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QUITS; 
 
 A NOVEL. 
 
 BY 
 
 THE BARONESS TAUTPHCEUS, 
 
 AUTHOR OF "the INITIALS." 
 
 IN THREE VOLUMES. 
 
 Vol. I. 
 
 LONDON: 
 EICHAED BENTLEY, NEW BTJELINGTON STREET. 
 
 1857. 
 
LONDON: PRINTED BY W. CLOWES AND SONS. STAMFORD STREET. 
 

 , CONTENTS TO VOL. I. 
 
 > 
 
 , CHAPTER I. 
 
 ;,' PAGE 
 
 >• In the midst of Life we are in Death . 1 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 A Short Pedigree 10 
 
 CHAPTER IIL 
 ■ Down the Rhine and up the Thames . . 26 
 
 ■ CHAPTER IV. 
 
 Leonora Nixon lands, — and forthwith finds 
 
 ^^ A GrUARDIAN 33 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 The Willows 52 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 An Enemy procures Leonora an English Home. 65 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 A City Uncle 83 
 
IV CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 How Leoxora's Name came to be shortened . 105 
 
 CHAPTEE IX. 
 A Practical Lesson on the Force of Habit . 120 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 Arrival of, an Addition ? or, an Acquisition ? 132 
 
 CHAPTER XL 
 Battledore and Shuttlecock . . .151 
 
 CHAPTER XIL 
 
 To Marry, — or not to Marry, — that is the 
 Question 176 
 
 CHAPTER XIIL 
 All Serene 199 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 Seven years later 210 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 Return to Germany after Ten Years' Absence 225 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 First Mountain Excursion attempted by the 
 Nixon Family 253 
 
QUITS! 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 IX THE MIDST OF LIFE V.'E ARE IX DEATH. 
 
 The bell of the steamer tolled. A hissing sound 
 of escaping vapour, and the gradual cessation of 
 even the slight motion of a Ehine boat, informed 
 the passengers that they had reached their destina- 
 tion for the night, and induced those who had 
 taken refuge in the cabins from the heat of a July 
 afternoon to commence a tumultuous rush on deck. 
 Stretched on one of the sofas in what is called the 
 pavilion, and perfectly unmoved by the bustle around 
 him, lay a young Englishman, apparently in a pre- 
 carious state of health, and in such very deep 
 mourning that some inquisitive tourists took the 
 trouble to make inquiries about him, and, w^ithout 
 much difficulty, discovered that he was a nobleman 
 returning home to take possession of his estates on 
 the death of his father. Yet great as had been the 
 attention lavished on him during the day by 
 
 VOL. I. B 
 
2 IX THE MIDST OF LIFE 
 
 most of the English travellers who had become 
 acquainted with his name and rank, they now all 
 hurried past him without word or look, so wholly 
 intent were they on securing their luggage, and ob- 
 taining apartments at the usually crowded hotels. 
 Two persons who had entered the steam-boat but a 
 couple of hours previously, stopped, however, at 
 the door, looked back and spoke to each other, 
 but in tones so low, that no sound reached the 
 invalid's ear, though, from the direction of their eyes, 
 he had little doubt that he was himself the subject of 
 discussion. Father and daughter they seemed to 
 be, and had attracted his attention directly on their 
 entrance, from the evident desire of both to remain 
 unobserved. The gentleman had the remains of 
 considerable beauty of face and person, disfigured 
 by an unusual degree of corpulence, which, how- 
 ever, he seemed in no way disposed to lessen, for 
 during his short sojourn in the steam-boat he had 
 left the pavilion no less than three times to 
 strengthen and refresh himself with soup, beefsteak, 
 and coffee, each time inviting his daughter to join 
 him, and receiving for answer a quick shake of the 
 head, followed, after he had left her, by a still closer 
 drawing into the corner of the sofa, from which 
 she never moved, and a pressing nearer to the 
 adjacent window, while she raised towards it, to 
 catch the waning light, a volume of Tauchnitz's 
 edition of ' British Authors.' Perhaps this last 
 circumstance, as much as the mysterious whisper- 
 ing of the travellers, had excited his lordship's 
 
WE ARE IN DEATH. J 
 
 curiosity, for he concluded that if she were not 
 English, she at least understood the language, and 
 perfectly too, as her quick reading and expressive 
 changes of countenance proved beyond a doubt. 
 Certain it is that his eyes had seldom wandered 
 from the face of the young girl from the moment 
 of her entrance ; and a charming youthful face it 
 was, with its small undefined nose, lustrous black 
 eyes, well-formed mouth, and high intellectual 
 forehead partially covered by braids of raven hair. 
 But it was the smile that had most of all attracted, 
 for it was the brightest he had ever seen, and the 
 more remarkable as the general expression of the 
 countenance was pensive. She stood now leaning 
 against the cabin door, while her father satisfactorily 
 proclaimed his country, by offering, in very good 
 English, to secure rooms for the invalid, in case he 
 should reach the hotel before him. 
 
 'Thank you — you are very kind,' he replied, 
 slowly rising, ' but as I have discovered that this 
 boat goes on with us to-morrow, I have made 
 arrangements for remaining in it. Landing, or 
 rather getting myself under way so early in the 
 morning, fatigues me too much.' 
 
 He advanced towards them while speaking, and 
 then followed them up the stairs to the deck, where 
 their perfect composure during the scene of con- 
 fusion that ensued, proved them to be experienced 
 travellers. They exhibited none of the anxiety 
 about their luggage, that put the whole ship's com- 
 pany into commotion when the tarpaulin was 
 
4 IIS" THE MIDST OF LIFE 
 
 removed, which had during the day-time covered 
 the innumerable trunks, boxes, bags, and portman- 
 teaux that had lain heaped together, not a few, as 
 is usual on such occasions, without an address, or 
 even the name of the proprietor. It seemed as if 
 each individual expected at once to have his pro- 
 perty, and the murmuring, growling voices of the 
 men mixed strangely with the sharp, impatient 
 tones of the women. Many, though surrounded 
 by packages of all kmds and dimensions, neither 
 trusting their eyes nor memories, imagined that 
 something must still be failing, and eagerly watched 
 each piece of luggage as it was drawm forward, 
 while the different emissaries from the hotels thrust 
 cards hito their hands, and vociferated recommenda- 
 tions into their bewildered ears. Some oddly- 
 shaped cases, that seemed to have once belonged to 
 a carriage, were pointed out with a silent gesture 
 by the Englishman, and then instantly seized by 
 the nearest porters, w^hile he turned to the invalid, 
 and, taking off his hat, politely hoped to have the 
 pleasure of seeing him the next day. A few 
 minutes afterwards, he and his daughter disap- 
 peared in the long procession of travellers, emis- 
 saries, porters, and truck-drivers, wdio hurried 
 towards the different hotels. 
 
 An unusually brilliant sunset had left a bright 
 orange-coloured sky that served to render the chief 
 buildings of the town still conspicuous, and which, 
 reflected in the broad tranquil river, gave the 
 warmth of colouring' and distinctness of outline to 
 
WE ARE IX DEATH. 
 
 the numerous boats and their picturesque rigging 
 that is supposed to be peculiar to warmer climes. 
 That recollections of similar places crowded on the 
 memory of the traveller, as he stood alone near the 
 rudder of the steam-boat, is possible, but not very 
 probable, for Englishmen are not prone to medita- 
 tions on past scenes or scenery ; it is more likely 
 that he was thinking of home, and what awaited 
 him there, while his eyes followed slowly the golden 
 ripple on the water, or rested in reverie on the 
 lounging figures of the surrounding boatmen. The 
 colours of evening changed imperceptibly from 
 violet to blue, from blue to grey ; but it was not 
 until the landscape had faded in the twilight, and 
 lights from the suburbs of the town began to 
 glimmer redly through the intervening mist, that 
 he turned away and descended to the pavilion. 
 
 It is unnecessary to follow^ him. We have but 
 to record that he was reminded of his dark-eyed 
 countrywoman by finding the book she had been 
 reading where she had probably placed it when 
 putting on her bonnet. The name written on the 
 yellow cover w^as 'Nixon,' and, though neither 
 euphonious nor remarkable, it seemed to attract his 
 attention in no common degree, for he repeated 
 it several times, and then murmured, ' Surely a 
 relation of ours married a man of the name of 
 Nixon — yes — certainly, that was the name — and 
 it w^as Harry Darwin's mother — the man a mer- 
 chant, or something of that sort, w^ho became a 
 bankrupt, or — no — squandered his fortune and was 
 
6 IN THE MIDST OF LIFE 
 
 obliged to live abroad — that was it. Harry never 
 liked speaking of his mother's second marriage 
 or his stepfather; however, I am rather surprised 
 he did not mention this half-sister of his, whom 
 he must have seen repeatedly, for before he began 
 to live in his yacht, he was continually making 
 excursions abroad, and especially to Germany. 
 I wonder is this the man I mean ? My mother 
 said he was a vulgar parvenu — parvenu he may 
 be — vulgar he is not — and as to his daughter — 
 one of whose grandmothers I strongly suspect 
 to have been the black-eyed Susan of nautical 
 celebrity — she is the nicest creature I have seen 
 for an age, and may turn out to be a relation of 
 ours. Let me see ; her maternal and my paternal 
 grandfather having been brothers, w^e should be 
 second cousins — or first cousins once removed — 
 or third cousins — or — At all events the name is a 
 sufficient pretext for commencing an acquaintance 
 with both of them to-morrow, and that I shall 
 certainly do.' 
 
 At a very early hour the next morning most of 
 the passengers of the preceding day, reinforced by 
 many other's, began to crowd noisily into the 
 steam-boat; not one, however, descended to the 
 cabin until long after the boat had left her moorings, 
 and our traveller was given more than time to finish 
 his breakfast in undisturbed solitude. Tapping 
 rather impatiently on Mr. or JMiss Nixon's book, 
 which he had placed beside him on the table, he 
 awaited the entrance of a group of English who 
 
WE ARE IN DEATH. 7 
 
 seemed to have chosen the stah's as the place for 
 discussing the events of the previous night; and 
 the words that he overheard proved them to have 
 been of no common-place description : — ' Dreadful 
 — awfully sudden — enormously stout man — looked 
 apoplectic — must have taken place just after he 
 w^ent to bed — the body was quite cold when they 
 broke open the door this morning — the poor girl 
 fainted — I saw her being carried across the passage 
 to her room.' With a degree of anxiety and in- 
 terest that surprised himself, he approached the 
 speakers, and learned from them that Mr. 
 Nixon, their fellow passenger of the previous day, 
 had been found dead in his bed about half an hour 
 before they had left the hotel. 
 
 * And is his poor daughter quite alone ?' he 
 asked compassionately. 
 
 'It seems so, but really I had no time to make 
 inquiries,' answered a gentleman, endeavouring to 
 pass into the cabin. 
 
 ' Oh I dare say the people at the hotel will do 
 everything that is necessary,' observed a lady, 
 apparently of a more inquisitive and communicative 
 disposition; 'and, at all events, the young lady 
 seemed to me extremely well able to take care 
 of herself under all circumstances. We joined the 
 table d'hote yesterday, when we found that we 
 could not procure a sitting-room, for you know it 
 is only Germans or French who can drink tea in a 
 bed-room ! She and her father were not for dis- 
 tant from us, and my attention was attracted 
 
8 IX THE MIDST OF LIFE 
 
 towards them by the variety and quantity of meat 
 and sauces devoured by him in the course of half 
 an hour. Poor man ! I did not know it would be 
 his last dinner or supper, whichever he called it — 
 nor he either, of course. But I must say, at a 
 public table I should be sorry to see my daughters 
 so perfectly at their ease as she seemed to be. 
 The manner in which her father made acquaintance 
 with all the people about him was quite extra- 
 ordinary, and the young lady joined in the con- 
 versation with a fluency scarcely becoming her 
 years, and not at all English !' 
 
 'I wish,' said the invalid traveller, languidly, 
 *I wish I had gone on shore yesterday evening. 
 I might, perhaps, have been of use. Going back to 
 the aw — aw — town, what's its name ? is aw — out of 
 the question now, as my return home has already 
 been provokingly protracted one way or another.' 
 
 ' Very kind of your lordship to feel so much 
 interest about a stranger,' rejoined the lady, 'but 
 you may be assured the people at the hotel will 
 pay the greatest attention to this Miss Nixon : my 
 daughters were actually refused a room they par- 
 ticularly wished to have, in order to let her be near 
 her papa, and the whole household was so occupied 
 with her this morning that we came away without 
 breakfast.' 
 
 This seemed to have been the case with many 
 other passengers also, and a clattering of cups and 
 saucers, and a hurrying to and fro of waiters 
 ensued, which apparently disturbed his lordship's 
 
WE ARE IN DEATH. 9 
 
 meditations, for he went on deck and watched the 
 swift motion of the steamer, as, aided alike by art 
 and nature, it hurried forward with the stream : 
 the water widening, the banks sinking, and wind- 
 mills serving as landmarks from the time they 
 entered the territories of Holland. 
 
 Flow on, river, as you have done for ages ! press 
 forward, steam-boat, to complete your daily task — 
 forward as quickly as your impatient passengers 
 can desire — there is but one among them who in 
 the course of the day bestows a passing thought on 
 the orphan girl whose sudden bereavement had 
 that morning so unpleasantly reminded them that 
 ' In the midst of life we are in death.' 
 
( 10 ) 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 A SHORT PEDIGREE. 
 
 Though few people could be induced by tbe sudden 
 death of a stranger at an hotel to protract their 
 journey in order to be of service to the survivor — 
 even supposing that person a young and helpless 
 girl — a return to the town on the Rhine, and a short 
 delay there with the daughter of Mr. Nixon, will 
 scarcely be objected to by any humane novel 
 reader. After the body of the deceased had been 
 examined, and the cause of death ascertained, the 
 civil authorities requested an interview with Miss 
 Nixon, and questioned her respecting her parents, 
 her age, her past life, and future prospects, ex- 
 hibiting very evident satisfaction on learning that 
 she had two uncles in London, was related to the 
 Earl of Medway, and had a step-brother who she 
 described as being of no profession but a gentleman 
 and a baronet. On being advised to write to this 
 brother without delay she was obliged to confess 
 that she did not know his address— her mother had 
 always sent her letters to him under cover to Lord 
 Medway, who had been his guardian, and who had 
 also managed all their English affairs for them. 
 She had never corresponded with her uncles, but 
 
A SHORT PEDIGREE. 11 
 
 had written to inform Lord Med way of her 
 mother's death, Avhich had taken place some months 
 previously, and she had received a very kind 
 answer ; her brother also had written, but had not 
 come to see them — he and her father had never 
 been on good terms. 
 
 These few particulars had been in a manner 
 extorted from the poor girl, as, scarcely recovered 
 from the shock she, had so recently received, she 
 leaned her head weeping on the table beside her ; 
 but when, on being asked if she had money to 
 defray her expenses to London, she silently pro- 
 duced a purse full of English sovereigns, they 
 recommended her, without further hesitation, to the 
 care of the landlady of the hotel, who was present; 
 and after a whispered proposal to the latter to give 
 her, in some more convenient place, the necessary 
 directions about the interment of the Englishman, 
 they all withdrew, and Leonora Nixon found her- 
 self, for the first time since she had known her 
 bereavement, alone. 
 
 She instantly sat upright, pushed her dark hair 
 from her pale face, seemed to listen intently to the 
 sound of the retreating footsteps ; and, when silence 
 was restored to the corridor, she rose, and mur- 
 muring the words_, ' Once more — I must see him 
 once more,' left the room, and ran quickly towards 
 a door at the opposite side of the passage, which 
 she opened with a precipitancy that proved the 
 violence of feelings she had thought it necessary to 
 control in the presence of strangers during the 
 
12 A SHORT PEDIGREE. 
 
 preceding hour. In the doorway, however, she 
 stood amazed, at first incapable of uttering an 
 articulate sound. No trace of her father was 
 there ; the bed in which he had died was deprived 
 of all its furniture, and a woman with water and a 
 brush stood scouring the interior, as if death had 
 infected the very boards. Strips of carpet hung 
 pendant at the wide-open windows, from which the 
 curtains had been removed, and a housemaid was 
 deluging the painted floor with fresh water, after 
 having placed the chairs and tables in an adjoining 
 room. Somewhat startled by Leonora's sudden 
 appearance, the girl stopped her work, and leaned 
 on her long-handled brush, while Leonora ad- 
 vanced, stammering, ' Where is — is — my — father ?' 
 
 ' The room must be got ready for the steam-boat 
 passengers this evening, miss,' answered the girl, 
 evasively. 
 
 'Where have they laid him?' she asked, with 
 assumed calmness. 
 
 ' Surely, miss, you don't want to see the corpse 
 again after being so frightened this morning ?' 
 
 'I do wish to see it,' said Leonora, 'and you 
 must take me to the room directly.' 
 
 ' But I have got orders not to let any one into it 
 until the coffin comes.' 
 
 ' Such orders cannot concern me. Give me the 
 key, and I promise to bring it back to you in half 
 an hour.' 
 
 'I must first ask the landlady,' said the girl, 
 evidently impressed with involuntary respect by 
 
A SHORT PEDIGREE. 13 
 
 Leonora's decided manner; and passing her 
 quickly, she was soon after heard speaking to her 
 mistress at the other end of the passage. They 
 then hoth advanced towards Leonora ; and after a 
 few words of remonstrance on the part of the 
 landlady, which of course made no sort of im- 
 pression, the latter proposed herself accompanying 
 the orphan to take leave of the remains of her 
 parent. 
 
 They descended the stairs, traversed a broad 
 corridor, and, to Leonora's infinite surprise, entered 
 the ball-room. She looked round her with a 
 bewildered air, while her companion slowly and 
 reluctantly unlocked the door of an adjoining 
 refreshment-room, and then silently pointed to a 
 long table, where, stretched on a mattress, and 
 covered with a linen cloth, the outline of a human 
 figure could be distinguished. 
 
 The windows were open, but the green jalousies 
 so arranged that little light fell on the features, 
 uncovered with eager haste by Leonora's trem- 
 bling hand. If the landlady had dreaded being 
 witness to a violent ebullition of grief, she was 
 soon convinced that her apprehensions had been 
 unnecessary. Large tears gathered slowly in the 
 eyes of the youthful mourner, and fell heavily on 
 the face of the dead : — alas ! that we should have 
 to record they were the only tears likely to be 
 shed for Frederick jSTixon ! No bad criterion of 
 our worth and usefiilness in this world would be 
 these tears, could thev but be collected ; a»nd not 
 
14 A SHORT PEDiaREE. 
 
 without deep meaning was the Eoman lachrimatory 
 and many funeral customs of other nations of 
 antiquity. In the present civihsed states of the 
 world it has become a sort of maxim that of the 
 dead we should only speak advantageously. The 
 Egyptians thought otherwise ; and their post 
 mortem trials, where every one was at liberty to 
 accuse the deceased, and the defence alone de- 
 pended on the good will and affection of surviving 
 friends and relations, may often have found a 
 place in the thoughts of the living, and prevented 
 many a sin of omission as well as commission. 
 
 Not few would, in such a case, have been Fred- 
 erick Nixon's accusers, his sole defender the orphan 
 girl, who, with the prospect of dependence on 
 unknown relations before her, and uncertainty as to 
 her reception among them, nevertheless sincerely 
 mourned the parent who had squandered her in- 
 heritance and left her homeless. We regret the 
 necessity of recording the story of his life, which, in 
 its dismal details, is too common either to create 
 interest or serve as warning. 
 
 His paternal pedigree had been of a more re- 
 spectable than brilliant description, until his father 
 became a man of importance in the commercial 
 world. This father had commenced his career in 
 the manner hereditary in the family, that is, as 
 shop-boy in Ids father's old established house in 
 the city, and had wisely preserved through life a 
 vivid recollection of having carried parcels to their 
 destination, and considered it an honour when 
 
A SHORT PEDIGREE. 15 
 
 permitted, in his turn, to stand behind the counter 
 and weigh sugar and spice for the numerous cus- 
 tomers ; or, on receiving an ' order,' to make up 
 with dexterous hand the various packages and 
 consign them to the care of his successor in office, 
 the attendant boy, who had been especially com- 
 manded to say ' Sir' to him. Being without 
 brothers or sisters, he found himself, on the death 
 of his parents, in possession, not only of an ex- 
 tensive business, but also a considerable sum of 
 money : the latter he increased by a judicious 
 marriage, and, being of an enterprising disposition, 
 engaged in successful speculations during the w^ar, 
 which raised him to a state of opulence quite 
 beyond his powers of enjoyment ; so that the accu- 
 mulated monev amounted, bv means of interest 
 and compound interest, to sums of such magnitude 
 that the shop was at length closed, and an emi- 
 gration commenced beyond the precincts of the 
 city. He had now an office and warehouses, and 
 when death deprived him of his wife, he found no 
 difficulty in obtaining the hand of one of the very 
 handsome daughters of an Irish gentleman of won- 
 derfully ancient family and distinguished poverty, 
 whose name, preceded by the euphonious particle 
 O, satisfactorily proved that he belonged to one 
 of the illustrious races said to be of royal lineage. 
 
 In the course of time, Mr. Nixon was made fully 
 to comprehend that a name is by no means so 
 insignificant a thing as Juliet Capulet supposed it 
 to be; for his wife, ardently desiring to regain what 
 
16 A SHORT PEDIGREE. 
 
 she considered her proper position in the world, 
 made many and desperate efforts to rise in the 
 social scale, and, as a first step thereto, unceasingly 
 endeavoured to induce her husband to remove to 
 the ' West End.' From the house in Kussell- 
 square, purchased and furnished at the time of their 
 marriage, he could never be induced to move; 
 neither would he give up old friends or habits^ and 
 to the last day of his life continued proud of 
 having been Lord Mayor, and gloried bond -fide in 
 the title of alderman. 
 
 The two sons of his first wife, born and educated 
 while he was still a hard-working man, acquired 
 his tastes and habits, and in process of time be- 
 came his partners ; but the only son of his second 
 wife, when rendered unmanageable at home by 
 indulgence, had been consigned to the care of, — 
 
 ' A clergyman, married, of much experience, 
 Avith extensive premises at the West End,' who 
 would ' receive into his family Eight Young Gen- 
 tlemen. The course of Instruction securing a 
 solid preparation for the universities, &c. &:c. S:c. 
 The treatment of the pupils truly parental.' 
 
 Parental it was in one sense certainly, for 
 parents are almost always careless instructors ; but 
 while lazily construing Yirgil and Homer, Master 
 Frederick grew healthy and handsome, and ac- 
 quired tastes, habits, and manners that his mother 
 pronounced exquisite, and which raised expecta- 
 tions of future triumphs in life, the disappointment 
 of which was spared her by an early death. 
 
A SHORT PEDIGREE. 17 
 
 With half a dozen of the ' eight young gentlemen ' 
 Frederick Nixon afterwards went to Oxford, where 
 he proved notoriously idle and indolent. Good- 
 humoured and lavishly profuse in his expenditure, 
 he was, however, universally called and considered 
 a ' capital fellow,' and in this opinion his father 
 prohably concurred, for he paid his debts without 
 expressing much astonishment at their amount, was 
 easily convinced that his son's talents were more of 
 a military than civil description, got a commission 
 for him in the Guards, and dying soon afterwards 
 used his plebeian privilege of dividing his fortune 
 with perfect equality among his sons, thereby 
 leaving them all well provided with what is but 
 too generally considered the greatest blessing in 
 life. 
 
 The step-brothers, malike in disposition, temper, 
 education, and habits, dissolved partnership, and 
 in the world of London seldom met again. Fre- 
 derick, freed from all restraint, possessed of a large 
 fortune and handsome person, fell at once into the 
 disorderly, if not actually profligate, mode of life 
 of his companions and nominal friends, and, without 
 being worse than others, contrived to give himself 
 an unpleasant kind of notoriety by the numerous 
 foolish things he said, and did, to obtain tolerance, 
 if not a position in society where a total want ot 
 connexion nevertheless ever caused him to feci 
 himself isolated. His efforts to remedy this latter 
 evil were unremitting, and at length partially suc- 
 
 VOL. I. C 
 
18 A SHORT PEDIGREE. 
 
 cessful, when he persuaded Lady Darwin, the 
 widow of a baronet of good family and daughter of 
 an Honourable Augustus Thorpe, to become his wife. 
 It is true, her cousin, the Earl of Medway, did not 
 receive his new relative with any demonstration of 
 satisfaction ; it was even said that he had openly 
 pronounced him to be a weak-headed spendthrift, 
 and given Lady Darwin to understand that, in 
 consequence of her marriage, he should consider it 
 necessary to send her only son (his ward) to school 
 without further delay. She resigned the youthfiil 
 Harry to the care of his guardian, and perceived 
 not at all the boy's gradual but total estrangement, 
 as year after year he spent less of his holidays with 
 her, and began completely to identify himself with 
 the Medway family. 
 
 Lady Darwin was still young and handsome, and 
 for some years her career was as brilliant as ap- 
 parently inexhaustible wealth could make it; but 
 Frederick Nixon had, even before his marriage, 
 considerably encroached upon his capital, which, 
 placed in the Funds, was completely at his dis- 
 posal ; and, totally averse to business of any kind, he 
 continued to supply all deficiencies of income in the 
 same manner. His wife, purposely kept in igno- 
 rance of the state of his affairs, thought not of 
 making retrenchments ; and, in the course of time, 
 was eager to plunge deeper into the dissipations of 
 the world to escape from the society of her husband, 
 who, after having frittered away a noble fortune in 
 the vain pursuit of selfish pleasure and ostentation. 
 
A SHORT PEDIGREE. 19 
 
 began altogether to lose the good temper for which 
 he had once been so remarkable. He became 
 irritable and restless, continually changing his place 
 of residence, and relieving immediate want of 
 money by the sale of one house, while incurring 
 debt, at the same time, by the purchase of another ; 
 and thus he struggled on until the crash, long fore- 
 seen by every one, took place; when the sale of 
 his effects, and his wife's resignation of thirty 
 thousand pounds, his wedding gift to her, having 
 satisfied his creditors, he was at liberty to retire to 
 the continent, there to live on her jointure from 
 her first marriage. 
 
 They had lost many children while in England, 
 but Leonora, born at a quiet town in Germany, 
 during the time of their first fresh grief, lived ; 
 and the change produced in their small household, 
 and cares imposed on them by her birth, turned 
 their thoughts into a new channel, and greatly 
 alleviated their useless regrets. While, however, 
 Lady Darwin quickly resigned herself to her loss 
 uf fortune, and continued to devote herself exclu- 
 sively to her child, her husband, suffering intolerably 
 from ennui, began, by degrees, to indulge in the 
 roving propensities common to his countrymen 
 when they have left England in search of a 
 foreign home. As far as was possible, too, he 
 fell into his former habits, and squandered, and 
 wandered when and where he could during his 
 wife's life-time. Her death, just as his daughter 
 had attained her fifteenth vear, left him and his 
 
20 A SHORT PEDIGREE. 
 
 child ill a state of painful destitution, and to tlie 
 two brothers he had so openly despised in the days 
 of his prosperity, Frederick Nixon was at length, 
 obliged to apply for assistance. It was not refused ; 
 each brother consented to give an annual sum of 
 money, for his support ; and in order to be near 
 England in case of pecuniary difficulties, he had 
 commenced a Ehine pilgrimage, uncertain where 
 he should finally establish himself with his daughter, 
 and contrive to live on an income, of the smallness 
 of which he complained as only those do who have 
 spent but never earned. 
 
 His faults and follies were alike forgotten by his 
 mourning daughter, as she bent over the well- 
 known face, and drew towards her the cold stiff 
 hand, that, but a few hours before, had, w^arm with 
 life, pressed hers. The landlady's various move- 
 ments of impatience — ^jingling of keys, opening of 
 windows, and displacing of furniture in the adjacent 
 room — were unheeded by Leonora until she became 
 conscious of the approach of two men, who, talking 
 loudly, and walking heavily, carried between them 
 a coffin of large dimensions. As they deposited it 
 on the end of the table, they took off their caps and 
 looked towards the landlady for orders. Leonora 
 shuddered, and allowed herself to be led from the 
 room without remonstrance, receiving a chilling 
 sort of consolation from the assurance given her 
 that her father should be interred with all the 
 consideration due to his rank. 
 
 That this promise had been fulfilled she had 
 
A SHORT PEDIGREE. 21 
 
 no doubt, when, a few days afterwards, the bills 
 were laid before her by the hostess. In fact, the 
 purse of sovereigns which had afforded such general 
 satisfaction a few days previously, became so greatly 
 reduced in its contents, that slie felt it was time to 
 decide on her future plans, and, having bolted her 
 door, she drew towards her, and unlocked, her 
 father's writing-desk. It contained even less 
 money than she expected, and some letters which 
 shocked and grieved her beyond measure, for, from 
 their perusal, she ascertained that her father had 
 already considerably overdrawn the allowance made 
 him by his brothers. His bills had been honoured, 
 but the letter informing him of the fact contained, 
 from his eldest brother, not only a reprimand of 
 extreme severity but a threat of retaining payment 
 by instalments on any future similar occasion. An 
 angry correspondence had ensued, followed by a 
 quarrel, and Leonora at length discovered that she 
 had been during the last two days unconsciously on 
 her way to England, where her father had hoped, 
 by his presence, to appease the ire of his justly- 
 incensed step-brothers. 
 
 Leonora perceived clearly, and at once, that her 
 father had been in the wrong, nevertheless, her 
 dislike to her City uncles (for so her mother had 
 invariably denominated them) increased tenfold. 
 She remembered all she had ever heard of their 
 purse-proud vulgarity ; called to mind the various 
 anecdotes of ludicrous economy and ignorance of 
 fashionable life on their parts, so often related, most 
 
22 A SHORT PEDIGREE. 
 
 probably with exaggeration, by her father; saw 
 all, and more than all, she had ever heard, confirmed 
 by the packet of well-written, business-like letters 
 before her, and resolved never to apply to such 
 men for assistance. Her thoughts naturally turned 
 next to her step-brother. Sir Harry Darwin, al- 
 though her acquaintance with him was but slight, 
 and her father had done everything in his power 
 to prejudice her against him, never naming him, 
 when her mother was absent, otherwise than ' that 
 self-sufficient egotist,' or ' that good-for-nothing 
 puppy Darwin.' She had seen him but twice 
 during her life. Once, when she was a mere child, 
 at Heidelberg he had joined them, intending to 
 enter the university there and remain for a couple 
 of years : he had, however, for reasons at that time 
 unknown to her, resided with them but as many 
 months. The second time was several years later, 
 at Vienna, but he had then come to their house as 
 a stranger might have done, and never without 
 having received a note from his mother to let him 
 know at what hour her husband w^ould be absent 
 from home. He had associated with people un- 
 known to them, and lived altogether with Lord 
 Medway's second son, the Honourable Charles 
 Thorpe, who had just then commenced his di- 
 plomatic career as attache. 
 
 This last meeting had occurred so recently that 
 Leonora had been old enough to perceive the 
 mutual antipathy of her father and step-brother. 
 She had been disposed to like the latter though he 
 
A SHORT PEDIGREE. 23 
 
 had taken but little notice of her, and had one day, 
 when she was present, observed to his mother, in 
 a slighting manner, that ' her daughter was a 
 thoroughbred Nixon, without apparently a drop 
 of Thorpe blood in her veins : he feared he never 
 should be able to consider her as in any way be- 
 longing to their family.' When taking leave of 
 them he had given his mother a considerable sum 
 of money, telling her, without an attempt at re- 
 serve, that on his becoming of age, his guardian. 
 Lord Medway, had pointed out to him the folly of 
 increasing her jointure, as it would only benefit 
 her husband, or rather encourage him in his ex- 
 travagance ; that he had therefore resolved to assist 
 her privately, and trusted she would wisely keep 
 secret his having done and intending to do so. 
 With a deep sigh Lady Darwin had acknowledged 
 the justness of Lord Med way's remark, and fully 
 determined to follow her son's advice ; but a few 
 days after his departure, when goaded by her 
 husband's ironical observations about ' the extra- 
 ordinary generosity of her son Sir Harry,' while 
 he pointed to and pretended to admire some trifling 
 gold trinkets that had been his ostensible present, 
 she had confessed all, and produced, with short- 
 lived exultation, the money, which was incontinently 
 taken possession of by Frederick Nixon. He, 
 however, in the excess of his surprise and satisfac- 
 tion, had overseen a purse of sovereigns, and she 
 had not thought it necessary to point it out to his 
 notice, but dropping it into her pocket with much 
 
24 A SHORT PEDIGREE. 
 
 of the trepidation of a criminal dreading detection, 
 it had been from that time forward carefully con- 
 cealed, not again seeing the light of day, until, on 
 her death-bed, she had privately consigned it to the 
 care of her daughter, with the injunction to reserve 
 it for some occasion of imminent distress, and w^hen 
 all other resources should fail. Often, when her 
 father was subsequently in embarrassments, had 
 Leonora considered if the designated time were not 
 come for her to produce her treasure, as often had 
 the last clause of her mother's speech deterred her. 
 Other resources had been found, silver, furniture, 
 books, had been sold, until, as her thoughtless 
 parent observed with a light laugh, ' They w^ere at 
 last travelling in the pleasantest manner possible, 
 with nothing but their respective wardrobes to care 
 for.' • 
 
 The time had suddenly arrived Avhen Leonora 
 had had no doubt as to the necessity of using the 
 contents of this purse. She held it now, much 
 diminished in worth, in her hand, and having 
 counted the remaining' sovereigns and some Prus- 
 sian dollars, perceived that she should just be 
 able to await the answer to the letter which she 
 prepared to write to Lord Medway to tell him 
 of her desolate position, and request him to forward 
 an enclosed letter to her step-brother, of whose 
 address she was in utter ignorance. 
 
 From Sir Harry she expected but little sympathy 
 or brotherly love, and her whole trust was in Lord 
 Medway, of whose kmdness and excellence she had 
 
A SHORT PEDIGREE. 25 
 
 heard so much from her mother that she scarcely 
 knew whether she most loved or revered him. She 
 carried the letter herself to the post office, and 
 before parting with it breathed a short prayer that 
 God would raise up friends to her in her time 
 of need and not long leave her homeless. 
 
( 26 ) 
 
 CHAPTEE III. 
 
 DOWN THE RHINE AND UP THE THAMES. 
 
 The return of the post brouglit Leonora the 
 anxiously expected answer to her letter. Her 
 eagerness at first impeded her powers of compre- 
 hension, and she was obliged to read it twice 
 over before she understood that she was without 
 delay to repair to Lord Medway's house in 
 London, where her afiairs would be considered 
 and discussed with the necessary attention, and her 
 plans for the future arranged as advantageously as 
 possible. Energetic on all occasions, she sprang 
 from her seat, tied on her bonnet while rapidly 
 descending the stairs of the hotel, and went, without 
 a moment's delay, to the office where places were to 
 be procured in the steam -boat that was to leave the 
 next morning for Rotterdam. 
 
