flesh and coat, to free 
 himself from the extino^uishini>: hat, and 
 gaze through the hedge-gap at his assailant, 
 who stood upon the other side shaking his 
 head, and bucking and running forward 
 ' ba-a-a-ing' furiously. 
 
 For a few moments Max Bray was 
 speechless with rage and astonishment. To 
 think that he, Maximilian Bray, should 
 have been bowled over, battered, and made 
 to flee ignominiously by a sheep ! It was 
 positively awful. 
 
 ' You — you — you beast ! you — you 
 woolly brute I' he stuttered at last. 'I'll
 
 140 BY BIRTH A LADY. 
 
 — I'll — bai Jove, I'll slioot you as sure as 
 you're there! — I will, bai Jove!' 
 
 But now the worst of the aiFair flashed 
 upon him, making torn clothes, thorns in 
 the flesh, and battered hat seem as no- 
 thing, though these were in his estimation 
 no trifles; but this was the second time 
 within the past few days that he had been 
 wounded in his self-esteem. 
 
 ' And now there's that confounded coy 
 jade run home laughing at me — I'm sure 
 she has !' he muttered. ' 'Not that there 
 was anything to laugh at ; but never mind : 
 " Every dog — " My turn will come! But 
 to be upset like this! And — what? you 
 won't let me come through !' 
 
 There was no doubt about it. The 
 Southdown was keeping guard at the stile, 
 and Max Bray, after trying to repair 
 damages, was glad to make his way back 
 to the Elms by a circuitous route, and then
 
 A^' UNEXPECTE]) PEOTECTOE. 141 
 
 to creep in by the side-door unseen, vowin^i^ 
 vengeance the while against those who had 
 brought him to that pass. 
 
 ' But I'll make an end of the sheep !' he- 
 exckimed — 'I will, bai Jove!'
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 Most persons possessed of feeling will 
 readily agree that scarcely anything could 
 be more unpleasant than for a gentleman, 
 bent upon making himself attractive to a 
 lady, to meet with such a misfortune as to 
 be taken, while in a stooping position, for 
 a defiant beast, and to have to encounter 
 the full force of a Avoolly avalanche, or so 
 much live mutton discharged, as from a 
 catapult, right upon the croAvn of his head. 
 Max Bray was extremely sore afterwards — 
 sore in person and temper: but the most 
 extraordinary part of the affair is, that his 
 head never ached from the fierce blow. It 
 would perhaps be invidious to ofi*er re-
 
 Ella's comfortee. 14o 
 
 marks about thickness, or to make com- 
 parisons; but certainly for two or three 
 days after, when he encountered Ella Bed- 
 ford, Max Bray did wear, in spite of his 
 effrontery, a decidedly sheepish air. But 
 not for a longer period. At the end of that 
 time a great deal of the soreness had worn 
 off, and he was nearly himself again. 
 
 But with Ella Bedford the case was 
 different. She was hourly awakening to 
 the fact that hers was to be no pleasant 
 sojourn at the Elms ; and with tearful eyes 
 she thought of the happy old days at home 
 before sickness fell upon the little country 
 vicarage, and then death removed the 
 simple, good-hearted village clergyman from 
 his flock, to be followed all too soon by his 
 mourning wife. 
 
 ' I have nothing to leave you, my child 
 — nothing!' were almost the father's last 
 words. 'Always poor and in delicate
 
 144 BY BIRTH A LADY. 
 
 health, I could only keep out of debt. But 
 your mother, help her — be kind to her,' he 
 whispered. 
 
 Ella Bedford's help and kindness were 
 only called for during a few months ; and 
 then it fell to her lot to seek for some 
 situation where the accomplishments, for 
 the most part taught by her father, might 
 be the means of providing her with a home 
 and some small pittance. 
 
 By means of advertising, she had suc- 
 ceeded in obtaining the post of governess at 
 the Elms, and it was while on her way to 
 fill that post that she had encountered the 
 hopeful scion of the house of Bray. It was,, 
 then, with a feeling almost of horror that 
 she met him again at the Elms, and her 
 first thought was that she must flee di- 
 rectly — leave the house at once; her next 
 that she ought to relate her adventure 
 to some one. But who would sympathise
 
 ELLA'S COMFORTER. 145 
 
 with her, and rightly view it all? She 
 shrank from harsh loud-voiced Mrs. Bray; 
 jand, almost from the first meeting, Laura 
 had seemed to take a dislike to her — one 
 which she made no scruple of displaying — 
 while, as a rule, she tried all she could to 
 t^how the immeasurable distance she con- 
 sidered that there existed between her and 
 the dependent. 
 
 On the day of the sheep encounter, 
 agitated, wounded, and with great difficulty 
 keeping back her tears, Ella hurried on; 
 and had Max Bray's position been one of 
 danger, it is very doubtful whether any 
 assistance would have been rendered him 
 through Ella, so thoroughly was she taken 
 up with her own position. She felt that 
 she must be questioned respecting her 
 charges reachmg home alone; they would 
 certainly talk about her staying behind with 
 their brother, and the culminating point 
 
 VOL. I. L
 
 14G BY BIRTH A LADY. 
 
 would be reached when Miss Nelly declared 
 what she had seen. 
 
 Well might the poor girl's heart beat 
 as she hastened on; for it seemed as if, 
 through the persecution of a fop, her pro- 
 spects in life were to be blighted at the 
 outset. But there's a silver lining to every 
 cloud, it is said ; and before Ella had gone 
 half a mile, to her great joy she saw Nelly 
 seated with her sisters by a bank, gathering 
 wild flowers, and then tossing them away. 
 
 Fortune favoured her too when they 
 reached the Elms : luncheon — the children's 
 dinner — had been put back for half an hour 
 because Mr. Maximilian had not returned. 
 
 ' Mr. Maximilian ' did not show himself 
 at all at table that day, and, glad of the 
 respite, Ella sought her bedroom directly 
 after, to think over the past, and try and 
 decide what ought to be her course under 
 the circumstances. What would she not
 
 ELL.i-S C03IF0RTER. 147 
 
 have given for the loving counsel of some 
 gentle, true-hearted woman I But she felt 
 that she was quite alone — alone in the vast 
 weary world ; and as such thoughts sprang 
 up came the recollection of the happy 
 bygone, sweeping all l3efore it ; and at last, 
 unable to bear up any longer, she sank 
 upon her knees l)y the bedside, weeping 
 and sobbing as if her poor torn heart would 
 break. 
 
 She struggled hard to keep the tears 
 back, but in vain now — they would come, 
 and with them fierce hysterical sobs, such 
 as had never burst before from her breast. 
 Then would come a cessation, as she asked 
 herself whether she ought not to acquaint 
 ]\Irs. Bray with her son's behaviour? — or 
 would it be making too much of the 
 affair? Then she rcA'iewed her own con- 
 duct, and tried to find in it some flaw — some 
 want of reserve which had brought upon
 
 148 BY BIRTH A LADY. 
 
 her the insults to which she had been sub- 
 jected. But, as might be expected, the 
 search was vain, and once more she bowed 
 do^vn her head and sobbed bitterly for the 
 happy past, the painful present, and the 
 dreary future. 
 
 It was in the midst of her passionate 
 outbursts that she suddenly felt some one 
 kneel beside her, and through her tears she 
 saw, with wonder, the friendly and weeping 
 face of Nelly, who had crept unperceived 
 into the room. 
 
 ' 0, Miss Bedford ! Dear, dear Miss 
 Bedford, please don't — don't !' sobbed the 
 girl, as, throwing her long thin arms round 
 Ella, she drew her face to her own hard 
 bony breast, soothing, kissing, and fondling 
 her tenderly, as might a mother. ' Please 
 — please don't cry so, or you'll break my 
 heart ; for, though you don t think it, I do 
 love you so — so much ! You're so gentle,
 
 Ella's comfortee. 149 
 
 and kind, and wise, and beautiful, that — 
 tliat — that — -0, and you're crying more 
 than ever !' 
 
 Poor Nelly burst out almost into a 
 howl of grief as she spoke ; but, like her 
 words, it was genuine, and as she pressed 
 her rough sympathies upon her weeping 
 o'overness, Ella's sobs o^rew less laboured, 
 and she clung convulsively to the slight 
 form at her side. 
 
 ' There — there — there I' half sobbed 
 Nelly. ^ Try not to cry, dear ; do please 
 try, dear Miss Bedford; for indeed, indeed 
 it does hurt me so ! You made me to love 
 you, and I can't bear to see you like this !' 
 
 So energetic, indeed, was Nelly's grief, 
 that, as she spoke, she kicked out behind, 
 overturning a bedroom chair; but it passed 
 unnoticed. 
 
 ' They say I'm a child ; but I'm not, 
 vou know!' she said half passionately. ^I'm
 
 150 BY EIRTH A LADY. 
 
 sixteen nearly, and I can see as well as 
 other people. Yes, and feel too ! I'm not 
 a child ; and if Laury raps my knuckles 
 again, I'll bite her, see if I don't ! But I 
 know what you're crying about, Miss Bed- 
 ford, and I saw you wanted to cry all din- 
 ner - time, only you couldn't ; it's about 
 Max ; and you thought I should tell that 
 he put his arm round your waist. But I 
 shan't — no, not never to a single soul, if 
 they put me in the rack ! He's a donkey. 
 Max is, and a disagreeable, stupid, cox- 
 comby, stubborn, bubble -headed donkey, 
 that he is ! I saw hhn kiss Miss Twenty- 
 man, who used to be our governess, and 
 she slapped his face — and serve him right 
 too, a donkey, to want to kiss anybody — 
 such stupid silly nonsense ! It's quite right 
 enough for girls and women to kiss ; but 
 for a man — pah ! I don't believe Max was 
 ever meant to be anything but a girl,
 
 Ella's comfortee. 151 
 
 though ; and I told him so once, and he 
 boxed my ears, and I threw the butter- 
 plate at him, and the butter stuck in his 
 whiskers, and it was such fun I forgot to 
 cry, though he did hui't me ever so. But 
 I'm not a child, Miss Bedford, and I do 
 love you ever so much, and I'll never say a 
 single word about you and Max ; and if he 
 ever bothers you again, you say to him, 
 '• How's Miss Brown ?" and he'll colour up, 
 iind be as cross as can be. I often say it 
 to make him cross. He used to go to see 
 her, and she wouldn't have him because she 
 said he was such a muff, and she married 
 Major Tompkins instead. But it does make 
 him cross — and serve him right too, a nasty 
 donkey ! Why, if he'd held my hand like 
 he did yours to-day, I'd have pinched him, 
 and nipped him, and bitten him, that I 
 would! He sha'n't never send me away 
 any more, though ; I shall always stop with
 
 152 BY BIRTH A LADY. 
 
 you, and take care of you, if you'll love me 
 very much ; and I will work so hard — so 
 jolly hard— with my studies, Miss Bedford, 
 I will indeed ; for Pm so behindhand, and 
 it was all through Miss Twentyman being 
 such a cross old frump ! But you needn't 
 be afraid of me, dear; for I'm not a child,, 
 am I ?' 
 
 As Nelly Bray had talked on, fondling 
 her to whom she clung the while, Ella's 
 sobs had grown less frequent, and at last, 
 as she listened to the gaunt overgrown 
 girl's well-meaning, half- childish, half- wo- 
 manly words, she smiled upon her through 
 her tears; for her heart felt lighter, and 
 there was relief, too, in the knowledge that 
 Nelly was indeed enough of a true-hearted 
 woman to read Max Bray's conduct in the 
 right light, and to act accordingly. 
 
 ' You darling dear sweet love of a go^-- 
 erness !* cried Nelly rapturously, as she sa^v
 
 Ella's comforter. 153 
 
 the smile ; and clinging to her neck, she 
 showered down more kisses than were, per- 
 haps, quite pleasant to the recipient. ' You 
 will trust me, won't you?' 
 
 ' I will indeed, dear,' said Ella softly. 
 
 'And you won't fidget?' 
 
 'iS^o,' said Ella. 
 
 ' And now — that's right ; wipe your eyes 
 and sit down — and now you must talk to- 
 me, and take care of me. But you are not 
 cross because I came up without leave?' 
 
 ' Indeed, no,' said Ella sadly. ' I thought 
 I was without a friend, and you came just 
 at that time.' 
 
 ' Xo, no, you mustn't say that,' said 
 Xellv, 'because I am not old and sensible 
 enough to be your friend. But it hurt me 
 to see you in such trouble, and I was obliged 
 to come ; and now you won't be miserable 
 any more ; and you mustn't take any no-- 
 tice ifLaury is disagreeable — a nasty thing!.
 
 154 BY BIETH A LADY. 
 
 flirting all day long with my — with Mr. 
 Hugh Lingon,' she said, colouring. ' But 
 there, I'm not ashamed: Hugh Lingon is 
 my lover, and has been ever since he was 
 fourteen and I was six — when he used to 
 give me sweets, and I loved him, and used 
 to say he was so nice and fat to pinch! 
 And Laury was flirting with him all that 
 afternoon at the show, when Max would 
 hang about — a great stupid ! — when I wanted 
 to explain things; for you know she was 
 flirtino' with Hu2:h because that dear old 
 Charley Vining wouldn't take any notice 
 of her. He is such a dear nice fellow! 
 But I do not love kim^ you know^, only 
 like him; and he likes me ever so much. 
 He told me so one day, and gave me half- 
 a-crown to spend in sweets — wasn't it kind 
 of him? He'll often carry a basket of 
 strawberries or grapes over for me and the 
 girls, or fill his pockets with apples and
 
 155 
 
 pears for us; when, as for old Max, he'd 
 famt at the very sight of a basket, let alone 
 cany it ! Yon will like Charley. He is 
 nice ! Laury loves him a^\^nl — talks about 
 him in her sleep ! But I do not think he 
 €ares for her, — and no wonder I But I 
 say. Miss Bedford, how nice and soft your 
 hand is I and, I say, what a little one ! 
 Why, mine's tmce as big !' 
 
 Ella smiled, and went on smoothinof the 
 girl's rough hair, but hardly heeding what 
 she said — only catching a word here and 
 there. 
 
 ' I shouldn't never love Charley Alining,' 
 said Kelly, whose grammar was exceedingly 
 loose, 'but I should always like him; and 
 if I don't marry Hugh Lingon, I mean to 
 be an old maid, and wear stiff cajis and 
 pinners, and then — You're beginning to 
 cry again, and it's too bad, after all this 
 comforting up !'
 
