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 http://www.archive.org/details/oldoldstorynovel02care
 
 The 
 
 Old, Old Story. 
 
 BY 
 
 Rosa Nouchette Carey, 
 
 Author of 
 
 ^^ Nellie's Memories, ^^ 
 
 ''Not Like Other Girls,'' 
 
 ''Sir Godfrey's Granddaughters,' 
 
 etc. 
 
 In Three Volumes. 
 Vol. II. 
 
 LONDON : 
 
 RICHARD BENTLEY & SON, 
 
 PUBLISHERS IN ORDINARY 
 TO HER MAJESTY the QUEEN. 
 
 1894. 
 
 (All rights reserved.)
 
 CONTENTS OF VOL. 
 
 II 
 
 CHAPTER PAGE 
 
 I. The Gate House ... ... ... ... i 
 
 II. The Young Violin-player ... ... 19 
 
 III. A Fireside Circle... ... ... ... 39 
 
 IV. "I AM NOT Free" ... ... ... 59 
 
 V. Gabrielle de Brienne ... ... ... 82 
 
 VI. "You HAVE MY Best Wishes, Monsieur" ioi 
 
 VII. A Lost Paradise ... ... ... ... 119 
 
 VIII, The Letter with the Black Seal ... 135 
 
 IX. Mr. Lorimer has his Opinions ... ... 154 
 
 X. "You are not Happy here" ... ... 174 
 
 XL "It is not my Fault" ... ... ... 195 
 
 XII. "What is Wrong with you, Ewen?"... 214 
 
 XIII. Brother Daniel ... ... ... ... 231 
 
 XIV. Among the Philistines ... ... 248 
 
 XV. "Boys will be Boys" ... ... ... 265 
 
 XVI. "I LOVED HIM too MUCH ", ... ... 280 
 
 XVII. Clemency's Reward ... ... ... 295 
 
 XVIII. Reginald knows his own Mind ... 310
 
 THE OLD, OLD STORY. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 THE GATE HOUSE. 
 
 Witch-elms that counterchange the floor 
 Of this flat lawn with dusk and bright ; 
 And thou, with all thy breadth and height 
 
 Of foliage, towering sycamore. 
 
 ' Till from the garden and the wild 
 
 A fresh association blow, 
 
 And year by year the landscape grow 
 Familiar to the stranger's child." 
 
 In Memoriam. 
 
 T was with somewhat mixed feelincrs that 
 
 o 
 
 Gloden set out to keep her appointment 
 with Miss Winter. She had given her first lesson 
 to Hilda Parry on the previous afternoon, and it 
 had been very successful. Mrs. Parry, with much 
 tact, had left her alone with her pupil ; and, as 
 
 VOL. II. 20
 
 THE GATE HOUSE. 
 
 Winifred was shut up in the distant schoolroom 
 with the other children, Gloden had no cause for 
 nervousness, and she and Hilda were soon on 
 excellent terms with each other. In teaching, 
 some of Gloden's finer qualities came into play. 
 She was patient and painstaking by nature, and 
 her own enthusiasm and love of music seemed to 
 communicate itself almost magnetically to her 
 pupil ; and, as usual, when Gloden forgot herself 
 and her dignity she was charming. When the 
 lesson was over, Rosalie brought a message that 
 her mother would be pleased to see Miss Carrick 
 in the drawing-room, and she found a quarter of 
 an hour's chat with Mrs. Parry quite refreshing. 
 From that day she only looked on her visits to 
 the Red House in the light of a pleasure. The 
 good-hearted doctor and his wife soon got inte- 
 rested in her, and as time went on they mutually 
 liked and respected one another. Dr. Parry's 
 large-hearted benevolence and wide views easily 
 triumphed over mere conventional obstacles, and, 
 as his wife always shared his opinions, they soon 
 agreed that it was their duty to be kind to Miss 
 Carrick. 
 
 " She is a thorough gentlewoman, any one can 
 see that," Mrs. Parry observed to her husband ; 
 " and then she is Miss Logan's friend, and Hilda
 
 THE GATE HOUSE. 
 
 has taken such a fancy to her. Really I wonder 
 Miss Logan is not jealous of her, I do not think 
 there can be any objection to our showing her a 
 little attention." 
 
 " Certainly not," returned the doctor, briskly ; 
 but his eyes twinkled a little, for, as usual, his wife 
 had assimilated his opinions, and was innocently 
 and unconsciously reproducing them as her own. 
 Was it not only the other day that he had re- 
 marked that, in their dealings with Miss Carrick, 
 it would be well to take her on her own merits, 
 and not remember that Reuben Carrick's shop 
 was in the background ? " If only our Hilda 
 were as ladylike, I fancy you and I would be 
 satisfied, Cecilia," he had concluded, and now here 
 was Cecilia endorsing his speech with annotations 
 of her own. 
 
 It was this harmless habit that made certain 
 malicious folk call her "the doctor's echo." "Mrs. 
 Parry has no opinions of her own ; she only 
 reflects her husband's," they would say, which was 
 somewhat of an exaggeration. But the doctor, 
 who never laughed at her, only looked at her now 
 with kindly amused eyes, and suggested that Miss 
 Carrick should be asked to tea. 
 
 But Gloden's first visit to the Gate House was 
 far more formidable. In the first place, she and
 
 THE GATE HOUSE. 
 
 Miss Winter had never met, and Gloden, shy and 
 reserved by nature, seldom got on well with 
 strangers. Her retired life had seldom brought 
 her into contact with fresh faces, and during her 
 visits to town she had been far too much taken 
 up with her musical studies to mix in society, even 
 if she had had the opportunity of doing so. 
 
 To a proud and sensitive nature like Gloden's, 
 the first steps towards achieving independence are 
 thickly sown with thorns. It was not an easy 
 thing for Miss Carrick of Eltringham Vicarage to 
 enter any house except on terms of equality. She 
 was quite willing to work and to do her best for 
 Miss Winter, but, in her present prickly state of 
 mind, it was more than likely that her first im- 
 pression on Violet would be as unfavourable as 
 possible. " You will find her very shy and distant 
 at first," Winifred had said ; " but she feels herself 
 in an uncomfortable position, poor girl ! " And 
 Violet's reply to this had been that she got on 
 with most people, and that she did not expect 
 that Miss Carrick would be an exception. 
 
 Gloden's nervousness was increasing as she 
 turned off the Grantham road and entered the 
 shady little lane that led to the Gate House. 
 Already she could see the handsome bronze gates 
 shimmering in the distance. Involuntarily her steps
 
 THE GATE HOUSE. 
 
 5 
 
 slackened. The next minute she started with a 
 slight scream, as a large black retriever suddenly- 
 cleared the low hedge beside her and alighted at 
 her feet ; but, as the animal only wagged his tail 
 and looked up in her face in a friendly way as 
 though to apologize for startling her, she soon 
 recovered herself. The next moment a young 
 lady came hurriedly out of the nut-copse. " I am 
 so sorry Captain frightened you ! " she exclaimed 
 apologetically. " He is always startling people by 
 jumping over the hedge, but he means no harm. 
 Look ! he wants you to take notice of him ; he is 
 quite ready to shake a paw with you ; " and, as 
 though understanding what his mistress said, 
 Captain held out a black curly paw. 
 
 " He is a beautiful creature," observed Gloden, 
 caressing him, whereupon he circled round her 
 with excited barks of pleasure. 
 
 "Be quiet. Captain, and behave like a gentle- 
 man," remonstrated his mistress. Then she looked 
 at Gloden in a friendly manner. " You are going 
 up to the Gate House, are you not? You are 
 Miss Carrick, I know " — with a glance at the violin- 
 case that Gloden was carrying. "Let me take 
 you through the copse — it is so shady and pleasant ; 
 and then we can go in by the garden door." 
 
 "I hope I am punctual," observed Gloden, in
 
 6 THE GATE HOUSE. 
 
 rather a professional tone. " Miss Logan told me 
 that I was to be here at three." 
 
 " Oh yes, thank you," returned Violet, carelessly. 
 " Is this not a delicious little copse ? quite a 
 miniature wood. In the spring it is quite full of 
 oxlips ; you can see the pale yellow patches 
 everywhere. Captain and I spend a good deal of 
 our time in the wood. I have my books, and 
 Captain has his own private amusements." 
 
 " It is very peaceful and pleasant," returned 
 Gloden. " I do so love the country," she added, in 
 a lower tone ; but Violet heard her. She was 
 walking a little in advance, but she turned round. 
 
 " And so do I. I should hate to live in a large 
 town. I have always been used to the country. 
 Why, I was born here. Fancy spending twenty- 
 seven years of life in one place. Miss Carrick — that 
 is, with the exception of brief visits abroad. No 
 wonder I feel rooted." 
 
 Gloden looked at her without answering for a 
 moment, and her glance was very grave and pene- 
 trating. Violet's careless ease and engaging 
 manners had taken her by surprise. She was 
 speaking to her as she would to any ordinary 
 visitor, and with the utmost friendliness. How 
 pretty she was ! Gloden was moved to sudden 
 admiration ; Violet's warm hazel eyes and soft
 
 THE GATE HOUSE. 
 
 brown hair and small refined features always 
 made an impression on strangers. In her grey 
 tweed dress and deer-stalker's cap she looked 
 young and piquant, and the worn look that Mr 
 Lorimer had noticed was not so apparent. Violet's 
 looks varied with her moods, but to those who had 
 known her in her fresh young bloom there was a 
 marked change in her. 
 
 " When one is rooted, it is very painful to be 
 transplanted," observed Gloden, slowly. 
 
 And then it was Violet's turn to look at her 
 curiously. She had heard a great deal about Miss 
 Carrick from Winifred, and was quite disposed 
 to pity and befriend her, though she kept her 
 intentions to herself. 
 
 " Of course, you will only be on terms of civility 
 with Miss Carrick," Miss Wentworth had observed 
 during luncheon, laying marked sibilant stress on 
 her words. 
 
 " On terms of civility ? Oh, of course," she had 
 returned ; but it was impossible for Miss Went- 
 worth to deduce anything from this vague answer. 
 
 When Gloden made this little speech about 
 transplanting, the sadness of her voice told its 
 own pathetic story. 
 
 •' Oh, I forgot ! " returned Violet, penitently. " I 
 am so sorry I said that ; of course, you have just
 
 S THE GATE HOUSE. 
 
 gone through the uprooting process yourself. Miss 
 Logan told me all about it." And then she 
 added, with charming tact, " I once passed through 
 Eltringham on my way to Stylehurst. I thought 
 it such a pretty place." 
 
 " You have seen Eltringham .'' " and now Gloden's 
 professional dignity was quite forgotten, and she 
 was speaking in quite an animated manner. They 
 were crossing the moat by means of a slight 
 rustic bridge, and before them lay a wide lawn, 
 with old shady trees and thick clumps of rhodo- 
 dendrons and other shrubs, with only a low fence 
 dividing it from the green meadows. The after- 
 noon sun was shining on the warm red walls and 
 small-paned windows of the Gate House. " What 
 a dear old place! It looks like the Moated 
 Grange," she continued, interrupting herself, 
 " only the moat is dry." 
 
 " Oh, you are thinking of Tennyson," returned 
 Violet, smiling. *' I know what you mean. 
 
 *'' ' About a stone-cast from the wall 
 
 A sluice with blacken'd waters slept, 
 And o'er it many, round and small, 
 The cluster'd marish-mosses crept.' 
 
 The moat has always been dry in my time. Look 
 at the ferns growing in it. In the earlier part 
 of the summer it was quite full of wild flowers.
 
 THE GATE HOUSE. 
 
 When I was a little girl I called it my moat 
 garden." 
 
 " It is so peaceful here," murmured Gloden ; and, 
 indeed, others beside Gloden fell in love with the 
 quaint old Elizabethan house, with its picturesque 
 setting of green lawn and meadows, the last dotted 
 over by feeding cattle. " When I compared it to 
 the Moated Grange, I meant in its happier times, 
 before Mariana came to it." 
 
 " Its happier times ! Do I remember them ? " 
 observed Violet, in a curious inward voice ; and 
 then she repeated still softly — 
 
 " * But when the moon was very low, 
 
 And wild winds bound within their cell, 
 The shadow of the poplar fell 
 Upon her bed, across her brow.' 
 
 There is the very poplar" — pointing to it, laughing, 
 " and, by a curious coincidence, I actually see its 
 shadow as I lie in bed. Now, as there is not the 
 least hurry, let me take you round this path and 
 show you our dahlias." 
 
 Violet was acting with her usual impulsiveness. 
 Winifred's description of Miss Carrick had already 
 prepossessed her in her favour, but she was hardly 
 prepared for the extreme refinement and grace of 
 carriage that distinguished Gloden from other girls. 
 She was very fastidious in her likes and dislikes,
 
 lO THE GATE HOUSE. 
 
 but there was something about Miss Carrick that 
 attracted her at once. " She is not one of the 
 ordinary everyday people," she said to herself, as 
 they walked down a side path leading to the 
 kitchen garden. 
 
 " You said just now that you passed through 
 Eltringham," observed Gloden, unable to refrain 
 from the question. " Did you go into the village ? " 
 
 " Oh yes," returned Violet ; " but it is a little 
 country town, is it not ? " 
 
 " We have got into the habit of calling the 
 cluster of cottages by the church green the village," 
 explained Gloden. 
 
 " Ah ! I understand now ; but I think we saw 
 everything. We had two hours to wait for the 
 Stylehurst train, so we had luncheon at that funny 
 old inn in the town ; it was crowded with farmers 
 that day. And then we looked over the church. 
 There was a low grey house near it, with great 
 yellow roses climbing over the porch, and my 
 friend and I decided that it must be the vicarage." 
 
 *' You are right," replied Gloden, in a low voice. 
 " I have lived all my life in that house." 
 
 " It must be a sad change for you ; " and Violet's 
 voice was full of sympathy. 
 
 " How sad I will not say. I should not care to 
 live again through the fortnight that I have just
 
 THE GATE HOUSE. II 
 
 passed. One's home seems a part of one. When 
 I first came to Grantham I seemed hardly sure 
 of my own identity. I dare say you have never 
 known that curious feeling, when one seems a 
 stranger to one's self." 
 
 " It sounds rather like a paradox, but I think I 
 grasp your meaning. Yes, Miss Logan told me all 
 about it. She seemed to pity you excessively." 
 
 " Miss Logan is very nice, is she not ? " The 
 painful contraction of Gloden's throat, and the 
 sudden rush of bitter-sweet memories, warned her 
 to change the subject. 
 
 " Yes, very nice indeed," returned Violet ; but 
 she spoke without enthusiasm. She liked Winifred 
 with a calm, equable liking ; she admired her 
 straightforwardness and thorough honesty, and 
 envied her for her cheerful serenity, but there was 
 little in common between them. Violet, who 
 was critical and retrospective, demanded a great 
 deal of her friends, and in consequence she had 
 few intimates. Constance W^yndham was her only 
 close friend, and it would not be too much to say 
 that she loved her dearly ; but even Constance at 
 times had failed to satisfy her. 
 
 " A thoroughly happy woman cannot understand 
 me," Violet would say to herself. " Constance is 
 very dear, very large-minded and lovable, and she
 
 THE GATE HOUSE. 
 
 has plenty of imagination ; but she is so brimful 
 of satisfied life, that my yearnings seem to her 
 to border on discontent, though she would never 
 tell me so." 
 
 As soon as Violet had opened a little gate that 
 admitted them to the kitchen gate, a blaze of 
 colour met their eyes. A grand phalanx of 
 dahlias stood in stately rows, turning their broad 
 solid faces towards them, and forming a mass of 
 almost dazzling bloom. 
 
 Gloden, who was passionately fond of flowers, 
 fairly gloated over the beautiful sight. The wonder- 
 fully varied shades of ruby and pink, orange and 
 yellow, creamy white and pale delicious lilac, 
 formed an exquisite foreground, while the delicate 
 tints of the single dahlias made them look like 
 floral ladies against the broad massiveness of the 
 gay knights who flaunted their bravery beside 
 them. 
 
 " I wonder what a world without flowers would 
 be .'' " murmured Gloden, half to herself. " Fancy 
 the poor old earth without her children! " 
 
 Violet did not immediately answer this speech. 
 She revolved it slowly as they made their way 
 back to the house. It pleased her ; in the dull prose 
 of her daily life, it was like stumbling on a line of 
 poetry that suited her. No, this was no ordinary girl.
 
 THE GATE HOUSE. 1 3 
 
 " I must introduce you to my mother and Miss 
 Wentworth before I take you up to my private 
 den," she observed, when they had reached the 
 side door. " I have a little growlery of my own 
 on the first floor, which I call my castle. There 
 are plenty of sitting-rooms down below, but they 
 all communicate with each other in a tiresome 
 way, so there is no chance of privacy," 
 
 Gloden fully endorsed this remark as she followed 
 Violet through room after room, all quaintly and 
 handsomely furnished, and full of pictures and 
 choice antiquities gathered together by genera- 
 tions of Winters, until they reached a large inner 
 drawing-room, shut in with heavy red silk curtains, 
 where two ladies were sitting, one working, and 
 the other reading aloud, their ordinary afternoon 
 employment. Both of them bowed, and Mrs. 
 Winter half rose from her seat as Violet introduced 
 Miss Carrick ; but Miss Wentworth drew her 
 brows together and addressed Violet a little 
 abruptly. As she often said, she never minced 
 matters, but always came to the point at once. 
 
 " I thought your lesson was to be at three, 
 Violet? It has just chimed the half-hour." She 
 spoke in a tone of polite inquiry, rather tempered 
 with reproof. 
 
 " Yes, I know," returned Violet ; " but it is such
 
 14 THE GATE HOUSE. 
 
 a lovely afternoon that Miss Carrick and I were 
 tempted to linger out-of-doors. I suppose you 
 have no objection, Cousin Tess?" — with a slight 
 curl of her lip. 
 
 " It is no concern of mine," returned Miss Went- 
 worth, calmly ; " only your mother remarked just 
 now that it was a pity to waste Miss Carrick's 
 valuable time." 
 
 " I don't think we lost our time. Anyhow, we 
 shall make up for it presently," was the curt 
 answer. " Will you come with me now, Miss 
 Carrick } " 
 
 Then Miss Wentworth coughed a little mean- 
 ingly, and Mrs. Winter called her daughter 
 back. 
 
 " I was thinking, Violet," she said languidly, 
 ''that Miss Carrick might play to us a little, if she 
 would be so good. Theresa thought — that is " — 
 as Miss Wentworth frowned — "we both thought 
 that it would be as well to judge of her style of 
 teaching. You know what I mean, Miss Carrick " 
 — looking :at her pleasantly ; " it would be more 
 satisfactory to all parties, and would give us a 
 great deal of pleasure, for we heard you play 
 most beautifully." 
 
 " If you wish it," returned Gloden, stiffly, " I 
 can certainly have no objection."
 
 THE GATE HOUSE. 1 5 
 
 But there was such repressed haughtiness in her 
 manner that Violet took alarm. 
 
 " I thought I told you, mother, that there was 
 no need of troubling Miss Carrick," she said im- 
 patiently, " I dare say she will play for us by- 
 and-by, but I should prefer taking her to my 
 room now. When we have finished, I will bring 
 her back to have some tea. Come, Miss Carrick ; 
 I am determined not to waste your valuable time 
 any longer;" and Violet's tone was decidedly 
 sarcastic. 
 
 "You see, my dear Amy, how little Violet 
 respects your wishes," observed Miss Wentworth, 
 taking up her book again. " It was only at luncheon 
 that you told her that you would like to hear 
 Miss Carrick play ; that you were anxious to see 
 if Miss Logan's account of her wonderful execution 
 were not a little exaggerated." 
 
 " I thought that was your speech, Theresa." 
 
 " Was it } I could have declared the words 
 were yours ; but we always think so alike. Amy. 
 I remember 1 did tell Violet that we ought to 
 be allowed to judge of Miss Carrick's style of 
 playing ; but, as Violet's sole aim in life seems to 
 thwart every wish I am so unfortunate as to 
 express, no wonder that she carried Miss Carrick 
 off."
 
 l6 THE GATE HOUSE. 
 
 Miss Wentworth spoke with real bitterness ; she 
 looked warm and angry. She was not a bad-natured 
 woman, but she had a quick temper, and Violet 
 always aggravated her. 
 
 "Dear Theresa, I wish you would not talk so," 
 observed Mrs. Winter, plaintively. " It is such a 
 trial to me that you and Violet do not get on 
 better together. I am sure I try to keep the 
 peace, but it seems as though you had always a 
 grievance against the poor child ; and she was 
 looking so pretty and bright just now, quite like 
 her old self." For there were times when Mrs. 
 Winter writhed a little under the yoke of her 
 devoted friend, and natural maternal yearnings 
 made her long for fuller intimacy with her daughter. 
 
 " I do not know what Violet's good looks have 
 to do with it," returned Miss Wentworth, sharply ; 
 "but it is a pity that she shows such self-will to 
 the best of mothers — for you are that, with all 
 your faults. Amy." 
 
 Then Mrs. Winter, whose feelings were easily 
 touched, began to cry, and, in spite of herself, to 
 feel injured. It was not kind of Violet to take Miss 
 Carrick off in that abrupt fashion. 
 
 " If you were only firmer, and put your foot 
 down ; but where Violet is concerned, you are as 
 weak as water. If Violet were my daughter —
 
 THE GATE HOUSE. 1/ 
 
 which Heaven forbid," she added piously to herself 
 — " do you think that I should allow her to master 
 me on every occasion ? Why did you not say, 
 'Violet, I must insist upon having my wishes 
 carried out. I particularly desire to hear Miss 
 Winter play ' ? " 
 
 " I do hate a contest of wills between Violet and 
 myself," sighed Mrs. Winter. " She is masterful, 
 as you say, and perhaps I am a little weak." 
 
 "Weak as water," interpolated her friend, with 
 more truth than politeness. 
 
 "There is no need for you to say such hard 
 things, Theresa. We are not all alike, and I 
 suppose I was born so." 
 
 "That is a mischievous fallacy. Amy. I have 
 often argued this with you before. We can correct 
 and overcome our faults of nature. There is a 
 sermon on that subject that I will read you next 
 Sunday ; it puts all this so lucidly before one. 
 Weakness can be strengthened. 1 used to tell you 
 so when Violet was a child, and you refused to 
 punish her for her wilfulness." 
 
 " I do so hate giving pain to any one, even for 
 their good," lamented Mrs. Winter. " I like 
 people to be comfortable, and I like to be comfort- 
 able myself. You may smile, Tessie, but you do 
 not know a mother's feelings." 
 
 VOL. II. 21
 
 1 8 THE GATE HOUSE. 
 
 This was Mrs. Winter's reserve arrow. She had 
 more than once seen Theresa wince, as though it 
 struck her. The most strong-minded woman has 
 her weak point, some undefended part, where 
 the enemy's javelin may enter with deadly thrust. 
 And there had been a time in Theresa Went- 
 worth's life when she had hoped to be a wife and 
 mother like other women, and the disappointment 
 had been felt keenly. Even now she did not love 
 to be told that she could not enter into a mother's 
 feelings ; it seemed to hurt her pride and her 
 heart, and it invested Amy with some sacred and 
 mysterious dignity. 
 
 " Perhaps not. But I may as well go on with 
 our reading ; it will be using our time more 
 profitably than in fruitless discussion." 
 
 And, without waiting for her friend's permission, 
 she began to read in a clear, resonant tone ; and 
 poor Mrs. Winter, who never ventured to contradict 
 her when she was in this lofty and virtuous mood, 
 sighed wearily as she went on with her work, and 
 wished with all her heart that she were more like 
 Theresa, and that she were not such a poor weak 
 •creature.
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 THE YOUNG VIOLIN-PLAYER. 
 
 ' There is a pleasure that is born of pain." 
 
 Owen Meredith. 
 
 S soon as they were out of hearing-, Gloden 
 said gratefully, "Thank you so much for 
 coming to my relief ; but I am afraid I have been 
 cowardly. I ought to have played to your mother 
 just now." 
 
 " I saw how much you disliked the idea." 
 " Yes ; but all the same I was wrong. I must 
 try to conquer this tiresome shyness, and to take 
 everything that comes in the day's work ; but 
 I have never been asked to play just in that way ; " 
 and her lip quivered. 
 
 " Mother meant well, but she expressed herself 
 a little awkwardly. Miss Logan has given us such 
 glowing accounts of your execution, that I hope you
 
 20 THE YOUNG VIOLIN-PLAYER. 
 
 will let us hear you some day, when you are more 
 accustomed to us ; " and Violet spoke so winningly 
 that Gloden's wounded pride was insensibly 
 healed. 
 
 " I will play for you whenever you wish it," was 
 her answer. " I know I was wrong ; but I felt, if 
 I played just then, that I should not have done 
 myself justice. My poor violin has to suffer for 
 my moods. With a sympathetic audience, I can 
 forget everything and lose myself in the music ; 
 but under those circumstances this would have 
 been impossible." 
 
 " Never mind," returned Violet, gently ; " you 
 will know us better soon. Now, this is my den, 
 sanctum, or whatever you like to call it." 
 
 Gloden looked round it with interested curiosity. 
 It was rather an oddly shaped room. One of the 
 corners had been cut off, and the only window, 
 a deep, low bay, formed an angle of the room ; a 
 low padded seat occupied the entire recess. The 
 view was restricted, but charming ; it looked over 
 the moat and rustic bridge to the nut copse and 
 the lane. 
 
 The room was low, and a heavy beam ran across 
 the window ; but all available space had been 
 utilized. Bookcases lined the lower part of the 
 walls, and the upper part was wholly covered by
 
 THE YOUNG VIOLIN-PLAYER. 21 
 
 choice engravings and photographs. An old oak 
 bureau, a curiously carved table, and two or three 
 easy-chairs composed the furniture. 
 
 " How delightfully quaint ! " exclaimed Gloden ; 
 " that window recess is charming. I am afraid, in 
 your place, I should spend most of my time there." 
 
 " I am very fond of my dear old gable-room," 
 returned Violet. 
 
 And then they established themselves cosily in 
 the recess, and for the next hour worked busily. 
 Now and then Violet would have strayed off into 
 desultory conversation, but Gloden refused to be 
 seduced into idleness. 
 
 " We must not waste our time," she said firmly; 
 
 And, though Violet pretended to grumble, she 
 respected her young teacher's conscientiousness. 
 At the end of the hour she suddenly interrupted 
 herself 
 
 " There ! I have had a splendid lesson, and am 
 entirely convinced that I know nothing at all, 
 which is a wholesome frame of mind for a 
 beginner." 
 
 "I cannot endorse that," returned Gloden, 
 seriously ; " but you have been badly taught, and 
 your style is faulty. You have a good deal to 
 unlearn before you can make progress, but you 
 have a good touch,"
 
 22 THE YOUNG VIOLIN-PLAYER. 
 
 "You are trying to encourage me, but I am 
 quite flattened out. You are a capital teacher, 
 Miss Carrick ; you seemed as though you enjoyed 
 the lesson as much as I did." And Gloden did 
 not deny this. 
 
 " I always liked the idea of giving violin- 
 lessons," she replied. " Dear father and I used to 
 talk about it. We planned, if anything should 
 go wrong, that I should turn my talent to account. 
 Teaching is no hardship to me." 
 
 " So I see. Now I propose that we go down 
 and have some tea, and then we will read some 
 Italian afterwards. We are a little erratic to-day, 
 but it does not matter. I hope that Miss Logan 
 gave you my message." 
 
 " I am not sure that she brought me any special 
 message." 
 
 " Well, I will refresh your memory. I par- 
 ticularly requested that there should be no hard- 
 and-fast rules ; that the two hours' study should 
 not be too rigidly enforced. I believe I need 
 companionship and occupation, so, if you are not 
 otherwise engaged, I hope you will sometimes 
 extend your stay." 
 
 "Thank you; I see what you mean, and will 
 willingly oblige you until the evenings get shorter 
 and darker. If we are going downstairs, I think I
 
 THE YOUNG VIOLIN-PLAYER. 23 
 
 will take my violin. My conscience is still uneasy, 
 you see, and I want to get the better of my 
 cowardice." 
 
 " That is plucky of you, and I will not combat 
 so good a resolution. You shall leave it outside 
 in the lobby, and then it will be handy if you 
 want it. This is the quickest way to the red- 
 room ; " and she preceded Gloden down a narrow 
 passage lighted from the staircase window, and 
 opened the door. 
 
 Gloden followed her closely ; and then a sudden 
 wave of shyness assailed her. The room seemed 
 full. A lady in a long grey cloak was sitting by 
 Mrs. Winter, and a dark, slight man was talking 
 to Miss Wentworth. 
 
 " Constance, my dear Constance ! " exclaimed 
 Violet, in a delighted tone, as she almost flew 
 across the room ; and the next moment a voice 
 that sounded strangely familiar addressed Gloden. 
 Mr. Lorimer was just coming out of the Japanese- 
 room ; he stopped short as he saw her. 
 
 " Miss Carrick, this is a surprise. I had no idea 
 you knew the Gate House people. Let me find 
 you a seat, and then I must speak to Miss Winter.'* 
 " Thank you ; any seat will do. Please do not 
 let me detain you." She spoke with the cold 
 sedateness that always veiled extreme nervousness.
 
 24 THE YOUNG VIOLIN-PLAYER. 
 
 Mr. Lorimer glanced at her, then he went 
 across the room and talked a little to Violet ; while 
 Gloden sat holding her head high, and looking 
 very dignified and unapproachable, but trembling 
 inwardly in agonies of trepidation. What was 
 she to do? Miss Winter ought not to have ex- 
 posed her to this ordeal. She was in a false 
 position among all these people. Mrs. Winter 
 would think her in the way. If it were not for the 
 Italian lesson, she would slip away unobserved. 
 She could easily do it ; she was close to the cur- 
 tained recess. She would find her way back to the 
 gable-room, and await Miss Winter's convenience ; 
 she had no right to intrude on the family in this 
 manner. At this point she half rose, but Mr. 
 Lorimer was making his way back to her. 
 
 " Miss Winter has asked me to bring you some 
 tea," he said pleasantly. " I wish you would not 
 exclude yourself in that corner, as though you 
 disliked the present company." Then, sitting 
 down beside her, he continued in the same friendly 
 voice, " Have you known the Winters long .? 
 They are very old friends of mine." 
 
 " I have never seen them before " — and now 
 Gloden's cheeks began to burn — " I am giving 
 Miss Winter violin-lessons ; we had the first lesson 
 this afternoon."
 
 THE YOUNG VIOLIN-PLAYER. 25 
 
 " Indeed " — in a tone of great interest — " and in 
 the gable-room, I suppose. So you teach the 
 fiddle, Miss Carrick ? You are quite in the fashion, 
 every one writes a novel or plays the fiddle nowa- 
 days." 
 
 " I am afraid necessity has more to do with it 
 than fashion." 
 
 "Oh, I dare say," returned Mr. Lorimer, care- 
 lessly ; but of course he knew what she meant. 
 She had to earn her livelihood, poor girl, and very 
 likely she did not take to it kindly. " I used to 
 play the fiddle myself once, but my people seemed 
 to have an objection. My sister was almost abject 
 in her entreaties, she said it was the most painful 
 hobby that I had ever indulged in, and so I gave 
 it up. One does not like to be a nuisance." 
 
 " If you had persevered you would have ceased 
 to be a nuisance," returned Gloden, quietly. 
 
 " By Jove ! should I .^ I never thought of that. 
 But I am an easy-going fellow, and like to please 
 people, so I just chucked it up. I don't mind 
 telling you," he continued, in a confiding way, 
 " that there was no chance of my doing much, and 
 when Hamerton — that's Hamerton over there — 
 called it beastly caterwauling, I thought I had had 
 almost enough of it." 
 
 Gloden smiled ; she could not help it. The
 
 26 THE YOUNG VIOLIN-PLAYER. 
 
 frank boyishness of Mr. Lorimer's manner seemed 
 to drive away her nervousness and to put her more 
 at her ease. She began to like him, and to feel 
 some pleasure in his society ; and then a sudden 
 recollection put her on her guard again. 
 
 That quick, wavering smile gave Reginald a 
 feeling of triumph. The very difficulty of making 
 way with her and of disarming her cold reserve 
 gave a piquancy to his intercourse with her. He 
 had sought her out in her distant corner with the 
 good-natured intention of making her more 
 comfortable, but he became interested and 
 remained. 
 
 He was quite aware that she snubbed him in a 
 ladylike way, and kept him at a distance, and the 
 experience was a new one ; he never remembered 
 having been snubbed before. The discipline was 
 wholesome ; besides, it showed a great mind to for- 
 give injuries. So he began talking to her about 
 Harvey, until he saw his sister looking at him, and 
 then a sudden idea came into his head. He ex- 
 cused himself to Gloden, and waited for an oppor- 
 tunity of drawing his sister aside. 
 
 " Con, I want to speak to you a moment. The 
 young lady over there to whom I was talking just 
 now is Miss Carrick." 
 
 " Yes, I know. Miss Wentworth has just told
 
 THE YOUNG VIOLIN-PLAYER. 2/ 
 
 me so;" and Constance's vcice was a little in- 
 different. " She looks rather out of it, Reggie." 
 
 " No wonder, when no one takes any notice of 
 her. That is why I talked to her myself." 
 
 "There was no need for you to absent yourself 
 so long. Miss Wentworth was a little sarcastic 
 about it. She said you were such a stranger that 
 they did not like losing a minute of your company ; 
 and, you know, Reg " 
 
 " What do I know ? " — quite ignoring her 
 meaning. 
 
 " Well, it is not quite easy to explain ; and you 
 always take me up so. You are so dreadfully 
 democratic." 
 
 " Oh, I know now at what you are aiming. We 
 will drop all that, if you please. I want you to 
 talk to Miss Carrick, Constance, and befriend her 
 a little. I think it would be only kind. There ! 
 Violet and Hamerton are with her now, but you 
 can watch your opportunity." 
 
 Constance threw back her head and smiled 
 amiably in her brother's face. She had not the 
 slightest intention of walking across the room and 
 talking to Miss Carrick ; it was just one of Reg's 
 ridiculous, lax ideas which Car had always so 
 disliked. He would associate on terms of equality 
 with any one. She had thought it a mistake of
 
 28 THE YOUNG VIOLIN-PLAYER. 
 
 his to single out Miss Carrick and to talk to her 
 so long. There were positively no limits to Reg's 
 good nature ; but she was determined not to be 
 drawn into it. 
 
 " Thank you, dear. I will see about it," she 
 said calmly. " But Mrs. Winter is looking at us ; 
 go and talk to her now ;" and Reginald was just 
 making his way to his hostess, when Violet's clear 
 voice arrested him. 
 
 "Mother dear, Miss Carrick will play for us 
 now, if you still wish it. Mr. Hamerton has been 
 asking her." 
 
 "I shall be delighted, Vi." 
 
 " A gentleman can often prevail when we poor 
 ladies meet with refusal," observed Miss Went- 
 worth, so audibly that Gloden heard her and 
 coloured with annoyance. 
 
 " Miss Carrick brought down her violin on 
 purpose to play to mother," returned Violet, firing 
 up in a moment. " Neither of us knew any one 
 was here, so your speech goes for nothing, Cousin 
 Tess. Perhaps you would rather not play now. 
 Miss Carrick " — in a low voice. 
 
 " I don't think I need be so foolish as that," 
 replied Gloden, very properly. " Miss Wentworth 
 is only punishing me for my backwardness. Next 
 time I will do as I am asked at once."
 
 THE YOUNG VIOLIN-PLAYER. 29 
 
 "Hear, hear! " exclaimed Mr. Hamerton, clapping 
 his hands softly. " I applaud your good resolution. 
 Where is the violin-case t May I fetch it t " 
 
 But Gloden thanked him, and declined ; she 
 would rather fetch it herself. 
 
 " Miss Carrick seems a very peculiar young 
 person," observed Miss Wentworth confidentially 
 to Constance. " I never saw a young woman in 
 her position give herself so many airs. She crossed 
 the room just now like a tragedy queen, and as 
 though every one were looking at her ; and you 
 know that she is just a mere nobody, and has to 
 work for her living." 
 
 " I know all about her," returned Constance, 
 quietly. But this sort of talk was not to her taste. 
 " Dear Mrs. Winter" — leaning forward a little — " I 
 do hope you will spare Vi to me as much as 
 possible. We want her to-morrow for a long day, 
 
 and if she could stay the night " But while this 
 
 little matter was being argued, Gloden returned 
 with her violin and took up her position against 
 the curtains. 
 
 Gloden was in a curious mood, bordering upon 
 recklessness. She had informed Violet, only an 
 hour and a half ago, that it was impossible for her 
 to play to an unsympathetic audience, and yet 
 here she was, crossing the room in sleep-walker's
 
 30 7'HE YOUNG VIOLIN-PLAYER. 
 
 fashion, hardly alive to her surroundings, and with 
 her violin in her hand. 
 
 But all the time the proud spirit within her was 
 saying, " They all patronize and keep me at a 
 distance. Not Mr. Lorimer, perhaps, but the 
 others. I will show them that I can play ; that I 
 have something in me that they cannot touch. I 
 will not allow this foolish nervousness to get the 
 mastery over me. An hour ago I could not 
 have played, now I can. I feel it." \nd it was 
 under the irritant of some unknown pain, for which 
 she could find no name, that Gloden began to 
 play. 
 
 Mr. Hamerton, who was close to the girl, was 
 struck with the strange proud look in her eyes 
 as she passed him. His profession had given him 
 a good deal of insight into character, and the few 
 words he had exchanged with her had excited his 
 interest. He now watched her closely. It was not 
 that he admired her, for he thought her rather 
 plain than otherwise ; but she somehow attracted 
 him. 
 
 Reginald had sunk down on a settee beside 
 Violet, with his arms lightly crossed over the arm 
 of his sister's chair ; but, as Gloden played on, he 
 straightened himself, and his look became more 
 intent. Except at St. James's Hall, or in other
 
 TFIE YOUNG VIOLIN-PLAYER. 
 
 concert-rooms, he had seldom heard such playing 
 as this. 
 
 For the first moment the music had dragged a 
 little harshly, as though the player's mood affected 
 the instrument. Then there was a change. Glo- 
 den's brow cleared as though by magic. She drew 
 her bow delicately and lightly across the strings 
 in a sort of tender prelude. Then came warmth, 
 colour, and melody. A passionate protest of sound 
 seemed to flood the room. By-and-by it trembled 
 and wavered into plaintive, pathetic chords. Was 
 it a miserere, a dirge ? It grew slower and more 
 solemn. 
 
 Good-bye to the hopes of youth, to the glorious 
 anticipations of manhood, of womanhood, to all 
 things human. '*' Ma chere Gabrielle, jamais, 
 jamais." Why should those words have risen 
 suddenly to Reginald's memory, when he saw Felix 
 Hamerton's fixed dark face ? Yet it came again 
 and again, " Jamais, jamais, ma chere Gabrielle." 
 But in another minute he had forgotten Felix. 
 Those sweet, long-drawn chords seemed playing 
 on his own heart-strings. Why had this sadness 
 returned ? What was the meaning of this sudden 
 feeling of strange vacuum — this divine discontent? 
 What did he want } Was it Car, his painstaking 
 and affectionate helpmate, whose strong white hand
 
 32 THE YOUNG VIOLIN-PLAYER. 
 
 had helped him over the rough places of life — was 
 he pining for her ? But he knew that the grief at 
 her loss had settled into calmness. This pain was 
 more subtle and penetrating ; it stretched into 
 unknown depths. He sighed as though the vague- 
 ness troubled him, and then he looked at the young 
 violinist. 
 
 Gloden had no idea, as she took up her position 
 against the red silk curtains that divided the two 
 drawing-rooms, what a striking background it 
 would make to the straightness of her black 
 dress. As she manipulated her bow, he could see 
 the delicate white wrist and thin hand. What had 
 become of her paleness and her proud melancholy ? 
 Her eyes were bright ; there was warm colour in 
 her face ; her lips were parted ; she looked trans- 
 formed— almost beautiful. "Good heavens!" he 
 said to himself, " the girl is a genius, and she 
 knows it. She is a disguised princess of art." But 
 what more he would have told himself in his 
 dreamy soliloquy was checked by the sudden 
 silence. Gloden had struck the last chord. 
 
 The next minute Constance had started from 
 her chair and was halfway across the room, and 
 her beautiful face was flushed, and there were 
 tears in her eyes. 
 
 ** Thank you — thank you so much," she said
 
 THE YOUNG VIOLIN-PLAYER. 33 
 
 very earnestly, and holding out her hand. " It 
 was exquisite ; it was simply perfect ! How have 
 you ever learnt to play like that ? Miss Carrick 
 is a wonderful performer, is she not, Felix ? " 
 
 " Miss Carrick would not allow us to remember 
 her existence," replied Mr. Hamerton, quietly. 
 
 Then Gloden turned to him with a radiant smile. 
 " That is the greatest compliment you could have 
 paid me," she said gratefully. " So few people 
 understand that it is only the music, not the per- 
 former. Until I can forget myself I can enjoy 
 nothing." 
 
 " I am delighted to have secured such a teacher 
 for dear Violet," murmured Mrs. Winter aside to 
 her confidante. " She is a remarkable player, is 
 she not, Theresa ? She reminds me of Made- 
 moiselle de Mersac." 
 
 " Mademoiselle de Mersac's playing was far 
 more brilliant," returned Miss Wentworth, grudg- 
 ingly. " I am not fond of these funeral dirges ; but 
 Miss Carrick plays well, though there was affecta- 
 tion in her style. She poses too much for my taste, 
 but I suppose we must ask her to play again." 
 
 " Thank you, you must excuse me," returned 
 Gloden, as Miss Wentworth, with much volubility, 
 besought her to give them another treat. " I must 
 really go now ; it is getting so late." 
 
 VOL. II. 2 2
 
 34 THE YOUNG VIOLIN-PLAYER. 
 
 The fire was fast dying out. She looked wan 
 and exhausted ; whenever she played in this 
 passion of self-forgetfulness, whenever she suffered 
 herself to be carried away and possessed by the 
 music, there was always this exhaustion for a time. 
 
 '' Of course you shall go if you wish it," observed 
 Violet, kindly ; but when, a minute afterwards, 
 she and Gloden walked through the rooms, Mr. 
 Hamerton followed them. 
 
 " One day I hope you will let me hear you play 
 again," he said, with kindly seriousness. " I never 
 pay compliments, do I, Miss Winter } so you 
 must believe me when I tell you that you have 
 given me intense pleasure." 
 
 "One cannot help believing you when you speak 
 in that way," returned Gloden, simply, and there was 
 no trace of coldness and haughtiness in her manner 
 as she shook hands with him. 
 
 She knew nothing about Felix Hamerton. She 
 had never heard of him ; he was a stranger among 
 strangers. He had just crossed her path, and she 
 might never see him again ; but his look and manner 
 inspired her with confidence, and she felt that she 
 should not forget him. " He is a true man, and there 
 are not too many in the world," she thought, as she 
 walked down the little lane, with red hips and haws 
 shining in the hedgerows. " But something tells
 
 THE YOUNG VIOLIN-PLAYER. 35 
 
 me that he is unhappy, or my violin would not 
 have said so much to him. I wonder if I am too 
 imaginative about people when I form these hasty 
 conclusions? Sometimes they are wrong, and I 
 find out my mistake ; but I am often right. It is 
 interesting to make up stories about people, and it 
 does no harm. Some men have no secrets in their 
 life ; Mr. Lorimer is one of these. To look at him, 
 one would say his life was perfectly simple. He 
 has known trouble. Yes, indeed, we are born to 
 trouble ; but there is no background, no hidden 
 mystery. I hardly know what I mean ; I am just 
 guessing about strangers in the dark ; but there is 
 a worn look about Mr. Hamerton's face, as though 
 he has suffered." 
 
 Gloden was amusing herself with these fanciful 
 speculations. It was a favourite habit of hers ; 
 but by-and-by a question obtruded itself. Why 
 had Mr. Lorimer not thanked her as he bade her 
 good-bye 1 Every one else in the room had paid 
 her some compliment, but he had been perfectly 
 silent. " Good-bye, Miss Carrick ; " those had 
 been his sole words, and he had scarcely looked 
 at her as he had given her his hand. Was it her 
 fancy that then there was a slight coolness in his 
 manner? Strange to say, this question troubled 
 her during the remainder of her walk.
 
 36 THE YOUNG VIOLIN-PLAYER. 
 
 " Reggie," observed Constance, as they drove 
 home in the twilight — they were in Reginald's 
 dogcart, and Mr. Hamerton sat behind them — " I 
 am very much struck with Miss Carrick ; she looks 
 quite a gentlewoman, and then she plays so 
 beautifully. It is such a pity that she has not 
 been trained as a professional ; she could play at 
 concerts." 
 
 "How do we know that she would like that, 
 Constance ? " 
 
 " Why not, dear } People would think ever so 
 much more of her, and then she would make 
 money ; even now she is good enough to play at 
 ' At homes,' and that sort of thing. I really feel 
 very much interested in her. Miss Wentworth 
 told me just now that she was dreadfully poor, 
 and that she was quite dependent on Mr. Carrick. 
 It does seem such a poor sort of life, living in a 
 back parlour, and giving violin-lessons in Grant- 
 ham. She ought to come to town and study, and 
 then make her debut. I wish I could talk to her, 
 and put the thing properly before her." 
 
 " There is no reason on earth why you should 
 not talk to her." But Reginald spoke in rather 
 an irritable tone. For almost the first time in 
 their lives, he and Constance were not quite hitting 
 it off; she was not in touch with him, somehow.
 
 THE YOUNG VIOLIN-PLAYER, 37 
 
 She had at first refused, or as good as refused, 
 to make Miss Carrick's acquaintance, and now 
 she was taking upon herself to direct the course 
 of her life. Why should she play at concerts, and 
 be turned into a professional hack ? A delicate, 
 shy girl, a girl with plenty of pride in her, too, 
 was not the best sort to come out in public ; and 
 he wondered at Constance for making such a 
 proposition. 
 
 "But, Reg dear, how could it be managed?" 
 went on his sister, quite innocent of the fact that 
 her remarks were making Reginald cross. " I 
 could not call on her; it would look too patronizing, 
 and she would not like it. Perhaps" — reflectively — 
 
 ** Violet might think of something ; or I have 
 
 it — they have their lesson in the gable-room. You 
 remember the gable room, Reg. I will drive 
 over one afternoon, and run up there as I used in 
 the old days. We are much too formal at the 
 Gate House now ; it is that tiresome Miss Went- 
 worth, I believe. But I shall tell Mrs. Winter that 
 I must have one of my old chats in the gable-room, 
 and then I shall get my way." 
 
 " As you women always do," returned Reginald, 
 dryly ; but he refused to be drawn into any further 
 discussion about Miss Carrick's fitness to make 
 her debut. He drove on, touching up the mare
 
 38 THE YOUNG VIOLIN-PLAYER. 
 
 rather smartly, and talking incessantly about the 
 boys and Tottie. 
 
 " What are you and Harcourt going to make of 
 Rex ? " he asked. " As his godfather I have a 
 right to be consulted, but Harcourt is so con- 
 foundedly close about the boys." 
 
 But all the time he talked, and Constance 
 answered, Felix sat silent, looking down the dark 
 road and at the faint moonlight stealing over the 
 tops of the trees, and his lips were firmly closed ; 
 but within himself he was saying over and over 
 again, " Not my Gabrielle now, or ever will be. 
 All that was finished long ago."
 
 s 
 
 
 1 
 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 A FIRESIDE CIRCLE. 
 
 " I love everything that is old — old friends, old times, old manners, 
 old books, old wine." — Goldsmith's She Stoops to Conquer. 
 
 ** Tell me the tales that to me w^ere so dear, 
 Long, long ago — long, long ago." 
 
 Thomas Haynes Bayley. 
 
 ONSTANCE WYNDHAM had been quite 
 in earnest when she declared her intention 
 of giving Miss Carrick advice about her future. 
 She was one of those large-minded, liberal women 
 who delight in playing the part of Lady Bountiful 
 to their less fortunate neighbours, and who do 
 not object to be regarded in the light of a minor 
 providence. Natures of this calibre are bound to 
 be rash, and at times to act impulsively ; the full 
 tide of their sympathy and benevolence is apt to 
 overflow its marginal boundaries, and to fertilize 
 alien pastures. Sheer warmth of heart, and a
 
 40 A FIRESIDE CIRCLE. 
 
 desire to see those she loved as happy as herself, 
 had made her an unblushing matchmaker. "Do 
 as you would be done by, and a little more," was 
 Constance's motto, and the mere urgency of need 
 was a sure passport to the inner citadel of her 
 tenderness. 
 
 She had already several cases of shy poverty, 
 as she termed them — needy sempstresses, broken- 
 down governesses, and even a bankrupt coster- 
 monger, who looked upon her as a sort of wingless 
 angel. A struggling artiste, a genius whose light 
 was obscured in a remote country town, appealed 
 at once to her imagination and heart. Here was 
 another human being who needed help and 
 guidance ; for, with the zeal of hasty conversion, 
 Constance had already repented of her momentary 
 lukewarmness. She remembered now that Regi- 
 nald had appealed to her, and asked her to befriend 
 Miss Carrick, and that her response had been 
 hardly satisfactory. Since then she had changed 
 her mind. She would do what Reginald had 
 wished her to do. She would extend the aegis of 
 her beneficence over the young violin-player ; she 
 would interest Harcourt in her ; their house should 
 be thrown open for her debict Constance, who 
 held charming little receptions in the season, was 
 not at all unwilling to furnish some novelty for
 
 A FIRESIDE CIRCLE. 41 
 
 her guests. The more she reflected the deeper 
 grew her enthusiasm, and when Violet arrived the 
 next morning, she was half amused and half pro- 
 voked to find that Constance could talk about 
 nothing but Miss Carrick and her wonderful 
 playing. 
 