 It was not until after her return to the hotel, and 
 the first excitement of acting for herself had partially 
 subsided, that she again carefully and calmly 
 perused the letter. She had previously not ob- 
 served that it was written on paper with the very 
 broadest of black edges, a mourning which it now 
 occurred to her was deeper than that likely to have 
 been considered necessary by Lord Medway for her 
 
DOWN THE RHINE AND UP THE THAMES. 27 
 
 mother, and for her father she never expected him 
 or anv of his family to mourn outwardly or in- 
 wardly. Again she examined the letter, imagined 
 the handwriting changed — firmer, and at the same 
 time more careless ; but as she knew he had been 
 ill, she supposed it not unlikely that he had em- 
 ployed an amanuensis. The signature appeared 
 quite the same as usual, and she put it aside, 
 packed up her clothes, and went to bed, resolved to 
 sleep off the cares and anxieties which crowded on 
 her mind at the near prospect of undertaking, 
 for the first time in her life, a journey alone. Such, 
 however, was the buoyancy of her mind, that all her 
 perplexities were chased by vivid surmises as to the 
 personal appearance of Lord and Lady Medway, 
 their sons and daughters ; and her last thought, 
 in falling asleep, was of the Charles Thorpe of 
 whom her step-brother had spoken incessantly, and 
 who seemed from his account to be idolized, not 
 only by his own family, but by all the world besides. 
 The next morning Leonora and her antiquated 
 carriage cases were carefully committed to the 
 charge of the captain of the steam- boat by the 
 hotel-keeper and his wife, who had shewn her much 
 kindness and attention during her ten days' sojourn 
 with them. They remained as long as they could 
 with her, and when parting shoved into her hands a 
 basket full of grapes and cakes, hurrying away 
 afterwards without listening to her thanks, and 
 from the shore bowing and waving their hands and 
 handkerchiefs as long as she remained in sight. 
 
28 DOWN THE RHIXE 
 
 ' These strangers have been kind to me,' thought 
 Leonora, ' why should I fear that those on whom 
 I have some natural claims will prove otherwise ?' 
 
 Of the kindness of strangers she had no further 
 proofs worthy of notice for a couple of days. The 
 route by Rotterdam is that of home-returning 
 families burthened with luggage, or commercial 
 travellers : the latter scarcely observed her presence, 
 the former did not approve of the appearance of a 
 girl so young being quite alone : and prudent parents 
 frowned down the incipient attempts of sons willing 
 to offer civilities to eyes so dark and face so fair. 
 
 It was well for Leonora that she was in mind 
 less youthful than in appearance, and that her 
 knowledge of various languages helped her through 
 the little difficulties which invariably fall to the lot 
 of a solitary female traveller at the much dreaded 
 foreign douane, and the infinitely more disagreeable 
 English Custom-house. 
 
 Her ideas of the vastness and commercial im- 
 portance of London were certainly not decreased 
 by her passage up the Thames. All foreigners 
 should choose that approach to the metropolis if 
 they wish to receive new impressions ; even those 
 from maritime countries cannot fail to be struck 
 with the endless row^s of ships that form a floating 
 world around them. The word foreigner, as applied 
 to herself, would have been most offensive to 
 Leonora, whose pride in being an Englishwoman, 
 and admiration and reverence for everything Eng- 
 lish, were as unbounded as her ignorance of the 
 
AND UP THE THAMES. 29 
 
 manners and customs of the country which she 
 pertinaciously called her * native land.' Unwilling 
 that even her fellow passengers should suspect this 
 to be her first passage up the Thames^ she sat on 
 the still damp, green benches in the stern of the 
 Dutch steam-boat, a perfectly silent observer of all 
 that was new to her. Through a rather dense, 
 yellow fog she first saw the great ships of war ; then 
 more clearly the merchantmen in apparently in- 
 terminable lines; large steamers rushing past, con- 
 taming perchance persons and papers of incalculable 
 importance ; smaller ones darting in all directions, 
 filled with people and things of less note ; and manv 
 crowded with gaily-dressed pleasure-seeking parties. 
 Innumerable boats of various dimensions and forms 
 plyed across the river from ship to ship, or supplied 
 the latter with fresh provisions : each and all afforded 
 her endless interest, while from the colliers alone 
 she turned away as children are wont to do fi:om 
 chimney-sweepers. It was Sunday, and she saw 
 both ships and crews in their best attire. There was 
 none of the usual hurry and bustle, and as the 
 sailors leaned lazily over the gunwale of their 
 ships, or descended smartly dressed into attendant 
 boats in order to go ashore, she found more resem- 
 blance to other places and people than she perhaps 
 desired ; while the dark-looking wharfs, stores, and 
 warehouses not a little disappointed expectations 
 of the banks of the Thames, that partiality had 
 unconsciously raised to a par with the beautiful 
 quays of southern cities of less note. 
 
Q 
 
 BO^VN THE RHINE 
 
 All comparisons with other lands were soon, 
 however, lost in wonder at the apparently endless 
 number of ships, which, as they proceeded, seemed 
 to increase, and at last close around them ; so that 
 when the noisy escape of steam convinced her that 
 they had reached their mooring-place, she still saw 
 beyond her an interminable extent of masts and 
 rigging, with a dark background of massive build- 
 ings becoming gradually clearer in the rays of red 
 sunshine that struggled through the slowly dis- 
 persing fog. 
 
 In the year 1840 there was no St. Katharine's 
 Wharf to facilitate the landing of travellers, and 
 Leonora's contemplations were interrupted by the 
 arrival of the Custom-house officers. Her luggage 
 was detained, her carpet bag, after a severe exami- 
 nation, returned to her, and having dragged it to the 
 side of the ship, she waited patiently for an 
 opportunity of descending into one of the numerous 
 boats surrounding them. There was a great deal 
 of shouting, and swearing, and pushing, and pulling, 
 and loud dialogues carried on in a language un- 
 intelligible to her, though an occasional word made 
 her aware that it was intended for English. An 
 elderly French gentleman, who had been invisible 
 during the voyage, having been drawn forward by 
 the crowd, began slowly and carefully to descend 
 the side of the ship, and when about half- way 
 attempted, in very broken English, to make a 
 bargain for the transporting of himself and sac de nidt 
 to the hospitable shores of old England. He was, 
 
AND UP THE THAMES. 31 
 
 however, immediately somewhat rudely shoved 
 forward by two sailors who stood at either side 
 of the ladder, and who then looked up with grinning 
 faces to see who would come next. There was 
 a pause, no one seemed disposed to follow, and 
 Leonora, taking advantage of the open space, 
 directly advanced. She was politely requested 
 'not to be afeard,' then fairly Hfted into the boat 
 very much in the manner of a package marked 
 'Glass — keep this side up' — deposited beside the 
 Frenchman, and though the boatmen evidently 
 expected and wished for more passengers, they 
 were, in spite of their vociferations, pushed aside 
 and forced to pull towards the landing-place. It 
 was at a short distance further up the river, 
 and they reached it in about ten minutes ; but 
 as the French gentleman prepared to step on shore 
 he was desired first to pay his fare, and the 
 evidently much valued sac de nuit drawn from his 
 reluctant hands as a pledge for the same. He gave 
 two shillings — four shillings — six shillings — and 
 then looked with an expression of astonishment at 
 the impudent laughing faces of the boatmen. 
 When, however, he closed his purse, and en- 
 deavoured to gain possession of his property, they 
 waved him off, and explained by words and the 
 extension of so many fingers, that for less than 
 eight shillings he should not enjoy the privilege of 
 landing on British ground. 
 
 ' Dat is four pour mademoiselle and four pour 
 moi ?' 
 
32 DOWN THE RHINE AXD UP THE THAMES. 
 
 They explained, with imperturbable insolence, 
 that 'poor or rich ma'mselle must pay eight 
 shillings as well as mounshier, and they seized her 
 property, also, to explain alike their determination 
 to persist in their claims, and fully to explain their 
 meaning, which they doubted her understanding, as 
 they had only heard her speak French to her fellow- 
 traveller. Leonora instantly paid the eight shil- 
 lings, without an attempt at remonstrance ; and 
 then, in better English than was perhaps quite 
 agreeable to them, hoped at least that one of them 
 would carry her bag and place it in a carriage for 
 her. After a few words of advice to her travelling 
 companion to follow her example, she ran up the 
 landing-place, and was soon after rolling rapidly 
 towards B Square. 
 
( 33 ) 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 LEOXORA NIXON^ LANDS—AND FORTHWITH 
 FINDS A GUARDIAN. 
 
 Only those who have travelled, and not unfre- 
 quently themselves remained stationary for some 
 time at various places on the continent of Europe, 
 can form an idea of the numbers of British subjects 
 who, from necessity, or for economy, or pleasure, 
 reside there. The wanderers, scarcely deserving 
 the name of residents, are perhaps still more 
 numerous, and to both classes children are born, 
 who, educated and not unfrequently married with- 
 out having ever been in England, nevertheless 
 persist in calling it their native land, denominate 
 themselves Enghsh, and think it incumbent on 
 them to be peculiarly and even sometimes ostenta- 
 tiously patriotic. 
 
 One of these pseudo-English was Leonora 
 Nixon. England was to her the land of promise, 
 the home of her imagination. Her father had 
 ever taken a sort of pride and pleasure in abusing 
 foreign habits and manners, even while himself 
 unconsciously acquiring them. He had impressed 
 on her mind so exalted an idea of England, both as^ 
 
 VOL. I. D 
 
34 LEOXORA NIXON" LANDS, 
 
 country and nation, that she supposed ignorance 
 alone enabled her still to value what she saw 
 elsewhere ; and his brilliant and somewhat boasting 
 reminiscences of his life in London, received too 
 much confirmation from her mother's fond recollec- 
 tions of the same scenes, not to be listened to with 
 profound and eager credulity. During the long 
 private conversations between the mother and 
 daughter, it was especially the glory and excellence 
 of the Medway family that had formed the topic of 
 discussion — the worth and dignity of Lord ^led- 
 way, the beauty and grace of Lady Medway, her 
 enviable position in the world of fashion, her 
 charming children, the magnificence of Thorpe 
 Manor, and even the humbler beauties of a villa on 
 the Thames called The Willows. Of her paternal 
 relations, the JSTixons, Leonora had, as has been 
 observed, heard nothing that had tended to raise 
 them in her -estimation — vulgar, purse-proud, city 
 people. She wished to forget their very existence, 
 and pretty nearly contrived to do so as she drove 
 along the silent, empty streets of London, internally 
 applauding the evident keeping holy of the sabbath 
 day, and doing no manner of work, which the still 
 unopened shutters of the windows so satisfactorily 
 demonstrated. 
 
 Her predetermination to admire everything 
 English was, during this early Sunday morning 
 drive, put hardly to the proof: there were no open 
 warehouses, with their marvellous display of costlv 
 goods to attract her attention ; no bustling crowd 
 
AND FORTHWITH FINDS A GUARDIAX. 35 
 
 to amaze her with its endless swarms ; no palace- 
 like buildings, such as had been familiar to her 
 eyes from childhood ; and as she glanced curiously 
 up at the interminable rows of dingy brick houses, 
 with their unornamented facades of three and four 
 windows, she was obliged to recal to her mind all 
 her mother had told her of the luxury and domestic 
 comfort which could only be obtained when each 
 family, as in England, possessed a house alone. 
 
 The prospect brightened as she advanced west- 
 ward. The squares were succeeded by long, wide 
 streets ; buildings of some extent became visible in 
 the distance ; there were occasional glimpses of the 
 parks ; more rows of shopless houses, trees, grass, 
 iron railings, and at length the cab stopped. A 
 knock, and instantaneous opening of a large hand- 
 some door followed ; but although two servants 
 became visible, neither moved beyond the threshold, 
 and the cabman returned to Leonora for orders. 
 ' Ask if I can see Lady Medway.' 
 The man came back directly with the answer, 
 
 ' Her I'ship has left town for the Willys.' 
 
 'Perhaps Lord Medway is still here,' suggested 
 
 Leonora, getting rather nervous. 
 
 She saw the servants look at each other, and 
 
 then at her, and half smile as one of them 
 
 answered, ' His lordship is in town, but not up ; 
 
 he always breakfasts late, and it would be better if 
 
 the young lady were to call again.' 
 
 ' Oh ! if he be but at home, that is all I want,' 
 
 cried Leonora, joyously springing up the steps to 
 
o 
 
 G LEOXORA XIXOX LAXDS, 
 
 the door ; ' I can wait until his usual breakfast 
 hour, and do not wish him to be disturbed on my 
 account.' 
 
 One of the footmen now whispered a few words 
 to a servant out of livery, just then about to ascend 
 the stairs : he turned round, looked deliberately, 
 almost inquisitively, at Leonora, and then asked 
 her name. 
 
 Not apparently much enlightened by hearing it, 
 he nevertheless opened the door of the breakfast- 
 room, and requested her to wait while he informed 
 Lord Medway of her wish to see him. 
 
 • Leonora was too anxious to take much notice of 
 the room or its furniture ; she stood with her eyes 
 fixed on the closed door, listening for the sound of 
 returning footsteps, which the well-carpeted stairs 
 rendered inaudible ; but so intense was her atten- 
 tion that she soon after heard a low voice say 
 distinctly, ' All right, Williams, take in the travel- 
 ling bag and dismiss the cabman.' A moment 
 afterwards the door was opened, and she was 
 respectfully informed, ' That his lordship was up, 
 and would come down as soon as possible ; he 
 hoped Miss Nixon had had a good passage from 
 Rotterdam : had he known when she was likely to 
 arrive he would have sent a carriage : — begged she 
 would breakfast without waiting for him.' 
 
 All this was very satisfactory ; and with a sigh 
 of relief Leonora took off her bonnet, and for some 
 time calmly watched the quick yet noiseless pre- 
 parations for breakfast They were, however, no 
 
AND FORTHWITH FINDS A GUAEDIAN. 37 
 
 sooner completed, and she Avas once more alone, 
 than her uneasiness and anxiety returned ; and 
 after walking for some time up and down the room, 
 she threw herself into a chair, and awaited the 
 coming interview with a sort of desperate resolu- 
 tion that enabled her effectually to overcome the 
 faintness that befell her as the door at last opened ; 
 and advancing towards her she saw — not the 
 benevolent-looking, venerable friend she had ex- 
 pected, but the invalid traveller of the Khine 
 steamer ! 
 
 ' Miss Nixon,' he said, in a low and rather weak 
 voice, ' I know you did not expect to find in me 
 your late correspondent. Let me assure you that 
 nothing but the fear of filling your mind with 
 doubts, and creating useless difl[iculties, prevented 
 me from informing you of my father's death when 
 I answered vour letter.' 
 
 Leonora, who had risen for a moment, again 
 sat down, struggled v/ith her feelings of regret, 
 disappointed hopes, and personal annoyance for a 
 few seconds, and then burst into tears. 
 
 ' I — I did not know that you had been person- 
 ally acquainted with my father,' said Lord Med- 
 way : ' from some letters found among his papers 
 I was led to suppose that he had corresponded with 
 your mother, and chiefly as guardian to her son. 
 In fact, I imagined you in want of an adviser and 
 friend, both of which my father would have been 
 to you most undoubtedly had he lived. I hope I 
 have not erred in proposing to take his place, or 
 
38 LEONORA XIXON LAXDS, 
 
 supposing that my services would be as acceptable 
 to vou as his.' 
 
 ' He was my only friend,' said Leonora, in a 
 voice nearly choked by emotion, ' the only one of 
 otir family who ever remembered my name, or 
 seemed conscious of my existence.' 
 
 ' And when did you last see him ?' asked Lord 
 Medway, leaning his elbow on the chimney-piece, 
 and watching, with an air of mixed surprise and 
 commiseration, the uncontrolled expression of her 
 almost passionate grief: 'When did you last see 
 him ?' 
 
 ' I never saw him,' she answered, looking up, 
 and at the moment the utter selfishness of her 
 sorrow struck lier so forcibly that she compelled 
 herself to overcome it ; and removing the traces of 
 tears from her face, she stood up, and in a tolerably 
 composed voice informed him of his father's kind 
 letter to her after the death of her mother, and 
 offers of friendly services should she ever be in 
 w^ant of them. 'I mention this,' she added, 'that 
 you may not think I applied to him without a 
 right to do so : his loss to me is just now 
 irreparable, as it obliges me to apply to my step- 
 brother, who, I fear, will have little inclination to 
 assist a person he could scarcely learn to tolerate 
 even for his mother's sake.' 
 
 ' You don't mean that Harry does not like you!' 
 said Lord Medway. 
 
 ' I once heard him say,' answered Leonora, 
 ' that the name of Nixon would stifle any feelings 
 
AXD FORTHWITH FINDS A GUARDIAX. 39 
 
 of regard he might ever be disposed to feel for me. 
 You have, I hope, had the kindness to forward my 
 letter to him, and if you will now only let me 
 know where he is to be found ' 
 
 ' You could scarcely ask me a more puzzling 
 question,' answered Lord Medway, smiling ; ' I 
 forwarded your letter to my brother Charles, Avho 
 is at Vienna : he keeps up a desultory correspond- 
 ence with Harry, and generally knows something 
 of his whereabouts — he believes him to be now at 
 some place on the coast of Syria, m his yacht ; but 
 when your letter will reach him is very uncertain.' 
 
 ' What is to become of me !' cried Leonora, 
 covering her face with her hands, while visions of 
 her city uncles and their plebeian families floated 
 distractingly before her haughty imagination. 
 
 ' You will of course remain with us — with my 
 mother, until you hear from Harry,' suggested 
 Lord Medway. 
 
 Leonora instantly caught at this idea. ' Can I 
 go to Lady Medway to-day ?' she asked quickly. 
 
 ' My mother is at present from home on a visit 
 to some relations,' he answered, * and only my 
 youngest sister is at The Willows. I shall, how- 
 ever, have great pleasure in taking you there to- 
 morrow.' 
 
 'And why not to-day?' she asked a little 
 anxiously. 
 
 ' I'm sure I don't know. I aw — suppose — there 
 is nothing to prevent us from driving there after 
 we have breakfasted, and aw — been to church ?' 
 
LEON'ORA NIXOX LAXDS, 
 
 He rang the bell, and afterwards, during a t>jte-a- 
 Ute of more than an hour, they strode towards 
 mtimacy with seven leagued boots, Leonora being 
 perfectly communicative on every subject except- 
 ing her uncles ; and Lord Medway informing her 
 that he had been a sad, idle, worthless fellow ; but 
 now intended to reform, and, if his health allowed 
 him to winter in England, proposed becoming a 
 pattern country gentleman. He evidently con- 
 sidered a regular attendance at church, as a first 
 and very important step towards the meditated 
 change, and nothing could equal the gravity and 
 decorum of his manner, as he accompanied 
 Leonora to church, and his attention to the service 
 when there. She did not at all believe that he 
 had ever been idle or worthless, and when he rose 
 from his knees at the end of the Litany, apparently 
 exhausted, tears of genuine compassion dimmed 
 her eyes to think that so excellent a young man 
 seemed doomed to an early grave ! This feeling 
 must have been in some degree participated by a 
 large proportion of the congregation, if one might 
 judge by the looks of interest which reached them 
 from the remotest corners. The carpeted and 
 wxll-cushioned pews of the Chapel of Ease, as it 
 Avas called, were occupied by a congregation who 
 were all either sufficiently acquainted to speak or 
 who at least knew each other by sight. Lord 
 Medway's appearance wdth a young and remark- 
 ably pretty stranger, in as deep mourning as his 
 own sister could have worn, created quite a sensa- 
 
AND FORTHWITH FINDS A GUARDIAN. 41 
 
 tion ; more eagerly than usual was he surrounded 
 as he left the church, more numerous than ever 
 were the inquiries concerning his health, and plans 
 for the summer ; the querists dehberately examin- 
 ing his companion while hstening to his languid 
 negligent answers. To not one did he name her, 
 to not one did he mention his intention of leaving 
 town that afternoon ; but drawing her arm within 
 his, increased their curiosity by murmuring a few 
 words of German, and then sauntering slowly 
 homewards. 
 
 ' I fear,' said Leonora, after having seen him 
 throw himself at full length on a chaise longue^ and 
 resolutely close his eyes ; ' I fear you will not be 
 able to drive to The Willows to-day.' 
 
 * Oh, yes ; I shall be quite well again after I 
 have slept a little and dined. You won't mind 
 dining with me at two o'clock, will you ? I am 
 obliged to keep invalid hours at present.* 
 
 ' I am accustomed to dine early,' answered 
 Leonora. 'What people call dinner here would 
 be supper to me.' 
 
 ' Ah, true — I had forgotten that you are scarcely 
 an English woman.' 
 
 With considerable warmth she explained that 
 ' she did not think her having by chance been born 
 in a foreign country, in any way lessened her right 
 to consider herself one.' 
 
 ' I referred to your habits and education/ said 
 Lord Med way, amused at her eagerness. 
 
 ' Papa's habits were very English, and mamma 
 
42 LEOXORA XIXOX LAXDS 
 
 directed mv education herself, I — I only,' she 
 added with some reluctance, ^ only went occasion- 
 ally for a few months to a foreign school, when, on 
 removing to a new country, it w^as necessary to 
 acquire the language quickly.' 
 
 'What immense advantages you have had,' he 
 observed thoughtfully ; ' I dare say, now, you 
 speak three or four languages quite as well as 
 English.' 
 
 Leonora was silent. She could not contradict 
 the assertion ; but would have greatly preferred 
 his saying, that she spoke the last named as if she 
 had never been out of England. 
 
 ' The only way to learn these languages pro- 
 perly,' he continued, * is to live abroad. And 
 with what ease can they be acquired in early 
 youth — with what labour at a later period !' 
 
 Leonora just then, felt too English to value in 
 the least her linguistic acquirements, and when he 
 again spoke and remarked, that travelling about, 
 as she had done, imperceptibly formed both mind 
 and manners, almost without instruction, and 
 added that she was ' charmingly degagee^ and not 
 at all prudish, or like an Englishwoman,' she 
 rose, and with a formality w^hich seemed to con- 
 tradict his last words, * feared she was preventing 
 him from sleeping, and would not further intrude 
 upon him.' 
 
 ' Stay, Miss Nixon — stay ; I can't go to sleep 
 this half hour,' he cried, starting up; 'and as to 
 intruding, I never heard anything so absurd ! 
 
AND FORTHAVITH FINDS A GUARDIAN. 43 
 
 Why we're relations, aren't we ? Come back, and 
 let us find out in what degree.' 
 
 These last words were not without effect : Leonora 
 was at the door — she stopped a moment, looked 
 back with a bright smile, and seemed to hesitate ; 
 but then saying : ' We can talk of that some other 
 time, you must go to sleep now,' she resolutely 
 closed the door. 
 
 For the first time in her life she had now an 
 opportunity of inspecting a really well-furnished 
 house. She had not unfrequently been the inmate 
 of suites of rooms approached by marble staircases ; 
 of airy Italian villas 5 of apartments with fresco- 
 painted walls, and statue-filled anti-chambers ; but 
 cold and comfortless came the recollection of such 
 domiciles, when compared with the perfectly 
 elegant luxury of the furniture of this English 
 home. All that art, and taste, and wealth, could 
 command, or fancy suggest of useful or beautiful 
 was there, and all so judiciously in keeping that the 
 most careless observer must have been charmed. 
 She had not examined half the china, bronze, and 
 or-molu ornaments, the tables, carpets, and book- 
 cases ; and was delightedly turning over the leaves 
 of- a volume of magnificent prints, when the an- 
 nouncement of dinner obliged her to join Lord 
 Medway. 
 
 It was still early when they were seated in the 
 carriage, on their way to the Willows. Once 
 fairly out of the immediate precincts of London, 
 Leonora became eager in her praise of the various 
 
44 LEONORA NIXON LANDS, 
 
 crescents, squares, and rows of neat houses which 
 long made the suburb appear a continuation of the 
 metropolis. These houses gradually assuming a 
 country air, diminished in height as their possessors 
 increased their extent of lauded property ; begin- 
 ning with the little garden in front, progressing to 
 the small shrubbery, followed by more or less 
 ambitious attempts at avenues ; then some trees to 
 shut out the road, and finally the walled domain ! 
 
 Much as Leonora was bent on finding every 
 thing in England supereminently excellent and 
 admirable, she was somewhat puzzled to find any 
 object worthy of commendation, when their road 
 lay between high walls topped by iron spilies, or 
 hideous fragments of broken glass bottles. The 
 dust seemed forced to hover around them, while 
 the overhanging trees, giving an idea of green 
 woods beyond, became at last so tantalizing, that, 
 after a long silence, she could not help drawing a 
 comparison between the road scenery of other 
 countries and England, which was not exactly 
 advantageous to the latter. 
 
 Lord Medway seemed roused to unusual atten- 
 tion, and replied quickly, ' It is quite natural that 
 you should merely glance at things with the eye of 
 a foreigner, and, like them, form hasty conclusions. 
 I can easily understand your disapproving of these 
 walls ; but there are two sides to every question. 
 You have as yet no idea of the extent and popula- 
 tion of London, and were you for some time an 
 inmate of one of these places, you would, for more 
 
AND FORTHAVITH FINDS A GUARDIAX. 45 
 
 reasons than I can now explain to you, be very 
 glad to have a barrier between you and a high road 
 such as this !' 
 
 Leonora thought this might be true, but was 
 surprised at the warmth of her companion's defence 
 of the ugly broken-bottle-topped walls, as he had 
 not only abused every thing English during dinner, 
 but had unreservedly laughed at her, perhaps, 
 indiscriminate praises of all she had since seen. 
 She was not yet aware that an Englishman's abuse 
 of his country is about as sincere as his abuse of 
 himself. He may call the laws confused and 
 intricate, the climate atrocious and so forth ; but 
 he does so much as he would call himself a dolt or 
 a donkey, great being alike his surprise and indig- 
 nation at finding anyone inclined even for a 
 moment to agree with him. 
 
 Leonora begged him playfully not to remind 
 her so very often of her foreign education, and 
 assured him she was quite disposed, in fact, rather 
 expected (with the exception of the walled-in roads), 
 to find everything faultless in England. 
 
 ' Then you will be bitterly disappointed,' said 
 Lord Medway. 
 
 ' I do not quite agree with you,' she rejoined. 
 ' There, for instance, is a village, and here are 
 trees and meadows answering all my expectations.' 
 
 ' That village is not far from The Willows,' said 
 Lord Medway, ' and at the next turn we shall see 
 the river and soon after the house.' 
 
 The WillovtS was what is called a jointure-house ; 
 
46 LEOXORA XIXOX LAXDS, 
 
 it was there that all Countesses of Medway took up 
 their abode, inspected schools, were good to the 
 poor, and died respected and lamented by all who 
 had the happiness of knowing them. But it was 
 not there that they were buried — their remains 
 were conveyed to the family vault at Thorpe 
 Manor, there to be solemnly interred in the presence 
 of the surviving family. On former melancholy 
 occasions of this kind, many days had been neces- 
 sary to convey the coffin and coach full of mourning 
 servants to their destination ; on the last as many 
 hours had sufficed for the same purpose per rail- 
 road, thereby proving that railroads are curtailers 
 of grief as well as distance. 
 
 The Willows had been long uninhabited, ex- 
 cepting occasionally for a few days, when there 
 were races or archery meetings in the neighbour- 
 hood; and the present possessor having three 
 young and unmarried daughters, was not likely to 
 be as constant a resident as her predecessor. She 
 had already left it, accompanied by her two elder 
 daughters, to spend a few weeks with relations, at 
 whose house a select party of friends had assembled 
 to offer her all the consolation in their power. It 
 had been said The Willows required repair, and 
 some tiles had been put on the roof, the doors and 
 windows painted, and the chintz curtains washed. 
 Further orders had not been given, and, perhaps, 
 they were not necessary, for the house was com- 
 fortably, though not luxuriously furnished. As 
 Leonora drove up the short avenue, so short that it 
 
A\I) FORTHAVITII FINDS A GUARDIAN. 47 
 
 scarcely deserved the name, and gazed up at the 
 long low red brick house, with its ground floor, 
 first story, and high weather-beaten tiled roof, a 
 look of disappointment passed over her expressive 
 face, which was mstantly observed by her com- 
 panion, who seemed to study her countenance as 
 earnestly as Lavater himself could have done. 
 
 ' Leonora,' he said, smiling, and laying particular 
 emphasis on her name (they had discovered that 
 they were cousins in some way or other, and had 
 become very good friends during the day), ' Leo- 
 nora, this is not one of the disappointments I 
 foretold. Wait until you have seen the other side 
 of the house before you pass judgment on The 
 Willows.' 
 
 They entered the hall, w^hich was large, and had 
 an old-fashioned fireplace, not far distant from the 
 commencement of a broad oak staircase, rendered 
 almost black by oil and age ; they then passed into 
 an anti-room redolent of fresh flowers in vases and 
 pots, concealed by green wicker-work stands, and 
 thence into a long drawing-room, with windowed 
 recesses that seemed to belong to octagonal turrets, 
 each forming a sort of separate apartment, while 
 between them glass doors led into a garden ter- 
 minating in shrubberies with groups of forest trees. 
 
 The undoubtedly antiquated furniture of the 
 room was covered with a gay coloured chintz; its 
 want of elegance of form being, however, amply 
 compensated by its variety and comfort. This 
 chintz, perhaps, concealed more costly material, for 
 
48 LEONORA NIXOX LANDS, 
 
 each succeeding dowager had added some favourite 
 pieces of furniture, so that the covers now served 
 but to give them all the necessary uniformity. 
 The setting sun shone brightly into the room and 
 lighted the figure of a fair-haired girl of about 
 fifteen, who, after uttering a slight exclamation 
 of surprise, sprang forward and embraced Lord 
 Medway with an emotion that wavered strangely 
 between joy and sorrow. 
 
 ' My dear Severton — a — a — I mean Med — .' 
 
 ' Never mind, that, Jane. — Let me introduce 
 our cousin Leonora Nixon to you.' 
 
 Lady Jane looked round hastily, gazed half in- 
 quiringly, half amazedly, at Leonora, saw nothing 
 repelling, perhaps something the contrary, in her 
 appearance, and held out her hand, murmuring 
 something about having so many cousins that she 
 scarcely knew all their names. 
 
 It was hardly to be expected that she should 
 know Leonora's, never in all her life having heard 
 it, but, without w^aiting for an answer, she turned to 
 her brother, and said, ' How kind of you to come 
 to see me — I gave up all hopes from the time 
 mamma went to you !' 
 
 ' If you promise to be very attentive to me, 
 perhaps I may stay here for a few days,' he an- 
 swered, smiling. 
 
 ' Oh, so attentive !' she exclaimed, pushing a 
 large chair towards him, and seating herself on a 
 footstool beside him, while Leonora walked to one 
 of the glass doors, ' so attentive and obedient ! 
 
AXD FORTHWITH FIXDS A GUARDIAN. 49 
 
 you may send me twenty messages in an hour and 
 I shall not grumble or pout my lips, as you used to 
 say I did.' 
 
 * Twenty messages in an hour ! surely I never 
 was so unconscionable !' 
 
 ' Indeed you were ; but I was often disobliging 
 enough too — however, that was all a hundred years 
 ago. Tell me something about yourself now. 
 Mamma and Grace wrote to me after they had 
 seen you, and said you had grown rather thinner, 
 but that you were getting much better, and they 
 hoped you would be induced to remain in England 
 this winter.' 
 
 * If not,' answ^ered Lord Medway, * I intend to 
 propose your all spending the winter with me at 
 Nice.' 
 
 ' Oh how delightful ! nothing I should like so 
 much as going abroad. I really at times feel quite 
 ashamed of never having left England.' 
 
 ' And there is your cousin Leonora, who is quite 
 ashamed of never having been here.' 
 
 ' Never been in England ?' 
 
 ' No. She was born and has spent all her life, 
 hitherto, on the continent.' 
 
 ' Do tell me how she is our cousin,' whispered 
 Lady Jane. 
 
 ' She is step-sister to Harry Darwin — her mo- 
 ther and our father were cousins, you know.' 
 
 ' Oh !' 
 
 ' So you see — she is second cousin or a — aw — 
 
 VOL. I. E 
 
50 LEONORA XIXOX LAXDS, 
 
 first cousin once removed, or a — something of that 
 sort — a cousin at all events.' 
 
 When Leonora perceived the gradual lowering 
 of the voices to a confidential whisper, she stepped 
 into the garden, and having walked a short distance, 
 turned round to take a view of the house. It 
 might have been originally at this side also a long 
 low red brick building, but changes had been 
 effected, and additions made, until it had assumed 
 the appearance styled Elizabethan ; and as Leo- 
 nora's wondering eyes wandered along the puz- 
 zlingly irregular fa9ade, seeking sympathy and 
 finding none, she was fully impressed with the 
 idea intended to be given to all beholders unlearned 
 in such matters, that the mansion was of great 
 antiquity. 
 
 She was soon after ioined bv Lord Medwav and 
 his sister^ and commenced a walk through gardens 
 and shrubberies kept with a neatness perfectly new 
 to her. The grounds, running along the banks of 
 the Thames, were tastefully and advantageously 
 laid out, and contained fine specimens of forest and 
 other trees, single and in groups, and among them 
 sufficiently conspicuous, and near the house, some 
 splendid weeping willows — which had probably given 
 the place its name. Under these trees were seats, 
 and there they sat down to watch the approach of 
 night. 
 
 It was a calm warm evening, and a pleasing glow 
 spread over the whole scene as the sun disappeared, 
 and left the sky covered with fantastic-looking 
 
AXD FORTHWITH FINDS A GUARDIAN. 51 
 
 bright red and yellow clouds, that were distinctly 
 reflected on the clear surface of the river. Occa- 
 sionally a heavily-laden barge glided slowly past, or 
 a light wherry darted across to the landing-place 
 of some other villa, but it was not until a succes- 
 sion of boats filled with a gay party returning from 
 a pic-nic came close beneath the willows that they 
 moved. Lord Medway had accosted some friends, 
 and great was their surprise, as they said, to see him 
 there, looking so well, and able to sit out so late on 
 the damp banks of the river. On this hint a hasty 
 retreat was made to the house. Lady Jane openly 
 expressing her anxiety, and hoping and trusting he 
 had not caught cold, to prevent which she ordered 
 a tire in an odd-shaped little room, where they 
 drank tea and spent the evening together very 
 gaily. 
 
 UNIVERSITY OF ltUNO-'= 
 
( 52 ) 
 
 CHAPTEE Y. 
 
 THE WILLOWS. 
 
 One week, and then a second, and then a third 
 passed over calmly and pleasantly at ' The Willows.' 
 For some undoubtedly good reason, which Lord 
 Medwav did not think it necessary to communicate 
 to his companions, he had from day to day deferred 
 writing to his mother, and Leonora, after being- 
 desired somewhat authoritatively to ' leave every- 
 thing to him,' concerned herself no farther about 
 the matter. Lady Jane was too young, and had a 
 much too exalted idea of her brother's wisdom to 
 offer either advice or remonstrance, and having 
 yielded at once to the boundless admiration for 
 Leonora with which she had suddenly been in- 
 spired, informed every one who chose to hear it, 
 that she liked her better than all her other cousins 
 — that she was the most dear, darling, clever 
 creature she had ever seen, the only one who 
 suited her exactly for a companion, and could 
 make her quite contented to stay at home until 
 Grace or Louisa were married. 
 
 To all this Lord Medway listened approvingly, 
 agreed with his sister in thinking it would never 
 answer to let Harry Darwin take charge of Leo- 
 
THE WILLOWS. 53 
 
 iiora, even if he proposed doing so on his return to 
 England, and when they were alone together, 
 
 * hoped ' his mother would allow her to remain 
 with them until — until — - 
 
 ' Until Harry is married,' suggested Lady Jane. 
 
 * Oh, I am sure mamma will have no objection 
 when I promise to speak French constantly, and 
 to learn German from her ; do you know, I think 
 German does not sound at all disagreeably when 
 she speaks it; and then she sings such lots of 
 pretty little songs — but she says they sound better 
 to a guitar — I wish you would send to town for one.' 
 
 ' Of course I shall,* he answered, ' and in the 
 mean time she must sing to me with a pianoforte 
 accompaniment. I dare say she plays famously !' 
 
 ' Not exactly — it is rather in an odd sort of way, 
 for her father did not like to hear her practise, 
 so she learned altogether differently from other 
 people.' 
 
 ' How so ? I heard her playing some sacred 
 music very nicely.' 
 
 * That's it !' cried Lady Jane, ' she has learned 
 theoretically, and can go on playing chords and 
 composing for herself whole hours together.' 
 