 15 G BY EIKTK A LADY. 
 
 ' Xo, indeed, my cliild,' said Ella, rous-- 
 h]<j: herself. 'I was only thinkino; that 
 Avheii things are at the blackest some little 
 ray of hope will peep out to light our 
 l)aths; 
 
 " I say,' said Nelly, ' is that poetry?' 
 
 'No,' said Ella, smiling sadly. 
 
 ' Ah, I thought it was,' said Nelly. 
 ' But then I'm so ignorant and stupid f 
 Mamma says I'm fit for nothing, and I sup- 
 pose she's right ! But there, I'm making 
 you tired with my talking, and I won't say 
 another word; only don't you fidget about 
 ]\lax — only snub him well; and I wouldn't 
 tell pa or ma, because it might make mis- 
 chief 
 
 Hanging as it were in the balance, Ella 
 allowed the advice of the child- woman at 
 her side to have effect, and determined to 
 say nothing — to make no complaints, trust- 
 ing to her own firmness to keep her perse-
 
 ELLA'S COMFOETEK. l^n 
 
 ■cntov in his place until his visit was at an 
 end. It was. perhaps, a weak resolve ; l)ut 
 who is there that always takes the better 
 of two roads? It was, however, her deci- 
 sion — lier choice of" way — one which led 
 throu_iz'h a cloud of sorrow, misery, and de- 
 spair so dense, that in after time poor 1^11 a 
 often asked herself was there to be no 
 turning, no byway that should lead once 
 ao-ain, if but for a few hours, into the iov- 
 ous sunshine of hfe?
 
 CHAPTER XL 
 
 CEOQUET AND ROQUET. 
 
 ' Bai Jove, seems a strange thing !' said 
 Max Bray at breakfast-time, about a week 
 after tbe events recorded in the last chapter 
 — ' seems a strange thing you women can't 
 settle anything without showing your teeth !' 
 
 ' You women, mdeed ! Max, how can 
 3'outalk so vulgarly!' exclaimed Laura. 
 
 And then there was silence, for Ella 
 Bedford entered the breakfast-room with 
 her charges. 
 
 Strange or not, there had been some- 
 thing more than a few words that morning 
 in the breakfast-room between Mrs. Bray 
 and her daughter, concerning a croquet- 
 party to come off that afternoon upon the
 
 CROQUET AND EOQUET. 159 
 
 Elms lawn. As for ]Mr. Bray, he liad taken 
 no part in the discussion, ' shutting-up' — to 
 use his son's words — ' like an old gingham 
 umbrella, bai Jove I' 
 
 However, hostilities ceased upon the 
 appearance of Ella with the children ; and 
 ]Mrs. Bray, after shrieking for the tea- 
 caddy, sat down to the urn, and the morn- 
 ing meal commenced. 
 
 ' Of course, mamma,' said Laura sud- 
 denly, ' you won't think of having the chil- 
 dren on the lawn?' 
 
 ' 0, I daresay, miss !' cried Xelly, firing 
 up. ' Just as if we're to be set aside when 
 there's anything gomg on ! Charley Yining 
 says I play croquet just twice as well as 
 you can; and I know he's coming to-day 
 on purpose to see me I' she added mali- 
 ciously. 
 
 Mr. Bray shook his head at her, and 
 Ella slightly raised one finger; but as she
 
 160 BY BIRTH A LADY. 
 
 made a rule of never correcting lier charges 
 when father or mother was present, she did 
 not speak. 
 
 ' Hold your tongue, you pert child !' 
 exclaimed Laura, with a toss of the head. 
 ' You'll let Miss Bedford keep them in the 
 schoolroom, of course, mamma ?' 
 
 ' Indeed, I don't see why they should 
 not have a game as well as their sister!' 
 shrieked Mrs. Bray, from behind the urn; 
 for after the hostilities of that morning 
 mamma would not budge an inch. 
 
 The breakfast ended, Nelly ran round 
 to give Mrs. Bray a sounding kiss, and then 
 danced after her sisters and their governess 
 into the schoolroom. 
 
 ' There, hooray ! Beaten her !' shouted 
 Nelly, clapping her hands. ' I knew what 
 she meant. Miss Bedford. She didn't want 
 you to be on the lawn and come and play ; 
 •■and now she's beaten, and serve her right
 
 CROQUET AND EOQUET. 161 
 
 too ! She's afraid Charley Yining will take 
 more notice of you than he does of her, 
 and I shall tell him.' 
 
 ' My dear Nelly !' exclaimed Ella, with a 
 look of pain on her countenance ; when her 
 wild young charge dropped demurely into 
 a seat, and began to devour French irregu- 
 lar verbs at a tremendous rate, working at 
 them thoroughly hard, and, having a very 
 retentive memory, making some progress. 
 
 These were Ella's happiest moments; 
 for, in spite of their roughness, the three 
 girls in her charge, one and all, evinced a 
 liking for her ; and save at times, when she 
 broke out into a thorough childish fit, 
 Nelly grew hourly more and more womanly 
 under her care. But Ella was somewhat 
 troubled respecting the afternoon's meeting, 
 and would gladly have spent the time in 
 solitude, for it was plain enough that she 
 was to be present solely out of oi3position 
 
 VOL. I. M
 
 162 BY BIBTH A LADY. 
 
 to Laura ; and in spite of all her efforts, it 
 seemed that she was to grow daily more 
 distasteful to the dark beauty, who openly 
 showed her dislike before Ella had been in 
 the house a week. 
 
 However, the schoolroom studies made 
 very httle progress that morning; for be- 
 fore long Mrs. Bray entered to give orders 
 respecting dress, sending Nelly into ecsta- 
 sies as she cast her book aside ; and at three 
 o'clock that afternoon, as Laura swept 
 across the lawn to meet some of the com- 
 ing guests, there was a look of annoyance 
 upon her countenance that was ill-concealed 
 by the smile she wore. 
 
 ' So absurd !' she had just found time to 
 say to Mrs. Bray, ' bringing those children 
 and their governess out upon the croquet- 
 ground as if on purpose to annoy people, 
 who are made to give way to humour their 
 schoolroom whims!*
 
 CROQUET AXD EOQUET. 163 
 
 Mrs. Bray's reply was a toss of the head, 
 as she turned off to meet her hopeful son 
 Max, who, after pains that deserved a bet- 
 ter recompense, now made his appearance 
 dressed for the occasion. 
 
 'Just in time, bai Jove!' he drawled; 
 and then he started slightly, for, makmg a 
 survey of the lawn, he suddenly became 
 aware that Ella Bedford was seated within 
 a few yards with her pupils. '0, here's 
 Miss Bedford!' he exclaimed; 'and, let's 
 see, there's Laura ; and who are those with 
 her ? 0, the EUis people. They don't play. 
 I want to make up a set at once — want ano- 
 ther gentleman. Why, there's Charley Yin- 
 ing just coming out of the stable-yard ; rode 
 over, I suppose. Perhaps he'll play.' 
 
 Ella shrank back, and sent an appeahng 
 look towards Mrs. Bray; but as Max had 
 said Miss Bedford was to play, there was 
 no appeal.
 
 164 BY BIETH A LADY. 
 
 ' Perhaps Miss Nelly here would like to 
 take my place?' said Ella. 
 
 ' 0, dear me, no, Miss Bedford ! Mr. 
 Maximilian selected you as one of the set, 
 and I should not like him to be disap- 
 pointed,' said Mamma Bray. 
 
 ' You'll play, Vining ?' drawled Max. 
 
 ' Well, no ; I don't care about it,' said 
 Charley good-humouredly. ' I'll make room 
 for some one else.^ 
 
 ' Ya-a-as, but we haven't enough with- 
 out you,' said Max. ^ You might take 
 a mallet, you know, till some one else 
 comes.' 
 
 ' 0, very good,' said Charley, who had 
 just caught sight of Ella with a mallet in 
 her hand. ' I'm ready.' 
 
 ' Then we'll have a game at once before 
 any one else comes. Now then, Laura, 
 here's Charley Yining breaking his heart 
 because you don't come and play on his side.
 
 CROQUET AND ROQUET. 165 
 
 I daresay, though, Miss Bedford and I can 
 get the better of you.' 
 
 But Max Bray's arrangement for a snug 
 parti of four was upset by fresh arrivals — 
 Hugh Lingon, looking very stout, pink, and 
 warm, with a couple of sisters, both stouter, 
 pinker, and warmer, and a very slim young 
 curate from a neighbouring village, arriving 
 just at the same time. 
 
 Then followed a little manosuvring and 
 arranging ; but in spite of brother and 
 sister playing into each other's hands, 
 the game commenced with Max Bray 
 upon the same side as Laura, one of the 
 stout Miss Lingons, and the slim curate ; 
 while Charley Vining had Ella under his 
 wing. 
 
 Croquet is a very nice amusement : not 
 that there is much in the game itself, which 
 is, if anything, rather tame; but it serves 
 as a means for bringing people together —
 
 166 BY BIRTH A LADY. 
 
 as a vehicle for chatting, flirting, and above 
 all, carrying off the ennui so fond of mak- 
 ing its way into social fashionable life. 
 You can help the trusting friend so nicely 
 through hoop after hoop, receiving all the 
 while such prettily-spoken thanks and such 
 sweet smiles ; there is such a fine opportu- 
 nity too, whilst assuming the leadership and 
 directing, for enabling the young lady to 
 properly hold her mallet for the next blow 
 — arranging the little fingers, and pressing 
 them inadvertently more tightly to the stick ; 
 and we have known very enthusiastic ama- 
 teurs go so far as to kneel down before a 
 lady, and raise one delicate hottine^ placing 
 it on the player's ball, and holding it firmly 
 while the enemy is croque'd. Apropos 
 of enemies, too, how they can be pun- 
 ished ! How a rival can be ignominiously 
 driven here and there, and into all sorts of 
 uncomfortable places — under bushes and
 
 CKOQUET AND EOQUET. 167 
 
 behind trees, wired and pegged, and treated 
 in the most cruel manner ! 
 
 And so it was at the Elms croquet 
 party. Looking black almost as night, 
 Laura struck at the balls viciously — a prime 
 new set of Jaques's best — chipping the edge 
 of her mallet, bruising the balls, and driv- 
 ing Ella Bedford's 'Xo. 1, blue,' at times 
 right off the croquet-ground. Xot that it 
 mattered in the least ; for in spite of his 
 self- depreciation, Charley Vining was an 
 admirable player, making long shots, and 
 fetching up Ella's unfortunate ball, taking 
 it with him through hoop after hoop, till 
 Laura's eyes flashed, and Max declared, 
 ' bai Jove !' he never saw anything like it ; 
 when Charley would catch a glimpse of 
 Ella's troubled look, recollect himself, and 
 perform the same acts of kindness for the 
 plump Miss Lingon, to receive in return 
 numberless ' 0, thank you's!' and ' 0, how
 
 168 BY BIRTH A LADY. 
 
 clever's!' and ' So much obliged, Mr. Yin- 
 ingV while Hhat governess/ as Laura called 
 her, never once uttered a word of thanks. 
 As for Hugh Lingon, he was always no- 
 where ; and as he missed his aim again and 
 again, he grew more and more divided in 
 his opinions. 
 
 First he declared that the ground was 
 not level ; but seeing the good strokes made 
 by others, he retracted that observation, 
 and waited awhile. 
 
 'I don't think my ball is quite round, 
 Vining,' he exclaimed, after another bad 
 stroke. 
 
 ' Pooh ! nonsense !' laughed Charley. 
 ' You didn't try ; it was because you didn't 
 want to hit Miss Bray.' 
 
 ' No — no ! 'Pon my word, no — 'pon my 
 word!' exclaimed Hugh, protesting as he 
 grew more and more pink. 
 
 ' Did his best, I'd swear — bai Jove, he
 
 CROQUET AND ROQUET. 169 
 
 did !' drawled Max, playing, and sending 
 poor Lingon off the ground. 
 
 Then, after a time, Lingon had his turn 
 once more. 
 
 ' It's not the ball, it's this mallet — it is 
 indeed !' he exclaimed, after an atrocious 
 blow. ' Just you look here, Vining : the 
 handle's all on one side.' 
 
 'Never mind! Try again, my boy,' 
 laughed Charley; and soon after he had to 
 bring both his lady partners up again to 
 their hoop, sendmg Laura's ball away to 
 make room for them, and on the whole 
 treating it rather harshly, Laura's eyes 
 flashing the while with vexation. 
 
 ' I Hke croquet for some things,' said 
 Laura's partner, the thin curate, after vainly 
 trying to render her a service ; ^ but it's a 
 very unchristian-like sort of game — one 
 seems to give all one's love to one's friends, 
 and to keep none for one's enemies.'
 
 170 BY BIRTH A LADY. 
 
 ^ 0, come, I say/ laughed Charley, who 
 seemed to be in high spirits. ' Here's Mr. 
 Louther talking about love to Miss Bray T 
 
 ' Indeed, I assure you — ' exclaimed the 
 curate. 
 
 'But I distinctly heard the word,^ 
 laughed Charley. 
 
 'Was that meant for a witticism?' 
 sneered Laura. 
 
 ' Wit ? no !' said Charley good-humour- 
 edly. ' I never go in for that sort of 
 thing.' 
 
 'Bai Jove, Vining! why don't you at- 
 tend to the ga-a-a-me ?' drawled Max, who 
 was suffering from too much of the second 
 Miss Lingon — a young lady who looked 
 upon him as an Adonis. 
 
 'Not my turn,' said Charley. 
 
 ' Yes, yes !' said Hugh Lingon inno- 
 cently. ' Miss Bedford wants you to help 
 her along !
 
 CROQUET AND EOQUET. 171 
 
 ^ Of course,' sneered Laura. ' Such im- 
 pudence !' 
 
 But Charley did not heai' her words; 
 for he was already half way towards poor 
 Ella, who seemed to shrink from him as he 
 approached, and watched with a troubled 
 breast the efforts he made upon her behalf. 
 
 ^Now it's my turn again,' said Hugh. 
 ' Now just give me your advice here, Yin- 
 inor. '^^hat ouo^ht I to do ?' 
 
 Charley interrupted a remark he was 
 making to Ella Bedford, and pointed out 
 the most advantageous play, when Hugh 
 Lingon raised his mallet, the blow fell, and 
 — ^he missed. 
 
 'Now, did you ever see anything like 
 that ?' he exclaimed, appealing to the com- 
 pany. 
 
 'Yes, often!' laughed Charley. 
 
 ' But what can be the reason?' exclaimed 
 Lingon.
 
 172 BY BIRTH A LADY. 
 
 ^ Why, bai Jove ! it's because you're 
 such a muff, Lingon, bai Jove !' exclaimed 
 Max. 
 