 " She is a natural genius ; she only wants good 
 training," she remarked, almost with solemnity. 
 " She almost made me cry. I thought about poor 
 Car, and the tears were absolutely running down 
 my cheeks. And did you see Felix's face } " 
 
 " No ; he had his hand over his eyes." 
 
 " Ah ! but I saw him ; he looked as though 
 some vision had come to him. I never saw such 
 an expression in his eyes before. Then he got up 
 and shook himself ; he did not think that I noticed 
 him, but it was a revelation." 
 
 "Of what?" 
 
 " How is one to explain .? " — rather thoughtfully. 
 " Felix is an enigma. But I do not want to talk 
 about him. Was your mother pleased with Miss 
 Carrick ? " 
 
 Then Violet frowned impatiently. "She was 
 quite enthusiastic until Cousin Tess damped her. 
 You know her tiresome way when she does not 
 take to people ; a little bit of praise, and then a 
 half-sneer and a good deal of fault-finding. She
 
 42 A FIRESIDE CIRCLE. 
 
 calls Miss Carrlck's style of playing affected and 
 exaggerated, and she will have it that she poses 
 for effect." 
 
 " Miss Wentworth is a Philistine. You may tell 
 her so if you like." 
 
 "Yes; but she has the thews and sinews of 
 war, and is terribly strong. And now mother has 
 quite changed her opinion. Miss Carrick has too 
 many mannerisms, she is rather conceited, she 
 gives herself airs, and so on. Don't you know 
 exactly how mother would echo every word that 
 Cousin Tess has said. It put me in such a rage 
 that I went out of the room." 
 
 "You ought to have stood up for poor Miss 
 Carrick. She is not in the least affected ; she is 
 a little stiff and reserved, perhaps, but she is really 
 very nice in her manners." 
 
 " What is the use of saying the same thing over 
 a hundred times } " returned Violet, wearily. " If 
 I get mother's ear for a moment, I can make her 
 believe anything ; but if Cousin Tess chooses to 
 contradict me, she veers round like a weathercock. 
 ' If dear Theresa be right — and she always is right — 
 then I must be wrong ' " — with a sad mimicry of 
 Mrs. Winter's tone. 
 
 " You poor darling ! how trying it must be for 
 you ! " — kissing her. " Well, never mind, we will
 
 A FIRESIDE CIRCLE. 43 
 
 circumvent the Empress " — one of their old names 
 for Miss Wentworth ; and thereupon she retailed 
 her little plan for Miss Carrick. 
 
 Violet listened with somewhat mixed feelings. 
 Constance was right, and Miss Carrick's talent 
 was far too good to be wasted on Grantham ; but 
 she would be sorry to lose her. She was already 
 interested in her, and was looking forward with 
 pleasurable anticipation to her next lesson. But 
 if it were for Miss Carrick's good — and then she 
 accused herself of selfishness, and threw herself 
 heart and soul into Constance's scheme. 
 
 "You know, Violet," Constance was saying at 
 this point, " Harcourt is so dear and kind that 
 he will do anything to please me. I dare say that 
 he would advance money for the training if I 
 have not enough in my private purse ; you see, it 
 would only be a loan, an investment, as I should 
 tell him, and Miss Carrick would repay it. He 
 did it once with Caroline Morgan ; you remember, 
 Vi, when we set her up in her school at Brighton. 
 It was rather a pull on us at first, and Harcourt 
 grumbled a little ; but she has paid us back every 
 penny. Her school is doing splendidly, and she 
 has two of her sisters to help her. Harcourt was 
 so pleased when I took him the money and read 
 him Caroline's letter."
 
 44 A FIRESIDE CIRCLE, 
 
 " I dare say Mr. Lorimer would help you." 
 
 " Oh, I should not ask Reggie/' returned Con- 
 stance, hastily. *• It is no business of his ; it would 
 not do for him to mix himself up in Miss Carrick's 
 affairs," 
 
 " I suppose not " — a little doubtfully. 
 
 "Reg is the last person in the world to be 
 consulted," was the decided answer ; " he is far too 
 soft-hearted and unpractical. He would not see 
 any reason why he should not put himself forward 
 to help Miss Carrick, and in his position it would 
 be so damaging." 
 
 Violet felt inclined to ask why, but some 
 inward doubt made her abstain from putting the 
 question. Of course, Constance knew best about 
 such things ; she had her brother's welfare so 
 much at heart, that she was not likely to make 
 mistakes. And now that he was a widower, and 
 the best match in the county, as Miss Wentworth 
 had once delicately put it in her hearing, it certainly 
 behoved him to be careful. 
 
 Violet grew a little weary of the discussion at 
 last ; her bumps of benevolence were not so largely 
 developed as Constance's. She endeavoured to 
 wind it up to a conclusion by cordially inviting 
 her to pay an early visit to the gable room, to 
 open negociations with Miss Carrick.
 
 A FIRESIDE CIRCLE. 45 
 
 " I think it will be best to talk things over with 
 her before we make plans that may come to 
 nothing," she said quietly. 
 
 And at this strong hint Constance reluctantly 
 changed the subject. Like other enthusiastic 
 people, she rode her hobbies a little long and 
 heavily. 
 
 After all, Violet's visit was a great success. In 
 the afternoon they drove out with the boys in 
 search of the sportsmen, and brought them back 
 in triumph to tea ; then followed one of those 
 delicious twilight hours which the quartette had 
 often enjoyed in old days, when they gathered 
 round the fire in the library ; but on this occasion 
 it was a quintette, as Reginald significantly in- 
 formed his brother-in-law. 
 
 " Could you not take yourself off somewhere, 
 Harcourt, and have a smoke } " he asked, with a 
 persuasive pat on the back. " Order him off. Con ; 
 you have him well in hand. He is an interloper ; 
 we want to be just the old quartette again, don't 
 we, Violet? I beg your pardon, I mean Miss 
 Winter." 
 
 But Mr. Wyndham refused to be turned out ; he 
 said he meant to stay and keep them all in order. 
 
 " What makes you and Violet so ceremonious ? " 
 asked Constance, innocently. "Why, you were
 
 46 A FIRESIDE CIRCLE. 
 
 actually apologizing to her just now for calling 
 her Violet ; it is so odd to hear you." 
 
 " I have no wish to be ceremonious with an old 
 friend and playmate," returned Reginald ; " but 
 Miss Winter always calls me Mr. Lorimer." 
 
 " Yes, of course," returned Violet, hastily ; " but 
 there is no formality in my feelings. One grows 
 out of such things, and we have seen so very little 
 of each other for the last few years." 
 
 " You began it," he half whispered. " I was so 
 surprised when you first mistered me ; it made me 
 feel quite small." 
 
 Violet coloured a little ; the subject embarrassed 
 her. It was foolish of Constance to make such a 
 personal remark. How well she remembered the 
 occasion, and the somewhat scornful surprise in 
 Lady Car's eyes, when Mr. Lorimer had addressed 
 her carelessly by her name ! From that moment 
 she had decided to put things on a different 
 footing. 
 
 "She does not recognize old friendships. She 
 will not approve of our intimacy," she had said to 
 herself, with a swelling heart. 
 
 She found it a little difficult to respond to Mr. 
 Lorimer's jesting remark. He was in a mischievous 
 mood — she could see that clearly; but Mr. Hamer- 
 ton came to her relief.
 
 A FIRESIDE CIRCLE. 47 
 
 "Upon my word, Reg, I think Miss Winter is 
 right, and one does grow out of these things ; 
 and in my opinion the change is for the better. 
 I remember the time — before Wyndham put in 
 his claim — when I took the Hberty of calling his 
 wife by her Christian name, but I stopped it on 
 her wedding-day. You will bear me out in that, 
 will you not, Mrs. Wyndham ? " 
 
 " I thought you dreadfully punctilious, and told 
 Harcourt so. I quite cried about it ; did I not, 
 dear ? And he only laughed at me. But I shall 
 always call you Felix ; you may be sure of 
 that." 
 
 "And I am infinitely obliged to you," he 
 returned, with a grave smile. " I have only you 
 and Reg in England to call me by my Christian 
 name. By-the-by, I must read you a letter of 
 Laura's about her son and heir ; I know it will 
 interest you." 
 
 "Yes, of course. And you must tell me about 
 Sophy too, and your brother Charlton. There 
 are a hundred things I want to ask you when 
 I get you to myself; but you and Reg are so 
 inseparable just now." 
 
 " You see, we have a community of interest ; we 
 are just now full of fire and fury, and bent on 
 shooting partridges. Even the charm of your
 
 48 A FIRESIDE CIRCLE. 
 
 conversation, Mrs. Wyndham, could not tempt me 
 to forsake Reginald." 
 
 " Ah, I know ! " she returned contemptuously. 
 " You are all the same, you men. Even Harcourt, 
 good as he is to me at other times, cannot be 
 induced to give me a moment of his society now. 
 Well, I will bide my opportunity " — significantly. 
 
 " Is it not time to dress ? " suggested her 
 husband, who had been all this time trying to 
 read his paper by a distant lamp ; but it took a 
 good deal of argument to induce Constance to 
 move. She liked the play of the firelight and 
 the desultory talk and small vague sentences, 
 alternating with silence. During dinner the 
 gentlemen always talked politics or argued with 
 Felix, but here in the gloaming the womankind 
 held the sway. Of course they were wasting 
 their time, as Harcourt said, and talking infinite 
 rubbish. Not altogether, though. For example, 
 Reginald was recalling a squirrel-hunt they had 
 had one autumn afternoon, and how he and Felix 
 had climbed the tree, while Constance stood below 
 weeping and wringing her hands for fear Reggie 
 would be killed. Certainly the branch had broken, 
 and he might have had an awkward tumble if it 
 had not been for Felix's presence of mind and 
 ready help. And did Miss Winter remember,
 
 A FIRESIDE CIRCLE. 49 
 
 pray, how she had scolded them all round, like the 
 veriest termagant, instead of rejoicing over his 
 escape ? 
 
 "You deserved to be scolded," returned Violet. 
 " It was cruel of you to frighten Constance in that 
 way ; and you know Mr. Hamerton said himself 
 that if you had fallen you must have been killed, 
 
 and if he had not caught you Well, we will 
 
 draw a veil over that." 
 
 " I shall not forget it, Felix," observed Constance, 
 ** and how grateful I was to you. Well, dear, what 
 is it? Must we really go? and we are all so 
 comfortable." But Mr. Wyndham's sole answer 
 to this appeal was to hold up his watch before her 
 eyes, and then she yielded and went off meekly 
 enough. 
 
 But that evening there were no politics discussed 
 — perhaps Violet's presence restrained them ; but 
 at dinner and afterwards it was still of the old 
 days that they talked, and Reginald and Felix 
 capped stories which Mr. Wyndham criticized and 
 annotated in his shrewd clever way. Only now and 
 then his eyes softened as they rested on his wife's 
 bright face. He had not been there. How strange 
 that sounded to him 1 Had there really been a 
 time in his life when the beautiful woman beside 
 him had not been the very heart of his heart? 
 
 VOL. II. 23
 
 50 A FIRESIDE CIRCLE. 
 
 And as though she guessed his thought, Constance's 
 hand stole into his under the cover of the table- 
 cloth. Married though they were, they were still 
 lovers, and could understand each other without 
 a word. 
 
 "You shall not feel yourself out in the cold 
 while we are telling our foolish stories" — that is 
 what her warm pressure told him. 
 
 " Harcourt is laughing at us. But it was before 
 your time, old man. We could not have got such 
 a rise out of Con if she had had you to back her. 
 There was not much fun when you began prowling 
 about the place ; even Miss Winter turned sober." 
 And then Reginald turned to Violet and asked 
 her if she had no special little reminiscence which 
 they had forgotten ; whereupon Violet exchanged 
 an amused look with Constance, and they both 
 laughed. 
 
 But it was in vain that the gentlemen pressed 
 her for an explanation ; she only shook her head 
 and laughed again. 
 
 "We must get to the bottom of this, Felix," 
 observed Reginald. " You are up in cross- 
 examination, and all that kind of dodge ; I think 
 I shall leave you to settle the business." 
 
 " There is not the slightest need for me to cross- 
 examine Miss Winter," returned Felix, looking at
 
 A FIRESIDE CIRCLE, 5 I 
 
 the girl meaningly. " I recollect the occasion 
 perfectly. Wyndham was expected that evening ; 
 it was Christmas Eve. You had been in an insane 
 mood all the afternoon, and had teased your sister 
 until she was almost beside herself Miss Winter 
 had been singing 'The Mistletoe Bough' to us, 
 and very likely that gave them the idea, but 
 Mrs. Wyndham suddenly electrified us with the 
 suggestion that she and Miss Winter should hide. 
 ' You will never find us, if you search from now 
 until midnight,' she said, * and the exercise will 
 do Reggie good.' " 
 
 *'To be sure; I remember now," interposed 
 Reginald. '' Don't cut it short, Felix ; let Wynd- 
 ham have it ; " and then Violet began to blush. 
 
 "Oh, I always finish a story* that I have 
 begun," returned Felix, coolly. "You had only 
 been engaged about a week, Wyndham, and were 
 cominor down to the hall for Christmas. It was 
 
 o 
 
 your first visit, and your fiancee was particularly 
 anxious that Reginald should be on his best 
 behaviour, and that you should be received with 
 fitting honours." 
 
 " And I came by an earlier train than I had 
 said." 
 
 "Yes; you arrived full two hours before you 
 were expected, and we were still searching for 
 
 LIBRARY
 
 52 A FIRESIDE CIRCLE. 
 
 Miss Winter. I believe Mrs. Wyndham had come 
 out of her hiding-place directly she heard the 
 door-bell, for she passed us looking very flushed, 
 and went into the drawing-room. Will you 
 continue the story, Mrs. Wyndham ? " 
 
 " Oh dear ! I was quite shaking with nervous- 
 ness," returned Constance, unable to keep silence 
 at this opportunity. " It was so dreadful meeting 
 Harcourt like that, and I did not dare tell him 
 that Violet was within hearing. I was too much in 
 awe of you then, dear, and I was afraid you would 
 think our game childish. I only felt I must get 
 you out of the room somehow. You were standing 
 just by the grandfather's clock, Harcourt, and I 
 could not induce you to move. I kept begging 
 you to come into the library and see Reg, but you 
 would not take my hints." 
 
 " Of course not. I wanted you all to myself, 
 and I only thought you were a little bit shy of 
 me," 
 
 "Yes; but it was most embarrassing for Violet 
 as well as myself, and there she was listening to all 
 your foolish talk." 
 
 " Indeed I was not ! " interposed Violet, in- 
 dignantly. " I had my fingers in my ears, and I 
 never heard a word." 
 
 " Well, I thought you did, and I was ready to
 
 A FIRESIDE CIRCLE. 53 
 
 sink into the ground ; and then I heard, or pre- 
 tended to hear, Reg calling me, and I ran away, 
 and Harcourt followed me, just as Felix entered 
 by the other door." 
 
 " I am to be allowed to finish, then," observed 
 Mr. Hamerton, as Constance ceased to speak. " I 
 had given up the search in disgust. I had beaten 
 over the whole area of the ground-floor, cupboards 
 and all, and Miss Winter was still invisible ; so I 
 threw myself down on a couch and took up my 
 paper, and then it was well I had no nerves, but 
 I certainly did jump when a voice from the grand- 
 father's clock addressed me, ' Do please unlock the 
 door, Mr. Hamerton, and help me out,' and there 
 was Miss Winter. To this moment I don't know 
 how you managed it." 
 
 " In the grandfather's clock ! " exclaimed Mr. 
 Wyndham, almost unable to believe his ears ; and 
 then he threw back his head and laughed. " Why 
 have you never told me, Constance ? Ah ! I under- 
 stand now why you seemed so embarrassed. But 
 how on earth could Miss Winter find room." 
 
 " Well, you see, it was under repair ; there were 
 no works, and even the face was removed. It was 
 a mere skeleton case, so she had plenty of air." 
 
 " Yes, but I was horribly cramped. I could not 
 have borne it five minutes longer. I thought once
 
 54 ^ FIRESIDE CIRCLE. 
 
 of putting my head through the hole and begging 
 to be released, but I was ashamed to appear in 
 such a guise before Mr. Wyndham ; besides, I 
 should have had to unstop my ears and open my 
 eyes." 
 
 Violet said this with such droll naivete that all 
 three gentlemen burst into peals of laughter, and 
 the merriment was still at its height when Con- 
 stance gave the signal to rise from table. 
 
 " I never thought we should have such an 
 amusing evening," she observed, as she and Violet 
 drew their low chairs to the fire. *^ Dear Reg is 
 quite himself to-night, and Harcourt does love to 
 hear those old stories. Felix put it very nicely 
 and delicately, but it was no laughing matter ; 
 Harcourt was not to be kept in order at all, and I 
 was so afraid you would hear his silly compli- 
 ments. Ah ! you think he is quiet ; he was never 
 a great talker, but when we are alone he is so 
 different." 
 
 " I always said you were the happiest woman 
 I know. I told Mr. Hamerton so this evening." 
 
 " And what did he say } " 
 
 " That you and Mr. Wyndham exactly suited 
 each other, and that a more satisfactory marriage 
 had never taken place. He spoke with so much 
 feeling ; you would have liked to have heard him."
 
 A FIRESIDE CIRCLE. 55 
 
 " Poor dear Felix ! " And then she said thought- 
 fully, " One ought to make large returns for so 
 many blessings. Sometimes when I am happiest 
 I feel as though I must go out and do good to 
 somebody ; as though it would be a safety-valve, 
 and would let off my surplus happiness. I have 
 more than my share," she added ; and now her 
 eyes were shining with feeling. " What do you 
 think, Violet ? Have I robbed any other woman 
 of her share.'* I hope not. But when I look 
 round on Harcourt and my boys and Reggie, not 
 forgetting dear old Felix and you and all my 
 friends, I almost tremble to think that I am 
 beginning my heaven on earth." 
 
 " You deserve it all, Constance ; you are the 
 most generous-hearted woman I know." 
 
 " Oh, don't praise me ! " — putting up her hands 
 imploringly. " Would you commend a traveller 
 who is walking well on a smooth road, with beau- 
 tiful prospects round him ? Harcourt and Reggie 
 praise me far too much for my soul's welfare, but 
 all this cannot last ; I must grow grey and old like 
 my fellows, and the troubles will come." 
 
 " Yes, dearest " — touched by the sadness on her 
 lovely face. " But when they come you will be 
 strengthened to meet them. I do not think I ever 
 heard you make such a foreboding speech before,
 
 56 A FJ RE SIDE CIRCLE. 
 
 but perhaps I have forgotten ; no one was ever less 
 morbid." 
 
 " Is it morbid to talk seriously ? You should 
 hear my conversations sometimes with Harcourt, 
 — on Sunday nights, for example, when we have 
 been to the Abbey service and have heard a grand 
 sermon. Indeed, we have always been like sisters, 
 and I don't mind telling you that the only trouble 
 I could not bear would be to lose Harcourt." 
 
 " You would bear that too, Constance, for your 
 children's sake." 
 
 " Should I } You speak very decidedly, but I am 
 not sure ; but it is the one thought that will intrude 
 even at my happiest moments — my very happiness 
 breeds it. But it is foolish to talk in this strain, 
 and they are all coming in. Go and sing some- 
 thing, only for heaven's sake let it be lively." 
 
 " What makes you so pale, love } " whispered 
 Mr. Wyndham, a little anxiously, as he made his 
 way to his wife's corner, while Mr. Hamerton and 
 Reginald joined Violet at the piano." 
 
 " We were only groping a little in the dark, 
 Violet and I," she returned softly. " Sit down by 
 me, Harcourt. Violet is going to sing to us, and 
 I like to have you near me. When the boys are 
 grown up and have gone out into the world, we 
 shall be a regular Darby and Joan, shall we not ? "
 
 A FIRESIDE CIRCLE. 57 
 
 He assented to this with a smile ; but her answer 
 had not satisfied him, and before he slept that 
 night' he made her tell him what she and Violet 
 had said, and when she had finished, he rebuked 
 her with grave tenderness. 
 
 " What faithlessness, my darling ! " 
 
 " But it is there — always the fear. Why does it 
 come, Harcourt ? You are so much stronger than 
 I ; you ought to teach me how to repel it." 
 
 " And what if the same fear assail me ? " And 
 as she looked at him wonderingly, he half smiled. 
 " It must always come to those who love intensely. 
 The fear is an integral part of love. Do not 
 disquiet yourself about it, my sweet wife. I shall 
 not be taken from you an hour sooner because 
 you have it ; neither shall I lose you a moment 
 before your allotted time. Now do you feel more 
 satisfied ? " 
 
 " I am always satisfied when I have you to talk 
 to me," she answered simply ; and before another 
 half-hour had passed she was sleeping as calmly 
 as a child. 
 
 " I shall not tell her Dr. Littleton's opinion," he 
 said to himself, as he went back to his dressing- 
 room to finish his letters. " It would be a shame 
 to cloud such perfect happiness ; besides, there is 
 no need to tell her."
 
 58 A FIRESIDE CIRCLE. 
 
 " Take care of yourself, do not overwork your- 
 self, and you may outlive me." Those were Little- 
 ton's words, and he meant them too. " A weak 
 heart. What does that signify ? Hundreds of men 
 have weak hearts. Moderate exercise, plenty of 
 work, and a quiet conscience, and I may make an 
 old man yet. God grant it for my wife's sake ! " 
 For it was of her he had thought when he went 
 to the clever specialist to ask him the reason of 
 some troublesome symptoms that had lately 
 troubled him ; of her, and not of the brilliant 
 future that his friends had prophesied for him. 
 
 Two years before he had made his maiden 
 speech in the House of Commons, and since then 
 he had been regarded as a rising man, and one 
 who would be invaluable to the members of his 
 party.
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 "I AM NOT FREE." 
 
 "Duties are ours, events are God's." 
 
 Cecil. 
 
 ITH all her good intentions, Mrs. Wyndham 
 found it somewhat difficult to carry out 
 her little scheme. Numerous engagements obliged 
 her to defer her visit to the Gate House. There 
 were shooting breakfasts, luncheons, and a dinner 
 to which she and her husband had been invited, 
 and it was ten days before she could secure a 
 leisure afternoon. 
 
 In the mean time Gloden had again accidentally 
 encountered the young master of Silcote Hall. 
 
 It happened in this wise. 
 
 Gloden had left the Gate House, and had just 
 turned out of the little lane into the Grantham 
 road, when she saw a young man in shooting- 
 dress walking down the middle of the road, with
 
 6o " / AM NOT free:' 
 
 his gun on his shoulder and two dogs following 
 him closely. At the sound of footsteps behind 
 him he turned, and to her surprise she saw it was 
 Mr. Lorimer. He pulled off his cap with a look 
 of unmistakable pleasure when he saw her, and 
 joined her at once. 
 
 "I am in luck to-day," he said genially, as 
 Gloden, perhaps to hide her shyness, stooped down 
 and caressed the dogs. " I have had capital sport 
 at the Gate Farm, and now I have the pleasure of 
 meeting you. We are going as far as Grantham 
 together, are we not ? " — as she seemed to hesitate 
 what to do next. But Mr. Lorimer seemed to 
 think it the most natural thing in the world that 
 they should walk on together, and as it did not 
 seem possible to get rid of him, Gloden resigned 
 herself to her fate. 
 
 " Don't you find that thing heavy } " he inquired, 
 with a glance at her violin-case. 
 
 But Gloden only shook her head with a dissent- 
 ing smile ; and, indeed, as he noticed her light 
 springy step and upright carriage, and the alert- 
 ness of her movements, there seemed no need to 
 offer his help. 
 
 "You have been to the Gate House, of course?" 
 
 " Yes ; I am always there two afternoons in the 
 week."
 
 / AM NOT free:' 6l 
 
 " I suppose you keep regular days ? " he observed 
 carelessly. 
 
 " Tuesdays and Fridays." Then Gloden felt as 
 though she had been a little indiscreet. " I give 
 Hilda Parry violin-lessons on Mondays and Thurs- 
 days," she said hurriedly. "The Parrys are so 
 kind ; they have promised to find me some more 
 pupils. 1 hope soon to be fully occupied." 
 
 "The work seems to agree with you," he returned, 
 looking at her a httle keenly. " You seem as fit 
 as possible ; ever so much better than when I 
 found you in the plantation. I never saw any one 
 so done up as you were that afternoon." 
 " I believe I was very tired." 
 " I should think so. Grantham seems to agree 
 with you, after all." 
 
 " Oh no ; please do not say so ! " for this was 
 more than Gloden could swallow. " If you only 
 knew how I hate it ! " Then, as he looked rather 
 surprised and disconcerted at the energy of her 
 tone, she went on apologetically, " Perhaps it is 
 horrid of me to say that when people are so kind 
 in finding me work, but if you only knew what 
 heimweh — real home-sickness meant, you would 
 understand how I long for Eltringham." 
 
 " Should you care to go back to it now t " he 
 asked in a sympathetic tone. He was not sorry
 
 62 '' I AM NOT free:' 
 
 to hear her speaking in this way. It showed that 
 under her coldness there was plenty of heart. She 
 had quite lost her prim manner, and was talking to 
 him as naturally as possible. 
 
 "You mean, should I care to go back with 
 strangers at the vicarage ? It would be painful, 
 of course, but I think I should choose the pain. 
 I would be willing to live in a cottage — a little white- 
 washed cottage on the green — if I could only wake 
 up every morning and find myself at Eltringham." 
 
 " By Jove ! you are fond of the place." And 
 then he stopped, and asked a little curiously, 
 "Were you thinking of Eltringham when you 
 played to us on Tuesday ? " 
 
 But as he put this question, the blood rushed to 
 Gloden's face. 
 
 " No," she said, rather shortly ; and then she 
 turned her head away and bit her lip. Why had 
 he asked her such a question } If he could only 
 have read the proud, ambitious thoughts that had 
 surged through her mind when she had commenced 
 playing ! Those wild yearnings that had infused 
 such pathos into the notes, those passionate 
 appeals and regrets, seemed to stretch and widen 
 into infinity. Could she give them a name ? How 
 was one to brand or label the immeasurable 
 cravings of the human soul ?
 
 " / AM NOT FREE." 63 
 
 Reginald felt somehow as though he had said 
 the wrong thing. 
 
 " I could not tell you that afternoon what I felt 
 about your playing. I believe " — with a laugh, 
 as though to hide deeper feeling — " that the music 
 fairly bowled me over. I had a fit of the blues 
 afterwards, for which I have to thank you, Miss 
 Carrick." 
 
 " Oh, I am so sorry ! " 
 
 "There is no occasion for you to be sorry. I 
 rather liked it myself, only it has filled me with 
 the desire to hear you play again. If I were to drop 
 in at the Gate House on Tuesday afternoon by 
 accident — the Winters are such old friends, and 
 are always glad to see me — would you play to us 
 again ? " 
 
 " You must not do that," she returned decidedly. 
 " My time is pledged to Miss Winter, and it is 
 no part of our programme that I should entertain 
 her visitors." She spoke with considerable firm- 
 ness ; and then her manner changed. " Please do 
 not expect me to do that, Mr. Lorimer. I think, 
 I am almost sure, that Mrs. Winter does not care 
 for my playing, and it would create awkwardness. 
 If there be any other opportunity, I shall be very 
 happy to play to you." 
 
 " Thanks awfully. I am quite sure lots of oppor-
 
 64 '' I AM NOT free:' 
 
 tunities will turn up, and then I will keep you to 
 your promise." 
 
 But he thought it safer policy to change the 
 subject. He supposed Miss Wentworth had 
 been ungracious ; he knew of old that it was 
 not always easy to gain her favour. Very 
 likely she had made up her mind to keep 
 Miss Carrick in her place, and not to encourage 
 Violet in any intimacy with her young music- 
 teacher. Perhaps she did not come into the 
 drawing-room at all, and he could hardly ask for 
 admission to the gable-room unless Constance 
 were with him. He must just wait and see what 
 turned up ; but on one thing he had fully made up 
 his mind — that Miss Carrick should play to him 
 again. 
 
 He was' astonished himself at the persistency 
 with which her playing haunted him. He had 
 wakened up one or two mornings w^ith those wild 
 melancholy strains sounding in his ears ; and not 
 only that, but her striking personality that day 
 had been a revelation to him. 
 
 Was she always transformed in the same way ? 
 When she played he wanted to hear her again, and 
 to answer his own question. He had not thought 
 her at all pretty, hardly good-looking, when he 
 had first seen her — only a pale, unhappy-looking
 
 / AM NOT free:' 65 
 
 girl with a proud, chilling manner. Not insigni- 
 ficant, certainly — Miss Carrick could never be that ; 
 but, compared to other women that he knew, to 
 Constance, to his own poor Car, to Violet Winter, 
 she was almost plain. 
 
 He looked at her now as these thoughts passed 
 through his mind, and he acknowledged that he 
 had been wrong in his first hasty criticism, and 
 that she was certainly not without her good points. 
 She was wonderfully graceful, and her face was 
 full of expression ; but she did not look as she had 
 looked that afternoon at the Gate House, with the 
 background of red silk curtains behind her, and the 
 glow of some strange beauty in her face. Then, 
 by an odd transition of thought, he wondered 
 what Car would have thought of her. He imagined 
 her sitting in his place, looking fair, calm, and 
 stately. " Good execution, but too many man- 
 nerisms for my taste, Reginald ; " he could almost 
 hear her say that. 
 
 " How is Harvey? " he asked, rather abruptly ; 
 for they were nearly in sight of Market Street 
 now, and Miss Carrick had become rather silent. 
 " By-the-by, I shall expect him to look me up next 
 Saturday." 
 
 " But you are engaged ; you have visitors," she 
 objected. 
 
 VOL. II. 24
 
 66 '' I AM NOT free:' 
 
 ** What of that ? " he returned airily ; " the more 
 the merrier — that is the motto at Silcote Hall. If 
 I had my own way, I would cram the house from 
 now to Christmas. Well, perhaps not this year " — 
 checking himself as he remembered this was hardly 
 a speech for a disconsolate widower to make — " but 
 most years. I am a very sociable person, Miss 
 Carrick ; I am fond of my fellow-creatures, and I 
 am especially fond of giving them a good feed." 
 
 "Yes ; but about Harvey, Mr. Lorimer," she said, 
 colouring, but keeping to her point, for she was 
 glad of having this opportunity of speaking to 
 him. "You are very kind to my dear boy, and 
 you made him so happy in giving him those 
 rabbits, but you must not encourage him too 
 much. Harvey is so young, he does not quite 
 understand. If you are too kind to him you will 
 win his affection, and then he will be always want- 
 ing to go to Silcote, and you will find him terribly 
 in the way." 
 
 *' Not a bit of it ; he and I understand each other 
 perfectly," was the blunt answer. 
 
 '' Yes ; but you must not be so kind," she per- 
 sisted, though her task was making her a little 
 nervous, and she was stumbling over her words. 
 " It is putting Harvey in a false position. You must 
 see that, under his present circumstances — in our
 
 *' / AM NOT free:' 6y 
 
 present situation" — correcting herself — "he must 
 not expect to be on terms of equality with people. 
 In the old days it was different, and people were 
 glad to know us ; but now Surely you under- 
 stand what I mean, Mr. Lorimer " — a little resent- 
 fully, for he did not show the least intention of 
 lielping her. 
 
 " I know you have been talking awful rubbish, 
 begging your pardon, Miss Carrick. Oh, I under- 
 stand what you mean well enough, but I am not 
 going to put it into words. You may just make 
 your mind easy about Harvey ; he is a fine little 
 chap, and I am going to see a good deal of him. 
 He is coming up to Silcote on Saturday, and I will 
 send him back in the dogcart. You are not afraid 
 to trust him with me ? " 
 
 " Oh no, of course not." 
 
 " All right. I was half afraid you were going to 
 say that next. What an awfully scrupulous person 
 you are. Miss Carrick ! Harvey and I are easy- 
 going, happy-go-lucky people, not your sort at all. 
 On second thoughts," continued Reginald, reflec- 
 tively, " your kind of conscience would not suit 
 ime ; it is too prickly. It would give me moral 
 indigestion. Ah ! here we are at Market Street, 
 and I am sorry to see you intend to leave me. Will 
 you let me step in and give Mrs. Carrick this brace
 
 68 " / AM NOT free:' 
 
 of partridges? I meant to have offered them to 
 you, but, on my honour, I dare not after this 
 amazing display of scrupulosity. I see plainly that 
 you intend to have nothing at all to do with me." 
 
 Then Gloden, for once in her life, acted on a 
 curious impulse, for she put out her hand palm 
 uppermost in a most suggestive way. 
 
 "If you really meant those partridges for me, I 
 will take them, and thank you very much, Mr 
 Lorimer; but you must not be so extravagantly 
 generous. Harvey brought back some beautiful 
 game from Silcote ten days ago." 
 
 " Did he ? I forgot that. Well, you are making 
 handsome amends for all the rubbish you talked ; " 
 and Mr. Lorimer's face brightened. It brightened 
 still more as Gloden thanked him with one of her 
 radiant smiles. 
 
 " Aunt Clemency," she said, a little breathlessly, 
 " I met Mr. Lorimer just now, and he has given 
 me these partridges ; he has just shot them. 
 Uncle Reuben will enjoy them ; he is so fond of 
 game." 
 
 " Yes, but he rarely tastes it ; beef and mutton 
 are more in our line. I don't call to mind that 
 the squire has ever sent us even a rabbit before ; 
 but it must be all along of Harvey." 
 
 " Of course it is Harvey, Aunt Clemency," re-
 
 / AAf NOT FREEP 69 
 
 turned Gloden, a little sharply ; and then she went 
 up to her room. 
 
 " Was I wrong to take them ? Was it forward of 
 me ? " she asked, tormenting herself in her usual 
 fashion. " But when he said that, that I meant to 
 have nothing to do with him, I could not help putting 
 out my hand for the birds. He is so kind that it 
 quite pains me to be so stiff and disagreeable ; but 
 I do it for the best." And she sighed ; for Gloden 
 was young, far too young to lead this self- 
 dependent, repressive life, and the youth within 
 her was beginning to clamour and rebel against 
 such unnatural conditions. 
 
 Another week passed. Harvey had paid a third 
 visit to the hall. There had been no further 
 present of game ; but Gloden was beginning to be 
 afraid that Harvey intended to spend all his 
 weekly holidays there, and that he regarded 
 Silcote as his private hunting-ground. The 
 Wyndham boys, young as they were, were ad- 
 ditional attractions to him, and when Mr. Lorimer 
 invited him to bring Bernard Trevor with him on 
 the following Saturday, Harvey's cup of bliss was 
 filled to the brim. 
 
 "Isn't it awfully jolly of him, Glow?" he ex- 
 claimed that evening, as they walked up and 
 down the best room in the twilight. This was an
 
 70 ** / AM NOT free:' 
 
 old habit. Harvey called it "prowling a bit.'* 
 They would walk up and down with arms inter- 
 laced, keeping step and talking hard, until 
 Gloden declared she was tired. " Bernard wants 
 to go dreadfully, only he says his mother does not 
 know Mr. Lorimer, because she never goes out. 
 Won't he be fine and pleased, as Aunt Clem is sO' 
 fond of saying } He will be ready to jump out 
 of his skin when I give him Mr. Lorimer's in- 
 vitation." 
 
 " Will his mother let him go t " 
 
 "Of course she will, like a shot. Bless you t 
 everybody ;in Grantham thinks no end of Mr. 
 Lorimer. The boys are as envious as possible 
 when they hear I am going to Silcote. Bob 
 Stourton — his father keeps the grocery stores, 
 Stourton Brothers, in High Street — he is a 
 mean, carneying sort of chap, and I can scarcely 
 keep my hands off him. Well, what do you 
 suppose Bob had the cheek to say yesterday > 
 Wouldn't I take him to Silcote just to see the 
 rabbits ? Catch me. Stourton Brothers, indeed ! '" 
 and Harvey gave a short derisive laugh. 
 
 "But, Harvey dear, our position is not much 
 better. Uncle Reuben says that Stourton Brothers 
 are so rich that they mean to retire. They have a 
 private house now near the Parrys', and there's
 
 "/ AM NOT free:' 71 
 
 some talk of my giving violin-lessons to the two 
 girls." 
 
 " Yes ; but they are awful cads. Do you think 
 Mr. Lorimer does not see the difference ? " 
 
 "Ah!^ but think of Uncle Reuben, Harvey." 
 She ought not to have said it, but the words 
 escaped from her involuntarily. 
 
 "Come now, I call that too bad, Glow," replied 
 Harvey, in an injured tone. "You are always 
 spoiling things for a fellow, and it is not fair, either. 
 Why, Stourton Brothers wear white aprons, and 
 you can see Stourton junior any day in the 
 butter department, slicing fat bacon for the old 
 women, and dropping his /is all over the shop. 
 And to compare them with poor old Uncle Reuben ! 
 It is not nice of you a bit, Antelope ; and as 
 for Aunt Clem, though she does talk about being 
 fine and proud, well, that is only her way, and 
 I am as fond of her as possible ! " cried the lad 
 bravely, only his cheeks were burning in the 
 darkness. " And if she isn't a lady like our own 
 mother, she is a lady in her way, and it is a grand 
 way, too." And Gloden had nothing to answer to 
 this tirade. 
 
 But, after all, it was Harvey who was nearer the 
 truth than Gloden, for Clemency's innate gentle- 
 ness and sweet old-fashioned notions made her at
 
 72 '' I AM NOT free:' 
 
 least a lady of the new kingdom, where reality, and 
 not its shadow, shall be the only coinage ; where 
 all disguises of mere rank or circumstance shall be 
 torn away, and in that goodly company of heaven's 
 aristocracy the first shall be last and the last 
 first. 
 
 By-and-by Mrs. Wyndham found her oppor- 
 tunity, and one afternoon, just as the violin-lesson 
 was over, and Gloden had opened Dante, there 
 was a knock at the door that Violet evidently 
 recognized, for she jumped up, exclaiming, "That 
 is dear old Constance ! " and brought her in 
 triumphantly. 
 
 She greeted Gloden with much cordiality, and 
 then settled herself cosily in the window-recess, 
 talking all the while. 
 
 "Is this not like old times, Vi? only Miss 
 Carrick is an interloper. Now, pray do not look 
 alarmed, Miss Carrick, for my visit is to you as 
 well as to Miss Winter, so, you see, you are not a 
 bit in the way. Were you going to read Dante ? 
 Never mind ; the gruesome old Florentine will 
 keep, and I want to talk to you instead, and this is 
 my first visit to the gable-room for a year and a 
 half at least. Do you remember that Reg always 
 would call it the " gabble-room," because he said 
 we did nothinsf but chatter in it } "
 
 "/ AAi NOT free:' 73 
 
 " One does not forget that sort of thing, 
 Constance." 
 
 " No indeed ; and you and Reg were such great 
 allies. Now, I am going to make a daring pro- 
 position. Do let us have tea up here instead of in 
 the drawing-room." 
 
 " By all means," returned Violet, easily. 
 '' Cousin Tess will be in a nice temper. She 
 always is when I order tea up here, but I often do 
 it. I have arranged a code of signals with Daw- 
 son. There ! " — as she manipulated the bell — " he 
 will know now that I want tea for three, and he 
 will send Dorcas up with it." 
 
 And Violet was right. Ten minutes had barely 
 elapsed before a neat-looking housemaid appeared 
 with the teatray. A low table was drawn to 
 the window-recess, and Constance examined the 
 cups with childish interest, gloating over their 
 quaint shape. 
 
 "The same dear old cups!" she said enthusi- 
 astically. 
 
 Constance was a clever strategist. She did not 
 at once open her mission. She waited until 
 Gloden seemed at her ease with her, and then she 
 approached the subject by judicious praises of her 
 playing. 
 
 "You have real genius, Miss Carrick," she said
 
 74 " / AM NOT free: 
 
 seriously; "you carried us all away the other 
 day. We were an appreciative audience, I can 
 assure you. Mr. Hamerton, who is no mean 
 judge, agreed with me that it was a sin and shame 
 to hide such a talent." 
 
 " Do you call this hiding it ? " returned Gloden^ 
 in surprise, but she was not a little gratified by 
 this warm commendation. " I think I am getting- 
 on famously. I have two pupils already, and I 
 expect I shall soon have more." 
 
 "Pupils ! Ah, I dare say! " exclaimed Constance^ 
 contemptuously ; " but fancy wasting such execu-^ 
 tion on a few Grantham young ladies ! You 
 must come to town. Miss Carrick, and go in for 
 regular training under Boski. You have heard him. 
 play, of course. He is what my brother would 
 call the boss of violinists, and then he is so strict. 
 He never takes a pupil whom he thinks will not do- 
 him credit, and the mere fact that Boski has given 
 you lessons will be a brilliant recommendation in 
 itself" 
 
 " I have no doubt you are right, Mrs. Wynd- 
 ham, and I am a devout admirer of Boski ; but his. 
 lessons are among the good things that are not 
 for me." 
 
 *'But that is nonsense," returned Constance, 
 speaking so exactly like her brother that Gloderk
 
 / AM NOT FREEr 75 
 
 quite Started ; she seemed to hear him say again, 
 " You have been talking awful rubbish." " You 
 may have your good things too if you will only 
 open your hands widely enough. Let me finish 
 what I was saying, and we will discuss details 
 afterwards, I am quite sure that a year under 
 Boski would enable you to play at concerts, but 
 of course he would settle all that. You would 
 have to take lodgings in town. I know of some 
 nice rooms near Regent's Park, not at all dear, 
 kept by an old servant of mine. Mrs. Drake is 
 such a nice woman. She has a permanent lodger, 
 an old lady who pays her well, and then she has 
 these two other little rooms. You would not be 
 too far from Boski's there — he lives in Connaught 
 Square. It would be just a nice little walk, and 
 I would come and look after you and introduce 
 you to some nice people ; so you would not be 
 dull. Besides, Boski would insist on six hours* 
 practice a day, so you would really have no time 
 to mope." 
 
 " May I say a word now, Mrs. Wyndham ? "" 
 asked Gloden, humbly, but there was a contu- 
 macious sparkle in her eyes. 
 
 " No, not yet ; you shall have your turn pre- 
 sently, and I have not quite finished. Of course,, 
 you are going to tell me that Signor Boski's terms
 
 •je *'/ AM NOT free:' 
 
 are exorbitant. So they are for rich people, but he 
 H very generous with his poorer pupils, and is 
 always willing to lower his price for them ; he is 
 far more anxious for his pupils to do him credit 
 than to make money out of them. He is a great 
 friend of mine, and I know what a generous- 
 minded man he is." 
 
 "I have always heard so" — in a low voice. 
 
 " Then you have heard the truth ; and I have 
 only to introduce you in my own way, and I 
 will guarantee that he takes an interest in you. 
 The want of means, my dear Miss Carrick — you 
 see, I am speaking very frankly — need not deter 
 you in the least ; my husband and I would arrange 
 that. It would be a safe investment. You would 
 make your debitt at Princes' Hall, and then at 
 •our house ; engagements would flow in, and you 
 would very soon repay us. Come, is this not a 
 grand programme for your future ? " 
 
 " It is indeed," returned Gloden, but she spoke 
 in a dreamy manner. Mrs. Wyndham's glowing 
 •description had roused a tumult within her. Why, 
 this was one of her old air-castles that she had 
 built so long ago, and it was impregnated with 
 the scent of lilies and the sweet spicy breath of 
 the pine-woods. How often she had closed her 
 eyes and seen herself standing, violin in hand, on
 
 " / AM NOT free:' yy 
 
 the platform of some crowded concert-room — at 
 St. James's Hall, for example, or at the Crystal 
 Palace, with Manns' baton in hand below her — she 
 could hear the applause, the bravos, and the clap- 
 ping of hands. "The celebrated young violinist, 
 Gloden Carrick " — that is what they called her. 
 Perhaps there would be a bouquet or a wreath 
 flung at her feet, but that would be in the evening. 
 " Oh, I beg your pardon ! " — waking up to the fact 
 that there was dead silence, and that both Mrs. 
 Wyndham and Violet were looking at her curiously. 
 " I did not mean to be rude, but your words made 
 me think about so many things." 
 
 " That is what I want you to say — that you will 
 think about it very seriously. I hope you do not 
 think me interfering, Miss Carrick, but I am so 
 used to help people ; and they never mind me — 
 they know it makes me so happy." 
 
 "You are very kind — you are more than kind, 
 and I am ever so much obliged to you." And then 
 Gloden stopped, and there was a great softness in 
 her eyes. It seemed to her at that moment that 
 in all her life she had never seen such a lovely 
 face as the one before her, and surely she was as 
 good as she was beautiful. 
 
 *' Then you will let me help you ? " — with graceful 
 entreaty.
 
 yS " / AM NOT FREEV 
 
 '' I would let you help me if I could accept help 
 from any one, but there are other hindrances 
 beside my pride. You tempt me very strongly, 
 Mrs. Wyndham. The life you describe is one that 
 I should love, and, though perhaps I ought not to 
 say it, I do not think that I should have disap- 
 pointed your expectations ; but I am not free to 
 choose my life." 
 
 " Not free, my dear Miss Carrick ? " 
 
 " No. I have my young brother to consider. 
 I have promised my father — I promised it when he 
 lay in his coffin — that I would never leave Harvey; 
 on his death-bed he committed him to me as a 
 sacred charge. I said then that I would keep 
 near him, that I would find some way for our 
 being together as long as he needed me ; but I said 
 more than that afterwards. This is why I am 
 living at Grantham, though I hate my life here, 
 because I am too poor to make any sort of home 
 for him ; because it is better for him that I live 
 in this way. But perhaps by-and-by, when he is 
 older and I have formed a connection, we may still 
 have a home of our own." 
 
 " Could it not be arranged for Harvey to come 
 to town too ? " asked Mrs. Wyndham, but she 
 spoke with some hesitation. " Perhaps Mr. Carrick 
 would be chargeable for his nephew's mainte- 
 nance ? "
 
 / AM NOT free:' 79 
 
 " Impossible ! Not for worlds would I ask him ; 
 he and Aunt Clemency would be shocked at the 
 mere idea. They are old-fashioned people, and 
 have such limited ideas; and then they are so fond 
 of Harvey — it would be so cruel to propose to take 
 him away; besides — oh, there are so many besides! 
 — Harvey would be miserable in London. He is a 
 country boy; he likes plenty of space and freedom, 
 and though he looks so well he is not strong ; more 
 than once we have been anxious about him. No, 
 no ; if everything else were arranged — Signor 
 Boski's lessons, Harvey's maintenance, and my 
 ■own — I could not doom my poor boy to London 
 lodgings." 
 
 " I did not expect all these difficulties," sighed 
 Mrs. Wyndham. She was grievously disappointed, 
 but even she could not say that Gloden was 
 wrong ; on the contrary, she admired the girl for 
 her resolution and devotion to her brother. " We 
 could not have the boy on our hands too," she 
 said afterwards to Violet. " Harcourt would have 
 put down his foot at once, and rightly too. We 
 might have got him into Merchant Taylors', per- 
 haps. Dr. Morton would have helped us, but 
 he is a delicate-looking boy, and I am afraid 
 the underground railway and small lodgings 
 would not have suited him ; but it does seem
 
 80 " / AM NOT FREEr 
 
 such a grievous pity that Miss Carrick should 
 be sacrificed." 
 
 *' Perhaps she will not always be sacrificed," 
 returned Violet; "and after all she is doing the 
 right thing." 
 
 " Have you really made up your mind to the 
 impossibility of my scheme ? Is there no loophole 
 left, no glimmer of hope ? " asked Constance, 
 when Gloden rose as though to close the con- 
 versation. 
 
 ''There is no loophole that I can see," she 
 returned ; but she was very pale now, and there 
 were tears in her eyes. " But, all the same, I shall 
 always feel grateful to you for your generous 
 proposal ; so few people would have interested 
 themselves in a stranger." 
 
 "Ah, but all people are not Constance," ob- 
 served Violet, with an affectionate glance at her 
 friend. "You will know what she is one day. 
 Miss Carrick." And then they both accompanied 
 Gloden to the top of the staircase. 
 
 "I don't wonder she interested him," said Con- 
 stance half to herself, as Gloden looked back at 
 them with one of her brilliant smiles. " There is 
 something very unusual about her ; she somehow 
 takes hold of one." 
 
 " Of whom are you speaking } " asked Violet a
 
 / AAf NOT FREE » 
 
 8l 
 
 ilittle inquisitively, as she bent over the balus- 
 trades. 
 
 But Mrs. Wyndham was prudent, and did not 
 explain herself; for " Speech is silvern, and silence 
 is golden," thought Constance. 
 
 VOL. II. 
 
 ^5
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 GABRIELLE DE BRIENNE. 
 
 I have a room wherein no one enters 
 Save I myself alone ; 
 There sits a blessed memory', on a throne, 
 There my life centres." 
 
 Christina Rosetti, 
 
 |ELIX, I want to ask you a question." 
 
 "Excuse me for one moment, Mrs, 
 
 Wyndham. If you will allow me to ring the bell 
 and despatch these letters, I shall be ready to 
 answer a score of questions." 
 
 " Ah, very well," returned Constance, carelessly ; 
 " finish your business first. There is 'not the least 
 hurry, but, as I have been as quiet as the tradi- 
 tional mouse for the last hour and a half, I thought 
 I might break the silence." 
 
 "You have been as good as gold," returned Mr.
 
 GABRIELLE DE BRIENNE. 83 
 
 Hamerton, as he addressed his last envelope, 
 "and you shall have your innings presently. I 
 have been dull company for you this afternoon, 
 but I will make up for it by-and-by ; " and he 
 gathered up his letters and business documents, 
 with a word or two to the servants, while Con- 
 stance laid aside her knitting and looked thought- 
 fully into the fire. 
 
 It was a damp, cheerless afternoon in October. 
 There had been rain earlier in the day, never- 
 theless the squire and Mr. Wyndham had driven 
 out some miles to join a shooting-party at Combe 
 Lea ; but the morning post had brought Mr. 
 Hamerton such a budget of business letters, that 
 he had been compelled to remain at home. 
 