 ' A much pleasanter kind of accomplishment 
 for a private performer than rattling eternally at 
 those dreadful fantasies and variations like Grace 
 and Louisa,' observed Lord Medway. ' Tell her 
 to come here, Jane ; say, I want her to write 
 letters for me, as I am too much fatigued to sit 
 up any longer.' 
 
54 THE WILLOWS. 
 
 He stretched himself on a sofa as he spoke, and 
 when Leonora appeared, pointed to a table beside 
 him on which were writing materials. He dictated, 
 and she wrote, sealed, and addressed as he directed 
 her ; the last letter was an order for a guitar with 
 case, strings, &c., and then she looked up in- 
 quiringly. 
 
 ' For you — to serenade me with,' he said, nod- 
 ding his head, and Leonora smiled and folded the 
 letter, with a slight increase of colour, that he 
 thought became her exceedingly. 
 
 The guitar arrived the next evening and was 
 carried into the garden, where, to Lady Jane's 
 infinite delight, Leonora hid herself behind a clump 
 of trees, and by a few chords or a verse of a song, 
 attracted the attention of all the passers by on the 
 river. At a later hour she played at serenading 
 too, sitting outside the drawing-room window, and 
 recalling distant scenes and persons to Lord Med- 
 way's mind by a succession of light French, sweet 
 Italian, and melodious German airs. When she 
 re-entered the room he seemed to be indulging in 
 a deep reverie, while Leonora, drawing a chair close 
 to Lady Jane's, and unconscious of being watched 
 or listened to, yielded without reserve to the gaiety 
 inspired by her own music, and sang, laughed, 
 talked, and related some travelling adventures with 
 such humour, that Lord Medway, irresistibly at- 
 tracted by her amusing gaiety, moved unperceived 
 his chair behind hers, and she was first made aware 
 of his vicinity by a hearty fit of laughter on his 
 
THE WILLOWS. 55 
 
 part that startled himself by its mirthful boyish 
 sound. 
 
 This liad taken place very shortly after her 
 arrival, and a slight sketch which she afterwards 
 gave of her short but not unadventurous life, 
 seemed at once to remove all barriers to intimacy, 
 and their intercourse thenceforward lost every trace 
 of new acquaintanceship. 
 
 Lady Med way's letter announcing her intended 
 return home, gave pleasure to Lady Jane alone — 
 ' She so much wished Leonora to know dear 
 mamma, and darling Grace and Louisa, and then 
 they could have some nice little pic-nics in the 
 neighbourhood, and — ' but here she was stopped 
 by Leonora asking anxiously if there were no 
 mention made of her in the letter. 
 
 Lady Jane had not observed the omission ; she 
 glanced once more at it, and then her look of 
 inquiry, though less intense than Leonora's, was 
 turned towards her brother. 
 
 His pale face became unusually flushed, and 
 there was a good deal of nervous irritation in the 
 manner in which he suddenly rose from the break- 
 fast-table and said, ' I have not yet written about 
 you, Leonora, but I suppose I must do so to-day ; 
 there is, however, time enough— and I feel better 
 now than for some time past — more equal to the 
 exertion.' 
 
 He had ever found his health so impenetrable a 
 shield against reproaches implied or expressed, that 
 he never failed to use it ; and Leonora was not 
 
56 THE WILLOWS. 
 
 only silenced, but even felt great compassion a 
 couple of hours afterwards^ when she saw that he 
 had written an unusually long letter, and appeared 
 extremely fatigued. 
 
 Lady Medway arrived the ensuing week. She 
 was what is generally termed ' a fine woman ' — 
 that is, she was tall, handsome, and distinguished- 
 looking, and inclined just so much to embonpoint 
 that, with the partial loss of symmetry of figure, 
 she had preserved a good portion of the freshness 
 and beauty for which she had long been remark- 
 able. Lady Grace and Lady Louisa resembled 
 their mother a good deal in appearance ; they were 
 lady-like, and had already enjoyed several seasons 
 in London, which had given them considerable 
 knowledge of the world^ and what is called a plomb. 
 
 They all received Leonora kindly, putting her 
 at once at her ease by seeming to consider her 
 being at ' The ^\^illow^s ' the most natural thing 
 possible. She was very much pleased, and very 
 grateful, and thought Lady Medway the most 
 charming person she had ever seen, the most 
 amusing person she had ever heard talk — especially 
 when, seated beside her son's sofa, her feet stretched 
 out before her on a footstool, she related all that had 
 occurred in their family during his absence abroad. 
 She touched but once, and then lightly, on his not 
 having been able to return home for some time 
 after his father's death, ending by assuring him, 
 with a w^armth that made no small impression on 
 Leonora, that dearest Charley had supplied his 
 
THE WILLOWS. 57 
 
 place to them all, and that nothing could equal 
 his attention to her, or energy in business of every 
 description. 
 
 ' Charley was always a capital fellow,' murmured 
 Lord Medway in reply. 
 
 * We thought him greatly improved in appear- 
 ance, too,' she continued. 
 
 ' I think him much the same as ever,' he re- 
 joined ; * very like you in face, very like my father 
 in figure, and his manners all his own.' 
 
 Lady Grace and Lady Louisa joined their 
 mother in pronouncing Charley's manners perfect. 
 
 ' Well, I believe he is pretty generally con- 
 sidered a gentlemanlike sort of fellow,' he observed, 
 indolently ; ' people even admire and applaud his 
 eccentricities, perhaps because they are essentially 
 English. For my part I sincerely rejoice in all 
 his faults and foibles, as I should consider a 
 paragon younger brother a decided bore.' 
 
 ' Has he done or said anything to offend you ?' 
 asked Lady Medway, quickly. 
 
 ' Quite the contrary ; he has saved me such an 
 infinity of trouble that I have forgiven him for 
 having called me a lazy hypochondriac, and recom- 
 mending a course of his own rough exercise to a 
 man in my state of health !' 
 
 'Perhaps,' began Lady Medway, hesitatingly, 
 ' perhaps, my dear love — a little exertion on your 
 part occasionally might be beneficial to your ' 
 
 ' Do you, too, begin to consider me a malade 
 imaginaire ?' he asked, peevishly. ' Do you think 
 
58 THE WILLO"V\'S. 
 
 the life I lead at present is agreeable ? I tell you 
 it is not ; and if,' be added, rising and ^valking 
 towards tbe door leading into tbe garden, ' if I 
 could witb balf my fortune purchase health and a 
 constitution such as Charley's, I would do it to- 
 day, without waiting for to-morrow.' 
 
 As he stepped out of the room his mother 
 sighed, and turning to her eldest daughters, ob- 
 served, ' Is it not melancholy to see such terrible 
 want of energy ? His desire to be considered an 
 invalid has become a positive mania.' 
 
 Leonora did not hear the answer, she follovred 
 Lord Med way and Lady Jane into the garden, 
 and began to collect flowers to make a bouquet for 
 the former, such as she knew he liked. His 
 mother had since his arrival so completely mono- 
 polized him that for several days she had scarcely 
 had an opportunity of speaking to him. When he 
 now sat down under one of the willow-trees, she 
 placed herself beside him, and while arranging her 
 bright-coloured verbenas and pelargoniums, hoped 
 he could bestow a few minutes of his precious time 
 upon her — ^just enough to tell her if his mother 
 would permit her to remain at ' The Willows ' 
 until she received an answer from her brother 
 Harry — she had not courage to ask Lady Medway 
 herself. 
 
 * It will be long before Harry gets your letter,' 
 he replied, evasively, ' still longer before you can 
 have an answer to it. Suppose you should be 
 obliged to pass the winter here ?' 
 
THE WILLOWS. 59 
 
 ■ 'I should be but too happy,' said Leonora, 
 looking up with a smile. 
 
 'And do yoLi not find it dull in this place, after 
 the gay, wandering life you have hitherto led?' 
 
 * Dull in such society ? Oh, no ! — I wish I 
 could spend the rest of my life here.' 
 
 'Indeed! and how much of that wish mav I 
 place to my own account ?' 
 
 'A large fifth portion,' she answered, twisting 
 some bast round her bouquet, — ' a large fifth portion. 
 I like Jane best — you next — then Grace — then 
 Louisa — and then Lady Medway — I am a little, a 
 very little, afraid of her still, because — because I 
 don't think she quite likes me.' 
 
 ' You are mistaken, Leonora ; she likes you 
 very much, but — ' 
 
 Leonora looked up anxiously. 
 
 ' She thinks you ought to have been more 
 candid with me in the first instance, and not 
 concealed the fact of your having two uncles living 
 in London, able, and probably willing, to be of use 
 to you, but who may now reasonably be displeased 
 at your avoidance of them. She even fears they 
 are in ignorance of your present place of abode. 
 Is this the case ?' 
 
 ' It is,' answered Leonora, her eyes filling with 
 tears ; ' but, oh ! if you knew how I fear and 
 dislike these uncles ' 
 
 * Are you personally acquainted with them ?' he 
 asked, surprised. 
 
 ' No ; but I have heard of them all my life from 
 
60 THE WILLOWS. 
 
 mamma and papa : they are purse-proud, vulgar 
 men; and in papa's writing-desk I found such 
 severe letters from my uncle Stephen to him that 
 I quite dread a meeting. It is true papa had 
 overdrawn his allowance, and was rather in the 
 wrong; but under the circumstances the threats 
 were so ungenerous, so ungentlemanlike, that ' 
 
 ' Let me see these letters,' he said, interrupting 
 her, and Leonora throwing her half finished bouquet 
 and remaining flowers over his crossed arms, ran 
 into the house. 
 
 She soon returned, and then with heads bent 
 together they pored over uncle Stephen's epistle ; 
 Leonora reluctantly admitting her father's error 
 but eloquently commenting on the harshness of the 
 manner in which he had been reproved. 
 
 ' It is the letter of an angry man of business,' 
 said Lord Medway, folding it up and returning it 
 to her. ' I believe, Leonora, the less we say about 
 this matter the better. What sort of a man,' he 
 added, after a pause, 'what sort of a man is your 
 other uncle ? Gilbert I believe is the name.' 
 
 ' Rather less disagreeable but infinitely more 
 vulgar, according to papa's account,' she answered, 
 ' but you see the letter is a joint concern — he says, 
 "my brother Gilbert and I," throughout.' 
 
 'True,' said Lord Medway, musingly, 'I must 
 explain all this to my mother — it would never do — 
 careless as Harry is, he would scarcely approve of 
 his sister's being sent to people among whom we 
 should completely lose sight of her.' 
 
THE WILLOWS. 61 
 
 ^ My uncle Stephen's house is in Russell Square,' 
 began Leonora, despondingly, 'so except when you 
 happen to be in town I should be very far away 
 from you and Jane.' 
 
 ' And even then you would be very far away 
 from us,' he observed, smiling, 'so far, that I 
 refuse my consent to any arrangement beyond 
 letting your uncles know where you are now living. 
 Perhaps, however, in the excess of your patriotism 
 you would prefer any residence in England to one 
 on the continent just at present ?' 
 
 'You think,' said Leonora, 'I shall have no 
 answer from Harry before you go abroad.' 
 
 * I am sure you will have none,' he replied, with 
 emphasis. ' Now listen to me, Leonora, you have 
 very exalted ideas of England and the English, and 
 I have no desire to lower either in your estimation : 
 for this reason, and perhaps some others also, I do 
 not wish you to go to Russell Square. On the 
 contrary, I hope to be able to induce you for 
 my sake to leave England again for some time. 
 My mother and sisters spend the w^inter with me at 
 Nice — promise me to go there with us ?' 
 
 ' If Lady Medway have no objection — ' began 
 Leonora. 
 
 ' She will be my guest,' he interposed quickly, 
 ' and you, Leonora, will be the same — for — some 
 — time.' While speaking he took her hand, and 
 drawing her towards him looked earnestly into her 
 face w bile he added, ' But you must tell me that 
 you will leave England without regret, that vou 
 
62 THE WILLOWS. 
 
 can do so willingly, because you know that you 
 will add to my happiness — ' 
 
 * And Jane's,' said Leonora, smiling. 
 ' No Janes,' cried Lord Medway, impatiently, 
 ' you must think of me and me alone !' 
 
 At this moment a low soft voice immediately 
 behind them said gently, ' Is it prudent your 
 remaining out here when it is so late and so very 
 damp ?' 
 
 He turned round, evidently not pleased at the 
 interruption. It was his mother, who stood close 
 to them. She might have heard the latter part of 
 their conversation, but there was nothing in her 
 manner to lead any one to suppose so. - Her eyes 
 were fixed on the dusky fog that now seemed to be 
 slowly drifting along the river towards them, w^hile 
 she added, ' One feels that it is September, and that 
 winter is approaching. Let us go in and sit round 
 the fire, the pleasantest place by far on such an 
 evening as this !' 
 
 ' It is damp, but not cold,' said Lord Medway, 
 rising. ' Come, Leonora, you shall read the papers 
 to me. I want you to acquire a taste for politics.' 
 * Let me or Grace read to you,' said his mother, 
 ' we shall ourselves be interested while so employed, 
 while to Leonora it w^ill be an unnecessary trial 
 of patience. She and Jane can take a walk in 
 the shrubbery — the evening fog will do them no 
 harm.' 
 
 Leonora had no particular fancy for reading 
 newspapers, nor did she fear the fog, so she turned 
 
THE WILLOWS. 63 
 
 back to Lady Jane, who was springing along a 
 gravel walk with a small spaniel barking at her 
 heels, and followed her slowly with thoughts full of 
 having to leave England before she had seen 
 almost anything of it — of returning to Nice, where 
 she had already spent two winters with her dying 
 mother — of Lord Medway's unusually earnest 
 manner, until her companion suddenly ceased 
 playing, and, snatching up her dog in her arms, 
 breathlessly exclaimed, ' Oh, Leonora, only think ! 
 After all you may see Charley before we leave 
 England !' 
 
 'How so?' asked Leonora, with an eagerness 
 and interest only to be accounted for by the fact, 
 that, added to what she had already heard of him 
 from her step-brother, he had been latterly the 
 subject of constant conversation between her and 
 her friend .Tane. 
 
 * Because, vou see, mamma wrote to Charlev the 
 day after she came here, and an answer arrived this 
 morning.' 
 
 ' Well ?' said Leonora. 
 
 ' Well, I heard mamma say to Grace and Louisa, 
 that she would write again and request him to 
 come to England, if only for a fortnight, as she 
 required not only advice but assistance.' 
 
 ' About Avhat ?' asked Leonora. 
 
 * I'm sure I don't know — something concerning 
 Med way, I should think, as they talked of the 
 necessity of getting him off to Italy without 
 delay.' 
 
64 THE WILLOAVS. 
 
 * He has asked me to go with you,' said Leonora. 
 
 * And you will go — Oh say yes !' 
 
 'Of course I shall, if La'iy Medway have no 
 objection.' 
 
 ' What objection can she have ?' 
 
 ' I don't know.' 
 
 ' Nor I either. Do you, Azor ?' she cried, appeal- 
 ing to the struggling little animal in her arms, 
 bending down her face and speaking with closed 
 teeth. ' Can you think of any possible reason why 
 Leonora should not go with us to Italy ? No ! 
 you see he is quite delighted at the idea,' she 
 added, when, having let him spring to the ground, 
 he began to caper round them, barking with all his 
 might, as if inviting them to join in his gambols- 
 Kepeated gestures of pretended anger, various 
 grimaces and shakings of the head having failed to 
 silence him, a chase began, and soon after the 
 sound of youthful laughter, intermixed with Azor's 
 sharp barks, reached the drawing-room through the 
 still unclosed windows. Lord JMedway became 
 singularly inattentive to his mother's reading — 
 begged she would not give herself so much 
 trouble — the papers were really not worth reading 
 just now — scarcely anything going on at home, and 
 nothing at all elsewhere — he believed he wished for 
 tea — and — w^ould it not be better to send to Jane 
 and Leonora, and desire them to come in ? 
 
( 65 ) 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 AN * enemy' procures LEONORA AN 
 ENGLISH HOME. 
 
 Lady Med way's attention to her son became 
 from day to day more assiduous ; she was ably 
 assisted by her two elder daughters, and Lord 
 Medway, constitutionally indolent, and sincerely at- 
 tached to his mother and sisters, was exceedingly 
 gratified, and only occasionally a very little bored. 
 Some weeks elapsed without his having found a 
 convenient opportunity for renewing his interrupted 
 conversation with Leonora, though he had not un- 
 frequently, in an impatient pettish manner, said, that 
 'He chose to have Leonora to sit beside him,' or, 
 *He wanted to speak to Leonora.' On such 
 occasions, a place in his immediate vicinity was 
 instantly ceded to her ; but the attention then 
 bestowed on the youthful guest, completely over- 
 powered her. Even Medway himself felt a sort 
 of reserve creep over him, in the presence of so 
 many appa;*ently eager listeners. Lady Medway 
 invariably laid down book or work, and whether 
 near or distant, turned her face towards them with 
 a benignant smile. Lady Grace pushed forward 
 her embroidery frame, and Lady Louisa, with 
 YOL. I. F 
 
66 ' AN * ENEMY ' PROCURES LEONORA 
 
 a playfulness for which she was remarkable, never 
 failed to seat herself on a favourite foot-stool at her 
 brother's feet, and kindly request Leonora to relate 
 her life and adventures ; 
 
 ' Whereof by parcels she had something heard, 
 But not intentively.' 
 
 Leonora would not consent, however, and the con- 
 versation was in the end carried on between Louisa 
 and her brother, or Lady Medway advanced to the 
 rescue, and allowed Leonora to slip away to her friend 
 Jane or the garden, the first convenient opportunity. 
 
 Letters of importance began to arrive from 
 London for Lord Medway, and it became evident 
 that he would be obliged to spend some days in 
 town. He prepared to do so most unwillingly, tried 
 to persuade his mother that it was necessary they 
 should all accompany him, and received for answer, 
 that she must remain at The Willows until various 
 unavoidable arrangements, before leaving England 
 for so long a time, were completed ; if the arrange- 
 ments could be made in the course of the ensuing 
 week, she would follow him to town without delay, 
 or to Paris, should he think it advisable to precede 
 them. For her part, she thought it very desirable 
 that he should reach a warmer climate before the 
 weather became wintry. 
 
 Lord Medway said, he would ' think about it,' 
 and did so, perhaps, occasionally, for some days ; at 
 the end of which time a messenger was sent late 
 one evening from London, to inform him that his 
 brother Charles had just arrived from Vienna, had 
 
AX ENGLISH HOME. 67 
 
 but one week to spend in England, and hoped that 
 he would leave The Willows and join him in B — 
 square, without delay. 
 
 Lady Medway expressed more surprise at her 
 son Charles' arrival than Leonora expected, after 
 having heard fi'om Jane that her brother would 
 probably come to England, in consequence of a 
 pressing request from his mother. Her look of 
 inquiry was answered by Jane in a w^hisper : ' I 
 suppose Charley first said he could not come, and 
 after all has managed it ; some way or other he 
 always contrives to do whatever he likes.' 
 
 * I suppose I must go to town to-morrow,' said 
 Lord Medway ; ' but, with Charley's energetic 
 assistance, we may manage to start for the Con- 
 tinent in a week or ten days ! I dare say,' 
 he continued, glancing towards Leinora, ' he can 
 tell us something about brother Harry ; but 
 at all events,' he added, turning to his mother, 
 ' nothing shall now interfere with the arrangement 
 for Leonora, about which I spoke to you yesterday.' 
 
 ' Of course not.' she replied, dryly ; and rising 
 abruptly, she walked towards a wTiting table at the 
 other end of the room, and there found occupation 
 until it was time to separate for the night. 
 
 When leaving the next morning. Lord Medway 
 begged his mother to follow him as soon as possible, 
 told Jane she might take Azor to Italy with her, 
 and then, turning to Leonora, hoped she had not 
 forgotten her promise about going to Nice, and 
 assured her that being at some place on the coast 
 
68 AX ^exemy' procures leoxora 
 
 of the Mediterranean^ was her best, if not only, 
 chance of seeing her brother for years. 
 
 When she looked towards Lady Medway, hop- 
 ing for a word or look of at least acquiescence, 
 her ladyship seemed altogether engrossed by some 
 directions which she was giving to a servant about 
 a letter that he was to deliver without delay to 
 her son Mr. Thorpe. 
 
 Some few words Lord Medway then added in 
 a whisper to Leonora ; ' He feared he should find 
 the time pass very dismally without her, even for 
 one solitary week — he was convinced he should be 
 bored to death — most probably he would return in 
 a few days, and bring Charley w^th him — entreated 
 her not to forget him — and made her promise to 
 try and like him better even than she liked Jane !' 
 
 Leonora promised, and hoped he would bring 
 Charley to The Willows. And she did hope this 
 with all her heart, for if the truth must be told, 
 she had taken a singular fancy to the boy portrait 
 of him that hung beside that of her brother Harry, 
 in the breakfast-room. Often, when she was sup- 
 posed to be looking at the latter, had her eyes been 
 fixed on the miniature of the proud, manly-looking 
 boy with his whip, and his dog, and his great grey 
 eyes ! and then, when Jane told her of his wild 
 pranks, and his courage, and extraordinary strength, 
 Leonora feared — yes, feared — she should prove un- 
 grateful, and like him betters-far better — than 
 her kind and gentle friend Medway ! 
 
 Lady Medway 's silence respecting the projected 
 
AN ENGLISU HOME. 69 
 
 journey during the ensuing week, surprised 
 Leonora much, as the intercourse of letters was 
 apparently incessant. Lady Jane^told her, in con- 
 fidence, they were almost all from Charley, adding 
 mysteriously, that he did not appear quite to 
 approve of the plan of their going to Nice for the 
 winter. Leonora attached infinitely less import- 
 ance to this remark than it deserved, and forgot it 
 completely a few evenings afterwards, when, at 
 tea time, a packet of notes arrived, with one for 
 herself, from Lord Medway. He informed her 
 very briefly, that all his arrangements were com- 
 pleted, and that, urged by his brother, he had con- 
 sented to leave England in the course of a few 
 days — that he should not, however, go further 
 than Paris, without them all, and, therefore, hoped 
 she would forthwith have her 'cofters,' as she 
 called them, packed up, as he found it impossible 
 any longer to exist without the society and services 
 of his charming little secretary. 
 
 Lady Medway 's eyes were fixed on Leonora's 
 smiling face, as she stood by the fire-place and read 
 these hurried lines. Explanation of some kind 
 respecting the journey to Nice was now inevitable, 
 and to promote it Leonora silently handed the note 
 to her ladyship, who was sitting unusually upright 
 on an adjacent sofa. 
 
 ' It is a fortunate circumstance, my dear girl,' 
 began Lady Medway, after a pause, ' a most for- 
 tunate circumstance, that you so greatly prefer 
 England to the Continent; were it otherwise I 
 
70 AN ' enemy' procures leoxora 
 
 really should be extremely embarrassed at this 
 moment.' 
 
 Leonora's fac^ said more plainly than her words, 
 ' I do not understand — ' 
 
 ' It is a curious coincidence/ her ladyship con- 
 tinued, in her softest voice, * that I, this very 
 morning, received a letter written by your uncle 
 Stephen, to say that he would send a — a person 
 here to-morrow to take charge of you and convey 
 you safely to his house in Russell-square.' 
 
 ' My uncle ! but I — I did not ask him to send 
 for me — I have not written to him since I have 
 been in England !' 
 
 * So I perceive from his letter, and I must say, 
 Leonora, it was very injudicious your so openly 
 neglecting such a rich relation.' 
 
 ' But his riches can in no way concern me,' 
 suggested Leonora, hurriedly. 
 
 ' It seems, however, he offers you a highly re- 
 spectable, and a — a — comfortable home — one which 
 may lead, in all probability, to the possession of 
 future affluence,' observed Lady Medway. 
 
 Leonora felt greatly inclined to say that she 
 would not go to her uncle, that she should greatly 
 prefer spending the winter at Nice — when it sud- 
 denly occurred to her that the announcement had 
 been made without a word of regret, and that 
 perhaps Lady Medway was unwilling to add 
 another member to her family. Bending forward 
 she therefore said in a low voice, ' You do not wish 
 to take me to Nice ?' 
 
AX ENGLISH HOME. 71 
 
 ' Most willingly, my dear Leonora, would T take 
 you with me, if I should not, by doing so, deprive 
 you not only of the protection of your nearest 
 relations, but also of the chance of hereafter in- 
 heriting from them.' 
 
 Leonora made an impatient gesture. 
 
 ' Why not T continued her ladyship. ' This uncle 
 of yours is, by all accounts, so rich, that he could 
 provide for you without injuring his own family in 
 any perceptible manner — and let me tell you, dear 
 Leonora, that I cannot do so. We all like you, 
 for Jane you are a charming companion, but after 
 having made you sacrifice your relations, and, pro- 
 bably, considerable pecuniary advantages, what 
 have I to offer you? Literally nothing. With 
 two already grown-up daughters, and a third, 
 who, in a couple of years, will also expect to 
 be introduced to the world, myself a widow, and 
 consequently reduced in circumstances, what could 
 I do with a young person such as you are ?' 
 
 She paused, but Leonora made no attempt to 
 answer her question, and after a moment's hesita- 
 tion, her ladyship, gently compelling her to sit 
 down beside her, enlarged with eloquence on the 
 same theme, ending by an appeal to her good 
 sense, and an assurance of unalterable regard on 
 her part. 
 
 A good deal softened by this speech, Leonora 
 sat for some moments silent and motionless, her 
 eyes fixed intently on the floor. The necessity of 
 resignation to her fate, and the certainty that Lady 
 
72 AN ' EXEMY ' PROCUKES LEONORA 
 
 Medway would not take her to Nice, had become 
 so evident to her, that Lord Medway now reigned 
 paramount in her thoughts. She feared he might 
 suppose that she had joined in deceiving him in 
 order to remain in England, and she continued this 
 train of ideas when, taking his note from Lady 
 Medway's hand, she murmured, 'What will he 
 think of me ? what will he say T 
 
 ' Very little, Leonora,' answered her ladyship, 
 quietly ; ' I am sorry to be obliged to undeceive 
 you respecting Medway, but — a — his wish to have 
 you with him is a most reprehensible instance of 
 selfishness — he merely wants something to interest 
 him — some one to amuse him — and thinks you 
 may answer both purposes for the next six months. 
 I regret to say, this is not the first time he has 
 acted in a similar manner !' 
 
 Leonora did not quite comprehend what the 
 ' similar manner ' meant. She believed Lord 
 Medway to be her only sincere friend, and was 
 not disposed to resign him without a struggle. 
 She could not understand why he should not be 
 made acquainted with her removal to her uncle's 
 if the plan were so very desirable for all parties. 
 A wish for further information made her ask to 
 see her uncle's letter, and Lady Medway, evidently 
 prepared for the request, drew it from her pocket, 
 placed it in Leonora's hands, and walked towards 
 the tea-table where her daughters were seated, the 
 two eldest speaking to each other in a low, indis- 
 tinct manner, the youngest listening anxiously and 
 
AN ENGLISH HOME. 73 
 
 following with her eyes all her mother's move- 
 ments. 
 
 ' There is some mistake,' said Leonora, hastily, 
 advancing a few steps, ' this letter begins '^ Sir," ' 
 
 ' It is addressed to Charles,' answered her lady- 
 ship, without turning round, ' it was he who un- 
 dertook and carried on the correspondence.' 
 
 ' So,' thought Leonora, ' there has been a cor- 
 respondence, and my uncle was perhaps unwilling 
 to receive me !' 
 
 Yet there was nothing in the letter to confirm 
 this idea. It informed Mr. Thorpe, in the very 
 fewest words possible, that a trustworthy person 
 would be sent to The Willows for Miss Nixon, who 
 would not so long have been left there to cause em- 
 barrassment, had either of her uncles been earlier 
 made acquainted with her address. 
 
 ' I think,' said Leonora, after a long and painful 
 pause, * I think as this " trustworthy person " will 
 be here so early to-morrow, I had better go to my 
 room now and commence packing my clothes.' 
 
 ' Oh, no — dear Leonora, no — wait until after 
 tea,' exclaimed the ladies Thorpe together. * Jen- 
 nings will pack everything for you in an hour or 
 two to-morrow morning.' 
 
 ' No, thank you,' said Leonora, in a scarcely 
 audible voice, but walking with an appearance of 
 unusual calmness to the door. A strong effort of 
 the mind will enable most people to control the 
 outward signs of emotion as far as they are ex- 
 pressed by the movements of the body ; to retain 
 
74 AX ' EXEMY ' PROCURES LEOXORA 
 
 the colour of the cheek — to restrain the flashing 
 of the eye and quivering lip — is however not so 
 easy, and Leonora's deadly paleness greatly 
 alarmed Lady Medway. She first advanced a 
 few steps with outstretched hand as if to detain 
 her, and then, as the door closed between them, 
 hastily motioned to Jane to follow. 
 
 Breathless the two young girls stood together at 
 the top of the staircase. 
 
 ' Jane — I — wish to be alone — I cannot — speak 
 — even to you — ^just now,' gasped Leonora. 
 
 Jane's answer was a tearful embrace, from which 
 Leonora released herself somewhat impetuously, 
 and then ran into her room. Her thoughts, as she 
 afterwards impatiently paced up and down the 
 apartment, were for some time quite chaotic : 
 anger, mortification, and disappointment predomi- 
 nated by turns. One moment she^resolved to write 
 to Lord Medway, the next blushed at the mere idea 
 —wished she had expostulated with Lady Medway, 
 then rejoiced she had not done so. Suddenly an 
 undefined terror of the meeting with her uncle took 
 possession of her mind. Had he sent to inquire 
 about her ? or had her place of residence been 
 notified to him with the request that he w^ould 
 relieve the Medway family of an — incumbrance ? 
 She feared the latter ; and what a reception was 
 likely to be given to her under such circumstances ! 
 The thought was dreadful. Overwhelmed by the 
 consideration of her perfect helplessness, she yielded 
 for a few minutes to a violent burst of grief, from 
 
AX ENGLISH HOME. 75 
 
 Avhicli she had not quite recovered when Jane 
 stood at her door praying for admittance. Leonora 
 for a minute or two appeared inclined to be 
 inexorable ; she employed the time, however, in 
 opening her wardrobe, drawing forth various 
 articles of apparel, and throwing them on the 
 sofa and chairs in a manner to, give the room all 
 the uncomfortable appearance that generally accom- 
 panies the preparations for packing. Even after 
 the entrance of her friend she continued her occu- 
 pation with averted head and an expenditure of 
 energy that someway began to impress her com- 
 panion with a feeling of awe and dismay. 
 
 Lady Jane's voice was very tremulous as she 
 observed, ' I hope I shall see Charles, and have an 
 opportunity of telling him how very unkindly he 
 has acted.' 
 
 'I rather think he has only done what Lady 
 Medway desired him,' answered Leonora, con- 
 tinuing her occupation without intermission, 'and 
 I do not blame her, on reflection, for wishing to 
 get rid of me ; but she ought to have consulted me 
 and let me make the application to my uncle 
 myself.' 
 
 ' That is exactly what Grace said just now ; but 
 Charley, it seems, disapproved from the beginning 
 of your being spoken to. He said nothing but 
 your extreme youth could excuse your having 
 come here with JMedway, and that nothing but 
 the strongest and most energetic measures would 
 now insure your going to your uncle ; and if 
 
76 AN * ENEMY ' PROCURES LEOXORA 
 
 given time even to write to Medway, the con- 
 sequences would inevitably be most disagreeable to 
 us all/ 
 
 ' I do not see how,' said Leonora, turning round 
 with a look of astonishment, and standing upright 
 before her companion ; ' for if Lady Medway de- 
 clined to take me with her, there must have been 
 an end of the matter. I could not,' she added, 
 petulantly, ' I could not have gone alone to Italy 
 with your brother, could I ?' 
 
 ' I suppose not,' said Lady Jane. 
 
 'Well, then, had I been able to consult him 
 there is no manner of doubt that he would have 
 mediated between me and my uncle more kindly 
 than Charles seems to have done.' 
 
 ' That is true,' said Lady Jane ; ' but Charles 
 does not choose Medway to mediate, or to know 
 anything about the matter, for he has written to 
 say that he hopes to get him off to Paris to-morrow, 
 and then mamma must write to him and pacify 
 him with promises and plans for next summer.' 
 
 ' What promises and plans ?' asked Leonora. 
 
 ' They said something about proposing to ask 
 you to return to The Willows when we come back 
 to England, but — ' here she hesitated. 
 
 ' But what ?' 
 
 ' Charley says that JMedway's fancy for you will 
 be long over by that time.' 
 
 Leonora could not or would not believe this. 
 She clung to the idea of Lord Medway 's regard as 
 the drowning mariner to the floating wreck, 
 
AX ENGLISH HOME. 77 
 
 thoughtless of the force of the surrounding waves, 
 and hoping against reason. 
 
 Lady Jane continued sorrowfully : 'From the 
 day that I heard of Charles's disapproval of our 
 winter plans I was sure that another arrangement 
 would be made. In his letter to mamma this 
 evening he says that from some conversations he 
 has had with Medway he expects to find him 
 troublesome at Paris, but by dint of ridicule and 
 judicious procrastination he has no doubt that all 
 will be right in a few weeks.' 
 
 ' I cannot understand what all this means,' said 
 Leonora, with a puzzled air ; ' Lady Med way's 
 reasons for not wishing me to reside with her are 
 quite within my comprehension ; but why Charles, 
 who has not yet seen me, should so dislike me is 
 what I never shall be able to make out.' 
 
 ' Or I either,' said Jane ; ' but he says expressly 
 in his last letter that mamma must be firm, and 
 rather spend the winter in England than consent 
 to take you with her to Nice.' 
 
 At that moment a feeling of strong resentment 
 sprang up in Leonora's mind against Charles 
 Thorpe. A positive personal dislike to him for 
 what she considered his officious and unkind inter- 
 ference in her affairs. She pictured him to herself 
 as stern arbiter of her fate, an intriguing, calculating 
 man of the world ; in short, her secret, powerful, and 
 implacable enemy ; and though she wished him no 
 actual evil, the wild desire presented itself that she 
 might in the course of her life have an opportunity 
 
78 AN ' EXEMY ' PROCURES LEOXORA 
 
 of making him feel, if only for a short time, as 
 acute mortification as she had suffered that evening. 
 It was a vague wish, prompted by anger, and 
 without a thought of intervening obstacles ; yet 
 she remembered it years afterwards, when expe- 
 rience had taught her to understand the motives of 
 his conduct, and knowledge of the world and its 
 ways made her judge him rather more leniently. 
 
 * Jane,' she said, slowly, ' all this manoeuvring 
 and writing was most unnecessary. A few rational 
 words from Lady Medway, such as she spoke this 
 evening, would at any time have been sufficient to 
 have induced me to apply to my uncle and leave 
 The Willows voluntarily.' 
 
 'Charles did not choose to have it so,' murmured 
 Jane. 
 
 Leonora shrugged her shoulders, and began, in 
 an absent manner, to collect her books. * I 
 believe, Jane,' she said, at length, looking round 
 her with some dismay at the disorder she had 
 created in the room, ' I believe, after all, it will be 
 better to let Jennings pack up all these things for 
 me to-morrow morning.' 
 
 ' Oh, much better ! and now, dear, you will 
 come down to tea, won't you ? Mamma is so 
 sorry, you can't think !' 
 
 ' I must hope, and not think, for the next 
 twenty-four hours,' said Leonora, making an effort 
 to appear cheerful. ' As to going down stairs, and 
 talking on indifferent subjects, after all that has 
 occurred this evening — that is beyond my power ; 
 
AN ENGLISH HOME. 70 
 
 SO you must say good night for nie : I wish you 
 could say good-bye, also, and that I were now far, 
 far away from The Willows !' 
 