 ^I am — I know I am!' said Lingon 
 good-humouredly. ' But, you know, I can't 
 help it — can't indeed !' 
 
 The game went on with varying in- 
 terest, Charley in the intervals trying to 
 engage Ella in conversation ; but only to 
 find her retiring, almost distant, as from 
 time to time she caught sight of a pair of 
 fierce eyes bent upon her from beneath 
 Laura's frowning brows. But there was a 
 sweetness of disposition beaming from Ella's 
 troubled countenance, and the tokens of a 
 rare intellect in her few words — spoken to 
 endeavour to direct him to seek for others 
 with more conversational power, but with 
 precisely the contrary effect — that seemed 
 to rouse in Sir Philip Vining's son feelings 
 altogether new. He found himself dwelling
 
 CROQUET AND EOQUET. 173 
 
 upon every word, every sweet and musical 
 tone, drinking in each troubled, trembling 
 look, and listening with ill-concealed eager- 
 ness even for the words spoken to others. 
 
 ' Bai Jove !' exclaimed Max at length, 
 angrily to his sister, ' what's the matter with 
 that Charley Yining?' 
 
 ' Don't ask me !' cried Laura pettishly, 
 as she turned from him to listen to and 
 then to snub the slim curate, who, after ten 
 minutes' consideration, had worked up and 
 dehvered a compliment. 
 
 Once only did Ella trust herself to look 
 at Charley, taking in, though, with that 
 glance the open-countenanced, happy Eng- 
 lish face of the young man, but shrinking 
 within herself the next instant as she seemed 
 to feel the bold, open, but still respectfully- 
 admiring glance directed at her. 
 
 Two other croquet sets had been made 
 upon the great lawn ; and, taking the first
 
 174 BY BIRTH A LADY. 
 
 opportunity, Ella had given up her mallet 
 into other hands — an act, to Laura's great 
 disgust, imitated by Charley Vining, who, 
 however, found no opportunity for again 
 approaching Ella Bedford until the hour of 
 dinner was announced, when, the major por- 
 tion of the croquet-players having departed, 
 the remainder — the invited few — met in the 
 drawing-room.
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 CROSS UPON CROSS. 
 
 ' Will you take down Miss Bedford, Max ? 
 said Mrs. Brav, accordino^ to instructions 
 from her son, who, however, was not pre- 
 sent, his toilet having detained him; and, 
 therefore, trembling Ella fell to the lot of 
 Charley Yining, whom, she knew not why, 
 she seemed to fear now as much as she did 
 Max Bray. 
 
 And yet she could not but own that he 
 was only frank, cordial, and gentlemanly. 
 Only! Was that all? She dared not answer 
 that question. Neither could he answer sun- 
 dry questions put by his own conscience, as 
 from time to time he encountered angry, 
 reproachful glances from the woman who
 
 176 BY BIRTH A LADY. 
 
 sat opposite, but to whom, whatever might 
 have been assumed, he had never uttered a 
 word that could be construed into one of 
 love. 
 
 Somehow or another, during that dinner. 
 Sir Philip's words would keep repeating 
 themselves to Charley, and at last he found 
 himself muttering : ' Shut myself out from 
 an Eden — from an Eden!' while, when the 
 ladies rose, and the door had closed upon 
 the last rustling silk, a cloud appeared 
 to have come over the scene, and he 
 sat listening impatiently to the drawl of 
 Max, and the agricultural converse of Mr. 
 Bray. 
 
 It was with alacrity, then, that Charley 
 left the table, when, upon reaching the 
 drawing-room, he found Laura hovering in 
 a paradise of musical R's, as she sat at the 
 piano, rolling them out in an Italian bravura 
 song, whose pages, for fear that he should
 
 CROSS UPOX CROSS. 177 
 
 be forestalled by Charley Yining, Hugh 
 Lingon rushed to turn over. 
 
 ' Xow Miss Bedford will sing us some- 
 thing,' shrieked Mrs. Bray; and not daring 
 to decline, Ella rose and walked to the 
 piano, taking up a song from the canter- 
 bury. But her hands trembled as a sha- 
 dow seemed to be cast upon her ; and vnlh- 
 out daring to look, she knew that Charley 
 Yining was at her side, ready to turn over 
 the leaves. 
 
 *Ifhe would only go!' she thought; and 
 then she commenced with tremulous voice 
 a sweet and plaintive ballad, breathing of 
 home and the past, when, living as it were 
 in the sweet strain, her voice increased in 
 volume and pathos, the almost wild expres- 
 sion thrillino; throuo:h her hearers, till to- 
 wards the end of the last verse, when for- 
 getting even Yining' s presence in the re- 
 collections evoked, Ella was brought back 
 
 VOL. I. N
 
 178 BY BIRTH A LADY. 
 
 to the present with a start, as one single 
 hot tear-drop fell upon her outstretched 
 hand. 
 
 How she finished that song she never 
 knew, nor yet how she concealed her pain- 
 ful agitation ; but her next recollection was 
 of being in the conservatory with Charley 
 Yining, alone, and with his deep -toned 
 voice seeming to breathe only for her 
 ear. 
 
 ' You must think it weak and childish,' 
 he said softly; ' but I could not help it,' he 
 added simply. 'Perhaps I am, after all, 
 only an overgrown boy; but that was my 
 dear mother's favourite song — one which I 
 have often listened to ; and as you sung to- 
 night, the old past seemed to come back 
 almost painfully. But I need not fear that 
 you will ridicule me.' 
 
 ' Indeed, no !' said Ella softly. ' I can 
 only regret that I gave you pain.'
 
 CEOSS UPON CEOSS. 179 
 
 ' Pain ! Xo, it was not pain/ said Char- 
 ley musingly. • I cannot explain the feel- 
 ing. I am a great behever in the power of 
 music ; and had we been alone, I might 
 have asked you to repeat the strain. I am 
 only too glad, though, that my poor father 
 was not here.' 
 
 There was a pause for quite a minute — 
 one which, finding how her companion had 
 been moved, Ella almost feared to break; 
 when seeing him start back, as it were, into 
 the present and its duties, she made a 
 movement as if to return. 
 
 ' But one minute, Miss Bedford,' said 
 Charley. 'You achnire flowers, I see. Look 
 at the metallic, silvery appearance of these 
 leaves.' 
 
 'Pray excuse me, Mr. Yining,' said 
 Ella quietly, ' but I wish to return to the 
 drawing-room.' 
 
 ' Yes — yes — certauily !' exclaimed Char-
 
 180 BY BniTH A LADY. 
 
 ley. ' But one moment : I have something 
 to say to you.' 
 
 ' Mr. Vinmg is mistaken,' said Ella 
 coldly ; ' he forgets that I am not a visitor 
 or friend of the family. Pray allow me to 
 return !' 
 
 ' Of course — yes !' said Charley. ' But 
 indeed I have something to say, Miss Bed- 
 ford. Look here !' 
 
 He drew the little gold cross from his 
 pocket, and held it up in the soft twilight 
 shed by the coloured lamps, when his com- 
 panion uttered a cry of joy. 
 
 ' I have grieved so for its loss!' she ex- 
 claimed. ' You found it ?' 
 
 ' Yes ; beneath that tree where you 
 were taking refuge from the rain. I know 
 it was my duty to have returned it sooner; 
 but I wished to place it in your hands my- 
 self^ 
 
 ' 0, thank you — I am so grateful !' ex-
 
 CROSS UPOX CROSS. 181 
 
 claimed Ella, hardly noticing the empresse- 
 ment with which he spoke. 
 
 * I wished, too,' said Charley, speaking 
 softly and deeply, 'for some reward for 
 what I have done.' 
 
 'Reward?' ejaculated Ella. 
 
 ' Surely, yes,' said Charley, laying his 
 hand upon the tiny glove resting upon his 
 arm. 'You would accord that to the 
 poorest lout who had been the lucky finder.' 
 
 'Reward, Mr. Vining?' stammered Ella. 
 
 ' Yes !' exclaimed Charley, his rich deep 
 voice growing softer as he spoke. ' And 
 but for those words upon the reverse side, 
 I would have kept the cross as an emblem 
 of my hope. I, too, had a mother who is 
 but a memory now. But you will grant 
 me what I ask?' 
 
 'Mr. Yining,' said Ella gravely, but 
 unable to conceal her agitation, ' will you 
 kindly lead me back to the drawing-room?
 
 182 BY BIRTH A LADY. 
 
 I thank you for restoring me the cross, 
 which I had never hoped to see again.' 
 
 She held out her hand, and the little 
 ornament was immediately placed within 
 her palm. 
 
 ' You see,' said Charley, ' I trust to your 
 honour. I am defenceless now, but you 
 will give me my guerdon?' 
 
 ' Eeward ?' said Ella again. 
 
 ' Yes,' said Charley eagerly; 'I do not 
 ask much. That rose that you have worn 
 the evening through : give me that — I ask 
 no more.' 
 
 ' Mr. Vining,' said the agitated girl, ' I 
 am poor and friendless, and here as a de- 
 pendent. I say thus much, since I believe 
 you to be a gentleman. You would not 
 wilfully injure me, I am sure; but this 
 prolonged absence may give umbrage to 
 my employers. Once more, pray lead me 
 back!'
 
 CROSS TJPOX CROSS. 183 
 
 Charley -was moved by the appeal, and 
 he turned on the instant. 
 
 •But you will give me that simple 
 flower?' he said. 
 
 ' Mr. Yining,' said Ella with dignity, 
 ' would you have me lose my self-respect ? 
 I thank you for the service — indeed I 
 am most grateful — but I cannot accede to 
 yom^ request.' 
 
 'I had hoped that I might be looked 
 on as a friend,' said Charley gloomily, as he 
 once more arrested his companion's steps; 
 ' but there, I suppose if it had been — Pish ! 
 forgive me, pray!' he exclaimed. 'How 
 weak and contemptible I am ! Miss Bed- 
 ford, I am quite ashamed to have spoken 
 so. But tell me that you forgive me, 
 and—' 
 
 ' Is Miss Bedford so mortally offended ?' 
 said a voice close at their side. ' I have 
 no doubt we can manage to obtain her for-
 
 184 BY BIRTH A LADY. 
 
 giveness for you, Mr. Yining. But not 
 to-night, as there will not be time. — Nelly 
 wants you in the schoolroom. Miss Bedford, 
 !ind then, as it is late, perhaps you had 
 better not return to the drawing-room this 
 evening.' 
 
 Ella Bedford started, as, with flashing, 
 angry eyes, Laura Bray stepped forward 
 from behind the thick foliage of an orange- 
 tree, and then, without a word — for she 
 could not have spoken, so bitter, so cruel 
 were the tones, and so deep the sting — 
 Ella glided from the conservatory, leaving 
 Laura face to face with Charley. 
 
 ' I am sorry to have interrupted so plea- 
 sant a tete-a-tete!' exclaimed Laura taunt- 
 ingly. 
 
 There was no answer. Charley merely 
 leaned against the open window, and gazed 
 out upon the starry night ; for he could not 
 trust himself to speak, since every humiliat-
 
 CEOSS UPON CROSS. 185 
 
 ing word addressed to his late companion 
 had seemed to cut into his own heart; and 
 had he spoken, it would have been with 
 some hot angry words, of which he would 
 afterwards have repented. 
 
 ' Had I kno^vn that Mr. Charles Yining 
 was so pleasantly engaged, I would not 
 have come,' said Laura again bitterly, and 
 with reproach in every tone of her voice. 
 
 Again angry words were on Charley's 
 lips; but for the sake of her who had left 
 him he crushed them down, as he stood 
 listening to the impatient foot of the angry 
 girl beating the tiled floor, and seemed to 
 feel her eyes burning him as they literally 
 flashed with suppressed rage. 
 
 'Perhaps noAV that Mr. Vining is dis- 
 engaged he will lead me back to the draw- 
 ing-room, as it might be painful to his feel- 
 ings for people afterwards to make remarks 
 upon our absence.'
 
 186 BY BIRTH A LADY. 
 
 Charley started at this, and made a 
 movement as if to offer his arm; but the 
 remembrance of the cruel insult to the 
 dependent yet rankled in his breast, and 
 he seemed to shrink from the angry woman 
 as from something that he loathed. 
 
 Laura saw it, and a sob of rage, disap- 
 pointment, and passion combined burst 
 from her breast. But even then, if he had 
 made but one sign, she would have softened 
 and thrown herself weeping upon his breast, 
 reproaching, upbraiding, but loving still, 
 and ready to forgive and forget all the 
 past. But Charles Yining was touched to 
 the quick, and, in spite of his calm unmoved 
 aspect, he was hot with passion, wishing in 
 his heart that Max had been the offender, 
 that he might have quenched his rage by 
 shaking him till those white teeth of his 
 chattered again. Then came, though, the 
 thought of Ella Bedford and her position.
 
 CROSS UPO]^ CEOSS. 187 
 
 If he was cold and distant to Laura, would 
 she not visit it upon that defenceless girl ? 
 Then he told himself she could behave with 
 no greater cruelty, humiliate her no more, 
 and he felt that he could not play the 
 hypocrite. His growing dislike for Laura 
 Bray was fast becoming a feeling of hatred, 
 and facing her for a moment, he was about 
 to leave the conservatory alone; but no, 
 the gentlemanly courtesy came back — he 
 could not be guilty of rudeness even to the 
 woman he despised ; and without a word, 
 he oiFered his arm, and prepared to lead 
 her back to the drawing-room. 
 
 For a moment Laura made as if to 
 take the proffered arm ; but at that moment 
 she caught sight of Charley's frowning, 
 angry face, when, with a cry of passionate 
 grief, she darted past him, and the next 
 instant he saw her cross the hall and hurry 
 upstairs.
 
 188 BY BIRTH A LADY. 
 
 ' Hyar — hyar, Vining, mai dear fellow, 
 where are you?' cried a drawling voice 
 from the other end of the conservatory. 
 
 'Confound it all!' ejaculated Charley, 
 waking as it were into action at the tones 
 of that voice, when with a bound he leaped 
 from the window out on to the lawn, thrust 
 out his Gibus hat, crushed it down again 
 upon his head, and set off with long strides 
 in the direction of the Court.
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 THE CLEARING OF A DOUBT. 
 
 ' My dear boy, yes — of course I will ; and 
 we'll have a nice affair of it ! Edgington's 
 people shall fit up a tent and a kiosk, and 
 we'll try and do the thing nicely. You're 
 giving me great pleasure in this, Charley — 
 you are indeed !' 
 