 With the exception of a brisk constitutional 
 with Rex and Ninian as his companions, he had 
 been writing most of the day, and, as he came 
 forward to the fire, he stretched out his arms with 
 a gesture of mingled weariness and relief, and 
 sank in the easy-chair v/ith the air of a man who 
 had earned repose. 
 
 " How tired you look, Felix ! and yes, I think — 
 I am sure — that you are thinner. Harcourt says 
 you work far too hard." 
 
 " Does he } " — rather indififerently. " I will get 
 myself weighed when I go back to town. I
 
 84 GABRIELLE DE BRIENNE. 
 
 wonder what sort of a bag he and Reginald are 
 making ? Fancy losing a day at Combe Lea 
 because of that confounded Brabazan case ! It 
 is hard lines, isn't it, Mrs. Wyndham ? " 
 
 "I suppose I ought to sympathize with you, 
 but, you see, I am the gainer. I have never got 
 you alone for a single minute, Felix, and I do 
 so want to talk to you. We never have one of 
 our cosy chats now." 
 
 Then he smiled at her, but made no answer. 
 He was quite content to sit there in the yellow 
 firelight, watching the branches of the elms sway 
 to and fro, while the damp leaves pattered down 
 on the grass. He loved October, dry or wet, crisp 
 or humid ; he loved the mellowness and the soft- 
 ness, and the full flavour of the late autumn days 
 with their suggestive melancholy, and perhaps the 
 touch of frosts toward night that warns of the 
 coming winter ; and he loved, too, the com- 
 panionship of the fair-faced woman who sat oppo- 
 site to him, and he was quite willing that she 
 should discourse to him in her cheerful, bright 
 way. Perhaps she wanted to talk to him about 
 Rex. He and Reginald were fellow-sponsors, and 
 he took a great deal of interest in the boy ; indeed, 
 both the little lads were dear to him. But Con- 
 stance's next speech gave him a shock ; it might
 
 GABRIELLE DE BR2ENNE. 85 
 
 have been a hand-grenade, it routed him so 
 effectually. 
 
 " Felix, we arc old friends — chums, as you men 
 call it, and I want to ask you a question. Have 
 you ever been in love ? " 
 
 He was so astonished that he sat up erect in his 
 chair and stared at her ; but Constance, who was 
 watching him closely, saw that he had turned a 
 little pale and caught his breath. 
 
 " Dear friend," she said very softly — and nothing 
 could be more caressing than her manner — " don't 
 think me horrid for asking the question so bluntly ; 
 but you know how much I have your interest at 
 heart. I do not think Laura and Sophy could 
 be more anxious for your welfare. And I have 
 so often wondered why you are so averse to 
 matrimony." 
 
 " All men do not marry," he returned, defending 
 himself somewhat lamely ; but the firm lips 
 twitched a little nervously, and he did not look at 
 her as he spoke. " You know I think you almost 
 perfect, Mrs. Wyndham, and you have full liberty 
 to speak to me as you choose ; but if I could 
 bring myself to accuse you of a fault, it is that you 
 are too anxious about your friends." 
 
 *'You are putting it very kindly, Felix. You 
 mean I am an interfering, match-making woman,
 
 S6 GABRIELLE DE BRIENNE. 
 
 and in a way you are right. I must meddle in my 
 friends' affairs, and try and put them right. If I 
 love people, their interests are mine. I cannot 
 separate myself from them. Harcourt often 
 lectures me about it. He calls it abandoned self- 
 indulgence, an over-exuberant sympathy;" and 
 then she stopped, and looked in his eyes, as he 
 slowly raised them to her. " Tell me all about it, 
 Felix ; our old friendship gives me the right to 
 ask. Who is she, and where did you meet her ? " 
 
 " Mrs. Wyndham " — and then he tried to laugh, 
 but it was a failure — " are you a witch } Who has 
 put such a suspicion into your head? Have I 
 ever dropped a word that could lead you or any 
 one to imagine that I am not a whole-hearted 
 bachelor 1 " 
 
 " Never," was the frank answer. " You have 
 always been cheerful and even-tempered, and your 
 thoughtful moods are as much a part of your 
 nature as Reggie's light-heartedness belongs to 
 his. No word or look has betrayed you until 
 this moment, when my abrupt question took you 
 by surprise, and you were not quite ready with 
 your answer." 
 
 "Then why " he began, but she interrupted 
 
 him. 
 
 " It is not easy to say how the surmise has
 
 GABRIELLE DE BRIENNE. 8/ 
 
 arisen. I think it was a chance word of Reggie's ; 
 he looked rather solemn one day when I was talk- 
 ing about you." 
 
 " I can assure you, Mrs. Wyndham, that, in spite 
 of our close friendship, Reginald and I have never 
 spoken on this subject. He has often chaffed me 
 ■on my supposed hard-heartedness ; lots of my 
 friends have done that. A bachelor is a fair target 
 for married men's jokes." 
 
 " Nevertheless, I am sure Reggie guesses some- 
 thing," returned Constance, gravely, "though 
 he would be angry with me for hinting at such a 
 thing. But why are we wasting time like this, 
 Felix ? You will tell me, will you not, about this 
 old trouble. For trouble there is, and must be ; 
 I am certain of that now." 
 
 And thus hardly pressed, Felix yielded up his 
 secret. To no one else would he have told it, 
 except to this woman, who had taken a sister's 
 place to him ; and, strange to say, as the seal 
 of silence was removed, and his lips spoke the 
 beloved name, the heaviness of that hidden burden 
 that he had carried so many years seemed to 
 lighten strangely. 
 
 And this was the substance of what Felix 
 Hamerton told that October afternoon, while 
 twilight faded into dusk, and then into darkness.
 
 GABRIELLE DE BRIENNE. 
 
 And Constance listened in that moved sympa- 
 thetic silence that is more eloquent than words. 
 
 It was during that long summer wandering 
 seven years ago that he had encountered his fate ; 
 when the fair face of Gabrielle de Brienne had first 
 flashed on him, for whose dear sake he was in- 
 different to all other women. 
 
 He was staying in the little village of L , 
 
 tired out with alpine climbing, and in the mood for 
 a few days' perfect rest and idleness in one of the 
 most delicious of Swiss valleys. 
 
 The tiny hotel where he put up was full of 
 guests, but he managed to secure a small room, 
 and, having unpacked his portmanteau and re- 
 freshed himself, he sauntered idly through the 
 gardens and across a rustic bridge leading to some 
 overhanging woods, which clothed part of a ravine ; 
 beyond these were glorious peaks, clad in eternal 
 snows. The whole scene was superb, idyllic, per- 
 meated — nay, saturated with beauty, and as he 
 crossed the little bridge, a curious thought came 
 into his mind. " If I ever marry," he said to him- 
 self, " I will bring my bride here ; it is just the- 
 spot for honeymooning." And then he laughed at 
 his own thoughts, for the busy young barrister was 
 fancy-free, and the woman who was to be his help- 
 mate had not yet entered the Eden of his youth.
 
 GABRIELLE DE BRIENNE. 89- 
 
 A little path led upward through the wood, and 
 here and there rustic seats had been placed for the 
 use of the climbers ; but the irony of fate led him 
 aside from the beaten track to explore a little 
 glade, that looked to him wonderfully inviting. 
 
 A sort of archway of tangled branches admitted 
 him to the dell, which was a mere clearing ; but 
 nature, with lavish hands, had embellished it with a 
 thousand flowers, and there, standing under a 
 ladder of sunbeams filtered through the tree- 
 tops, like some glorified youthful angel crowned 
 with yellow sunshine, was a slim girl in white^ 
 who looked at him with grave dark eyes, as he 
 stood there for a moment almost petrified with 
 surprise, for he had thought himself alone in the 
 woods. 
 
 And afterwards, he told Constance, that picture 
 haunted him, and became to him like a waking 
 dream. It would flash upon him suddenly as he 
 talked and jested with other women. The tiny 
 glade, with its flower-spangled grass, and the sun- 
 beams playing on the girlish, uncovered head ; he 
 could see every fold of her white gown, and even 
 the bright clasp at her waist. Her hands were full 
 of flowers ; but what struck him more than the un- 
 conscious grace of her attitude, was the grave, 
 quiet penetration of those dark eyes. And yet
 
 ■go GABRIELLE DE BRIENNE. 
 
 how momentary it had been ! Surely he had not 
 lingered more than a few seconds before raising 
 his cap. With a muttered apology he had turned 
 away and begun climbing the ravine, but after a 
 while he had desisted. He was breathless, and 
 some feeling of curiosity made him pause and 
 descend the ravine again. He would return to the 
 hotel ; he had had enough fatigue for one day. 
 He would loiter in the gardens until it was time 
 for table dhote. 
 
 If he expected to see the white-robed nymph 
 cross the little bridge to the chalet, he was disap- 
 pointed ; he had the gardens to himself. But as 
 he seated himself at table beside an acquaintance, 
 a lively American widow, he saw her a little lower 
 down. She was sitting between a good-looking 
 young man, evidently a Frenchman, and a fragile, 
 pretty woman in gay attire. They were all talking 
 and laughing together. Once their eyes met, and 
 she blushed slightly, as though she recognized 
 him ; but she did not look his way again. Now 
 and then a low sweet laugh reached his ear, but 
 he could hear that their conversation was carried 
 on in French. 
 
 " Who are those people, Mrs. Brandon } " he 
 asked of his neighbour, as they went out into the 
 garden to enjoy the sight of the mountain peaks
 
 GABRIELLE DE BRIENNE, 9 1 
 
 bathed in the moonlight, and he looked significantly- 
 after the three retreating figures. " Garde tu, ma 
 petite," he heard the gentleman say tenderly, as 
 the young girl stumbled slightly over a fragment 
 of rock in the path ; " pas si vite, Gabrielle." 
 
 " Oh, that is the Comte de Brienne and his wife 
 and sister. She is an American. I knew her 
 slightly before she was married, when she was 
 Valeria Grant ; she calls herself Valerie now. 
 She was a pretty creature, and the New Yorkers 
 went mad about her. They were mad after 
 another fashion when she took up with a French 
 count ; but they are pretty devoted to each other." 
 
 " And that young lady is his sister 1 " 
 
 " His step-sister. Yes ; she is Mademoiselle 
 Gabrielle de Brienne. She has just finished her 
 education, and they have taken her out of the 
 convent. I dare say he intends to find her a 
 husband as soon as possible. She is really a 
 charming girl — spirituelle, but rather gentle and 
 dreamy ; the nuns are to blame for that. Valerie 
 is another sort ; she has chic — you know what 
 I mean. I guess she makes her husband pretty 
 mad at times ; " and Mrs. Brandon nodded her 
 head knowingly. 
 
 " I wish you would introduce me," he said a 
 little eagerly.
 
 92 GABRIELLE DE BRIENNE. 
 
 And Mrs. Brandon promised with ready good 
 nature to do so ; but either she forgot her promise 
 or she lacked opportunity, for she left the next 
 day without giving Felix the introduction he 
 desired. The whole of that day he saw nothing 
 of the comte and his party — they were absent on 
 some excursion, and did not return until late — 
 but just as he was dropping off to sleep, he was 
 roused by voices that sounded as though they 
 proceeded from the balcony outside his window^ 
 " Good night, Valerie ; sleep well, ma pauvre, if 
 thou canst. Take the best of care of her, Etienne. 
 Good rest to you both, my dear ones." Those low 
 sweet tones belonged to Mademoiselle de Brienne ; 
 he would have sworn to them anywhere. 
 
 The next morning they were invisible, and, alas ! 
 he had no Mrs. Brandon to question. He ate his 
 dejeit7ier discontentedly, and strolled about some- 
 what aimlessly. He had his book with him, but 
 he did not read. The mountain air, the dazzling 
 snow-peaks, seemed to intoxicate him, and dispose 
 him for mere idle dreaming ; he was in that 
 dangerous state of bodily indolence and mental 
 activity when any excitement would be welcome. 
 
 Later in the day he was returning from a walk 
 down a steep little road, which he had discovered 
 would bring him by a short cut to the chalet^
 
 GABRIELLE DE BRIENNE, 93 
 
 when he caught sight of a slender figure in grey- 
 standing beside a wayside cross, and looking 
 up at the rude painted figure of the Christ with 
 tender, reverent eyes. Under the straw hat he 
 saw the gleam of golden brown hair. It was 
 Mademoiselle de Brienne. He raised his hat and 
 would have passed her, but she turned round 
 and looked at him almost appealingly, and he 
 involuntarily stopped. 
 
 "Is it possible that you need my assistance, 
 mademoiselle?" He addressed her in French, 
 and her face at once brightened. 
 
 "That is kind, monsieur," she returned, with 
 childlike naivete and frankness. " You are English, 
 and I speak the language so badly. Will you 
 have the kindness, the infinite kindness, to 
 direct me to the chalet? I have missed my 
 path and am lost." As she spoke the last word 
 she threw out her hand with an eloquent little 
 gesture. 
 
 " With all the pleasure in life, mademoiselle. I 
 am going back myself, and will conduct you. 
 This is a short cut to the chalet. If we take that 
 path, we shall be in the ravine where I saw you 
 yesterday. But" — an after-thought occurring to 
 him — **the path is too steep and difficult ; we had 
 better take the lower road ; " for, with masculine
 
 94 GABRIELLE DE BRIENNE. 
 
 cunning, he was determined to prolong the walk 
 as much as possible. 
 
 But the convent had not taught Gabrielle to 
 comprehend mannish wiles, so she answered with 
 the utmost faith and credulity, " If monsieur be 
 good enough to be my guide, I must leave the 
 route to him." At which Felix did feel momentarily 
 ashamed of himself; but the temptation was too 
 strong, the pleasure of looking into those lovely 
 eyes too great, and after an instant's hesitation he 
 determined on taking the lower road. 
 
 Mademoiselle de Brienne accompanied him 
 willingly. She was not at all shy, and answered 
 his questions with perfect frankness ; the word 
 " spirituelle " that his American friend had used 
 was exactly suited to her. There was a gentleness 
 and a freshness about this young girl that was 
 almost indescribable. The purity and gravity of 
 the cloister still lingered about her, but every now 
 and then the natural joyousness of her young life- 
 seemed to break in upon her sedateness ; at such 
 moments she was charming. To Felix Hamerton 
 she was a revelation. He had never imagined this 
 delicate and unique type of girlhood ; the dark 
 eyes and pure oval of her face, and her pale olive 
 complexion, appeared to him his ideal of feminine 
 beauty. She was evidently very young and
 
 GABRIELLE DE BRIENNE. 95; 
 
 undeveloped, but the years and life would soon 
 ripen her, the slender figure would round and fill 
 out ; but as he looked at her he thought that no 
 change could improve her. 
 
 Before long he knew all that there was to know 
 about her. She was eighteen, so Etienne had 
 taken her away from the convent. Etienne was 
 her brother, the Comte de Brienne. He was the 
 best and dearest brother in the world. Had 
 monsieur spoken to him ? Valerie was not French, 
 or Catholique ; she was an American, and Etienne 
 had fallen in love with her beauty. Ah ! she was 
 droll at times, this dear Valerie, but one could not 
 help loving her. 
 
 How was it she had strayed away so far from 
 the chalet .'* Would not the comte be annoyed ? 
 This was Felix's next question ; but Gabrielle 
 only shook her head with a sigh. 
 
 Doubtless monsieur was right. Etienne was 
 careful with her — he had always a view to the 
 proprieties; but Valerie was by no means strict. 
 But Etienne would not know of her escapades — he 
 was miles away ; a sudden business had called 
 him to Paris. 
 
 "To Paris! Is it possible.^ Do you mean,, 
 mademoiselle, that he has left you behind ? " 
 
 But yes. How could it be otherwise ? Had not
 
 96 GABRIELLE DE BRIENNE. 
 
 monsieur heard what had happened yesterday — 
 how Valerie had sh'pped in the ravine over a loose 
 rock, and had hurt her foot? It was all black 
 and swollen, and Lisette, her maid, had informed 
 them that madame had not closed her eyes all 
 night for the pain. Could monsieur conceive such 
 iristessef The poor Etienne had gone off so 
 unhappy ; when anything ailed Valerie he was 
 miserable. 
 
 " But he will return, mademoiselle." 
 
 Ah, yes, he would return — in a week or ten days 
 at the most, and then they must go back to 
 Brittany, where they had their home. Etienne 
 would have liked to live in Paris, but he always 
 said he was not rich enough. "That is because of 
 me, monsieur," she continued simply," and because 
 of the two little sisters, Foinette and Marie, who 
 are still at the convent." 
 
 "Are you not glad to see the world, mademoi- 
 selle .'* " he asked gently. 
 
 " Yes, truly, monsieur ; but all the same I cried 
 when I left, and the good sisters cried too. I was 
 their child, do you see, and I had been there so 
 long — ever since mamma died ; for what could 
 Etienne do with three little sisters when he was 
 fighting for his country? It is startling at first to 
 •have one's freedom, and to see people; but when I
 
 GABRIELLE DE BRIENNE. 97 
 
 go to sleep at night I am always back in the old 
 convent garden, among the tall white lilies, that 
 are the flowers of our lady, and always I seem to 
 hear the tinkling of the bell calling us to the 
 chapel. But, monsieur, will not the chalet be in 
 sight ? You must be fatigued with all this foolish 
 talk." 
 
 "Is it too far? Have I tired you?" he ex- 
 claimed anxiously, for this idea had not occurred 
 to him before, and he fancied that she looked a 
 little weary. "Will you sit down, mademoiselle, 
 on that fallen log, and rest a while ? " 
 
 But she shook her head. " You must not tempt 
 me, monsieur ; Valerie will be so anxious. She 
 charged me not to go too far. When Valerie gets 
 anxious about any one she cries, and then Etienne 
 is angry ; he does not like her to shed a tear." 
 
 " But if I have tired you, mademoiselle, I shall 
 never forgive myself," returned Hamerton, in such 
 a remorseful voice that Gabrielle smiled. 
 
 " Why should you speak in that way ? " she 
 said. " It is not your fault or mine that the road 
 is so long ; but indeed I did not know it was so far. 
 At the convents our walks were not long, and 
 there were no hills to climb and to put one out 
 of breath." 
 
 " Courage, mademoiselle ; I see the roof of the 
 
 VOL. II. 26
 
 98 GABRIELLE DE BRIENNE. 
 
 chalet between the trees," he observed in a 
 relieved tone. " Shall we take this by-path ? it will 
 bring us to the little glade where I saw you first." 
 
 " Ah, ciel ! how you startled me that day ! " she 
 exclaimed, with her low laugh. " I was in a dream. 
 I was back in the convent garden among the bee- 
 hives, and Sister Therese was droning — droning 
 out of her big book ; and then something crackled, 
 and there you stood, monsieur, framed in green 
 leaves, as though it were your fete day, and you 
 looked as though you had seen a ghost or a pixie." 
 
 "Or a woodland nymph — one of Diana's 
 maidens," he replied gravely. " Now give me 
 your hand, mademoiselle ; this is a difficult bit of 
 the path " — and as she laid her warm soft palm 
 in his, Felix felt a singular throb at his heart. 
 
 At the bridge he left her, and went back to the 
 little glade and threw himself upon the grass. 
 " Gabrielle," he murmured to himself — " Gabrielle. 
 So that is her name, and it fits her to a nicety ; " 
 and then he recalled every look and every word 
 she had spoken. " I have never seen any one like 
 her," he finished, as he pulled himself together 
 and returned to the chalet ; " she is so grave and 
 sweet and innocent, so childlike and impulsive, 
 and yet she is womanly, too." 
 
 At table d'hote he watched anxiously for her, but
 
 GABRIELLE DE BRIENNE. 99 
 
 she did not appear, and he heard afterwards that 
 she had taken her meal with the comtesse, whose 
 accident confined her to her room. The next 
 morning he lingered in the gardens and ravine, 
 but Mademoiselle de Brienne was invisible ; but 
 after the late dt^jetme)' he encountered her in the 
 corridor leading to the salon. She wore her white 
 gown and a little black lace fichu, with a knot of 
 crimson flowers, the whole toilette appeared 
 charming to him. A blush came to her face when 
 she saw him, but she evidently expected to be 
 addressed. 
 
 " Good morning, mademoiselle. I trust you 
 have recovered from your fatigue yesterday, and 
 that Madame la Comtesse is progressing well." 
 
 " Thank Heaven, yes, monsieur ; the poor foot 
 is less swollen and inflamed. Lisette, and that 
 kind Madame Carruthers — how should one pro- 
 nounce a name so difficult? — had improvised a 
 couch in the salon, and Pierre had carried the poor 
 Valerie in his strong arms. It was better for the 
 dear sufferer to be in the salon ; it was so airy, and 
 she could talk to people and forget her foot. 
 Valerie wishes to thank you, monsieur, for your 
 goodness to me yesterday," finished Gabrielle ; 
 " she saw you in the garden before dejeuner. Is 
 it your pleasure that I make the introduction t "
 
 lOO GABRIELLE DE BRIENNE. 
 
 " Certainly, mademoiselle ; it would gratify me 
 much to be presented to madame." 
 
 And then Gabrielle gravely and with much dig- 
 nity introduced the infatuated young man to the 
 salon, where the fragile, bright-eyed countess lay 
 in a nest of Indian shawls on a couch. 
 
 She held out her hand to him with a brilliant 
 smile. 
 
 " I am pleased to make your acquaintance, Mr. 
 Hamerton. You are a friend of Mrs. Brandon, 
 are you not? I saw you talking to her at table 
 d'hote. You were very good to bring my runaway 
 home yesterday ; she was a naughty child, and 
 strayed too far. Yes, Gabrielle cherie, you were 
 as mechante as possible. I was in a terrible 
 fright. My husband has put her in my charge, 
 and she has only left her convent three weeks, and 
 is like a child learning to walk alone. Ah, what 
 an absurd education for a woman ! Do you not 
 agree with me? But I suppose it is treason to 
 say so. There, Gabrielle, Mrs. Carruthers is waiting 
 for you, and Mr. Hamerton is going to amuse me 
 a little. We are compatriots, or at least nearly 
 so ; " and, dismissing her with a light kiss on either 
 cheek, the voluble little countess went on with 
 the conversation.
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 YOU HAVE MY BEST WISHES, MONSIEUR.' 
 
 '* Stay, stay at home, my heart, and rest — 
 Home-keeping hearts are happiest ; 
 For those that wander they know not where 
 Are full of trouble and full of care : 
 To stay at home is best." 
 
 Longfellow. 
 
 ALERIE COMTESSE DE BRIENNEwas 
 
 certainly a fascinating little person. Under 
 other circumstances Mr. Hamerton would have 
 found his tete-a-tete decidedly amusing, but her 
 abrupt dismissal of Gabrielle somewhat discon- 
 certed him, and it cost him some effort to conceal 
 his chagrin. 
 
 Perfectly oblivious of his slight constraint, 
 Madame de Brienne chatted on in her free 
 American way. She was a clever little person, 
 and had considerable humour — esprit, as her
 
 I02 *• YOU HAVE MY BEST WISHES, MONSIEUR?' 
 
 Parisian friends called it ; there was something 
 nafve in her thorough satisfaction with herself and 
 her surroundings. 
 
 "I guess that I have made a lucky hit," she 
 had said, when she informed her immediate circle 
 in New York that she had accepted the handsome 
 French count. " Etienne is just mad about me, 
 and I calculate that I shall make it last." And 
 Valerie kept her word, for the Comte de Brienne 
 literally idolized his sprightly but fragile wife. 
 
 She adapted herself with wonderful ease to her 
 change of circumstances, and took intense pride 
 and pleasure in beautifying the old Brittany 
 chateau. She delighted in hearing herself 
 addressed as Madame la Comtesse, and secretly 
 adored her husband. She showed a great deal 
 of kindness to his step-sisters, and refused to 
 understand the ill-natured hints of Mademoiselle 
 Stephanie de Brienne, that it was a pity that her 
 nephew should be saddled with the maintenance 
 of three step-sisters. "You will find out the incon- 
 venience for yourself, Valerie," she added grimly, 
 " when Gabrielle is old enough to leave the con- 
 vent, and Etienne has to provide her trousseau 
 and dot with your money." But if Valerie winced 
 at this plain speaking, she put a good face on it. 
 
 "She is terrible — this old Aunt Stephanie of
 
 " VOCr HAVE MY BEST WISHES, MONSIEUR:' IO3 
 
 yours, Etienne," she said, with a grimace, when 
 mademoiselle had left the chateau ; " she puts 
 my teeth on Qdgt with her sour speeches." 
 
 *' Pauvre petite ! " observed the comte, tenderly ; 
 " but we must have patience. Mademoiselle has a 
 high spirit ; she is a great lady ; she never forgets 
 that she is a de Brienne." 
 
 " I am de Brienne too," returned the little 
 comtesse, stoutly, on which the comte kissed her 
 hand ; " but she shall not set me against those 
 poor dear girls just because they are poor, and we 
 have to maintain them. What if it be my money ?" 
 continued Valerie, recklessly ; " it is yours too ; 
 we have nothing separate, have we, Etienne?" 
 
 *' Mon ange ! Your generosity is admirable, and 
 I — I am the happiest of men. What do we care 
 for Mademoiselle ma Tante? She is Catholique, 
 but you, my Valerie, are the better Christian, and 
 the saints will bless your goodness to those poor 
 children." 
 
 " Chut ! You will turn my head, my friend, with 
 all these compliments." But Valerie's bright eyes 
 were slightly moist. Ah ! well, she loved power ; 
 her role pleased her. She had no children of her 
 own — not yet, but perhaps one day that happiness 
 might be given to her. It was not a difficult part to 
 carry bon-bons and cadeaux to the convent, and to
 
 104 '' YOU HAVE MY BEST WISHES, MONSIEUR:' 
 
 be almost smothered in kisses in return. " See how 
 Madame la Comtesse loves these poor little ones" 
 — that was what the good nuns said to each other. 
 
 Madame la Comtesse, with her sprained, ban- 
 daged foot, was in need of amusement. The hotel 
 was emptying fast, and a clever young English 
 barrister was not to be despised. Valerie loved 
 society, and, though she no longer flirted, Etienne 
 did not like it ; her cleverness and vivacity made 
 her very attractive to men, and she accepted their 
 homage as her right. 
 
 To his delight, Mr. Hamerton soon found him- 
 self on intimate terms with Madame de Brienne. 
 Her helpless condition made his assistance indis- 
 pensable. He could fetch and carry; offer his arm 
 when, with the aid of a gold-headed stick, she 
 managed to hobble to the salle a manger or to a 
 garden-seat; and, as Gabrielle was always with her, 
 he could enjoy her society without stint or limit. 
 
 Madame de Brienne's free American notions 
 were very far removed from the traditional Parisian 
 etiquette. Mademoiselle's scanty grey hairs would 
 have stood on end if she could have watched the 
 trio ; that Gabrielle should be conversing with an 
 unmarried man ; that she should saunter about the 
 garden and even in the ravine under his guardian- 
 ship would have seemed inconceivable to her.
 
 ** YOU HAVE MY BEST WISHES, MONSIEUR.'' I05 
 
 "'When the cat is away ;*" how runs the good 
 old proverb ? Perhaps her husband's absence 
 made Valerie a little reckless. " What is the poor 
 child to do," she said to herself ; " I cannot chain 
 her to my couch. These French notions are 
 absurd — antiquated. Mr. Hamerton is a gentle- 
 man, his people are good, he is quiet and gentle, 
 one can trust him. When Etienne returns he can 
 take Gabrielle about with him, and then there will 
 be no need for Mr. Hamerton. Why should she 
 lose her holiday for an idea, a bubble, a paltry 
 French sentiment?" And it was in this way that 
 madame washed her pretty little hands of all 
 possible mischief. 
 
 The count was detained in Paris, and more than 
 a fortnight passed — an enchanted fortnight to Mr. 
 Hamerton ; while to Gabrielle ? Alas for her, that 
 a sweet new light had begun to dawn in those 
 lovely eyes ; while the mere sight of the quiet 
 young Englishman would bring a vivid blush to 
 her cheek. They were always together at dejeimer, 
 at dinner, and even when they drank their coffee 
 on the balcony. In the fresh dewy mornings he 
 knew where to find her — in the little chapel half- 
 way up the road, above the chalet. Sometimes he 
 would saunter up the hill to meet her, as she came 
 down, looking pure and sweet in her white gown,
 
 I06 " VOC/ HAVE MY BEST WISHES, MONSIEUR." 
 
 with her missal in her hand. At other times he 
 would steal into the dim scented chapel, and watch 
 her kneeling at her devotions. It did him good 
 only to look at her. They were not of the same 
 church, and yet he longed to kneel beside her, and 
 join those pure petitions. 
 
 '* Of what sins could she accuse herself?" he 
 thought, when he saw her approaching the con- 
 fessional. The sight made him angry, and drove 
 him away ; and then his brow cleared as he softly 
 quoted Tennyson's words — 
 
 *' I know her : the worst thought that she has 
 Is whiter even than her pretty hand ;" 
 
 for he felt, with a lover's unreasoning instinct, that 
 he could have staked his all on the purity and 
 goodness of this young girl, of whose existence 
 three weeks ago he had not been conscious. Yes, 
 he loved her — he knew it now — with the whole 
 strength of his nature ; and, if possible, he meant 
 to win her for his wife. And why should it not 
 be possible ? As far as Gabrielle herself were con- 
 cerned, he would have no difficulty. He could not 
 be blind to the fact that already there was strong 
 sympathy between them ; they talked less, and 
 the silence between them was often unbroken. 
 She grew shyer with him, and sometimes her voice
 
 " yO[/ HAVE MY BEST WISHES^ MONSIEUR:' lO/ 
 
 trembled. Yes, he could make her love him — he 
 was sure of that. 
 
 Would the Comte de Brienne countenance such 
 a marriage for his step-sister? True, the difference 
 in their religion was an obstacle ; but he thought 
 it might be got over. He was not a religious man 
 himself, he owned with compunction ; possibly the 
 comte might be equally worldly, as he had allied 
 himself with a Protestant. He need not consider 
 this point. If Gabrielle married him, she should 
 be free to worship as she liked. 
 
 Then as regarded other matters. She was poor 
 and dependent on her brother ; her dot would be 
 small. She could not expect to make a great 
 match. He had some private fortune of his own, 
 and his prospects were good. He could offer his 
 wife every comfort, and an entrance into the best 
 society ; he thought even the Comte de Brienne 
 need not look down on him. On the whole, he 
 was far from hopeless. 
 
 That day, as they strolled together through the 
 ravine, he talked much about himself and his 
 earlier life. He drew a vivid portraiture of his 
 sisters Laura and Sophy, and of his only brother 
 Charlton ; and he explained to her, smiling a little 
 to himself at the naive ignorance she displayed on 
 all practical matters, the nature of his profession, 
 and his plans for the future.
 
 I08 " YOU HAVE MY BEST WISHES, MONSIEUR:' 
 
 '* I shall marry. It is always best for a man to 
 marry," he said rather hurriedly ; " and I am 
 domestic, and should like a fireside of my own." 
 
 " Monsieur should please himself, certainly ; " 
 but she turned aside as she spoke to break off a 
 flowering branch beside her, and he could not see 
 her face. 
 
 " You think I am wise, that my circumstances 
 would warrant such an intention ? " he persisted, 
 somewhat foolishly it must be owned, for what 
 could this convent-bred child know of such 
 things ? 
 
 " Monsieur is the best judge of his own circum- 
 stances," she said shyly ; " to me," she continued, 
 laughing a little over the wonder of being con- 
 sulted, " monsieur seems rich, fabulously rich — 
 n'est ce pas." 
 
 " No, mademoiselle ; but I have enough for 
 comfort, and it seems to me" — looking at her 
 downcast face — " that we are alike in not caring 
 about money." 
 
 " I have never had money, monsieur, in the 
 convent. We did not need it ; and now Valerie is 
 so kind she gives me all I want. If I ask for 
 anything it is mais oui certainement, as though it 
 were the most natural thing. Such generosity 
 makes one ashamed."
 
 '' YOU HAVE MY BEST WISHES, MONSIEUR." IO9 
 
 " I should love to give you things, made- 
 moiselle." He said it almost under his breath ; but 
 she heard it, and a blush overspread her face, but 
 she made no answer. " Perhaps I ought not to 
 have said that," he continued, and there was soft- 
 ness in his tones ; " but sometimes you seem such 
 a child to me." 
 
 " But I am not a child, monsieur," she whispered. 
 
 " I know that. Please forgive me. If you knew 
 how I reverence you, Mademoiselle Gabrielle " — her 
 name escaping him in his excitement. " I want 
 you to do something for me." 
 
 " For you ? " — lifting her dark eyes to his 
 face. 
 
 ** Yes, for me. We are friends, are we not ? 
 great friends, so I trust. Will you take my hand 
 and say that you wish me success — that you hope 
 my dearest wish on earth may be fulfilled ? I 
 think it will be a good omen for my future if you 
 could tell me that." 
 
 She stood for a moment hesitating, as though 
 she were doubtful of his meaning. *' Is that all ? " 
 she asked at last, in a low voice. 
 
 " It is all that you can do for me at present." 
 
 " But it is such a bagatelle," she returned, trying 
 to laugh. But his repressed agitation communi- 
 cated itself to her, and he could see that she was
 
 no '' YOU HAVE MY BEST WISHES, MONSIEUR." 
 
 trembling ; her very fingers were fluttering as she 
 placed her hand in his. 
 
 " You have my best wishes, monsieur. May le 
 bon Dieu give you your heart's desire. Have I 
 said that rightly .? " 
 
 " You have said it perfectly ; thanks a thousand 
 times. Now we must go back to madame ; " for 
 he was afraid of himself — afraid that if he remained 
 longer with her, he might be tem.pted to speak 
 more openly of his hopes. His heart's desire ; did 
 she guess what that was } He had no means of 
 knowing, for Gabrlelle did not open her lips again ; 
 and the moment they entered the garden she left 
 Felix to make his way alone to the seat where 
 madame was reclining, and took refuge in the house. 
 
 " What have you done with Gabrielle .^ " asked 
 madame, a little inquisitively, as she looked up at 
 him. "She has sped across the grass like a 
 frightened fawn." 
 
 But Mr. Hamerton returned an evasive answer ; 
 he had an idea that Madame de Brienne guessed 
 at his infatuation for her young sister-in-law, and 
 did not discourage it. He wondered if it would 
 be well to make her his confidante, and get her 
 to plead his cause with her husband ; but before 
 he could make up his mind on this point, she 
 began another subject.
 
 *• YOU HAVE MY BEST WISHES, MONSIEUR." Ill 
 
 " I wanted to speak to Gabrielle ; she would be 
 so pleased. My husband is returning to-night ; 
 he will arrive late, and perhaps he may bring a 
 friend with him, the Comte D'Arcy. They are 
 old friends, and have fought in the same regiment. 
 He was Etienne's colonel " 
 
 " And the comte returns to-night ? " He felt a 
 sudden pang as he said this. Their time of freedom, 
 of happy wanderings, of careless surveillance was 
 over. Gabrielle would now be always under her 
 brother's wing. The Comte D'Arcy would be a 
 bore ; he almost felt vexed at madame's radiant 
 good-humour. She was delighted at the prospect 
 of seeing her husband again, and had made a 
 brilliant toilette in honour of the occasion. 
 
 " My husband seems in high spirits," she con- 
 tinued. " He speaks of having something very 
 pleasant to communicate to me, to enliven my 
 fete day. He is mysterious ; perhaps he has some 
 wonderful cadeau. I have never met Count D'Arcy. 
 La comtesse died last year, and he was in retire- 
 ment. He has a fine estate in Normandy. Etienne 
 has often spoken of it." 
 
 She talked incessantly in this strain, until Felix 
 made an excuse to leave her. In the corridor he 
 came upon Gabrielle ; she was standing at a 
 window, looking at the snow-peaks with the last
 
 112 '' YOU HAVE MY BEST WISHES, MONSIEUR^ 
 
 pink glow lingering on them. She wore a jewelled 
 cross at her neck that had belonged to her mother, 
 and the rubies shone redly on her white dress as 
 he stepped up to her. She started and would 
 have moved away, but he detained her. He must 
 keep her by him a moment. After this evening 
 they would not be alone together. 
 
 " Mademoiselle — Gabrielle " — he separated the 
 words involuntarily — " there is something I must 
 tell you. Madam has just informed me that the 
 comte is to arrive this evening." 
 
 " Etienne ! but that is good news. Why do you 
 look so solemn, monsieur ? I shall be charmed to 
 see that dearest of brothers. Oh, how enchanted 
 Valerie will be ! " 
 
 "Madame certainly seems in wonderful spirits. 
 Your brother is to bring a friend with him, the 
 Comte D'Arcy." 
 
 Then Gabrielle's eyes began to sparkle. 
 
 " The brave colonel, who is Etienne's hero ? 
 But it will be adorable to see and perhaps speak 
 Vv'ith him. He is so brave ; once he saved Etienne's 
 life. Valerie must tell you that story, but it always 
 makes her cry. In the convent chapel Marie and 
 I have often prayed for him — for the brave man 
 who carried our dear wounded one out of the 
 battle. Once I gave him my intention. When
 
 " YOU HAVE MY BEST WISHES, MONSIEUR:' II3 
 
 one is grateful, monsieur, and has nothing else 
 to offer, one can always give one's prayers — * the 
 dews of charity,' as Sister Nathalie used to say, 
 ' which are drawn up to heaven, and return again 
 in showers of blessings.' Was she not right, 
 monsieur ? " 
 
 •* How can I tell ? " he replied a little hoarsely, 
 and his eyes fell under that pure glance; "but 
 doubtless you are right. I am glad my news has 
 pleased you ; for myself, I shall regret our pleasant 
 walks and talks. With your brother and the 
 Comte D'Arcy, I am afraid my society will be no 
 longer needed." 
 
 He tried to speak coldly, nay, indifferently, but 
 his eyes told another tale, and a deep glow spread 
 over the girl's face. 
 
 " One must always need one's friends. Why 
 do you speak as though you would be de trop, 
 monsieur? Etienne will be charmed to make 
 your acquaintance." 
 
 She spoke quickly, almost nervously, moving 
 away all the time. But he followed her closely, 
 and they reached the head of the stairs together. 
 
 " One moment before you descend, mademoiselle 
 — only one moment, Gabrielle.'* 
 
 And then, as she turned to him, steadying herself 
 by laying a hand on the balustrade, he put his 
 
 VOL. II. 27
 
 114 ''YOU HAVE MY BEST WISHES, MONSIEUR." 
 
 over it with a firm detaining grasp. " Tell me one 
 thing for my comfort — that you do not want to 
 get rid of me ; that you will always keep me for 
 your friend ? " 
 
 It was a declaration of love, said in those tones, 
 and her head drooped until her face was hidden. 
 
 " Speak, Gabrielle — just that word." 
 
 " I never want monsieur to leave us," she 
 whispered ; and then at the sound of footsteps 
 she almost tore her hand away. 
 
 " I am not wrong — she loves me," he muttered 
 to himself. " I will speak to the comte to-morrow." 
 
 When he entered the salle a manger half an 
 hour later, he saw at once that the travellers had 
 arrived. Madame was seated beside her husband 
 looking positively radiant, and on the other side 
 of Gabrielle was an elderly, weather-beaten man 
 with a grey moustache, who looked every inch a 
 soldier. 
 
 Madame la Comtesse made the necessary intro- 
 ductions, and both the gentlemen accosted Mr. 
 Hamerton with perfect civility and good breeding. 
 The Comte de Brienne thanked him for his polite 
 attentions to his wife. 
 
 " Madame tells me how much she is indebted to 
 you for your kindness, monsieur. She would have 
 been terribly ennuyee in this strange place without
 
 " YOU HAVE MY BEST WISHES, MONSIEUR:' II5 
 
 your friendly services. I am heavily in your debt, 
 Monsieur Hamerton." 
 
 " I am afraid the debt is all on the other side," 
 returned Felix, trying to appear at his ease ; and 
 then he glanced at Gabrielle. She was listening 
 attentively to something the Comte D'Arcy was 
 telling her. Her cheeks were flushed, her eyes 
 downcast, but she looked unmistakably happy. 
 But throughout the meal Felix never once heard 
 her voice. She was evidently too shy to venture 
 on any conversation with the hero. As soon as 
 dinner was over they all disappeared, and he saw 
 them no more that night. 
 
 The next morning he half made up his mind to 
 walk to the little chapel as usual, but a moment 
 later he saw Gabrielle pass under his window. 
 Her brother was with her. They seemed talking 
 rather earnestly, and she did not look up. Felix 
 took his walk in another direction, lost his way, 
 and came back heated and tired to find dejeuner 
 nearly over. Madame de Brienne, who was rising 
 from her place with her husband's assistance, 
 nodded to him with a smile. Gabrielle had perhaps 
 just quitted the table, and he sat down in no 
 pleasant mood to appease his hunger. Things 
 were not going well this morning ; as he had pre- 
 dicted, the arrival of the stranger had spoiled
 
 Il6 " YOU HAVE MY BEST WISHES, MONSIEUR." 
 
 everything. He had letters to write, which kept 
 him in his own roona for a couple of hours. When 
 he had finished he went down into the garden. 
 After strolling about aimlessly for a little, he 
 questioned one of the servants, and learnt from 
 him that the Comte de Brienne and his friend had 
 driven out ; he believed madame was with them. 
 
 " But not mademoiselle } " 
 
 No ; Pierre believed that la jeune demoiselle was 
 in her room. Would monsieur like to question 
 Lisette ? 
 
 But Felix could not take such a liberty. He 
 would only place himself where Gabrielle could 
 see him from the window. He had already dis- 
 covered that her room was near his. He would 
 read, or pretend to read, and perhaps by-and-by 
 there would be a shadow on the grass, and he 
 would see her standing before him in her white 
 gown, and some flowers in her hand — always some 
 flowers. " Monsieur, what are you reading ? " for 
 ever she would have some such question to put 
 to him. Oh, he could hear her voice so plainly ! 
 But he waited hour after hour, but she did not 
 come, and his heart began to feel like lead in his 
 breast. Was she ill ? Had anything happened to 
 vex her ? Why was she shutting herself up in her 
 room, and driving him to despair, instead of
 
 '' YOU HAVE MY BEST WISHES, MONSIEUR^ WJ 
 
 basking in the sunshine and the sweet air as 
 usual ? 
 
 When he heard the sound of wheels, he dragged 
 himself up moodily and went up to his room to 
 prepare for dinner. Thank Heaven ! they must 
 meet in half an hour, and even if he could not 
 speak to her, he would be able to see from her face 
 if anything troubled her, and afterwards, before he 
 slept, he would demand an audience from the 
 count. 
 
 What was his disappointment, then, when he 
 entered the salle a manger^ to see her empty chair. 
 He looked so pale and apprehensive that Madame 
 de Brienne, who was watching him, leant forward 
 and, under the cover of her husband's talk, said 
 in a low voice in English — 
 
 " My little sister has a bad headache, and we 
 have recommended her to rest. Come to me in 
 the garden presently. I have much to tell you 
 while the gentlemen take their walk ; " and then 
 she unfurled her fan and motioned away the soup. 
 " It is too hot to eat, my friend," she said, 
 addressing her husband. " It seems to me that we 
 shall have a storm presently, and the fear of it has 
 taken away my appetite." 
 
 " Is she not a coward, count ? " returned her 
 husband. '* Fear of a thunderstorm is thy last
 
 Il8 " YOU HAVE MY BEST WISHES, MONSIEURP 
 
 fancy, my Valerie. Shall I remain with you in 
 the garden, or will you take refuge with Gabrielle ? " 
 
 "Now you are laughing at me, Etienne," 
 observed madame, with a pout ; " and I hate any 
 one to laugh at me. No, no ; go — go with your 
 friend and finish your business. Mr. Hamerton 
 will take care of me ; is it not so, monsieur ? " 
 and she looked across at him with her brilliant 
 smile. 
 
 But Felix only responded with a bow. He 
 was not in the humour to indulge in harmless 
 badinage with the fascinating Valerie. His 
 thoughts were with the dark-eyed girl who was 
 suffering in her chamber above, or with Lizette's 
 kindly ministration. " May le bon Dieu give you 
 your heart's desire ; " he could hear her say that 
 over and over again.
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 A LOST PARADISE. 
 
 " That loss is common would not make 
 My own less bitter, rather more : 
 Too common ! Never morning wore 
 To evening, but some heart did break." 
 
 Tennyson. 
 
 "[W|R. HAMERTON, why are you so triste 
 MMM and bored this evening? Have your 
 English letters brought bad news ? " 
 
 Madame de Brienne put these questions in her 
 usual airy fashion, as she disposed of herself and 
 her laces comfortably on the balcony seat. Lizette 
 had just brought her out some light wraps ; but, 
 in spite of her gay insouciance, an unprejudiced 
 observer would have detected a slight uneasiness 
 in Valerie's manner. 
 
 " My domestic budget has been perfectly satis- 
 factory," returned Felix, striving to appear at his
 
 120 A LOST PARADISE. 
 
 ease, but failing signally. " How have you passed 
 the day, madame ? " 
 
 "To tell you the truth, Mr. Hamerton, it has 
 seemed like three days rolled into one, so much 
 has happened in it. What do you suppose is the 
 wonderful piece of news that my husband has 
 brought } It has almost taken my breath away. 
 Etienne is so impetuous ; if he thinks of a thing, 
 it is already done. He was like that in his court- 
 ing — ' Take me or leave me ; but if you leave me, 
 I shall blow my brains out.' That is the sort of 
 wooing that makes a woman sure of her own 
 mind. Oh, these De Briennes are terrible ! Their 
 yea is yea with a vengeance." 
 
 "And the news?" 
 
 " Oh, the news " — and Valerie's voice was a little 
 shrill, as though it were not quite under her 
 command — " is nothing more or less than the 
 betrothal of Mademoiselle de Brienne to the Comte 
 D'Arcy ; voila tout, monsieur." 
 
 For one moment, one insupportable moment, 
 there was dead silence ; the solid ground beneath 
 Felix's feet seemed to rock ; and then, in a voice 
 that sounded strange to himself — 
 
 " Are you jesting with me, madame ? " 
 
 "Mon Dieu, should I jest on such a subject? 
 Etienne's sister, too. Alas, no ; it is a fact ac-
 
 A LOST PARADISE. 1 2 1 
 
 complished, it was arranged in Paris. They were 
 all there — Mademoiselle Stephanie and the Mar- 
 quise de Beauvilliers. She is Count D'Arcy's 
 sister. It is a brilliant match ; my husband is 
 enchanted. Think of a man like Comte D'Arcy 
 wishing to ally himself with our little one, who has 
 no special beauty, at least at present, and whose 
 dot will be so insignificant ! No wonder my poor 
 little sister is overwhelmed." 
 
 " Good heavens, madame ! " exclaimed Felix, in 
 a tone that betrayed inward torture. *' Is this 
 what you call a marriage ? That child who has 
 but just left her convent, and a man old enough 
 to be her grandfather." 
 
 " Fie, Mr. Hamerton ; you are exaggerating. 
 The comte is not sixty yet ; and he is a fine-looking 
 man. True, he is a widower, but he has no 
 children; he is a kind-hearted gentleman, and a 
 brave man. He will treat Gabrielle with the 
 utmost tenderness. Do you think Etienne would 
 give his cherished little one to a monster? The 
 comte is his friend. In old days they were in the 
 same regiment. Comte D'Arcy saved my husband's 
 life ; he carried him out of the battle under fire. 
 Etienne is devoted to him ; he says nothing has 
 ever pleased him so much as this marriage." 
 
 " One moment, madame. Has Mademoiselle de
 
 122 A LOST PARADISE. 
 
 Brienne consented to this monstrous arrange- 
 ment ? " 
 
 "You talk strangely, Mr. Hamerton ;" and Valerie 
 drew herself up a little stiffly. " But perhaps your 
 English notions make it difficult for you to under- 
 stand. Gabrielle is a good, obedient child. She 
 adores Etienne ; his will is law to her. She re- 
 verences the Comte D'Arcy ; it is part of her 
 family creed. To me she confided that she had no 
 wish to marry ; so many girls say that. The 
 subject agitated her, but she knew better than to 
 remonstrate. And the comte was very gentle with 
 her ; his manners are perfect. In spite of his grey 
 hairs, any woman could lose her heart to him." 
 
 " Am I to understand, madame, that mademoi- 
 selle is not permitted a choice in her own destiny? " 
 Felix's words came thickly through his dry lips. 
 
 " Gabrielle is quite resigned to her brilliant lot," 
 returned madame, rather pettishly. 
 
 She was a kind-hearted little person, and hated 
 to inflict pain ; and this sombre young Englishman, 
 with his pale face and fierce eyes, seemed to 
 reproach her as though she were the author of 
 his unhappiness. Why had she not been more 
 strict in her surveillance ? He has lost his heart 
 to Gabrielle. It was a pity, certainly, but he would 
 get over it. Etienne would not have entertained
 
 A LOST PARADISE. 1 23 
 
 his suit for a moment ; he was ambitious for his 
 sister. Gabrielle was not striking at present, but 
 she held the prospect of future beauty. 
 
 " I have been talking to her for more than an 
 hour," she went on ; " until she told me that I 
 made her head ache. The comte is adorably 
 generous ; he will make magnificent settlements. 
 He has a fine estate in Normandy, and a suite of 
 apartments in Paris that are truly superb ; and he 
 intends to refurnish her rooms in the chateau. He 
 already regards her with true affection." 
 
 " Madame, why have you permitted us to be so 
 much together ? Could you not see ? " and then 
 he stopped, almost choked with his emotion. 
 
 Then Valerie started, and two burning spots 
 came into her cheek. 
 