 ' Oh ! Leonora,' cried Jane, vainly endeavouring 
 to restrain her tears, ' I cannot bear to think of 
 your leaving us ! but we shall continue friends for 
 ever, promise me that at least.' 
 
 Leonora warmly gave the assurance required. 
 
 ' And when we go to town,' continued Jane, ' I 
 shall be sure to see you and spend hours with you — 
 and I shall write to you — oh, that puts me in mind 
 — mamma desired me to find out if you intended 
 to write to Medway.' 
 
 ' No,' said Leonora, ' I leave it to you to ex- 
 plain this affair to him, and then — perhaps — he 
 may WTite to me. I wish, with all my heart, I 
 had never come here — but there is no use in think- 
 ing of that now. Good night.' 
 
 The door closed, and Leonora was once more 
 alone, and how confused and unhappy only those 
 can know who have been in their youth homeless, 
 and unceremoniously forwarded from one house to 
 another. For some time a feeling of utter desola- 
 tion, a sensation of even more complete loneliness 
 befel her than when first, an orphan and among 
 strangers, she had written the short formal letters to 
 her uncles, and the long explanatory one to Lord 
 Medway, on whom all her hopes then centered. 
 What w^ould he have been to her had he lived? 
 Would Charles have dared to — but why complain 
 — his successor had proved as willing to befriend 
 
80 AN * ENEMY ' PROCCRES LEONORA 
 
 her as she could have desired ; it was the unex- 
 pected opposition on the part of his brother and 
 mother that now made him unable to do so. And 
 then hope began to whisper that he would not 
 desert her completely, that he would write to her ; 
 perhaps even return to England, if only for the 
 purpose of securing her a pleasanter position in her 
 uncle's house. Had he not said repeatedly that 
 he liked her better than any of his sisters ? — told 
 her never to doubt his interest in all that concerned 
 her ? and assured her that his father's offer of pro- 
 tection should be carried into action by bim in the 
 most surprising and satisfactory manner ? Some 
 doubts of his power to do this just now, were re- 
 luctantly admitted ; but with all the careless con- 
 fidence of youth and inexperience, she dwelt long 
 on the chance of being invited, kindly and willingly 
 invited, to spend the ensuing summer at The Wil- 
 lows. That Lord Medway would still desire it 
 she felt sure, and she took it for granted that by 
 that time she should have sufficiently conciliated 
 both her uncles to satisfy even Lady Medway's 
 scruples. In short, wxre the dreaded interviews 
 with her relations once over, she believed she 
 should, after all, have no very great objection to 
 spend, on any terms, the winter in London — it 
 would be something so novel, so interesting to her ! 
 Opening a guide-book that lay on the table, she 
 spread out the map of London before her and 
 studied it attentively, until she had her finger on 
 Russell-square. It seemed to her just the central 
 
AN ENGLISH HOME. 81 
 
 sort of place for seeing and hearing everything. 
 Yes ; she should see Wesminster Abbey and St. 
 Paul's, the Docks, the Tunnel, the Zoological 
 Gardens, the Tower, and the Museum ! It was so 
 odd that her mother had lived so long in London 
 and had never been to see the Museum ! She 
 could not expect her uncle to go everywhere with 
 her — he was too old, past sixty she believed — but 
 
 his son Arthur here Leonora sighed, and wished 
 
 she were going to her uncle Gilbert, who had a 
 daughter or daughters about her own age — vulgar 
 most probably — but she believed she could like 
 any one now who would receive and treat her 
 kindly. Yet even while this humble thought 
 passed through her mind, appalling visions of cor- 
 pulent, red-faced, loud-voiced uncles, with shopmen- 
 looking sons, rose vividly before her imagination, 
 which, it has been already observed, was of the 
 most fertile description ; and the forms, when they 
 had acquired gigantic proportions, were in their 
 turn chased, phantasmagoria-like, by painfully con- 
 trasting groups of tall, graceful, gentle-mannered 
 Thorpes. Among these, however, Charles at 
 length stood so prominent, that anger effectually put 
 to flight all the intruding phantoms ; her pride was 
 roused, and, starting from her chair, she resolved, 
 whatever her fears for the future might be, to 
 conceal them ; not even to Jane would she breathe 
 a word of complaint, or show a particle of the deej) 
 regret with which she left a family whose habits 
 VOL. I. G 
 
82 AN ' enemy' procures LEONORA A HOME. 
 
 and manners were so congenial to her own ; and 
 her thoughts centered, during the greater part of a 
 sleepless night, in the consideration of how she 
 could now leave The Willows with at least a sem- 
 blance of dignity. 
 
( 83 ) 
 
 CHAPTER YII. 
 
 A CITY UNCLE. 
 
 Leoxora's composure the next morning surprised 
 Lady Medway not a little. The arrangement of 
 her clothes, and the hasty finishing of some trifling 
 fancy-work which she had undertaken for Jane 
 and her sisters, seemed to occupy her so com- 
 pletely, that she appeared quite unconscious of the 
 grave faces around her, or even Jane's tearful 
 eyes, as she followed her from place to place with 
 Azor in her arms ; bestowing on the dog the 
 caresses she no longer ventured to offer Leonora, 
 who seemed to have changed in some strange 
 manner during the night. Yet once more their 
 eyes met with the wonted look of intelligence, and 
 a mutual sympathetic paleness overspread their 
 features as the carriage w^as announced which was 
 to separate them for a time — nominally indefinite, 
 but which both, with anxious forebodings, feared 
 for that reason might prove long. 
 
 Lady Medway desired to see the ' person ' who 
 was to take charge of Miss Nixon ; and as Leonora 
 left the room, to prepare for her journey, she 
 stopped for a few minutes in the hall to look at the 
 
84 A CITY UNCLE. 
 
 monstrous yellow carriage sent by her uncle, and 
 the strange figure that descended from it. She 
 had been closely followed by Jane ; and, under 
 almost any other circumstances, laughter would 
 have been irrepressible on their parts ; but all 
 inclination to gaiety was subdued by grief, and 
 merely an expression of wonder pervaded the 
 countenances of the young girls, as their eyes fol- 
 lowed the thin form of the elderly woman, who 
 tripped rather than walked across the hall. A 
 glimpse of her face had shown them a pair of 
 prominent, restless, dark eyes, a nose of large yet 
 sharp proportions, slightly inclining to the left, and 
 partaking amply of the dappled colours that flushed 
 her cheeks, and all surrounded by a cap of innu- 
 merable lace frills, pressed down upon her forehead 
 by a bonnet of amazing proportions, and in form 
 resembling a coal-scuttle — the date of fabrication 
 was beyond the recollection of either Leonora or 
 Jane ; and the extreme freshness of the materials 
 for a moment staggered their judgment, and made 
 them fear it was some terrible importation from 
 beyond the Channel, which they and every one 
 must, in the course of time, copy and adopt. It 
 was a relief to their minds when the removal of a 
 muffling cloak disclosed a black silk dress, fresh as 
 the bonnet, but which, even to their youthful eyes, 
 betrayed its age in those unmistakeable cyphers — 
 the sleeves. Old as was that gown, the folds fi*om 
 the shop might still be distinctly traced in its thick 
 rusthng plaits : it was a curious fact, the cause of 
 
A CITY UNCLE. 85 
 
 which was made but too evident to Leonora at a 
 later period. 
 
 While her bags and boxes were being placed in 
 and outside the carriage, she put on her bonnet ; 
 and on returning to the hall was met by Lady 
 Medway, who, with a slightly-flushed face, turned 
 to her and said, ' I hoped you would have been 
 able to remain until after luncheon, but this — a — 
 person — says that she has received directions to 
 avoid all delay here, and is to stop at the Toy in 
 Hampton Court to rest the horses. I suppose 
 your uncle's orders must be obeyed, dear girl.' 
 
 ' Oh, of course !' answered Leonora, breathing 
 quickly, as they all advanced to take leave of her. 
 
 Jane, in an agony of grief, laid Azor in her 
 arms, and with difficulty articulated, ' Keep him 
 for my sake.' 
 
 The gift was already accepted with eager grati- 
 tude, when the * person ' interfered, observing that 
 * Mr. Nixon could not abide dogs, wich certainly 
 were 'orrid hanimals in a town 'ouse.' 
 
 Leonora reluctantly resigned the proffered trea- 
 sure, and Azor displayed considerable enjoyment 
 at recovering the liberty of which he had been 
 deprived for so long a time in order to be ready 
 when required for the meditated sacrifice to friend- 
 ship. 
 
 Turning hastily away, Leonora entered the 
 carriage ; and then, leaning back in a corner, 
 remained silent and motionless, until, on arriving 
 at Hampton Court^ her companion proposed having 
 
86 A CITY UNCLE. 
 
 luncheon and walking in the palace garden. Leonora 
 declined both, and was left unceremoniously enough 
 to sit alone with her luggage, her feet on the 
 opposite seat, her head bent on her clasped hands. 
 How long she thus remained she had not the 
 least idea ; for, in complete oblivion of all around 
 her, she had lived over again in thought the last 
 two months of her life, recalling, with an accuracy 
 sharpened by regret, all she had seen^ and heard, 
 and felt during that time. Pleasant were the 
 recollections of the various afternoon tea-parties 
 beneath the willows with Jane and her brother ; 
 interesting the drives with Lady Medway in the 
 neighbourhood, where people and scenery were 
 equally strange and new to her. A certain small 
 dog cemetery at one place they had visited rose 
 distinctly before her ; for among the graves of pet 
 pugs and poodles she and Lord Medway had 
 spoken of the contrast between German and English 
 churchyards — the pious remembrance of lost friends 
 displayed in the carefully-cultivated graves of one 
 country, the apparent forgetful ness, in the neglect 
 of them, so common in the other. Her description 
 of a foreign village churchyard he had called 
 poetical prose, while she had obstinately refused to 
 believe his perhaps exaggerated account of some 
 London burial-places. Then there had been quiet 
 boating-parties to neighbouring villas, whence 
 friends of the Medways came for them in their 
 own wherries : expert and handsome boatmen, who 
 had all been, as Leonora ingenuously expressed it. 
 
A CITY UNCLE. 87 
 
 ^ extremely kind to her.' She was in the midst of 
 an excursion to Claremont, then untenanted by 
 royalty, was in imagination standing before the 
 picture of the Princess Charlotte in the dining- 
 room, the white satin, well-fitting shoes again 
 provokingly attracting her attention, when — the 
 horses were led out to be put to, the carriage-door 
 was opened, and her travelling companion entered, 
 apparently greatly refreshed by her luncheon. 
 She carried in her hand a paper bag, filled with 
 tempting-looking biscuits, which Leonora, who had 
 breakfasted very slightly, found it impossible to 
 refuse, and they formed the commencement of a 
 conversation, that gradually, from a description of 
 the excellent mutton-chops to be had at Hampton 
 Court, led to an enumeration of the things most 
 suitable for luncheons •, dinners followed, and market 
 prices, until Leonora had no longer a shadow of 
 doubt that she was enjoying the society of her 
 uncle's housekeeper, or cook, or both united in the 
 person of Mrs. Ducker, which she now learned was 
 the name of her companion. 
 
 Indeed, Mrs. Ducker, who probably saw no 
 reason for either concealment or silence on the 
 present occasion, informed her soon afterwards, at 
 some length, that she had risen to her present high 
 position in Mr. Nixon's family from having been 
 nurse to his only son, Arthur (so named after the 
 Duke of Wellington, who, however, she beheved, 
 was not his real godfather). Arthur she loved as 
 if he were her own child ; she might say, indeed, 
 
88 A CITY UNCLE. 
 
 that she had been a mother to him since Mrs. 
 Nixon's death ; and he never forgot her — never 
 came home from foreign parts without bringing 
 her a handsome silk dress. The bonnet she then 
 wore was from Paris, given to her by him, and was 
 so well made that it was quite as good as new 
 after years' and years' wearing : but then, to be 
 sure, she took remarkably great care of her clothes. 
 Here an admonitory glance was darted at the 
 unconscious Leonora, who, while crunching her 
 biscuits, was carelessly lounging in the corner, and 
 allowing her crape bonnet and its light decorations 
 to rub against the side of the carriage. 
 
 ' I wonder my uncle did not marry again,' 
 observed Leonora, on whom the history of the 
 bonnet had made but little impression. 
 
 ' Why should he ?' asked Mrs. Ducker, rather 
 tartly. ' I was there to take charge of the 'ousekeep- 
 ing. Our Arthur had gone to school, the little girl 
 died of the measles, and Missus was after all but a 
 poor thing, always unealthy, and the doctor never 
 out of the 'ouse as long as she lived. Master had 
 no fancy to take another wife — never thought of 
 such a thing, Fm sure !' 
 
 ' He is very old now, is he not ?' asked Leonora. 
 
 ' Between sixty and seventy,' answered her com- 
 panion, thoughtfully ; ' they said he was past thirty 
 when Arthur was born.' 
 
 ' So Arthur is also quite old !' exclaimed Leo- 
 nora, with a look of disappointment. 
 
 * A man is young at thirty. Miss Leonora, and 
 
A CITY UNCLE. 89 
 
 your cousin is young and 'andsome too, though he 
 'as red 'air hke his mother.' 
 
 ' Red hair ! oh, now I am sure I shall never be 
 able even to tolerate him,' cried Leonora, with a 
 light laugh. 
 
 ' You're not likely to see much of him, I suspect,' 
 rejoined Mrs. Ducker, with flashing eyes *, ' he can 
 have his choice of company, I can tell you, and 
 will not be in any hurry to leave Rome, or his 
 friends Yiscount Torpid and the Marquis of 
 Witherington !' 
 
 This was said almost triumphantly, and in the 
 manner of a person who plays down a well reserved 
 trump at cards. Leonora, however, had known 
 too many viscounts and marquises, and was still 
 too little English in her ideas, to attach the 
 expected importance to such titles. Indeed, the 
 chances and changes of foreign life enabled her to 
 number some dukes and princes among her acquaint- 
 ance *, she was, therefore, neither astonished as 
 her companion intended, nor at all interested in 
 the given information — it merely sent her thoughts, 
 with the swiftness of lightning, to Italy ; and, as 
 answer to the pompous announcement, she ob- 
 served with a smile, ' I liked every thing at Rome 
 excepting — the fleas.' 
 
 ' So ! you have been there too !' cried Mrs. 
 Ducker, with a look of surprise ; and then piqued, 
 and, provoked perhaps, by Leonora's silent nod and 
 mouth full of biscuit, she added, ' It ivill be a change 
 for you, going to school this Michaelmas Term !' 
 
90 A CITY UNCLE. 
 
 * To school !' repeated Leonora, amazed, and 
 instantly sitting up as erect as her companion could 
 have desired. 
 
 ' Yes ; to the same where Miss Georgina 'as been 
 so well heducated. Oh, you may think yourself 
 very well hofF, for there's a carriage for the young 
 ladies to go a hairing in and to the riding-school, 
 and a Yrench fern de sham, and they learn to make 
 curtseys, and receive visitors, and are only a 
 limited number, and the daughters of people of 
 fortune and family !' 
 
 'Georgina is my uncle Gilbert's daughter?' said 
 Leonora, half interrogatively. 
 
 ' Who else could I mean ?' asked Mrs. Ducker, 
 'but she's Miss N-ixon, by right, since our little 
 girl died ; and most uncommon haccomplished she 
 is they say — plays long variations on the pianer, 
 and sings hopera songs, and draws 'eads in chalk ; 
 but of course you can do all this too !' 
 
 ' No,' answered Leonora, ' I am not at all 
 accomplished ;' and, to say the truth, she had no 
 particular wish to become so at that moment, if, 
 for the purpose, she must again go to school. Had 
 Mrs. Ducker expressed herself properly, and said 
 that, ' A lady would receive her into her circle,' or 
 that, ' A vacancy having occurred in a select ladies' 
 establishment, &c.,' the plan might have appeared 
 less revolting ; but to be sent to school when she 
 considered her education finished, was a stroke of 
 fate for which she was not prepared ; and though 
 her companion began, in consequence of her con- 
 
A CITY UNCLE. 01 
 
 fession, loudly to applaud Mr. Nixon's iiitoiitiou, 
 she paid no sort of attention, merely ejaculating 
 during the first pause, as if in continuation of her 
 thoughts, ' Why could he not let me live with 
 him ?' 
 
 ' And what,' demanded Mrs. Ducker, ' what 
 could a gentleman, at his advanced time of life, do 
 with a young person such as you are ?' 
 
 ^Do with a young person, such as I am? — •' 
 repeated Leonora, thoughtfully, 'just what Lady 
 Medway said — no one knows what to do with 
 me.' 
 
 'Of course not,' said Mrs. Ducker, her face 
 flushing vividly ; ' Why you couldn't make yourself 
 useful — and fill my place, and undertake the 'ouse- 
 keeping, could you?' 
 
 Leonora's natural powers of observation had 
 been strengthened by practice. She instantly per- 
 ceived that Mrs. Ducker dreaded finding in her a 
 rival,- and was ill-disposed towards her in conse- 
 quence. She hastened, therefore, to remove all 
 such suspicions from her mind, by some very 
 truthful confessions of both uselessness and inex- 
 perience on her part, which were received with 
 amusing satisfaction ; a very perceptible softening 
 of manner taking place after she had murmured, 
 ' Oh, I thought, perhaps, as you wasn't accom- 
 plished — ' 
 
 ' I ought to be useful — * interposed Leonora, 
 with a smile. ' I have led too w^andering a life, and 
 my acquirements are merely in foreign languages 
 
92 A CITY rNCLE. 
 
 and literature, not, I much fear, in any way likely 
 to recommend me to my uncle.' 
 
 'Well, I don't think he has any partikler 
 hobjections to forring heducation ; but Mr. Gilbert 
 'as, and couldn't at all be persuaded to let you be 
 sent to him, wich master would of course have 
 preferred.' 
 
 'So,' said Leonora, 'my uncle Gilbert refused 
 to have me 5 everyone rejects or tries to get rid of 
 me.' 
 
 'Perhaps, however,' said Mrs. Ducker, softening 
 as Leonora's insignificance became more and more 
 apparent to her, ' perhaps, after all, you may not 
 be sent to school. Master didn't seem quite 
 decided, and only desired me to send to Mr. 
 Gilbert for the Prospects of Mrs. Howard St. 
 Vincent's establishment. If he doesn't find you 
 troublesome, he'll not mind you at all after the 
 first week or two.' 
 
 This was poor consolation, and Leonora thought 
 long before she again spoke ; when she did so, it 
 was with the wish to conciliate her companion, who, 
 she began to suspect, was a person of importance 
 in her uncle's house. ' I dare say,' she began, with 
 some hesitation, ' or rather I am sure, that having 
 lived so many years with my uncle, you have 
 great influence with him — ' 
 
 'No one has the least, excepting Arthur,' inter- 
 posed Mrs. Ducker. ' I couldn't venture to offer 
 an opinion even about a salad, or lobster-sauce! 
 He orders everything from market himself, and 
 
A CITY UNCLE. 93 
 
 excepting at the greengrocer's, and the fruit shop, 
 I never buy any thing for the 'ouse.' 
 
 This, and some other remarks about her uncle's 
 habits, gave Leonora so much subject for thought, 
 that they were driving through the streets of 
 London long before she again began to look 
 around her. The endless rows of shops, the 
 crowds of busy pedestrians, the carriages, carts, 
 and omnibuses, seemed to multiply as they ad- 
 vanced, and became at last so confusing, that she 
 felt a sort of relief as they turned at length into a 
 succession of quieter streets, and she was informed 
 that they were drawing near home. She looked 
 out eagerly, and saw soon afterwards a space of 
 ground neatly enclosed by iron railings ; within 
 which were a few dark-looking trees and shrubs, 
 some dried-up dusty grass, and a weedless gravel- 
 walk, whereon several nurses and children were 
 sauntering sorrowfully, like prisoners taking exer- 
 cise. The high surrounding houses appeared to 
 Leonora perfectly alike ; and so they were, in fact, 
 the only difference being in the number of windows 
 in front. They stopped, and while a loud knock 
 announced their arrival, Leonora looked upwards, 
 perfectly unconscious what sort of rooms were 
 lighted by the rows of bright-paned carefully- 
 blinded windows above her. Not so the English 
 reader, for so great is the uniformity of British town 
 architecture, that it will suffice to say, the house of 
 Mr. Nixon was one of the largest sized, three-win- 
 dowed, long-balconied, description; and immediately 
 
94 A CITY U]^CLE. 
 
 the edifice stands erected with its discoloured bricks, 
 and plate-glass windows outside, — its dining-room, 
 drawing-rooms, bed-rooms, and attics, within. 
 
 Mrs. Ducker commenced gathering together the 
 stray parcels, and then said, ' Miss Nixon — please 
 — will you step out — ' 
 
 Leonora did as she was desired, — ascended the 
 stone steps to the door, and entered the hall. It 
 was large and lofty, and at the end of the first flight 
 of stairs she perceived a stained glass window of a 
 brilliant kaleidescope pal;tern, calculated effectually 
 to shut out the view of stables and the backs of 
 other houses, and perfectly harmonising with the 
 yellow and red striped stair-carpet. A remarkably 
 portly butler, with a white waistcoat and red face, 
 was at first so occupied with Mrs. Ducker, and 
 giving directions to a youthful footman about the 
 proper places for Leonora's luggage, that she her- 
 self appeared to be completely forgotten after having 
 received from him a stiff obeisance on entering ; 
 but when she opened a door near the foot of the 
 staircase, and looked into a perfectly dark room, he 
 advanced, saying, ' That is the dining-room, Miss 
 Nixon — will you not walk into Mr. Nixon's study, 
 where there is a fire ?' 
 
 He preceded her, while speaking, into the large, 
 handsomely furnished front parlour, drew up the 
 window blinds, moved a chair towards the fire- 
 place, and informing her that Mr. Nixon would 
 be home in about an hour, left her to examine at 
 her leisure the furniture of a room which was so 
 
A CITY UNCLE. 95 
 
 different from what she had expected, that she 
 found it necessary to call upon her imagination 
 for a new portrait of her uncle. Handsomely 
 bound books in glass cases completely covered 
 the walls, a round table was heaped with new 
 works, pamphlets, magazines, reviews, and news- 
 papers. There was a writing-table of large di- 
 mensions, and near one of the windows, globes 
 and a telescope on pedestals. About a dozen 
 luxuriously comfortable arm-chairs and a chaise 
 loiigue were covered with green morocco leather 
 to match the colour of the curtains and carpet ; the 
 chimney-piece was loaded with handsome orna- 
 ments, and, in the midst of them, a clock of 
 singularly beautiful workmanship. Leonora had 
 ample time for observation, and used it while there 
 was light sufficient to discern the objects around 
 her. As the evening drew to a close, she walked 
 towards one of the windows and looked at the 
 square and the surrounding houses, and watched 
 the various groups of people who resided in the 
 neighbourhood returning to their homes. Candles 
 glimmered red and rayless in the opposite houses, 
 lamp-lighters began to hurry to and fro, and when, 
 at length, a broad gleam of light fell on the window 
 where she stood, and the stone steps immediately 
 before her, she saw a man slowly ascend the latter, 
 while deliberately drawing from his pocket a key, 
 which he applied to the hall-door. A moment 
 after she knew that only a few steps separated her 
 from her much-dreaded uncle. 
 
96 A CITY UXCLE. 
 
 During the hour she had just spent alone, the 
 silence in the house had been unbroken, but now 
 the opening and shutting of doors not far distant 
 from her became audible, and soon afterwards the 
 study-door was opened, and she turned round, with 
 a beating heart, to meet — Mrs. Ducker, who came 
 to inform her that Mr. Nixon having gone to dress 
 for dinner, she supposed it was time for Miss Nixon 
 to do the same, and she had come to show her to 
 her room. Leonora followed her into the gas-lit 
 hall, and up four long flights of stairs, in silence ; 
 then Mrs. Ducker pointed to the door of the back 
 bed-room, and whispered 'Master's room,' where- 
 upon Leonora turned to the other doors, but find- 
 ing them locked, perceived that she was to follow 
 her guide up a narrow, uncarpeted continuation of 
 the staircase, which led to the attics, where she was 
 put in possession of a large, wild-looking room, 
 called the nursery. 
 
 Her toilet was quickly made, and without giving 
 herself time to become frightened again, she rapidly 
 descended the stairs, fervently hoping to reach the 
 study before her uncle. She was disappointed, he 
 was already there, his elbow leaning on the chim- 
 ney-piece, and his tall stiff figure turned towards 
 the door, on which his eyes were fixed with 
 piercing keenness. 
 
 Leonora's previous life had been of a description 
 that was calculated to early form her manners and 
 give her unusual self-possession for her age ; but the 
 gentlemanly appearance of the erect old man before 
 
A CITY UJ^CLE. 97 
 
 her, with his well-formed expressive features, full 
 Hps, high forehead, prolonged hy baldness, and 
 snow-white curling hair, was so unlike the ' City ' 
 uncle of her dread and dreams, that she stopped 
 blushing and uncertain how to approach him. After 
 a long and painfully scrutinizing glance, he slowly 
 extended his hand towards her, and, as she had 
 expected, his first words were a reproach. 
 
 ' It would have been better,' — he began, coldly 
 and severely, — * it would have been better, and in- 
 finitely more decorous, had you applied to me or 
 your uncle Gilbert for advice and assistance after 
 your father's death, instead of forcing yourself upon 
 the notice, and seeking the protection, of a young 
 and unmarried man like Lord Medway.' 
 
 Leonora was so shocked at this view of her con- 
 duct, that it was with great difficulty she explained 
 the true state of the case, and assured him, she had 
 supposed Lord Med way's father still alive when 
 she came to England, and that he having been in 
 constant correspondence with her mother, had, by 
 letter, offered to protect and assist her should she 
 ever be in want of a friend. 
 
 ' When you found out the mistake,' said her 
 uncle, calmly, ' there was still time to remedy it ; 
 but I have reason to know that you purposely 
 kept Lord Medway in ignorance of our being in 
 existence.' 
 
 'So,' thought Leonora, 'Charles Thorpe's cor- 
 respondence has been of a nature to create a strong 
 
 yoL. I. H 
 
98 A CITY UNCLE.. 
 
 prejudice against me — that was unnecessary cruelty 
 on his part.' Mr. Nixon pausing, with provoking 
 patience, for an answer, she stammered a few words 
 about the letters in her father's writing-desk having 
 made her unwilling to apply to either of her 
 uncles. 
 
 ' A plausible defence, ' said Mr. Nixon, his 
 features relaxing a little ; * but,' he added, slowly, 
 * the letters in question related altogether to pecu- 
 niary affairs, and in no way concerned you.' 
 
 ' I could not be sure that you would not visit the 
 failings of the father on the child, ' answered 
 Leonora, beginning to recover from her embarrass- 
 ment, ' and besides, after all, the Thorpes are also 
 relations of mine, and — ' 
 
 ' They are very distant ones,' interposed Mr. 
 Nixon, 'but you would, no doubt, have preferred 
 a residence with them, had they been disposed to 
 keep you.' 
 
 ' They told me I was a second cousin,' began 
 Leonora, her eyes filling with tears, ' and I was 
 very happy at The Willows, for they were very 
 kind to me, and I found a companion of my own 
 age.' I 
 
 * You would have found the same in your uncle 
 Gilbert's family,' rejoined her uncle, drily; 'how- 
 ever,' he added, while ringing the bell twice in an 
 expressive sort of way, that probably conveyed 
 some order to the regions below stairs, ' however, 
 on this disagreeable subject I shall, in consideration 
 of your youth, now only observe that you have 
 
.A CITY UNCLE. 99 
 
 acted foolishly, perhaps I should say childishly, did 
 not the Thorpes view the matter in another and 
 more serious light : of that, and of them, we need 
 speak no more, for you will scarcely seek or desire 
 further intercourse with a family who, in order to 
 get rid of you, have shown so little consideration 
 for either your feelings or wishes.' 
 
 Leonora blushed deeply, and he continued — 
 
 * I have been considering how best to dispose of 
 you ; my first idea was to send you to a Mrs. 
 Howard St. Vincent, with whom your cousin 
 Georgina will probably remain another year for 
 the completion of her education ; it has since 
 occurred to me, that the advantages you have 
 probably had abroad will make this unnecessary. 
 You are old enough to judge for yourself; the 
 establishment, as they call it, is very expensive, so 
 if you prefer remaining here with me — ' 
 
 ' Oh I should greatly prefer it,' cried Leonora, 
 hastily. 
 
 'Then you may do so. I require and expect 
 nothing from you, excepting that you will be 
 punctual in your hours, and not interfere with 
 habits of regularity which have become necessary 
 to my health and comfort.' 
 
 Leonora was about to answer, when dinner was 
 announced, and her uncle, with polite formality, 
 offered his arm, and conducted her into the 
 adjoining room. It was an enormously large 
 apartment, containing massively carved mahogany 
 sideboards, tables that might be drawn out to an 
 
100 A CITY UNCLE. 
 
 astonishing length, carpet and curtains of a rich 
 crimson colour^ chairs to match, and even the walls 
 were covered with paper of the same warm tint, on 
 which the gorgeously gilt frames of some family 
 pictures shone resplendent. Over the fire-place 
 hung the portrait of Mr. Nixon's father, a hand- 
 some, healthy-looking man, in a buff waistcoat, with 
 a bunch of ponderous seals pending over his portly 
 paunch. On the long wall opposite were hung 
 Mr. Nixon's own portrait, taken some thirty or 
 forty years previously, when he had, evidently, 
 dressed very carefully for the occasion ; that of his 
 wife, a sickly-looking woman, with short frizzled 
 curls of red hair ; and also that of his son, likewise 
 red-haired and not handsome — yet so full of life, 
 and so eminently well painted, was tliis picture, that 
 Leonora was instantly attracted by it, and her 
 uncle, with a wave of his hand, and the words, 
 ' Your cousin Arthur,' introduced her to it, much 
 as if it had been a living person. 
 
 ' Painted at Rome, by a very eminent German 
 artist,' he added, seating himself at the dinner- 
 table ; after which words the most profound silence 
 reigned, rendering audible the eager snorting sound 
 that accompanied Mr. Nixon's hasty devouring of 
 the viands before him, and which proved to 
 Leonora that her uncle's gastronomic propensities 
 greatly resembled those of her late father. Either 
 the previous conversation, or the bag of biscuits, 
 had so effectually deprived her of all appetite, that 
 she had time to examine and study tbe appearance 
 
A CITY UNCLE. 101 
 
 of her now perfectly unobservant relation. She 
 saw, with more dissatisfaction than surprise, the pale 
 face flush with avidity, the veins near the temples 
 swell, and at length, as he bent over a plate full of 
 curry, large drops of perspiration trickling down 
 his white intellectual forehead ! While seeking his 
 handkerchief to remove them, he perceived Leo- 
 nora's eyes fixed gravely on him, with an expression 
 that he mistook for astonishment, and probably 
 intended to reply to her thoughts, when he said, ^ If 
 you had worked hard as I have done since ten 
 o'clock this morning, and had had no luncheon, you 
 would, perhaps, be quite as hungry as I am.' 
 
 Leonora turned away, and pretended to eat. 
 
 ' You don't like curry/ said her uncle, after 
 having, in his turn, observed her for a short 
 time. 
 
 ' It burns my mouth,' she answered, * worse, 
 even, than English mustard.' 
 
 'You will soon learn to like it,' said Mr. Nixon, 
 amused at her wry faces and glistening eyes, ' very 
 soon — it is a taste that must be acquired, but like 
 all such, when acquired, is frequently stronger than 
 what we feel for simple natural food.' 
 
 Leonora shook her head incredulously. 
 
 'You do not understand me,' he continued, 
 helping himself again copiously, and eating quickly 
 while speaking slowly. ' What I mean is, one 
 never hears — of habitual excess — in the gratification, 
 of — of the inclinations towards — bread, milk, 
 water — or even wholesomely cooked meat, but 
 
102 A CITY UXCLE. 
 
 often, very often, in the acquired taste for brandy, 
 tobacco, wine, opium, and so forth — ' 
 
 * But I should think all these tastes better 
 avoided than acquired,' observed Leonora. 
 
 ' That I shall not attempt to deny,' he answered, 
 glancing quickly from his plate towards her, with 
 a look of keen intelligence ; ' but my pleasures in 
 this world are very limited, and their variety 
 consists almost exclusively in a change of dishes on 
 this table, and of books on the one in the next room. 
 Both acquired tastes, for which my relish is, I 
 confess, at times more intense than it ought to be.' 
 
 Leonora attempted no answer, but watched with 
 some interest the, to her, novel operation of re- 
 moving the table-cloth, admired the highly polished 
 wood beneath ; and when the desert was arranged, 
 following a sign from her uncle, she rose and took 
 the chair placed for her at the side of the fire-place, 
 opposite him. 
 
 When they were alone, he asked her a few ques- 
 tions about her former mode of life and places 
 of residence ; told her, in a parenthe^s, not to put 
 more powdered sugar on her plate than she could 
 eat with her orange ; sipped unremittingly glass 
 after glass of the wine placed close beside him 
 by his attentive butler ; and when the contents 
 of the crystal jug began to wax low, he stretched 
 out his feet to the adjacent fender, sought and 
 found a comfortable resting-place for his head on the 
 well-stuffed back of his large arm chair, and from a 
 doze imperceptibly fell into a profound sleep. 
 
A CITY UNCLE. 103 
 
 Leonora's position was so new to her, that she 
 did not know whether to leave the room or remain 
 in it ; but having at length decided on the latter, 
 she leaned her head on her hand, gazed pensively 
 at the glowing coal-fire, and recalled the events of 
 the previous evening at The Willows with painful 
 minuteness. Stealthily she drew from her pocket 
 the letter she had then received from Lord 
 Medway, and having read it carefully over, tried 
 to convince herself that she should hear from him 
 again and soon. Yet, while she mused, it seemed 
 as if all around began to assume an appearance 
 of home: already she felt that she was not, as at 
 * The Willows, a mere passing visitor in her uncle's 
 house ; he had offered, and she had tacitly accepted 
 his protection. She looked along the walls of the 
 room, and the portraits, warmed by the light of 
 lamp and fire, appeared to return her glance with 
 the freedom of long acquaintance^ her cousin 
 Arthur's fiery brown eyes seeming to ask her 
 opinion of the vase on W'hich his hand rested, the 
 form of which was far more familiar than that 
 of any of the fruit dishes on the table beside her. 
 
 At the end of about an hour, her uncle awoke, 
 expressed some surprise at finding her still in the 
 room, rang the bell, and opened the folding door 
 into the study. There they found the preparations 
 for tea, which Mr. Nixon made and poured out 
 himself, retiring wdth his cup to a seat near the fire- 
 place, and taking up a book, in w^hich he read w^ith- 
 out intermission until bed-time. Leonora had 
 
104 A CITY U^TCLE. 
 
 silently followed his example, which seemed to 
 please him, for as they separated for the night, he 
 observed, that he was glad to perceive she liked 
 reading, and, after a pause, added, ' You will find 
 the key of the bookcases on my writing-table, and 
 near the window there is a collection of foreign 
 works, v/hich belong to my son. Though / cannot 
 read them you of course can. They are well chosen 
 I am sure — in fact, the names of all the authors are 
 familiar to me, and I have read translations of most 
 of them. We breakfast at nine o'clock, pre — cisely. 
 Good night.' 
 
 ' Good night,' said Leonora, turning into the 
 hall while he remained to extinguish the lamp and 
 rake up the embers still glowing in the grate. 
 
105 ) 
 
 CHAPTEE VIII. 
 
 HOW leoxora's name came to be shortened. 
 