 ^ Am I, father ?' said Charley, whose 
 heart smote him as he spoke, teUing him- 
 self the while that he was deceiving the 
 generous old man, with whom he had 
 hitherto been open as the day. 
 
 ' Yes, my dear boy — yes, of course you 
 are! It's just what I wanted, Charley, to 
 see you a little more inclined for society. 
 You'll have quite a large party, of course ?'
 
 190 BY BIRTH A LADY. 
 
 ' Well, no, father,' said Charley ; ' I think 
 not. Your large affairs are never so suc- 
 cessful as the small ones.' 
 
 'Just so, my dear boy; I think you are 
 right. Well, have it as you please, pre- 
 cisely, only give your orders. Slave of the 
 lamp, you know, Charley — slave of the 
 lamp : what shall I do first ?' 
 
 ' Well, dad,' said Charley, flushing 
 slightly, ' I thought, perhaps, you wouldn't 
 mind doing a little of the inviting for me.' 
 
 ' Of course not, my dear boy. Whom 
 shall I ask first?' 
 
 ' Well, suppose you see the Brays,' said 
 Charley, whose face certainly wore a deeper 
 hue than usual. 
 
 'To be sure, Charley!' said the old gen- 
 tleman, smiling. 
 
 ' They've been very kind, and asked me 
 there several times, so you'll ask them all?' 
 
 ' Decidedly !' said the old gentleman.
 
 THE CLEAEIKa OF A DOUBT. 191 
 
 ' We must have Max/ said Charley ; ' for 
 he keeps hanging about here still.' 
 
 ' 0, of course !' said Sir Philip. 
 
 ' And Laura, I suppose,' said Charley, 
 feeling more and more conscience-stricken. 
 
 'By all means, my dear boy!' laughed 
 the father. 
 
 ' And then there are the three girls, 
 and the governess^' said Charley. 
 
 ' Should you ask them?' said Sir Philip. 
 
 ' yes, decidedly !' said Charley. ' I'm 
 very fond of that second girl, Nelly ; she's 
 only a child, but there's something nice 
 and frank and open about her. She will 
 be sure to make up for the unpleasantry 
 of having Max.' 
 
 ^ Yery good, Charley — ^very good!' said 
 Sir Philip. 
 
 ^ I wouldn't be put off with any of them,' 
 said Charley, in a curious hesitating way. 
 'Perhaps they'll say that they had better
 
 192 BY BIRTH A LADY. 
 
 not all come; but they can't refuse you 
 anything, so insist upon them bringing the 
 children and Miss Bedford.' 
 
 'Miss who?' said Sir Philip. 
 
 'Miss Bedford — the governess,' said 
 Charley, who coughed as if something had 
 made him husky. ' I particularly wish for 
 them all to come.' 
 
 ' It shall be just as you like, my dear 
 boy,' said Sir Philip gaily ; ' only let's do 
 the thing well, and not let them go away 
 and find fault afterwards.' 
 
 Charley Yining left his father ill at ease 
 and dissatisfied, for he felt that he was de- 
 ceiving the old man; but, like many more, 
 he crushed down the obtrusive thoughts, 
 and, going round to the stable, he mounted 
 his mare as soon as it could be got ready, 
 and rode slowly and thoughtfully away. 
 
 ' What's come to the young governor ?' 
 said one of the stablemen.
 
 THE CLEAPJXG OF A DOUBT. 193 
 
 ' 0, the old game !' said another. ' He's 
 been betting heavy on the Derby, and lost, 
 and the old gentleman won't pay his debts. 
 I shouldn't be at all surprised if as soon as 
 he comes in for the place, he'll make the 
 money flv/ 
 
 'Don't think it's that,' said the other. 
 ' But he never takes a bit of notice of his 
 'orses now ; if they look well, they do, and 
 if they don't look well, they don't; but he's 
 never got a word to say about them. There's 
 something wrong, safe.' 
 
 There Avas a good deal of truth in the 
 remarks of the servants; for the Charley 
 Yining of the present was certainly not the 
 Charley Yining of a month before. Since 
 the night of the croquet-party he had 
 several times met Laura Bray, who, like 
 himself, had endeavoured to ignore entirely 
 their encounter in the conservatory, speak- 
 ing in the most friendly manner, and en- 
 
 VOL. I.
 
 194 BY BIRTH A LADY. 
 
 deavouring to the best of her ability to bring 
 Charley more to her side. In fact, so com- 
 pletely was the past evaded, that Charley 
 called several times, meeting a warmer wel- 
 come at every visit; but not once did he 
 encounter Ella. He was very little more 
 fortunate during his rides : once he pressed 
 forward his horse upon seeing her at some 
 distance down a lane with the 'children;' 
 but suddenly Max Bray made his ap- 
 pearance, as if by magic, and fixing upon 
 him, kept by his side for quite an hour ; 
 another time Max was walking with his 
 sisters and their governess ; while upon 
 a third occasion Max was coming in the 
 other direction, as if purposely to meet 
 them, and as Charley rode away his brow 
 grew dark, and he asked himself what it 
 meant. 
 
 In fact, watch as carefully as he would 
 for a meeting, his efforts seemed in vain ;
 
 THE cleaiii:n'g of a doubt. 195 
 
 while the more he was disappointed, the 
 more eager he became. 
 
 It was upon one of these occasions 
 that he had drawn up his horse by a 
 hedge-side, gazing angrily after the dis- 
 tant party, consisting of Ella, two of the 
 children, and Max, when, angry and dis- 
 appointed, he was considering whether 
 he should canter up after them or turn 
 back. 
 
 'Why should I bother myself?' he mut- 
 tered. 'If she likes that donkey danghng 
 after her, I'm quite convinced that she 
 would not approve of rough unpolished me. 
 I'll give up. Max shall have the field to 
 himself, and I'll go back and ask the gov- 
 ernor to let me live in peace. I've only 
 been making a mistake, and neglecting 
 everything for the sake of a pleasant-look- 
 ing face. Hallo !' 
 
 ' Ha, ha, ha !' rang out a merry laugh.
 
 196 BY BIRTH A LADY. 
 
 ' Look at Sir Dismal, pausing thoughtfully 
 beneath the trees.' 
 
 Charley looked up, to see peering down 
 upon him, from between the bushes on the 
 high bank, the bright merry face of Nelly, 
 with her hair tangled, her straw hat bent 
 of brim, and a general aspect about her hot 
 face and tumbled clothes of having been 
 tearing through a wood. 
 
 'What, my little dryad!' laughed out 
 Charley, brightening in an instant. ' How 
 is the little wood-nymph?' 
 
 '0, so jolly hot and tired, Charley! 
 I've cut away from them, run up the 
 bank, and scampered through Bosky Dell, 
 and tore my dress ever so many times. 
 But I wasn't going to stay; at least, I 
 ought to have stayed,' she added thought- 
 fully, 'but I felt as if I couldn't, for old 
 Max would have made me ill — he would, 
 bai Jove !' she laughed, mocking ^her bro-
 
 THE CLEARING OF A DOUBT. 197 
 
 ther's drawl with an accuracy which de- 
 lighted Charley. 
 
 ' Been having a walk?' he said. 
 
 ' Walk, yes,' exclaimed Nelly ; ' and one 
 can't stir without stupid old Max coming 
 borinor after us, botherino^ Miss Bedford to 
 death mth his drawling nonsense. She 
 hates him, and he will follow us about, 
 because he has grown so fond of his little 
 sisters. But, I say, Charley Yining, do give 
 me — no, not give, lend me sixpence to buy 
 some sweets. We spent every halfpenny, and 
 it isn't pocket-money till to-morrow night.' 
 
 ' I never give money to beggars at the 
 roadside,' laughed Charley, who seemed 
 somehow to be brightening up under his 
 young friend's revelations. 
 
 'Xow don't be a nuisance' lauo:hed 
 Nelly, ' or I'll tease you. I know why you 
 were looking down the lane so miserably; 
 it was because Max was along with — '
 
 198 BY BIRTH A LADY. 
 
 ' Hold your tongue, do, you saucy 
 puss !' roared Charley, with flaming face. 
 ' IIow dare you !' 
 
 ' There ! I knew I was right,' laughed 
 the girl. ' I'm not a bit afraid of you, 
 Charley Vining. But, I say, such a game : 
 there, hold your arms, and I could jump 
 down from here right on to the dear old 
 mare just before you, and you could hold 
 me tight, and we'd play at you being young 
 Lochinvar, and gallop off with me. Wouldn't 
 it be fun?' 
 
 ^ But there's no bridegroom to dandle 
 his bonnet and plume,' laughed Charley. 
 
 ' There's an ungallant cavalier !' said 
 Nelly, with her wicked eyes dancing with 
 glee. ' Now, if it had been Miss Bed — ^ha, 
 ha, ha!' she shrieked, as Charley made a 
 dash at her by forcing his mare half-way 
 up the bank. ' Don't you do that, Charley, 
 or you'll go down again, and have to be
 
 THE CLEARING OF A DOUBT. 199 
 
 carried on a gate — and I don't want you to 
 be hurt any more/ she said seriously. 'But 
 there, I must go back and save my poor 
 dear darling Miss Bedford from being bored 
 to death by old stupid. I'm glad I've seen 
 you, though ; it's done me ever so much 
 good. I say, Charley Yining, isn't Miss 
 Bedford nice ?' 
 
 ' I daresay she is ; but I know very 
 little of her,' said Charley coolly. 
 
 ' 0, there's a story !' exclaimed down- 
 right Nelly. 'I know you think ever so 
 much of her, or else you would not stoj^ 
 looking miserable after her. There, I've 
 done, and I won't tease you any more ; but 
 I do want to borrow sixpence. Old Max 
 wouldn't lend me one if I was starving. 
 Thank you ! 0, a shilling !' exclaimed 
 Nelly, actively catching the coin he threw. 
 ' Now I'm going ; but, I say, do come and see 
 us. You would like my Miss Bedford so !'
 
 200 
 
 BY BIRTH A LADY. 
 
 Before Charley Yining could answer, 
 Nelly had dashed off, taking a short cut, 
 and he saw her no more ; but from that 
 day Charley's sphits rose ; and when once 
 or twice more he encountered the walking 
 party, he did not feel so troubled of heart, 
 but rode gaily up, saluting all, taking the 
 first opportunity of frowning and shaking 
 his head at merry laughing Nelly.
 
 CHAPTER XIY. 
 
 A FAMILY PARTY. 
 
 ^ Surely, Miss Bedford, you never think of 
 going to Sir Philip Vining's party such a 
 figure as that !' 
 
 It was the day of the Blandfield Court 
 invitation, and the ladies were assembhng 
 in the dramng-room. For, some days be- 
 fore, in accordance with his promise. Sir 
 Philip had been over to the Ehiis, taking 
 Laura quite by surprise when he supple- 
 mented his invitation by a request that Miss 
 Bedford might also be of the party. 
 
 ' Miss Bedford — our governess !' stam- 
 mered Laura, completely taken aback. 
 
 But she was herself again the next in- 
 stant, as she saw throudi the arrano-ement.
 
 202 BY BIRTH A LADY. 
 
 'Sir Philip has been deceived/ she thought; 
 ' but I am not so easily put off, nor yet cast 
 off,' she muttered. 
 
 What should she do? Display open 
 anger, or temporise until Ella Bedford could 
 be dismissed — ignominiously dismissed — 
 from her situation ? 
 
 Laura Bray was angry, and therefore 
 she talked to herself in strong language, 
 and called things by unpleasant names. 
 But she must act in some way, she thought ; 
 it would never do for her to give up all for 
 which her ambitious nature thirsted. She 
 had set herself upon being Lady Yining, 
 and after a fashion she lov-ed Charley, who, 
 from being free and friendly, and on happy 
 laughing terms with her, seemed daily to 
 be growing more and more distant ; for 
 she was not deceived by his assumed socia- 
 bility. She herself had acted so as to try 
 and efface the past ; but there was still the
 
 A FAMILY PARTY. 203 
 
 recollection of the conservatory scene, and 
 though she tried to set it down as merely a 
 bit of flirtation — one that she ought to pass 
 over without notice — her heart would not 
 accept of the flattering unction ; for she 
 knew Charley Yining to be too sterling, 
 too generous a man to trifle with the feel- 
 ings of any woman. 
 
 Then why was he trifling with her ? 
 she exclaimed vehemently. Had she no 
 claims to his consideration ? There was a 
 dull heavy feeling came over her, as she 
 thought of how he had never been more 
 than friend to her, and that the warmth had 
 been entirely on one side. 
 
 But she felt that it would not do to 
 show her anger — kindness would perhaps 
 work a change ; and until her rival — no, 
 she would not dignify her with that title — 
 till this o:overness had o:one, she would 
 assume an appearance of sorrow, trying the
 
 204 BY EIRTH A LADY. 
 
 while to win Charley back from his passing 
 fancy. She could have bitten her tongue 
 for the ill-judged hasty words she had 
 spoken ; but 0, if she could but detect 
 this Miss Bedford in some light coquettish 
 act, some behaviour too frivolous for her 
 position, it should go hard with her ! — for at 
 the present — probably on account of the 
 dislike openly shown — Mrs. Bray and her 
 hopeful son seemed disposed to treat their 
 dependent with more consideration, which 
 was really the case on the part of the 
 former, whose mental constitution was such 
 that she could not conceive the possibility 
 of any one holding a paid position to per- 
 form certain duties possessing the sensitive- 
 ness and thoughts of a lady. 
 
 Laura had determined to temporise, and 
 also to counterplot. It struck her that Sir 
 Philip had been deceived, and hurriedly 
 rising, she left the room.
 
 A FAMILY PARTY. 205 
 
 It was evident to her sharpened percep- 
 tibilities that it was Charley's doing that 
 Miss Bedford was invited; and she deter- 
 mined Sir Philip Yining should see who was 
 the lady his son wished to be of the party. 
 
 Laura's heart beat quickly, as, with as- 
 sumed kindness and gentleness of mien, she 
 returned from the schoolroom with Ella, 
 and introduced her to Sir Phihp. 
 
 'I thought that Miss Bedford would 
 hke to thank you herself. Sir Phihp, for 
 your kind invitation,' she said, by way of 
 explanation of her sudden act; and then 
 she watched attentively the eiFect produced. 
 