 "Mr. Hamerton, for Heaven's sake be careful, 
 or you will get me into trouble with my husband. 
 I was careless ; I meant no harm. How could I 
 guess what was in Etienne's mind ? We had not 
 discussed Gabrielle's marriage. She is so good ; 
 she is a little angel of patience and resignation ; 
 she would not grieve us for worlds. If you value 
 my peace — her peace — ah, what am I saying? — 
 the peace of a happy united family, go away, and 
 leave us together. I am selfish ; I ask too much, 
 perhaps ; but you do not know the De Briennes.
 
 1 24 A LOST PARADISE. 
 
 Etienne is proud ; he has a high spirit. He would 
 not permit an Englishman to love his sister, or to 
 talk to her ; he would regard it as an insult. The 
 De Brienne women hear of love first from their 
 husbands." 
 
 In her misery she laid her small feverish hands 
 on his arm. It was evident that Valerie was in 
 grim earnest for once in her life. Her reckless 
 disregard of family traditions might cost her and 
 Gabrielle dear. Perhaps she was selfish in her 
 fear, but she was nevertheless very sorry for the 
 young man. 
 
 ** Very well, I will go ; but I must see her first," 
 he began ; but Valerie gave him a little push. 
 
 " Hush ! they are returning, my husband and 
 the comte. Go into the house. I want Lisette ; 
 she must bring more wraps — anything — everything. 
 They must not find us talking like this. Another 
 shawl ; yes — go — go ! " 
 
 She stamped her tiny foot in her impatience, 
 and Mr. Hamerton reluctantly went on her 
 bidding. He found Lizette, gave her the order, 
 and went up to his room. He was still numb and 
 dizzy with the blow he had received, and which 
 the irony of fate had dealt him ; the walls of the 
 chalet seemed to suffocate him ; but he must be 
 near her this one night more !
 
 A LOST PARADISE. 1 25 
 
 As the thought passed through his mind, the 
 faint gleam of something white at the far end 
 of the corridor attracted his attention. The end 
 where he stood was dark, but the moonlight 
 illumined the upper part. Could it be Gabrielle } 
 It moved, and then stood still. His heart began 
 to beat more quickly ; the painful stricture of the 
 throat relaxed, and he drew his breath more 
 freely ; then he walked noiselessly up the corridor. 
 
 It was Gabrielle, but she was absorbed in her 
 thoughts and did not hear him. Was she at her 
 devotions? Her hands were crossed over her 
 bosom, and her lips were moving. She looked 
 paler — etherealized in the white light, and there 
 was a great sadness in her beautiful eyes. 
 
 "Jamais — ^jamais. Oh, mon Dieu, must it be 
 so?" he heard her murmur. But at his softly 
 uttered " Gabrielle " she turned and extended her 
 hands to him. 
 
 " It is you, monsieur. I saw you with Valerie ; 
 she has been telling you. Oh ! " for his grasp hurt 
 her, and she was looking in his face as though she 
 saw something there that pained her. 
 
 "Yes, I have heard. Gabrielle, for God's sake 
 tell me if you are happy ; if your brother's arrange- 
 ment pleases you. You have been weeping ; your 
 eyes are swollen. Gabrielle, my dearest, will you
 
 126 A LOST PARADISE. 
 
 not refuse to marry this man, who is old enough to 
 be your father ? " 
 
 " Oh, hush, monsieur ! " and she strove to 
 disengage herself, casting a frightened glance 
 behind her, but he held her hands too tightly. 
 " You are kind ; you mean well ; but you do not 
 understand our customs. How can I refuse to marry 
 the husband my brother has chosen for me?" 
 
 "But it makes you unhappy?" he asked 
 tenaciously. 
 
 "Unhappy? Oh no. I have to obey Etienne, 
 and I reverence the good man who is to do me so 
 much honour. It is true that I wept a little, 
 because I did not want to be married, and I 
 begged that Etienne would send me back to the 
 convent, where I was so happy ; but they laughed 
 at me and called me a silly child, and Valerie 
 talked about my corbeille. Perhaps I am foolish," 
 she continued; "but life is so solemn, and the 
 future frightens me ; and I must bid you good-bye, 
 monsieur, and that troubles me too ; but I shall 
 never forget your kindness." 
 
 " Gabrielle, I cannot let you go. How am I to 
 live without you ? " 
 
 Then she looked at him with a smile of divine 
 tenderness. " I shall pray for monsieur, that le bon 
 Dieu may give him his heart's desire."
 
 A LOST PARADISE. 12/ 
 
 " My heart's desire ? Oh, Gabrielle, when you 
 know ! " 
 
 " It is not for me to know monsieur's private 
 affairs," she said quickly, and there was a new 
 dignity about her that recalled to his mind that 
 she was a De Brienne. " Monsieur has been good 
 to tell me so much already. It is well to pray 
 for one's friends — that the saints and the Holy 
 Virgin may have them in their keeping, and in 
 my new home " — she sighed, and then recovered 
 herself — " I shall still remember my friends. Will 
 you suffer me to go now, monsieur V 
 
 "One word. Is there to be no hope at all for 
 me ? Have you indeed given your word to marry 
 the Comte D'Arcy > " 
 
 "Most certainly my word is given. We are 
 affianced ! Is that not the term ? " 
 
 " And you mean to be happy, Gabrielle ? " 
 
 " I mean to do my duty ; happiness is a gift of 
 le bon Dieu, n'est-ce pas, monsieur? It is for Him 
 to give or withhold ; that is what the good sisters 
 taught me. But I will pray always for monsieur's 
 happiness." 
 
 " I am not worthy of your prayers," he replied, 
 kneeling down beside her and covering the thin 
 young hands with his kisses. 
 
 These were his last words to her, and only a
 
 128 A LOST PARADISE. 
 
 deep sigh answered him. Then he left her, and 
 stole down the gallery. He paused for an instant 
 on the threshold of his room, and looked back. 
 Her hands were crossed on her bosom again, and 
 she was looking up at the clouds scudding across 
 the moon. 
 
 The next day Felix left the chalet. When he 
 took leave of the Comte de Brienne and his wife, 
 Gabrielle was with them. She looked very grave 
 and pale, and when he took her hand it was cold 
 as ice. 
 
 " I wish mademoiselle every happiness," was all 
 he said. 
 
 " Monsieur has my good wishes also," she re- 
 turned, almost inaudibly. 
 
 But Valerie, who was watching them both very 
 closely, shivered as though she were cold. 
 
 " I always honour a brave man, Mr. Hamerton," 
 she said, in the lowest possible voice, as he bowed 
 over her hand. 
 
 But to this no response was possible ; and then 
 as he went out the gate of his paradise closed 
 behind him. 
 
 Such was the substance of the story that Felix 
 Hamerton related to Constance, but he told it 
 very briefly. It was not until years afterwards, 
 when the circumstances of his life were changed,
 
 A LOST PARADISE. 1 29 
 
 that he ever told it in its entirety. Nevertheless, 
 Constance wept freely as she listened. 
 
 " Felix, my poor Felix, do forgive me ! " 
 
 *' Forgive you, Constance ! " he repeated, in his 
 surprise. He had expected sympathy, and even 
 her tears did not astonish him ; but this was the 
 last speech he was prepared to hear. 
 
 " Yes, forgive me for having teased you so un- 
 mercifully. When I think of all the nonsense I 
 talked, I am ready to sink into the ground with 
 shame. But how was I to guess that your life 
 had held such trouble ? You have been so patient 
 and so long-suffering. Well, it has taught me one 
 lesson — never to judge any one again." 
 
 " Then in that case I am content to be a finger- 
 post." 
 
 " Oh, do not laugh ; I cannot bear it. What a 
 story — how pathetic ! That sweet Gabrielle ! And 
 it is seven years ago. Let me think a moment. 
 Was it not the time when you came back looking 
 so ill, as though you had had a fever } " 
 
 " I had had a touch of fever in Paris." 
 
 " Yes, I remember. We were all so shocked at 
 your appearance ; but we never guessed ; " and 
 her eyes were full of tears again. 
 
 Then he took her hand and pressed it in his 
 brotherly fashion. 
 
 VOL. II. 28
 
 I30 A LOST PARADISE. 
 
 "You are very good to give me so much 
 sympathy. Your kindness makes me feel as 
 though I ought to have told you before ; but it 
 is not easy to speak of such things." 
 
 " I understand what you mean, but it is safe 
 with me. I should not speak of such a thing even 
 to my husband. Felix, this is not all, surely. In 
 all these years have you heard nothing, have you 
 never seen her again ? " But she was almost sorry 
 that she asked the question when she saw his face. 
 
 " I have seen her once," he returned ; " it was in 
 the opera-house in Paris two years ago. I recog- 
 nized her at once. She looked much older — ten 
 years older, but very beautiful. I always knew 
 how beautiful she would be some day. She was 
 blazing with diamonds, but her grandeur had not 
 changed her. I could read that in her eyes ; she 
 was still Gabrielle." 
 
 " Do you think she is happy, Felix ? " 
 
 " How can I tell ? Did she not say herself that 
 happiness was a gift of le bon Dieu ? Her eyes 
 were sad, but then she had just lost her child." 
 
 " Her child ? " 
 
 " Her only one — a boy. Madame de Brienne 
 told me ; I met her accidentally at Cannes. She 
 was very friendly and pleasant. She was talking 
 about her two children, when she told me that
 
 A LOST PARADISE. 13I 
 
 suddenly. ' He was two years old, and as beauti- 
 ful as an angel,' were her words. ' The count 
 idolized him ; he will never get over it ; the sorrow 
 has aged him. Gabrielle is as unselfish as ever. 
 She hides her own grief that she may not add to 
 his, but her boy was everything to her. I tell 
 Etienne that she is more a saint than a woman. 
 I never knew any one so good. The poor people 
 round the chateau D'Arcy quite worship her.' " 
 
 " Do you think she saw you, Felix .? " 
 
 " I do not know — I am not sure, but I almost 
 think not. Until I spoke to Madame de Brienne 
 the sad look in her eyes troubled me, but of course 
 it was the loss of her child." He sighed a little 
 wearily. "Let us change the subject; it is not 
 good to dwell on the past." 
 
 "Let me say something more, and then you 
 shall be left in peace. Does not the mere fact of 
 her being married make things easier to bear ? Do 
 not think me unsympathetic, Felix ; I could not 
 
 be that, but seven years is a long time, and " 
 
 She hesitated. 
 
 " You want to ask me if I have not got over it, 
 but you lack courage. In a way I suppose I have, 
 but while Gabrielle lives I feel as though no woman 
 could ever take her place. Do I shock you ? " 
 
 " No, for I understand you too well. You have
 
 132 A LOST PARADISE. 
 
 a faithful nature, Felix. Perhaps I ought not to 
 
 say it ; but if the count be old " Then she 
 
 saw at once that the remark displeased him. 
 
 " We must be very careful not to formulate such 
 a thought, even to ourselves," he returned slowly. 
 " The count is hale and hearty, and I trust has 
 many years of life before him." Then he paused 
 a moment, and went on as though he were pursuing 
 an old and familiar line of thought. " The mere 
 fact of your hinting that, shows that you have not 
 grasped the salient point of Gabrielle's character. 
 She is utterly unselfish ; she would not rest until 
 she had taught herself to love her husband. There 
 would be first gratitude and veneration for the 
 hero, and then affection for the father of her boy." 
 He spoke as though he were thinking aloud, and 
 Constance felt rebuked — as though she were tread- 
 ing uninvited in some holy place. Gabrielle de 
 Brienne was only a sacred memory to Felix ; but 
 none the less, so she felt, had she spoilt his life. But 
 for that brief romance of his, he might be making 
 some other woman happy. " Oh, the pity of it ! " 
 thought Constance, speaking out of the fulness of 
 her satisfied life. " If any man deserves a good 
 wife, it is Felix ; he is so strong and so gentle, and 
 I think he is less selfish than other people." 
 
 " I have talked you into the blues," observed
 
 A LOST PARADISE. 1 33 
 
 Felix, regretfully. " Let me ring for the lights ; " 
 and he put his hand on the bell. 
 
 He had scarcely done so before they heard 
 carriage wheels, and the next moment Mr. Lorimer 
 and his brother-in-law entered the room. They 
 looked fagged and muddy, but seemed in high 
 spirits, and condoled with Felix on losing the 
 day's sport. 
 
 " Do go and change your things ; you are both 
 as wet as possible," remonstrated Mrs. Wyndham. 
 
 " Well, it was a trifle muddy," remarked Reginald, 
 " especially in the spinney ; in fact, it was a perfect 
 swamp. Well, come along, Wyndham ; I am as 
 hungry as a hunter. I feel like Esau before he 
 had his lentils. By-the-by, Felix, Sir William 
 sent you his compliments, and would be glad to 
 see you on Friday." 
 
 " Thanks awfully, but I have made up my mind 
 to go up to town to-morrow ; honour bright, Reg, 
 I cannot spare another day. If you like to invite 
 me to eat my Christmas dinner with you, I will 
 not refuse ; and perhaps I might stay over the 
 New Year." 
 
 " But we wanted Reg to come to us, didn't we, 
 Harcourt?" and Constance looked appealingly 
 at her husband. 
 
 " No, no," responded Reginald, eagerly ; " Ha-
 
 134 ^ LO^"^ PARADISE. 
 
 merton is booked, and I mean to keep him to his 
 engagement. You and Harcourt and the boys 
 must come too. I hate Christmas in London, 
 and it will be a less dreary affair if I can see you 
 all round me here." And as Reginald seemed in 
 earnest, the thing was definitely arranged, though 
 Mr. Wyndham pretended to grumble as soon as 
 he reached the privacy of his own dressing-room. 
 
 " Reginald makes us awfully comfortable, and 
 I believe he likes to have us, but we must not 
 tire out our welcome ; a fellow does not always 
 want to be saddled with his own belongings." 
 
 "We should never tire out Reggie," returned 
 Constance, confidently. "He does love to talk 
 to you, Harcourt — he often tells me so ; and the 
 change is so good for you." 
 
 " When Reginald marries again, he will not 
 want us quite so often," observed Mr. Wyndham. 
 
 But to this Constance made no reply. Felix 
 Hamerton's sad story had struck deep ; for the 
 present at least she was cured of her love of 
 matchmaking.
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 THE LETTER WITH THE BLACK SEAL. 
 
 " God keeps a niche 
 In heaven to hold our idols ; and albeit 
 He brake them to our faces, and denied 
 That our close kisses should impair their white, 
 I know we shall behold them raised, complete, 
 Their dust shook ofif, their beauty glorified, 
 New memnons singing in the great God-light." 
 
 E. B. Browning. 
 
 HERE are curious coincidences in life. Ever 
 afterwards Felix Hamerton thought it one 
 of the strangest experiences that had ever befallen 
 him, that he should have told that story to Con- 
 stance on that evening. If he had guessed what 
 was in store for him, would he ever have brought 
 himself to break the silence ? But not then or 
 afterwards did he answer this question. 
 
 Human life is full of these mysterious surprises.
 
 136 THE LETTER WITH THE BLACK SEAL, 
 
 Our friend has gone away, perhaps to the other 
 end of the world ; he has passed out of our daily 
 existence ; we have ceased to think of him ; the 
 hand of Time, the inexorable, has blotted out the 
 familiar lineaments from the canvas of the present. 
 One day we remember him ; something he has said 
 or done occurs to us with peculiar vividness ; his 
 face, his very tricks of voice and manner, are fresh 
 in our memory. Suddenly we look up ; there is 
 our friend coming round the corner and smiling 
 at us. A sort of shock goes through us. What 
 does it mean ? 
 
 Or, again, we have heard nothing for so many 
 years ; but no news is good news, so all must be 
 well. All is well, indeed, but not in our way. That 
 black-edged envelope with the foreign stamp bears 
 a sombre message to us. 
 
 Such a letter lay beside Felix Hamerton's plate 
 the next morning. He glanced at it curiously 
 once or twice as he went on with his breakfast. 
 Such letters were no novelty to him ; his business 
 brought him a host of strange correspondents. 
 Had he ever seen that small pointed handwriting 
 before? A sort of conviction that it was not 
 quite unknown to him made him at last break 
 the heavy black seal and read the signature. Con- 
 stance, who was that moment glancing in his
 
 THE LETTER WITH THE BLACK SEAL. 1 37 
 
 direction, saw a quick startled look spring to his 
 ^y^^. Then he laid down the letter again, and 
 made some attempt to finish his meal. 
 
 A little time afterwards she encountered her 
 brother in the hall. He had been interviewing 
 his housekeeper. 
 
 " Where is Felix } " she asked. 
 
 " He has gone for a walk," was the reply. " He 
 said he had some business to think over, and he 
 wanted to be alone ; something vexatious, I ex- 
 pect, for he looked awfully glum. He has made 
 up his mind to take the 5.40 train from Grantham. 
 I shall drive him in, and be back in time for 
 dinner." 
 
 " I suppose Harcourt is writing his letters in the 
 library. By-the-by, Reggie, he has quite decided 
 that we must go back on Monday. He wanted 
 to leave me behind for a few days, but I would 
 not hear of that ; he does not give himself proper 
 time for his meals unless I am there to look 
 after him." 
 
 " I must not press you to stay," returned 
 Reginald, discontentedly, " but it is a pretty clean 
 sweep — Hamerton this evening, and you and 
 Harcourt and the boys on Monday. I shall be 
 fit to hang myself on Monday evening." 
 
 " Dear Reggie, if you knew how I hate to leave
 
 138 THE LETTER WITH THE BLACK SEAL. 
 
 you!" — pressing his arm caressingly. "But you 
 must go out more. Go over to the Gate House — 
 Mrs. Winter is always so pleased to see you ; and 
 then you must run up to us for a week or so at 
 the end of next month." 
 
 "Oh, I shall get on all right," was his reply to 
 this ; " don't bother your head about me. Har- 
 court is very good to spare you so much as he 
 does. Would you like me to drive you over to 
 the Gate House to-morrow, to say good-bye ? We 
 could bring Miss Winter back if you like." 
 
 And Constance joyfully consented to this. If 
 Reginald chose to suggest Violet of his own ac- 
 count, she would not throw cold water on his plan ; 
 on the contrary, she would go at once to the library 
 and write the most persuasive little note to Violet, 
 bidding her be ready for them on the following 
 afternoon. 
 
 Felix did not come in to luncheon, but Reginald 
 did not seem at all surprised. 
 
 " I suppose he has gone for a good long stretch, 
 and will get some bread and cheese at an inn ; that 
 is generally his way. He has left orders to have 
 his things packed up. Harcourt and I are going 
 for a stroll by-and-by, but we shall be back long 
 before it is time to start for Grantham. Will you 
 come with us, Constance ? "
 
 THE LETTER WITH THE BLACK SEAL. 1 39 
 
 But Mrs. Wyndham excused herself. She could 
 not quite divest herself of an uneasy fancy that 
 Felix had received some bad news. It was hardly 
 like him to absent himself so long on this last 
 day. As she needed exercise, she put on some 
 wraps — for the day was damp and chilly — and 
 walked briskly up and down the avenue. Felix 
 would see her on his return, and would join her. 
 But she had walked for more than half an hour 
 before she saw him coming through the copse. 
 He was walking slowly as though he were tired, 
 but he quickened his steps as soon as he caught 
 sight of her. 
 
 ''You have come out to meet me," he said 
 at once. 
 
 "Yes. What a time you have been ! It is past 
 three, and — oh, Felix, what is the matter ? " 
 
 She had not intended to put the question so 
 abruptly, but she was almost startled by the 
 change in him. He had a grey, worn look on his 
 face, and yet his eyes were strangely bright. 
 Perhaps it was a little odd of her, but at that 
 moment she realized how Felix would look when 
 he was old. His features seemed pinched and 
 dwindled, but as he spoke the impression dis- 
 appeared. 
 
 " Shall you be afraid to sit down ? " was his reply.
 
 140 THE LETTER WITH THE BLACK SEAL. 
 
 " My walk has taken it out of me, and I want to 
 show you something." 
 
 Then she looked at him in speechless dread, as 
 he took the foreign envelope from his pocket. He 
 had a small book in his hand, which he put carefully 
 in his pocket. 
 
 " You have taken a sister's place to me," he said 
 quietly, "and I am going to let you read this. 
 Do not hurry with it I must go to the house 
 for a few minutes to speak to Norton, but I will 
 be back directly." 
 
 But she laid her hand on his arm. " Let me go 
 back wnth you and ask Norton to give you some 
 wine ; you look dreadful." 
 
 "There is no need ; I will ask for it myself, and 
 a crust of bread as well. I have forgotten all 
 about luncheon. Let me find you here when 
 I return ; " and then he left her, 
 
 Constance watched him until he was out of 
 sight. She was afraid to read the letter, she was 
 so sure that it contained bad news. Nevertheless, 
 his confidence gratified her ; she liked to feel that 
 he trusted her. 
 
 The letter was as follows : — 
 
 "Dear Mr. Hamerton, 
 
 " We have met so recently that I shall not need to 
 recall myself to your memory. Ah ! how little we thought, that day
 
 THE LETTER WITH THE BLACK SEAL. 141 
 
 at Cannes, when I was telling you about my darlings, that this 
 terrible thing would happen. My husband is in great trouble — 
 what do I say ? — we are all in trouble. That dear angel whom we 
 loved so tenderly has passed to her rest ; our beloved Gabrielle is 
 gone, and the count is broken-hearted. 
 
 " In the old days your heart was broken too. I saw it in your 
 face, though you said so little. Can you forgive me my careless 
 surveillance, my gross negligence? Ah ! it was all my fault. Etienne 
 knows it now, and he has permitted me to write. * It is long ago,' 
 he says, * and young men's hearts are soon healed ; ' but I tell him 
 not always, for you have never married. 
 
 "This is one reason why I am writing this letter — to ask you to 
 pardon my frivolity and carelessness ; but there is also another 
 reason — that our dear one has sent you a message. Do you start, 
 dear Mr. Hamerton ? Did you believe yourself forgotten ? No, 
 a thousand times, no ! 
 
 " Let me tell you how it happened. 
 
 "It seems to me, on looking back, that my poor Gabrielle has 
 slowly faded from the hour they laid Gaston in his little grave. 
 Maternity was a passion with her, and he was her only one, and 
 so lovely ; to see him was to think of the angels. And then her 
 husband was old. Perhaps she hid her grief too much, that she 
 might not pain the count, and her health suffered. But at first 
 no one noticed it. When the physician's verdict came, it was a 
 shock to us all. No hope — not a vestige of hope ; and we all 
 loved her so. 
 
 *' I was with her when she died, and never was death more 
 peaceful or more welcome. * " I shall go to him ; " those are good 
 words, Valerie.' I think that was almost her last speech. 
 
 " Two days before her death, I was sitting beside her. She was 
 propped up with pillows, that she might see the sunset. Those 
 sunsets from the chateau D'Arcy are superb. It seems sometimes 
 as though the gate of heaven were open, and one had a glimpse of 
 the jasper throne. 
 
 "All at once she began speaking of you, and of those days at the 
 chalet. If I ever see you I will tell you everything, and perhaps 
 such words may console you for a past pain. How beautiful she 
 looked as she spoke them ! In spite of her weakness there was such 
 radiance in her eyes, as though the fight were 'over, and she had 
 gained her rest. But I will tell you a few words she said.
 
 142 THE LETTER WITH THE BLACK SEAL, 
 
 " • Monsieur was very good ; he saw it all. He knew what he 
 was to me ; but he went away, and left me to do my duty. He 
 was so generous, that he spared me suffering. Mon Dieu, what it 
 was to see him go ! But it is all over now.' 
 
 ** And by-and-by — 
 
 «* • I have seen monsieur again, Valerie. That night at the opera- 
 house. He was changed and older, but I knew him ; I should 
 know him anywhere. He does not look happy ; I fear that he has 
 not yet forgotten.' 
 
 "And then, a little while afterwards, she drew the missal I am 
 sending you from under her pillow, and looked at it. ' I used it at 
 my first communion, and every day since ; my old name, Gabrielle 
 de Brienne, is in it. When I am dead, will you send it to Monsieur 
 Hamerton? Tell him it is a token that I have not forgotten my 
 friend, that never have I ceased to pray that le bon Dieu may now 
 and in eternity grant him his heart's desire. Perhaps ' — and then 
 with such a smile; ah, if you could have seen it! — 'perhaps our 
 hearts' desires will meet us there for the first time.' 
 
 "There ! my hand is weary, I can write no more; my husband 
 tells me I have written too much already. 
 
 "I remain, dear Mr. Hamerton, 
 
 ** Yours most sorrowfully, 
 
 "Valerie de Brienne." 
 
 When Felix returned, Constance was weeping, 
 but she checked her tears as he sat down beside 
 her and put out his hand silently for the letter. 
 All her life long Constance remembered that 
 moment, and the heap of moist yellow leaves that 
 lay at her feet or were swirled slowly down the 
 avenue. Some of the trees were almost bare now, 
 and through the stript branches she could see 
 the dull October sky. There was something 
 sombre and solemn in the prospect ; summer and
 
 THE LETTER WITH THE BLACK SEAL. 1 43 
 
 youth, and the brightness of life, seemed over — 
 that was what it seemed to say — and there only 
 remained decay and death and human sorrow. 
 
 " Ah, Felix, it is better so ; " that was all she 
 could find to say. 
 
 " Much better," he returned gently. ** Thank 
 you in Gabrielle's name for those tears, Constance ; 
 but there is no need for you to shed them." And 
 then he murmured half to himself, but she heard 
 and understood him, " Perhaps our hearts' desires 
 will meet us there for the first time." 
 
 They sat a little longer in silence. Constance's 
 tact told her that no speech was needed to convey 
 her sympathy — the tears she had shed for the 
 unknown Gabrielle had told him all he wished to 
 know. Presently he rose and held out his hand. 
 
 " There, it is over ; but I will not say the world 
 is a poorer place to me while I have such true 
 friends remaining. We will not speak of this 
 again, you and I. Now I am going to wish you 
 good-bye. When Reginald comes in, tell him I 
 have gone to my room. God bless you ! and 
 thanks a thousand times for your sympathy." 
 
 And before she could answer him he was gone. 
 
 " It is as dull as ditch water without Hamerton," 
 observed Reginald, later on that evening. " You 
 have hardly opened your lips all dinner-time,
 
 144 ^-^^ LETTER WITH THE BLACK SEAL. 
 
 Constance, and now you have buried yourself in 
 a book." 
 
 Constance coloured a little at her brother's 
 reproach, but her husband answered for her. 
 
 " Constance looks tired ; I vote we have a game 
 of billiards, Reginald. I think she will be glad to 
 get rid of us to-night." 
 
 And Constance was too honest to contradict 
 this. Reginald's talk wearied her this evening. 
 She was haunted by the remembrance of the 
 solemn look in Felix's eyes as he quoted Gabrielle's 
 words. Oh, it was better far that she should be 
 taken from a world that had never suited her — 
 better that he should think of her blissful and 
 reunited to her child, than remember her in her 
 imperial beauty. By-and-by the pain would fade, 
 and only a sacred memory remain ; and he was 
 too young to lose all the good of his life for a 
 memory. " Time heals everything ; by-and-by 
 he will be consoled," thought Constance, with a 
 touch of philosophy. 
 
 When Violet Winter opened Mrs. Wyndham's 
 note, a flush of pleasure came to her face. 
 
 " Constance and her brother propose calling on 
 us to-morrow afternoon," she said, in a tone that 
 betrayed her satisfaction. " She is leaving on 
 Monday, and wishes to bid us good-bye. I am
 
 THE LETTER WITH THE BLACK SEAL. 1 45 
 
 to go back with them, she says, and stay over 
 Sunday." 
 
 A dubious "Humph!" fell from Miss Went- 
 worth's lips ; but Mrs. Winter, who was counting a 
 troublesome bit of cross-stitch embroidery, made 
 no observation. 
 
 " Did you hear me, mother ? " asked Violet, a 
 little impatiently. 
 
 Then Miss Wentworth gave a little sniff of 
 displeasure. 
 
 " It was only the other day that you were staying 
 at the Hall," she remarked, in a judicial manner. 
 " I don't know what you think about it. Amy, 
 but it strikes me that Mrs. Wyndham is not 
 showing her accustomed good taste. In her 
 brother's peculiar position, she ought to be a little 
 more careful." 
 
 . " Of what. Cousin Tess ? " and Violet looked 
 dangerous. 
 
 "I was speaking to your mother, my dear," 
 returned Miss Wentworth, who in her provoking 
 moods was wont to set aside Violet as though she 
 were a child, " and I know she will agree with me. 
 People are talking already about Mr. Lorimer. 
 When I was calling at Combe Lea the other day. 
 Lady Martin asked me, in rather a peculiar tone, if 
 Mr. Lorimer were not a great deal at the Gate 
 
 VOL. II. 29
 
 146 THE LETTER WITH THE BLACK SEAL. 
 
 House. It was not so much the question as the 
 way she looked that put me at once on my guard." 
 
 "I wonder you care to repeat gossip," Cousin 
 Tess," returned Violet, disdainfully. " I hope you 
 told Lady Martin that Mr. Lorimer has always 
 been a great deal with us ; " then she carried off 
 her letter, and shut herself up in the gable room. 
 " If I had stopped downstairs a moment longer, I 
 should have lost my temper," she said to herself, 
 and her cheeks were burning. " How dare she 
 insinuate that it is bad taste for me to go so much 
 to the Hall ? as though he would ever think of such 
 a thing now, if he did not then ! " But Violet did 
 not fill up the gaps in her sentence. Could not 
 even her friendship be sacred from desecration ? 
 
 ** I wish you had not said that, Theresa," observed 
 Mrs. Winter, with mild reproach. "Violet is so 
 very sensitive, and so soon takes alarm. You 
 know what a disappointment it is to me that the 
 dear child does not settle ; and if only she and 
 Reginald Lorimer would come together I am sure 
 I should be delighted. She is seven and twenty 
 now," she added, in the tone of regret which 
 matrons are wont to use with regard to their 
 unmarried daughters. 
 
 But Miss Wentworth chose to feel aggrieved at 
 this remonstrance.
 
 THE LETTER WITH THE BLACK SEAL. 1 47 
 
 " I was not talking against Reginald Lorimer," 
 she said stiffly. "He would do well enough for 
 Violet, and I for one would be thankful to see her 
 married, for certainly her temper does not improve. 
 But I must maintain my opinion, that nothing 
 could be in worst taste than the way Constance 
 Wyndham tries to make a match between them. 
 If he came over here of his own accord I should 
 say nothing, but she brings him with her, and then 
 they take Violet back with them." 
 
 " Dear — dear ! I wish you would not put such 
 uncomfortable ideas into my head, Theresa. Lady 
 Martin, too, seems to suspect something. It puts 
 us all into such a delicate position ; and then poor 
 Lady Car has not been dead more than nine or 
 ten months, so it is dreadful to have all this talk. 
 What are we to do about Violet ? She will be so 
 disappointed if I beg her to refuse ; and after all 
 Constance is leaving on Monday, so there can be 
 no harm for this once." 
 
 " That is how you always compromise matters," 
 returned her friend, in her harsh sibilant voice. 
 " You have no backbone. Amy ; I always tell you 
 so. In your heart you agree with me, do you 
 not? " — pausing for an instant, and fixing the poor 
 lady with one of her dominating looks. 
 
 " I would much rather that Violet should stay
 
 148 THE LETTER WITH THE BLACK SEAL. 
 
 at home after what you say," returned Mrs. Winter, 
 in a hesitating voice. 
 
 "Just so; I was sure that your good sense 
 would triumph, but you lack courage to disappoint 
 Violet, though it is for her own good. That is 
 what I call false kindness." 
 
 "Yes ; but, Theresa, Violet is no longer a child." 
 
 "You mean that she will take her own way? 
 She has done that ever since she could run alone ; 
 but even a grown-up woman will consent to be 
 guided sometimes. Let me go and talk this 
 matter over with her. It will make no difference 
 to me if she lose her temper, and I shall insist on 
 her hearing my view of the case. Violet is not 
 wanting in delicacy, and I shall be very much 
 surprised if she persist in going back with them." 
 
 But this bracing treatment alarmed Mrs. Winter, 
 and she refused to allow Theresa to go up to the 
 gable room. A scene with Violet always agitated 
 her nerves. She would talk to her herself, and see 
 what was to be done, but she could not have dear 
 Constance's feelings hurt. And she and Violet 
 were so fond of each other, and after all there 
 might be nothing in it. How did they know that 
 Reginald Lorimer had a thought of Violet ? 
 
 Miss Wentworth raged inwardly. She was a 
 woman who always grasped an idea quickly, and
 
 THE LETTER WITH THE BLACK SEAL. 1 49 
 
 acted on it. Lady Martin's significant looks had 
 really troubled her. She would have been the 
 first to rejoice at the prospect of Violet's marriage, 
 but she thought these frequent visits to the Hall 
 under the present circumstances were in the worst 
 possible taste. 
 
 " If he wants her he knows where to find her," 
 she argued shrewdly ; " and it is never well to make 
 things too easy for men — a little difficulty enhances 
 the pleasure. I know enough of human nature to 
 lay any amount of odds that Mr. Lorimer will take 
 another wife before next year is over. He is too 
 sociable to enjoy loneliness, and he will marry all 
 the quicker that Lady Car made him so comfort- 
 able." And in the main Miss Wentworth was right, 
 though she might have expressed her meaning 
 more pleasantly. 
 
 When Violet re-entered the red drawing-room, 
 two or three hours later, she found her mother 
 alone. The moment was propitious, and she could 
 not let it pass. 
 
 " Mother dear," she said, kneeling down on the 
 rug, and speaking in her softest voice, for there 
 was a worried look on Mrs. Winter's face, " what 
 am I to do about Constance's invitation ? Do you 
 think you could spare me until Monday } " 
 
 *' Do you really want to go, Violet 1 "
 
 150 THE LETTER WITH THE BLACK SEAL. 
 
 " Of course I want to go. I think 1 am happier 
 at Silcote than at any other place ; but then, 
 Constance and I are such close friends." 
 
 "You don't think that it would be better to 
 decline just this once.?" Then, as Violet drew 
 herself up and looked hurt, she continued apolo- 
 getically, "I do not wish to interfere with your 
 pleasures, my love, and I think it was a mistake 
 Theresa saying what she did ; so if you have set 
 your heart on going— — " 
 
 Then Violet smiled and kissed her. " Thanks, 
 mother dear ; then I will go in spite of Cousin 
 Tess's shocked sense of propriety. It is a comfort 
 that one's mother is married, and not an old 
 maid " — which was a little spiteful on Violet's 
 part, seeing that she was victorious. 
 
 Miss Wentworth looked very glum when she 
 saw Violet's trunk carried down to the carriage 
 the next afternoon, but she made no remark. 
 
 Violet greatly enjoyed her visit. Constance 
 was not quite in her usual spirits, but she was 
 more affectionate than ever ; Violet rather missed 
 Mr. Hamerton — she had seen so much of him 
 lately ; but Reginald took care that she should 
 not find herself dull. He was full of animation, 
 and seemed to find a good deal of pleasure in her 
 society. On Sunday afternoon they were in the
 
 THE LETTER WITH THE BLACK SEAL, I51 
 
 park together. Constance had gone back to the 
 house to give some order, and while waiting for 
 her they paced slowly up and down the avenue. 
 
 Reginald had been silent for a few minutes, and 
 then he said casually, " I suppose you are still 
 having violin-lessons with Miss Carrick?" 
 
 " Yes, indeed ; and I am making good progress. 
 Miss Carrick is such a splendid teacher. I quite 
 look forward to my lessons." 
 
 " You find her interesting ? " Reginald put the 
 question carelessly as he kicked some red and 
 yellow leaves that lay in his path. 
 
 "Most interesting. She is so thoroughly in 
 earnest She so evidently believes in herself and 
 in all she does, and then any one can see she is 
 a gentlewoman. If it were not for Cousin Tess, 
 I should make a friend of ^her ; as it is, we suit 
 each other perfectly." 
 
 "Your friendship would be a grand thing for 
 her," observed Reginald, with unusual seriousness. 
 " I pity Miss Carrick. Her position is so un- 
 comfortable, and no wonder she finds it galling. 
 Why should you mind Miss Wentworth } She 
 has nothing to do with your friends." Then 
 Violet looked up in surprise ; she had not 
 imagined that Mr. Lorimer felt any interest in 
 Miss Carrick.
 
 152 THE LETTER WITH THE BLACK SEAL. 
 
 "I should like to hear her play again," he 
 went on. 
 
 "Should you?" and then Violet checked her- 
 self and began to smile mysteriously. *' After all, 
 I think I will take you into confidence, Mr. 
 Lorimer. Cousin Tess and I have been concoct- 
 ing a charming scheme. We are going to give 
 some musical At Homes next month. You know 
 how dull November is. Well, we think a few social 
 gatherings will be a boon to the neighbourhood. 
 We must have them in the afternoon, because of 
 people coming from a distance. Just tea and 
 coffee, and then Miss Carrick will perform. 
 Cousin Tess said it was an excellent idea. Miss 
 Carrick would be a novelty, and everything else 
 is so stale ; so if you like to reserve your Thursday 
 afternoons, you shall have a card." 
 
 " Oh, you may count on me," returned Reginald ; 
 with admirable promptitude. " I call it a capital 
 notion. You will be a benefactor to the neigh- 
 bourhood. It seems a pity we can't utilize the 
 music-room for the same purpose. Perhaps when 
 Constance comes down at Christmas " 
 
 " What are you saying about Constance ? " asked 
 his sister, who joined them this moment ; but when 
 they had enlightened her she became enthusiastic 
 at once, though she gently but decidedly negatived
 
 THE LETTER WITH THE BLACK SEAL. 1 53 
 
 the idea of the music-room. " It would not do at 
 all, dear — not at present, I mean," she said, in a 
 tone that at once conveyed to Reginald's ear that 
 he had been indiscreet. "After February you might 
 entertain, but not before. Are you sure, Violet, 
 that Miss Carrick will play at your reunions ? " 
 
 " Certainly she will play. She was quite excited 
 at the idea ; she said that it would be such a 
 splendid advertisement for her, and would help 
 her to get pupils. I think her great desire is to 
 make herself independent of her relations. I dare 
 say, in her place, I should feel the same. There 
 cannot be much sympathy between them." 
 
 " It is a grievous pity that that boy stands so 
 much in her light," observed Constance, regretfully ; 
 " but for him she might achieve a brilliant success. 
 Don't you agree with me, Reggie t " 
 
 " No, I don't," he answered a little shortly. " I 
 hate brilliant successes for women ; and it is far 
 better for her to stick to her lessons and look 
 after the boy ; " and then he sent the dry crackling 
 leaves flying again.
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 MR. LORIMER HAS HIS OPINIONS. 
 
 *' Labour is life ! 'tis the still water faileth ; 
 Idleness ever despaireth, bewaileth ; 
 Keep the watch wound, or the dark rust assaileth. " 
 
 Frances S. Asgood. 
 
 ''[SHHE dark hollow of the year," as Carlyle 
 ' ^^^'' phrased it, was before Gloden. Every 
 roadside, every patch of woodland, every planta- 
 tion breathed the same story of gradual decay. 
 The dry leaves that fluttered from the trees 
 collected and lay in rotting heaps under the 
 feet of the passers-by. The bracken in Silcote 
 Park looked yellow and shrunken. At night and 
 in the early morning there was a suspicion of 
 frost in the air ; the grey skies and sombre melan- 
 choly of November were approaching. Nevertheless, 
 any clear-eyed observer of human nature would
 
 MR. LO RIMER HAS HIS OPINIONS. 1 55 
 
 have detected an added cheerfulness in Gloden's 
 manner. 
 
 There is a surprising elasticity in youth. The 
 old well-worn comparison between life and the 
 shipwrecked mariner is profoundly and patheti- 
 cally true. The billows of human trouble roll 
 on perpetually, now submerging and now being 
 gallantly surmounted by the brave swimmer ; at 
 one moment the huge crested wave has rushed over 
 him, beating the strength out of him, and the 
 next has carried him on a few more paces, until 
 finally he finds himself on the shore, looking out 
 over the tangle of seaweed and broken spars of 
 his wrecked hopes. " All Thy waves and Thy 
 billows have gone over me," wrote the minstrel 
 king of Israel. How many a quivering, palpi- 
 tating heart has re-echoed those words ! 
 
 " Good-bye to Eltringham, good-bye to my dear 
 old life and to happiness," had been Gloden's 
 moan, as she looked back despairingly at the 
 grey walls of the home that had sheltered her 
 youth ; and in the bitterness of that farewell she 
 really believed that she was bidding farewell to 
 all joy. Nevertheless, the sap of her youth was still 
 mounting, and in due season the fresh young 
 buds must inevitably appear. Happiness entombed 
 in the rocky cave of grief is for ever awaiting
 
 156 MR. LORIMER HAS HIS OPINIONS. 
 
 its resurrection. When the angry billows have 
 spent their force, they recede, there is calm and 
 stillness, and the white sails gleam in the sun- 
 shine, while under the ripples and the dancing 
 waves the drowned mariner has sunk fathoms 
 deep. " There is a time for everything," wrote the 
 wise man — a time for grief, and a time for healing ; 
 a time for regret, and a time for budding hopes, 
 and for spreading out young wings in the sunshine ; 
 and such a time would come by-and-by to Gloden. 
 
 Since Mrs. Wyndham's visit to the gable room, 
 there had been a marked change in Gloden's 
 manner. She was still sad, but she no longer 
 drooped so persistently. Recognition and the 
 delicate breath of flattery were expanding her 
 perceptibly ; her work braced and interested her ; 
 contact with congenial minds such as Winifred 
 Logan and Violet Winter refreshed her mentally. 
 When she woke in the morning the day looked 
 no longer like a stretch of barrenness that must 
 be traversed before night ; not an hour was 
 unoccupied. 
 
 Clemency, waiting on her customers, or busying 
 herself with her homely tasks, marvelled secretly 
 at the girl's patience and perseverance as the 
 opening door brought her the sound of the violin 
 hour after hour. When she was not giving lessons.
 
 MR. LORIMER HAS HIS OPINIONS. I 5/ 
 
 or helping Harvey with his, she was practising 
 beside the window in the old room looking over 
 Market Street ; and more than once Reginald 
 Lorimer, riding past with his dogs, caught sight of 
 the small brown head against the curtain, and the 
 quick motion of a white hand drawing the bow 
 across the strings. But, though he checked his 
 mare to a foot pace, there was no sign of recogni- 
 tion on Gloden's part ; if her hand shook slightly, 
 there was no one near enough to notice it. 
 
 Harvey's visits to Silcote were becoming con- 
 stant; his half-holidays were all spent in the squire's 
 company, and very often Bernard Trevor accom- 
 panied him. Mr. Lorimer, who abhorred solitude, 
 found the lads excellent company ; but Harvey 
 remained his prime favourite, and he was always 
 contriving new pleasures for him. 
 
 One Saturday evening Harvey came home 
 almost breathless with excitement. The squire had 
 been teaching him to ride ; they had gone ever so 
 far. He had ridden Robin ; he was as steady as 
 old time. Scrivener had told him that he went a 
 good pace, too, and Mr. Lorimer had praised his 
 pluck. They had had a gallop, and he had stuck 
 on all right. And as Gloden uttered a startled 
 protest at this — "Oh, you need not look so scared," 
 he went on ; " Mr. Lorimer knows what he is
 
 158 MR. LO RIMER HAS HIS OPINIONS. 
 
 about. He was quite close' all the time, and once 
 when I dropped the reins, he put out his hand 
 and caught hold of them. I lost my hat, but we 
 went back and picked it up. Oh, it was glorious 
 — glorious ! and I am to have another ride next 
 Saturday." 
 
 Well, it was no use remonstrating ; the squire 
 and Harvey were sworn friends, and meant to 
 remain so ; and, as Uncle Reuben took Harvey's 
 part, Gloden and Clemency were obliged to con- 
 tent themselves with a head-shake or two and a 
 few whispered entreaties in the lad's ear to do 
 nothing rash. 
 
 Robin's beauty, his gentleness, and his wonder- 
 ful speed were frequent topics of conversation 
 with Harvey. Once he coaxed Mr. Lorimer to 
 ride in the direction of Grantham, and Gloden, 
 trudging along the road, suddenly saw them 
 coming towards her, the squire on his bay mare 
 Lady Alice, and Harvey mounted proudly upon 
 Robin. Griff found him out at once, and flew at 
 Robin's heels, barking with joy, which made that 
 paragon of gentleness dance on three legs 
 immediately. 
 
 **Pray don't be nervous. Miss Carrick!" exclaimed 
 Reginald, reassuringly, as he noticed how pale 
 Gloden turned ; " Robin is all right, and so is
 
 MR. LO RIMER HAS HIS OPINIONS. 1 59 
 
 Harvey. Be quiet, old man ! " and he patted 
 Robin's neck caressingly. 
 
 " Come here directly, Griflf. Oh, you bad dog ! 
 how could you behave so } " 
 
 But Harvey, with boyish impertinence, broke 
 into a fit of laughter. "What a dufifer you are. 
 Glow! Why, Robin has been dancing on three 
 legs most of the way, hasn't he, Mr. Lorimer ? 
 He is in fine spirits, aren't you, old boy ? Isn't 
 he a beauty, Gloden? I wanted you to see 
 him, that is why I asked Mr. Lorimer to come 
 this way ; I knew you would be prowling about. 
 Don't you wish you could ride too, Antelope ? " 
 
 " Don't I wish for many things } " returned 
 Gloden, smiling, as she stroked Robin ; and then 
 she looked up and encountered the squire's 
 glance. 
 
 " It is no use asking you not to spoil Harvey," 
 she said softly. 
 
 "I am glad you have made up your mind to 
 that," he returned lightly. "I am helping on 
 Harvey's education. I have taught him how to 
 hold a gun, and now I am giving him riding- 
 lessons. Don't you think you owe me some 
 gratitude. Miss Carrick, for bringing him on like 
 this } " He spoke in his usual careless, good- 
 humoured way, but he was a little taken aback
 
 l6o MR. LORIMER HAS HIS OPINIONS. 
 
 when she raised her dark eyes and looked at him 
 wistfully. 
 
 " I do, indeed ; but I can never hope to repay 
 your kindness," she said, with an emphasis that 
 left no doubt of her meaning ; and then she drew 
 back with a grave smile and bow, and walked on. 
 
 "What on earth did you call your sister just 
 now ? " asked Reginald, as they rode on. 
 
 " Eh, what ? " exclaimed Harvey, absently. " Oh, 
 I know — Antelope. Dad often called her that ; 
 she is rather like a deer, you know." 
 
 " Ah, I see ; " but, though he said nothing more, 
 the name pleased him ; it was so appropriate to 
 the large startled eyes and small head, and the 
 graceful carriage and the light tread. That shy 
 look of gratitude she had given him haunted him 
 all the way home. 
 
 In the first week in November the Winters gave 
 their first At Home — " Tea and chrysanthemums," 
 Violet called it, for there was a fine show of 
 chrysanthemums in the big conservatory. But 
 the young violin-player was the chief attraction. 
 There was a goodly gathering at the Gate House. 
 Gloden came early with Winifred Logan, and 
 kept modestly in the background, though Mr. 
 Lorimer and one or two others sought her out. 
 
 " You do not look a bit nervous " were his first
 
 MR. LO RIMER HAS HIS OPINIONS. l6l 
 
 words, as he greeted her ; " not half so much as 
 when Robin pranced the other day." 
 
 " No, indeed ; " and then, as she looked round 
 at the crowded room, her eyes seemed to brighten. 
 ■"AH these strangers do not trouble me in the least. 
 When I begin playing I shall see no one — the 
 music and I will be alone." 
 
 "I call that selfish, Miss Carrick. What have 
 we done that you should shut us out like that.^ 
 Music ought to widen your sympathies and make 
 you love your fellow-creatures better. When I 
 listen to playing I like, I always seem to grow 
 philanthropic." 
 
 " Ah, you do not understand," she said, a little 
 impatiently. " One cannot limit one's self to one's 
 audience — the feeling is too vast ; one is carried 
 away. How is one to interpret the thoughts of 
 a great master if the human countenances before 
 ■one are appealing to one's consciousness ? No ; 
 when I play let me forget every one — even my 
 friends." 
 
 " You are beyond me there," returned Reginald, 
 vaguely discontented at this ; and then, as Dr. 
 Farry came up to them, he went back to the red 
 drawing-room. 
 
 By some curious coincidence, he sat in the 
 f?ame place that he had occupied when he first 
 
 VOL. II. 30
 
 1 52 MR. LO RIMER IJAS HIS ORINIOXS. 
 
 heard Gloden perform ; but Winifred Logan, not 
 Constance, was in the seat before him. When 
 Gloden came modestly forward and took up her 
 station in the shadow of the curtains, he quietly 
 crossed his arms on the back of Winifred's chair.. 
 He could look at her as long as he liked ; she and 
 her music were alone together — he would not 
 forget that. 
 
 There was no doubt of Gloden's success that 
 afternoon. Dr. Parry's benevolent face was 
 beaming ; he was in luck to have secured such 
 a finished mistress for his little Hilda, so he told 
 himself, as he heard the whispered encomiums 
 that passed through the room. But Gloden's face 
 did not brighten as the compliments flowed in 
 upon her ; she looked a little absent and distrait. 
 
 " I expect you find all this a bore," observed 
 Mr. Lorimer in his casual manner ; and Gloden, 
 who had not perceived his approach, started 
 slightly. "Let me take you out to see the 
 chrysanthemums ; they will do you good ; " and 
 after a moment's hesitation she consented. 
 
 There was no longer that barrier of unyielding 
 stiffness in Gloden's manner to the young squire. 
 He was Harvey's friend, and as such entitled to 
 her courtesy and gratitude ; they were on neutral 
 ground, and she could accept his attentions as
 
 MR. LORIMER HAS HIS OPINIONS, 1 63 
 
 she would from any other gentleman. " He knows 
 all about us now," she said to herself, " and if he 
 chooses to be pleasant and friendly to Harvey's 
 sister, there is no necessity for me to point out 
 his mistake to him." 
 