 Accustomed to early rising, Leonora was dressed 
 the next morning before seven o'clock, and was 
 considerably puzzled how to employ her time for 
 the ensuing two hours before breakfast. Half that 
 time sufficed for the unpacking and arrangement of 
 her wardrobe, and then, having placed her little 
 writing-desk on a table ready for use should she 
 hear from the Medway family during the day, she 
 went to the window, counted the houses of the square 
 and their windows, speculated dreamily on the 
 families in the neighbourhood with whom she was 
 likely to become acquainted, and at length sauntered 
 to^vards the staircase, intending to inspect the 
 drawing-rooms, which, from the appearance of the 
 lobby, and the lofty doors, she concluded, must be 
 unusually splendid. She found the doors locked, 
 and while deliberating about the propriety or 
 necessity of returning to her own room, she con- 
 tinued to descend the stairs, her lingering irreso- 
 lute steps bringing her at last to the door of the 
 study. She entered and advanced to the glass 
 cases, to examine the books that had so strongly 
 attracted her attention the day before. The door 
 
106 HOW Leonora's name 
 
 into the dining-room was ajar, and she started 
 slightly on perceiving her uncle already seated at 
 the breakfast table reading a newspaper, his spec- 
 tacles poised on the end of his nose, and his chin 
 slightly raised as if to keep them there : glancing 
 over them he made some guttural sound as answer 
 to Leonora's morning greeting, and then continued 
 his occupation until the clock struck nine. As he 
 deposited ' The Times ' on the table the door 
 opened, and every requisite for a substantial break- 
 fast was noiselessly placed within his reach — a 
 large tea caddy, as on the previous evening, being 
 rolled towards him, out of which he not only took 
 the necessary quantity of tea, but also a massive 
 silver sugar basin. He did not himself invite 
 Leonora to join him, but made some sign to the 
 servant to do so ; and when she seated herself at the 
 table, after having pushed towards her a cup of tea, 
 he helped himself to each thing before forwarding 
 it to her, as if at once and for all to show that he had 
 no intention of playing politeness with so young a 
 person and so near a relation. Leonora made a 
 few attempts at conversation, which seemed to sur- 
 prise him amazingly, but they proved completely 
 abortive, his answers — with a mouth full of egg and 
 buttered toast, or voice half smothered in a tea 
 cup of immense proportions — being perfectly unin- 
 telligible. 
 
 At length he rose, received from the servant, who 
 was waiting in the hall, his paletot, gloves, hat, and 
 walking-stick, while looming in the distance stood 
 
CAME TO BE SHORTENED. 107 
 
 Mrs. Ducker to receive his orders for dinner. His 
 conference with her lasted some time, and seemed 
 to interest him deeply ; the moment it was ended he 
 left the house, and Leonora did not see him again 
 until he was dressed for dinner. 
 
 These particulars are not interesting, and would 
 not have been forced upon the notice of the reader, 
 had it not been necessary to give an idea of the 
 tenor of Leonora's life for a longer — much longer — 
 period than she had expected. So completely did 
 one day resemble the other in Mr. Nixon's house, 
 that it merely remains to name Sunday as- an 
 exception, scarcely however worth mentioning. On 
 that day Mr. Nixon did not go to his office, and did 
 go to church accompanied by Leonora, having 
 procured for her a place next his own in a part of 
 the building where the light was not too strong for 
 his eyes, or, as Leonora soon shrewdly suspected, 
 where he could occasionally close them unremarked 
 by other members of the congregation. When the 
 service was over, she w^as consigned to the care of 
 Mrs. Ducker, while he went to take a walk at the 
 'West End,' from which, however, he returned 
 home at precisely the usual hour — dining, sleep- 
 ing, reading, and going to bed without the slightest 
 further deviation from his wonted habits. 
 
 Leonora did not willingly or even patiently resign 
 herself to this unsociable life, — the change was too 
 great from the freedom and incessant variety to 
 which she had been accustomed. That she had 
 been perfectly happy for a couple of months in the 
 
108 HOYr Leonora's xame 
 
 dignified seclusion of The Willows, with a com- 
 panion of her own age and a young man such as 
 Lord Medway, was quite natural, the more so as, to 
 add a charm to her intercourse with the latter, there 
 had been a sort of consciousness that his friendship 
 had been mixed with a large proportion of personal 
 admiration. Her hopes of hearing from him or 
 his family sustained her for some time, but when 
 weeks passed over without a line even from Jane, 
 an uncontrollable impatience began to prey upon 
 her mind. Like a newly caged bird, she moved 
 about restlessly in her prison, wandered from one 
 window to the other, rushed up and down the stairs, 
 wondered if ever her uncle would have time to take 
 her out to walk, or if she should ever have courage 
 to ask him to show her something of London ! So 
 great was at length her want of a companion, that 
 she even made desperate efforts to obtain the friend- 
 ship of Anne Ducker, descending to the house- 
 keeper's room and offering, nay entreating to be 
 allowed to hem rubbers or mend stockings as an 
 excuse for remaining there. Mrs. Ducker's jealous 
 fears, however, had returned directly she found that 
 the school plan had been set aside, and she repulsed 
 Leonora's offers of usefulness so ungraciously that 
 the poor girl retreated, mortified and offended, to 
 the lonely study, and after yielding for some time 
 to a despondency that deprived her cheek of every 
 trace of colour, and caused an unconquerable 
 lassitude to pervade 'every movement of her 
 drooping form, she at last sought and found in 
 
CAME TO BE SlIORTEXED. 109 
 
 the library, placed by her uncle at her disposal, 
 occupation for her time, and solace for her 
 solitude. 
 
 At first she read slowly, almost listlessly, but 
 the works were all of the best kind, and there were 
 critical journals of every description to guide her 
 choice. She began to discover that she was 
 extremely ignorant, to rejoice in having so much 
 leisure for reading, to like the quiet room with its 
 comfortable ponderous furniture, to be surprised at 
 the quick flight of time, and even wonder if her 
 uncle had not come home too soon >yhen the 
 turning of his now w^ell known Chubb key in the 
 hall door interrupted her studies. It is astonishing 
 what a variety of literary inclinations the careful 
 perusal of reviews and magazines gave her, and 
 what know^ledge of the world — that is the English 
 world — she acquired by reading not only the 
 works of fiction already in her uncle's possession, 
 but each new novel as it appeared. As regularly 
 as the newspapers these works were laid on Mr. 
 Nixon's table, for, like thousands of men in his 
 position in England, he felt the necessity of relax- 
 ation for his mind, and perhaps also a natural 
 longing for some intercourse (though but in fiction) 
 with a world from which, either from choice or 
 necessity, he lived so wholly apart. Leonora was 
 needlessly surprised at the interest which he took 
 in the fate of the various heroes and heroines of 
 these works, for it is not un frequently those who 
 concern themselves the least about the life struggles 
 
110 HOW leoxora's name 
 
 of the persons immediately around them, who sym- 
 pathize most unreservedly in the joys and sorrows of 
 fictitious personages. At all events, novel reading 
 was the usual evening occupation of both uncle and 
 niece, and served effectually to banish the sleepiness 
 which the nocturnal silence in the room and house 
 might have produced. 
 
 Leonora at last succeeded in completely gaining 
 Mrs. Ducker's heart by submitting to a regimen of 
 slops to cure a cold caught during the winter on 
 one of the very few occasions that presented them- 
 selves for. going out : she also discovered why that 
 worthy woman's bonnets and silk dresses retained 
 the lustre of newness, while their forms denoted an 
 unusual age for such articles — they were used but 
 once a week, and then only when the weather was 
 propitious. A walk for pleasure or health was a 
 thing scarcely understood by the members of Mr. 
 Nixon's family, but, indeed, had it been otherwise, 
 Mrs. Ducker would not easily have found leisure 
 for what she unhesitatingly pronounced waste of 
 time. Her activity at home was unceasing, amount- 
 ing almost to restlessness ; she was domineering, 
 addicted to scolding, yet a kind and even warm- 
 hearted woman, perfectly illiterate, yet possessed of 
 both good sense and intelligence. Her jealousy of 
 Leonora once overcome, she scolded and petted her 
 alternately — her ire being generally provoked by 
 Leonora's carelessness about the rents in her 
 clothes, her affection continually increased by the 
 gentleness, growing cheerfulness, and, it must 
 
CAME TO BE SHORTENED. Ill 
 
 be added, beauty of the young girl, whom she 
 began to consider in some degree dependent on her 
 for bodily comforts. Her visits to Leonora in the 
 study, at first 'short and far between,' were in the 
 course of time frequently prolonged by a forcible 
 retention on a chair while the whole story of a new 
 play or poem was related. It is even on record 
 that a strong piece of cord was once used for that 
 purpose, the knots laughingly tied being afterwards 
 found of a Gordian description, and the operation of 
 cutting them still uncompleted, when Mr. Nixon*s 
 step was heard in the hall : Mrs. Ducker, or, as 
 she was then called, ' Duckey,' was obliged to make 
 her escape into the dining-room with the chair still 
 fastened to her person. 
 
 Leonora's efforts to understand her uncle's 
 character were at first not quite successful. The 
 unbroken regularity and seclusion of his life as- 
 tonished her, and his want of all inclination for 
 society, or anything approaching to amusement, was 
 incomprehensible to one accustomed to the sociability 
 and gaiety of foreign life. Winter, spring, and 
 summer passed over without his ever even men- 
 tioning to her the familiar words concert or theatre, 
 and from the papers alone she knew that such 
 entertainments were not uncommon in London. 
 His taciturnity yielded, however, by degrees to 
 her winning ways ; she had a good deal of femi- 
 nine tact, and never put herself in competition with 
 * The Times ' during breakfast, or the entremets 
 at dinner ; but after having breakfasted, he some- 
 
112 HOW Leonora's name 
 
 times voluntarily entered into a short political 
 discussion, or he delayed his sluml)er after dinner 
 to criticise a new book; occasionally, too, he 
 lingered over his tea in the evening for the same 
 purpose, and as time wore on, and intimacy in- 
 creased, he spoke of foreign countries and manners ; 
 and though in both giving the preference to 
 England, his opinions were those of a man who had 
 read and thought, his prejudices the natural conse- 
 quences of want of personal experience. Plis ruling 
 passion was ambition, — he himself would have said 
 love for his only son, of whose long and frequent 
 absences he nevertheless evidently approved. He 
 told Leonoi-a that Arthur was a man of unusual 
 artistical and sesthetical tastes, which were more 
 easily satisfied on the continent than at home ; but 
 he refrained from adding that he could .there also 
 make acquaintances, English and foreign, quite out 
 of his domestic sphere, and that they both con- 
 curred in an ardent desire to rise in the social 
 scale, and hoped to secure this desirable end 
 through the wealth perseveringly increased by the 
 one, and the judicious marriage of the other. 
 
 The first interruption to the quiet monotony of 
 Leonora's life, was a grand dinner given on Christ- 
 mas-day by Mr. Nixon to his brother Gilbert and his 
 family on their return from the country. He in- 
 vited to meet them his commercial partner, William 
 Plumpton, his wife, . sons, and daughters ; and 
 again to meet them, and render the party com- 
 plete, several young men in their mutual employ- 
 
CAME TO BE SHORTENED. 113 
 
 iiient. The preparations for this dinner were of 
 the most extensive description ; the furniture of 
 the drawing-rooms was uncovered, and Leonora 
 examined and admired the carefully preserved 
 chairs, sofas and tables, carpets, lustres, and ala- 
 baster vases, as much as she perceived Mrs. 
 Ducker expected. The glasses over the chimney- 
 pieces were of enormous dimensions, fixtures, as 
 Leonora was informed, and bought with the house, 
 some earl or marquess having had them built 
 into the wall when Kussell-square had been one of 
 the most fashionable parts of London ! 
 
 Leonora felt a good deal of curiosity to see her 
 uncle Gilbert and his family, about whom she had, 
 by degrees, obtained some information from Mrs. 
 Ducker, ^ — her utter ignorance of the names and 
 ages of her cousins appearing to the latter per- 
 fectly incomprehensible. Not without surprise 
 had she learned that there were Gilbert Nixons 
 in both the East and West Indies and Australia, 
 all well-to-do in the world and hkelv to be as rich 
 as their grandfather in the course of time. Of the 
 fourth son, Mr. Sam, who had received the ' hedu- 
 cation of a lord, had been to Hoxford, and was a 
 barrister with chambers,' Mrs. Ducker spoke with 
 respect and reserve, but she d^velt long and feel- 
 ingly on the restlessness and ill-conduct of Master 
 John when ' at 'ome for the 'ollidays.' Miss 
 Georgina was considered very helligunt ; but by 
 far the best of the fambly, in her opinion, had been 
 
 VOL. I. I 
 
114 HOW leoxora's xame 
 
 Miss Leonora, who had died of a heart complaint 
 a few months previously. 
 
 Leonora, ashamed to confess that she had never 
 heard either of the existence or death of this 
 cousin, considered it a sort of expiation to make 
 the most minute inquiries respecting her name- 
 sake, and learned that she had been about her own 
 age, but from childhood so delicate that she had 
 constantly resided at her father's country-house, 
 Beechfield, which was at a convenient railroad 
 distance from London; that even in winter she 
 had been seldom long separated from her family, 
 her father especially regularly passing part of 
 each Saturday and all Sunday with her. Though 
 greatly inferior to her sister Georgina in talents 
 and acquirements she had avowedly been his 
 favourite child, and he had by no means recovered 
 from the grief occasioned by her death when he 
 iirst saw his niece on Christmas-day. Similarity 
 of age and name, perhaps also some personal 
 resemblance between the two Leonoras, seemed to 
 strike him forcibly and painfully ; tears started to 
 his eyes, and, unable to control his emotion, of 
 which, like a true Englishman, he was heartily 
 ashamed, he abruptly left the room, and did not 
 return until just before dinner was announced. 
 
 ' Papa cannot yet bear to hear the name 
 Leonora,' observed Georgina, who had swept 
 into the room and seated herself on one of the 
 sofas with astounding gracefulness, 'but I dare 
 say in time he will learn not to mind it.' 
 
CAME TO BE SIIORTEXED. 115 
 
 ' It may require longer than than you suppose/ 
 said Stephen Nixon, gravely. ' I have not yet been 
 able to pronounce my niece's name without an 
 effort.' 
 
 * Ah ! true — my aunt's name was Leonora/ said 
 Georgina ; ' I had forgotten that she was godmother 
 to our poor dear Leonora.' 
 
 ^ I had also a daughter of that name/ observed 
 Mr. Nixon. 
 
 ' But/ rejoined Georgina, 'she was such a mere 
 child when you lost her !' 
 
 * She lived long' enough,' he answered, slowly, 
 ' to make the name doubly dear and familiar to 
 me.' 
 
 Leonora now recollected that during the three 
 months she had resided with her uncle he had 
 scarcely ever addressed her by her name, that he had 
 even used some ingenuity to avoid doing so, and had 
 peremptorily desired the servants to call her ' Miss 
 Nixon,' when, with the nice perception of rank 
 peculiar to the English, they had shown their know- 
 ledge, that the daughter of the youngest son of 
 Samuel Nixon was in fact only Miss Leonora^ 
 until after the marriage or death of her cousin 
 Georgina. 
 
 * Why do you not call me Nora ?' she now said, 
 turning suddenly to her uncle ; ' I never was called 
 otherwise until I came to England.' 
 
 ' And you never shall be called by any other 
 name in future,' he answered; ' we shall drink your 
 health after dinner to day, and give you agaiii the 
 
116 HOW LEOXOEA*S NAME 
 
 name I have no doubt you like better than any 
 other.' 
 
 Nora, as she was henceforward called, had not 
 time to become much acquainted with her relations 
 during the evening. Her uncle Gilbert appeared 
 to her more goodnatured, but less gentlemanlike, 
 than her uncle Stephen. In fact, good living had 
 made him stout, and prosperity cheerful — at times 
 almost jovial — though ever with a certain pomposity 
 of demeanour, which he imagined equally English 
 and dignified. He had suited himself with a wife 
 early in life, and had often facetiously declared that 
 she had been one of his best speculations. They 
 had lived very happily together, and, after having 
 attained an immense size, she had died from the 
 effects of good living and want of exercise. Time 
 had enabled Gilbert Nixon to get reconciled to 
 this loss, but there was another which he never 
 ceased to regret, and unceasingly and loudly to 
 deplore — the want of a classical education. While 
 his brother, however, had endeavoured to supply 
 this loss by an extensive study of every branch of 
 English literature, Gilbert had never even 
 attempted to read anything but a newspaper, in 
 which, strange to say, the fashionable intelligence 
 was apparently of nearly as much importance to 
 him as the state of the funds. Fortunately this 
 intelligence was not scanty in detail, so that he had 
 frequent opportunities of rejoicing in balls and 
 dinners, given by and for the entertainment of 
 people, with whose names at least he was familiar. 
 
CAME TO BE SHORTENED. 117 
 
 The queen and princes seldom rode or walked out 
 without his being in the same way made acquainted 
 with the minutest particulars ; and, feeling deeply 
 interested in such communications, he invariably 
 spoke of them with a mixture of pride and exulta- 
 tion, the cause of which might perhaps by a cir- 
 cuitous route be traced to the fact that the balls and 
 dinners were given and frequented by his country- 
 men^ the queen was his queen, the princes were his 
 princes ! 
 
 Gilbert Nixon was, according to the English 
 fashion, essentially patriotic, being not only deeply 
 impressed with the invincible power and boundless 
 wealth of England, but perfectly convinced that 
 there never had been, and never would be, a nation 
 in any respect capable of bearing a comparison 
 with her. Personally he was strongly prejudiced 
 against all foreigners, calling the French dirty and 
 the Germans dull, without ever in the course of 
 his life having become acquainted with an indivi- 
 dual of either nation. Nora's continental education 
 he considered a great disadvantage, but was more 
 than half reconciled when a nearer acquaintance 
 made him aware of her still unbounded admiration 
 for everything English. 
 
 Nora found the Christmas dinner tedious and 
 tiresome, and the plumpudding by no means so 
 excellent as she had expected. She was somewhat 
 perplexed, too, how to find amusement for her guests 
 in the drawing-room, and much regretted her cousin 
 Arthur's having removed the pianoforte to the attics, 
 
118 HOW leoxora's xame 
 
 and let it fall to pieces there, merely because the 
 form was old-fashioned, and the more so as Mrs. 
 Plumpton informed her more than once, that both 
 her daughters ' played with extraordinary execution,' 
 and that the Plumpton family were all remarkably 
 musical ! Nora's efforts to please were, however, 
 too sincere to be unsuccessful, and before her 
 uncle came upstairs she and Mrs. Plumpton 
 had made great strides towards a better acquaint- 
 ance, the latter having already hoped to see 
 her soon at her house, and promised to give her 
 an excellent receipt for mock-turtle soup. 
 
 The Misses Plumptons were slim, quiet girls, no 
 longer very young, and Nora had thought them 
 sensible unaffected women until she observed their 
 efforts to attract the attention and flirt with the 
 half-dozen young men who, flushed with wine, 
 hovered round the tea-table at a late hour. Not 
 so Georgina ; she seemed to consider Nora alone 
 worthy of notice, disdained the female Plumptons 
 altogether^ and leaning back in an arm-chair repulsed 
 even the advances of that very fine gentleman * 
 Mr. Percival Plumpton, so that he withdrew in 1 
 disgust from the contemplation of her little saucy 
 turned-up nose, and bestowed his condescending 
 attention on Nora for the remainder of the even- 
 ing. 
 
 In due time an invitation to dine with the 
 Plumptons reached Mr. Nixon, in which Nora was 
 included. The party was of a gayer description 
 than that given by her uncle, for, as Mrs. Plumpton 
 
CAME TO BE SHORTENED. 119 
 
 observed, ' Where there are young girls in a house 
 music and dancing are a matter of course.' Many 
 people came to tea, and the Misses Plunipton com- 
 menced an impromptu concert with what they called 
 ' pieces ' of Thalberg and Herz. They were suc- 
 ceeded by some timid young ladies, who trembled 
 forth the newest and most popular ballads, and then 
 a stout gentleman shouted out the bass of a duet 
 from a well-known opera, but with such utter con- 
 tempt of all the rules of music that when people 
 whispered * Lablache to the life,' Nora innocently 
 supposed his performance a parody, and laughed and 
 nodded her head with the others. During the 
 Av^altz on the carpet that followed, she came to the 
 hasty conclusion that Englishmen considered it be- 
 neath their dignity to learn to dance, and then un- 
 willingly admitted to herself, that as specimens of 
 the first nation in the world, they were wonderfully 
 awkward in their manners. 
 
 Yet this evening often recurred to Nora's memory, 
 as week after week and month after month passed 
 over without another invitation. Her uncle Gilbert 
 spent all his spare time at Beechfield, Georgina had 
 returned to Mrs. Horace St. Vincent's Estabhsh- 
 ment^ Mr. Sam Nixon lived at his chambers, and 
 John had gone back to school. The Plumptons 
 called one day, and said they were going to Margate, 
 which was a delightful place, and from that time 
 forward, excepting to church on Sunday, or to take 
 a solitary saunter in the square, Nora never left the 
 house. 
 
( 120 ) 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 A PRACTICAL LESSOjS^ ON THE FORCE OF HABIT. 
 
 Soon after the commencement of the second year 
 of Nora's residence with her uncle, a transaction 
 took place that seemed likely to change her 
 prospects in a very unexpected manner. Stephen 
 and Gilbert Nixon had joined in some railway 
 speculation that had proved fortunate beyond 
 their most sanguine expectations. Gilbert, who 
 had been manager on the occasion, called by 
 appointment late one afternoon, and brought 
 with him his daughter Georgina, now returned 
 home ' for good,' as he expressed it. 
 
 The two girls retired to one of the windows, 
 where Georgina, putting her hand on Nora's 
 shoulder, hoped they were soon likely to be much 
 together, and become very good friends. 
 
 ' If you can manage to come here occasionally,' 
 began Nora. 
 
 ' No, dear, you must come to us,' said Georgina, 
 interrupting her hastily, ' Russell-square is quite 
 out of the question — Ultima Thule, as one of my 
 friends called it the other day !' 
 
 ' But my uncle has strictly forbidden my going 
 out, excepting to walk in the square,' said Nora, 
 
PRACTICAL LESSON OX THE FORCE OF HABIT. 121 
 
 'or with Anne Ducker, who has so seldom time — 
 scarcely ever in fact !' 
 
 ' Oh, we don't want old Ducker at all,' rejoined 
 Georgina, laughing, ' we only want you — that is, 
 / want you, and hope to be of use to you. Papa 
 has been so lucky with his railway shares, that he 
 has at length yielded to my entreaties, and bought 
 a house in Eaton-place, and given me carte blanche 
 for the furniture ! I have chosen amber-coloured 
 silk for the drawing-rooms, green and gold for the 
 dining-room, and Mrs. Savage Wayward says, 
 if papa will only give dinners, she can introduce us 
 to all the first people in town, and that her friend, 
 Lady Robert Botherton will present us — that is 
 you and me, — at the next Drawing-room ; but you, 
 I suppose, will prefer Lady Medway, as she is a 
 relation.' 
 
 ' Who ?., I ? — Lady Medway !' repeated Nora, 
 ' I — I do not even know where she is at present !' 
 
 ' Surely,' cried Georgina, much astonished, 
 ' surely you must be aware that they are all re- 
 turned from Italy.' 
 
 ' How should I know ?' asked Nora, with a faint 
 smile. 
 
 ' Because it was in the papers a week ago,' 
 answered Georgina. ' Do you never read the 
 fashionable intelligence ?' 
 
 ' Very seldom.' 
 
 'What an odd girl you are! But you will 
 soon think and feel differently about all these 
 things. Wait only until our establishment in 
 
122 A PRACTICAL LESSON 
 
 Eaton-place is in order! I intend to begin very 
 quietly, to prevent people from talking too much 
 about us, or forming a league to laugh at us, also 
 to give papa time to get rid of all his tiresome old- 
 fashioned habits. My brother Sam is a provoking 
 plodder and John still a mere child — both of no 
 sort of use to me, and I have not courage to brave 
 the difficulties of working ray way in the world of 
 fashion quite alone. With you, however, for a 
 companion, and plenty of money, it will be very 
 odd if I cannot contrive, not only to brave, but 
 even to overcome them. You see I am candid, 
 and tell you that I want you. It would un- 
 doubtedly have been more worldly wise, had I 
 pretended perfectly disinterested motives for this 
 offer of a home — such as a wish to save you from 
 a continuance of your present dull life, and a desire 
 to promote your marrying advantageously ; but I 
 take it for granted that though a couple of years 
 younger than I am, you have seen enough of the 
 world to understand me and like me all the 
 better for being plain-spoken.' 
 
 Nora smiled with a look of such perfect intel- 
 ligence that Georgina continued, 
 
 ' There is but one thing likely to interfere with 
 our plans ; I fear — I greatly fear — that my uncle 
 Stephen may take it into his head to object to 
 your leaving him.' 
 
 Nora almost laughed at the idea, and assured 
 her cousin that her uncle Stephen would scarcely 
 observe her absence. 
 
ON THE FORCE OF HABIT. " 123 
 
 ' I am glad to hear it,' said Georgina ; ' papa 
 will speak to him directly about you. I suppose,' 
 she added, abruptly, ' I suppose you will be glad to 
 see the Medways again, and can introduce us to 
 them? You must know them well after having 
 resided in their house so long !' 
 
 ' I hieio them tolerably well,' said Nora with a 
 slight blush, 'but they have never come to see 
 me — never even written to me since I have been 
 here.' 
 
 ' Of course not,' said Georgina, lightly, ' how 
 could you expect such a thing T 
 
 ' I thought Jane at least too young to have any 
 absurd prejudices.' 
 
 ' She must do as her mother desires,' rejoined 
 Georgina ; ' but you will soon see her, as she is to be 
 presented this year, when Lady Grace marries Mr. 
 Cardwell.' 
 
 'Why, you know all about them!' said Nora, 
 surprised. 
 
 ' I saw them yesterday evening at the Opera, 
 where I went with the Savage Way wards. Lord 
 Medway was there too, looking so indolent and ill ; 
 people say it is quite unpardonable his requiring 
 such a length of time to die !' 
 
 'Oh, Georgina^ how can you speak with such 
 levity !' 
 
 'Mr. Wavward's words, not mine,' she answered ; 
 ' but hush,' she added, turning towards her father 
 and uncle, ' they are talking about us now, and I 
 suppose we may listen.' 
 
124 A PRACTICAL LESSON 
 
 A look of intelligence passed between her and 
 Gilbert Nixon as in an off-hand kind of manner, 
 and without any circumlocution, he proposed to 
 relieve his brother of the charge of their niece, 
 Nora, assuring him with evident sincerity ' that he 
 and Georgina had taken a fancy to her; that she 
 should never want for anything, and that without 
 offence he might say they had a gayer and -more 
 eligible residence to offer her than the old house in 
 Russell-square !' 
 
 Mr. Nixon did not listen to this speech unmoved ; 
 the colour forsook his lips, and, perhaps to conceal 
 some feeling so unexpected on his part that he 
 hardly understood it himself, he turned towards 
 the fire-place, bent his head on his hand, and 
 seemed to consider long before he answered slowly, 
 * With you Nora will undoubtedly be happier than 
 here, and I have no right to retain her if she 
 choose to leave me.' 
 
 This answer was pretty much what Nora had 
 expected, but Georgina seemed equally surprised 
 and pleased at an acquiescence so unconditional, 
 when she had prepared herself for downright steady 
 opposition. She thanked him warmly, and asked 
 when Nora might remove to Eaton-place ? 
 
 * When she pleases,' answered Mr. Nixon, 
 stiffly. 
 
 ^ Let us take her with us at once,' suggested 
 Georgina, eagerly. 
 
 To this, however, he objected with strangely 
 flashing eyes, and Gilbert interfering, proposed the 
 
ON THE FORCE OF HABIT. 125 
 
 following clay, to which no objection being made, 
 he added, while shaking his brother s hand, ' To- 
 morrow then let it be. I'm glad to find you so 
 ready to part with the girl, Stephen ; Gigorgy 
 was afraid you might wish to keep, her, and,' he 
 added, turning round at the door, ' and I myself 
 enjoy so much having young people about me, 
 that I thought it very likely you might some way 
 or other have got fond of her, and used to her 
 company and all that sort of thing. Of course, I 
 should not have pressed the matter had this been 
 the case, but Georgy would have been terribly dis- 
 appointed, I can tell you. Good-bye, Stephen ; 
 God bless you. So you won't join me in the 
 shares I intend to purchase to-morrow ?' 
 
 Mr. Nixon shook his head, the door closed, and 
 Nora stood in the middle of the room, stupified at 
 the sudden and perfectly unexpected change in her 
 prospects. ' Youthful companions — a gay house — 
 balls — operas — ^ concerts — a presentation at Court — 
 perhaps she should meet the Medways, and Lady 
 Medway might noiv be kind to her, as she no 
 longer wanted to live with her ! She believed she 
 could pardon Lord Medway 's having forgotten her 
 — but Charles Thorpe, if in England, should be 
 made to feel the whole Aveight of her displeasure. 
 She would not dance with him, or look at him ; 
 and if he asked her to forgive him, she Avould say, 
 " Never /" or — no ; she would laugh, and refuse to 
 listen to his excuses ; or, still better, she w^ould — 
 but there was time enough to think of all that. 
 
126 A PRACTICAL LESSOX 
 
 How different her life would be in Eaton-place to 
 what it had been in Bussell-square ; and yet the 
 quiet study and the well-known books had to a 
 certain degree become dear to her, and even her 
 uncle — ' Here she raised her eyes, and found his 
 fixed on her with an inquiring, penetrating glance. 
 He was standing precisely on the same spot where 
 she had first seen him, somew^hat more than a year 
 before : again he stretched out his hand towards 
 her ; but this time no words of reproach followed. 
 
 'Nora,' he said, calmly, ' my brother was right 
 w^hen he supposed I should '' get fond of you and 
 used to your company:" you do not know with 
 what reluctance I resign you.' 
 
 'You are very kind to say so,' answered Nora, 
 with a slight flush of pleasure ; ' but I cannot 
 flatter myself that you will miss me in the least.' 
 
 ' You are mistaken/ said Mr. Nixon ; ' I shall 
 miss you greatly, and wish I had a right to insist 
 on your remaining with me.' 
 
 'That right you have,' rejoined Nora. 'When 
 I was homeless you received me into your house, 
 and I feel bound in gratitude — ' 
 
 'I received you into my family as a duty,' said 
 Mr. Nixon, interrupting her *, ' and I resign you 
 now for the same reason.' 
 
 He rang the bell in the deliberate manner that 
 Nora now knew denoted an order for dinner, and 
 she w-as but too glad to consider his doing so a 
 sign on his part that he wished to end a conversa- 
 tion that was likely to embarrass her extremely. 
 
ON THE FORCE OF HABIT. 127 
 
 Of the charms of change Nora had perhaps an 
 exaggerated idea — of the force of habit a very- 
 faint notion. With the docility that generally 
 accompanies a fair proportion of intellect, she had 
 accommodated herself to the customs of her uncle's 
 house ; but as she stood occasionally at one of the 
 study windows, or sat alone there after dinner by 
 fire-light, her thoughts had w^andered far and wide, 
 and not once had it occurred to her that happiness, 
 or even contentment, could be felt by any one who 
 was immured within the walls of one house. From 
 the day of her arrival in Russell-square, she had 
 never for one moment lost the feeling of imprison- 
 ment that had then taken possession of her ; but it 
 was ever so mixed with a hope of release at some 
 time indefinite, that she had seldom, even to 
 herself^ mourned over a captivity of such uncertain 
 length, and, taken all in all, so endurable in its 
 details. The eve of this long-expected time of 
 freedom had arrived ; and, to continue the contrast 
 with the day of her arrival, she and her uncle 
 seemed to have, in a manner, changed places. 
 While she dined, he watched her intently; so 
 much so, that he scarcely ate anything himself, 
 causing thereby some consternation on the part of 
 Biggs, the butler, who lingered unusually long in 
 the room, to satisfy himself that the claret would 
 not be disdained, as the various viands had been. 
 
 That evening, too, Nora waited in vain for hrr 
 uncle's accustomed sleep, daring which she was in 
 the habit of retiring to the study : though he 
 
128 A PRACTICAL LESSON" 
 
 Stretched out his feet, and leaned back his head in 
 the usual manner, his eyes askance were still fixed 
 on her, until, at length, murmuring something 
 about not disturbing him, she thought it better to 
 leave the room. He followed her almost imme- 
 diately, sat down to read near the fire ; but a few 
 minutes afterwards, starting up, he dashed the 
 book on the table, and returned to the dining-room. 
 A good deal surprised at conduct so unusual, Nora 
 sat musing on the probable cause, until she heard 
 the bell ring for tea, when he again entered the 
 room, and, without speaking, commenced walking 
 up and down in an uneasy, impatient manner. 
 
 'Nora,' he said at length, abruptly stopping 
 before her, ' the nomaden-like life that you have 
 led, until very lately, will, I fear, prevent you from 
 understanding me if I speak of the — force of habit.' 
 
 ' Perhaps so/ she answered ; ' my life has been, 
 as you say, nomaden-like. I do believe I have 
 never yet been long enough stationary in any place 
 to know the true meaning of either the word 
 home or habit.' 
 
 ' Pre-cisely,' said Mr. Nixon ; ' I thought so. 
 It would be absurd,' he added, with ill-concealed 
 embarrassment, ' absurd my expecting you to have 
 found anything congenial to your disposition in my 
 house : you naturally rejoice in the prospect of 
 leaving it — and me.' 
 
 * Not you,' answered Nora, quickly ; ' for though 
 our daily intercourse has been very limited, and 
 you have seldom found me worthy of any kind of 
 
ON THE FORCE OF HABIT. 129 
 
 rational companionship, I have by no means re- 
 mained so indiiferent towards you.' 
 
 ' Indeed !' said Mr. Nixon, with a look of 
 extreme satisfaction, as he seated himself at the 
 table beside her. 'Now see, Nora, my taciturn 
 habits alone have prevented me from enjoying your 
 society as I ought to have done ; but I have been 
 by no means insensible to the pleasure of having a 
 young and cheerful girl to greet me in the morning 
 and to meet me on my return home in the evening. 
 Surely you must have observed that I come home 
 from my office a whole hour earlier than formerly.' 
 
 'Certainly, I remarked it/ answered Nora, 
 smiling ; ' your return has been the only daily 
 event of importance to me — my life has been 
 positively regulated by it !' 
 
 ' Can you not imagine,' said Mr. Nixon, gravely, 
 ' that coming home to silence and loneliness will 
 now be very disagreeable, if not painful to me ?' 
 
 'I think,' she answered, beginning with some 
 anxiety to suspect the drift of his discourse, ' I 
 think that your old habits w-ill soon resume their 
 preponderance, and that you will forget an inter- 
 ruption which certainly, at first, was anything but 
 pleasing to you.' 
 
 ' Very well reasoned, indeed,' said Mr. Nixon ; 
 ' it seems you know more of the force of habit than 
 I supposed. Let me, however, tell you that your 
 presence has been no interruption to my habits, 
 and a very great embellishment to my home — that, 
 
 VOL. I. K 
 
130 A PRACTICAL LESSON 
 
 in short, you have become necessary to my comfort 
 and happiness, and — and — I wish you would con- 
 sent to remain with me.' 
 
 Nora's countenance fell so instantaneously and 
 perceptibly that her uncle hastened to add, ' I 
 shall, of course, undertake to provide for you 
 respectably, and promise to make a codicil to my 
 will for that purpose to-morrow.' 
 