 She was right. Sir Philip was startled, 
 and as he rose to cordially greet and repeat 
 his invitation, he gazed almost wonderingly 
 at the sweet mien and gentle face before 
 him, raising Ella's hand, and with all the 
 grace of an old courtier, kissing it respect- 
 fully, moved by the true homage he felt for
 
 206 BY BIRTH A LADY. 
 
 SO much youth and beauty. But as he re- 
 leased her hand, there was a troubled puz- 
 zled look in the old gentleman's face — a 
 look that was still there when at last he 
 took his leave to go thoughtfully home- 
 ward ; for now it again struck him that 
 Charley's impressive demand that the gov- 
 erness should be asked was a little strange, 
 though here was the key. 
 
 Sir Philip dismissed the thought that 
 oppressed him, though. Charley was too 
 noble to be moved by any disloyal acts ; 
 and as to stooping — pooh ! it was absurd ! 
 He was growing an old woman, full of ner- 
 vous fears and fancies ; and casting his 
 'whimsies,' as he called them, away, he 
 entered with all his heart into the prepara- 
 tions for the little fete. 
 
 And now the day had arrived, and the 
 ladies were assembling in the drawing-room, 
 where Mr. Bray and ' Mr. Maximilian' were
 
 A FAMILY PAETY. 207 
 
 already waiting. Mrs. Bray had sailed and 
 rustled into the room in a tremendously 
 stiff green brocade dress, to be compli- 
 mented by her lord as resembling a laurel 
 hedge, and by her son for her May-day 
 aspect and Jack-in-the-green look. But 
 Mrs. Bray was satisfied, and that was every- 
 thing. Her satisfaction was evident by the 
 way in which she swept round the room, 
 making a vortex that caught up the light 
 chairs and loose articles that came within 
 its reach. 
 
 ' Bai Jove, there, why don't you mind !' 
 exclaimed Max, as the glossy hat left upon 
 the couch was sent spinning across the 
 room. ' Why don't you sit down?' 
 
 Mrs. Bray did not reply, but she would 
 not have sat down in that dress, save in 
 the carriage, upon any consideration — at all 
 events, not until after it had been seen at 
 Blandfield.
 
 208 BY BIRTH A LADY. 
 
 Max's hat was made smooth sooner than 
 his temper, and he was still muttering and 
 grumbling when Nelly and her sisters came 
 bounding in, like three tall, thin, peripatetic 
 tulips, followed closely by Laura, glorious 
 with black hair, flashing eyes, amber moire, 
 and black lace. 
 
 Mr. Onesimus Bray placed his hands in 
 his pockets and walked smilingly round his 
 daughter, in whom he took immense pride ; 
 but the attempt that he made to kiss her 
 was received with a shriek of horror, his 
 daughter darting back beyond his reach, 
 and at the same time brino;ino^ forth an 
 oath from her brother's lips, as she swej^t 
 the glossy, newly - brushed hat from the 
 marqueterie table whereon it had been 
 placed for safety. 
 
 'For shame. Max !' exclaimed his mo- 
 ther. 
 
 ' Bai Jove, then, it's enough to make
 
 A FAMILY PARTY. 209 
 
 an angel swear ! How would you like a 
 fellow to tread on your bonnets?' 
 
 The ladies shuddered. 
 
 ' Xever mind, then — a poor old Max !' 
 exclaimed mischievous Xelly, who had but 
 a few minutes before been snubbed by her 
 brother ; and, stooping down, she picked up 
 the unfortunate hat, and, before she could 
 be arrested, carefully brushed all the nap 
 up the wrong way. Max sitting completely 
 astounded the while at the outrage put 
 upon him. 
 
 What he would have said remains to 
 this day unknown. His mouth had gasped 
 open after the fashion of an expiring aqua- 
 rium pet, and he was about to ejaculate, 
 when he stopped short; for Ella Bedford 
 came quietly into the room, the centre, as 
 it were, of a soft cloud of gray barege, 
 which gave to her pale gentle features 
 almost an ethereal expression, but which 
 
 YOi. I. r
 
 210 BY BIRTH A LADY. 
 
 called forth from the gorgeous amber 
 queen the remark standmg at the head of 
 this chapter: 
 
 ' Surely, Miss Bedford, you never think 
 of going to Sir Philip Yining's party such 
 a figure as that !' 
 
 Ella coloured up, and then said gently : 
 
 ' Shall I change the dress for a plain 
 muslin. Miss Bray?' 
 
 '0, I'm sure I don't know!' exclaimed 
 Laura, with a toss. ' I think — ' 
 
 'I think the dress looks uncommonly 
 nice. Miss Bedford — I do, bai Jove !' drawled 
 Max, fixing his glass in his eye, and staring 
 furiously. 
 
 It was the first act of kindness Max 
 Bray had done for many a long day ; but it 
 caused a shrinking sensation in her for 
 whom it was intended, while Laura darted 
 at her a fierce look of hatred, and tlien an 
 angry glance at her brother.
 
 A FAMILY PARTY. 211 
 
 Ella looked inquiringly at Mrs. Bray, as 
 if for instructions; but that lady always 
 sided with son Max, as did Mr. Bray, as 
 far as he dared, with his daughter. 
 
 ' I almost think — ' he ventured to ob- 
 serve. 
 
 ' Don't talk stuff, Xess !' shrieked his 
 lady. ' What do you know about a lady's 
 dress? If it was a fleece or a pig — There, 
 I think Miss Bedford's things will do very 
 nicely indeed; and if some people would 
 only dress as neatly, it wouldn't half ruin 
 their parents in dressmakers' bills.' 
 
 Laura did not condescend to answer, 
 but throwing herself into a chair, she took 
 up a book, pretending to read, but holding 
 it upside down, till Xelly laughingly called 
 attention to the fact. 
 
 ' Pert child !' exclaimed Laura fiercely. 
 
 ' Don't care !' laughed Nelly. ' So the 
 book teas upside down ; and I'd rather be a
 
 212 BY BIRTH A LADY. 
 
 pert child than a disagreeable, sour old 
 maid !' 
 
 ' You'd better send that rude tom-boy to 
 bed — you had, bai Jove !' drawled Max. 
 
 ' Ah ! — and I'd rather be a rude tomboy 
 than a great girl, bai Jove, Mr. Max!' 
 cried Nelly; whereupon Mr. Bray laughed, 
 Mrs. Bray scolded, and Nelly pretended to 
 cry, directing a comical look the while at 
 her father, who, whatever his weakness, 
 was passionately fond of his girls. 
 
 The crunching of the gravel by the 
 wheels of the wagonette put a stop to the 
 rather unpleasant scene, when, to Laura's 
 surprise. Max jumped up and handed Ella 
 down to the carriage, returning afterwards 
 for his sister, who favoured him with a pe- 
 culiarly meaning look ; one which he replied 
 to in as supercilious a manner as he could 
 assume. 
 
 ' What does it mean, Max ?' she whis-
 
 A FAMILY PARTY 
 
 pered, as they descended the stairs. ' More 
 affection for your little sisters?' 
 
 'My dear Laura,- drawled Max, ^ will 
 vou take mv advice and adopt a motto ?' 
 
 ' Motto?' said Laura inquiringly. 
 
 ' Ya-as, bai Jove ! the ver}' one for you 
 — just suited to the occasion: Laissez-aller. 
 Do you understand?' 
 
 Laura looked at him meaningl}', but 
 made no reply, for they had reached the 
 carriage.
 
 CHAPTER XY. 
 
 chaeley's fete. 
 
 In spite of her annoyance, Laura's eyes 
 sparkled when they reached the Court ; for 
 Sir Phihp hurried to the carriage, welcom- 
 ing the party most warmly, and, handing 
 her out, he led her himself to the beautiful 
 little kiosk, and then took her from place 
 to place, according to her attentions that 
 made more than one match-making mamma 
 with marriageable daughters look mean- 
 ingly at the same daughters, and then think 
 of Charley Yining with a sigh. 
 
 But if Laura was in high glee, so was 
 not Max, who had to stand by while Char- 
 ley carried off Ella Bedford, Nelly laugh- 
 ingly fastening upon his other arm.
 
 Charley's fete. 215 
 
 ' A rude coarse beast, bai Jove !' mut- 
 tered Max elegantly, as be tried vainly to 
 get tbe little button of his glove secured. 
 ' Let him have a fall again, and see if I'll 
 go to his help !' 
 
 ' I shall come with you if I may,' said 
 Nelly demurely. 
 
 'To be sure!' laughed Charley, whose 
 heart throbbed with pleasure as he felt — 
 nay, hardly felt — the light pressure of the 
 gray glove upon his arm. ' Miss Bedford 
 won't mind, I hope. Do you know, Miss 
 Bedford, I'm rather glad you are with us? 
 I'm almost afraid Nelly means some inroad 
 upon my purse.' 
 
 ' No, I don't,' said Nelly, ' so don't be 
 afraid ;' and then she walked very demurely 
 by their side, Charley encouraging her to 
 stay upon observing Ella's constraint and 
 troubled looks. 
 
 ' She'd be off like a frightened pigeon—
 
 216 BY BIRTH A LADY. 
 
 dove, I mean !' muttered Charley, as he 
 looked down at the almost painful face be- 
 side him. But a little quiet conversation 
 upon current topics seemed to set her more 
 at ease, and, after awhile, Hugh Lingon ap- 
 proaching, Charley Yining whispered, loudly 
 enough, though, for Nelly to hear : 
 
 ' Now I'm going. Miss Bedford, for here 
 comes Nelly's intended. I hope you will 
 play the chaperone most stringently.' 
 
 Nelly rewarded him with a sharp pinch 
 as he left them, Hugh Lingon taking his 
 place; and Ella, whose heart beat almost 
 painfully, asking herself the reason why. 
 
 But Charley Yining had laid his plans 
 that da}^, and he felt he must proceed with 
 caution. So hurrying himself, he acted the 
 part of host with admirable tact, picking 
 out the ladies who seemed neglected, form- 
 ing sets for croquet, handing refreshments, 
 or escorting little parties to the lake-like
 
 Charley's tete. 217 
 
 river for boating; distributing himself, as 
 
 it were, throughout the grounds, and at last 
 
 interrupting a tete-a-tete between Laura 
 
 and Huo-h Linofon. who had soon forsaken 
 
 the ladies left in his charo-e. 
 
 «_ 
 
 Laura commenced a little minauderie^ 
 professing to be unable to leave Mr. Lingon ; 
 but she gave up directly she saw Charley's 
 laugh, for she knew that it would be — nay, 
 was — seen through. She knew Charley 
 Yining to be different from most men of 
 her acquaintance ; and accepting his offer, 
 she o^ladlv took his arm, makino^ the match- 
 making mammas to whisper, as the hand- 
 some couple passed through the grounds, 
 ' There, didn't I tell you so ?' and then to 
 gossip about how the}- had had their sus- 
 picions concerning the purpose of the fete. 
 
 But Laura's pleasure was but short- 
 lived; for though Charley was pleasant, 
 gay, and chatty, he was nothing more, and
 
 218 BY BIRTH A LADY. 
 
 though he carefully avoided referring to 
 the croquet-party, she felt that he was not 
 as she could wish. 
 
 ' He'll go back to her as soon as, with 
 any decency, he can,' she thought ; and her 
 teeth were set, and her fingers clenched, 
 pressing the nails almost through her gloves, 
 as she forced back a sio^h. 
 
 But she soon cheered up, for she told 
 herself it was not for long, and determined 
 to try if gentleness would gain the day; 
 she listened to all her companion said, 
 striving the while, without being obtru- 
 sive, to obliterate her past words of anger. 
 
 Laura was wrong; for it was not for a 
 considerable time, and until he had played 
 cavalier to many a lady — winning the 
 thanks and smiles of Sir Philip, who was 
 delighted at his son's efforts — that he 
 sought once more Ella Bedford, followed 
 by Sir Philip's eyes; the old gentleman
 
 chaeley's tete. 219 
 
 gazing uneasily after him as he went up 
 and offered his arm, which was reluct- 
 antly taken. 
 
 *I'm going now,' said Xelly, who had 
 kept with her guard the whole time ; ' I 
 want something to eat. I declare, Charley 
 Yining, I've only had one thin slice of 
 butter spread with bread-crumbs, and a 
 cup of tea;' and before a word could be 
 said, she had darted off. 
 
 Sir Philip's were not the only eyes that 
 followed Charley Yining to where sat Ella 
 Bedford ; for as Max Bray followed him at 
 a distance, as if by accident Laura did the 
 same, and brother and sister gave genuine 
 starts as they encountered at the union of 
 two allevs. 
 
 ' Grows quite romantic, bai Jove !' 
 sneered Max ; but he relapsed into an un- 
 comfortable look on seeing the penetrating 
 o-aze directed at him by his sister.
 
 220 BY BIETH A LADY. 
 
 'Let me take your arm,' she said coldly; 
 and then, as the shades of evenmg were 
 fast falling, they walked slowly on together, 
 towards a part of the grounds now appa- 
 rently deserted. 
 
 Meanwhile Charley Yining had led Ella 
 across the lawn, pressing her to partake 
 of some refreshment, but in vain; and at 
 last, in spite of herself, she found that she 
 was alone with him, in a secluded part of 
 the grounds. 
 
 'There is a seat here,' said Charley. 
 ' Shall we rest for a few minutes ?' 
 
 ' It would hardly be advisable,' was the 
 quiet reply ; ' the evening is damp.' And 
 then for a few moments there was a pause, 
 as they still walked slowly on, Charley with 
 his heart beating heavily, and Ella eager 
 to return to the throng upon the lawn — a 
 throng that the afternoon through she had 
 avoided — and hardly liking to speak, lest
 
 Charley's fete. 221 
 
 she might betray her agitation, and that 
 she looked upon this otherwise than as an 
 ordinary attention of host to one of his 
 guests. 
 
 For EUa was not bhnd: her woman's 
 instinct had whispered to her respecting 
 the many attentions pressed upon her, and 
 she trembled as she recalled the night when 
 the cross was returned; for her heart told 
 her that such things must not be — that she 
 must be cold and cautious, o'uardino- and 
 steeling herself against tender emotions, for 
 she was but the poor paid governess, and 
 this man, whose arm she lightly touched, 
 was almost engaged to Laura Bray. 
 
 But the silence was broken at length 
 by Charley, who spoke deeply, as he stopped 
 short by a standard covered with pale white 
 roses, whose perfume seemed shed around 
 upon the soft night ah\ 
 
 'Miss Bedford,' he said, 'I have been
 
 ^^Z BY BIETH A LADY. 
 
 in pain, almost in agony, for many days 
 past; and till I found that I had been 
 wronging you, it seemed to me that life 
 was going to be unbearable.' 
 
 'Pain! — wronging me!' exclaimed Ella. 
 