 Mr. Lorimer took no advantage of this slight 
 concession. He was beginning to score a little, 
 he told himself modestly ; Miss Carrick was not 
 nearly so standoffish as she was. 
 
 "What a mass of bloom ! " observed Gloden, as 
 they entered the conservatory, which was just at 
 this moment empty. " How beautifully those 
 golden and brown and dull red tints blend and 
 harmonize ! It is a perfect feast of colour." 
 
 " I am glad you like it," returned Reginald. 
 *'We were thinking of building a new con- 
 servatory to open out of the music-room at 
 Silcote ; it was a pet scheme of my poor wife's, 
 but it was never carried out. She had a passion 
 for chrysanthemums." He checked a sigh, and 
 then went on, " Do you care for compliments. 
 Miss Carrick ? I have never told you yet how 
 much I have enjoyed the music you gave us." 
 
 " I did not play as well as usual," she returned 
 quickly ; " and it was all your fault, Mr. Lorimer." 
 
 " My dear Miss Carrick ! " — in extreme surprise. 
 
 "Why did you imply that I was selfish," she
 
 1 64 MR. LO RIMER HAS HIS OPINIONS. 
 
 continued, ** because I said that my music seemed 
 to shut me out from everybody? I could not 
 forget your words, and for once I was conscious 
 of my environment. I saw you quite plainly, 
 Mr. Lorimer ; you were at the end of the room, 
 and you had your arms crossed on the chair before 
 you, and you were looking as though you were 
 trying to understand something." 
 
 "By Jove ! " muttered Reginald ; then aloud, " I 
 must have been an awful nuisance, I am afraid ; 
 but I cannot endorse your statement. You played 
 splendidly. I wished my sister could have heard 
 you." 
 
 Then Gloden flushed as though she were gratified. 
 " Do you know what your sister proposed ? " she 
 said, looking at him in her quiet, serious way, 
 and there was something in her calm sedateness 
 that always attracted him. She had none of the 
 airs and graces of the ordinary young lady ; he 
 had long ago discovered that she had no sense 
 of humour. Violet Winter was infinitely more 
 amusing, and could say far cleverer things. " Mrs. 
 Wyndham was anxious that I should go up to 
 town and study under Signor Boski. She was so 
 kind about it ; she took so much trouble. It is 
 her opinion that a year or two under Boski would 
 enable me to play at concerts."
 
 MR. LO RIMER HAS HIS OPINIONS. 1 65 
 
 " Ah, no doubt," he returned coldly. " My sister 
 is a clever woman, and never advances an opinion 
 unless she is sure of her ground. Signor Boski 
 is a great friend of hers." 
 
 " So she said ; she seemed so sure, too, that he 
 would reduce his terms at her recommendation. 
 I cannot tell you how grateful I was for her 
 kindness, and I hope she understood that. I am 
 afraid she tempted me sorely." 
 
 " Do you mean that such a life would suit you ? " 
 he asked, and he had quite lost his genial manner. 
 " I thought women did not care for publicity, and 
 all that sort of thing. In my opinion, they are 
 much safer and happier in their own homes." 
 
 " Do you not think that depends on their home, 
 Mr. Lorimer .-* " she returned, and there was sad- 
 ness in her tone. " I have lost the only home I 
 could love. If my father had lived — ah, these 
 if^ ! — I could have lived all my life happily at 
 Eltringham ; but now " She paused. 
 
 " Oh, you do not know what may turn up," he 
 replied confidently; "you have not settled down 
 yet. If I may venture to hazard an opinion, you 
 will feel quite differently by-and-by, when you get 
 more used to us." But Gloden shook her head. 
 
 " It is not the people or the place," she returned 
 quietly. " I am making friends already, and Miss
 
 1 66 MR. LORIMER HAS HIS OPINIONS. 
 
 Winter and Miss Logan are so good to me ; but if 
 I could have my way I would leave Grantham 
 to-morrow, and put myself under Signor Boski. 
 It is work that I want — hard work, and guidance 
 and sympathy. If one has a vocation, Mr. Lorimer, 
 it is one's duty to follow it ; but, as I told your 
 sister, I am not free." 
 
 Then he looked at her a little curiously. "You 
 mean that Harvey is the obstacle. Yes, I know ; 
 Constance told me ; " and then he added a little 
 obstinately, "and I am not sorry to hear it. I 
 don't believe the life would have suited you a bit ; 
 they would have worked you to death between 
 them." And as she opened her eyes a little widely 
 at this contradiction, he continued somewhat de- 
 cidedly, " I am not an ambitious sort of person ; 
 I like to lead a peaceful existence under my own 
 fig tree. I think heated rooms and applause no 
 end of a nuisance, and if Harvey were a little 
 older he would agree with me." 
 
 " Do you know you are just a little damping, 
 Mr. Lorimer?" 
 
 " Am 1 1 Well, I do not feel especially repen- 
 tant, but I suppose I have no right to be talking 
 to you in this paternal way. My sister is more of 
 your way of thinking, and Hamerton would be 
 too. You see, my domestic virtues have been
 
 MR. LO RIMER HAS HIS OPINIONS. 1 6/ 
 
 over-cultivated, and, as I said before, I hate pub- 
 licity for women ; in my opinion they ought to 
 have something better. But we shall never agree, 
 shall we ? " — turning to her with a good-humoured 
 ilook. 
 
 But Gloden felt a momentary pang as he said 
 this. She had no idea that Mr. Lorimer held such 
 strong views, or she would never have mooted the 
 subject. These easy-natured men sometimes had 
 a fund of obstinacy underneath their smooth 
 manners ; but it was quite evident to her, from 
 Mr. Lorimer's remarks, that a womanly woman 
 was more to his taste, and he disliked excessively 
 the role of an artiste for any of his personal friends. 
 And, strange to say, Gloden felt some regret as she 
 admitted this fact to herself; and yet, after all, 
 what did Mr. Lorimer's opinion matter to her — a 
 country squire who refused to hold advanced views 
 on the subject of women, and whose ideas were 
 hardly up to date? Gloden, who was tenacious 
 by nature, longed to argue him out of his old- 
 fashioned notions, but she wisely refrained. 
 
 " I think we ought to go back," she said, rising 
 from her seat ; " I feel more rested now." 
 
 Then Reginald laughed outright. " Does an 
 argument rest you ? We were on the brink of a 
 .disagreement just now. Come, I will mak-e my
 
 1 68 MR. LO RIMER HAS HIS OPINIONS. 
 
 peace with you. I will not cancel a word I 
 said, and I wish Constance had never mentioned 
 Boski's name, but I will own that it is hard lines 
 for you under your present circumstances, and 
 that I think you put a good face on things — t© 
 quote Harvey, ' you are awfully plucky.' " 
 
 "Thank you," she said, breaking into a smile; 
 and then they went back to the room, and Miss 
 Wentworth, who had noticed their absence with 
 much displeasure, pounced on Reginald as he 
 entered, and Gloden did not see him again. 
 
 But on the following Thursday he was there, 
 and again the week after, and each time he 
 occupied the same place. Gloden, pausing in her 
 playing for a moment, would glance towards his 
 corner. He was always in the same attitude — his 
 arms crossed on the chair before him, and his grave, 
 intent look fixed on her. Sometimes she wished 
 that he were absent ; the consciousness of his 
 presence prevented her from losing herself; the 
 remembrance of his disapproval of her ambitious 
 scheme haunted her with singular persistence. 
 Why had he taken up that attitude of quiet resist- 
 ance ? What was it to him that a stranger like 
 herself should wish to be trained for a professional 
 life ? And yet his hurt tone, his want of geniality,, 
 kept recurring to her memory, and she even once
 
 MR. LORIMER HAS HIS OPINIONS. 1 69 
 
 took Harvey into her confidence. It was one 
 evening late in November, and she had just re- 
 turned from the last " At Home " at the Gate 
 House. She had walked home with Winifred 
 Logan, and had heard from her that her cousin 
 was expected for a few days shortly — a piece of 
 intelligence that produced rather mixed feelings 
 in Gloden's mind. 
 
 When she reached home she found that her 
 Aunt Clemency had lighted a fire in the best 
 room, and was on her knees tending it as she- 
 entered. 
 
 There was no change in the somewhat strained 
 relations between them. Gloden was always per- 
 fectly civil, but she never abridged the distance that 
 kept them apart; she never volunteered confidence,. 
 or expected any in return ; and she still regarded 
 Clemency's maternal tenderness for Harvey with 
 jealous suspicion, though, to do her justice, she 
 tried to combat the feeling. With her uncle she 
 was far more genial ; she treated him with marked 
 respect and consideration. All her hauteur and 
 reserve seemed kept for Clemency; but, true to her- 
 nature. Clemency never resented this, and, with a 
 loyalty for which Gloden would not have given, 
 her credit, she always concealed her wounded. 
 feelings from her husband. " Reuben's getting
 
 170 MR. LO RIMER HAS HIS OPINIONS. 
 
 fond of her, and I won't be setting him against 
 her," she said to herself. "It is ill-doing, stirring 
 up strife in a house. Gloden has got a cold 
 manner, but she means no harm. I must just 
 mother her, and bear with her;" and Clemency 
 acted up to her word nobly. 
 
 "You and Gloden get on famously, Clem," 
 Reuben once said to her, in his dense, masculine 
 way. 
 
 But Clemency only smiled, and held her peace. 
 It would not have helped her, or Gloden either, to 
 have told him that there was no sympathy between 
 them. " It is better to hold one's tongue than to 
 make mischief," thought Clemency. 
 
 When Gloden, coming out of the November 
 dampness and chillness, saw Clemency on her 
 knees coaxing the fire, a feeling of compunction 
 crossed her. 
 
 *' How kind you are, Aunt Clemency ! " she said, 
 more pleasantly than usual. " It is so cold, and it 
 is beginning to rain." 
 
 " There is nothing like a bit of fire for comfort," 
 returned Clemency, adding another stick ; " it will 
 burn up in a moment, Gloden. Patty was busy ; 
 the Sedgewicks are coming in to supper, and she 
 has some cooking to do." 
 
 Then Gloden's pleasant expression clouded over.
 
 MR. LORIMER HAS HIS OPINIONS. 17I 
 
 Mr. Sedgewick was the linendraper in Market- 
 place — a warm, substantial man, as her uncle called 
 him, who was certainly making his pile ; and Mrs. 
 Sedgewick was a comely, rosy creature who dropped 
 her /^'s rather freely, and called Gloden " Miss." 
 Eut they were educating their children well, and 
 would some day have the happiness of seeing them 
 despise their parents, and set them aside after the 
 manner of the youthful generation. 
 
 " The Sedgewicks 1 " she repeated blankly ; 
 " and of course you are lighting the fire for them " 
 — in an injured tone, as though she repented of 
 her former gratitude. 
 
 " No ; they are only coming in late for a bit of 
 supper and a smoke afterwards — at least, your 
 uncle and Mr. Sedgewick will smoke, and Sophia 
 and I will keep them company. I would send 
 you up your bit of chicken, Gloden, only your 
 uncle's feelings would be hurt, and he would not 
 understand ; and then there is Harvey." 
 
 " Of course I shall come down to supper, Aunt 
 Clemency." 
 
 " Well, there is no call to come until it is ready," 
 returned Clemency, good-humouredly. 
 
 She was anxious to smooth things all round, 
 and perhaps she was shrewd enough to guess 
 that Gloden's presence would hardly promote her
 
 172 MR. LO RIMER HAS HIS OPINIONS. 
 
 friends' cheerfulness. If she would have made her- 
 self pleasant, and volunteered to play to them,, 
 things would have been easier. But it was not only 
 unselfish consideration for her niece's well-being 
 that had made her light the fire ; and it was after 
 Mrs. Carrick had gone downstairs that Harvey 
 joined her, and they sat on the big couch nestled 
 together, and in the firelight Gloden repeated the 
 substance of her conversation with Mr. Lorimer. 
 
 " I never thought he was that sort of man," 
 she concluded. " Don't you think it was a little 
 foolish and old-fashioned of him, Harvey ? " 
 
 But Harvey stoutly contested this. 
 
 " Not a bit ; and you are awfully prudish your- 
 self, Glow. We had a talk about it, he and I." 
 
 " About me ? " and Gloden looked intensely 
 surprised. 
 
 " Yes. He told me you had had a bit of a scrim- 
 mage at the Gate House, and that he was afraid he- 
 had vexed you ; and then he asked me if I liked the 
 idea of Signor Boski. And I told him I thought 
 it would be awfully jolly for you to play at con- 
 certs, only I was afraid there would be no such 
 luck, as we had not got any money — hardly any,» 
 I said, because, you know, there is that hundred 
 and fifty pounds that Uncle Reuben is keeping: 
 for us."
 
 MR. LO RIMER HAS HIS OPINIONS. 1 73 
 
 "And what did Mr. Lorimer say, Harvey?" 
 
 " Well, he did not look pleased ; and then he 
 said I was too much of a child to understand. 
 And then I fought him — he is teaching me to box, 
 you know — and that finished the argument neatly ; 
 but he had his innings first, and said some sharp 
 things. He said he hated to see women stuck up 
 before a mixed audience ; at least, women he 
 knew, not other people. That if he had a sister 
 he should look after her, and, though he did not 
 care much about the shop, he thought it better 
 than a London lodging ; and he said he vexed 
 himself about it rather, because his sister had put 
 the idea into your head." 
 
 " Yes, I see." 
 
 *' Oh, he was awfully nice about it. I tell you 
 what, Glow — he thinks no end of you. He said 
 you were too refined and sensitive to be knocked 
 about in the world, and he wished I were a little 
 older and could protect you. He said that after 
 our wrestling-bout, as we were walking through 
 the spinney, and I am sure from his manner that 
 he meant every word." 
 
 Gloden was sure of it too, and she was much 
 touched. It was evident that Mr. Lorimer took a 
 great deal of friendly interest in her, and she was 
 glad to know this.
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 YOU ARE NOT HAPPY HERE." 
 
 *' Oh, how good it feels, 
 The hand of an old friend ! " 
 
 Longfellow. 
 
 NE afternoon Gloden was returning from the 
 Gate House, and walking briskly, as was 
 her wont. The days were shorter and colder now, 
 and as the road was a lonely one, Mrs. Winter had 
 advised her daughter to take her lesson at an 
 earlier hour, so that Miss Carrick might be set 
 free by four. Violet willingly agreed to this, and^ 
 though Gloden smiled a little at this motherly 
 precaution, and assured Violet that a dark road 
 under wintry skies would not have daunted her 
 in the least, she was obliged to submit to her 
 friends' scruples. 
 
 On this occasion she and Violet had lingered so 
 long over their leavetaking as they stood warming
 
 ''YOU ARE NOT HAPPY HERE:' 1 75 
 
 themselves by the hall fire, that it was long after 
 five before she crossed the rustic bridge over the 
 moat and groped her way down the little lane. 
 But Gloden, who was country-bred, cared nothing 
 for the loneliness. She was cold, and walked 
 fast. She had no fear of losing her way ; she 
 knew exactly where the cross-roads met — where 
 she had encountered Mr. Lorimer. She was think- 
 ing of him nowj and of their conversation in 
 the chrysanthemum-house, as she struck into the 
 Grantham road. It was a curious fact that the 
 young squire of Silcote was often in her thoughts 
 just then. 
 
 She was almost sorry when she reached Market 
 Street. Exercise, even in the most inclement, 
 weather, always exhilarated her. She would 
 willingly have walked half a dozen miles further,, 
 but she knew that her Uncle Reuben disapproved 
 of these unconventional ways, so she controlled 
 her restlessness. She very seldom entered the 
 shop, but she remembered Patty had a faceache, 
 so she considerately spared her the trouble of 
 opening the door for her. There were seldom any 
 customers at this hour, and she was inwardly cha- 
 grined, therefore, to see a gentleman standing with 
 his back to her, so near the glass door that she 
 would have to pass quite close to him.
 
 176 " VOC/ ARE NOT HAPPY HERE:' 
 
 As she did so she paused involuntarily. Surely 
 that long neck and those sloping shoulders were 
 .familiar to her. *' Mr. Logan ! " she exclaimed out 
 loud, and Ewen Logan turned with a start, and a 
 flush mounted to his forehead. Clemency, who 
 was serving him, saw the flash of joy in his eyes. 
 
 " Miss Carrick ! " and then he stood holding her 
 hands and forgetting to let them go. " I was just 
 .asking about you. Your aunt told me you would 
 be in soon, so I thought I would wait." 
 
 " Mr. Logan will be wanting a talk with you, 
 ■Gloden," observed Clemency, in her mild way. 
 "I am vexed, that I am, that that Patty has for- 
 gotten to light a bit of fire in the best room ; but 
 there, her face has been troubling her, and put 
 things out of her head. But if you will step into 
 the parlour, Mr. Logan, you will be kindly wel- 
 come." 
 
 " You are very good, Mrs. Carrick, and if you 
 will put up those books for my cousin, I will take 
 them when I leave. Shall I follow you, Miss 
 'Carrick ? " and there was no mistaking the sup- 
 pressed eagerness in his voice. 
 
 " He is glad enough to see her," thought Cle- 
 mency, as she made up the parcel in her pains- 
 taking manner, for no pressing business ever 
 hurried her quiet, deliberate movements. (" It is
 
 " YOU ARE NOT HAPPY HERE'' lyj 
 
 waste of time to hurry," she would say ; " what is 
 the use of doing a thing badly, and having to do it 
 all over again ? ") " But I misdoubt if Gloden cares 
 as much to see him, though she was pretty hearty 
 in her greeting ; but it would be a blessing if some 
 good sensible man would persuade her to marry 
 him, for violin-playing is a poor set-off for a 
 husband and children." 
 
 Gloden's brow contracted with vexation when 
 she heard of Patty's forgetfulness. The little par- 
 lour, with its shining mahogany chiffonier and 
 horsehair-covered chairs, was abhorrent to her ; 
 but to Mr. Logan, hungering and thirsting for the 
 girl's presence, it was a shrine of heavenly comfort, 
 with its neatly swept hearth and Reuben's big 
 easy-chair, with its usual tenant, Jim, curled up 
 on it. 
 
 " I am so sorry Harvey is out," she began, as 
 she took off her hat and jacket and flung them 
 down carelessly on a chair, until Clemency should 
 spy them out and carry them away. Clemency 
 never remonstrated with her niece ; she would pull 
 out the fingers of the gloves and smooth them 
 tidily, while Gloden only tossed her head a little 
 disdainfully. She hated Aunt Clemency's primness 
 and old-maidish ways. " What does it matter ? " 
 she asked once, when she was stung into momen- 
 
 VOL. II. 31
 
 178 *' YOU ARE NOT HAPPY HEREr 
 
 tary irritation. " Uncle Reuben always leaves his 
 pipes about, and you do not seem to object to that.** 
 
 " A wife is bound to put up with her husband," 
 returned Clemency, with unwonted dignity; "when 
 you are married, Gloden, you will find that out 
 for yourself There's a deal of putting up, and 
 bearing and forbearing, in matrimony. I often 
 mind what an old aunt of mine, Aunt Peggy 
 Winterbotham, used to say. She was never 
 married herself, but she always talked as if she 
 had had a dozen husbands. * " Honeymoon " they 
 call it ; I should give it another name. " Temper- 
 test " would fit it far better, I should say.' " 
 
 " Harvey will be so sorry to miss you," went on 
 Gloden, smoothing down her hair with both hands, 
 an action strangely familiar to the curate. A look 
 of tenderness came into his deep-set eyes, but 
 Gloden only saw the gleaming of the glasses. 
 " He is having tea with one of his schoolfellows, 
 Bernard Trevor, and Griff is with him." 
 
 " I have seen Harvey," returned Ewen, absently. 
 " Mrs. Trevor is a friend of ours ; Winifred is very 
 fond of her. Bernard brought him round to see 
 us. He looks well, uncommonly well." 
 
 " Oh, he is much stronger ; and did you notice, 
 Mr. Logan, he is grown ? He is quite tall for his 
 age."
 
 •* YOU ARE NOT HAPPY HEREP 1 79 
 
 " Grantham seems to suit him. But he grumbled 
 a bit ; that is Harvey all over. He says he hates 
 the grammar school." And then his manner 
 •changed, and he looked into the girl's eyes. " We 
 will talk about Harvey by-and-by ; I want to 
 hear about something else. How are things with 
 you ? You look well, you are not quite so thin ; 
 perhaps you do not dislike Grantham as much as 
 you feared." 
 
 "Do you think," she said impulsively, and she 
 frowned as she spoke, " that this " — looking round 
 at the little firelit room — " is a good exchange for 
 the dear old room at Eltringham ? " 
 
 "Comparisons are odious," he replied gently, 
 for he had made up his mind to be gentle with 
 her ; " it looks to me very comfortable, and you 
 know of old that I do not mind shabbiness. You 
 have another room, Winifred tells me, where you 
 •can practise and read to your heart's content." 
 
 " Yes," she returned ungraciously, " but I have 
 -not grown to love it yet." 
 
 " Well, perhaps not " — in a good-humoured voice, 
 for he saw plainly she was in one of her perverse 
 imoods. 
 
 Probably the sight of him had brought back 
 her home-sickness, and in this guess he was 
 right Gloden was answering him shortly, but the
 
 l80 " YOU ARE NOT HAPPY HERE:' 
 
 tears were very near her eyes. His ungainly figure 
 and sallow face were associated with her former 
 life. She was almost surprised herself to feel how 
 strongly she was drawn to him ; she had always 
 respected and liked him, but she had never felt 
 him so much to her. She was standing before 
 him, with her hands hanging down among the 
 folds of her dress. With a sudden uncontrollable 
 impulse Ewen took the right hand gently in his> 
 and for more than a minute she did not withdraw 
 it ; in reality the action chimed in with her softened 
 thoughts of him, but Ewen could hardly be blamed 
 if he interpreted her compliance after his mascu- 
 line fashion. Perhaps, after all, absence had done 
 something for him. 
 
 Unfortunately, Patty entered with the tea-tray 
 at this moment, and Gloden's hands were again 
 fingering the folds of her dress. It was clearly 
 necessary to choose some safe topic of conversa- 
 tion while the girl was clattering round the table 
 with plates and knives, and eyeing them both with 
 undisguised curiosity. 
 
 " You have seen a great deal of my cousin 
 Winifred," he began. " I hope you have become 
 good friends." 
 
 "Yes, indeed; how is one to help liking her? 
 She is so kind, so true, so perfectly unselfish."
 
 ** YOU ARE NOT HAPPY IIEREr l8l 
 
 "Winnie is all that," he returned, very much 
 pleased. " She is a thoroughly genuine person ; 
 that is why people always get on with her." 
 
 "And Miss Winter is another friend of yours,'* 
 he continued, after a moment's silence. 
 
 " Yes, indeed ; and she is charming. She is very 
 different from your cousin ; she is so pretty and 
 taking, and " 
 
 " Oh, we all know that Winnie is no beauty," he 
 observed in a vexed voice, as though he resented 
 this speech. 
 
 Then Gloden felt she had expressed herself 
 awkwardly. 
 
 " I was not thinking of Miss Logan's looks. 
 What do they matter, after all ? Your cousin is 
 so good, so lovable, that one never stops to 
 inquire whether she is plain or not ; but when 
 one is with Violet Winter it is quite different. 
 She is good too, but one cannot help admiring 
 her ; she is so graceful, and her voice is so refined, 
 and then she has such charming manners. She 
 is quite the prettiest girl in Grantham." 
 
 " When she was younger people called her 
 lovely, but she was never as handsome as Mrs. 
 Wyndham." 
 
 " Perhaps not. I call Mrs. Wyndham beautiful ; 
 it is the only word that expresses her."
 
 l82 "" YOU ARE NOT HAPPY HERE:' 
 
 Then Mr. Logan smiled, as though he were 
 amused. 
 
 " There are some nice people in Grantham,, 
 then ? '■' he asked mischievously. 
 
 And then Clemency entered the room. 
 
 "I have just made the tea, Mr. Logan," she 
 said, pausing near the chair where Gloden had 
 thrown down her hat and jacket, and, after her 
 usual custom, straightening her niece's gloves. " My 
 husband is coming in directly, and we shall be 
 pleased and proud if you will take a cup with 
 us, sir." 
 
 "You are really too good, Mrs. Carrick;" and 
 then he looked at Gloden, as though expecting 
 her to endorse the invitation ; but she was staring 
 at the fire, and took na notice. 
 
 " I shall be very glad of a cup of tea," he con- 
 tinued, after a moment's awkward hesitation. He 
 felt sure, from Gloden's manner, that she wished 
 him to decline ; but he could not resist the tempta- 
 tion of breaking bread with her again. He looked 
 wistfully at her as she moved slowly and reluctantly 
 to her place opposite to him. He could read her 
 thoughts pretty accurately. It galled her inex- 
 pressibly that he should see her under her altered 
 circumstances, and be a spectator of her aunt 
 and uncle's homely wayS) when he remembered-
 
 " YOU ARE NOT HAFFY HERE:' 1 83 
 
 her under such different circumstances. How 
 often she had poured out tea for him in the dear 
 old study, or in the dim, sweetly scented drawing- 
 room, fragrant with roses and lemon verbena ! 
 And then she thought of the melon-shaped silver 
 pot of which her mother had been so proud, and 
 the delicate Wedgewood china, and Aunt Clem- 
 ency's staring red-and-blue teacups gave her a 
 real pang. 
 
 "Will you kindly ask a blessing, Mr. Logan? 
 My husband is just serving a customer, but he 
 will be in directly ; and you'll find those scones 
 very good, sir, if Gloden will hand them to you," 
 she continued appealingly, presently glancing at 
 her niece. 
 
 And then Reuben came in, looking hearty 
 and pleased to see Mr. Logan. And the two 
 men began to discuss Grantham affairs, while 
 Gloden sat silently by, and Clemency only 
 interposed to press some more tea-cake on her 
 guest. 
 
 " And when do you leave Eltringham, sir ? " was 
 the first thing that really roused Gloden from her 
 abstraction. 
 
 " Not until Easter. Mr. Snowden wishes me to 
 remain until then, and of course I am willing to 
 oblige him."
 
 1 84 " YOU ARE NOT HAPPY HERE:' 
 
 "And then?" asked Reuben, with kindly in- 
 quisitiveness, 
 
 " Well, Mr. Carrick, it is an open secret that the 
 bishop means to offer me the living of Clacton- 
 over-Fields." 
 
 And, as Gloden uttered a surprised exclamation, 
 he bent forward as though he were answering her. 
 
 "It is not much of a living — my cure of souls 
 will number about five hundred — and is only 
 worth about two hundred a year, but there is a 
 good house and garden, and my mother thinks I 
 could take pupils." 
 
 " Oh yes," she returned quickly, " that is always 
 what dear father advised ; and then you could 
 have your mother and cousin to live with you " 
 
 But here she stopped, warned by a peculiar 
 expression in Mr. Logan's eyes that she was 
 treading on dangerous ground. In her pleasure 
 at hearing that such a piece of good fortune had 
 accrued to her old friend, she had forgotten the 
 last conversation they had held together, but 
 Ewen's keen look suddenly recalled it, "If you 
 could only bring yourself to care for me, and to 
 overlook my defects of manner," he had said to 
 her humbly, " I would do my best to work for 
 you, and to shield you from adversity." 
 
 And the next moment this thought rushed into
 
 " YOU ARE NOT HAPPY HERE:' 1 85 
 
 her mind, " This is why he has come to Grantham, 
 to tell me about Clacton-over-Fields, and to ask 
 me to go there ; " and then she felt a little giddy 
 and sick, and rose from the table with a muttered 
 excuse. She had been so pleased to see him ; but 
 if he came for this ? Oh, why was he so persistent, 
 so obstinately bent on making her uncomfortable ? 
 Why was he so cruel to her, and to himself too, 
 when he must know how hopeless it was ? 
 
 Gloden remained away as long as she dared. 
 When she returned to the parlour she found Mr. 
 Logan was just taking his leave. 
 
 " I shall see you again," he said, as he shook 
 hands with her. " Mrs. Carrick tells me that you 
 are generally practising your violin in the morning. 
 As my time is limited, perhaps I may look in to- 
 morrow ; " and, without waiting for an answer, he 
 turned away. 
 
 And again Gloden felt that he had been too 
 much for her. 
 
 When she woke the next morning, she felt as 
 though some dreadful ordeal lay before her. She 
 had lain awake for hours, planning how she could 
 escape an interview with Mr. Logan, and she 
 determined at all hazards to avoid him. She 
 would go out for the whole morning. It would 
 be treating him badly, but it would be far kinder
 
 1 86 " YOU ARE NOT HAPPY HERE:' 
 
 in the end. He had no right to take it for granted 
 that she would remain in to see him. It would 
 be giving him encouragement ; it would be better 
 to hurt his feelings than that. " He will take the 
 hint ; he is obstinate, but he is not dense," she 
 said to herself, when she had arrived at this 
 conclusion. 
 
 " I have told Patty to make up a good fire in 
 the best room," observed Clemency, when they 
 had finished breakfast, and Harvey had caught up 
 his books and rushed out. " It is a raw sort of day 
 — your uncle thinks we shall have sleet presently ; 
 and Mr. Logan talked about looking in." 
 
 " Yes, I know ; but he was not certain — he only 
 said perhaps," returned Gloden, hurriedly. " Don't 
 trouble about a fire, Aunt Clemency ; I think I 
 am going out." 
 
 Then Clemency looked at her niece incredu- 
 lously ; it was evident that she could not believe 
 her ears. Then she went on with the business 
 she had in hand, piling up the breakfast-cups on 
 a tray. 
 
 " I would not do that if I were you, Gloden," she 
 said quietly; *'Mr. Logan told me before you 
 came down that he meant to come. *I must 
 have a good long talk with your niece' — those 
 were his exact words ; so it would be putting
 
 " YOU ARE NOT HAPPY HERE:' 1 87 
 
 a slight on him not to be here, when I told him 
 that you always stopped in in the morning." 
 
 " I am sorry you told him anything of the kind," 
 replied Gloden, stiffly. " You will have to talk ta 
 him yourself, Aunt Clemency, for I am certainly 
 going out." 
 
 Then a little flush mounted to Clemency's face 
 as she carried the tray away. She would not 
 argue the matter. If Gloden chose to be contrary,. 
 and to put this affront on her old friend, it was. 
 no business of hers. " Heaven help the man who 
 marries her ! " she thought, as she called Patty to- 
 bring her a bowl of water and a tea-cloth. 
 
 Gloden's feelings were not very enviable as she 
 went upstairs to get ready for her walk ; it was 
 not a tempting morning for a stroll, and the best 
 room looked delightfully warm and snug as she 
 passed it. It was early yet ; she could have an. 
 hour's practice. But before half an hour had passed 
 she laid aside her bow. She remembered suddenly 
 that Mr. Logan was an unconventional person ; 
 he might not think ten o'clock too early for his 
 visit. The idea alarmed her, and before ten minutes 
 were over she and Griff were on their way up the 
 town. 
 
 She had chosen the Silcote road, as she dare 
 not pass Chapel Street or the Market-place, for
 
 l88 " YOU ARE NOT HAPPY HERE:' 
 
 fear of meeting Mr. Logan. When she had walked 
 another mile, she meant to branch off in the 
 direction of Donnington. She and Harvey had 
 often planned to walk to Donnington, but all his 
 half-holidays were now spent at Sllcote, and, 
 except on Sunday afternoons, they rarely went 
 out together. 
 
 Gloden thought that she had managed very 
 cleverly to avoid her old friend, but fate was too 
 strong for her. She had only just left the town 
 behind her, when she became aware of a black 
 angular figure in the distance ; but before she could 
 beat a retreat, Griff had rushed up to it with a 
 ■delighted bark of recognition. Gloden grew hot 
 and then cold, as Mr. Logan came eagerly to 
 meet her. 
 
 " This is luck ! " he said, in a pleased voice, as 
 he joined her. " I was just prowling about until 
 it was time for my call. Of course, you did not 
 expect me for another hour." And then he looked 
 at her, and something in her expression struck him. 
 "You know I said I should call this morning." 
 
 " You only said ' perhaps,' " she returned faintly. 
 •^' I was just taking Griff for a walk." 
 
 "And you meant to be back in time to see 
 me ? " and he looked at her a little searchingly. 
 
 But Gloden had no answer ready. She could
 
 " YOU ARE NOT HAPPY HERE:' 1 89. 
 
 not tell him to his face that she had gone out to 
 avoid him, neither could she stoop to utter a 
 falsehood ; but her embarrassed look and silence 
 were sufficient answer. Mr. Logan's face changed. 
 
 "You knew I was coming to talk to you, and 
 you went out to avoid me," he said, in a harsh^. 
 strident voice. " Was this kind, Miss Carrick ? " 
 
 " I did not mean to be unkind," she answered. 
 
 But her evident nervousness did not allay his 
 displeasure. Last night she had been gentle and 
 gracious to him ; there had been a softness in her 
 mien that had given him hope, and now she had 
 put this insult on him. Any other man would 
 have gone away and left her, but Mr. Logan was 
 not to be turned from his purpose by any amount 
 of silent opposition ; he had come to Grantham, 
 to say a certain thing, and he meant to say it. 
 Nevertheless, the blackness of his brow did not 
 become a wooer. 
 
 " It was useless to try and avoid me. I should 
 have followed you," he went on, in the same 
 offended voice. " I have come to Grantham with 
 a purpose — a purpose that concerns you, and you. 
 cannot prevent my saying what I have to say, 
 however difficult you make it for me to speak. 
 Shall I speak now, or will you come back with 
 me to Market Street ? "
 
 1 90 " VOC/ ARE NOT HAPPY HERE?' 
 
 Ewen's authoritative tone excited Gloden's 
 resentment. No man had a right to speak to her 
 in such a manner ; she would not bear it for a 
 moment. 
 
 '' I am not going back," she said coldly. " Is 
 it any use to tell you, Mr. Logan, that I should 
 prefer to walk alone ? " 
 
 "By heavens, no!" he returned angrily. "You 
 are treating me as badly as possible ; we have 
 not met for months, and yet you tell me to my 
 face that you do not wish for my society. I would 
 not have believed that even you could be so cruelly 
 hard." 
 
 Then, in spite of herself, she was touched by 
 the pain in his voice. After all, he had a right 
 to be angry with her. 
 
 " There is no need for us to quarrel," she said 
 more gently. " If I make it evident that I do not 
 desire your company, it is because your manner 
 does not please me." 
 
 But he misunderstood her. "What does it 
 matter about a man's manner," he retorted 
 stormily, " if his heart be right ? Could any 
 man love a girl better than I have loved you ? 
 I have my faults, God knows, but I should not be 
 ashamed for you to read my thoughts." 
 
 " Mr. Logan, will you let me say something ?
 
 " YOU ARE NOT HAPPY HERE:' IQI 
 
 I thought — I hoped that you would never speak 
 to me in this way again. I told you last time 
 that you were making a mistake. Why did you 
 not believe me ? " 
 
 Then he stopped, and looked at her very 
 sorrowfully. " It is no mistake on my part. It 
 is as natural for me to love you as to breathe 
 the air; I think I have told you that before. 
 Such a love as mine is not to be despised or 
 thrown away." 
 
 Then she remained silent. She did not despise 
 him ; in a way she loved him, for his honestness, 
 and his uprightness, and the gentleness of his 
 nature. He was a good man — she knew that, and 
 he had been very kind to her ; but if she and he 
 were alone in the world, she could not have 
 brought herself to marry him. But how was she 
 to tell him so } 
 
 " Let me tell you more about myself," he went 
 on eagerly. " Things are different now. As the 
 vicar of Clacton-over-Fields, I shall have a better 
 position to offer you. The house is good — it is 
 nearly [as good as Eltringham Vicarage, and the 
 garden far prettier. There is a little farm attached 
 that I think of taking into my own hands. You 
 once told me you would dearly love farming; and 
 in his holidays Harvey could live with us."
 
 192 " YOU ARE NOT HAPPY HEREr 
 
 No answer. He looked wistfully at her, and 
 went on. " You are not happy here ; the shop 
 does not suit you. I saw myself last night how 
 you felt about things. If you would marry me, 
 I think you would care for me in time. I would 
 not ask much — only the right of being your 
 husband, and protecting you ; I have love enough 
 for both. I know you trust me. In a way we 
 are friends. I should not be afraid of waiting- 
 until you could love me in return." 
 
 " How good you are ! " The words burst from 
 Gloden in spite of herself. Oh, why could she 
 not love this simple, kindly nature ? What did 
 it matter that he was awkward and brusque m 
 his manner? Could she not overlook his insignifi- 
 cance, his want of attraction .'' He was offering her 
 much — an assured position, a home almost as good 
 as the one she had left, congenial work and pro- 
 tection for herself and Harvey, and last, but best 
 of all, a love that would last her whole life. And 
 he asked so little in return. He would be patient 
 with her, until she had learned to care for him. 
 And yet, why could she not bring herself to say 
 yes ? " How good you are ! I am not worthy of 
 such affection," she said, almost despairingly. 
 
 They were approaching the little village of 
 Silcote, but Gloden, dazed and agitated had failed
 
 " YOU ARE NOT HAPPY HERE." 1 93 
 
 to recognize it. The next minute a young man 
 in a dark tweed coat came out of a cottage they 
 were just passing, with a beautiful black pointer 
 at his heels ; and Gloden was startled to recognize 
 the squire. 
 
 He raised his hat, and seemed as though he 
 were going to speak ; then he glanced at her 
 companion, and drew back with a muttered " Good 
 morning." A denser person than Reginald Lorimer 
 must have detected unusual traces of perturbation 
 on Mr. Logan's face. He never even saw Mr. 
 Lorimer, as he listened to that involuntary ex- 
 clamation. 
 
 "You are worthy of far more than I can give 
 you," he returned quickly ; and Reginald overheard 
 him, and stood stock still in the road, looking after 
 them. 
 
 " It is not difficult to understand that," he said 
 to himself, as he walked on. "Now, I wonder 
 who that fellow is ? I seem to know his face. By 
 Jove ! I have it now. It is Logan ; he was a 
 curate at Eltringham. Of course he has fallen in 
 love with her there. He is not much to look at ; 
 she is a cut above him, I should say. I wonder 
 what sort of answer he will get? She looked 
 awfully flushed and uncomfortable when she 
 recognized me. He is making love to her — I'd 
 
 VOL. II. 32
 
 194 
 
 YOU ARE NOT HAPPY HERE'' 
 
 take my oath of that. Confound his impudence ! 
 But these clerics have cheek enough for anything ; " 
 and Reginald kicked a stone out of his path with 
 decided irritation. " * You are worthy of far more 
 than I can give you.' The deuce take it ! the 
 fellow must be a prig."
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 "IT IS NOT MY FAULT." 
 
 " We, ignorant of ourselves, 
 Beget often our own harms, which the wise powers 
 Deny us for our good ; so find we profit 
 By losing of our prayers." 
 
 Antony and Cleopatra. 
 
 g||EGINALD LORIMER had just pulled him- 
 self together and walked on in the direction 
 of Grantham, when Gloden turned quickly to Mr. 
 Logan. There was a flush on her face, and a 
 singular expression in her eyes. 
 
 " Do not say any more to me ; I cannot bear it. 
 Why do you make me suffer so } I am not un- 
 grateful, and I am not hard. It is not my fault 
 if you have no power to touch my heart — it cannot 
 be my fault." She spoke almost passionately, as 
 though she wanted to clear herself from some 
 inward accusation.
 
 196 "/T" IS NOT MY fault:' 
 
 Mr. Logan's hopes died a natural death as 
 he heard her. " You have no power to touch my 
 heart." Could that indeed be the truth? Was 
 it possible that his great love could fail to eHcit 
 any response? Had it come to this — that he 
 must give it all up ? Then for the moment there 
 was despair in his heart, and, for all his courage, 
 he could not answer her. 
 
 "If you had only believed me, and spared me 
 this ! " she went on. " If you knew how your 
 kindness hurts me ! It may be easy for some 
 women to say no, but to me it is simple torture. 
 A dozen years hence, if I live, I shall blame myself 
 for this ; I shall believe that it is somehow through 
 my fault that this trouble has come upon you." 
 
 And then she shivered a little, as though the 
 wind were suddenly cold. This roused him. 
 
 " You shall not blame yourself," he said harshly. 
 "You have given me no encouragement. When 
 you came out this morning to avoid me — well, 
 a fool could have understood the meaning of that ; 
 but I would not listen to reason. I thought that if 
 you were unhappy, you could be persuaded ; that 
 perhaps I should be able to touch you. But I 
 give it up" — spreading his hands with a gesture 
 of utter hopelessness. "You are right; you will 
 never care for me."
 
 "/r IS NOT MY FAULT." 1 97 
 
 " Not in that way." And then her voice choked, 
 and no effort could keep the tears back. Oh, 
 how wretched it all was ! The bleak, wintry pros- 
 pect ; the wan, miserable face of the man beside 
 her ; the pitiless necessity that compelled her to 
 give him pain ; the inexorable laws of human life ; 
 its sadness and sorrowful complications. " If I 
 could only help my own nature ! " was her inward 
 cry. 
 
 " And there is no other way that would satisfy 
 me," was Ewen's answer ; and then he stopped 
 himself. " But there is no need for you to make 
 yourself miserable about me ; a man can always 
 bear what he has to bear." 
 
 " And you will get over it ? " 
 
 " Oh yes, I shall get over it. I have my work 
 to do, and of course I do not mean to shirk that. 
 The heart is taken out of me for the present. 
 Clacton will be the abomination of desolation, at 
 least for a while." 
 
 " But your mother will be with you." 
 
 "Yes ; but even a mother cannot comfort a man 
 under all circumstances, though she be the best 
 of mothers." 
 
 "Mr. Logan, when you tell me this, you make 
 me wish that I had never been born to bring this 
 misery upon you."
 
 198 ''IT IS NOT MY FAULTS 
 
 Then he turned upon her with a stern rebuke. 
 " You must not say that ; it is wrong. How are 
 you or I to know what is best for us? If I had 
 borne my trouble better, you would never have 
 said that to me ; so the sin is mine." 
 
 « No— oh no ! " 
 
 " But it is. I ought not to have shown you my 
 unhappiness so plainly, but for the moment I was 
 utterly overwhelmed ; the iron had entered into 
 my very soul. But I shall never be so contemptible 
 in my weakness again." 
 
 "You are not contemptible, Mr. Logan. How 
 can you talk so .? " 
 
 " Well, I will not talk any more ; we are near 
 the town" — for they had turned unconsciously, 
 and were retracing their steps. " Should you 
 mind if I left you } I think it would be better 
 for us both if I were to bid you good-bye." 
 
 " Oh no ; do not leave me so ; " and Gloden 
 put her hand on his arm to detain him. " Do not 
 leave me with bitterness in your heart ; it may be 
 long before we meet again. Tell me at least that 
 you forgive me." 
 
 Then he took her hands, and held them firmly. 
 " There is no bitterness in my heart against you ; 
 only a great sorrow, that I must learn to bear like 
 a man. You have done me no wrong ; you cannot
 
 ''IT IS NOT MY fault:' 1 99 
 
 help yourself. If I could only be dififerent !" He 
 looked at her moodily ; then his glasses grew a 
 little dim. " God bless you ! I can at least without 
 sin pray for your happiness." And then Gloden did 
 let him go. 
 
 She stood still until he was almost out of sight, 
 but he did not once turn. He walked doggedly 
 on, his shoulders bent, his thin, ungainly figure 
 lessening in the distance ; and Gloden watched 
 him with a dull ache at her heart. 
 
 There was a rude bench behind her, on which 
 she sank wearily. Well, it was over ; she had 
 done her day's work, and she had done it 
 thoroughly. She had robbed an honest man of 
 his sweetest hope and purpose in life, and yet no 
 sinner had been so innocent as she. She had done 
 all in her power to like him ; she had tabulated 
 his virtues ; she had told herself over and over 
 again that no man was ever more deserving of 
 a woman. *' He has fewer faults than other men. 
 What is a little brusquerie and a dictatorial 
 manner, when he is really so kind-hearted and 
 humble-minded ? " she had told herself. " It is 
 not necessary that a man should be handsome. 
 If I loved him, I should get used to his little ways." 
 And yet, in spite of these arguments, she had 
 turned upon him almost fiercely. " It is not my
 
 200 "/r IS NOT MY FAULT:' 
 
 fault that you have no power to touch my heart." 
 That is what she had said to him. 
 
 Gloden could give no reason for the sudden 
 feeling of irritation that seized on her when she 
 met Mr. Lorimer's questioning glance. He was 
 about to speak to her, and then he had checked 
 himself. Had he suspected anything ? But why 
 should he suspect anything ? She had a perfect 
 right to be walking with a friend. 
 
 " Are you not a little imprudent, Miss Carrick ? " 
 
 And Gloden started in good earnest. She had 
 heard no footstep, and there was Mr. Lorimer 
 standing before her, while the pointer laid a cold 
 black nose on her lap. 
 
 "It is just beginning to sleet," he continued 
 carelessly. "I suppose you are tired, and that 
 Mr. Logan — the gentleman who was with you, I 
 mean — has gone back for an umbrella." 
 
 " Mr. Logan ! Oh no ; he was obliged to go 
 back — to leave me. I was tired." 
 
 " So you seem " — sitting down beside her in a 
 friendly manner ; while Gloden, painfully conscious 
 of her red eyes, made much of Nan, and wished 
 Mr. Lorimer a hundred miles away. Why was he 
 always crossing her path now ? There was some 
 fatality about it. When she least expected it, he 
 started up before her.
 
 " IT IS NOT MY FAULT?' 201 
 
 " I was awfully surprised to see you sitting here 
 alone," went on the squire ; " and you were so deep 
 in thought, too, that you never even looked up. 
 Why, you quite jumped when I spoke to you." 
 
 " You startled me so." Gloden took care not to 
 look at him as she spoke. 
 
 But Reginald had sharp eyes, though he chose 
 to appear unconscious. His curiosity was fairly 
 roused by this time. He had met Mr. Logan 
 striding moodily along in the direction of the 
 town, and then he had come upon Miss Carrick 
 sitting in a very despondent attitude, and he 
 knew perfectly why Nan was absorbing all her 
 attention. 
 
 "Don't you think we had better be walking 
 on t " was his next observation. " You must not 
 sit here any longer ; it would be a clear case of 
 suicide ; " and he gave her his hand as though to 
 help her to rise. 
 
 Evidently Gloden was to be allowed no choice 
 in the matter ; anyhow, she yielded to Reginald's 
 good-natured air of authority. 
 
 " But there is no need to take you out of your 
 way," she observed, rather feebly. " You were 
 going home to luncheon, were you not ? " 
 
 " Oh, my luncheon is rather a movable feast, 
 and I have no one to please but myself — at least,
 
 202 " IT IS NOT MY FAULTS 
 
 until Tottie is old enough to keep me company. 
 When are you coming to see Tottie again, Miss 
 Carrick ? She is very faithful to your memory still. 
 ' I love my Carricks ; ' I actually heard her say 
 that the other day." 
 
 " What a darling she is ! I should love to see 
 her again." 
 
 "Your desire can easily be accomplished ; Tottie 
 is always on view in the afternoon. What does 
 that reproving glance mean } " For Gloden, sur- 
 prised by this into self-forgetfulness, had allowed 
 him to have a glimpse of her swollen eyelids. " Am 
 I putting my foot into it as usual — shocking 
 the proprieties? I am afraid Tottie and I have 
 no chaperone. Still, there is another way ; Tottie 
 can come and see you." 
 
 "Oh no — I mean you are very kind. Mr. 
 Lorimer, please don't think me rude — I would 
 not be that for the world — but I would rather not 
 take you out of your way. I know it is your 
 luncheon-time, and — and I am not good company 
 to-day ; I have been worried." 
 
 " I was thinking myself that you seemed a trifle 
 low," he replied cheerfully. " I often have a fit 
 of the blues ; a big house all to myself — for, of 
 course, Tottie does not count for much — is enough 
 to make a man feel hipped."
 
 ''IT IS NOT MY fault:' 203 
 
 "I think you bear your troubles wonderfully," 
 she returned, with a sigh. 
 
 "Well, I don't know about that" — shaking his 
 head. He had taken no notice of her hint that he 
 should leave her. " I wish I had Aladdin's lamp at 
 this moment, or that some genii would metamor- 
 phose this stick into an umbrella. This sleet is 
 coming down rather unpleasantly ; I am afraid 
 you will get awfully wet." 
 
 " It does not matter," she returned indifferently. 
 
 **You are anything but a fair-weather friend," 
 continued Reginald, trying to jest. " I made your 
 acquaintance in a thunderstorm. Now, if I were 
 to believe in omens, I wonder what such a com- 
 mencement would portend } — that I am always to 
 look out for squalls when I am in your vicinity ? " 
 
 But if he expected her to enter into the spirit of 
 his joke, he was unpleasantly disappointed. It 
 chimed in too ill with her strained and harassed 
 mood. 
 
 "It means that you had better have nothing 
 more to do with me," she broke out with sudden 
 bitterness ; " that I am a source of trouble to 
 myself and other people too." 
 
 Then he understood perfectly the cause of her 
 present distress. " She has refused the fellow," he 
 said to himself, and he thought that her tears
 
 204 "/^ ^-S" NOT MY fault:' 
 
 showed true womanliness. " She is not the ordinary 
 sort," he went on to himself. " She would not lead 
 on a man to propose to her out of sheer vanity and 
 love of conquest, and then turn him adrift without 
 a moment's scruple." And then he said in a kind 
 voice — 
 
 " One takes a morbid view of things when one 
 is a bit low ; if the sun were shining now instead 
 of this confounded sleet, you would feel quite 
 different. Why, in the spring I felt fit to hang 
 myself ; I could not stay in the house some even- 
 ings. I used to let the dogs loose, and take the 
 whole lot for a walk — they were company for 
 me, you see — and when I had had a five miles' 
 tramp I used to eat an enormous supper, and turn 
 in and sleep like a log. It was better than brood- 
 ing over the fire, like an old woman with the 
 faceache." 
 