 What did Nora know about codicils ? what did 
 she, with youth, health, and beauty, care for a 
 respectable provision ? She sat beside her uncle in 
 a painful state of embarrassment, a vague feeling 
 of gratitude alone preventing her from refusing at 
 once a proposition so unwelcome and perplexing. 
 All things considered, her gratitude was without 
 much foundation ; Mr. Nixon had but tolerated 
 her presence in the first instance, as the least ex- 
 pensive mode of disposing of her ; and if he had 
 felt otherwise, at a later period, she had in no way 
 been made aware of the change. This he knew 
 and understood better than Nora, who only re- 
 membered that she had been received without 
 demur, and permitted to live without molestation. 
 He made a very slight impression when he assured 
 her that the happiness she expected to enjoy in his 
 brother's house might prove of a very mixed, if not 
 uncertain description ; that Gilbert and his family 
 were about to labour up the hill of fashion, and 
 would, undoubtedly, meet with stumbling-blocks 
 in the form of rebuffs and annoyances, the mere 
 
ON THE FORCE OF HABIT. 131 
 
 description of which in books alone, had effectually 
 deterred him from ever even attempting to increase 
 or improve his small circle of acquaintances ! It 
 was the concluding sentence of his tolerably long 
 oration that at length had the effect he desired ; it 
 was when he earnestly, yet gently, entreated her to 
 stay with him, and not force an old man back into 
 a loneliness that had become distasteful to him, 
 that she consented to remain in Russell-square, and 
 of her own^ accord, before she went to bed, wrote 
 an explanatory note to her cousin Georgina, which 
 he took particularly good care should reach its 
 destination at a very early hour the next morning. 
 
( 132 ) 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 ARRIVAL OF, AN ADDITION? OR, AX 
 ACQUISITION ? 
 
 Mr. Nixon in no way concealed the satisfaction 
 he felt at having secured Nora's society * for the 
 remainder of his life,' as he unhesitatingly said to 
 his brother a few days afterwards ; adding con- 
 fidentially, * The fact is, Gilbert, I am growing 
 old, and were I to become infirm, Anne Ducker is 
 not the person I should like to have about me. 
 The wife likely to be chosen by my son Arthur 
 will never consent to live in Russell-square ; and, 
 in fact, I make no pretension to acquiring a daughter 
 when he marries — on the contrary, rather expect 
 to lose him altogether.' 
 
 ' You have very nearly done that already,' 
 observed Gilbert, bluntly. 
 
 ' By no means,' said Mr. Nixon, quickly ; * I 
 expect him home very soon to spend some time 
 with me.' 
 
 ' Perhaps he will condescend to visit us now that 
 we have moved westwards,' observed Gilbert, with 
 some pique. ' He was formerly much too fine a 
 
ARRIVAL OF, AN ADDITIOX ? 133 
 
 gentleman to notice or know me in the Park or at 
 Kensington when he happened to be surrounded by 
 his grand acquaintances.' 
 
 ' I have passed him in the same places without 
 a nod of recognition,' saidMr. Nixon, siiiilii:^; 'a 
 look of intelligence is all I expect on such occasions/ 
 
 ' Oh, if he cuts his own father, I have no right 
 to be offended/ rejoined Gilbert, laughing ; ' only 
 one of my sons had better not attempt anything of 
 the kind with me.' 
 
 ' Arthur and I have come to the most perfect 
 understanding on these subjects,' observed Mr. 
 Nixon, calmly ; * he must endeavour to rise in the 
 world, and he can do so much more easily when 
 not hampered by an old father, whose very ex- 
 istence is unknown to many of his acquaintances.' 
 
 * I have no notion of being put aside in any such 
 way,' said Gilbert, flushing a good deal. ' I should 
 think'there was nothing to prevent him from rising 
 in the world as well as my son. Money's the main 
 point, and that I have, and intend to keep too as 
 long as I live.' 
 
 ' It won't do what you want,' said his brother, in 
 the same calm, thoughtful manner ; ' the rise in the 
 social scale is only perfected in the third generation. 
 We are a decided improvement on our father in 
 manners and appearance, and in both, as well as in 
 education, our sons are an improvement on us.' 
 
 ' Ah, I knew you would say something about 
 our want of a classical education ! That indeed is 
 
134 ARRIVAL OF, AN ADDITION? 
 
 a loss never to be repaired ; but do you know, 
 Stephen, Georgy tells me that people of rank do 
 not quote Greek or Latin excepting in parliament, 
 and she thinks even if they did, I might pull out 
 my handkerchief, like the people on the stage, and 
 pretend to understand, and — ' 
 
 ' And look like a fool !' said his brother, inter- 
 rupting him. 
 
 ' That's it,' said Gilbert, laughing good-humour- 
 edly; ' after all it's better to " tell the truth and 
 shame the devil," eh ?' 
 
 ' It is better to keep quiet and make no pre- 
 tension of any kind,' answered Stephen. ^ Let 
 your sous and daughters work their way in the 
 world; your wealth will help them on, but you 
 yourself will be a dead-weight on their hands, and 
 with all their affection for you, they will find your 
 presence in society a nuisance.' 
 
 ' No, I cannot believe that,' exclaimed Gilbert, 
 walking up and down the room a good deal 
 chafed ; ' though not as good looking as you, I may 
 at least say that I have the manners and appearance 
 of a — gentleman.' 
 
 Stephen Nixon neither assented nor dissented to 
 this observation; he seemed relieved by the en- 
 trance of Nora, to whom his brother instantly 
 turned, exclaiming, ' So, Miss Nora, you prefer 
 Russell -square to Eaton-place after all, it seems !' 
 
 ' My uncle Stephen prefers my society to being 
 alone,' she answered, with a smile. 
 
OE, AN ACQUISITION? 135 
 
 ' Now, I wonder,' he continued, with some as- 
 perity — ' I wonder if you would give the same 
 answer to Lady Medway, supposing her ladyship 
 took it into her head to wish for your company !' 
 
 The possibility of an invitation to spend the 
 summer at ' The Willows ' had again partially 
 taken possession of Nora's mind, from the time 
 her cousin Georgina had informed her of the re- 
 turn of the Medways to England. She looked 
 eagerly and inquiringly towards her uncle Stephen, 
 who apparently understood her thoughts, when he 
 answered, * Gilbert is jesting, Nora ; no letter or 
 message has been sent by the Medways, nor is 
 there the slightest chance of your hearing anything 
 of them until your brother returns from the Medi- 
 terranean ; he^ I suppose, will take some notice of 
 you, but I have no fears of his ever proposing to 
 take you from me altogether as your uncle Gilbert 
 would have done.' 
 
 ' For which I shall ever feel grateful,' said Nora, 
 extending both her hands to the latter. 
 
 ' Well, well,' cried Gilbert, looking exceedingly 
 pleased, ' it's a good thing to have " two strings to 
 one's bow," Nora ; so when you are tired of Russell- 
 square you can come to Eaton-place, and vicy vercy. 
 In an establishment such as mine, one more or 
 less is of no importance, as Georgy said, when she 
 engaged the fellow who is to wear powder, and 
 indeed everything would be right if I could only 
 get used to the new fashions and the late dinner- 
 
136 ARRIVAL OF, AX ADDITION? 
 
 hour. Georgy chooses to keep the cloth on the 
 table, too, and won't let us afterwards sit round the 
 fire to crack our nuts comfortably, as I have been 
 used to do ever since I have had a house of my 
 own — but I suppose it's all right, for Mrs. Horace 
 St. Vincent told her that such customs were now 
 considered quite antidelerium.' 
 
 Mr. Nixon rubbed his upper lip to conceal a 
 smile, and said, ' You are a younger man than I 
 am, Gilbert, and can perhaps change all your 
 habits to please your children. Nora has for- 
 tunately been able to accommodate herself to the 
 old-fashioned usages of my house, though, I have 
 no doubt, many of them are diametrically opposite 
 to what she has been accustonied to. Take care 
 that Georgina does not learn to dictate more than 
 you may find agreeable hereafter.' 
 
 ' Oh, she's so clever,' responded Gilbert, with 
 evident pride, ' such a manager, that she would 
 turn even you round her finger in no time if she 
 were here. It was her plan our inviting Nora as 
 we did last week ; she said, if we took you by 
 surprise, and spoke in Nora's presence, you would 
 be ashamed to refuse your consent, it would appear 
 so egotistical on your part; and, egad, she was 
 right, but she did not reckon on your flinching 
 when our backs were turned.' 
 
 A flush passed over Mr. Nixon's face while his 
 brother continued — ' She was exceedingly provoked 
 at Nora's note of refusal, and would not come here 
 
OR, AX ACQUISITION? 137 
 
 with me to-day, as she said, she could not possibly 
 refrain from telling you that it was uncommon 
 selfish your burying poor Nora during the best 
 years of her life in your front parlour here, and 
 depriving her of all chance of settling advantage- 
 ously in the world.' 
 
 Gilbert, in his eagerness to prove the cleverness 
 of his daughter, evidently forgot the presence of 
 his niece ; not so, Stephen, who, with difficulty, 
 repressed his anger, as he answered, ' Georgina 
 seems a person of extraordinary penetration, and 
 I am happy to be able to relieve her anxiety by 
 giving her the information that she need give her- 
 self no further concern respecting her cousin's 
 settlement in the world. I shall so provide for 
 Nora, that aw — in short, Georgina may bestow all 
 her thoughts and care upon herself and her own 
 affairs in future.' 
 
 ' That I shall certainly tell her, Stephen/you 
 may depend upon it ; for she desired me to sound 
 you on that very subject, and point out to you the 
 necessity of doing something handsome for Nora, 
 after her having consented to remain with you in 
 this dismal old house !' 
 
 ' Have the goodness also to tell Georgina from 
 me,' said Mr. Nixon, his face flushing and eyes 
 flashing, '.that I consider her advice on this oc- 
 casion extremely impertinent, that I forbid all 
 future interference on her part between Nora and 
 me, and to prevent the possibility of anything of 
 
138 ARRIVAL OF, AX ADDITION? 
 
 the kind, that I shall feel greatly obliged by her 
 absenting herself altogether from my dismal old 
 house.' 
 
 ' Now, don't be offended,' said Gilbert, half 
 apologetically ; ' that the idea was not bad is 
 proved by your having already done of your own 
 accord what she desired me to suggest. You don't 
 yet know what a clever girl Georgy is ; if you only 
 heard her talk you would be astonished !' 
 
 * At her flippancy ? I dare say I should.' 
 
 ' Come, come, Stephen, you must not be angry 
 with my girl for knowing a little of the world and 
 its ways. Mrs. St. Vincent assured me, when I 
 left Georgy with her the additional year, that she 
 would make her capable of presiding over any 
 establishment in England, and I must say she has 
 kept her word. Georgy might be a duchess !' 
 
 ' I hope she may be,' said Stephen, with a grim 
 smile. 
 
 ^ It won't be her fault if she's not,' said Gilbert, 
 ' she has ambition enough for us all. But now I 
 must go — won't you take a look at my new car- 
 riage? It's a very nice turn-out, I can assure 
 you ; Georgy says, quite complete and in very 
 good style.' 
 
 ' Chosen by her, of course ?' half asked Mr. 
 JS^ixon. 
 
 ' Certainly. Nothing would have induced her 
 to enter our old coach since her return from Mrs. 
 St. Vincent.' 
 
OR, AN ACQUISITION ? 139 
 
 ' Oh— indeed !' 
 
 ' I can afford it, Stephen, afford it well,' cried 
 Gilbert, provoked at last by his brother's manner'; 
 ' and I don't see why my daughter should not have 
 her own carriage as well as your son his cab and 
 riding-horses, to say nothing of all the expensive 
 fooleries on which he spends so many thousands 
 every year !' 
 
 ' Your ignorance, alone, excuses the word 
 fooleries,' said Mr. Nixon, with a smile of con- 
 tempt. 
 
 * I know I am ignorant, Stephen,' cried Gilbert, 
 too angry to understand the less offensive meaning 
 of his brother's word, ' but there is no necessity for 
 your telling me so continually. All the Greek and 
 Latin ever learned at Oxford or Cambridge would 
 not have taught us to make money like the writing 
 and arithmetic that you pretend to despise.' 
 
 * You misunderstand me — ' began Stephen. 
 
 ' No, I don't. You sneer at me and my family 
 because we are about to make at home the same 
 efforts that your son has been for years making 
 abroad.' 
 
 * By no means,' said Mr. Nixon. ' Don't sup- 
 pose I blame the young people for endeavouring to 
 rise, or even for making desperate efforts to push 
 themselves forward in the world ; they may suc- 
 ceed, but you will only be ridiculed for your pains.' 
 
 ' And why so ?' asked Gilbert. ' Did not Nora's 
 father — ' 
 
140 ARRIVAL OF, AX ADDITION? 
 
 * You have chosen a bad example,' said Stephen, 
 interrupting him ; ' Nora's father sacrificed his 
 fortune to fashion, and died — a pauper.' 
 
 ' Take care that Arthur does not do the same,' 
 said Gilbert. 
 
 ^I have no anxiety on that subject,' answered 
 Stephen, nodding his head. ' Few fathers are on 
 more confidential terms with their sons than I am 
 with mine. Arthur has seldom exceeded his 
 allowance, and when he does so, it is only for 
 objects 0^ virtu. ^ 
 
 ' Virtue, indeed !' exclaimed Gilbert, laughing 
 ironically. ' You know very little about him or 
 his virtue, during the last twelve years, I suspect ! 
 My sons Sam and Jack shall remain at home, 
 and never wear a moustache on pain of being 
 disinherited !' 
 
 ' Oh, it's the moustache that has given offence, ! 
 said Stephen, smiling. 
 
 ' No offence at all,' rejoined Gilbert ; ' but I 
 have heard enough of your son's doings to make 
 me resolve to keep my sons at home as long as I 
 can ; and if going abroad be so necessary as people 
 seem to think now-a-days, why I shall go with 
 them, and follow them about too, wherever they go.' 
 
 ' I advise you to set about learning French, with 
 all convenient expedition,' said Stephen, with a 
 sneer. 
 
 * I shall have a coureer^ retorted his brother. 
 ' And a tea-kettle — ' suggested Stephen. 
 
OR, AN ACQUISITION ? 141 
 
 Gilbert took up his hat, with evident signs of 
 extreme irritation. 
 
 Stephen rose and laid his hand on his brother's 
 arm. 'Come, Gilbert,' he said, Met us under- 
 stand each other, and not part in anger. You are 
 a clever, clear-headed man, as I have reason to 
 know, having often enough profited by your 
 advice.' 
 
 The other, with a look of returning satisfaction, 
 attempted to disclaim. 
 
 ' I say, you are an unusually clever man of 
 business,' persisted Stephen; 'but you are no man 
 of the world, and never will be — or I either, though 
 I know more of it from books than you do. Try 
 it for a few years, and painful experience will con- 
 vince you that I am right. As to our children — ■ 
 it is evident you feel no great regard for my son, 
 and to tell you the truth, I do not desire the 
 society of your daughter, either for myself, or 
 Nora. Let us, therefore, as heretofore, meet daily 
 in the city, and but rarely at our respective homes. 
 Our roads are no longer parallel, and Georgina 
 will explain to you before long, that your servants 
 need not be made acquainted with the fact, of your 
 having a brother who lives so much nearer the 
 city than the West End.' 
 
 Gilbert looked conscious, as if he had already 
 heard something to that purport, and endeavoured 
 to conceal his embarrassment by asking when 
 Arthur was expected home. 
 
142 ARRIVAL OF, AN ADDITION? 
 
 ' In a week or two,' answered Stephen, ' he and 
 Lord Torpid are travelling together, and have 
 reached Paris by this time.' 
 
 ' Ah — indeed — I read this morning in the paper, 
 that it was generally supposed his lordship would 
 shortly lead the beautiful and accomplished Lady 
 Louisa Thorpe, to the — the — hymn — hym — him- 
 alay-an altar !' 
 
 Nora thought her uncle meant to be facetious, 
 and laughed. Such was not his intention ; he had 
 some slight misgiving that he had blundered a 
 little in the pronunciation of a hard word ; but, 
 otherwise, considered his speech as very correct, 
 and probably classical. 
 
 ^That may be true/ observed Stephen, suppress- 
 ing a smile, ' Lord Torpid was at Nice, for some 
 weeks, when the Medways were there. Arthur 
 can tell you all about the Thorpes, Nora, if they 
 still continue to interest you.' 
 
 ' I believe I had better try to forget them, as 
 they seem to have forgotten me/ answered Nora, 
 blushing. 
 
 ' The Medways are a very distinguished family,' 
 said Gilbert, as he walked towards the door, * very 
 distinguished, indeed ! Yesterday evening, her 
 ladyship entertained a select party, at her house in 
 Grosvenor-place, at which were present the Earl 
 and Countess of Witherington, the Ladies Martin- 
 gale, Lord Augustus Jockley, and other members 
 of the aristocracy. It is not improbable that I 
 
01?, AN ACQUISITION ? 14 
 
 o 
 
 may become acquainted with the Medways during 
 the season, Nora ; and you may depend upon my 
 speaking of you the first opportunity that occurs.' 
 
 He left the room with a pompous wave of the 
 hand, and an oddly contrasting good-humoured 
 smile. 
 
 This conversation made a deep impression on 
 Nora, from having given her more insight into the 
 characters of her two uncles than all the previous 
 months of careful observation. Mr. Nixon never 
 referred to it ; but the knowledge that Nora was 
 not altogether in his power, that others were as 
 desirous as he was of having her to reside with 
 them, unconsciously raised her in his estimation, 
 and made him anxious to relieve the tedium of his 
 house. That same evening, he requested her to pre- 
 side in future at the tea-table, proposed her writing 
 once a-week a list of the books she wished to read, 
 promising to procure them for her with his own, 
 and, in a fit of kind though tfalness, actually sur- 
 prised her with a present of a pianoforte, which 
 with difficulty found a place in the study. She 
 saw his efforts to make her feel herself at home, 
 and, unostentatiously met them half way ; so that 
 by the time her cousin Arthur arrived, she had 
 pretty nearly obtained the position of a daughter 
 in his father's house. It was his arrival that first 
 made her painfully conscious of the very reduced 
 state of her wardrobe; her mourning was com- 
 pletely worn out, she had outgrown all her other 
 
144 AimiYAL OF, AX ADDITION? 
 
 clothes, had no money to replace them, and could 
 not overcome the repugnance she felt to an expla- 
 nation with her uncle on this subject. From week 
 to week she had hoped he would observe her 
 wants, and say something when on the way to 
 church, during the cold, damp, autumn Sundays ; 
 but he had no idea that her crape bonnet that had 
 borne the dust of two summers, could not also 
 sustain the sleet and rain of the succeeding 
 winters. 
 
 Nora's embarrassment was greatly increased by 
 the unusual preparations made for the reception oi 
 her cousin. The drawing-room windows were 
 opened, the furniture uncovered, and fires lighted ; 
 Anne Ducker informing her_, that their dear Arthur 
 could not endure a house looking only half in- 
 habited. The treasures of the front bed-room, and 
 adjoining dressing-room, which were his, were 
 then too, for the first time, completely disclosed to 
 her admiring eyes, and she was permitted, at her 
 leisure, to examine the choice pictures that covered 
 the walls, the inlaid cabinets and tables, bronze 
 statuettes, vases, and other objects of art, with 
 which they were crowded. The day of his arrival, 
 light once more fell on the splendid service of plate, 
 and the silver vessels of various form, that had deco- 
 rated the sideboard on the occasion of the Christ- 
 mas party ; but when Nora at last perceived that 
 new and handsome carpets were being laid on the 
 stairs, she thought it time to inspect her wardrobe, 
 
OR, AN ACQUISITIOX ? 145 
 
 and endeavour to discover some dress appropriate 
 for the reception of a person of such evident im- 
 portance. She possessed a black velvet gown that 
 had belonged to her mother, and though a foreign 
 prejudice had hitherto made her unwilling to wear 
 what she had learned to consider a matron's dress, 
 she was now^ glad to have it, with its valuable old lace 
 appendages, unconscious, when her toilet was com 
 pleted, and she reluctantly left her room, that she 
 had never in her life looked so picturesque and 
 pretty, so graceful and dignified, as while leaning 
 for a moment over the banisters of the staircase, 
 to ascertain whether or not her cousin had arrived. 
 He had arrived. Ostentatious as had been the 
 preparations for his reception, nothing could be 
 more simple and quiet than his entrance. Having" 
 joined his father at his office in the city, they 
 had returned home together, and he had then 
 expressed so much more desire to see Mrs. Ducker 
 than his cousin ISTora, that he had retired first to 
 the apartment of that much-flattered woman, and 
 then to his own, making hastily the slight altera- 
 tions in his dress which he considered sufficient for 
 his father and the young relation whose acquaint- 
 ance he was about to make. He seemed, however, 
 rather to waver in the latter opinion, as, immediately 
 after leaving his room, his eyes rested on the 
 charming figure in black velvet, that he saw pre- 
 ceding him down stairs, and he would, perhaps, 
 have retreated to efiect some advantageous change, 
 
 VOL. 1. L 
 
146 ARRIVAL OF, AN ADDITION ? 
 
 had not Nora looked up and — smiled, smiled as if 
 she already knew him. 
 
 In a moment he was beside her, and they 
 entered the drawing-room together, where they 
 found Mr. Nixon enacting grand seigneur with all 
 his might for the laudable purpose of gratifying his 
 only son. 
 
 The dinner, as far as conversation was concerned, 
 proved almost a tete-a-tete between Nora and her 
 cousin ; but she left the father and son together 
 directly afterwards, and sitting down beside the fire 
 in the drawing-room (where she felt rather as if in 
 a strange house) she came very quickly to the 
 conclusion that Arthur was very decidedly gen- 
 tlemanlike. She thought his hair, too, rather 
 ♦auburn than red ; and if the colour of his beard 
 admitted of no doubt whatever, it did not prevent 
 him from being good-looking : he was agreeable, 
 too, and would be a pleasant addition to their 
 small party, an acquisition to her as well as to her 
 uncle. 
 
 A very short time elapsed before he joined her, 
 and, drawing a chair close to hers, said, ' My 
 father is sleeping, and, I suppose, will continue to 
 do so for half-an-hour longer. Let us have coffee, 
 and tell me all you know about Ladv Louisa 
 Thorpe : she is going to be married to a friend of 
 mine — one of the quietest, best-natured fellows in 
 the world, and I hope you can tell me that he has 
 not drawn a blank in Hymen's lottery.' 
 
OR^ AX ACQUISITION? 147 
 
 ' I know very little of Louisa,' answered Nora ; 
 ' but I should think Lord Torpid had not made a 
 bad choice.' 
 
 * So you know all about it !' said Arthur ; * very 
 natural — to be sure — of course.' 
 
 * Do not misunderstand me,' rejoined Nora, 
 quickly. ' A paragraph in one of the papers, 
 repeated by my uncle Gilbert, gave me all the 
 information I possess. That Lord Torpid and the 
 Marquis of Witherington sxQyour intimate friends, 
 Anne Ducker has impressed upon my mind by 
 dint of eternal repetition of the words.' 
 
 Arthur half laughed as he exclaimed, * Dear old 
 Ducker ! I hope you like her, Nora ? In fact, 
 you must, for she loves you beyond measure, and 
 has already assured me that you are a " hangel :" I, 
 too, feel rather inclined to think this must be the 
 case now that my father has told me you refused to 
 go to Mr. Gilbert Nixon's in order to vegetate 
 here with him. It was an immense sacrifice on 
 your part ; and what this house must have ap- 
 peared to you, coming from the Medways, I can 
 well imagine.' 
 
 Nora played with her fire-screen, and made no 
 attempt to disclaim. 
 
 ' You expected,' he added, with some hesitation, 
 ' to return to — them ?' 
 
 ' I confess I had some foolish hopes of the kind 
 for a month or so,' answered Nora, with a freedom 
 from embarrassment that encouraged her com- 
 
148 ARRIVAL OF^ AX ADDITION ? 
 
 panion to go on ; yet he looked at the fire, and not 
 at her, as he observed — 
 
 * You did not know Lord Medway's wavering 
 character, and expected him to carry through his 
 plans concerning you with firmness.' 
 
 ' I hardly knew what I expected,' she answered, 
 leaning back in her chair, and gazing thoughtfully 
 at the ceiling ; ' I did not expect to be so com- 
 pletely forgotten, certainly *, but, after all, the plan 
 was impracticable, you know, without his mother's 
 consent.' 
 
 ' I know no such thing,' said Arthur ; ' her lady- 
 ship's consent was, undoubtedly, desirable, but by 
 no means necessary to a man in his position. Our 
 cousin Georgina would, in your place, have played 
 her cards differently, and gone to Nice as— -head 
 nurse — hired by his lordship himself — as Lady 
 Medway, in short !' 
 
 ' I do not understand — ' began Xora. 
 
 ' Is it possible you did not know that he intended 
 to marry you ? that his brother had the greatest 
 difficulty in keeping him in Paris ; that he re- 
 fused for a long time to see his mother, who was 
 obliged to propitiate him by making all sorts of 
 promises about you for the ensuing summer, the 
 fulfilment of which her son Charles assisted her in 
 evading ?' 
 
 ' Are you quite sure of all this ?' asked Nora, 
 earnestly. 
 
 " f erfectly certain.' 
 
OR, AX ACQUISITION? 149 
 
 ' And,' continued Nora, ' and they returned to 
 England last year ?' 
 
 ' Oh, no ! I don't think anything but the 
 marriage of her two eldest daughters would even 
 now have induced Lady Medway to return. In 
 her present position as a widow she finds Paris, 
 Naples, or Kome pleasanter places of residence 
 than London ; besides which, she wished to have 
 the Channel for some time longer between you and 
 Medway, being much more afraid of the effect of 
 your beaux yeux than even her son Charles, who 
 told a friend of mine, in confidence, that a very 
 short separation would be sufiicient for their 
 purpose, as you were merely a — a — ' 
 
 ' What ?' asked Nora, smiling. 
 
 ' Something so very different from what you are, 
 that for his sake I am glad he gave the name 
 of his informant.' 
 
 ' And who may that have been ?' asked Nora. 
 
 ' Your step-brother, Harry Darwin, who most 
 probably has not seen you since you were a child.' 
 
 * Harry never liked me,' said Nora, with some 
 emotion ; ' but that is of little importance to me 
 note. As to Charles Thorpe, I dislike him 
 intensely.' 
 
 ' You would not if you knew him,' said Arthur ; 
 'he is a fine resolute fellow, and knows perfectly 
 what he is about. As to his not particularly 
 wishing his brother to marry, why — aw — a — hum — ' 
 
 ' Oh ! as to that,' said Nora, ^ my studies in 
 
150 AREIYAL OF, AX ADDITION ? 
 
 English novels and tales of fashionable life since I 
 have been here have given me such an insight into 
 the present state of society that I can perfectly 
 understand his motives.' 
 
 ' And partly excuse them, perhaps,' said Arthur, 
 'when you consider his brother's state of health, 
 and that he did not know you personally.' 
 
 The entrance of a servant with coffee prevented 
 her from answering : and Mr. Nixon joining them 
 almost immediately afterwards, the Thorpes were 
 not again mentioned. 
 
( 151 ) 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 BATTLEDORE AND SHUTTLECOCK. 
 
 It was not long before Nora began to discover that 
 her internal rejoicings at the agreeable addition to 
 their family had been somewhat premature. 
 Arthur Nixon left home every morning directly 
 after breakfast with his father^ sometimes accom- 
 panying him to the City, more frequently directing 
 his steps westward to the Club, where he not only 
 received his notes and letters, but also his friends ; 
 and in the course of time the numerous invitations 
 he expected for dinners, soirees, and balls. The 
 evening after his arrival he went to the opera ; and 
 from that time forward, for several weeks, seldom 
 dined at home, excepting on Sundays. He in- 
 formed his father daily at breakfast of his evening 
 engagements, spoke of every person and every- 
 thing he saw without the slightest reserve ; and on 
 such occasions exhibited a degree of satire emi- 
 nently calculated to lead the uninitiated to suppose 
 that in his heart he had learned to despise the 
 rank and fashion, in the pursuit of which he was 
 squandering the best years of his life. 
 
 Nora and her uncle returned to their old habits. 
 
152 BATTLEDORE AND SHUTTLECOCK. 
 
 and the study, and Arthur became to them merely 
 an occasional, but always acceptable and agreeable 
 guest. As the spring advanced, his engagements 
 multiplied ; and though he complained frequently 
 of being bored and fatigued, he seldom made 
 arrangements for a day of rest ; gravely assuring 
 Nora, when she jested on the subject, that if he 
 remained at home for even one week, he should 
 run a great chance of being * clean forgotten, like 
 a dead man, out of mind.' 
 
 One rainy afternoon, towards the end of May, 
 he returned home at an unusually early hour, and 
 instead of going directly to his room, as was his 
 custom, turned into the study. That he expected 
 to find Nora there is certain, but so little did her 
 absence concern him, that he took up a book, with- 
 out even inquiring whether or not she were in the 
 house *, and, throwing himself into a chair, rather 
 rejoiced in the feeling of being alone. Scarcely, 
 however, had the slight noise produced by his 
 movement of books and chairs ceased, than he 
 heard the sound of irregular, eager, almost breath- 
 less counting in the adjoining dining-room — 98 — 
 99_300!~301— 302— 3— 4— 5 and so on. 
 
 Cautiously opening the door of communication 
 between the rooms, he perceived that Nora, adroitly 
 avoiding the tables and chairs, was amusing herself 
 with a solitary game of battledore and shuttlecock, 
 her anxiety lest the latter should fall to the ground 
 being so great that his intruding head remained 
 
BATTLEDORE AXD SHUTTLECOCK. 153 
 
 long unperceived. It happened that one of her 
 greatest personal advantages was a perfectly-formed 
 figure, and nothing could be more graceful or fas- 
 cinating than the unstudied and various positions 
 into which her game compelled her to place it, 
 while her upturned face, with sparkling eyes, lips 
 slightly parted, and cheeks into which exercise had 
 forced the clearest and brightest colour, made her, 
 for the time being, the most beautiful creature he 
 had ever beheld. He w^atched with intense in- 
 terest every movement, followed with a sort of 
 nervous anxiety the wavering flight of the shuttle- 
 cock as it sometimes approached, sometimes re- 
 ceded from his vicinity, and started when at length 
 it alighted on his head and Nora stood before him. 
 
 ' Oh, wdiy did you open the door !' she exclaimed, 
 in a tone of jesting reproach ; ' if your tiresome 
 head had not been there, I could have completed 
 my fourth or even fifth hundred without interrup- 
 tion. Surely you must have returned home a full 
 hour too soon to-day !' 
 
 ' An hour earlier — but I hope not too soon,' he 
 answered, with heightened colour. 
 
 * Oh, I have said something you don't like to 
 hear, or you would not correct my English,' ob- 
 served Nora, smiling archly as she continued to 
 play with her shuttlecock. But it now began to 
 fall continually, and after Arthur had raised it 
 from the floor at least a dozen times, he said he 
 supposed she must be tired. 
 
154 BATTLEDORE AXD SHUTTLECOCK. 
 
 ' Not at all,' she answered, quickly, ' it is divid- 
 ing my attention between you and the shuttlecock 
 that makes me so maladroite : I am never tired 
 until after my fifth hundred.' 
 
 ' What on earth do you mean by your fourth 
 and fifth hundred ?' asked Author. 
 
 ' Why you see,' said Nora, tossing the shuttle- 
 cock towards the ceiling and pursuing it afterwards 
 with a look of sportive eagerness — ' you see I am not 
 accustomed to be so completely confined to the house 
 (bump, bump), as if I had been born and bred in 
 London (bump). — So when I first came here I used 
 to run up and down the stairs a good deal (bump, 
 bump, bump) ; but without any object in view, it 
 was all too tiresome (bumpj. Then I made a ball 
 for myself (bump) — broke the windows (bump, 
 bump) — and had no money to pay the glazier!' 
 Here the shuttlecock fell to the ground, and she 
 raised it herself, as Arthur repeated — 
 
 * Pay the glazier ?' 
 
 ' Yes, for I did not wish my uncle to know that 
 I was so childish as to play at ball, so Duckey 
 paid for me (bump, bump), and did not write it 
 in the account-book. She also (bump) gave me 
 this battledore and shuttlecock last Christmas 
 (bump, bump, bump.) — 
 
 ' Ducker !' exclaimed Arthur. 
 
 ' Yes, Ducker,' said Nora, coming towards him, 
 and with light touches of her hands keeping the 
 shuttlecock constantly in the air just before her 
 
BATTLEDORE AND SHUTTLECOCK. 155 
 
 face, after the manner of the most expert juggler, 
 ' You have no idea how kind she has been to me.' 
 
 ' Or how generous you have been to her,' said 
 Arthur ; ' yet she has shown me a brooch and ear- 
 rings given her by you, which were certainly in- 
 tended to deck a fairer person than good old 
 Ducker's.' 
 
 ' Earrings are a barbarous ornament,' replied 
 Nora, smiling, ' and I never wear them. Other 
 trinkets I value in exact proportion to my affection 
 for the donors. The brooch that so delighted 
 Ducker was worthless to me, given carelessly and 
 accepted unwillingly. I can only rejoice in its 
 having at last found a possessor who will value it, 
 both intrinsically and fictitiously.' 
 
 ' You have raised my curiosity concerning this 
 brooch,' said Arthur. ' Have you any objection to 
 tell me the name of the donor ?' 
 
 ' None whatever — it was my step-brother, Harry 
 Darwin.' 
 
 ' Do you feel so very indifferent towards him ?' 
 asked Arthur. 
 
 ' I have reason to do so,' answered Nora. ^ He 
 never cared for me, and the letter I Avrote to in- 
 form him of my father's death and my unpleasant 
 position was not answered for six months !' 
 
 ' It may not have reached him so soon as you 
 supposed,' suggested Arthur. 
 
 ' It was forwarded to him immediately by Charles 
 Thorpe, who must have given him some informa- 
 
156 BATTLEDORE AXD SHUTTLECOCK. 
 
 tion concerning me at a later period, as in his 
 answer, though he passed over my father's death 
 as an event of no importance, he expressed very 
 great satisfaction at my being so well provided 
 for; and recommended me to conciliate my uncle 
 Stephen in every possible w^ay, and to make myself 
 generally useful in his house.' 
 
 ' When you again write,* said Arthur, ' you can 
 tell him that you have made yourself indispensable 
 to my father.' 
 
 ' Our correspondence is at an end,' said Nora, 
 as she entered the study. ' I could read between 
 the hues of his letter, his anxiety to avoid all further 
 communication with me, his fear that I might 
 become a burden to him.' 
 
 ' For a young unmarried man, like Darwin,' 
 began Arthur, ' an orphan sister is rather a — a — ' 
 
 ' An incumbrance?' suggested Nora. ' Harry 
 shall never find me one.' 
 
 ' I should not exactly have used that word,' said 
 Arthur, laughing, ' and only wished to point out 
 to you, that Darwin only acted as a — most other 
 young men in his place would have done. He dis- 
 liked your father, I believe — knew very little of 
 you, and therefore — ' 
 
 'You need not go on,' cried Nora, interrupting 
 him, indignantly. 'After having attempted a justifi- 
 cation of Charles Thorpe's conduct the very first 
 evening of our acquaintance, I can hardly be 
 surprised at your now excusing Harry's neglect of 
 
BATTLEDORE AND SHUTTLECOCK. 157 
 
 me ! In a worldly point of view they are both 
 patterns of prudence, no doubt, but I can never 
 like them — or you either,' she added, petulantly, 
 ' if you can speak and think in this manner.' 
 
 ' Forgive me, Nora,' said Arthur, gravely, ' for 
 not being able to find fault with men whose conduct, 
 whether reprehensible or not, has been the ]ueans 
 of bringing you under our roof He sat down at 
 the writing-table, and hastily wrote a few lines, 
 while Nora, half vexed, half flattered, retired to her 
 room to dress for dinner. 
 