 'Yes,' he said; 'but hear me out. I 
 am no polished speaker. Miss Bedford — 
 only a simple, blunt, and I hope honest and 
 truthful man. A week or two since I be- 
 lieved that you favoured the suit of Max 
 Bray : to-night I will not insult you with 
 questions, but tell you honestly I do not 
 believe that to be the case ; and when the 
 conviction flashed upon me that I was 
 wrong, I tell you frankly my heart leaped 
 with joy. You may ask why: I will tell 
 you.' 
 
 'Mr. Yining,' exclaimed Ella, 'this 
 must not be ; you forget yourself, your po- 
 sition — you forget me when you talk so. 
 Pray lead me back.'
 
 chaeley's fete. 223 
 
 ' You speak as if my words pained you, 
 Miss Bedford,' said Charley huskily. ' Pray 
 forgive me if they do. Xay, but a few 
 minutes longer.* 
 
 He cauo'ht one hand in his, and as she 
 glanced for an instant in his direction, the 
 rising moon gleaming through the trees lit 
 up his handsome earnest face, photograph- 
 ing it. as it were, upon her brain; for to 
 her dying day she never forgot that look — 
 that countenance so imploringly turned 
 upon her. 
 
 ' Miss Bedford — Ella,' he whispered, ' I 
 love you tenderly and devotedly ! This is 
 no light declaration : till I saw you, woman 
 never occupied my thoughts. You see by 
 my brusque ways, my bluntness, that I have 
 been no dallier in drawing-rooms, no holder 
 of lady's silk. Till now, my loves have 
 been in the stables, kennels, fields. Blunt 
 language this — uncomplimentary perhaps;
 
 224 BY BIRTH A LADY. 
 
 but I am no courtier. I speak as I feel, 
 and I tell you that to win your love in re- 
 turn would be to make me a bappy man.' 
 
 ' Mr. Vining,' exclaimed Ella, vainly 
 trying to release ber band, ' lead me back, 
 pray!' 
 
 ' Nay,' said Cbarley, witb sadness in bis 
 tones, ' I will not force you to listen to 
 me ;' and be released ber band. ' I was 
 bopeful tbat you would bave listened to 
 my suit.' 
 
 ' Indeed — indeed,' said Ella, ' I cannot, 
 Mr. Yinino; : it can never be. You foro^et 
 — position — me !' 
 
 Sbe could say no more — ber words 
 seemed to stifle ber ; and bad sbe continued 
 speaking, sbe felt tbat sbe would bave burst 
 into tears. 
 
 ' I forget notbing,' said Cbarley, almost 
 sternly. ' How can I forget ? How can I 
 ever forget? But surely,' be said, once
 
 chakley's pete. 225 
 
 more catching her hand in his — ' surely you 
 cannot with that sweet gentle face be cruel, 
 and love to torture one who has spoken 
 simply the truth — laid bare to you his feel- 
 ings ! You believe what I say ?' 
 
 'Yes, yes!' almost sobbed Ella.. 'But 
 indeed — indeed it can never be. Do not 
 think me either harsh or cruel, for I mean 
 it not.' 
 
 • What am I to think then ?' said Char- 
 ley bitterly. ' Is it that you reject me 
 utterly, or am I so poor a wooer that you 
 would have me on my knees, protesting, 
 swearing? Xo; I wrong you again: it is 
 not that,' he exclaimed passionately. ' Look 
 here, Ella' — he plucked one of the white 
 roses, tearing his hand as he did so, the 
 blood appearing in a long mark across the 
 back — ' emblematic,' he said, smiling sadly, 
 ' of my love. You see it has its smarts and 
 pains. You refused me so slight a gift once, 
 
 VOL. I. Q
 
 226 BY BIRTH A LADY. 
 
 but take this; and though I am a man I 
 can freely say that my love for you is as 
 pure and spotless as that simple flower. 
 You will not refuse that ?' 
 
 He could see the tears in her eyes, and 
 that her face was drawn as if with pain ; 
 but one trembling hand was extended to 
 take the flower; then, before he could re- 
 cover from his surprise, she had turned from 
 him and fled; when, with almost a groan, 
 he threw himself upon the garden-seat, re- 
 maining motionless for a few moments, and 
 then rising to hurry back to the marquee.
 
 CHAPTER XYI. 
 
 THE ECHOES OF CHARLEY S DECLARATION. 
 
 Two minutes had scarcely elapsed before 
 there was the faint rustling of a lady's dress 
 and the creaking of a boot, and then two 
 pale faces — those of brother and sister — 
 appeared from a neighbouring clump of 
 evergreens, gazed cautiously about for a 
 few moments, and then moved away in an- 
 other direction; the moon just beginning 
 to cast their shadows upon the dewy lawn 
 upon whose turf they walked, perhaps be- 
 cause it hushed their footsteps. 
 
 They had hardly disappeared before 
 there was another faint rustling, and^ 
 eagerly peering about, Xelly Bray appeared, 
 her girlish face looking half merry, half 
 anxious, in the moonlit orlade.
 
 228 BY BIRTH A LADY. 
 
 ' A nasty, disagreeable, foxy pair of old 
 sneaks!' she exclaimed — 'to go peeping 
 and watching about like that, and all be- 
 cause they were as jealous as — as jealous as 
 — well, there, I don't know what. I know I 
 was watching too, but I wouldn't have done 
 so for a moment, if it hadn't been to see 
 what they were going to do. I wouldn't 
 have been so mean and contemptible — that 
 I wouldn't! But 0, wasn't it grand!' she 
 exclaimed, clasping her hands. ' Ah, don't 
 I wish I was like Miss Bedford, to have 
 such a nice boy as Charley Yining to fall 
 in love with me and tell me of it, and then 
 for me to reject him like that ! I don't 
 believe she meant it, though, that I don't. 
 She couldn't ! Nobody could resist Charley 
 Yining : he's ever so much nicer than Hugh 
 Lingon, and I'd run away with him to- 
 morrow, if he asked me^ — see if I wouldn't ! 
 But there ain't no fear of that. I knew he
 
 99( 
 
 was in love with her — I was sure of it. And 
 didn't he speak nicely ! Just as if he felt 
 every word he said, and meant it all — and 
 he does, too, I know; for he's a regular 
 trump, Charley is, and I shall say so again, 
 as there's no one to hear me — he's a regular 
 trump, that he is ; and I don't care what 
 any one says. Wouldn't it be nice to be 
 Miss Bedford's bridesmaid ! I should wear 
 — Here's somebody coming !' 
 
 Xelly darted off, reaching the door just 
 as leavetakings were in vogue ; Sir Philip 
 and Charley handing the Bray family to the 
 waiting carriages ; but in spite of their ef- 
 forts, there was an appearance of constraint 
 visible. 
 
 ' Why, here's the little rover !' exclaimed 
 Charley, as Nelly appeared. ' Where have 
 you been?' 
 
 ' Looking after and helping my friends, 
 as a rover should, Mr. Croquet-player !' ex-
 
 230 BY BIRTH A LADY. 
 
 claimed Nelly pertly, as she looked Charley 
 full in the face ; while, as he was helping 
 her on with a shawl, she found means to 
 make him start by saying : 
 
 ' Look out ! Max and Laura were lis- 
 tening !' 
 
 The next moment the carriage had 
 driven off, leaving Charley standing motion- 
 less, and thinking of the pale-faced girl 
 who had leaned so lightly upon his arm as 
 he handed her to the carriage, and wonder- 
 ing what would follow. 
 
 'Charley, my dear boy, the Miss Lin- 
 gons !' 
 
 So spoke Sir Philip, rousing the young 
 man from his abstraction, when he hastened 
 to make up for his want of courtesy as guest 
 after guest departed, till the last carriage 
 had ground the gravel of the drive, for the 
 fete was at an end. But as Sir Philip sat 
 alone in his library, thoughtful and fatigued,
 
 ECHOES OF chaeley's DECLAEATION". 231 
 
 it seemed to him that the affair had not 
 been so successful as he could have wished ; 
 and that night — ay, and for many nights to 
 come — he was haunted by a vision of a fair- 
 haired girl, with soft gray eyes which 
 seemed to ask the protection of all on 
 whom they rested; and somehow Sir Philip 
 Yining sighed, for he felt troubled, and 
 that matters were not gomg as he had in- 
 tended. 
 
 Meanwhile the Brays' wagonette rolled 
 on till it reached the Elms. Hardly a 
 word had been spoken on the return jour- 
 ney ; for Mr. Bray was hungry, Mrs. Bray 
 cross, and Max and his sister thoughtful, 
 as was Ella Bedford. Xelly had spoken 
 twice, but only to be snubbed into silence ; 
 and it was with a feeling of relief shared 
 by all, that they descended and entered 
 the house. 
 
 Mrs. Bray and her lord directly took
 
 ZOJ BY BirtTII A LADY. 
 
 chamber candlesticks, Mr. Bray whispering 
 something to| the butler respecting a tray 
 and dressing-room. Ella hurried away 
 with her charges, while Max opened the 
 draAving-room door and motioned to his 
 sister to enter ; but she took no heed of his 
 sign, as, with angry glances, she followed 
 Ella till she had disappeared. 
 
 ' Come here,' said Max. ' I want you.' 
 
 ' I'm tired,' said Laura. ' You must 
 keep it till the morning.' 
 
 ' I tell you I want you now !' he ex- 
 claimed almost sa^vagely, the man's real 
 nature flashing out as he cast the thin veil 
 of society habit aside, and spoke eagerly. 
 
 'Then I shall not come,' said Laura, 
 turning away. 
 
 ' If you dare to say a word about all 
 this, I'll never forgive you !' he whispered. 
 
 ' I can live without Mr. Max Bray's for- 
 giveness/ said Laura tauntingly.
 
 ECHOES OF Charley's declaeatiox. 233 
 
 'Confound you, come down I' lie ex- 
 claimed, as Laura ascended the stairs. ' I 
 will not have her spoken to about it unless 
 I speak.' 
 
 ' Good-night, Max,' was the cool reply ; 
 and he saw her pass through the swing 
 door at the end of Mr. Bray's picture-gal- 
 lery ; while foaming and apparently enraged, 
 he made a bound up a few stairs, but only 
 to descend again, enter the drawing-room, 
 and close the door. 
 
 The door had hardly closed before 
 Laura appeared again, without a chamber 
 candlestick, to lean over the balustrade 
 eager and listening as she peered down into 
 the hall. But there was not a sound to be 
 heard ; and hurrying back along the gallery, 
 she stopped at Ella's door, and then, with- 
 out knocking, turned the handle and en- 
 tered.
 
 CHAPTER Xyil. 
 
 A VIAL OF WEATH. 
 
 ' And, P^ay? wliat are you doing here ?' 
 exclaimed Laura Bray, as she saw the 
 tall slim form of her sister Nelly stand- 
 ing between her and the object of her dis- 
 like. 
 
 ' Talking to Miss Bedford, if you must 
 know, my dear sister,' said Nelly pertly; 
 but the next moment she encountered a 
 glance from Ella, in obedience to which she 
 was instantly silent ; and, crossing over, she 
 kissed the pale girl lovingly, and said, 
 ' Good-night.' 
 
 But all this was not lost ujDon Laura, 
 who bit her lips till Nelly had half hesitat- 
 ingly quitted the room.
 
 A YIAL OF WEATII. 235 
 
 ' What s^Yeet obedience I' she then said 
 sarcastically. ^Eeally, Miss Bedford, you 
 must give me some lessons in the art of 
 winning people's affections. I have no 
 doubt that papa will satisfy you if there 
 is any extra charge.' 
 
 Ella did not speak ; but her gentle look 
 might have disarmed animosity, as she 
 turned her soft eyes almost appealingly to- 
 wards her irate visitor. She was in some 
 degree, though, prepared for what was 
 coming, for Xelly had lingered behind to 
 place her on her guard; and as she stood 
 facino; Laura she did not shrink, neither 
 did she make answer to the taunts conveyed 
 in those bitter words. 
 
 ' I trust that you have enjoyed a plea- 
 sant evening, Miss Bedford,' continued 
 Laura, who seemed to be working herself 
 up, and gathering together the battalions 
 of her wrath, ready for the storm she meant
 
 236 BY BIETH A LADY. 
 
 to thunder upon the defenceless head be- 
 fore her. But still there was no reply in 
 words — nothing but the calm pleading gaze 
 from the soft gray eyes. 
 
 ' Can we make arrangements for you to 
 be introduced to some other family, where 
 you can carry on your intrigues ?' 
 
 Still no answer — only a pitiful, almost 
 imploring look that ought to have dis- 
 armed the most wrathful. But at this mo- 
 ment Ella involuntarily raised a white rose, 
 which till then had remained concealed, as 
 her hand hung down amidst the soft folds 
 of her dress ; and no sooner did Laura catch 
 sight of the blossom than, interpreting the 
 act to be one of insolent triumph, she threw 
 herself uj^on the shrinking girl, tore the 
 flower from her hand, and flung it upon the 
 floor, where she crushed it beneath her foot 
 as she stamped upon it furiously. 
 
 'How dare you!' she almost shrieked,
 
 A yiAL OF WPwATH. 237 
 
 in tones that bade fair some day to rival 
 those of Mamma Bray. ' Such cowardly — 
 such insolent acts! To dare to insult me 
 after practising your low cunning to-day, 
 laying your snares for my poor unworldly 
 brother, and then setting other traps — to — 
 to — inveigle — to entrap — There, don't look 
 at me with that triumphant leer ! You shall 
 be turned out of this house, into which you 
 have gained entrance by false pretences, so as 
 to act the part of a scheming adventuress !' 
 For a few moments Laura seemed as if 
 she would strike the object of her resent- 
 ment, so fierce was the burst of passion that 
 came pouring forth — the unlucky act hav- 
 ing roused every bitter and angry feeling 
 in her breast : disappointed love, ambition, 
 hatred — all were mingled into a poison that 
 was like venom to her barbed and stinoino- 
 words, as she stooped even to abusing the 
 innocent cause of her dislike.
 
 238 BY EIRTII A LADY. 
 
 At length Ella raised her hands, and 
 spoke deprecatingly ; but each appeal only 
 seemed to rouse Laura to fresh outbursts 
 of violence, so that at last the bitter taunts 
 and revilings Avere suffered in silence, the 
 angry woman's voice rising louder with her 
 victim's patience, till, alarmed by her daugh- 
 ter's angry, hysterical cries, Mrs. Bray hur- 
 ried into the room. 
 
 ' What is the meaning of all this ?' she 
 shrieked. 'Laura! — Miss Bedford! Are 
 you both mad?' 
 
 Ella was about to speak, but Laura 
 fiercely interrupted her. 
 