 " Or a young woman with the heartache " — 
 rather dryly. Reginald's manner was so droll, that 
 it was impossible to refrain from a smile. 
 
 " I am afraid young women's troubles have not 
 been much in my line," he returned, delighted with 
 this transient gleam of sunshine, though it was a 
 very poor specimen of a smile ; " but I should 
 think the same sort of thing would suit them. 
 Take my advice. Miss Carrick ; next time you are
 
 ''IT IS NOT MY FAULTS 20$ 
 
 in the doldrums, go across country as a crow flies — 
 stiles, five-barred gates, and all. Harvey will be 
 delighted to give you a lead, and in an hour's time 
 you will find yourself as hungry as a hunter. 
 Good lack, young gentleman, what is the meaning 
 of this ? " — as a vigorous young arm was thrust into 
 his, and an affectionate push almost sent him in 
 the road. 
 
 " How fast you two walk ! " grumbled Harvey ; 
 '* I am nearly out of breath catching you up. 
 What were you saying, Mr. Lorimer, about being 
 as hungry as a hunter } By Jove ! if you only had 
 my appetite." 
 
 "Mine is Brobdingnagian." And as Harvey 
 looked rather perplexed, " My dear boy, have you 
 never heard of Swift's celebrated romance, * Gul- 
 liver's Travels,' wherein the inhabitants are repre- 
 sented as giants about ' as tall as an ordinary 
 church steeple ; everything else on the same pro- 
 digious scale,' so of course their appetites were 
 immense? But you have plenty to learn yet" — 
 shaking his head sadly. 
 
 " Oh, come, now, there is one thing you don't 
 know, does he. Glow? that Aunt Clemency has 
 made a steak-pudding for dinner. She makes 
 awfully good steak-puddings, Mr. Lorimer, with 
 kidneys and eggs and all sorts of things."
 
 206 •* IT IS NOT MY FAULT" 
 
 " Once in my life," observed Reginald, solemnly, 
 " I partook of the dish you mentioned. It was 
 at the house of a tenant. I was dead tired and 
 wet through, and Farmer Denison was good 
 enough to invite me to take a knife and fork ; 
 that was his mode of wording the invitation, I 
 remember. * Take a knife and fork with us, 
 squire.' There were four of us," he continued, in 
 a melancholy tone, "but I assure you I went for 
 that pudding, and in a short time only the dish 
 remained." 
 
 Harvey seemed to enjoy this anecdote. And 
 as they were crossing the Market-place at that 
 moment, more than one passer-by greeted the 
 squire, and then stood and looked after the group 
 rather curiously. Then a sudden inspiration came 
 to Harvey. He chuckled, looked at his sister, 
 then darted on in front, bolted into the shop, 
 and returned breathless just as Mr. Lorimer was 
 shaking hands with Gloden. Mr. Carrick followed 
 him. 
 
 " Don't go, squire," he said politely. " My little 
 chap here tells me that you are as hungry as a 
 hunter, and that it is your luncheon-time, and 
 that you have got a fancy for a steak-pudding. 
 My wife and I will be fine and proud if you will 
 take a snack with us."
 
 "/r IS NOT MY fault:' 207 
 
 Then a look of extreme delight came into 
 Reginald's eyes. He hardly knew himself how- 
 famished he was until Harvey had begun to talk 
 of the pudding. It is needless to say he accepted 
 with alacrity. 
 
 Gloden, who was too much astonished at her 
 uncle's audacity to make a remark, went off to 
 her room to change her wet things ; while Harvey 
 allured Nan with a bone into the back yard ; and 
 Clemency, just a little bit flustered out of her 
 usual calm, went in search of a clean napkin and 
 to bid Patty take up the pudding carefully. 
 
 For one moment Gloden thought of sending 
 down an excuse that her head ached, and that 
 she did not need any dinner, but there was no 
 bell in her room, and she was afraid that Harvey 
 would make a fuss ; so she hastily bathed her 
 face and smoothed her hair, and then glided into 
 the room, and into her place so quietly that Mr. 
 Lorimer, who was speaking to Mrs. Carrick, did 
 not notice her entrance, and started perceptibly 
 when he saw her. 
 
 Clemency commiserated kindly with Gloden on 
 her lack of appetite. "You have got a sort of 
 chill with your wetting," she said. " I shall tell 
 Patty to brew you an early cup of tea ; there is 
 nothing like a cup of tea for a headache."
 
 208 "/r ZS- NOT MY FAULTr 
 
 " Mrs. Carrick, if you would only give my cook 
 the receipt of this pudding, I shall be eternally 
 obliged," observed Mr. Lorimer. " In my opinion 
 it is a masterpiece of cookery." 
 
 Then it was evident that Clemency was very 
 much pleased, and Reuben Carrick's eyes twinkled. 
 
 " My wife is a rare cook, squire. She has taught 
 our girl a heap of things. In my opinion, every 
 lass, high or low, should know how to cook. In 
 our great-grandmothers' times the ladies were not 
 above such work, but now every young chit of 
 a girl thinks more about playing the piano and 
 getting a smattering of French that would not 
 be known for such by a native, than of beating 
 up eggs for a cake or making a stew." 
 
 "Tottie shall be properly instructed in the art, 
 Mr. Carrick," returned Reginald, easily. " She 
 has already been detected making mud-pies in the 
 spinney. We must not allow her talent to rust." 
 
 And again Harvey exploded. " That is the 
 jolliest part about Mr. Lorimer," he observed con- 
 fidentially to his sister afterwards ; " he does make 
 one laugh so. It is not so much what he says, 
 as the droll way he says it, that is so killing. 
 Was it not nice to see him sitting there talking 
 so comfortably to Uncle Reuben ? I tell you 
 what, Gloden ; he enjoyed himself awfully."
 
 *• IT IS NOT MY FA ULT" 2O9 
 
 " Oh, do you think so ? " asked Gloden, rather 
 dubiously. But Harvey was right. Mr. Lorimer 
 had thoroughly enjoyed himself. 
 
 In the first place, it was a new experience, and 
 he loved new experiences when they were not too 
 unpleasant, such as the extraction of a big double 
 tooth, for example. It had never fallen to the lot 
 of the young squire of Silcote to partake of early 
 dinner in a small parlour behind a shop, with a 
 pleasing view of a back yard. Then, though the 
 viands were homely, they were excellent, and he 
 had added the sauce of keen appetite. If any 
 other ingredient entered into his enjoyment, he 
 did not own it even to himself; only the sight 
 of Gloden in her humble environment filled him 
 with a sort of wonder. " Any one could see that 
 she does not belong to the place," he said to him- 
 self. But he made no attempt to draw her into 
 the conversation, and contented himself with 
 chattering commonplaces to Clemency. 
 
 " I have got a half-holiday to-day, and I was just 
 thinking what I could do with myself," observed 
 Harvey, presently. "It is such a beastly sort of after- 
 noon, you see ; but now you have come " — nudging 
 Reginald affectionately — " we shall find plenty to 
 amuse us. Come along, and I will show you the 
 Chinese room, where Gloden practises her fiddle." 
 
 VOL. II. 33
 
 210 "/r IS NOT MY fault:' 
 
 Mr. Lorimer accepted this invitation witii 
 alacrity ; but he stopped when he perceived that 
 Gloden showed no intention of accompanying 
 them. 
 
 " I hope that you intend to do the honours of 
 the Chinese room, Miss Carrick," he observed, 
 with languid politeness. " Harvey and I would 
 only get into mischief alone." 
 
 " Perhaps you had better go up and have a 
 look at the fire, Gloden," put in Clemency, rather 
 anxiously. " Patty has been a little forgetful 
 lately." Then Gloden felt herself obliged to go. 
 
 Reginald looked round with an air of satisfac- 
 tion ; the old-fashioned cosiness of the room 
 pleased him. Patty had not forgotten her duty, 
 and a bright fire welcomed them. Outside the 
 prospect was sufficiently dreary ; the sleet had 
 turned to rain, and the wet street and heavy grey 
 sky were not inviting. 
 
 " I am afraid I am weather-bound for the 
 present, and must trespass on your hospitality," 
 he said, with a hypocritical regret in his tones. 
 And then he spied the violin-case, and his eyes 
 brightened. " Now, if you would play to us ! " he 
 suggested, in a persuasive voice. 
 
 " Oh, bother the fiddle ! " returned Harvey, dis- 
 contentedly. " I thought we should have played
 
 "/r IS NOT MY fault:* 211 
 
 chess or backgammon. Gloden plays chess awfully 
 well, and I am first-rate at backgammon. We 
 could have tossed up, you know — chess heads, 
 and backgammon tails, or we might have played 
 by turns ; and there are some chestnuts I meant 
 to roast ; and " 
 
 " Look here, Miss Carrick!" exclaimed Reginald, 
 in a tone of desperation, " if you are going to spoil 
 the boy in this way, I shall have to give him up ; 
 spoilt children are intolerable " — and here he took 
 Harvey gently by the ear. " Little boys should 
 be seen, not heard. Your sister is going to dis- 
 course sweet music to us, and if you do not shut 
 up and hold your tongue, I will bundle you down 
 the staircase, neck and crop." 
 
 But here Harvey broke away, and began dancing 
 round him in well-simulated rage. 
 
 Well, after a time peace was restored ; and 
 presently Harvey was seated on the rug in front 
 of the fire, with Griff beside him, watching the 
 chestnuts with absorbed attention, while Mr. 
 Lorimer, lounging at his ease in the roomy window- 
 seat, listened dreamily to the strains of the violin. 
 
 After all, the request had not been unpalatable 
 to Gloden. When anything agitated or excited her, 
 it was easier for her to play than talk ; music 
 always calmed and refreshed her, as the harp of
 
 212 '' IT IS NOT MY FAULTS 
 
 the young shepherd refreshed the tormented spirit 
 of Saul. 
 
 Reginald, glancing from under his half-closed 
 eyelids, saw the colour come to her pale cheek, 
 and the light to her eyes. " Do not stop," he said 
 more than once, and there was something urgent 
 in his tone. The movement of the little thin hand 
 seemed to fascinate him. When at last she laid 
 aside her bow, and looked at him with an apologetic 
 smile, his expression startled her. 
 
 "I forgot. Why did you let me go on playing ? " 
 she said, shocked at her own forgetfulness and 
 absorption. " Harvey will be so tired, too. You 
 ought to have stopped me, Mr. Lorimer." 
 
 " I could not bring myself to do that. I cannot 
 thank you, Miss Carrick ; no mere words could 
 thank you." And then, as he stood aside to let 
 her pass, there was a strange look in his eyes. But 
 he was conscious of no actual thought — only a 
 deep and subtle pleasure stirred him, as her dress 
 brushed against him ; and when he took her hand 
 to bid her good-bye, a sort of thrill passed through 
 him. " I shall come again ; you will let me come 
 again ? " he said, in a voice so low that Harvey 
 did not hear him. 
 
 Then Gloden's womanly instincts took alarm. 
 " I think it would be better not," she said
 
 ''IT IS NOT MY FAULTS 213 
 
 hurriedly ; but she dropped her eyes as she spoke. 
 " You know what I mean, Mr. Lorimer ; " and her 
 voice faltered a little. 
 
 " I shall not try to guess ; but if you will not 
 give me permission, I am afraid I shall come all 
 the same. I do not feel as though I can keep 
 away ; " and before she could answer him, he had 
 called Harvey and had left the room. 
 
 " What did he mean t Why did he look at me 
 like that ? I will never play to him again. He 
 must not come here." But, though she told herself 
 this, some unerring voice whispered that if he had 
 a mind to come, it would be difficult to keep 
 Reginald Lorimer away.
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 "WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU, EWEN ? " 
 
 " Love that asketh love again, 
 Finds the barter nought but pain ; 
 Love that giveth in full store, 
 Aye receives as much or more." 
 
 Dinah Muloch. 
 
 O one would have changed places with Ewen 
 Logan as he walked back to Grantham. 
 Then, and ever afterwards, he told himself that it 
 was the bitterest hour of his life. Never since he 
 had attained manhood, had he been conscious of 
 such bruised sensibility, of such mental aridity 
 and lack of hope. The purpose and meaning of 
 existence seemed utterly frustrated and set at 
 nought. For more than four years he had nourished 
 the secret hope that Gloden Carrick would be his 
 wife, and had possessed his soul in patience.
 
 " WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU, EWENV 215 
 
 "All comes to him who waits," he had often told 
 himself. " In time she will realize the value of 
 a love like mine. I will not lose heart. I will 
 never give her up — never ! " 
 
 But now for the first time despair had entered 
 his soul. " It is not my fault if you have no 
 power to touch my heart." Those were the words 
 that had torn away the last shred of his hope — 
 that showed him the truth in its bald and hideous 
 verity. He would never win her ; no amount of 
 devotion or passionate insistence would ever make 
 a responsive spark. She was not for him ; and as 
 he owned the humiliating fact, it seemed to him 
 as though the winter of his life were come. 
 
 Poor Ewen ! He was heavily handicapped. 
 Was it any fault of his that nature had been so 
 niggardly with her gifts ? After all, what did his 
 ungainly figure and short-sightedness matter in 
 comparison with his good honest heart? The 
 graces of manner may be much, but the virtues of 
 uprightness and faithfulness are surely more. And 
 to some women, even thin, sloping shoulders and 
 clerical peremptoriness cannot obscure the inner 
 beauty of true manliness and trustworthiness. 
 
 It was Ewen's loss that he had set himself to 
 attain the impossible, while all the time the woman 
 who should have been his helpmate dwelt beside
 
 2l6 '' WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU, EWENV 
 
 him unrecognized and unrewarded. Had any one 
 told him that he was the poetry of Winifred's life, 
 he would have opened his eyes in amazement. 
 He and Winifred were cousins, friends, chums ; 
 all his life he had looked upon her as a sister ; he 
 had told her all his troubles, he was sure of her 
 sympathy ; the tie of relationship made their bond 
 a closer one than that which united Constance and 
 Felix Hamerton. 
 
 Ewen took advantage of his position to lecture 
 Winifred ; he commented severely on any small 
 failing or trifling dereliction of duty ; and Winifred 
 took his rebukes so meekly, with such sweetness 
 of temper and cheerfulness, that he almost enjoyed 
 his post of censor. 
 
 But, on the other hand, Winifred was not with- 
 out her modest triumphs. She knew that she was 
 necessary to Ewen — that he, as well as his mother, 
 relied on her strong common sense and unfailing 
 cheerfulness for most of their home comfort ; and 
 this knowledge was a continual spring of joy 
 to her. 
 
 Winifred had no illusions about herself; she 
 nourished no secret hopes that she would ever be 
 more to Ewen. Her affections were never demon- 
 strative, but deep down in her heart Ewen's image 
 reigned supreme ; his faults as well as his virtues
 
 '' WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU, EWENV 21/ 
 
 were dear to her ; his mannerisms were only- 
 beauties. Ewen was Ewen, and she had no fault 
 to find with him. 
 
 Winifred had long tutored herself to look for 
 Ewen's marriage ; he would fall in love and marry 
 like other men. When that day came, she meant 
 to love his wife ; she would take her into her heart 
 and cherish her as a dear younger sister. Ewen's 
 children should be as the very apple of her eye. 
 *' They shall love their Aunt Winnie," she would 
 say to herself, in this shadowy day-dream of hers, 
 as she trudged backward and forward to her 
 work. She never dreamt about her own future ; 
 she was just " Aunt Winnie," and nothing else. 
 
 Many other women are as selfless and unex- 
 acting in their aims as Winifred Logan, and as 
 ready to immolate themselves and their ideals on 
 some shrine of domestic duty — who make no 
 demands for themselves, and who find their 
 happiness in the happiness of others, and pass 
 twilight existences, growing grey before their time. 
 " She hath done what she could ; " may we not 
 believe that such words will be said over many a 
 one whose heart was often sore and wrung in this 
 life by seeing others feasting in high bliss in upper 
 rooms, while they are bidden to no such festivities } 
 To some the bread of affliction and the water of
 
 2l8 '* WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU, EWENV 
 
 affliction are freely dealt — denied hopes, wasted 
 affections, famine of the heart's desires ; and yet 
 " she had done what she could," she had waited 
 and suffered patiently and without bitterness. In 
 this life she had not received her good things ; they 
 are laid up for her in the divine treasury. 
 
 Ewen cared nothing for the sleet that drove 
 in his face and melted on his hat-brim ; nature 
 was sympathizing with him in his drear hour, and 
 not mocking him with sunshiny smiles. He was 
 in no hurry to return to Chapel Street, where his 
 mother's anxious eyes would follow him about the 
 room. He chafed at the idea of confinement to 
 four walls ; he walked on until he grew stiff and 
 tired with exertion before he set his face home- 
 wards. Mrs. Logan uttered a cry of dismay when 
 she saw him. He was wet through, and looked 
 utterly fagged ; a little river was running down 
 his shoulders on her neat oil-cloth. 
 
 "Oh, Ewen, where have you been?" she ex- 
 claimed, lifting up her hands. "You must just 
 go upstairs and change your clothes. Rebecca 
 is vexing herself because the dinner is nearly 
 spoilt ; but we must keep it waiting for all that 
 Go, like a good lad, and I will just fetch a clean 
 cloth for the oil-cloth." 
 
 And Ewen, with some reluctance, followed his
 
 " WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU, EWENV 219 
 
 mother's advice. But he could eat nothing, and 
 very soon went off into the next room, on the pre- 
 text of writing his next Sunday's sermon ; but, as 
 he sat there with the books before him, the thought 
 of his crushed hopes and the cruel purposelessness 
 of his life drove all but the text from his mind. 
 How was he ever to preach a sermon again ? His 
 tongue would cleave to his mouth with misery. 
 
 Winifred had had a hard day's work. The care 
 of five high-spirited children, with all the insolence 
 of youth and health, was certainly not a sinecure's 
 part, and, dearly as she loved her pupils, and was 
 beloved by them, there were occasional conflicts of 
 wills. 
 
 The Parrys were famed for their hospitality, 
 and the Red House was seldom free from guests, 
 and the arrival of some favourite cousins had 
 caused riot and insubordination in the school- 
 room. Winifred, who had intended begging for a 
 holiday on the score of Ewen's brief visit, dis- 
 covered for herself that it would be cruel to ask 
 for it, and that her presence for the next few days 
 would be indispensable. 
 
 " It is rather hard," she said to herself with a 
 sigh, as she closed the gate of the Red House 
 behind her ; " Ewen will be obliged to go 
 back to Eltringham on Saturday afternoon, and
 
 220 " WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU, EWENV 
 
 what good will my half-holiday be to me ? I shall 
 see so little of him — only in the evening, and then 
 I am tired. Ewen comes so seldom now, and 
 when he goes to Clacton — " But there she checked 
 herself ; she could not trust herself to enter on that 
 subject. A dim fear that duty would detain her 
 at Grantham had more than once crossed her 
 mind. 
 
 As she let herself in with her latch-key, Mrs. 
 Logan stepped noiselessly out of the parlour. 
 Her face wore an anxious expression. 
 
 "I hope you are not wet, Winnie, my dear" — 
 feeling her tenderly over the arms and shoulders. 
 
 But Winifred only laughed. " Of course not. It 
 is quite fine, Aunt Janet. Where is Ewen ? " 
 
 Then Mrs. Logan shook her head. " I will 
 come up with you a moment," she said mys- 
 teriously ; " there is no need for me to make 
 the tea until you are ready. It has been a long 
 day, Winifred, and I have been wanting you more 
 than usual. Let me hang up your cloak ; you 
 will be for changing your dress, of course ; it 
 seems a pity to wear a good material like that 
 in the evening. I will give you out your old 
 black silk ; with a lace bow, it will look as nice as 
 possible." 
 
 Winifred gave no heed to this economical re-
 
 '' WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU, EWENV 221 
 
 mark. "What's wrong, Aunt Janet?" she asked, 
 coming to the point as usual. " Why are you 
 puckering up your forehead and talking under 
 your breath, as though some one were ill ? " 
 
 " Dear me, Winifred, how sharp you are ! " re- 
 turned Mrs. Logan, nervously ; " there is no keep- 
 ing anything from you. Why should you think 
 anything is wrong t I am quite sure that Ewen 
 hasn't spoken more than a dozen sentences since 
 breakfast-time." 
 
 Then Winifred, with a trace of impatience in 
 her manner, took the old silk dress from her 
 aunt's hands. 
 
 " I wish you would sit down. Aunt Janet, and 
 tell me everything straight out. Ewen was as cheer- 
 ful as possible this morning. He was going to call 
 on Miss Carrick, but he walked with me first to 
 the Red House, and we were talking about Clacton 
 all the time. How soon did he come back ?" 
 
 " Oh, my dear, not until long past dinner-time — 
 the joint was nearly spoilt ; and then he came in 
 wet through, and looking as fagged as though he 
 had walked twenty miles. I made him change 
 his things, but he could not eat more than two or 
 three morsels — he said he was too tired ; and then 
 he went off to write his sermon, and he is writing 
 it still for all I know."
 
 222 " WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU, EWENV 
 
 Winifred remained silent — her eyes were fixed 
 on the floor ; then she roused herself. 
 
 " Did he speak of Miss Carrick, Aunt Janet ? " 
 
 " Only a word or two. He said he had seen 
 her, and that she was very well, but he did not 
 enter into particulars. I think he must have been 
 disappointed in his visit, he looked so glum and 
 out of sorts. It is very strange, is it not, Winnie } 
 Ewen has such a sweet temper ; he is so seldom 
 cross." 
 
 " Don't trouble about it. Aunt Janet ; we will 
 just leave him alone — that is always the wisest 
 way. He is a little over-excited about Clacton ; 
 it is such a wonderful thing to him, you know. 
 Why, he is only just thirty, and to have a living 
 offered to him. It shows what a good opinion the 
 bishop has of him." 
 
 "That was just what I was saying to myself, 
 Winnie. Why, I could hardly sleep all night with 
 thinking of it all. And how proud your uncle 
 would have been ! But there, you will be wanting 
 your tea, and the kettle will be boiling over. 
 Come down to the fire as soon as ever you can, 
 for you have got a starved look, Winnie." 
 
 And Mrs. Logan bustled away, drying her eyes 
 as she went ; while Winifred, with a grave look 
 on her face, finished her toilet. But she was very
 
 ** WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU, EWENV 223 
 
 cheerful when she came downstairs, and she took 
 no notice of Ewen's taciturnity. She would not 
 allow her aunt to question him about his progress 
 with the sermon. " Students never like to be 
 questioned," she observed smilingly, and she 
 covered his silence by talking herself on every 
 possible subject except one — she never mentioned 
 Clacton. 
 
 Ewen, numbed and frozen by hours of solitary 
 brooding, felt a little warmed and cheered by his 
 cousin's placid liveliness. He did not refuse food, 
 as he had at dinner, and he showed his need of it 
 by the avidity with which he swallowed it. When 
 Winifred quietly replenished his cup he took it 
 thankfully, and when he at last pushed aside his 
 plate there was more colour in his face. Neither 
 of the women offered any objection when he 
 announced his intention of going back to his 
 sermon. Mrs. Logan looked after him wistfully, 
 and her lips opened, but Winifred nudged her 
 significantly. 
 
 "Let him feel free to do as he likes," she 
 whispered, and as usual her good sense prevailed. 
 
 When prayers were over, Mrs. Logan gave her 
 son an appealing glance. 
 
 "You will not be sitting up, my boy," she said, 
 laying a thin hand on his shoulder, with the worn
 
 224 '' WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU, EWENt'' 
 
 wedding-ring very loose on it, and her voice was 
 soft and coaxing. 
 
 "No, mother, I think not," he answered, with 
 unusual gentleness; and then a touch of compunction 
 made him add, " I will try to be more sociable 
 to-morrow." 
 
 Winifred said nothing, except a brief good night 
 as she left the room ; but an hour later she opened 
 her door gently and crept downstairs. She was 
 still in the old black silk that looked so worn and 
 shiny in the daylight, and a little grey woollen 
 shawl was over her shoulders. Her pince-nez was 
 dangling from her neck, and the large, short- 
 sighted eyes looked a little pathetic. The little 
 parlour was so dark that for a moment she could 
 not distinguish anything. Ewen had turned out 
 the gas, and had sat down to the fire as though to 
 warm himself; his elbows were on his knees, and 
 his chin propped on them. Winifred could see 
 the gleaming of his spectacles as she came towards 
 him. 
 
 He made no remark as she knelt down and 
 roused the fire ; but when a tiny blaze spurted up, 
 she turned to him and said quietly, "What is 
 wrong with you, Ewen ? " Then he started in 
 earnest 
 
 "What do you mean?" he returned, and his
 
 '' WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU, EWENV 22$ 
 
 voice was rather gruff. " Why are you not in bed, 
 Winnie? It is half-past eleven at least." 
 
 " It is more than that," she replied placidly. " 1 
 am not sleepy, so I thought I would keep you 
 company. Tell me all about it, Ewen. I have 
 guessed your trouble already ; it flashed upon me 
 in a moment. It is about Miss Carrick ; you care 
 for her" — Winifred could not bring herself to say 
 " love ; " the word stuck in her throat — " and she 
 has disappointed you." 
 
 A dark flush sprang to Ewen's brow. "How 
 could you know.? I have never mentioned her 
 name," he stammered. "Are you a witch, 
 Winnie.?" for there was something uncanny to 
 him in the way she had surprised his carefully 
 guarded secret. 
 
 " No," she said quietly ; " but it is not easy to 
 deceive me. You and Aunt Janet are all I have 
 in the world, and your joys and sorrows are mine. 
 You believe that, do you not, Ewen t " 
 
 She spoke without excitement. She was still 
 kneeling before the fire, and her strong white 
 hands were loosely folded before her. There was 
 nothing in her expression or manner that conveyed 
 the idea of suppressed emotion ; it might have 
 been his childish confidante Winnie begging to 
 share his trouble. 
 
 VOL. II. 34
 
 226 '' WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU, EWENV 
 
 For a moment he hesitated, but she had chosen 
 her opportunity well ; the quiet hour, the shadowy 
 room, were all in her favour. After all, why 
 should he keep his pain to himself? Winnie was 
 reliable ; she never chattered about other folk's 
 business ; she had a still tongue when she chose ; 
 she always knew the right thing to say, and when 
 to say it. And so it was that Ewen opened his 
 heart to her, and the story of his four years' love 
 was made plain to her. 
 
 Winifred listened to it all in silence ; she knew 
 better than to interrupt him by a word. Now and 
 then her eyes grew moist, and once she shivered 
 slightly ; but she had herself well in hand, and 
 Ewen never noticed these signs of agitation. 
 
 " It is all over, Winnie," he finished ; "she will 
 never care for me — never ! " 
 
 She seemed to take counsel with the fire before 
 she answered him. If Ewen hoped that she would 
 contradict him, he was disappointed. To Winifred's 
 strong common sense, it would have been cruelty 
 to fan the expiring hope. 
 
 "No," she said, very slowly and sadly, "she will 
 never care for you ; you are right to give it up, 
 Ewen." 
 
 He winced at her plain speaking, as though she 
 had touched a wound. In spite of his despair, was
 
 ** WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU, EWENV 22/ 
 
 there still a lingering spark of hope that Winifred 
 had quenched ? 
 
 "All these four years have been years wasted. 
 I have given her the best of my life ! " he exclaimed 
 bitterly. 
 
 Then Winifred turned her face to him. " They 
 have not been wasted, Ewen," she said softly. "No 
 time or love that we give to one of our fellow- 
 creatures is ever or can be ever wasted ; it is blas- 
 phemy even to hint at such a thing." 
 
 " I do not understand you," he replied drearily. 
 " What has been the use of it all, either to her or 
 myself?" 
 
 " Dear Ewen, that is more than I can say. No 
 man, or woman either, could ever properly answer 
 that question ; nevertheless, it is the truth I am 
 telling you. Your love for Gloden Carrick has not 
 been wasted, and never will be." 
 
 " I cannot follow you, Winifred." 
 
 " No, dear, perhaps not ; one must work out all 
 these problems for one's self. If I did not hold this 
 belief" — and here her voice trembled a little — "I 
 should not be the contented woman I am. You 
 must take this comfort to yourself — that the love 
 you have felt for Gloden all these years have 
 wrought some blessing for her, if not for yourself. 
 Ewen, you know more than I ; it is for you to
 
 228 '' WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU, EWEN V 
 
 teach US. ' Through much tribulation ' How 
 
 does that verse end ? " 
 
 " Don't, Winnie ; you make me ashamed of 
 myself. What a selfish fellow I have been ! But 
 she has bowled me over utterly. How am I to 
 live my life without her ? Do you know, I hate 
 the idea of Clacton." 
 
 "Never mind all that, Ewen." Then, as he 
 looked at her in surprise, " Never mind how you 
 feel about things ; you must just go on living, and 
 let the feelings take care of themselves. You are 
 unhappy, my poor boy — yes, I know that — but all 
 the same you will do your duty." 
 
 He shook his head. "Just now, before you 
 came downstairs, I told myself that I should never 
 be able to preach again." 
 
 "You will preach far better than you ever have 
 done ; this pain is part of your clerical education. 
 I am not afraid either for you or your people." 
 Then she stopped, and said persuasively, " You 
 will let me tell Aunt Janet about this t " 
 
 " Is it necessary ? Why should we make her 
 unhappy ? " 
 
 " It will not make her more unhappy ; she 
 already guesses that you are in trouble. I think 
 we owe it to her, Ewen." 
 
 Then he made no further objection. " You must
 
 '' WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU, EWENV 229 
 
 tell her not to speak to me about it. Gloden's 
 name must not be mentioned between us." 
 
 " I think you may trust Aunt Janet ; and it is 
 far better for her to know." She hesitated, cleared 
 her voice, and then went on a little hurriedly, 
 ** When you and Aunt Janet are alone together at 
 Clacton, it will never do to keep her in the dark 
 about things." 
 
 " What on earth do you mean, Winnie ? Why 
 should mother and I be alone ? " 
 
 " I had not meant to speak of this to-night, 
 Ewen, and it is so late ; but perhaps I had better 
 say it. You will make a home for Aunt Janet, of 
 course — it is what you and she have always wished ; 
 but it does not follow that you are to make one for 
 your cousin ; " but Winifred did not look at him 
 as she spoke. 
 
 " What nonsense is this ? " he exclaimed angrily. 
 " Are you refusing to cast in your lot with us after 
 all these years ? You know as well as I do that 
 you are necessary to my mother, and that neither 
 of us can get on without you." 
 
 " You will soon learn to do without me," she 
 replied, but, in spite of her efforts, she could not 
 keep the tears out of her voice ; '' and Aunt Janet 
 is stronger and better now. Indeed — indeed, you 
 must try and see things from my point of view.
 
 230 '' WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU, EWEN\'' 
 
 How could I live in dependence on a cousin? — not 
 even a brother ; and how do you suppose I could 
 get my living in a place like Clacton-over-Fields ? 
 No, no ; you and Aunt Janet will be as cosy as 
 possible, and you must just leave me behind. 
 Mrs. Parry will be too thankful to find room for 
 me in the Red House, and if you choose to give 
 me an invitation for the midsummer and Christ- 
 mas holidays, why, I shall accept them thankfully." 
 
 " But, Winifred, this is absurd. As long as I 
 have a roof over my head I shall expect you to 
 make your home with us. You are my mother's 
 adopted daughter, and " 
 
 " And Ewen Logan's adopted sister," she finished 
 playfully, but her eyes were wet. " Thank you a 
 thousand times for your generosity, my dear cousin, 
 but my mind is made up. When Aunt Janet goes 
 to Clacton Vicarage, I shall take up my quarters at 
 the Red House as an independent working woman. 
 Now I really must bid you good night, or rather 
 good morning, for it will soon strike one, and I am 
 positively growing sleepy ; " and then she took his 
 hand and smiled in his face, and Winifred's smile 
 was very sweet.
 
 CHAPTER XIII 
 
 BROTHER DANIEL. 
 
 " Adapt thyself to the things with which thy lot has been cast ; 
 and the men among whom thou hast received thy portion, love 
 them, but do it [sincerely]." — M. Aurelius Antoninus. 
 
 S Reginald Lorimer walked home through 
 the wintry twilight that evening, he told 
 himself that not many days should elapse before 
 he found some pretext for repeating his visit. 
 
 When he had said to Gloden that it would be 
 impossible for him to keep away, he was acting 
 under the influence of an overmastering impulse. 
 He no longer disguised from himself that the girl 
 attracted him strangely. She was unlike any one 
 whom he had ever met. She reminded him of 
 some rare flower hidden in a deserted garden. 
 She had unfolded slowly and with reluctance,
 
 232 BROTHER DANIEL. 
 
 but it seemed to him now as though her pale 
 bloom had a delicate beauty in it that exactly 
 suited his taste. 
 
 But though this new friendship, as he termed 
 it, was beginning to dominate his thoughts, he 
 never called it by its right name ; the idea that 
 he was falling in love for the first time in his life, 
 before Car had lain in her grave a twelvemonth, 
 would have shocked him utterly. 
 
 But he was lonely and restless — this is how he 
 put it to himself — and Gloden Carrick's music 
 and her soft voice and quiet movements soothed 
 and rested him. He was at his ease with her. 
 She never seemed to expect him to pay her 
 attention, and even when she was in one of her 
 perverse moods, and kept him at a distance, she 
 amused and interested him. 
 
 " She gives me very little encouragement," he 
 said to himself, as he walked leisurely down the 
 Silcote road; "she is always trying to put me in 
 my right place. She is the proudest and the 
 pluckiest girl I ever knew. But I like her all the 
 better for her quiet insolence ; it seems to draw a 
 fellow on, and, though she told me just now that 
 it would be better for me to stay away, there was 
 a look in her eyes that contradicted her words. 
 If she would only let herself go and forget all
 
 BROTHER DANIEL. 233 
 
 this nonsense about her uncle's shop, we should 
 be good friends." 
 
 But though Reginald's will was good, he was 
 unable to carry out his intentions. One of Lady 
 Car's numerous cousins wrote to propose a visit 
 to Silcote. The young squire, who was the soul 
 of hospitality, gladly welcomed his guest ; and 
 Sir Charles Egerton, who found his quarters com- 
 fortable, was easily induced to send for his wife 
 and eldest daughter. After all, Reginald was to 
 eat his Christmas dinner at his brother-in-law's 
 house, for pressure of business detained Felix in 
 town, and as Ninian had a bad feverish cold, 
 Constance was unwilling to leave home. 
 
 And so it was that Mr. Lorimer found no 
 opportunity of repeating his visit to Market 
 Street, and was obliged to content himself with 
 sending messages through Harvey when he spent 
 his usual Saturday afternoons at Silcote Park. 
 
 Harvey had a great deal to say about Sir 
 Charles Egerton, whom, he informed Gloden, was 
 one of the biggest swells he had ever seen, but 
 not a bad fellow on the whole. And about Lady 
 Egerton, who was a flimsy, conceited piece of 
 goods, in Harvey's estimation, with a fine lady's 
 drawl, and a patronizing air that angered him ex- 
 cessively. And he had scant reverence for the slim,
 
 234 BROTHER DANIEL. 
 
 large-eyed Ursula, who was at that uncertain age 
 of budding womanhood when youthful gaiicheries 
 blend with tremulous dignity. To Harvey this 
 big, solemn young person was an anomaly. 
 
 " There is nothing she can do, and nothing 
 she cares about, except reading ; and Lady Eger- 
 ton is always nagging at her for hunching her 
 shoulders and spoiling her eyes," went on Harvey. 
 " I pity her for having such a mother. I think 
 Mr. Lorimer pities her too, for he is always trying 
 to draw her out." 
 
 " I wonder you care to go there so much under 
 the circumstances," was Gloden's rejoinder. 
 
 But Harvey flared up at this. What did it 
 matter if a hundred disagreeable people were at 
 Silcote, as long as he had his friend } 
 
 " He is jollier than ever, I can tell you that, 
 Glow," he finished. " He is just like a great big 
 brother to me." And thereupon Gloden held her 
 peace. 
 
 But she was very grateful in her heart to 
 Harvey's friend ; and now and then the thought 
 crossed her that, if only circumstances had been 
 different, she might have been his friend too. 
 
 " He is always trying to be kind to me now," 
 she said to herself. " I think it is his way to be 
 kind ; he likes to see people happy, and to be
 
 BROTHER DANIEL, 2^$ 
 
 happy himself. He has a sunshiny nature, one 
 can see that, in spite of his trouble. And he is 
 not selfish ; he would go out of his way to help 
 people." 
 
 Gloden told herself that she was glad, very 
 glad, that Mr. Lorimer had not come again. It 
 was far better for them both that there should 
 be no repetition of his visit. And yet when 
 Christmas had arrived, and the hall was empty, 
 she was conscious of a vague feeling of discomfort. 
 
 It was her Uncle Reuben who had returned 
 from the station, and had brought them the news 
 that he had seen the squire and his guests enter- 
 ing the London train. 
 
 " They had a mountain of luggage with them," 
 he remarked ; " it took all the porters to wait on 
 them. The squire saw me, and wished me a 
 happy Christmas, and sent his kind regards to 
 the ladies. And where is Harvey ^ " — interrupt- 
 ing himself. "There was a goodish-sized box, 
 and as heavy as lead, waiting for him at the 
 station, which I brought up with me. The 
 station-master told me it had just come from 
 London, and that he was going to send it on. 
 It is a present from the squire, I'll be bound. 
 He will spoil the lad. We shall never make an 
 honest tradesman of him, shall we, Clem ? " and
 
 236 BROTHER DANIEL, 
 
 Reuben rubbed his hands gleefully, quite unaware 
 that his words had given Gloden a stab. 
 
 " Make a tradesman of you, my darling ! " she 
 repeated indignantly to herself. " Never, if I 
 have to go on my knees to prevent it ! " and the 
 next moment she heard Harvey calling to her 
 excitedly to come and inspect his treasure. 
 
 Uncle Reuben was right. It was the squire's 
 Christmas gift to his boy-friend. Harvey was 
 almost voiceless with delight. It was a set of 
 carpenter's tools in a handsome oak box — the 
 best and handsomest that could be got for 
 money ; and Gloden felt a little pang at the 
 costliness of the gift, but she dare not give vent 
 to this feeling. 
 
 " How very, very kind ! " she murmured, as she 
 pretended to inspect a chisel. 
 
 Harvey gave a scornful little laugh ; his voice 
 wasn't quite under control. 
 
 "Kind ! " he repeated. "Can't you find a bigger 
 word than that, Glow ? He gets better and kinder 
 every day. He has got the heart of a king ; he is 
 magnificently generous ! " And here, in despair of 
 finding fitting words in which to express his feel- 
 ings, Harvey brought the hammer in contact with 
 the table so sharply that Griff started from his 
 sleep and began to bark furiously.
 
 BROTHER DANIEL. 237 
 
 " Hold your tongue, you duffer ! " exclaimed his 
 young master, brutally ; " ' for if dogs had nerves 
 like humans, where were you ? ' Lie down, and 
 leave your betters to talk. By-the-by, Glow, I 
 have never given you the squire's message, and it 
 was a pretty long one, I can tell you ; I don't 
 remember the half of it." 
 
 Gloden felt a little injured at this. When 
 Harvey had so much, he might have taken the 
 trouble to remember a message. But it was no 
 good scolding him ; boys were proverbially careless. 
 
 " I shall think of it directly," continued Harvey, 
 pleasantly ; he was ignorant of his sister's hurt 
 feelings. " Won't I make a famous set of book- 
 shelves for Uncle Reuben's birthday t He will be 
 fine and pleased — ay, Glow } Don't you wish 
 you were me, instead of being a girl, and then 
 Mr. Lorimer could send you presents } " 
 
 "I would rather that you should have them," 
 she replied gently. " Have you remembered any 
 of the message yet, Harvey ? " 
 
 " Well, I think I have it now. He sent his love, 
 and " 
 
 " He did nothing of the kind ; you ought to be 
 ashamed of yourself for inventing such things ; '* 
 and Gloden coloured with annoyance. 
 
 Harvey looked up in placid astonishment.
 
 238 BROTHER DANIEL. 
 
 " Why are you exciting- yourself so ? Well, per- 
 haps he did not send love ; it was kind regards, 
 or some such rubbish. You must not expect me 
 to remember all that. Now, don't interrupt me 
 again, or I shall forget everything. His kind 
 regards, and he was awfully sorry, and all that 
 kind of thing, that he had not been able to call 
 and say good-bye, but he wished you a happy 
 Christmas, and hoped you would be comfortable." 
 
 "And is that all.?" It was a disappointing 
 message, but of course Harvey had forgotten half. 
 
 " Well, it is all I can remember," replied Harvey, 
 truthfully ; " but he was a long time saying it. 
 I think, from his manner, he had been wanting 
 to come dreadfully, only those old Egertons pre- 
 vented it. I know he said he was awfully sorry 
 two or three times over, and then he told me to 
 take care of you, and not let you tramp out all 
 weathers. 'Your sister is delicate, and you must 
 look after her.' I could not help laughing at that. 
 You are not delicate, are you. Glow ? " 
 
 Gloden shook her head ; she felt slightly 
 mollified. He had meant to bid them good-bye, 
 then, and it was not his fault that he had been 
 unable to do so ; and he had begged Harvey to 
 take care of her. It was kind — it was very kind of 
 Mr. Lorimer to trouble himself about her. After
 
 BROTHER DANIEL. 239 
 
 all, the message had not been so disappointing, 
 and she forgave Harvey for his thoughtlessness. 
 
 Harvey's grand tool-box made him completely 
 happy, and gave him and Bernard Trevor plenty 
 of occupation. Uncle Reuben's bookshelves were 
 measured, and a wood-box for Aunt Clemency 
 designed, and during the daylight hours both 
 lads were busy in a lower room that was turned 
 into a workshop. 
 
 To Gloden Christmas could not be otherwise 
 than dull. Violet Winter had gone to town, so 
 there were no more visits to the Gate House for 
 the present ; and, in spite of efforts on hers and 
 Winifred's part to appear as though nothing had 
 happened, their relations were somewhat strained, 
 and Gloden saw little of her friends in Chapel 
 Street. But she fought her depression bravely. 
 She practised her violin, and studied Italian 
 sedulously, and was always ready when Harvey 
 wanted her to walk or play chess with him. 
 
 It was evident, too, that Clemency had some- 
 thing on her mind, though, as usual, she kept it 
 to herself; but the reason of the secret uneasiness 
 that marred her enjoyment of Christmas was this : 
 Clemency had one brother, to whom she was 
 much attached. He was a draper at Stapleton, a 
 town about eighteen miles distant, and it had
 
 240 BROTHER DANIEL. 
 
 always been a custom for Daniel Moore and his 
 family to spend Twelfth-night with Clemency and 
 her husband. 
 
 For the first time in her life Clemency looked 
 forward to this evening with dread. Daniel was 
 Daniel, and she could not pick holes in her own 
 flesh and blood ; but whatever would Gloden say 
 to Eliza, with her dressiness and loud voice ? " Not 
 that there is any harm in Eliza," thought Clemency 
 with momentary compunction ; " for she is a good- 
 hearted creature, and makes Daniel an excellent 
 wife, and she has an eye for business that makes 
 me ashamed of myself. But though Lavinia and 
 Mary Anne are my own nieces, they are not to 
 my taste. It is their upbringing, poor things ! 
 Eliza was all for accomplishments and outward 
 show, and so their manners have suffered. They 
 are young and flighty ; maybe they will settle 
 down when they get husbands of their own." 
 
 "I suppose you have been hearing from Daniel," 
 observed Reuben, one evening when the young 
 folks had retired, " and you have been ordering 
 your goose as usual ? " for hot goose was always 
 the piece de resistance on these occasions. 
 
 " I am afraid Dan and Eliza would be affronted 
 if we passed them over this Christmas," returned 
 Clemency, in a deprecatory tone.
 
 BROTHER DANIEL. 24 1 
 
 Then Reuben laid down his pipe and stared 
 at her in surprise. *' Whatever has come to you, 
 wife ?" he asked mildly. " It is not like you to be 
 setting aside old customs. Why, Daniel and Eliza 
 have eaten their Twelfth-night supper with us ever 
 since we were married. And there's Lavinia's 
 sweetheart, too ; he is a decent sort of young chap, 
 they tell me, and she would be bringing him, of 
 course." 
 
 " I am thinking of Gloden, Reuben," returned 
 his wife, slowly. It is no want of good-will to 
 my own belongings, but there is your niece to be 
 considered. Gloden is stand-offish by nature, and 
 she does not take to our friends, and Lavinia and 
 Polly are not always as nice-mannered as I should 
 wish them to be." And here Clemency broke off 
 in much distress, for a most unusual frown was 
 spreading over Reuben's forehead. 
 
 "You astonish me, Clem," he said rather 
 severely. " Do you suppose your folk are to suffer 
 because my brother's children have come under 
 my roof.-* Nay, nay; there is no justice in that. 
 Daniel shall eat his Twelfth-night supper here as 
 usual. Your relations shall be as kindly welcome 
 as mine. Gloden may be uppish, but she must 
 put aside her pride for one evening, and help us 
 entertain our guests. I am not one for spoiling 
 VOL. II. 35
 
 242 BROTHER DANIEL. 
 
 young people, and keeping them from doing their 
 duty. So you will set about writing at once to 
 Daniel, if you wish to please me ; and you can tell 
 Lavinia, with my love, to bring her spark if 
 she likes — Hector Bradley ; isn't that his name ? 
 A heathenish sort of name, too, for a clerk in a 
 bank." 
 
 "Very well, Reuben," returned Clemency, duti- 
 fully ; for she knew better than to argue with her 
 husband when he was in one of his high moods. 
 Any want of consideration to Clemency always 
 set his back up, as he phrased it. 
 
 '' She is a cut above most women, and no one 
 shall look down on her," he would say in his 
 rough chivalry ; for no knight ever fought more 
 bravely for his lady of delight than Reuben Carrick 
 for the rights of his homely little wife. 
 
 "My brother and his family always have supper 
 with us on Twelfth-night," observed Clemency, a 
 little timidly, when she found herself alone with 
 her niece the evening before the festivity. 
 
 Gloden looked up from her work in some 
 surprise. " I did not know you had a brother, 
 Aunt Clemency." 
 
 " Dear heart ! to think of that, and Daniel the 
 only brother I ever had ! but it is not often we 
 meet, for we are both of us busy people."
 
 BROTHER DANIEL. 243 
 
 " I suppose he lives at a distance? " 
 
 "Well, it is not what you call far. Stapleton 
 is about eighteen miles from here. He has the 
 draper's shop, and he and Eliza are most busy all 
 the year round ; but on Daniel's birthday and mine, 
 and on Twelfth-night, we generally sup together." 
 
 " That must be very pleasant for you," returned 
 Gloden, with chilly politeness. 
 
 An irritable sensation, as of multitudinous pins 
 and needles, began to torment her. The draper's 
 shop at Stapleton loomed largely in the background 
 of her consciousness. 
 
 Clemency, who was very sensitive on the subject 
 of her belongings, detected a certain irony in 
 Gloden's tone. 
 
 " We have always been good friends, Daniel 
 and me," she returned. " Eliza did not hit it off 
 with me at first. She was a smart woman, and 
 thought a deal of things about which I never 
 troubled my head. But there, it takes all kinds of 
 people to make up a world ; and she is thoroughly 
 good-hearted. As for Lavinia and Polly, they are 
 not your sort, I am afraid ; but it is their upbringing, 
 poor lassies. Eliza was always for spoiling the 
 girls." 
 
 ** Are they — are they all coming to-morrow } " 
 asked Gloden, faintly.
 
 244 BROTHER DANIEL. 
 
 "Dear me! yes. Eliza never stirs anywhere 
 without the girls ; and they will bring a visitor 
 with them too. Lavinia has a sweetheart ; he is 
 a very steady, promising young fellow. Daniel 
 :jays his name is Hector Bradley, and he is in 
 the Stapleton bank." Then, as she caught sight 
 of her niece's face, she added hurriedly, " I hope 
 you will put up with it, Gloden, \i the company is 
 not to your taste ; for, as your Uncle Reuben says, 
 it is ill work breaking with old customs." 
 
 " I hope I shall never interfere with any of your 
 old customs, Aunt Clemency," returned Gloden, 
 shortly, as she folded up her work. 
 
 She did not wish to appear ungracious, but there 
 was no mistaking her manner ; and poor Clemency 
 went downstairs with a sigh, to see the batch of 
 mince-pies that Patty had turned out of the oven. 
 
 Meanwhile, Gloden carried her grievance to 
 Harvey ; but if she had hoped for sympathy she 
 was disappointed. Harvey first listened with deep 
 interest to his sister's account, and then the sight 
 of her disgusted face so aroused his risibility, that 
 he flung himself face downward on the old chintz 
 couch in convulsions of mirth. 
 
 Gloden gazed at him in affronted silence. 
 " How can you be so absurd, Harvey } " she said 
 at last.
 
 BROTHER DANIEL. 245 
 
 "Absurd ! you will kill me, Gloden, if you stand 
 there looking like a tragedy queen. Why don't 
 you see the fun of things, like me ? Did you say 
 the fellow's name was Hector ? I wonder if he 
 has a brother Achilles ? And he is Lavinia's young 
 man. Good lack, what names ! Cheer up. Glow ; 
 it will be a regular lark. Perhaps they will play 
 kiss-in-the-ring and hunt-the-slipper." 
 
 " It is no use talking to you, Harvey, when you 
 are in one of your ridiculous moods." 
 
 And as he only buried his head in the sofa- 
 cushions in another convulsive fit of merriment, 
 Gloden left him ; and Harvey jumped up and went 
 in search of his aunt. 
 