 Great was Mr. Nixon's surprise, and (must it 
 be confessed ?) not inconsiderable his annoyance, 
 when his son entered the study a few minutes 
 before dinner-time, and carelessly saying that he 
 had written an excuse to the Savage Wayward s, 
 and intended to dine at home, sat down beside 
 Nora, and peered over her shoulder, while she 
 examined a book of engravings containing views of 
 various mountainous parts of Germany, but chiefly 
 the Tyrol. 
 
 ' If you had mentioned your intention of remain- 
 ing with us a little earlier,' said Mr. Nixon, * we 
 could have had a fire in the drawing-room ; in fact,' 
 he added, hastily turning round, * it is not too late, 
 and the — ' 
 
 ' Let me entreat that no change may be made 
 for me,' cried Arthur, springing towards him. ' I 
 am really not such a bulky fellow that you cannot 
 find room for me in your snuggery here.' 
 
158 BATTLEDORE AND SHUTTLECOCK. 
 
 ' But,' said his father, ' I know you dislike this 
 room, and when we have drawing-rooms, why not 
 use them ?' 
 
 ' Why not, indeed !' exclaimed Arthur, laughing, 
 ' but, on the present occasion, I do not choose in any 
 way to interfere with your or Nora's habits, nor do 
 I choose to be treated as a visitor any longer.' 
 
 'I assure you, however,' said Mr. Nixon, 'that 
 when the weather begins to get warm I have no 
 sort of objection to going up stairs in the evening. 
 I only turned in here when I was quite alone, you 
 know.' 
 
 ' Yes, but you have continued here with Nora, 
 and she likes this room better than the others, I am 
 quite sure ;' he turned to Nora, while speaking, but 
 without waiting to hear her answer, Mr. Nixon left 
 the room to give some orders about Rhine wine 
 and ice, while Arthur, resuming his place beside 
 his cousin, bent over the engravings and murmured, 
 ' I wish I were at any of these places.' 
 
 'So do I,' said Nora, vainly endeavouring to 
 suppress a sigh. 
 
 ' You are, probably, well acquainted with them 
 all ?' he asked. 
 
 ' I. have spent several summers among these 
 mountains,' she answered, ' and know the banks ol 
 the Inn, and Innsbruck, far, far better than the 
 Thames and London !' 
 
 'I suspect you have as yet seen scarcely any- 
 thing of London,' he observed. 
 
BATTLEDORE AND SHUTTLECOCK. 159 
 
 ' Rather say nothing at all,' she replied ; ' I have 
 not even had a glimpse of St. Paul's and West- 
 minster Abbey.' 
 
 'You shall see both to-morrow,' he said, smiling. 
 
 ' Oh thank you — I should like so much to see 
 the Tower, also, if — if — ' here she stopped, for 
 it suddenly flashed across her mind that she had no 
 dress in which she could appear in public with her 
 cousin. To hide her embarrassment she turned 
 over a leaf and forgot it altogether as her eyes 
 rested on a view of Meran, with its beautiful 
 suburb of Obermais. ' There, there we lived/ she 
 said, her colour rising as she extended her hand to 
 the print, * just beside that church — I do believe 
 these are the windows of our little drawing-room — 
 we could see the Zenoburg and the road to the 
 Castle of Tyrol from them. You have been to see 
 the remains of the old castle ?' 
 
 'Yes,' said Arthur, 'the view from that long 
 room which, by-the-by, is not at all ancient look- 
 ing, is the most beautiful imaginable — without 
 water.' 
 
 ' But there is the Adige,' cried Nora, eagerly, 
 ' one can follow the course of the river for miles.' 
 
 ' True, but it looks like a silver thread ; and 
 to satisfy me half the valley ought to have been 
 under water in the form of a lake — I dare say it 
 was, once upon a time.' 
 
 ' If you were not enchanted with that view, just 
 as you found it,' said Nora, 'we must never travel, 
 
160 BATTLEDORE AND SHUTTLECOCK. 
 
 nor even look at prints together,' and she prepared 
 to close the book. 
 
 ' Surely you will allow me to differ from you in 
 opinion occasionally,' he said, preventing her from 
 doing so ; ' if we always thought alike there would 
 be an end to all conversation.' 
 
 'But,' said Nora, 'I am afraid you are like 
 most travelled Englishmen, and will contrive to find 
 something to criticise everywhere.' 
 
 ' Try me,' said Arthur. 
 
 ' This is Rametz,' she said, pointing to a castel- 
 lated building. ' You know Kanietz.' 
 
 Arthur nodded. 
 
 ' And the very fat Italian doctor to whom it 
 belongs ?' 
 
 'No.' 
 
 ' The son of a peasant of Meran, who studied in 
 Italy, became a celebrated physician, saved money, 
 returned home to purchase the ruins among whicli 
 he had played as a boy, and restored^ and rebuilt, 
 and added — ' 
 
 Arthur laughed. Nora stopped, and looked at 
 him inquiringly. 
 
 ' I had not time to find out all this,' he said ; ' but 
 it accounts most satisfactorily for the confusion of 
 architecture, which you must allow to be rather 
 evident in the edifice.' 
 
 ' What do I care for the architecture !' said Nora. 
 ' I did not go to Rametz to see a Gothic church or 
 Grecian temple ; I went with gay friends to sup 
 
BATTLEDORE AND SHUTTLECOCK. 161 
 
 under the vines, and to stand on the balcony, after 
 sunset, and watch the shadows of evening spreading 
 over the valley — I have stood there until the 
 mountain tops were lighted by the moon, and — ' 
 here she stopped again. 
 
 *Go on,' said Arthur. 
 
 'No,' answered Nora, *you are laughing at me. 
 You do not understand me, and cannot comprehend 
 the distinctness with which I can recall those scenes, 
 and remember every word I there heard spoken.' 
 
 ' I can — I do — ' cried Arthur, eagerly ; ' the 
 terrible monotony of your present existence makes 
 you return to and live in the past. Nora,' he 
 added, lowering his voice, though they were alone 
 in the room, ' are you very unhappy here ?' 
 
 ' No — oh no — by no means — only a little lonely 
 sometimes ; but that is the fault of my education, I 
 suppose. Had I been born and brought up in 
 London, I dare say I should have quite enjoyed 
 being shut up — that is a — rather confined to the 
 house as I now am.' 
 
 ' Do you go out so very seldom ?' asked Arthur. 
 
 ' Not at all, excepting to church, and occasionally 
 to walk in the square,' she answered, and then 
 fearing a renewal of his proposal to take her out 
 the ensuing day, she again bent over the prints, 
 and pointing to Schoena, asked, ' if he had been 
 there too ?' 
 
 ' No, I had not time ; in two days one cannot 
 go to all these places.' 
 
 VOL. I. M 
 
162 BATTLEDORE AXD SHUTTLECOCK. 
 
 * I am sorry you did not go to Schoena, for the 
 architecture is quite correct there, I beheve. A 
 stronghold of the middle ages, with massive walls, 
 small windows, vaulted corridors, armoury hall, 
 and so forth. I don't understand much about 
 these things, and confess that the history of one 
 of its last possessors, before it was purchased by the 
 Archduke John, interested me more than the place 
 itself 
 
 ' And what was his story ?' asked Arthur. 
 
 ' Her story, you must say/ answered Nora. 
 ' She married a peasant, and retired with him to a 
 small house, which she built lower down on the 
 hill/ 
 
 ' Some handsome fellow, no doubt,' observed 
 Arthur. 
 
 ' I did not ask,' said Nora, thoughtfully ; 
 ' they said she was not happy — ' 
 
 ' I dare say not,' interposed Arthur. 'A de- 
 scent, or, rather, a fall in rank, is always a dan- 
 gerous experiment for a woman, and a dame cha- 
 telaine^ who becomes a peasant's wife, has a very 
 difficult lesson to learn ; the sort of love, too, which 
 induces her to take such a step, is not of a descrip- 
 tion to last long^ or enable her to bear her unavoid- 
 able trials with patience.' 
 
 ' The peasant, who spoke to us about her, seemed 
 to be of your opinion also, and evidently disap- 
 proved of the match ; he would have told us more, 
 perhaps, had papa been disposed to listen. Almost 
 
BATTLEDORE AXD SHUTTLECOCK. 1G3 
 
 all the old castles about Meran, have not only 
 ancient, but also modern histories, some of them 
 quite romantic ; at Fragsburg, for instance, one of 
 the most isolated of them all, where we went in 
 the hope of seeing a curious collection of family 
 portraits described in Sewald's " Tyrol," we found 
 a widow, with a son and daughter, obliged, by cir- 
 cumstances, to reside there constantly, hardly able 
 to keep the great pile of building in repair, yet 
 clinging, with affection, to the very stones. The 
 ancestor's pictures had been disposed of in the 
 Charles Surface manner, and no rich uncle having 
 made his appearance as purchaser, they — ' 
 
 Here dinner was announced ; but Arthur only 
 waited until his father slept, afterwards to return 
 to Nora, professedly to hear the remainder of the 
 story, but, in fact, to talk of other things, and find 
 out as much as he could of the mind and attain- 
 ments of a relative, who, in the very heart of 
 London, was nearly as much alone as the young 
 shy girl she so graphically described standing be- 
 neath the old fig-tree in the dilapidated court at 
 Fragsburg. 
 
 Arthur had an evening engagement, but seemed 
 in no hurry to leave home : the announcement of 
 his cab was received with an impatient wave of his 
 hand, nor did he again think of it, or the Countess 
 of Allcourt's ball, until his father had gone to bed, 
 and Nora parted from him in the hall. Even, 
 afterwards, he stood watching her ascent of the 
 
164 BATTLEDORE AND SHUTTLECOCK. 
 
 stairs, compelling her frequently to look over the 
 banisters, and answer his reiterated ' good-night' 
 
 It was remarked, that Arthur paid very little 
 attention to the countess's daughter, Lady Emme- 
 line, that evening; the young lady herself seemed 
 to consider an officer in the Blues a very good sub- 
 stitute, but her mother thought otherwise, as she 
 was by no means unwilling to bestow one of her 
 numerous progeny on Nixon the millionnaire, a 
 man of such undoubted talent that it was generally 
 supposed he could become anything he pleased. 
 Arthur was not ignorant of the favourable opinion 
 entertained of his fortune and intellect, and in no 
 way endeavoured to lower it ; he called himself a 
 ' marrying man,' spoke of purchasing landed pro- 
 perty, and hinted an intention of entering Parlia- 
 ment the first convenient opportunity. Once only 
 that night did he address Lady Emmeline, and 
 when she was afterwards questioned by her mother 
 on the subject of his apparently interesting, though 
 short conversation, she assured her he had spoken 
 of nothing but the charms of — battledore and 
 shuttlecock, which he pronounced to be the most 
 perfectly graceful game ever invented, and one 
 that rendered a handsome woman, when playing, 
 irresistibly captivating. 
 
 The fact was, Nora's face and figure had that 
 day taken Arthur's heart by storm, and he could 
 only wonder at his previous insensibility ; while 
 thenceforward, without the slightest consideration 
 
BATTLEDORE AXD SHUTTLECOCK. 165 
 
 of the consequences, or the fahitest attempt to 
 overcome the headstron^^ passion that he felt taking 
 possession of him, he yielded to every impulse, and 
 before many days had elapsed, made Nora per- 
 fectly aware that his heart was hers, and that he 
 wished her to know it. 
 
 There are few things that ought to be less grati- 
 fying to a woman than becoming the object of a 
 sudden and violent passion of this kind, yet there 
 are not many who remember that the feeling has 
 its source in an exaggerated estimation of mere 
 personal beauty, and remain unflattered by it. 
 Nora attempted no analysis ; she received Arthur's 
 homage as willingly as it was offered ; and found 
 that his earnest devotion contrasted pleasantly with 
 her recollection of Lord Med way's languid regard. 
 He soon began to remain much at home, at first 
 ostensibly to direct her studies in English litera- 
 ture, of which she fancied herself unusually ig- 
 norant, afterwards to improve himself in German, 
 which she undoubtedly understood better than 
 English, though nothing annoyed her more than 
 being told so. Both occupations were dangerous, 
 for they led to mutual discoveries of talent, that, 
 in the common intercourse of life, might long have 
 remained concealed ; and when Arthur in time 
 learned to appreciate her mind even more than 
 her person, and began to meditate a sacrifice in 
 her favour of his long-cherished matrimonial plans, 
 the very idea of which would have appeared in- 
 
106 BATTLEDORE AXD SHUTTLECOCK. 
 
 cipient madness to him a few months previously, 
 Nora, not for a moment doubting his intentions, 
 gave herself an infinity of trouble to return his 
 affection, as she thought it deserved, and laboured 
 not unsuccessfully to become reconciled to what 
 her foreign education made her contemplate ^vith- 
 out much aversion, a mainage de convenance et 
 raison. 
 
 The weather had become sultry, windows and 
 doors were opened, the large drawing-rooms in use 
 by common consent, and either Nora remained 
 longer in the dining-room, or her uncle's drowsi- 
 ness was increased by heat, for she was seldom 
 more than a few minutes alone after dinner before 
 Arthur was again at her side. She had learned 
 to expect this, and many other little attentions of 
 so unobtrusive a nature, that though perfectly 
 understood by her, they were completely unob- 
 served by her uncle. 
 
 One day, before and during dinner, Arthur had 
 used all his eloquence to induce his father to go 
 abroad, if only for a few weeks, during the 
 summer, promising to show him scenery, of which 
 he had not yet even an idea ; pictures and statues 
 of which he had but read descriptions; and ending 
 with the assurance that none of his habits should be 
 interfered with, none of his usual comforts for- 
 gotten ; he and Nora would undertake to make 
 him enjoy himself perfectly, and travelling was 
 now so easy ! 
 
BATTLEDORE AND SHUTTLECOCK. 1G7 
 
 ' Kather too easy, Arthur,' replied Mr. Nixon, 
 drily. ' As to my ever leaving home, that is out 
 of the question ; but that you want to take flight 
 again is evident enough. Now, without intending 
 to dictate, let me tell you that I should be glad 
 to hear you had at last begun to think seriously of 
 establishing yourself in your own country ; half 
 my fortune is yours whenever you choose to 
 do so.' 
 
 ' I cannot — say — that I feel — any great inclina- 
 tion just now to — accept your — really very — liberal 
 offer,' said Arthur, with some hesitation and 
 evident embarrassment. 
 
 Mr. Nixon, who had already begun to stretch 
 and compose himself for a doze, suddenly raised 
 himself upright in his chair, and, fixing his eyes on 
 his son, observed, ' You have remained at home a 
 good deal lately, Arthur ; I hope that no quarrel 
 with Lady Emmeline has been the cause, or that 
 any difficulty on the part of her family is likely to 
 interfere with our plans. You did not seem to 
 apprehend anything of that kind when we last 
 spoke on this subject.' 
 
 ' Nor do I now,' answered Arthur, with all the 
 confidence usually manifested by his sex on such 
 occasions ; and he glanced toward Nora as he 
 added, ' any delays or difficulties that may hence- 
 forward occur are likely to be on my side.' 
 
 Now tiiis was the first time that Lady Emmeline 
 had been so mentioned in Nora's presence ; and 
 
168 BATTLEDORE AND SHUTTLECOCK. 
 
 though not by any means as yet deeply attached to 
 her cousin, she had so completely made up her 
 mind to become his wife, that she could not hear 
 unmoved so plain an intimation that he was en- 
 gaged, or nearly so, to another woman. She 
 looked alternately at her companions in a bewildered, 
 inquiring manner, felt herself blush intensely, 
 and then rising, with as much calmness as she 
 could command, murmured something about leaving 
 them alone to discuss affairs of such importance, 
 and walked towards the door, to which her cousin 
 sprang before her, and where he bent forward as 
 she passed him, in the vain hope that she would 
 look at or speak to him. 
 
 Before Nora had reached the drawing-room, her 
 consternation at what she had just heard began to 
 abate. No t)ne but herself knew what she had 
 expected and intended, and no one ever should 
 know the efforts she had made to return the affec- 
 tion of a man who, it was now evident, had only 
 been amusing himself with her. Was it right or 
 honourable that he had done so ? It is true he 
 had never uttered the word love, or spoken of 
 marriage, but — but — no matter — men were un- 
 doubtedly at liberty to act in this manner if women 
 allowed them. With her, at least, no one should 
 ever trifle again ; she had received a painful and 
 mortifying lesson, but had reason to be thankful 
 that she had not been wounded in a manner to 
 destroy her happiness irretrievably. It was, after 
 
BATTLEDORE AND SHUTTLECOCK. 169 
 
 all, a disappointment in marriage, and not in love 
 — a disappointment unknown to all the world, 
 easily concealed, not very hard to bear, and she 
 believed she should in future distrust all mankind, 
 and despise and dislike that portion of it to which 
 Arthur Nixon belonged. 
 
 Having come to this conclusion, she walked into 
 the back drawing-room, opened wide one of the 
 windows, and gasped for breath in a manner that 
 strongly resembled a succession of deep sighs. 
 The evening was oppressively warm ; and being 
 dressed, for a reason already mentioned, in the 
 indestructible black velvet, she naturally concluded 
 that the sensation of suffocation proceeded alto- 
 gether from her unseasonable attire. This led her 
 to long reflections on poverty and dependence, that 
 were by no means exhilarating ; so that as she stood 
 half on the balcony, half in the room, now growing 
 dusky in the twihght, her anger subsided slowly 
 into a despondency, that better suited the scene 
 around her. A strong current of air made her 
 aware of the opening of the door of the front 
 room ; it ceased immediately, and she was pro- 
 voked to find her heart beating violently, her hands 
 cold and trembling, as she pressed them together 
 in the agitation and dread of a meeting, and, per- 
 haps, explanation, wdth Arthur. She wished to 
 get out of the room, but could not do so without 
 passing the open folding-door and being seen. 
 Suddenly she remembered having heard her 
 
170 BATTLEDORE AXD SHUTTLECOCK. 
 
 mother say, that to prevent an untimely exhibition 
 of agitation, there was no better remedy than a 
 severe pinch administered to the back of the neck, 
 which pinch was to be repeated until it took effect. 
 She raised her hand, and — was it the pain, or hear- 
 ing her uncle's voice, that so effectually tranquillised 
 her ? She knew not, nor had she time to consider, 
 for, unfortunately perceiving the room unoccupied, 
 the first words that Mr. Nixon uttered were of a 
 nature to compel her to remain where she was, in 
 order not to embarrass him, and place herself in an 
 intolerably mortifying position. She therefore en- 
 deavoured to put herself out of sight and hearing 
 by standing on the balcony, while her uncle con- 
 tinued — * No one can be more sincerely attached 
 to Nora than I now am ; she is a good and a 
 clever girl — yes, a very clever girl, and pretty, and 
 interesting, and all that you have said, but such a 
 connexion for you Avould destroy all our plans and 
 hopes of rising in the world. I am sorry to 
 perceive that your opinions on this subject have 
 begun to waver : be yourself again, Arthur, and 
 follow the course that will enable you to found a 
 family and obtain a name! This first step is of 
 the greatest importance, and any attempt to evade 
 it will place you in my position, and force you to 
 realise your ambition in the person of your son. 
 Want of fortune may easily be overlooked on our 
 side, but want of rank — never !' 
 
 'I thought,' began Arthur, hesitatingly, 'that 
 
BATTLEDORE AXD SHTITTLECOCK. 171 
 
 perhaps my own numerous personal friends, and 
 her relationship with the Medways — ' 
 
 'They all hut deny the relationship,' said his 
 father, interrupting him : ' Lord Med way, indeed, 
 attracted probahly by her youth and good looks, 
 wished his mother to retain her in the family, but 
 her ladyship was, in consequence, rendered even 
 more anxious to get rid of her on any terms. She 
 even sent for her son Charles, who was at Vienna, 
 to manage the affair. You shall see his letters to 
 me ; they will show you in what light the Thorpe 
 family view the relationship ! Nothing could be 
 more downright than his statement of facts ; and it 
 was not flattering to Nora, I can tell you : but I 
 neither blamed him nor his mother for acting 
 precisely as I should do myself in a similar case/ 
 
 ' Were I to be the object acted upon,' said 
 Arthur, ' such plans would most certainly fail ; but 
 Nora was young and inexperienced, and Lord 
 Medway an indolent, wavering fellow, who always 
 has been, and always will be, completely governed 
 by those about him. I have yet to discover the 
 man who can rule me openly or covertly.' 
 
 ' You prefer being ruled by women,' observed 
 his father, sarcastically. ' But come : the most 
 perfect confidence has hitherto existed between us, 
 and will, I trust, continue as long as we live ; 
 believe me, this foolish fancy for your black-eyed 
 cousin will pass over, as others have done. I 
 know that your ambition fully equals mine : marry 
 
172 BATTLEDORE AND SHUTTLECOCK. 
 
 this Lady Emmeline, get into Parliament, and let 
 me see you a man of consequence, if not of rank, 
 before I die.' 
 
 'Had you so spoken a few weeks ago,' said 
 Arthur, gloomily, ' your words would have found 
 an echo, if not in my heart, certainly in my head ; 
 but now — ' 
 
 ' You surely do not mean to say that you have 
 deliberately been making a fool of yourself for that 
 length of time, Arthur ?' 
 
 'I mean to say that I then admired, but now 
 love Nora — sincerely, deeply, passionately — as I 
 have never loved before, and never shall again. I 
 fear — I — cannot forget her.' 
 
 ' Time will enable you to do so,' said Mr. Nixon, 
 quietly. ' Time must do you this good service, 
 Arthur, for I will never give my consent to your 
 marriage with her. To all your other follies I 
 have been more than indulgent, and am now pre- 
 pared to make any sacrifice to give you a position 
 in the world ; it seems to me, also, that you have 
 already paid this Lady Emmeline too much atten- 
 tion to be able to draw back with honour — ' 
 
 ' Oh, no !' cried Arthur, wdth a slight sneer : ' in 
 this world of fashion that we value so highly, one 
 is not so easily caught and bound as elsewhere. I 
 consider myself still quite at liberty.' 
 
 ' Oh, indeed !' said his father. ' Then, perhaps, 
 you prefer one of the daughters of Lord Wither- 
 ington ? Having never seen any of these young 
 
BATTLEDORE AND SHUTTLECOCK. 173 
 
 ladies, I do not venture to give an opinion ; in the 
 latter case, you will, of course, go abroad again, 
 and — Nora can then remain with me/ 
 
 'That she can do at all events,' said Arthur. 
 ' After what you have just said, I cannot speak to 
 her, and everything remains as it was, before this 
 foolish confession of mine.' 
 
 ' Not quite,' said Mr. Nixon, ' for if you do not 
 decide on either marrying Lady Emmeline, or 
 joining the Witheringtons at Baden, where you 
 told me they now are, I shall consider it necessary 
 to send Nora, for some time at least, to your uncle 
 Gilbert's. He and Georgina will I know be quite 
 pleased to have her.' 
 
 ' I dare say they will,' replied Arthur ; ' but I am 
 much mistaken if they ever let her return to you.' 
 
 ' Gilbert will scarcely interfere with me, after 
 my having told him of my intention to give her 
 two thousand pounds,' said Mr. Nixon. 
 
 ' Have you done so ?' asked Arthur, quickly. 
 
 ' Certainly. The very day after she consented 
 to remain with me, I placed the sum in the Bank 
 for her.' 
 
 ' Then,' rejoined Arthur, ' I think you had 
 better henceforward allow her to receive the in- 
 terest of this splendid fortune, for this morning, 
 when I was angry with her for persisting in her 
 refusal to go out with me, Ducker told me in con- 
 fidence, that the poor dear girl had outgrown all 
 her clothes and had no money to replace them.' 
 
174 BATTLEDORE AXD SHUTTLECOCK. 
 
 ' Why did she not tell me ?' said Mr. Nixon ; 
 * the slightest hint would have been sufficient.' 
 
 ' I do not think Nora likely ever to hint a wish 
 of the kind,' said Arthur ; ' but you are bound to 
 supply her wants, and make her existence as endur- 
 able as possible, after having refused to resign her 
 to your brother, or give her to me ; — after having, 
 in short, deliberately resolved to bury her alive in 
 this house.' 
 
 ' I really do not understand what you, and 
 Gilbert, and Georgina, mean by eternally harping 
 on the horrors of this house,' said Mr. Nixon, 
 testily. ' Nora's life is not more solitary than that 
 of thousands of others in London. I cannot per- 
 ceive why she is such an object of pity — her time 
 is at her own disposal, I give her a home, and — ' 
 
 ' And,' said Arthur, sarcastically, ' and food, 
 and even raiment, perhaps ; but you seem alto- 
 gether to forget that her previous life has been 
 spent in the enjoyment of bright skies and magnifi- 
 cent scenery, gay society, and all that art can offer 
 to improve and refine the taste. As to comparing 
 her to those who have been born and bred in 
 London, it is absurd. Canaries reared in a cage 
 are happy there, knowing no gayer kind of life ; 
 but other and rarer birds mourn their captivity, 
 and find the shelter and food given them a poor 
 exchange for liberty.' 
 
 ' In order to answer you in the same strain, 
 Arthur, let me tell you, that you will compel me 
 
BATTLEDORE AND SHUTTLECOCK. 175 
 
 to set my rare bird at liberty, if you do not soon 
 begin to think and speak more rationally than you 
 have done for the last hour. I cannot, however, 
 say,' added Mr. Nixon, walking towards the fire- 
 place, and from habit leaning on the chimney- 
 piece, and gazing into the grate, ' I cannot, how- 
 ever, say that I feel in the least uneasy as to your 
 ultimate decision ; the question is rather, now, 
 whether you go abroad or remain at home. 
 
 ' I shall remain here,' answered Arthur, sullenly. 
 
 ' And,' said Mr. Nixon, in the same calm voice, 
 ' and propose for Lady Emmeline without further 
 delay ?' 
 
 * To-night, or — never,' he replied vehemently, 
 and then strode across the room and stepped out 
 on the balcony. 
 
 His father followed him, and Nora seized the 
 opportunity to glide unseen past the open door, 
 and escape up stairs to her own room. 
 
( ^6 ) 
 
 CHAPTEE XII. 
 
 TO MARRY, — OR, NOT TO MARRY, — THAT IS THE 
 
 QUESTION. 
 
 It was with some slight trepidation that Xora de- 
 scended to breakfast the next morning. Before 
 her return to the drawing room the previous evening, 
 Arthur had left it, and probably the house also, and 
 while afterwards awaiting the striking of ten o'clock, 
 with an open book in her hand, her thoughts had 
 been completely occupied by surmises as to how he 
 and his father had parted. All her doubts on the 
 subject were at once removed when she saw them 
 standing together at one of the windows of the 
 dining-room amicably engaged in the discussion 
 of money matters. The words * purchase' and 
 settlement w^ere frequently repeated as she employed 
 herself making tea at the breakfast table, and while 
 she was still considering whether or not Arthur's 
 manner was that of a man who had taken the im- 
 portant step that had been so peremptorily enjoined 
 him, her uncle advanced towards and informed her, 
 that having, according to promise,placed two thou- 
 sand pounds in her name in the bank, she could 
 
KK 
 
 TO MARRY, — OR XOT TO MARRY. 177 
 
 draw the interest of that sum as she pleased, and 
 when she pleased in future. 
 
 Prepared for this announcement, Nora thanked 
 him warmly and appropriately ; but when, sitting 
 down beside her, he thrust a bank note of large 
 amount into her hand, saying that was for immediate 
 use, she felt distressed, and stammered and coloured 
 as a feeling that he was paying her for her disap- 
 pointment flashed across her mind. Her uneasiness 
 was, however, almost immediately relieved, when he 
 turned towards Arthur, who stood with his back to 
 them looking into the little garden, and observed, 
 with a jocularity of manner very unusual to 
 him, but denoting a satisfaction too great for 
 concealment, ' Who would think now, Nora, 
 that that man there was a bridegroom elect, the 
 accepted lover of one of the prettiest girls in Lon- 
 don !' 
 
 Nora perceived that her uncle had not thought 
 at all of her on this occcasion, so she looked 
 up and observed quietly, ' Lady Emmeline, I 
 suppose.' 
 
 Now this was said with a composure that gave 
 infinite satisfaction to herself, but struck Arthur 
 as something so unexpected that he turned his 
 flushed face round, and stared at her in astonish- 
 ment. 
 
 ' I don't know what is the custom in England, 
 Arthur,' she continued, bending slightly over the 
 table as she poured out the tea, * but abroad you 
 
 VOL. T. N 
 
178 TO MARRY, — OR NOT TO MARRY^, — 
 
 know people expect to be congratulated by all 
 their friends, and therefore — ' 
 
 ' For heaven's sake, spare me all such heartless for- 
 malities !' he cried, interrupting her vehemently, 
 while he seated himself further from her than had 
 of late been his custom, and snatched up the nearest 
 newspaper. 
 
 There are few women, even at the age of 
 seventeen or eighteen, who have not the power of 
 concealing annoyance, disappointment, and morti- 
 fication, if a strong motive make them desirous to 
 do so : some hours' reflection had enabled Nora so 
 effectually to overcome the portions of all these 
 feelings that had fallen to her lot, that she not only 
 looked but felt calm, and she experienced a strange 
 sort of satisfaction in showing her cousin that the 
 commiseration he had perhaps intended to bestow on 
 her would be quite thrown away. 
 
 Now Arthur really loved Nora ; but such is the 
 selfishness of man's heart, that he was disagreeably 
 surprised and beyond measure indignant to find 
 that he had not made her as unhappy as him- 
 self 
 
 ' Let me show you the advertisement of the 
 sale of the house I spoke of just now,' said 
 Mr. Nixon, supposing his son to be in search 
 of it, when he saw his eyes wandering up and 
 down the columns of the paper with impatient un- 
 certainty. ' It is there, just at the end of the page 
 before you.' 
 
THAT IS THE QUESTION. 179 
 
 'I know the house well,' said Arthur, after a 
 pause, ' it belongs to Lord Trebleton's young widow. 
 I suppose her jointure is not sufficiently splendid to 
 enable her to keep it, and that she intends to return 
 to her family.' 
 
 * Do you know her ?' asked Mr. Nixon. 
 
 *0f course I do — she is a daughter of Lord 
 Witherington, and by many degrees the hand- 
 somest of the family. She is somewhat extravagant 
 in her tastes, fond to excess of all kinds of gaiety, but 
 altogether one of the most charming women of my 
 acquaintance. We very nearly fell in love with 
 each other, just before she was engaged to Lord 
 Trebleton.' 
 
 ' AVould the house suit you ? ' asked Mr. Nixon, 
 but little interested in the history of its pos- 
 sessor. 
 
 'I should think so,' answered Arthur, ^for 
 undoubtedly no expense has been spared to make it 
 perfect.' 
 
 ' Then let us see about it this very day, before I 
 go to the city,' said Mr. Nixon, beginning his break- 
 fast without further delay. 
 
 Nora attended little to the conversation that 
 followed. She was considering if the very great 
 change in Arthur's manner were necessary — if in- 
 stead of the murmured good morning, and scarcely 
 perceptible bow when she had entered the room, he 
 might not have given her his hand as usual, and 
 looked at her and spoken to her. Perhaps he had 
 
180 TO MARRY, — OR XOT TO MARRY, 
 
 some idea that he had not acted honourably — but 
 no — he had observed the evening before, that in the 
 world in which he lived, men were not bound as else- 
 where, and he had certainly not in any way com- 
 mitted himself — had said, in fact, even less than Lord 
 Medway : there w^as some similarity in the two 
 cases, and Arthur, she now remembered, had not 
 blamed him in the least, had rather approved 
 of the interference of Charles Thorpe, and had 
 undertaken his defence the very first time he had 
 ever spoken to her alone. Perhaps he was glad 
 that his father now compelled him to be prudent ! 
 One thing was certain and evident to her, that 
 however much she might be admired or even loved, 
 there was that in her position in the world which 
 precluded all chance of marriage ; this fact she re- 
 solved should not again escape her memory. 
 
 A few days afterwards Arthur received as a gift 
 from his father the spacious and completely fur- 
 nished mansion of Lady Tripleton : all the treasures 
 of his rooms in Russell-square were conveyed to it, 
 and various new and costly purchases added, so that 
 between his house and visits to Lady Emmeline, he 
 had little time to spare for home. When there, he 
 was rather low spirited, and failed not whenever an 
 opportunity offered, and he chanced to be alone 
 with Nora, to assure her that he was the most 
 wretched of human beings, a martyr to the preju- 
 dices of the world and parental authority. 
 
 Yet he hurried forward the preparations for his 
 
THAT IS THE QUESTIOX. 181 
 
 marriage with an energy that gave great satisfaction 
 to the heads of both families, his father merely 
 smiling ironically when he persisted in assuring him, 
 he only wanted to have it over. Nora, in the mean 
 while, apparently forgotten, had full leisure to reno- 
 vate and improve her wardrobe. This she accom- 
 plished with judgment and taste ; her decision when 
 purchasing and giving orders astonishing Mrs. 
 Ducker, who conducted her to some of the large 
 warehouses in the city, and to the Soho Bazaar, 
 at her leisure hours, viz. between seven and nine 
 o'clock in the morning. 
 
 It is not alone simple Bob Acres who has disco- 
 vered that ' dress does make a difference.' The first 
 day that Nora laid aside her mourning, and when 
 dressing for dinner put on white muslin and rose- 
 coloured ribbons, her glass told her something to 
 the same effect, and it must be confessed she her- 
 self was more than satisfied with her appearance, as 
 she looked at the reflection of her fair young face 
 and graceful figure. She thought it probable her 
 uncle would say something on the occasion^ and 
 prepared a little speech of thanks, but on entering 
 the drawing-room all thoughts of herself or her 
 dress were lost in surprise and anxiety, when she 
 saw Mr. Nixon walking up and down the room, 
 with pallid face and purple lips, and Arthur astride 
 upon a chair, his head bent down on his hands, 
 which seemed to clutch the back of it as if cramped, 
 while he muttered ' Infernal affair alto2:ether !' 
 
182 TO MARRY^ — OR XOT TO MARRY, — 
 
 1 
 
 As Nora closed the door, he looked up, started 
 from his seat, and added, ^ Hang me if I care 
 much after all, were it not for my legion of friends 
 and acquaintances !' 
 
 * Cross the channel until the affair has blown 
 over,' suggested his father, following towards the 
 door. 
 
 ' No !' he answered fiercely, ' I will face and 
 brave them all ; not one shall dare to pity me !' 
 
 The door closed, and Nora was left alone until 
 dinner was announced. At table her uncle and 
 cousin talked of politics and public affairs ; but she 
 suspected they did so on account of the servants, 
 and was confirmed in this idea when profound 
 silence followed their absence. For her own part 
 she was so convinced that something very unpleasant 
 had occurred, and so perfectly at a loss as to its 
 nature, that she scarcely uttered a word, and left 
 the dining-room almost immediately after dinner. 
 Arthur and his father joined her at tea-time ; the 
 former went out as usual, the latter read, or 
 seemed to read, until ten o'clock, when Nora 
 went to bed, feeling herself forcibly reminded 
 that she was still a stranger in her uncle's family. 
 
 Too proud to show a particle of curiosity, she 
 scarcely observed the next morning that both 
 father and son were poring over a paragraph in 
 one of the papers as they stood together at the 
 window ; but she could not help remarking after- 
 wards that they were endeavouring to outstay 
 
THAT IS THE QUESTION. 183 
 
 each other and that a serious kind of manoeu- 
 vring was going on, which ended by Mr. Nixon 
 asking his son abruptly, ' If he intended to tell 
 Nora ?' 
 
 ' Certainly,' he replied ; * it is no secret, and I 
 am very anxious to know what she will say.' 
 