 ' Speak a word if you dare !' she said. 
 ' I will not have anything said ! Such in- 
 solence is insupportable.' 
 
 ' But what has Miss Bedford been do- 
 ing?' shrieked Mrs. Bray. 'You are alarm- 
 in o- the whole house. What does it mean?' 
 
 'Nothing. Let it rest,' cried Laura,
 
 A YIAL OF -WRATH. 239 
 
 cooling down rapidly, but with face a- 
 flame ; for she could not bear her mother 
 to be a witness to her humiliation, there 
 beino' based on Laura's slis^ht exao^s^erations 
 of one or two attentions, a full belief in 
 the Bray family that even if the question 
 had not been put by Charley Yining, mat- 
 ters had so far progressed that he was sure 
 to be her husband : hence her objection to 
 a word beino^ uttered ; and, shrinkino: back, 
 Ella stood with bended head, while a pass- 
 age of arms took place between mother and 
 daughter, Mrs. Bray's curiosity increasing 
 with Laura's reticence. 
 
 Finding though, at last, that nothing- 
 was to be gained, Mrs. Bray followed Laura 
 from the room; and Ella, trembling with 
 excitement and the agitation of many pain- 
 ful hours, was about to welcome the soli- 
 tude hers at last, when once more the door 
 opened, and, pale and wild-looking, so that
 
 240 EY BIETH A LADY. 
 
 she felt to pity her, Laura again appeared, 
 closing the door carefully behind her, and 
 then standing to gaze thoughtfully in Ella's 
 face. 
 
 She had come to threaten — to try and 
 enforce silence ; but her voice was husky ; 
 the fierce passion which had before sus- 
 tained her had now passed away, and the 
 weak woman, cut to the heart by disap- 
 pointment, was once more asserting her- 
 self. 
 
 For quite ^ye minutes she stood with 
 heaving breast, trying to speak, but the 
 words would not come ; and at last, dread- 
 ing to let the woman she hated and de- 
 spised, one whom she looked upon as full 
 of deceit and guile, gaze upon and triumph 
 in her tears, Laura turned and fled from 
 the room; and once more Ella was alone.
 
 CHAPTER XYIII. 
 
 ANALYSIS OF THE HEAET. 
 
 Alone — alone once more in her bedroom, 
 the scene of so many bitter tears, Ella stood 
 with flushed cheeks, and eyes that seemed 
 to burn, thinking of the words that had 
 been uttered to her that day. She held the 
 crushed rose in her hand — the flower Laura 
 had mth cruel hand snatched away and 
 cast down, and upon which she had trampled 
 with as little remorse as upon her feelings. 
 But the agitated girl had once more secured 
 the torn blossom, to stand gazing down 
 upon its bruised petals. 
 
 What did he say? That he loved her 
 — her whom he had seen so few times ! He 
 loved her : he, the heir to a baronetcy, loved 
 
 VOL. I. E
 
 242 BY BIETH A LADY. 
 
 her — a poor governess, tlie persecuted, de- 
 spised dependent of this family — that his 
 love for her was as pure as that white blos- 
 som! It could not be. And yet he had 
 S23oken so earnestly ; his voice trembled, 
 and those low soft utterances so tenderly, 
 so feelingly whispered, so full of appeal and 
 reverence, were evidently genuine. They 
 were not the words of the thoughtless, the 
 lovers of conquest, the distributors of vain 
 compliments, empty nothings, to every wo- 
 man who was the toy of the hour. And he 
 was no weak boy, ready to be led away by 
 a fresh face — no empty-headed coxcomb, 
 but a man of sterling worth. 
 
 There was a plain, straightforward, 
 manly simplicity in what he had said that 
 went home to her heart; there was a no- 
 bility in his disappointment and anger 
 whicii made her thrill with the awakening 
 of new thoughts, new senses^ that had be-
 
 iJN'ALYSIS OF THE HEAET. 243 
 
 fore lain dormant in her breast ; there was 
 the sterlinof rins; of the true orentleman in 
 his every act and look and word, and — 
 Ah, but — no — no — no! She was mad to 
 harbour such thoughts, even for an instant ; 
 it was folly— all folly. How could she ac- 
 cept him, even if her heart leaned that way ? 
 It would be doing him a grievous Avrong, 
 bhghting his prospects, tying him down to 
 one unworthy of his regard. She could not 
 — she did not love him. Love! What 
 was it to love? She had loved those who 
 were no more ; but love him, a stranger ! 
 What was it to love? 
 
 Beat, beat! — beat, beat! — beat, beat! 
 Heavy throbbings of her poor wounded 
 heart answering the question she had asked, 
 plainly, and in a way that would not be 
 ignored, even though she pressed that 
 flower-burdened hand tightly over the place, 
 and laid the other upon her hot and tin-
 
 244 BY EIRTH A LADY. 
 
 gling cheeks. But even if she knew it, 
 could she own to it ? No ! impossible ; 
 not even to herself. That was a secret she 
 could not ponder on, even for an instant. 
 
 And yet he had said that he loved her ! 
 What were his words? She must recall 
 them once more : that his love for her was 
 as truthful and as pure as that flower — 
 that poor crushed rose. 
 
 As she thought on, flushed and trem- 
 bling, she raised the flower nearer and 
 nearer to her face, gazing at the bruised 
 petals, crushed, torn, and disfigured. It 
 was to her as the reading of a prophecy 
 — that his pure love for her was to become 
 torn and sullied, and that, for her sake, he 
 was to sufler bitter anguish, till, like that 
 flower, his love should wither away. But 
 there would still be the recollection of the 
 sweet words, even as there stayed in the 
 crushed blossom its own sweet j^erfume.
 
 ANALYSIS OF THE HEAET. 245 
 
 the incense-breathing fragrance, as she raised 
 it more and more till the hot tears beo^an 
 to faU. 
 
 Xo, she did not love him — she could 
 not love him: it was folly — all a dream 
 from which she was awaking; for she knew 
 the end — she knew her days at the Elms 
 must be but few — that, like a discarded 
 servant, she must go : whither she knew 
 not, only that it must be far away — some- 
 where to dream no more, neither to be per- 
 secuted for what she could not help. 
 
 Xo ; she did not love him, and he would 
 soon forget her. It could be but a passing 
 fancy. But she esteemed him — she must 
 own to a deep feeling of esteem for one of 
 so noble, frank, and generous a nature. 
 Had he not always been kind and gentle 
 and sympathising — displaying his liking for 
 her with a gentlemanly respect that had 
 won upon her more and more? Yes, she
 
 246 BY BIRTH A LADY. 
 
 esteemed him too well, she was too grate- 
 ful, to injure him ever so slightly; and her 
 greatest act of kindness would be to hurry 
 away. 
 
 The fragrance from the poor crushed 
 flower still rose, breathing, as it were, such 
 love and sweetness ; recalling, too, the words 
 with which it was given so vividly, that, be- 
 trayed beyond her strength to control the 
 act, for one brief instant Ella's lips were 
 pressed softly, lovingly, upon the flower — 
 petals kissing petals — the bright bee-stung 
 and ruddy touching the pale and crushed; 
 and then, firmly and slowly, though each 
 act seemed to send a pang through her 
 throbbing heart, Ella plucked the rose in 
 pieces, telling herself that she was tearing 
 forth the mad passion as she went on show- 
 ering down the creamy leaflets, raining 
 upon them her tears the while, till the bare 
 stalk alone remained in her hands — her
 
 ANALYSIS OF THE HEAET. 247 
 
 cruel hands ; for had she not been tearing 
 and rending her own poor breast as every 
 petal was plucked from its hold? For what 
 availed the deceit? The time had been 
 short — they had met but seldom: but 
 what of that? The secret would burst forth, 
 would assert itself; and she knew that she 
 loved him dearly — loved him so that she 
 would give her life for his sake ; and that 
 to have been his slave— to have been but 
 near him — to listen to his voice — to see his 
 broad white forehead, his sun-tinged cheeks, 
 and clustering broT\m hair ; not to be called 
 his, but only to be near him — would be life 
 to her; while to go far — far — far away, 
 where she might never see him more, would 
 be, as it were, tottering even into her grave. 
 ^o ; there was no one looking : it was 
 close upon midnight, but she glanced guiltily 
 round, as with burning cheeks she sank 
 upon her knees, whispering to that wild
 
 248 BY BIETH A LADY. 
 
 beating heart that it could not be wrong. 
 And then she began to slowly gather those 
 petals, taking them up softly one by one, 
 to treasure somewhere — to gaze upon, per- 
 haps, sometimes in secret; for was it not 
 his gift that she had cast down as if it had 
 been naught? She might surely treasure 
 them up to keep in remembrance of what 
 might have been, had hers been a hapj)ier 
 lot. 
 
 Then came once more the thoughts of 
 the past evening, and more than ever she 
 felt that she must go. She would see him 
 no more, and he would soon forget it all. 
 But would she forget? A sob was the ans- 
 wer — a wild hysterical sob — as she felt 
 that she could not. 
 
 One by one, one by one, she gathered 
 those leaflets up to kiss them once again; 
 and that night, flush-cheeked and fevered, 
 she slept with the fragments of the bios-
 
 A^^ALYSIS OF THE HEART. 249 
 
 som pressed tightly to her aching breast, 
 till calm came with the earliest dawn, and 
 mth the lightening sky dreams of hope and 
 love and happiness to come, with brighter 
 days and loving friends, and all joyous and 
 blissful. She was walkino- where white- 
 rose petals showered down to carpet the 
 earth; the air was sweet with their fra- 
 grance, and she was leaning upon his stout 
 arm as he whispered to her of a love truth- 
 ful and pure as the flowers around; and 
 then she awoke to the bare chill of her own 
 stiffly-papered, poorly-furnished room, as 
 seen in the gray dawn of a pouring wet 
 morning, with the wind howling dismally 
 in the great old-fashioned chimney, the rain 
 pattering loudly against the window-panes, 
 and hanging in great trembling beads from 
 the sash. It was a fit morning, on the 
 whole, to raise the spirits of one who was 
 dejected, spiritless, almost heart-broken ;
 
 250 BY BTETII A LADY. 
 
 find it was no wonder that Ella Bedford's 
 head sank once more upon the pillow, which 
 soon became wet with her bitter tears. 
 
 For how could she meet the different 
 members of that family ? She felt as if she 
 was guilty; and yet what had she done? 
 It was not of her seeking. She could have 
 wept again and again in the despair and 
 bitterness of her heart ; but her eyes were 
 dried noAV, and she began to ponder over 
 the scenes of the past night. 
 
 She rose at last to go down to the 
 schoolroom, for it Avas fast approaching 
 eight, and as she descended, her mind was 
 made up as to her future proceedings. 
 She would go carefully on with her duties ; 
 but in the course of the morning, if not 
 sent for sooner, she would herself seek Mrs. 
 Bray, and ask to be set at liberty, so that 
 she might elsewhere seek a home — one that 
 should afford her rest and peace.
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 THE MAEIXG OF A COMPACT. 
 
 Breakfast over at the Elms, and no im- 
 provement in the weather. Maximilian 
 Bray said that it was impossible to go out, 
 ^ bai Jove !' so he was seated in a low 
 hergere chair in the drawing-room. He 
 had taken a book from a side table as if 
 with the intention of reading; but it had 
 fallen upon the floor, Max Bray not being 
 at the best of times a reading man; and 
 now he was busy at work plotting and 
 planning with a devotion worthy of a bet- 
 ter cause. His head was imparting some 
 of its ambrosia to the light chintz chair- 
 cover, for he had impatiently thrown the 
 antimacassar under the table. Then he
 
 252 BY EIRTH A LADY. 
 
 fidgeted about a little, altered the sit of his 
 collar and wristbands, and at last, as if not 
 satisfied with his position, he removed his 
 chair farther into the bay, so that the light 
 drapery of the flowing curtains concealed 
 his noble form from the view of any one 
 entering the room, when, apparently satis- 
 fied, he gazed thoughtfully through the 
 panes at the soaked landscape. 
 
 Max Bray had not been long settled to 
 his satisfaction when Laura entered, shut- 
 ting the door with a force that whispered — 
 nay, shouted — of a temper soured by some 
 recent disappointment. She gave a sharp 
 glance round the room, and then, seeing 
 no one, threw herself into a chair, a sob 
 at the same moment bursting from her 
 breast. 
 
 ^She shall go — that she shall!' ex- 
 claimed Laura suddenly, as she gave utter- 
 ance to her thoughts. ' Such deceit !— such
 
 THE :mae:ixg of a co:3j:pact. 253 
 
 quiet carneying ways ! But there shall be 
 no more of it : she shall go !' 
 
 Laura Bray ceased speaking ; and, start- 
 iag up, she began to pace the room, but 
 only to stop short on seeing her brother 
 gazing at her with a half-mocking, half- 
 amused expression of countenance from be- 
 hind the curtain. 
 
 ' You here. Max !' she exclaimed, colour- 
 ing hotly. 
 
 ' Bai Jove, ya-a-as !' he drawled. ' But, 
 I say, isn't it a bad plan to go about the 
 house shouting so that every one can hear 
 your bewailings, because a horsey cad of a 
 fellow gives roses to one lady and thorns 
 to another?' 
 
 '^\Tiat do you mean, Max?' said Laura. 
 
 'What do I mean! Well, that's cool, 
 bai Jove ! 0, of course nothing about 
 meetings by moonhght alone, and roses 
 and vows, and that sort of spooneyism!
 
 254 BY BIRTH A LADY. 
 
 But didn't you come tearing and raving in 
 here, saying ttiat she should go, and that 
 you wouldn't stand it, and swore — ' 
 
 ' 0, Max !' cried Lain-a passionately. 
 
 'Bai Jove! why don't you let a fellow 
 finish ?' drawled Max. ' Swore, I said — 
 swore like a cat just going to scratch ; and 
 I suppose that you would like to scratch, 
 eh?' 
 
 ' But, Max, did you really hear what I 
 said?' cried Laura. 
 
 ' Hear ? Bai Jove ! of course I did — 
 every word. Couldn't help it. Good job 
 it was only me.' 
 
 ' How could you be so unmanly as to 
 listen !' cried Laura. 
 
 ' Listen ? Bai Jove, how you do talk ! 
 I didn't listen ; you came and raved it all 
 at me. And so she shall go, shall she ?' 
 