 He found her making an apple-turnover for his 
 supper ; he had made the remark at dinner-time 
 that apple-turnovers were first-rate. At the sight of 
 his favourite delicacy, he gave her a rough hug, 
 and then seated himself on the kitchen table. 
 
 " You are a first-rate hand at cooking, aren't you, 
 Aunt Clem ? Are all those tarts and pies for the 
 supper to-morrow } What are you doing now ? " — 
 for Aunt Clemency had turned her attention to 
 some eggs, that she was beating up with much 
 energy. 
 
 " It is only the custard ; but I want to give my 
 mind to it."
 
 246 BROTHER DANIEL. 
 
 But, disregarding this hint, Harvey propped his 
 chin on his hands and watched the operation. 
 
 " Why did you not tell us you had a brother ? " 
 he began abruptly. " Is he like you, Aunt Clem ? 
 He must be a good sort if he is." 
 
 Then the soft colour came into Clemency's faded 
 cheek. " He is better than I shall ever be, my dear ; 
 but your uncle says we should never be taken for 
 brother and sister. He is a fine-looking man, is 
 Daniel ; and Eliza was an uncommonly handsome 
 girl. They called her the belle of Stapleton when 
 she was young. I think Lavvy features her 
 mother ; Polly has no good looks to boast of." 
 
 "And Achilles — I mean Hector — is he good- 
 looking too ? " 
 
 " He is nothing out of the common, Eliza says ; 
 but he has good principles, which is a sight better 
 than good looks. I am afraid they are not your 
 sort, Harvey, or Gloden's either. My folk are 
 plain people, and do not pretend to hold up their 
 heads like gentlefolks. They have not had your 
 advantages ; there's a deal in that." 
 
 " All right ; I see what you mean. Well, I 
 won't spoil your custard any longer, Aunt Clem ; " 
 and Harvey rushed off. 
 
 When Aunt Clem made these humble speeches, 
 he never knew how to take them. " We must just
 
 BROTHER DANIEL, 
 
 247 
 
 put up with it, you know," he said, with unusual 
 seriousness, when his sister came to wish him good 
 night. "Don't mount your high horse. Glow; it 
 is not worth it. We shall have to be civil for 
 Aunt Clem's sake ; and they may not be so bad. 
 Just follow my example. I am going to enjoy the 
 fun and the tuck-out ; " and with this philosophical 
 remark, the young follower of Epicurus turned over 
 on his pillow and was soon asleep.
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 AMONG THE PHILISTINES. 
 
 " Do what thou mightest, and come what c6me can." 
 
 Ancient Proverb. 
 
 ' * In one respect man is the nearest thing to me, so far as I must 
 do good to man, and endure them." — M. Aurelius Antoninus. 
 
 I^HLODEN was somewhat rebuked by Harvey's 
 '^^^' philosophical cheerfulness, and certain 
 pricks of conscience made themselves felt. 
 
 The next morning she asked her aunt quite 
 pleasantly if she could not help Patty ; and, after 
 a momentary hesitation, Clemency inquired if she 
 would mind polishing the glass and china for the 
 supper-table. 
 
 "The shop takes me off so much," she said 
 apologetically, " and it is not as though I could 
 give my mind to things ; and Patty is young, 
 though she is willing. When my sister-in-law 
 gives supper-parties, she has Lavinia and Polly to
 
 AMONG THE PHILISTINES. 249 
 
 help her, and they are full of notions that they 
 have got from their smart friends. They think a 
 deal of smartness," she continued, with a glance at 
 Gloden's black stuff, " and that is why your Uncle 
 Reuben insists on my wearing my new black silk 
 that he bought me last Christmas, and that has 
 lain in lavender ever since, though it is far too 
 good for the occasion." 
 
 " I cannot make myself smart, I am afraid. Aunt 
 Clemency," returned Gloden, quickly, for this hint 
 was not thrown away on her. 
 
 " The frock you wore at Dr. Parry's, when they 
 had that children's party and you played for them, 
 would do as well as possible, and it fits you to a 
 nicety." For Clemency loved a quiet daintiness in 
 dress, and Gloden's fine black cashmere, with soft 
 ruffles at neck and wrists, was just to her taste, 
 and in her opinion set off the slim, graceful figure 
 remarkably well. 
 
 " I will wear it if you wish, Aunt Clemency," 
 was Gloden's reply, for she had made up her mind 
 to behave as well as she could. Harvey's words, 
 "We must be civil for Aunt Clem's sake," had 
 appealed to her sense of rightness. " I will try to 
 make myself pleasant for this one evening," she 
 said to herself; and she dressed herself in time to 
 help Patty with the table.
 
 2 50 AMONG THE PHILISTINES. 
 
 " Dear me, Gloden, I call that beautiful ! " ex- 
 claimed Mrs. Carrick, as she rustled into the room 
 in her new black silk, a little breathless with her 
 haste. " I wonder whatever Eliza and the girls 
 will say to that t " For Gloden, who had an innate 
 talent for decorations, had decked the table very 
 prettily with holly-berries and evergreens, and had 
 folded Aunt Clemency's fine napkins in some 
 wonderful manner. '' They look for all the world 
 like white flowers," she admiringly continued. 
 
 " I am glad you are satisfied," returned Gloden, 
 looking at her work with pardonable pride. " The 
 fire is burning up beautifully in the best room, 
 Aunt Clemency, and the tea-table is all laid out, 
 and looks as nice as possible." 
 
 " That it does ; and I am ever so much obliged 
 to you, Gloden," returned Clemency, warmly. 
 She would have liked to have given the girl a 
 kiss in token of her gratitude, but she dared not 
 venture on such a liberty ; no kiss had yet passed 
 between them. " I will not forget this in a hurry," 
 she continued ; " for, what with your Uncle Reuben 
 wanting me so much in the shop, and fearing that 
 things would never be ready, I got quite in a 
 fidget. But now I am a lady at large, and can 
 just sit with my hands before me." 
 
 " Gloden, there is a button off my wristband ! "
 
 AMONG THE PHILISTINES. 25 I 
 
 exclaimed Harvey, bursting into the room. 
 " Come and sew it on for me, there's a good girl ; " 
 and Gloden immediately went in search of her 
 workbox. 
 
 " Eliza won't get over those napkins," thought 
 Clemency, as she moved away after them with a 
 pleased smile ; and the next moment the door- 
 bell pealed through the house. 
 
 Harvey dragged Gloden with him to peep over 
 the banisters. 
 
 " That is brother Daniel," he observed, in a loud 
 whisper, as a big man came within view. ** And do 
 you see that stout party in purple satin ? My word, 
 isn't she a stunner ! " 
 
 But Gloden would not listen to any more, 
 though Harvey still insisted on leaning over, at 
 the peril of his neck, for a good look at the 
 girls. 
 
 "That Hector Bradley looks rather a cad," he 
 remarked, in an injured voice, as he rejoined his 
 sister. " He has red hair, and looks all collar. 
 They are awfully smart, those girls ; they are all 
 colours of the rainbow. I hope they won't think 
 you a dowd, Antelope ; " and then he relaxed into 
 a chuckle. " I don't think much of Lavvy's young 
 man." 
 
 " I suppose we must go down now," observed
 
 252 AMONG THE PHILISTINES. 
 
 Gloden, after a few minutes ; and, as Harvey- 
 wanted his tea, he agreed to this with alacrity. 
 
 The sound of voices was almost deafening when 
 they entered the room. The Moore family had 
 excellent lungs, and it was a habit of theirs to 
 talk all together, which was rather confusing to 
 strangers, and especially as their good opinion of 
 themselves prevented any shyness. 
 
 " I suppose this is the niece you have been tell- 
 ing me about, Clem ? " observed Mrs. Moore, a 
 high-coloured woman of goodly dimensions, 
 dressed in questionable taste ; and she shook 
 Gloden's hand heartily. " I am glad to see you, 
 miss ; and, as we are amongst friends, I can tell 
 you you are a lucky girl to have found such snug 
 quarters. Reuben is a warm man, though he 
 keeps it close ; " and she shook a fore-finger at 
 him playfully as she spoke. 
 
 "How do you do, Mrs. Moore?" remarked 
 Harvey, easily. " I am very well, thank you, and 
 so is Gloden. Why do you call Uncle Reuben 
 a warm man, eh t I suppose it is some joke. 
 You are a little warm yourself, are you not ? Shall 
 I fetch a fire-screen ? or perhaps you will prefer 
 a fan. It is not pleasant to feel hot, is it ? " — with 
 the utmost friendliness. " I never suffer from heat 
 myself. I wonder " — confidentially — " which is
 
 AMONG THE PHILISTINES. 253 
 
 Miss Lavinia and which is Miss Polly? I suppose 
 it is Miss Lavinia in the pink frock, because that 
 gentleman is talking to her. He is engaged to 
 her, is he not ? " 
 
 " Bless me, what a precocious young gentleman 
 you are ! " returned Mrs. Moore, delightedly. 
 " Yes, that is Lavvy. Come here, Lavinia. Here 
 is some one wants to make your acquaintance." 
 And in another moment Harvey was in the 
 midst of a group ; for not only Lavinia, but her 
 sister. Miss Polly, and the red-haired, large-collared 
 Hector joined the circle. 
 
 Harvey was quite equal to the occasion. He 
 leant against the mantelpiece, with one foot crossed 
 over the other in an easy attitude, and a lock of 
 hair tumbling over his forehead. "• Why did they 
 call you Hector 1 " Gloden heard him say. ** Was 
 it a family name, Mr. Bradley? I am not finding 
 fault with it," continued Harvey, with engaging 
 politeness, "but I have the misfortune to be 
 curious by nature. It is one of my besetting sins, 
 Miss Polly. You are Polly, aren't you ? " 
 
 " Dear heart ! they are all in love with him 
 already," thought Clemency, as she rinsed out the 
 orange-coloured cups that were the pride of her 
 heart ; " and he is behaving like a prince, bless 
 him ! "
 
 2 54 AMONG THE PHILISTINES. 
 
 " I hope — I hope they will not find out how he 
 is chaffing them," thought Gloden, in an agony, 
 as the tittering laugh waxed louder and louder. 
 *' He is in such high spirits to-night, and so brim- 
 ful of mischief, that I am afraid that he will end 
 by doing something dreadful, and it is no use my 
 trying to keep him in order." But she quailed 
 inwardly as scraps of conversation reached her ear. 
 
 Harvey was becoming audacious. He seemed 
 to have taken a fancy to Polly — a plain, good- 
 tempered-looking girl, with a loud voice and an 
 outrageous style of hair. " Doesn't it hurt you 
 to have all those pins running into you ? " he 
 observed by-and-by. " It must bother you awfully 
 to get your hair into that frizzy pile. Oh, it is the 
 fashion, is it ? " — some remark to this effect having 
 reached his ear. " Don't you wish you were queen, 
 and could stop all these stupid fashions ? If I 
 were you I should comb it quite smooth ; it would 
 look ever so much nicer." 
 
 "You leave Polly's hair alone, and hand me 
 another muffin," interrupted Mrs. Moore, in high 
 good humour. She was charmed with the boy, and 
 so was Polly, and so was Lavinia, only she did 
 not dare to show it openly, as Hector was jealous 
 by nature. " He is beginning early, is he not, 
 Reuben, making love to my Polly like that ? "
 
 AMONG THE PHILISTINES. 255 
 
 " Who could help falling in love with Miss 
 Polly!" exclaimed Harvey, sentimentally ; and then 
 he caught an imploring glance from Gloden. 
 
 " It is all right, Glow," he whispered, as he 
 handed her some cake; "we must do at Rome as 
 the Romans do. Miss Polly likes it hot and spicy. 
 She asked me if I admired hers and Lavvy's style 
 of hair, and she wondered that you did not do 
 yours more in the fashion ; so what was I to say 
 when she had turned her head into a pincushion?" 
 
 " But do be careful, Harvey. It is very nice of 
 you to make yourself so pleasant to these people, 
 but there is no occasion to carry it too far." 
 
 " Polly declares that she is a sort of cousin," 
 went on Harvey. " I was obliged to tell her that 
 there was no relationship between us. It was 
 precious cool of her, wasn't it ? I mean to try 
 brother Daniel, for a change." And, to her horror, 
 she saw him the next minute plant himself opposite 
 Mr. Moore, with his thumbs in the armholes of his 
 waistcoat, in exact and striking imitation of the 
 portly draper, while he questioned him affably 
 about trade. 
 
 " It is rather a good business, is it not } " he 
 observed blandly. " Drapery is not in my line, 
 but one never knows what may happen." 
 
 "You are right there, young sir ; and it is as good
 
 256 AMONG THE PHILISTINES. 
 
 a business as a man need have, if he has a proper 
 knowledge of textures." Brother Daniel said this 
 with a twinkle in his eye. He was a heavy, loosely 
 built man, but he was acute enough not to be 
 bamboozled by a slip of a lad, who was poking 
 fun at him. " And what do they m.ean to make 
 of you, my boy? I suppose Reuben will be putting 
 you into the book trade." 
 
 " I was thinking of being a commercial traveller 
 myself," returned Harvey, mildly. "They have 
 rather a jolly life of it, and know how to make 
 themselves comfortable. Of course, one would 
 prefer being Archbishop of Canterbury, and if I 
 had only stayed at Repton, there is no knowing 
 what I might have done." 
 
 But here there was a sudden truce to Harvey's 
 nonsense, as Polly interrupted him by a querulous 
 complaint that they were all as dull as ditch-water, 
 and wouldn't his sister come out of her corner and 
 play them a tune 1 
 
 " We will get Hector to ask her," she continued, 
 as Harvey hesitated ; and Gloden was presently 
 accosted by the young man. 
 
 " The ladies hope that you will give us a tune 
 on the fiddle," stammered Mr. Bradley, a little 
 awkwardly. " We shall be truly obliged, miss, as 
 things are just a little flat, and there is nothing 
 so rousing as a good tune."
 
 AMONG THE PHILISTINES. 2$^ 
 
 " I am very sorry, but I am afraid I cannot play 
 to-night," returned Gloden, stiffly. There were 
 limits to everything. How was she to stand up 
 before all those vulgar, noisy people, and play to 
 them ? The thing was impossible. 
 
 " Oh, come, now ! I hope you won't be so dis- 
 obliging," went on the fascinating Hector, with 
 an affable smile ; " we are all in the family, so to 
 speak." But Polly, who had been listening, broke 
 in a little petulantly — 
 
 "You need not be so persuasive, Hector. If 
 Miss Carrick does not wish to amuse us, let us 
 play post ; we shall get far more fun out of that. 
 I have got a pencil and paper in my pocket, so 
 I will put myself down as Petersham ; and what 
 will you be, Lavvy ? " 
 
 Gloden did not stop to hear any more ; she 
 would take refuge in her own room until supper- 
 time. No one would miss her, and Aunt Clemency 
 was below, looking after Patty and the goose. 
 She gained the door unperceived, opened it, and 
 came face to face with Reginald Lorimer. Her 
 surprise was so great and so undisguised that Mr. 
 Lorimer could not refrain from a smile. 
 
 " You look as though you were interviewing a 
 ghost," he said, shaking hands with her. "Your 
 looks are wonderfully eloquent, Miss Carrick ; I 
 
 VOL. II. 36
 
 258 AMONG THE PHILISTINES. 
 
 will allow that my presence is unexpected, but 
 I trust I am not unwelcome." 
 
 " We are pleased to see you, of course " — in a 
 flurried tone, " but there is nowhere to ask you 
 to sit down. They are playing games in there, 
 and the supper is laid in the parlour." 
 
 '' Come down to the shop a moment ; the noise 
 those lively young people are making won't let 
 us hear our own voices. I want to tell you why 
 I am here." And, to her own astonishment, Gloden 
 meekly allowed herself to be conducted downstairs. 
 
 The shop was still lighted up, though the outer 
 door was closed. Mr. Lorimer gravely handed her 
 a chair, and leaned easily against the counter. 
 
 ''I like this old shop," he remarked, glancing 
 round him approvingly ; " it is so quaint and old- 
 fashioned, and all those books have such a friendly 
 look. I should not mind being in the bookselling 
 trade myself; it is perfectly respectable." 
 
 " Mr. Lorimer, please tell me why you are here." 
 
 " Called to order," murmured Reginald. " You 
 are a terribly practical person, Miss Carrick. The 
 fact is, some papers that my lawyers require have 
 been left by mistake at the Hall, and there was 
 nothing for it but to fetch them myself; so I have 
 come down for one night. I go up to town again 
 to-morrow by the 11.30 train."
 
 AMONG THE PHILISTINES. 259 
 
 " And you called here on your way to Silcote ? " 
 
 " Precisely so. It came into my head suddenly 
 that I would look you and Harvey up, and 
 ask him to breakfast with me. I suppose Mrs. 
 Norton will have something for us to eat, though 
 I am not sure ; he must take that on faith. I had 
 no idea that you had a party, and my spirits sank 
 at the sight of the supper-table. Mrs. Carrick was 
 good enough to ask me to stay," he continued, 
 looking at her as though to judge the effect of 
 his words. 
 
 She flushed up at once. " Mr. Lorimer, please 
 do not. You have no idea how dreadful it is. 
 You have heard the noise, and I am afraid it will 
 get worse and worse. Harvey is enjoying it, 
 because he is only a child, and sees the fun of 
 everything, and just for once he does not mind ; 
 but I came away because I could not bear it. I 
 have never been accustomed to such things ; " and 
 there were tears in her eyes. 
 
 Reginald looked away quickly ; her emotion 
 made him feel uncomfortable. He did not like to 
 tell her how sorry he was for her. 
 
 "Yes, I know ; it must be an awful bore." But 
 his tone said more than his words. 
 
 **They are Aunt Clemency's relations, but of 
 course they are nothing to us," went on Gloden.
 
 26o AMONG THE PHILISTINES. 
 
 " And they are so ill-bred and familiar. Harvey 
 is making fun of them all, and I am so afraid they 
 will find it out before the evening is over. If you 
 only saw them, you would understand. Aunt 
 Clemency is a hundred times better than they are." 
 
 "I have a great respect for Mrs. Carrick," he 
 replied quietly, and Gloden felt somehow as 
 though she were reproved. "It is hard lines for 
 you, and Harvey too ; for I expect the young 
 monkey sees things as clearly as you do. Won't 
 it make it better for you if I stop ? " and his 
 voice grew persuasive. " It won't hurt me, and 
 no one will be the wiser ; and I should rather like 
 it myself." 
 
 "I would not have you stay for the world," 
 returned Gloden, vehemently ; " it would make 
 things worse for me." 
 
 But what other argument she would have used 
 was never known, for at that moment Polly of the 
 frizzy hair flew down the staircase shouting loudly, 
 with Harvey after her, the game having degene- 
 rated into a romp. 
 
 "Give it up; it is not fair! You have cheated, 
 Polly ! " exclaimed Harvey. But his bolsterousness 
 died away at the sight of the squire ; the lad's face 
 grew crimson as he met his friend's eye. 
 
 "What's the game, Harvey?" asked Reginald^
 
 AMONG THE PHILISTINES. 26 1 
 
 with a droll look. " I thought the house was 
 coming about our ears." 
 
 And Harvey, who looked rather ashamed of 
 himself, became slightly cross. *' Gloden would 
 not play the fiddle to them, so we had games ; 
 and they said they liked noisy ones ; " for Polly, 
 giggling and abashed at the sight of a strange 
 young man, had fled to her sister. 
 
 " Suppose you play your fiddle now," observed 
 Mr. Lorimer, looking kindly at the girl; "you will 
 have one appreciative auditor, and it will keep the 
 barbarians quiet." 
 
 "Do you mean that you are coming too?" 
 asked Harvey, incredulously; and his brief sulkiness 
 vanished, " I would not have believed even you 
 could be such a brick. Isn't he a brick. Glow ? " 
 
 " Oh, you must not expect your sister to endorse 
 such a flattering statement," returned Mr. Lorimer, 
 with a laugh. " But we understand each other, 
 don't we, old fellow?" — pulling his ear in an 
 affectionate manner. " Miss Carrick, I have made 
 up my mind. I am going to see you through 
 this, and no amount of argument will stop me. 
 Now, will you take my advice about the fiddle ? '* 
 And as he evidently meant what he said, Gloden 
 wisely held her tongue. 
 
 There was an astonished silence as the trio
 
 262 AMONG THE PHILISTINES. 
 
 entered, and Mr. Lorimer said quietly, " Your 
 niece is going to play to us, Mr. Carrick." And 
 Gloden in silence took out her violin from its 
 case. 
 
 Why was it possible for her to play now ? But 
 Gloden was too prudent to ask herself that question. 
 But as she played, Polly's giggles and Hector 
 Bradley's loud whispers died away. 
 
 When Gloden raised her eyes, they rested on 
 Reginald's rapt face, as he and Harvey sat together 
 in the window-seat. Aunt Clemency, re-entering. 
 the room, seated herself behind her husband and 
 listened with moist eyes and a happy heart. 
 
 " Music hath charms to soothe the savage breast," 
 wrote the poet ; and even an honest draper might 
 feel his soul uplifted by those sweet, searching 
 strains. Daniel, looking across at Clemency's 
 placid features, thought of the old days when he 
 and the little lass went blackberrying together ia 
 the deep, fragrant lanes. 
 
 *' I can call to mind how she looked then," he 
 thought, "in her pink sun-bonnet, and her lip 
 black with the juice." "I must pick my posy for 
 mother, Dan," he could hear her say that ; and the 
 way she looked at him, with the curls tumbling 
 out of the sun-bonnet, and her eyes dancing with 
 eagerness. " A bit thing," as their father always
 
 AMONG THE PHILISTINES. 263 
 
 called her, when she nestled up to him on Sunday- 
 evening. 
 
 " Well, I never ! " ejaculated Mrs. Moore, in 
 awestruck tones, when Gloden had finished. " I 
 am thinking, Clemency, that your niece must be 
 fit for the stage. I have heard fiddle-playing in 
 my time. Bob Rogers used to play at our place 
 when he was courting Penelope, but this beats 
 Lob." 
 
 " Come and have a bit of supper, Eliza," was 
 Clemency's answer. " The squire has promised 
 to take a knife and fork with us ; " and Clemency's 
 voice was full of modest pride as she spoke. 
 
 " Law, now, you don't say so ! " ejaculated Eliza ; 
 but her voice hardly expressed pleasure. The 
 presence of the distinguished stranger was a 
 decided incubus to the good woman ; and, in spite 
 of Mr. Lorimer's affability and his excellent appe- 
 tite, there was a certain restraint on the general 
 hilarity. 
 
 Hector indeed whispered soft nothings in 
 Lavinia's ear, but Polly had become very prim 
 and silent. Harvey was too busy enjoying his 
 own supper to pay her any attention, and all his 
 remarks were addressed to Reginald. 
 
 As for Gloden, she was thankful to sit silent. 
 She felt Mr. Lorimer's presence was a sufficient
 
 264 AMONG THE PHILISTINES. 
 
 protection. She did not want him to talk to her, 
 and he had the tact to leave her alone. 
 
 "I knew I should make things easier for you," 
 he said, when he took his leave. " I should have 
 despised myself if I had left you unprotected in 
 that bear-garden. We kept the cubs in order, 
 didn't we, Harvey ? " 
 
 " You have been very, very kind, and I am not 
 ungrateful," returned Gloden. " I know that you 
 only stayed on my account." 
 
 **You are very clever to have found that out," 
 he returned lightly ; but her look haunted him all 
 the way home. " The life is killing her by inches," 
 he said to himself "She cannot stand it much 
 longer. Her pride suffers, and her feelings suffer, 
 and, upon my soul, I don't believe I can stand 
 seeing her there much longer either." But at this 
 point Reginald checked himself suddenly, and 
 began whistling " Young Lochinvar " at the top of 
 his voice, until Lassie heard him and commenced 
 barking excitedly, and then all the other dogs 
 about the place began barking too. 
 
 "'^'v^^*
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 "BOYS WILL BE BOYS." 
 
 "There is one thing of which I am afraid, and that is fear."- 
 Mackenzie. 
 
 HEN Gloden woke the next morning-, she 
 was conscious of some pleasurable sensa- 
 tions which were at first difficult to trace to any 
 special cause, and it was some time before she 
 acknowledged to herself that she had been much 
 gratified and touched by Mr. Lorimer's kindness 
 •of the previous night. 
 
 " It was good of him to stay when he must have 
 hated it so," she said to herself ; " but of course 
 he knew that his presence would be a restraint. 
 How few young men would have acted so un- 
 selfishly ! " 
 
 But it was doubtful if Reginald would have
 
 266 ''BOYS WILL BE BOYSy 
 
 endorsed this. A mild taste of Bohemianism was 
 a novelty to the young squire ; the genus Moore 
 was unknown to him. As he ate his supper he 
 was smiling to himself at the idea. How shocked 
 Constance would have been if she had guessed 
 how he was disporting himself ! 
 
 But the next minute Gloden's thoughts veered, 
 round to Harvey. "Poor boy, how disappointed 
 he will be ! " she thought ; for the snow was falling 
 fast, and the driving particles quite darkened the 
 room. " Uncle Reuben was right ; he said there 
 would be a heavy fall to-day, though Harvey 
 laughed at him ; and now it will be impossible for 
 him to go to Silcote. I wish Mr. Lorimer had 
 not asked him ; he will be so restless all day." 
 
 Gloden's sympathy was thrown away, for at 
 the very moment that she was cogitating so rue- 
 fully over the boy's disappointment, Harvey was 
 making his way as fast as he could down the 
 Silcote road. Harvey, in spite of an adoring 
 sister and aunt, was no more perfect than other 
 boys of his age. He was self-willed and head- 
 strong, and was capable at times of a vast amount 
 of naughtiness. He knew, when he looked out of 
 his window, that Gloden would not hear of his 
 going to the Hall. 
 
 "But she always forgets that I am not a girl,.
 
 ''BOYS WILL BE BOYSy 26 f 
 
 to mind weather. Mr. Lorimer says boys ought 
 to be tough. Why, he called me a molly-coddle 
 one day when it rained, and I was afraid of getting 
 wet. He shan't call me a molly-coddle to-day." 
 
 So Harvey dressed himself with guilty haste, 
 and, taking his boots in his hand, crept down in 
 what Clemency would have called "his stocking 
 feet." Patty stared at him when she saw him 
 lacing his boots, and with the collar of his coat 
 drawn up to his ears. 
 
 "You are never going out. Master Harvey," she 
 protested. " Why, the milkman says there is a 
 rare snowstorm brewing. He looked pretty nearly 
 frozen. You couldn't find your way out of the 
 town, I'll be bound." 
 
 '* Hold your tongue, Patty," returned Harvey,, 
 good-humouredly. " Griff and I know what we 
 are about ; don't we, old boy.'* We aren't made of 
 sugar and salt. We are going to have a lark this 
 morning." And while Patty was still shaking her 
 head, he slipped out of the shop door. 
 
 "Poor little chap, how disappointed he will be !"^ 
 thought Reginald, as he sat down to his solitary^ 
 breakfast. Tottie was not beaming at him from 
 the opposite side of the table as usual, "making 
 daddie's bexfast," as she termed it. She was in, 
 the nursery at Hyde Park Gates, tyrannizing ia
 
 :26S ''BOYS WILL BE BOYS?' 
 
 her babyish fashion over Rex and Ninian, and 
 *being petted and spoiled by her aunt Constance. 
 
 Reginald was not in the best of humours. The 
 snowstorm was an awful nuisance. He wanted 
 to get back to town. Hamerton expected him to 
 -dinner, and he had half promised to drop in to 
 -afternoon tea with the Greshams, with whom 
 Violet Winter was staying. He was seeing a good 
 <leal of Violet just now, and the Greshams were of 
 opinion that he was only waiting for the first anni- 
 versary of his wife's death to pass before he first 
 .proposed to Violet ; and Constance and Miss 
 Wentworth were of the same opinion. 
 
 " They will be engaged before Easter, you may 
 depend on that, Amy," Miss Wentworth said more 
 than once. And this belief made Mrs. Winter 
 "very happy. 
 
 Reginald hated the idea of being boxed up in 
 his big lonely house, with nothing especial to do 
 except to turn over his papers and knock about 
 the balls in the billiard-room ; but it would be 
 madness to attempt the journey. Constance would 
 not expect him. The documents could be sent on 
 to his lawyer when the snow fell less heavily. The 
 groom must make his way somehow to Grantham 
 ^nd send a couple of telegrams, and he must kill 
 iime as best he could ; and he proceeded to do
 
 ''BOYS WILL BE BOYS.' 26g> 
 
 this by sauntering through the rooms with his. 
 hands in his pockets and Lassie at his heels^ 
 thinking rather irritably about the events of last 
 night. 
 
 When Gloden found Harvey was not in his 
 room, she questioned Patty a Httle anxiously, and 
 her distress was so great when she found out that 
 he was really gone, that Clemency found it difficult 
 to soothe her. 
 
 Gloden had gone in search of her aunt at once. 
 
 "Oh, Aunt Clemency!" she exclaimed, almost 
 in despair, " Harvey has set out for Silcote ; but. 
 he will never get there. No one could find their 
 way in such a snowstorm ; the postman said he 
 could hardly see a yard before him." 
 
 Clemency looked aghast when she heard this ;. 
 then she put her hand kindly on her niece's- 
 shoulder. 
 
 " He is a very naughty boy," she said seriously ; 
 " but you must not lose heart like this, my dear. 
 Harvey is a shrewd lad, and has a head on his 
 shoulders ; he will not be losing his way, I'll be- 
 bound." 
 
 "But he will be wet through, and he is so 
 delicate," returned Gloden ; the poor girl's lips 
 were trembling as she spoke. " He has more spirit 
 than strength, Aunt Clemency ; and if he should
 
 .270 ''BOYS WILL BE BOYSr 
 
 take cold — and the doctor always told us to be so 
 •careful." 
 
 " Nay, nay, dearie ; the weakly ones often fare 
 best, and he has gained flesh wonderfully since he 
 has been with us. It is downright naughty and 
 perverse of him to have 'given us the slip like this, 
 but I doubt we are spoiling him amongst us ; " and 
 Clemency shook her head seriously as she pondered 
 •over the lad's delinquency. 
 
 " Couldn't Uncle Reuben send some one to see 
 if he is safe ? " implored Gloden. And Clemency 
 carried this request to her husband. 
 
 "Your uncle declares he has no one to send," 
 she said reluctantly, when she came back to the 
 parlour, " and he will have it we are troubling 
 ourselves unnecessarily. He thinks Harvey is far 
 too sharp to miss his way ; besides, the snow was 
 not so thick an hour ago. He says he is eating his 
 breakfast, for sure, at this moment, and that we 
 had better get ours." 
 
 But Gloden was not to be consoled in this easy 
 fashion. 
 
 " I would go myself if I thought I could possibly 
 find my way," she said disconsolately ; but Reuben 
 ■only scolded her in his good-natured manner for 
 making such a poor breakfast. 
 
 "You and Clem are fashing yourselves for
 
 ''BOYS WILL BE BOYSr 2/1 
 
 nought," he went on ; " the young rascal is making 
 a hearty meal at this moment, and laughing at 
 us all in his sleeves. He deserves a thrashing, that 
 he does, though he is not likely to get it. ' Spare 
 the rod and spoil the child,' eh, Clem ? " 
 
 " You never laid a finger on Davie," returned 
 Clemency, tenderly. " Do you mind that day of 
 the hard frost, Reuben, when Davie gave us the 
 slip, most as Harvey has done, and went off to 
 skate on the big pond? You said then that he 
 deserved a caning, but he had two helps of apple- 
 tart at supper, all the same, in spite of all that I 
 could say." 
 
 Then Reuben gave one of his low laughs of 
 amusement. Gloden listened to them vaguely. 
 Those endless reminiscences of the boy David that 
 were so sweet to the bereaved parents, could not 
 divert her thoughts from the young truant ; a 
 strange heaviness and presentiment of evil affected 
 her nerves. The noiselessness of the falling snow, 
 the semi-darkness and the dreary look-out on the 
 back yard, gave her a feeling of suffocation. She 
 thought of the wide ditches on the Silcote road, 
 and the white desolation of the park. How was 
 any lad, however sharp, to keep to the footpath 
 that led to the avenue? At this very moment 
 he might be wandering round and round the
 
 2/2 ''BOYS WILL BE BOYS^ 
 
 Hall, unable to find the right turning. And at 
 this point her eyes looked so wide and strained, 
 that Clemency asked her husband rather hurriedly 
 if it were not time for him to be in the shop. 
 But Reuben, manlike, refused to take the hint. 
 
 " There is no hurry, wife," he said, unfolding his 
 papers ; "customers will be scarce this morning." 
 
 Then Gloden in desperation rose from the table. 
 The best room overlooked the street ; it would be 
 better to endure the cold there than the sight 
 of those black walls. 
 
 Clemency followed her, and knelt down to kindle 
 the fire that Patty had just laid. The room was 
 still in disorder from last night's festivity, but 
 Gloden took no notice of the fact ; she made her 
 way to the window-seat, where Mr. Lorimer had 
 sat the previous evening, and tried to pierce 
 through the white density. 
 
 " It grows worse," she murmured ; " I cannot 
 see across the street." 
 
 Then Clemency, giving another finishing touch 
 to the fire, rose and joined her. 
 
 "You are troubling over-much, my dear," she 
 said kindly ; " we must not forget Providence is 
 watching over the little lad. There is not a sparrow 
 falls unseen ; we must mind that, Gloden. A half- 
 hearted faith is worth nothing."
 
 "BOYS WILL BE BOYS." 273 
 
 " I know that, Aunt Clemency" — with a sigh of 
 impatience ; " and yet accidents happen every 
 day. People are drowned and run over, In spite 
 of their faith. I often puzzle over that." 
 
 Clemency was silent. The only answer that 
 occurred to her would have been cruel at such a 
 moment ; that they had met the doom fore- 
 ordained for them, would hardly be a comfort- 
 ing reflection to Gloden at the present time. 
 " We cannot rightly understand things," she said 
 at last, softly ; " there is a terrible mystery in life. 
 One man is called to lie down in his bed and 
 suffer, and another is taken by some sudden 
 judgment. There are paths that wind and paths 
 that are just short cuts, but they all lead to the 
 same end. One need not mind drowning if it is 
 God's way of fetching us home." 
 
 "Aunt Clemency" — in a troubled voice — "you 
 may be right, but I cannot bear it. If harm 
 should happen to Harvey, I could not think it for 
 the best ; it would seem to me terrible — terrible. 
 Think if he were to be lost ! He may be wandering 
 about in Silcote Park now. Oh " — quickly rising 
 from her place in uncontrollable agitation — " I 
 must go after him ! What does it matter what 
 happens to me ? I cannot endure this any longer." 
 
 Then Mrs. Carrick put her arms firmly round the 
 
 VOL. II. 37
 
 274 ''BOYS WILL BE BOYS.'' 
 
 girl. "Nay, nay, my dear, you are excited. Do' 
 you suppose your Uncle Reuben and I would suffer 
 you to run into danger ? and what good will it do 
 Harvey? The storm was not near so thick two 
 hours ago, though it means mischief now. Take 
 heart, child ; your uncle is probably right, and 
 Harvey, bless him ! is just eating his breakfast,, 
 and laughing at us all." 
 
 And Gloden, after a long struggle, tried to take 
 this reasonable view of the case. 
 
 Clemency was relieved when she saw her 
 straightening the room and dusting the china as 
 usual. She even offered to wash up the glass, and 
 put away the old-fashioned silver that Clemency 
 only used on state occasions — those thin, worn 
 old teaspoons that had belonged to her grand- 
 mother were treasures not to be lightly used — and 
 Clemency was only thankful to see her occupied. 
 
 It was some hours before the storm lessened,, 
 and it was nearly three o'clock before Reginald 
 could send off his groom with the telegrams and 
 a note for Gloden. The poor girl's anxiety by this- 
 time had taken the form of a racking sick head- 
 ache, and Clemency had just tucked her up care- 
 fully on the big couch with some warm rugs and 
 shawls, and a hot bottle to her feet, when Patty 
 brought up the note.
 
 ''BOYS WILL BE BOYSr 2/5 
 
 Gloden tore it open. " Oh, he is all right, Aunt 
 Clemency!" she exclaimed with a sob, sinking back 
 on the couch ; and Mrs. Carrick read the note for 
 herself. 
 
 " Dear Miss Carrick " (it began), 
 
 " I feel sure you will be anxious about Harvey. The 
 young rascal tells me that he gave you the slip this morning, so I 
 am sending off Evans to assure you of his safety. You may imagine 
 my astonishment at seeing him. I am afraid my welcome took the 
 form of a lecture on his idiocy ; but, as you have often said to me, 
 * boys will be boys.' He did not turn up until long after breakfast- 
 time, and as he had had a good soaking, we had his things dried, 
 and wrapped him up by the fire. He looks rather like a mummy at 
 present. I shall keep him with me to-night, as I think he has had 
 enough fatigue ; but I will bring him over on my way to the train 
 to-morrow morning. 
 
 " Trusting that you have not been very uneasy, and with kind 
 regards to Mrs. Carrick, 
 
 "Yours sincerely, 
 
 "Reginald Lorimer." 
 
 " There, my dear, what did I tell you t " observed 
 Clemency, tearfully ; and in the fulness of her 
 joy she kissed the girl's cheek. " Providence has 
 been good to us, and we might have spared 
 ourselves all our worrying." 
 
 " I am not unthankful, Aunt Clemency," returned 
 Gloden, gently ; " but if you knew what I suf- 
 fered ! " 
 
 Then Clemency smoothed her hair. **I know 
 all about it, dearie, and my heart was just aching
 
 276 ''BOYS WILL BE BOYS." 
 
 for you ; but you must try and get a sleep now, 
 and I will bring you up some hot tea presently." 
 And Gloden promised faintly to do her best. 
 
 "She will just sleep like a worn-out baby," she 
 said to Reuben, when she acquainted him with 
 the contents of Mr. Lorimer's note. " It went to 
 my heart to see the pitiful look in her eyes all the 
 morning. But there, I should have felt the same 
 if it had been Davie. It seems strange to me at 
 times to think we shall never know anxiety about 
 Davie again. Those who mother lads have a deal 
 to go through in this world." 
 
 "You are mothering Gloden to-day, aren't 
 you, Clem .? " observed her husband, slyly. 
 
 And Clemency's quiet smile lighted up her face. 
 It was true that the barrier had broken down a 
 little between her and Gloden. 
 
 Reginald had made the best of things in his 
 letter. He did not tell Gloden that Harvey had 
 never reached the hall until nearly one o'clock, 
 after five hours of wandering. He and Griff were 
 utterly exhausted when at last they found their 
 way to the back door. 
 
 Reginald broke into an angry remonstrance 
 when he first saw him. " Why, you young idiot, 
 what folly is this ? " he began ; and then his wrath 
 died away at the boy's miserable condition. Harvey
 
 ''BOYS WILL BE BOYS." 277 
 
 was sobbing with cold and exhaustion ; and Griff 
 looked a draggled and disreputable object as he 
 dragged himself to his young master, and with 
 a dog's unselfish devotion began licking his hand. 
 
 Reginald rang up his housekeeper furiously, and 
 begged to know what was to be done with the 
 young lunatic ; and then he put his arm round 
 Harvey and petted him, and told him not to be 
 a duffer, and he would soon feel all right again. 
 
 "You had better give him some hot wine and 
 water, sir," advised Mrs. Norton ; " and then a hot 
 bath, and put him to bed, while we get his things 
 dried." 
 
 But Harvey, becoming restive with warmth and 
 petting, refused to go to bed, so Reginald wrapped 
 him up in his wadded dressing-gown ; and as soon 
 as Harvey had appeased his appetite, and had 
 related his forlorn tale, he was so far recovered 
 that he challenged his host to a game of chess. 
 
 " I suppose you will let Glow know if you 
 keep me all night," he remarked, as he languidly 
 set the pieces. And then Mr. Lorimer wrote his 
 note. 
 
 **You deserve a jolly good licking for giving 
 your sister all this anxiety," observed Reginald, 
 sternly, as he returned to his seat. 
 
 And then Harvey grinned defiance. In reality
 
 278 ''BOYS WILL BE BOYS." 
 
 he was as penitent as heart could wish, but nothing 
 could long subdue Harvey. 
 
 " I don't believe I should be here now if it had 
 not been for Griff," he observed lazily, as he took 
 a pawn. " He stood still and whined when I was 
 turning off from the road. We had been beating 
 about the park for hours, and I was so tired out 
 that I thought I must give it up ; but when the old 
 fellow whined, I made up my mind that he should 
 be leader, and he brought me straight to the back 
 door. You should have seen Norton's face when 
 he looked out and saw us/' 
 
 Harvey became weary of chess presently, and 
 entreated for a game of billiards. 
 
 " I will go on wearing the dressing-gown if my 
 things are not dry yet," he went on. 
 
 And Reginald agreed with his usual easy good- 
 nature. 
 
 Griff followed them stiffly. The fire in the 
 billiard-room had been recently lighted, and the 
 room was only half warmed. Griff infinitely pre- 
 ferred the soft rug in Mr. Lorimer's dressing-room, 
 and he coiled himself up on the divan with a low 
 whine of disgust. 
 
 " You must not get cold, Harvey," observed 
 Reginald. " There is not much of a fire." 
 
 But Harvey was too much engrossed with his
 
 BOYS WILL BE BOYSr 
 
 279 
 
 Stroke to heed this. " That was a jolly fluke," he 
 returned, as the ball rolled into the pocket. " You 
 need not give me thirty again. I shall be ahead of 
 you in no time if I fluke like that ; " and he broke 
 into a crowing laugh. It was a regular lark, he 
 thought, as he stumped round the table in the 
 gorgeous dressing-gown. A tete-d-tete dinner, and 
 *' beggar my neighbour " afterwards. Could any 
 boy ask more ?
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 "I LOVED HIM TOO MUCH." 
 
 '* Of comfort no man speak : 
 Let's talk of graves, of worms, and epitaphs." 
 
 Richard II. 
 
 HE following morning, as Gloden was about 
 to leave her room, there was a quick tap 
 at the door, and the next moment Patty entered 
 with a note. 
 
 " A man on horseback brought it, Miss Gloden," 
 she remarked. " He didn't wait for any answer ; 
 he said he had a message for the Red House." 
 
 "For Dr. Parry.?" and Gloden turned very pale 
 as she opened the note ; a quick prevision of evil 
 made her divine the contents. 
 
 "Dear Miss Carrick" (wrote Reginald), 
 
 ' ' I am sorry to tell you that Harvey is very unwell, 
 and I am sending for Dr. Parry." (" No good beating about the
 
 "7 LOVED HIM TOO MUCH?' 28 r 
 
 bush," thought Reginald, as he wrote this.) " He was all right 
 when I wrote to you yesterday, but in the evening he seemed very 
 cold and shivering, and I persuaded him to go to bed, and Mrs. 
 Norton gave him a warm drink. I looked in at him before I re- 
 tired myself, and he was sleeping fairly comfortably ; but when 
 Mrs. Norton went to him early this morning, he seemed so feverish 
 and complained of such pain and difficulty of breathing, that we 
 thought it only right to send off at once for Dr. Parry. As I know 
 you will be uneasy about him, I shall send the carriage for you at 
 nine o'clock. Harvey begged that you would come to him at 
 once. 
 
 "In great haste, 
 
 "Yours sincerely, 
 
 •' R. LORIMER." 
 
 Mrs. Carrick was making the coffee when Gloden 
 entered the room a few minutes later, in her hat 
 and jacket. 
 
 " What's to do, my dear .? " she asked anxiously^ 
 startled by the girl's set white face. 
 
 " He is ill — Harvey is ill ; read that for yourself. 
 Aunt Clemency," returned Gloden, hoarsely, throw- 
 ing down the note on the table. 
 
 And Clemency's fingers trembled a little as she 
 took it up. " If it is the truth, God help us all,"' 
 she thought ; and then, with her usual unselfish- 
 ness, she set herself to comfort Gloden. 
 
 " It is his chest, no doubt ; nice hot linseed 
 poultices, that's what he will be needing. Don't 
 you fash yourself, Gloden, my dear. I have per- 
 fect confidence in Dr. Parry ; if any one would 
 have saved my Davie, it would have been Parry.
 
 282 "/ LOVED HIM TOO MUCHr 
 
 Reuben " — as her husband came in from the shop — 
 " Gloden is in a bit of trouble. Mr. Lorimer has 
 written to say Harvey is but poorly ; he has got 
 a feverish cold, I doubt, and it has flown to the 
 chest. The carriage is coming for her in half an 
 hour, and I mean to get on my things and go 
 with her, if you and Patty can do without me for 
 ^n hour or two." 
 
 ''Dear me, dear me!" returned Reuben, tremu- 
 lously ; and he put on his spectacles to read the 
 note, and then took them off again to wipe them. 
 " Oh, we will get along all right, the lass and I. 
 Don't you moither yourself, Clem ; you will be a 
 deal of help to Gloden." 
 
 " Indeed, Uncle Reuben, I do not need Aunt 
 Clemency," began Gloden, her youthful selfishness 
 disliking the idea of any interference. 
 
 But Reuben shook his head solemnly. "Sit 
 down and eat your breakfast, like a good lassie," 
 he said in his kind way. "You will need your 
 strength if there's nursing to do. Your aunt has 
 iiad a deal of experience ; there is not a better 
 hand at nursing, though I say it, and you will be 
 .^lad enough of her help. It will be pleasant for you 
 to have a woman at hand, for, with all the good- 
 ■will in the world, young men are not the best of 
 .sick-nurses."
 
 "/ LOVED HIM TOO MUCH:' 283 
 
 Then Gloden held her peace ; the thought of 
 Mr. Lorlmer had not even occurred to her. 
 
 Clemency was quite aware of Gloden's reluc- 
 tance, but her good heart took no offence ; she even 
 made allowances as she went off to put on her 
 bonnet, and giYO. Patty her orders. " It is natural 
 that she should want to nurse him all herself," she 
 thought ; " I remember it went sorely against me 
 when Reuben would sit up with David ; I was 
 jealous even of my boy's father, so I have no call 
 to be hard on Gloden. It has not entered her 
 heart that Mr. Lorimer is as good as unmarried, 
 and a young man still, and that it might be 
 awkward for them both ; but I am bound to think 
 of these things for her, and I know that Reuben 
 wants me to go." 
 
 There was little talk "between the two during 
 the drive to Silcote. Now and then Clemency 
 made an observation, but Gloden only answered in 
 monosyllables. She was pondering gloomily over 
 what Dr. Tritton had said about Harvey's delicacy 
 of constitution, and never even noticed when one 
 of the horses slipped on some frozen snow, though 
 Clemency's heart went into her mouth, as she told 
 Reuben afterwards. 
 
 Dr. Parry's carriage was still at the door when 
 they reached the Hall ; he and Mr. Lorimer had
 
 284 "^ LOVED HIM TOO MUCH." 
 
 just left Harvey's room, and were coming down- 
 stairs. Reginald had a bothered look on his face, 
 but Dr. Parry uttered a cheery exclamation at the 
 sight of Mrs. Carrick. 
 
 " Come, our patient is in luck's way," he said ; 
 "there is not a nurse in Grantham to beat Mrs. 
 Carrick." 
 
 But before Clemency could answer, Gloden- 
 pressed forward. 
 
 " I intend to nurse my brother. Dr. Parry," she 
 said decidedly, hardly looking at Reginald, as he 
 shook hands with her. " I know Aunt Clemency 
 will kindly help me, but you must give your orders 
 to me as well." 
 
 " Settle that between yourselves, ladies," returned 
 the doctor, in an offhand manner; "but my 
 directions must be strictly followed." 
 
 And then Mr. Lorimer left them for a few 
 minutes. When he returned Dr. Parry had gone. 
 Gloden, who looked much distressed, came forward 
 to meet him. 
 
 " Which is Harvey's room, Mr. Lorimer } " she 
 asked ; " I must go up at once." 
 
 But he put his hand on her arm. " You shall 
 go in a moment, but I must speak to you first. 
 There is no hurry ; Mrs. Norton is with him. 
 Indeed" — as she looked at him impatiently — " you
 
 *•/ LOVED HIM TOO MUCHr 285 
 
 must give me a minute. If Harvey be ill, I shall 
 never forgive myself." 
 
 "But he is ill," she interrupted; "Dr. Parry 
 could not disguise the fact. It is pneumonia — that 
 is another word, is it not, for inflammation of the 
 lungs? — his temperature is very high." Then, as 
 she noticed his expression, " But it is not your 
 fault. How could you guess, when you gave the 
 invitation, that Harvey would be so mad as to go 
 through that snowstorm ? " 
 
 " No, I was not to blame there," returned 
 Reginald ; " but let me make a clean breast of it. 
 It was my fault that Harvey was all those hours 
 in the billiard-room. I was a fool to allow it. The 
 fire had not been long lighted, and Dr. Parry 
 thinks that a good deal of the mischief is due to 
 that ; so you may imagine my feelings." 
 
 "Oh, you did not know," she said hurriedly. 
 ^' Perhaps Dr. Parry was wrong in putting it down 
 to that ; he was wet through and worn out " — and 
 here her voice choked. " Do please take me to 
 him, Mr. Lorimer ; " and then Reginald led the 
 way upstairs. 
 
 " We put him in the south room, because it had 
 been recently used," he observed ; " and I am glad 
 now that we did so. Parry says it is the best 
 room we could have chosen."
 
 286 "/ LOVED HIM TOO MUCH:' 
 
 And then, on hearing voices, Mrs. Norton- 
 opened the door. She was a pleasant-looking^ 
 woman, and had been housekeeper at the hall as 
 long as Reginald could remember; she and her 
 husband were the oldest servants there. 
 
 " The young gentleman is very feverish, ma'am,, 
 so you will be pleased to be careful and not let 
 him talk," she said in a low voice ; and then she 
 caught sight of Mrs. Carrick, and nodded to her 
 in a friendly way. 
 