 'Yes!' exclaimed Laura, firing up, and 
 speaking viciously, 'that she shall — a de-
 
 THE ^AKIXG OF A CO:\rPACT. 255 
 
 ceitful creature ! I see through all her 
 plots and plans, and I'll — ' 
 
 ' Tear her eyes out, won't you, my dear, 
 ehy Xow just look here, Laury : you think 
 me slow, and all that sort of fun, and that 
 I don't see thmgs ; but I'm not blind. So 
 the big boy has kicked off his allegiance, 
 has he ? and run mad after the little gov- 
 erness, has he? and the big sister is very 
 angry and jealous !' 
 
 'Jealous, indeed!' cried Laura — 'and of 
 a creature hke that !' 
 
 ' All right ; only don't interrupt,' said 
 Max mockingly. ' Jealous, I said, and won't 
 put up with it, and quite right too ! But, 
 all the same, I'm not going to have her 
 sent away.' 
 
 ' And why not, pray?' cried Laura with 
 flashing eyes. 
 
 'Because I don't choose that she shall 
 go,' said Max coolly.
 
 266 BY BIRTH A LADY. 
 
 Laura started, and then in silence bro- 
 ther and sister sat for a few moments gaz- 
 ing in each other's eyes, a flood of thought 
 sweeping the while across the brain of the 
 latter as she recalled a score of little things 
 till then unnoticed, or merely attributed to 
 a natural desire to flirt ; but, with the key 
 supplied by Max Bray's last words, Laura 
 felt that she could read him with ease, and 
 her brow contracted as she tried to make 
 him shrink ; but that did not lie in her 
 power. 
 
 'Max!' she exclaimed at last, 'I'm 
 ashamed of you ! It's mean, and contemp- 
 tible, and base, and grovelling! I'm dis- 
 gusted ! Why, you'll be turning your eyes 
 next to the servants' hall !' 
 
 ' Thank you, my dear !' drawled Max. 
 ' Very high-flown and grand ! But I shall 
 be content at present with the schoolroom. 
 And now suppose I say I'm ashamed of
 
 THE MAKING OF A COMPACT. 257 
 
 you ; and, bai Jove, I am ! A girl of your 
 style and pretensions, instead of winking at 
 what you've seen, or coming to your bro- 
 ther for counsel, to go howling about the 
 house — ' 
 
 ' Max !' half shrieked Laura. 
 
 'I don't care — bai Jove, I don't!' he 
 exclaimed. ' So you do go howling about 
 the house like a forlorn shepherdess, bai 
 Jove, so that every one can see what a fool 
 you are making of yourself!' 
 
 ' And pray what would my noble bro- 
 ther's advice be?' cried Laura sarcastically. 
 
 Max Bray was another man for an in- 
 stant, as, starting up in his chair, he caught 
 his sister by the arm, drawing her towards 
 him until she sank down in a sitting posi- 
 tion upon the ottoman at his feet, when, 
 with the drawlmg manner and affectation 
 o:one, he leaned over her, talkino; in a low 
 earnest voice, and so impressively, that 
 
 VOL. I. s
 
 258 BY BIRTH A LADY. 
 
 Laura's mocking smile gave place to a look 
 of intense interest. She drew nearer to 
 him at length, as he still talked on eagerly ; 
 then she clasped her hands together, and 
 rested them upon his knees. 
 
 'But no!' she exclaimed, suddenly start- 
 ing as it were from something which seemed 
 to enthral her, ' I will not be a party to it. 
 Max!' 
 
 'Very good, my dear,' he said cava- 
 lierly; 'then you shall have the pleasure 
 of watching progress, and seeing yourself 
 thrust out, if you please. Bai Jove, though, 
 Laury, I did think you were a girl of more 
 spirit ! Seems really, though, a good deal 
 smitten, does Charley.' 
 
 Laura's countenance changed, and her 
 teeth were set together. 
 
 'I shall let him go on, then, for my 
 part, if you choose it to be so.' 
 
 ' I choose !' cried Laura, with the tears
 
 THE JVIAKIXa OF A COMPACT. 259 
 
 in her eyes. ' 0, Max, why do you torture 
 me.-' 
 
 ' Then look here !' said Max. 
 
 And once more he leaned over towards 
 her, assuming a quiet ease, but at the same 
 time it was plain to see that he was greatly 
 excited. He talked on and on impressively, 
 with the effect of making Laura's lips part 
 and her eyes to ghsten with a strange light. 
 Then a pallor overspread her countenance, 
 but only to be swept away by a look of 
 exultation as Max still talked on. 
 
 ' But it is impossible. Max!' cried Laura, 
 at length. 
 
 ' Perhaps you'll leave me to judge about 
 that, and think only of your oAvn part!' he 
 said coolly. ' Is my advice — are my offers 
 — worth accepting ?' 
 
 ^0 yes, Max, yes!' cried Laura ex- 
 citedly ; ' I'd do anything !' 
 
 * I don't want you to do anything,' said
 
 260 BY BIRTH A LADY. 
 
 Max, smiling with triumph; 'only what 
 I advise. Help me, and I will help you 
 with all my heart. But I always knew that 
 you would. You say that you don't like 
 my choice. Well and good ; I might say 
 that I don^t like yours. Perhaps my affair 
 will come to nothing ; but, anyhow, you 
 are the gainer. I won't say anything about 
 hating, but let you have your selection. Now 
 let me have mine. But if you have anything 
 better to propose, I am ready to listen.' 
 
 ^But I have no plans. Max. I only 
 thought of her being sent away ; I'm half 
 broken-hearted and worn-out with disap- 
 pointment !' 
 
 ' Yes, just so. I expected as much, and 
 I was waiting here to see you,' said Max. 
 ' I'm not blind, Laury, nor deaf either. I 
 heard you two shouting across the hall. 
 So you've been telling the old lady that 
 some one shall go, have you?'
 
 THE MAKING OF A COMPACT. 261 
 
 'Yes, I have!' exclaimed Laura, ignor- 
 ing the past conversation; 'and she shall 
 go too ! Mamma did promise me.' 
 
 ' Ya-a-as, I know,' said Max, relapsing 
 into his drawl; 'but that was before she 
 promised me. The second will counts be- 
 fore the first made. But, as I said before, 
 and we understand now, she's not going — 
 so there's an end of it.' 
 
 ' 0, of course I' cried Laura passionately. 
 ' Everything must be as mamma's dear boy 
 wishes ! He shall have everything he likes, 
 and do as he likes, and say what he likes, 
 and every one else is to give way to him !' 
 
 ' Bai Jove, now, don't be an idiot !' ex- 
 claimed Max. ' What's the good — now that 
 I'm working on your side, and we have got 
 to understand one another — of running back 
 like this? I'm obliged to speak plain, and 
 to tell you that you are only a stupid child, 
 Laury, and that you've taken a liking for
 
 262 BY UIRTH A LADY. 
 
 another stupid child — and there's a pair of 
 jou ; but all the same, if you do as I tell 
 you, all will come right !' 
 
 Laura tossed her head, and seemed 
 somewhat molhfied, perhaps from being 
 reminded of her folly. 
 
 'There,' said Max, ' that will do for this 
 morning; so now do just as I tell you, and 
 leave all the rest to me. But is it a bar- 
 gain ?' 
 
 Laura Bra}^ was thoughtful for a few 
 minutes. She was placed in a position 
 which required consideration: the languid 
 brother, whom she had hitherto almost de- 
 spised, was asking her to forego one purpose 
 for the sake of an equivalent; but it was 
 the fact of his asking her to trust herself 
 entirely to his guidance that troubled her ; 
 and for a while she shrank from yielding. 
 
 ' Well,' he said again, ' is it a bargain?' 
 
 Still Laura did not answer, but re-
 
 THE 3IAKING OF A COMPACT. 263 
 
 mained gazing fixedly at the speaker, who 
 watched her as attentively, his flushed cheek 
 and eager eyes displaying the interest he 
 took in the affair. At last, though, she 
 leaned forward, and taking one of his arms 
 between her hands, 
 
 ' I never trusted you yet. Max,' she 
 said. 
 
 ' Sisterly, very — but perfectly true,' he 
 exclaimed, laughing. 
 
 'But I T^ill, Max, this time. But if 
 you play me false — ' 
 
 'Hush!' ejaculated Max, throwing him- 
 self back in his chair, and forcing his glass 
 beneath his brow to stare at the new-comer ; 
 for at that moment the drawing-room door 
 opened, and Ella Bedford stood upon the 
 threshold.
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 Ella's eesolve. 
 
 *I BEG pardon,' said Ella, upon seeing who 
 occupied the room. 'I thought that Mrs. 
 Bray would be here.' 
 
 ' No, not here now, Miss Bedford,' said 
 Max, in his best style. 'But take a chair; 
 she won't be long first. Don't run away, 
 Laury.' 
 
 ' I must ; 1 have a letter or two to 
 write,' said Laura, trying hard to appear 
 calm, and play into her brother's hand. 
 But so far the efforts of brother and sister 
 were without effect ; for, with a few words 
 of thanks, Ella withdrew ; and a minute 
 after the tones of Mrs. Bray's voice were 
 heard in loud expostulation, and coming
 
 ELLA'S RESOLVE. 266 
 
 nearer and nearer, till the door was flung 
 open, and she entered, literally driving 
 Ella before her. 
 
 ' There, only thmk, ]\Iaximilian dear,' 
 shrieked Mrs. Bray; ^here's Miss Bedford 
 been to say she must go I' 
 
 ' Quite out of the question,' said Max. 
 ' Bai Jove, what can you l^e thinking of, 
 Miss Bedford? Why, poor Nelly would 
 break her heart.' 
 
 Ella started slightl}', for Max Bray had 
 touched a tender chord, and she remained 
 silent, with the tears standing in her eyes, 
 as the form of Nelly forced itself upon her 
 imagination. 
 
 ' It would be so inconvenient,' shrieked 
 Mrs. Bray ; ' and you suit us so very well. 
 I was only yesterday saying to your mas- 
 ter — I mean, to Mr. Bray — that the way in 
 which those children have improved is per- 
 fectly wonderful.'
 
 266 BY BIRTH A LADY. 
 
 ' Perhaps Miss Bedford will reconsider 
 lier sudden determination,' said Laura, in a 
 voice which trembled with the struggle she 
 had with self to obey the intelligent look 
 darted at her by her brother. 
 
 'I have quietly thought it over,' said 
 Ella, looking with wondering eyes at the 
 last speaker, as she felt unable to com- 
 prehend this sudden change, ' and it is 
 really absolutely necessary that I should 
 leave.' 
 
 ' I'm sure you never will with my con- 
 sent,' shrieked Mrs. Bray. 'I think you 
 a very nice young person indeed, Miss 
 Bedford; and even Mr. Maximilian made 
 the remark this very morning, how pleased 
 he was with the way in which you manage 
 the children. And really, Miss Bedford, 
 if it is a matter of two pounds more in your 
 wages, I'm sure Mr. Bray won't object to 
 raising you. It's so troublesome to have
 
 267 
 
 to change, you see. But now that you are 
 aware how much we are disposed to keep 
 you, I think you will alter your mind.' 
 
 ' Indeed, madam — ' cried Ella. 
 
 'There, there, there — pray don't be 
 hasty I' shrieked Mrs. Bray. 'That's what 
 I always say to the servants : " Don't do 
 anything without plenty of consideration." 
 You are young yet, Miss Bedford, and have 
 not yet learned how much easier it is to 
 lose than to gain a situation. Xow take 
 my ad\dce, and go and think it over. ]N^o, 
 I won't hear another word now; only re- 
 member this : I wish you to stay, and so 
 does !Mr. Maximilian, who takes great in- 
 terest in the studies of his sisters, as well 
 as in their welfare, as you must have found 
 out before now.' 
 
 ' Bai Jove, yes V murmured Max, un- 
 abashed by the sharp glance sent flashing 
 at him by his sister.
 
 268 EY BIETH A LADY. 
 
 Tm afraid,' said Laura with an effort, 
 ' that it is all due to m}^ hasty words, 
 spoken in anger last night. I'm sure I beg 
 your pardon, Miss Bedford : I'm afraid I 
 was in error — labouring under a mistake — 
 been deceived — ' She hesitated here as for 
 an instant she encountered Ella's candid, 
 wondering look; but feeling reassured by 
 the thought that Ella did not know how 
 she had played the spy, Laura plucked up 
 courage, and joined with Mrs. Bray in re- 
 questing that Ella would quietly reconsider 
 the matter, playing the hypocrite admirably, 
 and little thinking how those soft eyes read 
 the deceit. 
 
 ' I quite agree with mamma, that you 
 had better calmly think the matter over,' 
 said Laura after a pause. 
 
 ^Bai Jove, yes!' said Max, rising and 
 going to the door. ' There, I'll leave you 
 all to talk it over.' And, with a parting
 
 Ella's resolve. 269 
 
 glance at Ella, he left the room; but no 
 sooner "\A'as the door closed than Ella started 
 again, for Max was heard loudly calhng, 
 ' Nelly ! Xelly I' Then there was the noise 
 of a scuffle, a smart slap, and two or three 
 ' I won't's !' and ' I sha'n't's I' in the midst of 
 which ^lax returned, dragging in Nelly, 
 very hot and wild-looking ; for her con- 
 science told her that she was to be taken 
 to task for listening amongst the shrubs 
 the night before. 
 
 'There!' said Max, 'I've got another 
 voter, bai Jove, Miss Bedford ! Here, Nelly, 
 Miss Bedford says she wants to go away 
 from the Elms ; it won't do — ' 
 
 'What!' cried Nelly, her eyes flashing 
 as she darted to Ella's side. 
 
 'You should say, "I beg your pardon,'' 
 or '' I did not catch your words," my dear,' 
 shrieked Mrs. Bray—' not " what !" ' 
 
 ' Miss Bedford wants to go !' cried Nelly,
 
 270 BY J3IETH A LADY. 
 
 not heeding Mamma Bray's words. ' Then 
 you and Laury have done it between you, 
 and it is cruel and wicked, and — and — 
 shameful, and — and beastly — that it is 1' 
 cried Nelly, bursting out into a passion of 
 weeping. ' But if she is sent away, I'll run 
 away too, and never come back any more.' 
 
 'But, bai Jove! we want her to stop,' 
 cried Max, ' don't you see ?' 
 
 'Then she will stop,' cried Nelly; 'won't 
 you. Miss Bedford?' 
 
 ' There, I'm off; I see you womenkind 
 will settle it amongst you,' said Max ; and, 
 satisfied that what had threatened to be a 
 check to his plans had been most likely 
 averted, he left the room and sought the 
 solace of a cigar. 
 
 END OF VOL. I. 
 
 LONDON : ROB SON AND SONS, PRINTERS, PANCRAS ROAD, N.W.