 The good housekeeper had often had a chat 
 with Clemency over the counter. But here the 
 sound of a hard, dry cough reached Gloden's ear, 
 and she pushed past her. 
 
 Harvey was at the further end of the room ; he 
 was propped up with pillows, and looked flushed 
 and feverish. As Gloden threw her arms round 
 him, he pushed her gently away. 
 
 " Don't, Glow. I don't deserve it ; it serves me 
 right. It was real mean of me to play you that 
 trick." But here the painful cough checked his 
 penitent confession. 
 
 " My darling, hush ! Dr. Parry says you must 
 not talk." 
 
 " It is a regular cropper," panted Harvey. " Of 
 course I have got a bad cold, only I wish it did 
 not hurt so ; " and he put his hand to his breast.
 
 "/ LOVED HIM TOO MUCH." 287 
 
 " There ! " — his face twitching with the pain — " it 
 almost took my breath away. Why, there's Aunt 
 Clem" — with a ghost of a smile. ''Aunt Clem, 
 I know I was very naughty." 
 
 " There's a brave lad ; but you will be good now,. 
 Harvey, and mind what your sister says. There 
 is to be no talking, the doctor says." 
 
 "But you are going to stop," pleaded Harvey; 
 "you will let them stop, won't you, Mr. Lorimer? 
 I couldn't part with Glow ; and it is nice to have 
 Aunt Clem. You'll be fine and glad to stay, won't 
 you, Aunt Clem } " 
 
 "They will stay if you obey orders, and hold 
 your tongue," returned Reginald, trying to be stern.. 
 
 And then he turned to Gloden, and asked her 
 softly if there were anything he could do for her ; 
 but she shook her head without looking at him.. 
 She wanted nothing but to be left alone with 
 Harvey. But as he left the room, a sudden thought 
 struck her, and she went after him. He was 
 walking slowly down the corridor, but he turned 
 back when he heard her footsteps. "You have- 
 thought of something," he said eagerly. 
 
 "No ; there has been no time to think. I only 
 want to be certain that you meant what you said 
 just now to Harvey, that we may stay. Are you 
 sure that we shall not be a trouble ? But I could
 
 288 "/ LOVED HIM TOO MUCW 
 
 not leave him. If only he had not been taken ill 
 here, in this house ! " 
 
 " I am quite sure you do not mean to be unkind," 
 replied Reginald, gravely; "but you would not 
 like any one to make such a speech to you. Oh, 
 I forgive you" — as she looked disturbed at this. 
 "You are too much bothered to know what you 
 are saying ; but I am only too glad that the little 
 'chap should be here. If you care to please me, 
 you will just make yourself at home, and ask for 
 everything you want. My servants have literally 
 nothing to do, and it will be a charity to employ 
 them. Will you tell Mrs. Carrick this ? " 
 
 "You are very kind ;" and then she looked up 
 in his face rather pitifully. " He is very ill, Mr. 
 Lorimer ; I have never seen Harvey look quite so 
 .ill as that, and it is so sudden." 
 
 " Oh, these sort of things are always sudden." 
 But Reginald did not add that Dr. Parry had told 
 liim that he had just lost a patient with inflamma- 
 tion of the lungs in two days. " Parry is coming 
 -again this afternoon." 
 
 But Gloden made no answer to this ; she had 
 said all she wanted to say, so she went back to 
 the room. 
 
 Clemency had already divested herself of her 
 ^bonnet and cloak, and was sitting, knitting in hand,
 
 "/ LOVED HIM TOO MUCHr 289 
 
 beside the bed ; but she left her place as Glodeii 
 entered. 
 
 Harvey beckoned to her to come closer. " I 
 don't want Aunt Clem to hear," he whispered ; 
 " but I am glad to be ill here ; it is better than 
 David's room and the back yard, eh, Glow?" and 
 as Gloden looked round her, she endorsed Harvey's 
 opinion. 
 
 The south room was always appreciated by 
 Reginald's guests. In reality it was Constance's 
 old room, and the furniture had been left intact. 
 It had a large bay window overlooking the park. 
 Some of Constance's books had been left in the 
 bookcase, and her writing-table and easy-chair 
 still stood in the bay. A couch, covered with 
 blue cretonne, was drawn to one side of the fire- 
 place, and blue cretonne curtains shaded the small 
 brass bedstead. When Violet Winter had slept at 
 the Hall, she had begged for Constance's old room, 
 and since then it had been used by Ursula 
 Egerton. 
 
 " Isn't it a jolly room ? " continued Harvey ; and 
 then another of the cruel stitches made him finish 
 with a groan. 
 
 Before many hours were over Gloden was 
 thankful for her aunt's company, for that night 
 and the next day Harvey grew rapidly worse. 
 
 VOL. II. 38
 
 290 "/ LOVED HIM TOO MUCH:' 
 
 Clemency was a good nurse, as Dr. Parry had 
 once said, and had all the instincts of one. Her 
 touch was at once light and firm, and her eye and 
 nerve never failed her. As the temperature of the 
 patient grew higher, and the pulse became more 
 frequent and full, and the difficulty of breathings 
 grew more marked. Clemency did not lose her 
 courage or her quiet cheerfulness, and she never 
 failed to give the right word to Gloden when the 
 poor girl appealed to her in her trouble. 
 
 " Oh, Aunt Clem, I cannot bear it ! I will ask 
 Mr. Lorimer to send for Dr. Parry back ! " she 
 exclaimed once ; for the doctor had paid his 
 second visit. His directions had all been given 
 to Clemency, but Gloden had ceased to resent this. 
 All selfishness had been swallowed up in her 
 intense anxiety ; she was certain that Dr. Parry 
 had looked grave, though he had reserved his 
 opinion. 
 
 " There's no need to trouble Mr. Lorimer," 
 returned Clemency, quietly. "Dr. Parry will be 
 here before night." 
 
 Then Gloden uttered a low moan. There needed 
 nothing else to prove to her her darling's danger : 
 Harvey had become light-headed, and was ram- 
 bling to himself in an aimless way of the old 
 Repton days.
 
 "/ LOVED HIM TOO MUCW 29 1 
 
 " It was a beastly fluke of Jones minor," he 
 muttered. 
 
 " Aunt Clemency, he is worse — I am sure he is 
 worse. Look at his eyes ! he does not seem con- 
 scious of our presence." 
 
 "Ay, the fever is high, my dearie, but it is only 
 what we are bound to expect. You must keep up 
 your heart, Gloden ; there's not many girls of your 
 age that has such a notion of nursing, and the doctor 
 will soon find that out for himself, though, being 
 older and having had children of my own, and us 
 being such old friends, he gives me all the directions." 
 
 But Gloden was too full of misery to take heed 
 to this delicate compliment, and when the door 
 opened and Reuben Carrick stepped in on tiptoe, 
 with the air of a man well used to sickness, she 
 slipped past him and went out. She wanted to 
 get away from the sound of that hoarse voice, and 
 the dry, suffocating cough. 
 
 Reginald, prowling restlessly about the house, 
 came upon her crouched on one of the old- 
 fashioned window-seats in the corridor, looking out 
 drearily over the whiteness of the park. He 
 hurried up to her with a remonstrance. 
 
 "This is very wrong. Miss Carrick; you will take 
 cold in this draughty passage, after being in that 
 warm room so long."
 
 292 "/ LOVED HIM TOO MUCHP 
 
 " I wanted a breath of air," she returned, in the 
 strained high voice that betrayed jarring nerves ; 
 " the room seemed to suffocate me, and there was 
 nothing I could do. Aunt Clemency does every- 
 thing far better than I. When will Dr. Parry be 
 here, Mr. Lorimer ? " 
 
 " I am expecting him every minute ; he said 
 he would come as late as possible to-night, and it 
 is ten now." 
 
 " If he would only come ! It is so cruel to see my 
 darling suffer. He is worse — I know he is worse " 
 — and now she was cold, and shaking all over — 
 " and he is all I have in the world." 
 
 " I don't like to hear you talk in that way." 
 
 " In what other way can I talk when I know the 
 danger he is in ? " she returned, almost harshly. 
 
 And Reginald was silent out of sheer pity. How 
 was he to contradict her when Dr. Parry had refused 
 to hazard an opinion ? The boy was in a bad way ; 
 it was impossible to deny that. He was a delicate 
 little fellow, and those hours of exposure and 
 fatigue had been too much for him. And then his 
 cursed carelessness about the billiard-room ; the 
 room had been like a vault. Some one had told 
 him that it was a bad sign when delirium came on 
 in the early stages of inflammation of the lungs, 
 and he wondered what Dr. Parry would say to 
 
 1
 
 "/ LOVED HIM TOO MUCH:' 293 
 
 that. He would have given much to be able to 
 speak a cheering word to the girl. His heart was 
 full of pity for her, and anxiety for his favourite ; 
 he would almost have consented to have taken the 
 boy's place if he could have spared her this pain. 
 
 " It is all my fault," he sighed at last ; and Gloden 
 roused up at this. 
 
 " It is strange, but I don't feel as though I could 
 blame you," she returned, in a softer tone than she 
 had used before. " You meant kindly, and it was 
 only a mistake. It was the dear boy himself who 
 was to blame ; and it was my fault too, because I 
 had spoiled him, and that made him self-willed. 
 Mr. Lorimer, if he does not get over this illness — 
 and he will not ; I feel he will not," she added 
 hysterically — " it is because I loved him too much, 
 and God is punishing me for it." 
 
 " No, no ; you must not be so hard on yourself" 
 He had not a notion how to comfort her, but as 
 he spoke he put his hands over hers and held 
 them firmly. " You could not love him too 
 much," he said vehemently; "he is a dear little 
 chap, and I love him myself I never took 
 to a boy in my life before as I have taken to 
 Harvey." 
 
 " Yes ; and he was so fond of you," she mur- 
 mured. She made no effort to free herself from
 
 294 "^ LOVED HIM TOO MUCH." 
 
 the kind hands that held hers ; indeed, she was 
 hardly conscious of the pressure. 
 
 " And I would not lose heart if I were you," he 
 continued. " We will have down another opinion 
 if you like, but I have great faith in Parry ; I 
 would trust Tottie to him if she were ever so ill. 
 Now you will go back to Harvey, will you not, 
 and hope for the best ? " 
 
 "Yes, I will go back to him," she returned 
 meekly. 
 
 She could not have recalled a word of their 
 conversation, and yet she felt insensibly soothed 
 by Reginald's sympathy. As he released her 
 hands, he put his arm round her as though to 
 assist her to rise. 
 
 "When Parry comes I will send him up," was 
 all he said as he left her at the door ; but Gloden's 
 " Good night, and thank you " were spoken almost 
 gratefully.
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 clemency's reward. 
 
 ■*' Misfortune may make us proud, suffering makes us humble." 
 
 TJiotights of a Queen, 
 
 R. PARRY remained at the Hall all that 
 night. Mr. Lorimer proposed it ; he told 
 the doctor that it would be a relief to him person- 
 ally to have him at hand, and Dr. Parry consented 
 very willingly. 
 
 " If there is not some slight change for the 
 better before morning, I will not answer for the 
 consequences," he said very plainly to Reginald. 
 ■** I was just thinking that it would be as well if 
 I could be on the spot; it is one of those cases 
 that will be short and sharp. His temperature 
 must not go any higher." 
 
 Gloden felt a glimmer of hope when she heard
 
 296 CLEMENCY'S REWARD. 
 
 Dr. Parry would sleep there, but Reuben Carrick, 
 who was going back in the doctor's brougham,, 
 carried a heavy heart with him. 
 
 " I wish we did not set such store by the lad,"" 
 he said to Clemency, when she accompanied him 
 to the head of the stairs. " It will go hard with us 
 to part with him." 
 
 But Aunt Clemency, in her simple faith, would 
 not hear of this. " We will not weaken ourselves 
 by troubling about the future, Reuben. When 
 sorrow comes the strength comes with it. I must 
 just give my mind to following the doctor's orders. 
 * When the child was yet alive ;' I always think of 
 David's words." And then she bade Reuben put 
 up the collar of his coat, to keep him from the 
 cold, and went back to Harvey. 
 
 It was a trying night for every one ; even Regi- 
 nald found it impossible to sleep, and more than 
 once put on his dressing-gown to listen at the 
 door of the sick-room. But to Gloden it was a 
 night of anguish. Clemency, moving about the 
 room in her quiet way, would glance at the girl 
 pityingly from time to time. Gloden was always 
 ready to assist her, to see what was wanted, but 
 the moment she was free again she returned to 
 her place beside Harvey. Clemency could never 
 have guessed at the thoughts that were passing
 
 CLEMENCY'S REWARD. 2gy 
 
 through Gloden's mind. When she said to herself, 
 in her pious way, that the dear Lord was giving^ 
 the child one of His hardest lessons, she was very 
 near the truth. 
 
 During those weary hours, strange, self-accusing 
 thoughts mingled with her anxious ones for 
 Harvey. At one moment she could think of 
 nothing but of him ; the next, she was regarding 
 her past conduct to her uncle and aunt with 
 feelings of remorse and abhorrence. In that solemn 
 watch with Clemency, the truth without any 
 disguise seemed to start up before her and upbraid 
 her with her want of tenderness. 
 
 When she saw Clemency's pale face bending 
 over the boy — who was not Davie, not her own 
 flesh and blood — and remembered all her goodness 
 to them both, she hated herself for the jealous, 
 pride that would have separated her from the boy. 
 How she had wronged the gentle and kindly soul, 
 who had never given her a reproachful word I 
 How patient she had been with her ! 
 
 "Why did I never see it before? Why have I 
 taken all and given nothing ? " thought the girl. 
 " It is for this I deserve punishment, not because 
 of the love I gave my darling. It cannot be a 
 sin to love those who are given to us ; it is only 
 our want of love for which we shall be judged."
 
 :2gS CLEMENCY'S REWARD. 
 
 There are some natures whose latent nobiUty 
 is only roused by painful circumstance — who need 
 more than others the purification of suffering. An 
 atmosphere of unfailing sunshine would only 
 enervate them ; they require a more bracing disci- 
 pline. In tropical countries vegetation becomes 
 rank ; so in a life of ease Gloden's faults would 
 have increased. Her pride needed humbling, her 
 strong will had to learn how to bend to others ; 
 her self-love must be eradicated; she must see 
 herself in the mirror of perfect truth, before she 
 could experience that salutary shame that brings 
 redemption. 
 
 "Lie down a bit, Gloden," urged Clemency 
 once towards morning; "it is only a tough body 
 like me that can put up with watching and loss of 
 sleep. It makes me feel bad to see your white face, 
 my dear." 
 
 " Oh, Aunt Clemency, I cannot rest ! I do not 
 ■deserve to rest." 
 
 And as the thin little hand with its worn wedding- 
 ring rested on her shoulder, Gloden, with a sudden 
 impulse, touched it with her lips. 
 
 " You are so good, so forgiving ! " she murmured. 
 
 Clemency flushed up with surprise ; the caress 
 •was so utterly unexpected. Then her good heart 
 seemed to grasp the meaning, and the next moment
 
 CLEMENCY'S REWARD. 299 
 
 she put her arms round the girl and laid her head 
 on her shoulder, holding it there with her hand. 
 
 " There — there, you poor child," she said tenderly. 
 *' I would bear it all for you if I could ; but the 
 dear Lord knows best, and we can trust Him. 
 It is borne in upon me that this sickness is not for 
 death ; I have been thinking so all the night ; " 
 and as Gloden hid her face in her neck in a 
 sudden passion of tears, she rocked her gently to 
 and fro, as though she were a baby. 
 
 "It is only a mother's love that knows how to 
 look on at suffering," thought Clemency, when she 
 again stooped over Harvey. " It is the sword- 
 piercing that many a woman feels in a small 
 measure, though there was only one that could 
 have borne to stand beside a Son's cross. I 
 always had a more kindly feeling for St. John," 
 she went on, in her simple manner, " than for any 
 of the others, for the way he took her along with 
 him to his own home. If Reuben's father had 
 not been David, I should have called our little lad 
 John." 
 
 A few minutes later, Gloden, who had at last 
 consented to lie down on the couch for half an 
 hour, heard her call her softly. 
 
 " Gloden," she said quietly, " I think Harvey is 
 breathing a bit easier, and his skin is not so dry ;
 
 300 CLEMENCY'S REWARD, 
 
 he has not been rambling so much during the last 
 half-hour." 
 
 But Gloden, worn out with the long watch- 
 ing, was in no state to mark the improvement. 
 "You must not give me hope," she said, in a 
 faint, exhausted voice that made Clemency look 
 at her sharply. 
 
 "Gloden, my dear," she said, with unusual 
 decision, "you will just put yourself back on that 
 couch, and shut your eyes like a good child, or 
 I shall have more than one patient on my hands. 
 You may trust me to call you if there is any 
 change." 
 
 And Gloden, who felt herself unable to stand, 
 threw herself down, and fell into a heavy sleep. 
 
 "Young eyes are not used to watching," 
 thought Clemency, as she sat down by the bed. 
 She was tired, and her head throbbed with 
 weariness, but her heart was full of peaceful 
 happiness. Old prophetical words seemed to echo 
 in her ears : " Then shall thou say in thy heart, 
 Who hath begotten me these, seeing I have been 
 bereaved of my children, and am solitary .'' " And 
 again, " For more are the children of the desolate 
 than the children of the married wife, saith the 
 Lord." 
 
 "Ay, it is true," she said to herself, as she
 
 CLEMENCY'S REWARD. 3OI 
 
 glanced at the sleeping girl ; " there is a power of 
 truth in those words. The Lord be thanked for 
 His goodness. We have children in heaven, and 
 children on earth ; for Harvey will live, please God, 
 to be a son to Reuben ; and now Gloden has 
 opened her heart to me, I feel as though I have 
 nought left to pray for." 
 
 When morning came, Dr. Parry endorsed Mrs. 
 Carrick's favourable opinion of the patient. 
 
 " He has taken a turn for the better," he said to 
 Mr. Lorimer, as they sat down to breakfast 
 together. ** I begin to hope that we shall pull 
 him through after all, though last night I would 
 not have said as much ; but we must not halloa 
 until we are through the wood." And then he 
 began eulogizing Harvey's nurse. "Mrs. Carrick 
 is a trump," he said enthusiastically. " I wish 
 I could get her for our matron at the hospital. 
 If I were at death's door, I would rather have 
 that woman to nurse me than any of our trained 
 nurses. She has a genius for it ; she has a cool 
 head, never gets flurried, and never forgets an 
 order." 
 
 " Miss Carrick seems to me a good nurse too," 
 observed Reginald, who had been much struck by 
 Gloden's devotion the last two days. 
 
 " Humph — yes ; she has a head on her shoulders ;
 
 302 CLEMENCY'S REWARD. 
 
 but she has not Mrs. Carrick's staying powers. 
 But she has done very well on the whole, poor 
 thing; she seems wrapped up in the lad. Nice 
 boy — very." 
 
 " Oh, Harvey is more than that — he is a fine 
 fellow ; and if you pull him through, doctor, we 
 shall all be your debtors for life ; " and Reginald's 
 voice was slightly husky. He was surprised himself 
 to find how much he cared for the boy. " I think 
 I had better adopt him," he said to himself, with 
 an attempt at a smile. 
 
 When Dr. Parry had left, he sent up a message, 
 begging that one of the nurses would speak to 
 him, and, as he hoped, Gloden came down to him. 
 She looked very pale in spite of her long sleep, 
 and Reginald pushed a chair near the fire, and 
 told her to sit down and rest a moment. 
 
 '' Oh, I cannot stay," she said hurriedly ; " Aunt 
 Clemency is going to lie down for a couple of 
 hours, while I take care of Harvey." And then 
 she looked up at Reginald, as he was leaning 
 against the mantelpiece watching her. " Do you 
 know that Dr. Parry thinks that Harvey is a little 
 better ? — * less bad,' were his words, and he says 
 that the improvement is owing to Aunt Clemency's 
 nursing." 
 
 "Yes ; he said as much to me."
 
 CLEMENCY'S REWARD. 305 
 
 ** Oh, she is so good, so kind ! " — in a choked voice, 
 '' If my dear boy recovers, I shall never be able 
 to do enough for her. I have not been good to her,. 
 Mr. Lorimer." 
 
 "Oh, I would not be troubling my head about 
 that now," remarked Reginald, in his easy-going 
 philosophy. " You have got to take care of your- 
 self, and look after Harvey — that is your whole duty 
 of woman at present; you may make as much as 
 you like of Mrs. Carrick when you have got her 
 home again." 
 
 " You always say kind things," returned Gloden, 
 with a faint smile ; " but you don't know how I 
 have treated Aunt Clemency. ' I thought myself 
 better than she, and I cannot hold a candle to her. 
 Harvey has not been ill more than three days,, 
 but I feel as though I have been living through 
 a lifetime of repentance." 
 
 " Anxiety and fatigue have made you morbid," 
 observed Reginald, treating this confession in an 
 offhand way. "That is just how I went on about 
 Car," he thought — " I made myself out an utter 
 brute ; but I think differently of things now." And 
 then he smiled pleasantly as she looked at him 
 with wide, anxious eyes. "It is an awful mistake, 
 thinking about one's self at such times ; there's 
 no good to be got out of it at all. Take my
 
 304 CLEMENCY'S REWARD, 
 
 advice, Miss Carrick, chuck all those morbid 
 thoughts overboard, and start afresh ; it will be 
 much better for everybody." 
 
 " Yes, you are right," she said, so humbly that 
 Reginald felt quite uncomfortable. "You make 
 •allowances for every one, Mr. Lorimer, even for 
 me, though you know how proud and disagreeable 
 I have been to every one." 
 
 But here he checked her. " I am not going to 
 let you talk in that way," he said, with brusque 
 kindness. *' Disagreeable ! Why, you are the 
 pluckiest girl I know ; the most patient of saints 
 would have turned rusty in your place. Come, 
 now, if you call yourself names, I shall just tell 
 you plainly how much I respect and admire you." 
 
 But here Gloden stopped him. "Please don't 
 talk so, Mr. Lorimer "—blushing a little. "But, 
 of course, it is my fault for troubling you with 
 my stupid thoughts ; but somehow you always 
 seem to do me good. I think you have a 
 healthy way of looking at things. Now I must 
 really go back to my post." And he reluctantly 
 let her go. 
 
 " Do her good," he remarked to himself, as he 
 sat down in the seat she had just vacated, and 
 took Lassie's head between his knees. "I felt 
 an awful duffer talking to her just now. I wish
 
 CLEMENCY'S REWARD. 305 
 
 I had Hamerton's knack of putting things ; she 
 will find me uncommonly stupid when she comes 
 to know me better. I know Car did — poor dear 
 Car ! " and here he sighed. He always sighed in 
 this oppressed manner when he thought of his 
 wife. His eyes were gradually opening to the 
 fact that his marriage had not brought him all 
 he had expected. ** If Car had lived, I know we 
 should not have hit it off exactly," he had said to 
 himself once. " I was always sure to kick over 
 the traces, and Car couldn't bear running out of 
 her groove." And there was a good deal of truth 
 in this. " I never noticed before what wonderful 
 eyes she has got," he went on ; " they seem to 
 darken and change their colour with every word 
 she speaks. I dare say she has not treated Mrs. 
 Carrick very well, but she has a hard life of it, poor 
 girl ! " And here Reginald fell into a brown study, 
 as he twirled his moustache and stared at the fire. 
 
 There was still cause for great anxiety about 
 Harvey. When Dr. Parry came the next day, he 
 looked a little grave and spoke vaguely of the 
 danger of a relapse. " If he gets through, it will 
 be by the skin of his teeth," he muttered, as he 
 put on his great-coat in the hall. Later in the 
 day he told Mr. Lorimer that Mrs. Carrick was not 
 to be allowed to sit up. 
 
 VOL. II. 39
 
 306 CLEMENCY'S REWARD. 
 
 " I can't have my best nurse knock herself up," 
 he continued, "and she has been up for three 
 nights ; so Mrs. Norton and Miss Carrick must 
 do it between them. I had Carrick round at the 
 Red House last evening, begging me to see that 
 his wife had her proper rest. ' She will just go on 
 until she drops, doctor,' he said. ' She will never 
 give in — that's her way ; ' so I have kept my 
 promise by ordering her off to bed." 
 
 " Mrs. Norton is a capital nurse; there is no need 
 for Miss Carrick to sit up," returned Mr. Lorimer. 
 
 " So I told her, but she chooses to be obstinate 
 about it ; that young lady has a will of her own, 
 and no mistake. Well, we shall have her breaking 
 down one of these days." And Dr. Parry, who 
 had daughters of his own, went off grumbling. 
 
 " Suppose I have a try," thought Reginald, as he 
 closed the door upon the doctor ; and then he 
 went upstairs and begged Gloden in a low voice 
 to come outside for a moment. 
 
 She followed him reluctantly. "Do you want 
 me particularly, Mr. Lorimer? Aunt Clemency 
 is going to bed, and I am very busy." 
 
 " You are not too busy to give me five minutes, 
 I hope. Mrs. Norton will look after Harvey all 
 right ; " and he coolly drew her to the window-seat, 
 and placed himself beside her. «
 
 CLEMENCY'S REWARD. 307 
 
 " Miss Carrick, I want you to do me a great 
 favour ; " then, as she looked at him apprehensively, 
 *' I want you to go to bed, and allow me to share 
 Mrs. Norton's watch to-night." 
 
 " You ! " — very much surprised at this request 
 *'■ I don't think Dr. Parry would approve of a fresh 
 nurse for Harvey." 
 
 " You are wrong ; he is quite willing for me to 
 do it, though he said at the same time that Mrs. 
 Norton would do quite well alone. But I know 
 you would be happier if I keep an eye on him." 
 
 " But I could not leave Harvey," she replied, 
 quickly ; for the determined look on Reginald's 
 face alarmed her. " I know Mrs. Norton is a care- 
 ful woman, but while he is so ill I could not keep 
 out of the room, and you must not ask me to 
 ■do so." 
 
 " But if I do ask it " — very persuasively — " don't 
 you think you could trust Harvey to me ? " 
 
 " Yes, of course ; and I know how good you 
 would be to him. But indeed — indeed I could not 
 leave him to-night. If anything were to happen ! 
 Dr. Parry does not seem quite satisfied about him, 
 and if he should have a relapse." 
 
 " You are conjuring up fears ; Harvey is not any 
 worse to-night. Miss Carrick, I am in earnest. I 
 cannot let you lose your rest in this way. There is
 
 308 CLEMENCY'S REWARD. 
 
 no one to look after you, and you will not take 
 care of yourself ; you will be utterly worn out." 
 
 "What will that matter?" she returned reck- 
 lessly, amazed by this pertinacity on Mr. Lori- 
 mer's part. " I cannot and I will not leave Harvey 
 to-night." 
 
 Then there was a hurt look on the young man's 
 face. " Very well, then, there is nothing more to 
 be said ;" and Reginald stood up and prepared to 
 leave her. " I may as well wish you good night." 
 
 " Why do you speak as though you were 
 offended with me?" she asked, troubled by his 
 manner. Since the first time they had met, he 
 had never spoken to her coldly or indifferently 
 before. 
 
 " I have no right to be offended," he returned 
 stiffly ; " but I must confess that I am hurt. I had 
 hoped that you would have trusted me ; but no 
 matter. I see I expected too much." 
 
 Gloden turned to him quickly. " You have no 
 right to make it such a personal matter. It is no- 
 want of trust on my part. How can I help trusting 
 you when you have been so good to my darling ? "^ 
 Then her voice trembled, and her eyes were full of 
 tears. " You shall not say that again ; I cannot bear 
 it ; it seems to make everything so much worse. 
 You shall stay with him if you like."
 
 CLEMENCY'S REWARD. 309 
 
 " Do you really mean it ? " and Reginald's face 
 grew radiant ; " and you will try to sleep ? " 
 
 " I don't know about that ; but I will at least 
 absent myself until morning." 
 
 Then there was a look of triumph in Reginald's 
 eyes ; after all, he had prevailed with her. He 
 felt as happy as a king as he went off to Harvey's 
 room. She had not shunted him after all ; his 
 will had been stronger. But Gloden, tired and 
 unnerved as she was, wept long and bitterly in her 
 little room. 
 
 " Why was I so weak ? " she said to herself again 
 and again. " Dr. Parry and Aunt Clemency both 
 tried to persuade me, but I was firm with them ; but 
 when he looked so dreadfully, hurt, I could not 
 bear to pain him." But though Gloden chafed and 
 fretted over her ready submission, and would have 
 given worlds to have taken back her word, she 
 kept her compact with Mr. Lorimer religiously, 
 and he had the satisfaction of seeing her the next 
 morning looking all the better for her enforced 
 rest ; but when he told her so, Gloden blushed 
 and made no response.
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 REGINALD KNOWS HIS OWN MIND. 
 
 ** The pleasure of love is in loving. We are happier in the' 
 passion we feel than in what we inspire." — Rochefoucauld. 
 
 ROM that night Gloden was conscious of a 
 subtle change in Mr. Lorimer's manner. It 
 
 was as though her acquiescence in his request had 
 given her a new claim on him. The unaffected 
 cordiality that had always been so winning had 
 deepened into something quieter and stronger ; 
 each day she was conscious of an added gentle- 
 ness and deference ; when he looked at her, there 
 was a new meaning in his eyes. 
 
 Neither was the change solely on Reginald's 
 side. Even while Gloden had wept hot tears of 
 indignation over her own inexplicable weakness,. 
 she was conscious of some secret unacknowledged
 
 REGINALD KNOWS HIS OWN MIND. 3II 
 
 pleasure in the thought that Mr. Lorimer was 
 watching over her young brother. 
 
 The next morning, when she entered the sick- 
 room and saw him leaning back in the chair she 
 always used, with his fair hair rumpled, and his 
 eyes heavy with want of sleep, her heart felt 
 suddenly drawn to him, and her hand trembled 
 with some unwonted feeling as he took it in his. 
 
 *' You are better," he said in a low eager voice, 
 that brought the colour to her face. " I can see 
 for myself that you are more rested ; " and as she 
 turned away without answering, he followed her 
 closely. 
 
 " Harvey is better too. Mrs. Norton is sure 
 of it." 
 
 " Do you think so t Oh, my darling, are you 
 really and truly better ? " and Gloden sank down 
 on her knees beside the bed and laid her cheek 
 against Harvey's hand. 
 
 Reginald looked at her for one moment — at the 
 coils of brown hair and the white shapely throat, 
 and then at the soft cheek resting against the 
 little rough, boyish hand ; a sudden strange glow 
 came into his eyes, and he turned abruptly 
 away. At that moment he knew the truth — that 
 he loved Gloden Carrick as he had never loved 
 before, and that henceforth life would have no
 
 312 REGINALD KNOWS HIS OWN MIND. 
 
 meaning to him unless she would consent to be 
 his wife. 
 
 The thought was overwhelming, and he felt a 
 little dizzy as he walked from the room. He dare 
 not trust himself in her presence, lest she should 
 read his secret in his eyes. 
 
 " It is too soon," he said to himself, as later on 
 he sat down in his chair before the library fire, 
 with Lassie stretched on the rug at his feet. '/ It 
 is very soon ; " and as he spoke half aloud he 
 raised his eyes to his wife's picture. In the soft 
 firelight, her fair face seemed to look down on him 
 with a smile. At the same instant some words 
 came back to his memory, and the weak tones of 
 her voice as she said them. He had been sitting 
 by her bedside one evening, not speaking much, 
 but stroking her hot hand with that pitying 
 tenderness that one would use to a sick child, 
 when she had suddenly clasped his hand a little 
 feverishly. 
 
 " Reginald," she had said in a faint inward voice, 
 " I want to say one thing to you. When the right 
 time comes you will marry again ; I should not 
 wish it otherwise;" and again, "Dying people 
 ought not to be selfish, and I have always taken 
 such care of you and Tottie." 
 
 " Car always meant what she said," he thought,
 
 REGINALD KNOWS HIS OWN MIND. 313 
 
 and again the dull throb made itself felt as he 
 recalled his old married life. "She always liked 
 to see me happy ; but it is far too soon. I will 
 not speak to her until February is over, and 
 
 then " His eyes brightened, but he did not 
 
 finish his sentence. He rose from his chair, and 
 walked to and fro, pushing away the furniture that 
 was in his way ; then, as though the library were 
 too narrow for his restlessness, he went into the 
 great empty music-room, while Lassie, faithful as 
 ever, followed him step by step with shivering and 
 reluctant devotion. The ways of men were won- 
 derful to Lassie, casting furtive glances of longing 
 to the warm bearskin she had left. 
 
 He was craving to see Gloden again, but he 
 would not seek her. More than once he stole up 
 to Harvey's room, but he dare not trust himself 
 to enter ; he felt that she would read his thoughts. 
 He would stand and listen to the sound of her light 
 footstep, and then go back again to his solitude. 
 
 But the longing to see her increased towards 
 ■evening, and he found it hard to keep his resolu- 
 tion. Perhaps she would come down to him to 
 wish him good night, or to give him a report of the 
 
 day. He would wait a little, and then But 
 
 at that moment the light sprang to his eyes — he 
 had heard her speaking to Lassie in the hall ; she
 
 314 REGINALD KNOWS HIS OWN MIND. 
 
 was on her way to him, and Reginald got up from 
 his seat and walked to the fireplace. 
 
 Gloden hesitated for a moment on the threshold \ 
 she was sensible of an unaccountable timidity. Mr. 
 Lorimer did not come forward to meet her as 
 usual. "Aunt Clemency wished me to come and 
 tell you that Harvey is so much better to-night," 
 she said a little hurriedly; "he is quite himself, 
 and has spoken to me." 
 
 "And you have come down to share your good 
 news with me ; that is very kind, Miss Carrlck." 
 He had offered her a chair, but she had motioned it 
 away, and now he had gone back to the rug, with 
 his arm resting on the mantelpiece. Gloden 
 thought he was shielding his face from the blaze ; 
 she had no idea how keenly she was watched. 
 " It was very good of you to come to me. I was 
 getting dreadfully tired of my solitude." Reginald 
 tried to speak in his usual easy fashion, but some- 
 thing in his voice made Gloden look at him. 
 
 " I am sorry you are dull," she said gently. " I 
 am afraid you miss Tottie, and it is all our fault 
 keeping you here. These rooms " — looking round 
 her — "must seem very large and empty some^ 
 times." 
 
 " I am not dull in the way you mean," he 
 returned quickly. " I have had pleasant thoughts
 
 REGINALD KNOWS HIS OWN MIND. 315 
 
 to keep me company. Tottie is not much of a 
 companion to me yet ; our conversation is limited. 
 You may make your mind easy about me, Miss 
 Carrick ; I am staying here for my own pleasure." 
 
 "I wish I could be sure of that"— rather wist- 
 fully. " Dr. Parry says it will be a long time 
 before Harvey gets strong, it has been such a 
 severe attack ; you will not get rid of us yet, Mr. 
 Lorimer." 
 
 "I never want to get rid of you again," rushed 
 to Reginald's lips, but he restrained himself. " You 
 know by this time that I am glad to have you and 
 Harvey," he said quietly. " Please do not get it 
 into your head that you are any trouble to me, 
 I know what a scrupulous person you are." 
 
 ** It is impossible to thank you properly," she 
 returned seriously. " I have never even thanked 
 you for all you did last night. I have not given 
 you Aunt Clemency's message yet, Mr. Lorimer. 
 She hopes that you will not sit up late, as Mrs. 
 Norton tells us that you never closed your eyes at 
 all last night." 
 
 " Mrs. Norton has no right to tell tales, and I 
 never felt better in my life. I think nursing must 
 be my vocation. Now tell me, what arrangements 
 have you made for to-night } " 
 
 "Oh, I am going to take the first part of the
 
 3l6 REGINALD KNOWS HIS OWN MIND. 
 
 night, and then Aunt Clemency will relieve me. 
 She will come to me at one o'clock." 
 
 " Honour bright ? " 
 
 " Oh yes, of course." 
 
 " I don't know whether you are to be trusted. 
 You want a lot of looking after, Miss Carrick, 
 and I begin to think it is my business to look 
 after you." 
 
 He checked himself, as Gloden put out her 
 hand a little timidly and wished him good night. 
 He did not venture to detain her, but as he 
 walked beside her down the hall, he told himself 
 again that he could not trust himself to be much 
 with her. At the foot of the staircase he bade 
 her good night again ; but on the landing she 
 turned round and saw he was still watching her. 
 As she waved her hand he smiled back at her, 
 and then walked slowly away. 
 
 Gloden's heart beat a little quickly as she re- 
 entered the sick-room ; in her whole life she had 
 never seen a smile like that. Ewen Logan, 
 though he loved her with the whole strength of 
 his nature, had always looked at her with some 
 solemnity in his eyes ; but the peculiar tenderness 
 of Reginald's smile was a revelation. It was the 
 smile with which a man looks on his nearest and 
 <iearest.
 
 REGINALD KNOWS HIS OWN MIND. 317 
 
 " I must never go and wish him good night 
 again," she said to herself, with quick sensitive 
 alarm. '' Of course he understood that Aunt 
 Clemency sent me ; but, though he was very kind^ 
 he did not seem quite Hke himself." 
 
 But Gloden never guessed how strong had been 
 Reginald's impulse to call her back as she moved 
 slowly away from him up the broad staircase, and 
 to take her in his arms and pray her never to leave 
 him again. 
 
 After all there was no relapse. Harvey's pro- 
 gress, though slow, was satisfactory, and Reuben 
 Carrick's face grew brighter after every visit. 
 
 " He will do now, Clem," he would say as he 
 stood looking down on the boy. " Of course he 
 is pulled down, poor lad ; but we will make a 
 man of him yet, please God ; " and Clemency's 
 low-toned "Ay, Reuben" always came like an 
 echo. 
 
 " It is the first time we have been parted," he 
 said somewhat ruefully one evening, " and the 
 days and nights seem to double themselves. I 
 feel lost without you, wife, and that's the truth. 
 But there, I am a selfish old fellow to be thinking 
 of my own lass, while you are mothering Nat's 
 children." 
 
 Then Clemency looked at him with her tranquil
 
 3l8 REGINALD KNOWS HIS OWN MIND. 
 
 smile. " Reuben, my lad," she said, using the phrase 
 that had often come to her lips in the old courting 
 day, when she was a trim, bright-eyed lass, and 
 Reuben was her sweetheart — " Reuben, my lad, it 
 has been in my mind to tell you something that 
 will give you pleasure. Nat's girl is my girl 
 now." 
 
 " Now, what might you be meaning by that, 
 Clem } " observed Reuben, in a puzzled drawl ; 
 but Clemency laughed joyously at his bewilder- 
 ment. How was he to know without telling 
 that her loving motherly heart was no longer 
 a-hungered ? 
 
 " Gloden and me, we understand each other," 
 she said in her gentle way, that gave a charm 
 even to her homely language. " Her heart, poor 
 lassie, is no longer closed to me ; Harvey's illness 
 has broken down the hardness in her. Ay, but 
 God's ways are wonderful and past finding out. 
 Who would have thought of you and me having 
 a daughter to cheer us in our old age } " 
 
 " I am fine and glad that the girl has come 
 round." But though Reuben said no more, that 
 slow brightening of his eyes was eloquent to 
 Clemency. 
 
 " Clem is rarely happy," he said to himself, as 
 he trudged patiently along the snowy roads ; for
 
 REGINALD KNOWS HIS OWN MIND. 319 
 
 Griff, as usual, had declined to accompany him, 
 but spent his days and nights on the rug in 
 Harvey's room, only retiring under the bed when 
 the doctor made his appearance. ** Well, she has 
 had a heap of patience with her — I could see that 
 for myself — and now she is reaping her reward. 
 I always knew there was grit in the girl, though, 
 like all young lassies, she had her whimsies and 
 fads ; but I am finely glad that things have come 
 right between her and Clem." 
 
 Reuben always walked over to Silcote every 
 evening when the shop was closed. No weather, 
 however rough, would have kept him from wishing 
 Clemency good night, for the sturdy, quiet man 
 had the heart of a lover for the homely little wife 
 who was the sunshine of his life. 
 
 Clemency's eyes used to shine as she saw him 
 creeping noiselessly into Harvey's room night 
 after night ; she would put down her knitting 
 and slip her hand into his, as they stood together 
 by the bed. 
 
 Reuben never stayed long, and they were 
 never alone except for those few minutes when 
 she followed him outside into the dim landing to 
 bid him good night. Now and then she would 
 beg him to be easy in his mind and stay at home. 
 " Harvey is doing nicely now," she would say,
 
 320 REGINALD KNOWS HIS OWN MIND. 
 
 " and there is no cause for you to be braving the 
 weather Hke this, and you no longer a young man, 
 Reuben ; " but his answer was always the same. 
 
 " Ay, the lad is doing finely, thank God ; but it 
 is yourself I come to see. It would be against 
 nature not to set eyes on my wife's face once in 
 twenty-four hours. So good night to you, lass ; " 
 and Reuben would shake hands with her gravely, 
 his huge hand nearly swallowing up her little 
 palm. He knew well that Clem would be too shy 
 to offer one of her wifely kisses out of her own 
 house, though he missed them keenly. 
 
 Clemency would watch him until he was out of 
 sight, and then go back to her work with the love- 
 light still in her eyes — that strantTe, mysterious 
 radiance, God-given and divine in its origin, and 
 which is as lovely in aged eyes as in the eyes of 
 youth. 
 
 Reginald's quick ardent love was only a flicker- 
 ing torch as yet, compared to the steady lamp 
 lighted in Clemency's quiet eyes. It takes a life- 
 time of proving and bearing before the full meltow 
 glow can be reached, that light that comes from 
 God, and burns to all eternity. 
 
 To the student of human nature, there is a 
 solemn beauty in the love-idyl is of the world. 
 The aged couple tottering downhill together, with
 
 REGINALD KNOWS HIS OWN MIND. 32 1 
 
 their old hands still clasped, and leaning on each 
 other in their feebleness, touches us as nearly as 
 the young lover and his lass. The old widow 
 who has followed her young husband to the grave 
 a lifetime ago, and is still faithful to his memory, 
 lays herself down contentedly to die, knowing 
 that in eternal youth she shall clasp him again. 
 " I shall go to him." Is not that the longing cry 
 of every bereaved heart, be it old or young t 
 " To him, to her ; " those dear ones within the veil. 
 
 When the long strain of anxiety was over, and 
 Harvey was slowly but surely recovering strength 
 day by day, and was beginning to tyrannize over 
 his nurses, Gloden felt happier than she had done 
 since she lost her father. The secret springs of 
 her youth overflowed as they had in the days of 
 old ; and Clemency smiled to herself when she 
 saw the brightness of the girl's eyes, and noticed 
 how often she sang, out of pure joyousness, as she 
 sat over her work. 
 
 In spite of Gloden's many faults, there was 
 nothing small or mean in her character. Half 
 measures were abhorrent to her. From the hour 
 of her reconciliation with Clemency there had 
 been no return of her proud reserve. Harvey, 
 lying hollow-eyed on his pillows, his face shrunken 
 to half its size, felt a faint surprise as he heard 
 
 VOL. II. 40
 
 322 REGINALD KNOWS HIS OWN MIND. 
 
 her altered tones. " She is the same jolly old 
 Glow as ever," muttered the lad, as he closed his 
 eyes out of sheer weakness. 
 
 One night when she was about to leave him, 
 and Clemency had gone out of the room for a 
 moment, he put out his hand to detain her. 
 
 " What is it, darling ? " she asked, sitting down 
 beside him. And then she looked sadly at the 
 little hand that had clutched hers. Alas ! it was no 
 longer rough and brown ; its blue-veined white- 
 ness for once put hers to shame. She kissed it 
 with sudden passionate tenderness. " Oh, Harvey, 
 do — do get well soon ! " she exclaimed. 
 
 " Dr. Parry says I am getting on like a house 
 on fire. What an old goose you are. Glow ! " but 
 Harvey's voice was a trifle unsteady. " Look 
 here" — putting his arm round her neck as she 
 stooped over him — " I want to ask you some- 
 thing. What made you kiss Aunt Clem just 
 now .? " 
 
 Then a deep blush came to Gloden's cheek. 
 
 " Are you getting fond of her ? " persisted 
 Harvey, trying to see her face. 
 
 To his delight, a whispered " Yes " reached his 
 ear. 
 
 " Really and truly, Gloden ? " 
 
 "Yes, dear, really and truly. Oh, Harvey" —
 
 REGINALD KNOWS HIS OWN MIND. 323 
 
 remorsefully — " I wish I had been more like you. 
 You took to her from the first." 
 
 "Well, I don't know about that," returned 
 Harvey, with a restless movement under the bed- 
 clothes that made Griff, who was curled up on his 
 feet as usual, supremely uncomfortable. " She 
 was rather frumpy at first, don't you know. When 
 she came through that glass door I thought she 
 was the cook — cooks have pleasant faces some- 
 times — but when she tucked me up that night I 
 found out she was a good sort, and so I stuck to 
 her." 
 
 " Yes, my darling ; you were always so sweet and 
 loving to her, so no wonder she is so fond of you. 
 But, Harvey dear, I am so grateful to her. Dr. 
 Parry says you would never have pulled through 
 without her care and nursing, so I feel she has 
 given you back to me." 
 
 " I would not talk to him any more if I were 
 you, Gloden," observed Aunt Clemency, as she 
 came in at that moment. " Harvey gets a little 
 feverish when people talk to him at night." 
 
 *' I am not a bit hot, and we are having a 
 jolly talk," grumbled Harvey ; but Gloden rose at 
 once and kissed him. 
 
 ''You are quite right, Aunt Clemency, and I 
 ought to have remembered," she said gently.
 
 324 REGINALD KNOWS HIS OWN MIND. 
 
 " You must go to sleep now, Harvey ; our talk will 
 keep till to-morrow." 
 
 Clemency and Gloden slept by turns on a little 
 bed in Harvey's room, and as Clemency moved 
 about the room, putting things straight for the 
 night, she saw Harvey was lying with his eyes 
 wide open, watching her. 
 
 " Is there anything you v/ant, my dear ? " she 
 asked, a little anxiously. 
 
 " No, Aunt Clem ; I am quite comfy, as Tottie 
 says. I was only thinking how jolly it is that 
 Glow and you are such good friends." 
 
 " Ah, that it is, Harvey ; " and Clemency paused 
 to give emphasis to her words. " ' He maketh men 
 to be of one mind in a house ' — that is what I am 
 always saying to myself" 
 
 " Is that a text, Aunt Clem t It sounds like 
 one. What a lot of texts you do know ! Well, 
 you and I have always been friends, haven't we ? 
 But I wanted Glow to find out for herself how 
 good you are, and all that, because when Glow 
 once likes a person she never changes." Then 
 he lay and looked at her a moment. "Are you 
 going to like her as much as you do me. Aunt 
 Clem?" 
 
 " I am going to love her as though she were 
 my own girl," returned Clemency, quietly ; but
 
 REGINALD KNOWS HIS OWN MIND. 325 
 
 Harvey was clever enough to read this answer 
 truly. 
 
 " Oh, you may like me best," he returned in a 
 sleepy tone, "because we have been friends for 
 so long, and I remind you of your boy. Glow 
 never minds if people like me best" 
 
 As soon as Harvey had had strength enough 
 to know his own wishes, he had begged for Mr. 
 Lorimer's company. It was quite an understood 
 thing that Reginald should come and see him 
 once or twice a day ; and as he grew stronger 
 these visits were lengthened, until Reginald spent 
 every afternoon in Harvey's room. 
 
 To Gloden as well as to Harvey these hours 
 were the pleasanter part of the day ; those quiet 
 firelight talks, while Harvey played with Lassie, 
 and Aunt Clemency sat by and knitted or dozed 
 in her snug corner, were almost as delightful to 
 her as they were to Reginald. Harvey, who was 
 still languid and indisposed to much exertion, was 
 quite content to see his friend, and showed no 
 impatience if he and Gloden talked about books 
 or music. Reginald was always lending her books 
 now, and by his orders the room was kept gay 
 with hothouse flowers. 
 
 " Harvey and I are getting quite spoiled," she 
 said one day, when Clemency had gone down to
 
 326 REGINALD KNOWS HIS OWN MIND. 
 
 Speak to Mrs. Norton, and Reginald had brought 
 up a portfolio of rare engravings to amuse her. 
 She spoke with unusual 'seriousness, and there 
 was a momentary sadness in her clear grey eyes. 
 " How do you suppose Market Street will look to 
 us after this ? " 
 
 " I hate to think of you in Market Street," was 
 Reginald's impetuous reply. " When I see you 
 there you remind me of a disguised princess ; 
 
 the place is not fit for you " But here the 
 
 deep flush on Gloden's face checked him. 
 
 " I do not like it myself," she said in a low voice, 
 " and Harvey does not like it either ; but I have 
 made up my mind that I will try to be as con- 
 tented as I can. Uncle Reuben and Aunt 
 Clemency are so good ; they make me ashamed of 
 all my pride." 
 
 " Oh, you are not proud now, not a bit," re- 
 turned Reginald, in a cheery voice. " I used to be 
 terribly afraid of you. I thought you never meant 
 to have anything to do with me." 
 
 " I am afraid I was very disagreeable." 
 
 But Reginald only shook his head and smiled, 
 and then he took another engraving out of the 
 portfolio. He must not allow himself to touch on 
 personalities. When he was near her he was so 
 keenly alive to his own feelings that he was
 
 REGINALD KNOWS HIS OWN MIND. 327 
 
 obliged to keep himself well in hand. These 
 visits to Harvey's room, these fireside talks, were 
 perilously sweet, and each day he found it harder 
 to restrain himself. " If it were not so soon ; if I 
 might only speak to her now ! " was Reginald's 
 inward cry ; but he was strong enough to keep 
 firm to his resolution. " In six weeks, perhaps 
 less," he said to himself, " I will go down to Market 
 Street and ask her to be my wife." 
 
 END OF VOL. II. 
 
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