 Mr. Nixon fixed his eyes on her, while Arthur, 
 folding the morning paper into a small form, 
 placed it so before her that her eyes instantly fell 
 on a paragraph headed ' Marriage in High Life,' 
 in which the engagement of Lady Emmeline Wary 
 to her cousin the Marquis of Torrisford was an- 
 nounced in the usual manner. 
 
 It was some moments before Nora could 
 stammer, ' How is this ? was she not betrothed 
 to you ?' 
 
 'We have no betrothals in England,' replied 
 Arthur. ' She was engaged to me publicly enough, 
 and I thought willingly too ; but yesterday morning 
 she informed me that she had long been attached 
 to her cousin Torrisford, and entreated me to 
 release her from a promise that had been in a manner 
 extorted from her by her mother. Could I refuse? 
 I felt myself atrociously and notoriously jilted, but 
 any attempt to seek redress after such a confession 
 on her part would only have served to render my 
 position still more ridiculous ; so having told her I 
 was sorry her cousin had not known his own mind, 
 and rewarded her constancy a few weeks earlier, I 
 resigned my claims, and prepared myself to face 
 
184 TO MARRY, — OR NOT TO MARRY, — 
 
 the world's dread laugh as well as I could on such 
 short notice.' 
 
 Nora's colour mounted to her temples, and she 
 paused for a moment before she observed, 'This 
 is a most unexpected — a most undeserved indig- 
 nity, Arthur. I am sincerely sorry for your 
 disappointment.' 
 
 ' I shall get over that easily enough,' he an- 
 swered with a slight sneer ; ' my heart was wonder- 
 fully little engaged in this affair.' 
 
 Mr. Nixon walked across the room, and placed 
 himself behind Nora's chair, directly facing his 
 son. 
 
 ' But the vexatious mortification — the — the pub- 
 licity' — continued Nora, indignantly. 
 
 ' Well,' he said, with a forced smile, * I suppose 
 I shall get over that too. Emmeline's avowal of 
 an attachment to her cousin is infinitely less dis- 
 tressing to me now than it would have been after 
 our marriage : she assured me he was in ignorance 
 of her engagement to me when he wrote the letter 
 from Naples, which she offered to show me, but 
 which I declined reading. I suppose, however, 
 that I must believe her ; and I have serious 
 thoughts of giving a proof of my good faith and 
 exemplary patience by requesting an invitation to 
 the wedding, which will be celebrated a few weeks 
 hence.' 
 
 So Arthur spoke to Nora, so also to all his friends 
 and acquaintances, by no means avoiding them or 
 
THAT IS THE QUESTION. 185 
 
 the subject that formed the chief topic of dis- 
 cussion for nearly nine days, after which it was 
 forgotten by all but those personally interested in 
 the affair. But though Arthur jested lightly 
 and laughed good-humouredly at his 'disappoint- 
 ment in marriage/ as he pointedly called it, he 
 was greatly irritated and deeply mortified, proving 
 it to all thoughtful observers by his continuing to 
 parade his indifference long after the effort had 
 ceased to be necessary. His father wished him — 
 urged him — to go abroad for a few months, in vain ; 
 he was determined to stay out the season, and 
 employed himself chiefly in the purchase of 
 pictures and furniture for his house, no wish of 
 his being left ungratified by his father, who secretly 
 blamed himself for having precipitated his son's 
 choice of a wife, and thereby drawing him into his 
 present painful position. 
 
 One day when Arthur at dinner was expatiating 
 on the excellence of a picture that was for sale at 
 an artist's in Piccadilly, his father, who had, at 
 his request, been to see it, at first hesitatingly 
 'supposed his son might be right, as he had ex- 
 perience in such things,' and then commenced a 
 criticism that was as distinguished for sound sense 
 as want of technical language. Arthur laughed, 
 while Nora, with a smile^ assisted her uncle to 
 express his opinion in proper words, and then 
 playfully sided with him as much as her want of 
 knowledge of the object of discussion would permit. 
 
186 TO MARRY, — OR XOT TO MARRY, — 
 
 * Two against one is not quite fair,' said Arthur 
 at last, turning to his father ; ' but as Nora has 
 seen most of the best pictures in Europe, and I 
 really believe knows something about the matter 
 in question, I am ready to make her umpire 
 between us. Shall I drive her down to Piccadilly 
 to-morrow, and will you abide by her decision ?' 
 
 Mr. Nixon instantly agreed, and Nora had no 
 reason and no wish to excuse herself Arthur 
 was in waiting exactly at the appointed hour the 
 next day — he examined her dress with a critical 
 eye, bestowed on it some words of approval, on 
 herself a glance of undisguised admiration, and 
 then devoted his attention for some time to the 
 rash movements of his high-stepping horse. 
 
 Nora's opinion of the picture was quickly given ; 
 she agreed with Arthur in considering it worthy of 
 much commendation as a work of art, but scarcely 
 adapted for a private collection intended to 
 decorate the walls of a dwelling-house. The 
 subject was hackneyed (nymphs bathing) ; and the 
 very excellence of the flesh-tints would make it, to 
 her at least, an unpleasant picture to have con- 
 stantly before her. 
 
 ' You are a genuine Englishwoman after all, 
 Nora,' said Arthur, smiling, ' and somewhat prudish 
 too, for the painter, by means of water, rocks, and 
 trunks of trees, has managed to make this picture 
 the least exceptionable of its kind that I have ever 
 seen.' 
 
THAT IS THE QUESTION". 187 
 
 ' Perhaps so,' she answered, turning away, while 
 he, half-petulantly remonstrating against her ' ab- 
 surd objection,' followed her to an unfinished portrait 
 at a little distance. There she stopped, and said, 
 in a low voice, ' Those other people, and the 
 presence of the artist, prevented me from saying 
 all I thought of the picture. The richness of colour 
 is an exaggeration of nature ; did you not observe 
 how very freely he has used vermihon 7 
 
 * N — o — I don't know much about the mixture 
 of oil colours. You do, I suppose ?' 
 
 * A little — that is, I studied it for some time, 
 until either the smell of the materials or the seden- 
 tary occupation disagreed with me. I was a mere 
 copyist, but learned enough to have some idea 
 of the browns of Rembrandt and the flesh-tints of 
 Rubens.' 
 
 ' That's it,' cried Arthur ; ' the colouring in that 
 picture strongly resembles Rubens.' 
 
 '- And are you aware that, to copy a head of his, 
 the colours on your palette must be different from 
 those required for any other master ? that the 
 flesh-tints are all mixed with vermilion, which 
 gives a wonderful and almost unnatural freshness ?' 
 
 * But I like this wonderful freshness,' said Arthur. 
 'Unfortunately, however,' observed Nora, 'time 
 
 fades, or perhaps changes, some colours and darkens 
 others, while the vermilion remains bright and 
 glaring.' 
 
 ' You — vou don't mean to say that you have 
 
188 TO MARRY, — OR NOT TO MARRY, — 
 
 the audacity to depreciate Rubens ! ' cried Arthur, 
 laughing. 
 
 She nodded her head, and then said, ' The colos- 
 sal proportions of his women I cannot admire, and 
 the too great use of vermilion I cannot approve ; 
 but remember I don't want to force this opinion on 
 you, it is altogether the result of my own experience 
 and observation, and I may be altogether in 
 error/ 
 
 * My nymphs have lost the power to charm me at 
 all events,' rejoined Arthur, taking advantage of 
 some new arrivals to pass out of the room ; and 
 when they reached the street, he said gaily, ' Come, 
 Nora, let us take a drive in the Park, and you 
 shall also have a short walk in Kensington Gar- 
 dens.' 
 
 Nora made no objection. She was amused and 
 pleased, and giving words to every idea that pre- 
 sented itself to her mind, so delighted her com- 
 panion that he resolved to enjoy again and frequently 
 the same pleasure. That day at dinner he pro- 
 posed taking her on the following one to see West- 
 minster Abbey ; and though Mr. Nixon was too 
 much pleased with her opinion of the picture to 
 make any objection, Arthur prudently waited after- 
 wards for some days before he observed, with well- 
 assumed indifference, * that he had an hour to spare 
 on Wednesday, if she still wished to see St. Paul's.' 
 Unobserved by Nora, the invitations were subse- 
 quently given when his father was not present ; 
 
THAT IS THE QUESTIOX. 189 
 
 there was something new to be seen continually, and 
 three or four times every week Arthur's cabriolet 
 whirled her from Eussell-square to Hyde Park, 
 Kensington, the Zoological Gardens, or wherever 
 the crowd was greatest and gayest. 
 
 Arthur asked her one morning, if she had any 
 inclination to go to the Royal Academy, in Trafal- 
 gar-square, and receiving a joyous assent, as she 
 sprang lightly into his cab, they drove there. He 
 had been a good deal gratified at the sort of sensa- 
 tion which her appearance with him so frequently 
 in the Park had created among his acquaintances, 
 but he had taken care never to allow any of them 
 an opportunity of speaking to him, when she was 
 present, and to the questions afterwards asked him, 
 he gave such short unwilling answers that a very 
 considerable degree of curiosity had been excited. 
 It was so late in the season, that he had not expected 
 to meet any of these inquisitive persons, and his an- 
 noyance was, therefore, great, when, after an hour of 
 pleasant loitering and discussion with Nora, he per- 
 ceived a group of well-known inveterate loungers 
 enter. Scarcely bestowing a glance on the well- 
 furnished walls, they scanned with astonishing 
 rapidity the appearance of every person within 
 sight, occasionally uttering a few indistinct but as 
 it seemed significant monosyllables to each other, 
 as they strutted along, feeling or fancying themselves 
 the ' observed of all observers.' Arthur's first incli- 
 nation was to seize Nora's arm, and attempt an 
 
190 TO MARRY, — OR NOT TO MARRY, — 
 
 escape, but there were two among them of rather 
 enterprising dispositions who had already threatened 
 to force an introduction to his fair incognita the 
 first convenient opportunity, and he therefore whis- 
 pered to her hurriedly, ' I see a lot of men of my 
 acquaintance, to whom I must speak — it wouldn't 
 do to introduce them to you, so go on quietly look- 
 ing at the pictures, without turning round, and 
 when you have reached the door stand still and I 
 shall join you instantly.' 
 
 Nora did as she was desired, undisturbed by the 
 English cause of uneasiness, the ' being without a 
 gentleman,' for her recollection of foreign galleries, 
 where the appearance of a woman alone merely 
 leads to the supposition that she has come to study, 
 prevented her from feeling either annoyance or 
 embarrassment. But her quiet self-possession, joined 
 to such evident youth, the graceful, fashionably 
 dressed figure, without the appendage of a protector, 
 so necessary in London, soon made her as much an 
 object of impertinent curiosity as admiration, and be- 
 fore long she found herself, to her infinite surprise, 
 surrounded by a number of men, some of whom 
 continued to follow her from place to place, with 
 an assiduity that astonished without in the least 
 alarming her. Those nearest her were well dressed 
 and elderly, and the one who had secured a place 
 at her left elbow, was a particularly stout fatherly- 
 looking sort of personage, with a grave face, and 
 very grey hair. Nora felt quite comfortable in the 
 
THAT IS THE QUESTION. 191 
 
 vicinity of so much respectability, until a low voice 
 which seemed to come from the grey head, slowly 
 pronounced the words ' Are you Maria ? ' 
 
 She did not answer — he had mistaken her for 
 some one else, would perceive his error and go 
 away. 
 
 But he did not go away, on the contrary, he 
 came still nearer, and again, in a mysterious 
 whisper, repeated the words, ' Are — you — Maria ? ' 
 
 * No !' she answered, turning to the querist a face 
 in which amazement was so legible that the bystand- 
 ders with difficulty suppressed their laughter, and 
 Nora, blushing at the unexpected rudeness of her 
 much-respected countrymen, sought refuge at the 
 place near the door assigned her by Arthur. He 
 joined her immediately, and they were soon on their 
 way to his new house, which he had promised to 
 show her. She related what had just occurred, but 
 Arthur was apparently so occupied with his 
 house that he answered not a word, and wondering 
 at his taciturnity she added, ' Had the old gentleman 
 asked me if my name were Brown or Smith, I 
 should not have thought it so odd, but inquiries 
 about one's Christian name is certainly rather un- 
 common !' 
 
 ' Very,' said Arthur. 
 
 ' Perhaps the man was mad,' suggested Nora. 
 
 'By no means impossible,' he responded. 
 
 'I am beginning to think,' she continued, 'that 
 some things abroad are better that in England.' 
 
192 TO MARRY, — OR XOT TO MARRY, — 
 
 ' Picture galleries for instance,' observed Arthur. 
 
 ' Yes,' she answered thoughtfully, ' and the man- 
 ners and habits of those who frequent them. People 
 there look less at each other, and longer at the 
 pictures ; and works of art have a sort of .current 
 value w^hich makes them universally respected even 
 by the ignorant — much as jewels of high price and 
 ingots of gold would be here.' 
 
 ' Far be it from me to attempt a defence of either 
 our galleries or their visitors,' said Arthur, laughing, 
 ' rather let me point out to you the delightful com- 
 forts of the interior of our houses — see this is mine 
 and,' he added, drawing up his horse, ' and strange 
 to say, Nora, the only property I possess in the 
 world ; this my father gave me as a rew^ard for 
 implicit obedience a few wrecks ago, but for the 
 means of living in it I am still altogether dependent 
 on him.' 
 
 ' The dependence of a son upon a very indulgent 
 father is easily borne, I should think,' answered 
 Nora, wdth a smile, as she walked up the steps to 
 the hall-door. 
 
 On the staircase she would have stopped to 
 admire a conservatory, but he hurried her forward 
 to one of the drawing-rooms, not giving her time 
 to look round her until she had reached a wdndow 
 there. 
 
 * Oh, how light, how airy, how cheerful !' she 
 exclaimed, eagerly. ' London at the West End — is 
 not that what vou call it ? and London at — at — 
 
THAT IS THE QUESTION. 193 
 
 in the middle, are as different as — day and 
 night.' 
 
 ' Ahnost,' said Arthur, thoughtfully, ' I wish I 
 were less conscious of the difference.' 
 
 ' Wish no such thing,' said Nora, ' you possess 
 this house, and should rather desire to be able to 
 enjoy it to the fullest extent.' 
 
 ' But I must do so alone, or with a companion 
 chosen by my father.' 
 
 ' Not exactly,' said Nora; quietly, *for I believe 
 he requires nothing but rank, and you are free to 
 choose among the nobility of England. Not a 
 very hard fate, I should think.' 
 
 ' And yet, Nora,' he answered, gloomily, ' I 
 have lately begun bitterly to regret not having a 
 profession, or rather not having joined my father 
 in business. I should have been, by this time, in 
 all probability, either quite independent, or a 
 partner in his house, and, in either case, able to 
 marry the only woman I can ever really love.* 
 
 He paused ; but Nora made no attempt to answer, 
 and he continued — ' Obtaining my father's consent 
 to this marriage is out of the question — to await 
 his death would be odious.' 
 
 ' Very,' said Nora, perceiving that he paused 
 more determinately than before. 
 
 ' Oh, if ever I have a son — ' he began, pas- 
 sionatelv. 
 
 * If you have,' said Nora, interrupting him, 
 ' you will act precisely as your father is now doing. 
 
 VOL. I. 
 
194 TO MARRY, — OR NOT TO MARRY, — 
 
 Your son and son's son must seek connexion, until 
 the name of Nixon has made itself of note, or be- 
 come but the family name of a noble house ; such 
 is the open or covert ambition of all rich rising 
 men like you in this free country of ours. Your 
 father is already in treaty for the purchase of 
 landed property ; you acquiesce in his well-devised 
 plans, and are not one bit in earnest when you 
 speak as you have just now done.' 
 
 ' You wrong me, Nora ; I am in earnest — now 
 — understand me — to-day — this day — to-morrow, 
 perhaps — that is, after having given my father a 
 solemn promise never to marry without his con- 
 sent, I shall be put in actual possession of a noble 
 fortune, but bound in a manner that may — that 
 will blast my future domestic happiness. I have 
 planned this opportunity to speak to you alone 
 without the chance of interruption, in order to ask 
 your advice, while I am still at liberty to mar or 
 make mv own fate.' 
 
 ' And why ask the advice of so inexperienced a 
 person as I am ?' asked Nora, almost coldly, for 
 the eager, inquiring expression of Arthur's face 
 made her suspect he was putting her feelings to- 
 wards him to the test. 
 
 ' Because I place the most implicit reliance on 
 your intellect and good sense.' 
 
 ' And,' said Nora, gravely, 'supposing me to 
 possess these estimable qualities, do you think it 
 possible that I would venture to give you advice ? 
 
THAT IS THE QUESTIOX. 195 
 
 Should I not prove myself wanting in both by the 
 mere attempt ?' 
 
 ' No — for I see that you perfectly understand 
 my position in the world, my habits, and dispo- 
 sition. From you, educated abroad, I have no 
 fear of hearing English twaddle about a home, and 
 cheerful firesides, contentment, domestic bliss, and 
 so forth.' 
 
 ' Yet I have dreamed of all this,' said Nora, 
 ' as much, perhaps more, than many an English- 
 woman who has never left her home/ 
 
 ^ You have !' cried Arthur, eagerly. * Then 
 you think that you — that I — that we — I mean 
 that a man brought up as I have been, and w^th 
 my expectations, could be happy in poverty with 
 the companion of his choice ? You think that 
 luxurious habits can be overcome, visions of am- 
 bition pushed aside, the longing to be of import- 
 ance in the world of fashion altogether subdued — 
 for oh, Nora, I am ashamed to confess, that this 
 last would be to me the hardest task of all !' 
 
 ' Is then the love of fashion so inveterate T she 
 asked. 
 
 ' Almost inextinguishable among the upper 
 classes of the inhabitants of cities,' answered 
 Arthur. ' No weakness, no folly, is so prevalent 
 as this, which, like a moral pest, infects the 
 soundest understandings, and not unfrequently 
 prostrates even genius itself! But why,' he 
 added, impatiently, ' why talk to you of what 
 
196 TO MARRY, — OR NOT TO MARRY, — 
 
 you cannot possibly comprehend ? Why force 
 on your notice my own weaknesses or the ab- 
 surdities of a world still unknown to you ?' 
 
 ' Not so unknown as you suppose,' said Nora; 
 ' young as I was, the struggles of my father and 
 mother to get into, what is called, the best society 
 abroad, were perfectly evident to me — were made 
 so by the presentations at Court, the introductory 
 letters to the different ministers, residents, or am- 
 bassadors, some of whom were civil to us, some 
 not; in the one case we were induced to live 
 beyond our means, in the other, we shortened our 
 stay, exceedingly disgusted at the inhospitality and 
 unkindness of people wdio were given their places, 
 as miy father continually affirmed, for no other 
 purpose than to assert the rights of British sub- 
 jects, and be polite to travelling English people ! 
 At the best, however, it was a miserably unsatis- 
 factory sort of life. Mamma often complained, that 
 she had not a friend in the world, that she spent 
 her life getting introduced to people who invited 
 her to their balls and routs, but never spoke a 
 word beyond the mere civilities of society, shower- 
 ing visiting cards upon her without asking if she 
 were at home, and sliding past' her with a " Bon 
 soir, madame,'' when they met her elsewhere.' 
 
 ' I suppose she talked over all these things in 
 your presence,' observed Arthur. 
 
 ' Of course,' said Nora, ' and without the slightest 
 reserve. I remember quite adoring the people 
 
THAT IS THE QUESTIOX. 197 
 
 whom she rather liked, and intensely hating those 
 who had been rude to her : for my own part, I was, 
 as a child, singularly fortunate, being not unfre- 
 quently the playmate of various little royal and 
 serene highnesses, and feeling^ I assure you, im- 
 mensely flattered at the distinction. From all, 
 however, that I have heard from mamma and her 
 visitors, I believe there must be a great deal of 
 envy, hatred, malice, and all uncharitableness, in 
 this world of fashion that you prize so highly.' 
 
 ' No doubt of it, Nora, no doubt of it. Mais^ que 
 voulez-vous ? I have laboured for years, and not 
 unsuccessfully, to obtain some rank in it ; to sup- 
 port rank of any kind and anywhere, money is 
 necessary ; married, I require more than single — 
 so you see, dear girl — ' 
 
 'I see,' she observed, with a smile, 'that you 
 want no advice from me, or any one else, having 
 already made up your mind on the subject.' 
 
 ' Don't speak so lightly and look so cheerful, 
 Nora,' cried Arthur, greatly displeased; 'that is, 
 if you would not have me think you totally heart- 
 less!' 
 
 Nora's short upper lip became still shorter as 
 she shrugged her shoulders and turned away, with 
 a slightly contemptuous smile. 
 
 'Nora, what do you mean?' he cried, catching 
 her hand. 
 
 But she had so completely understood him 
 from the beginning, and so well managed to avoid 
 
198 TO MARRY, — OR XOT TO MARRY. 
 
 betraying consciousness, that she now greatly 
 desired to end the conference. 
 
 ' Nothing, nothing,' she answered hastily. ' It 
 is late^ Arthur. Let us go home.' 
 
 As she leaned back silently in the corner of 
 the cab, she thought to herself, ' The fear of 
 paining his father, or the thought of having acted 
 dishonourably towards me, has had no weight with 
 him. Is he thoroughly selfish, or — or — is this the 
 way of the world ?' 
 
( 1^9 ) 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 ALL SEREXE. 
 
 This explanation (for such he chose to consider it) 
 afforded Arthur great rehef of mind ; he was quite 
 unconscious of the insufficiency and selfishness of 
 his excuses ; and on his way home planned a con- 
 tinuation of his former pleasant intercourse with 
 his cousin, under the name of friendship. 
 
 Nora, however, began quietly, and at first im- 
 pereptibly, to avoid him. When he returned 
 home before his father, she retired to the long, 
 low building that extended nearly the length of 
 the garden wall towards the stables, the greater 
 portion of which was in possession of Mrs. Ducker, 
 under the name of store and housekeeper rooms. 
 The apartment which she occupied was rather 
 gloomy, and not rendered more cheerful by its 
 green paper, representing luxuriant vine-leaves, or 
 its wide, iron-barred windows. Here, hoAvever, Nora 
 contrived to amuse herself very satisfactorily with 
 a canary-bird, that had been born and bred in the 
 large green cage that rested on the rickety work- 
 table. A cheerful little animal it was, this canarv- 
 bird 5 and Nora having assisted in rearing it, not a 
 
200 ALL SERENE. 
 
 particle of fear, or even timidity, was perceptible 
 in its play with her : it hopped on her arm and 
 shoulder, pecked grain from her lips, was despe- 
 rately jealous when she took notice of the other 
 birds, stretching out impatiently its quivering 
 wings, and twittering in a melancholy, reproachful 
 manner, being afterwards proportionately happy 
 and flattered when she showered kisses and caresses 
 on it, and seizing the first opportunity to perch on 
 the top of the looking-glass, or the handle of a 
 work-basket, there to stretch its little throat almost 
 to bursting while warbling a song of ecstasy. 
 
 To Anne Ducker's room, however, Arthur 
 began not unfrequently to follow Nora, feeling 
 himself peculiarly at home and unrestrained there, 
 surrounded by the well-known, old-fashioned fur- 
 niture of his nursery, a choice collection of his 
 former playthings serving for chimney-piece orna- 
 ments, and the high wire-work fender, though 
 freshly-painted, still bearing evident marks of the 
 violent kicks bestowed on it by him in various 
 fits of juvenile rage. The book-shelves, too, 
 brought crowds of old remembrances to his mind ; 
 beside the large-print Bible and Prayer-book, there 
 were still the well-known copies of ' The Mysteries 
 of Udolpho,' ' The Children of the Abbey,' and 
 the awful and never-to-be-forgotten * Tales of 
 Wonder.' Some of these last had made a terrible 
 impression on his youthful mind, and caused him 
 many sleepless nights \ his recollection of them, 
 
ALL SERENE. 201 
 
 as read aloud by Anne Ducker in a nasal, melan- 
 choly tone, while he sat perched beside her on his 
 high chair, was so vivid that they had become fix- 
 tares in his memory for life. He could repeat, with 
 provoking accuracy, 'Alonzo the Brave and the 
 Fair Imogene,' remembered the ever-renewed 
 horror with which he had awaited the words, 
 'Behold me, thou false one,' addressed by the 
 dead Alonzo to the faithless Imogene, as she sat 
 at her marriage-feast, the bride of another. The 
 story of Budiger had had something more person- 
 ally interesting for the anxious-eyed, open-mouthed 
 boy, who breathlessly listened to the recital of the 
 cruel father proposing to give his only son, instead 
 of himself, to Beelzebub. But Anne Ducker's 
 favourite tale was 'The Maid of the Inn,' begin- 
 ning— 
 
 ' Who is she, the poor maniac, whose wildly fixed eye,' &c. &c. 
 
 and relating how the said maid went out by moon- 
 light, and beheld a corpse carried by murderers, 
 one of whom drops his hat, which she picks up, and 
 
 ' the 'at of her Richard she knew !' 
 
 All this, and much more, had Arthur related to 
 Nora, ending with a dissertation on the cruelty 
 of reading or relating such tales to children, who, 
 almost always endowed with vivid imaginations, 
 recalled them when left alone at night, suffering, in 
 consequence, frightful paroxysms of shivering fear. 
 
o 
 
 02 ALL SEREXE. 
 
 and glowing terror. For his part, if ever he had 
 a child likely to visit Mrs. Anne, he should con- 
 sider it both a duty and a pleasure to consign to 
 the flames volumes so destructive of sleep, and 
 suggestive of painful dreams. 
 
 In the vicinity of Anne Ducker, Arthur seemed 
 to return to his boyhood ; he sat on the table at 
 the window, swinging his legs, and gazing com- 
 placently into the dismal, high-walled, little garden, 
 while making jesting remarks on the rank grass, 
 stunted gooseberry-bushes, and smutty London- 
 pride and pensees, that contended for the honour of 
 forming a border to the flower-bed ; or he peeped 
 into cupboards, and stole guava jelly, tamarinds, 
 and preserved ginger ; or, opportunity and an open 
 drawer favouring him, he dressed himself in the 
 antiquated, carefully-hoarded silk garments and 
 pyramidal-crowned bonnets, mounting afterwards, 
 with Nora's assistance, to the top of some high 
 press, and awaiting, with a look of mtense glee, 
 the return of Anne, who invariably threatened 
 vengeance, and scolded loudly, while it was easy to 
 perceive that she was not a little flattered at the 
 liberties taken with her, and was more than willing 
 to have these troublesome children, as she called 
 them, in her room on any terms. 
 
 It must be confessed that Nora was sorry, when 
 it occurred to her, that spending an hour with her 
 cousin quietly in the study w^as far less objection- 
 able, in their relative positions, than the same time 
 
ALL SEREXE. 203 
 
 passed in the very free-and-easy intercourse of 
 Anne Ducker's room — a freedom which seemed to 
 increase from day to day, for Arthur could be 
 amusing when he chose : he sang scraps of songs, 
 imitated actors, actresses, popular orators, and all 
 his friends and acquaintances — men, women, and 
 children — sparing, as Nora laughingly observed, 
 neither age nor sex, but making himself so enter- 
 taining, that one day, after having carried on for 
 some time a suppositious conversation between his 
 uncle Gilbert and cousin Georgina, Nora asked 
 him if he had been able to steer clear of all the 
 absurdities he ridiculed so unmercifully ; and de- 
 sired to know what sort of person he was himself 
 in society. 
 
 ' Nothing very brilliant,' he replied, with perfect 
 sincerity. 
 
 ' But you are feared, most probably,' suggested 
 Nora, ' on account of this extraordinary power of 
 imitation that you possess.' 
 
 ' Why no, for I reserve the talent, if such it may 
 be called, for the amusement of my most intimate 
 friends, being well aware that it is no sign of genius, 
 quite opposed to originality, and usually the re- 
 source of mediocre intellects. In society, I believe, 
 I generally affect a mixtureof the blase and cynical, 
 having found it the easiest mode of procuring a 
 sort of respect from fops and fools.' 
 
 ' But you are not really either the one or the 
 other ?' she asked. 
 
204 ALL SEREXE. 
 
 'No — if I had not become a votary of the 
 phantom, Fashion, and had not been encouraged in 
 my worship by my father, I beUeve I should have 
 been a respectable hard-working man, with some 
 qualities of head and heart that might have won me 
 what are called " golden opinions," and, perhaps, 
 also, a larger portion of your esteem than I have 
 now the faintest hope of ever obtaining.' 
 
 Nora did not choose to continue the conversa- 
 tion. She placed her bird in its cage, again 
 played with it for a few minutes, and then left the 
 room. 
 
 That day, at dessert, Mr. Nixon informed his 
 son that he had completed the arrangements for the 
 purchase of the estate in Suffolk, and that it should 
 be his on the day of his marriage. 
 
 * And not before ?' asked Arthur, pretending to 
 jest, but evidently surprised and offended. * I under- 
 stand that a promise on my part — ' 
 
 'I have been advised,' said Mr. Nixon, inter- 
 rupting him, — ' advised by your uncle Gilbert to 
 trust no man, not even my own son. He said 
 he considered it a foolish thing, under any circum- 
 stances, my resigning so much property to you, 
 and making you so completely independent during 
 my lifetime ; but with my views it is unavoidable ; 
 and, indeed, until very lately, I never doubted that 
 our wishes and intentions on all subjects were 
 perfectly similar.' 
 
 Arthur's face became crimson, he pushed away 
 
ALL SEREXE. 205 
 
 bis plate, threw himself back in his chair, crossed 
 his legs, and while impatiently moving backwards 
 and forwards the upper one, observed, * Oh then 
 in fact I am precisely in my old position — that is, 
 if my uncle Gilbert permit you to continue the 
 liberal allowance which I have hitherto enjoyed. 
 I had no idea that his advice had such weight with 
 you, or I should have cultivated his acquaintance 
 more assiduously of late, though he is such an 
 ignorant, pompous noodle !' 
 
 ' He is a very shrewd man of business,' said Mr. 
 Nixon, frowning, ' and this very day realized no less 
 than twenty thousand pounds in railway shares. I 
 greatly regret not having joined him in the specu- 
 lation, and intend to take his advice without 
 hesitation on such occasions in future.' 
 
 * Do so, by all means,' said Arthur; ' but I request 
 he may never again interfere between us.' 
 
 * I am afraid he knows you better than I do, 
 Arthur ; he has seen you more frequently than you 
 suppose.' 
 
 ' And,' observed Arthur, sneeringly, ' and is 
 offended at my not stopping to speak to him, most 
 probably !' 
 
 ' Ah,' said Nora, ' then it teas my uncle we saw 
 in the Park — that day — you know, Arthur — ' 
 
 She stopped, instinctively feeling that something 
 was wrong ; her uncle looked at her sharply, and 
 said, stiffly, ' Young Plumpton, too, saw you every 
 day.' 
 
206 ALL SEREXE. 
 
 'It seems you have been making inquiries,' 
 said Arthur, flushing with anger. 
 
 ' I heard more than I wished without asking a 
 question,' answered his father. 
 
 'I don't think I can stand being watched and 
 schooled in this manner,' continued Arthur, with 
 increasing irritation ; ' so, if you have no objection, 
 sir, I shall leave England to-morrow.' 
 
 ' Do so, Arthur,' cried his father, quickly, — ' do 
 so. The very proposal on your part is reassuring, 
 and dispels at once my doubts and fears. I now 
 feel convinced that you have not deceived me, or — 
 or — betrayed yourself — in short that you have acted 
 honourably and kept your promise.' 
 
 Arthur shrugged his shoulders, drew his plate 
 towards him, and as he bent over it observed, 
 bitterly, ' I am still for sale if that be what you 
 mean. Next time we must manage matters in a 
 more business-like manner, as, were I thrown on 
 your hands again, I should fall immensely in value. 
 As it is, I think we might now be satisfied with an 
 Honourable Blanche or Beatrix.' 
 
 ' Arthur !' said his father, reproachfully. 
 
 And a silence ensued, during which, uneasy and 
 feeling uncomfortably conscious, Nora left the 
 room. 
 
 Four-and-twenty hours afterwards, Arthur was 
 on his way to Baden Baden, his rooms were closed 
 up, and Nora and her uncle sat in. the study, 
 sipping their tea and reading alternately, to all 
 
ALL SERENE. 207 
 
 appearance as if nothing had ever occurred to 
 interrupt the even tenor of their lives. Mr. Nixon 
 felt perfectly contented ; his son was out of the 
 reach of the dark eyes and bright smile that, even 
 he, as he glanced occasionally over his tea-cup, 
 began to suspect might reasonably put a man's 
 prudence to the test: he and Arthur, too, had 
 parted in perfect amity, and he had little doubt 
 that the wish for independence would induce him, 
 before long, to think again of marriage. Nora's 
 feelings were of a less satisfactory description, when 
 the door had closed that morning on her cousin ; 
 her uncle's house had once more assumed, in 
 her eyes, the aspect of a prison, the little liberty 
 she had enjoyed having served but to make her 
 more impatient of her thraldom. She had become 
 perfectly aware of the insurmountable obstacles 
 that separated her from a world of luxurious enjoy- 
 ment and brilliant gaiety, and if her intellect 
 prevented her from exaggerating the pleasures 
 of which she was deprived, her education had 
 at least taught her to appreciate some of them 
 more highly than they deserved. She made one 
 desperate, energetic effort to induce her uncle to 
 move nearer to his brother, but failing completely, 
 she once more resigned herself to solitude and 
 study, sincerely hoping that nothing would again 
 occur to disturb either. 
 
 A few months later, Mr. Nixon informed her 
 that Arthur was engaged to be married to Lady 
 
208 ALL SEEENE. 
 
 Trebleton, the widowed daughter of the Marquis of 
 Witherington. 
 
 *Was it not froDi her that you bought his 
 house?' she asked, perceiving he expected her to j 
 say something. "^ 
 
 'Yes. He writes that he supposes she had 
 accepted him in order to get possession of it again ; 
 but he informs me also, towards the end of his 
 letter, that she has confessed she would have 
 married him seven years ago had he asked her 
 before Lord Trebleton.' 
 
 Nora remembered having heard Arthur make 
 some remark to this effect, and also his having said 
 that she w^as young and handsome. 
 
 ' Very handsome,' said Mr. Nixon, ' and as they 
 are to be married immediately, and do not return 
 to England until spring, Arthur has sent me her 
 picture in miniature.' 
 
 With undisguised interest Nora examined the 
 portrait placed before her by her uncle : it was that 
 of an extremely pretty woman of about five or six- 
 and-twenty, magnificently dressed, and all her 
 personal advantages so judiciously displayed that 
 it was impossible not to suspect her possessed of 
 more than a common portion of coquetry. Yet it 
 was a pleasant insinuating countenance, and Mr. 
 Nixon was supremely satisfied with it ; he talked 
 of his son's choice doing him credit, of the double 
 connexion acquired among the Witheringtons and 
 Trebletons, doubted not that Arthur's house would 
 
ALL SEREXE. 200 
 
 become one of the most fashionable in London — 
 Lord Trebleton's had been so, whose fortune had 
 not been so large as Arthur's would be — rank was 
 a good thing, riches better, both together ruled the 
 world — he wondered what Gilbert would say ? 
 
 Gilbert, who had not unsuccessfully studied the 
 peerage for some years, and knew the family name 
 and arms of every nobleman in the United King- 
 dom, w^as a good deal amazed, and expressed in- 
 finite satisfaction at the prospect of a marriage 
 which, as he expressed it, would give them all a 
 ' lift' in the quarter where they most wanted it. 
 A fortnight afterwards, however, he drew his 
 brother aside, and whispered that he had better 
 limit Arthur's power over the estate in Suffolk, for 
 that he had heard that Lady Trebleton could 
 spend money faster than most men could make 
 it, and Arthur had never been in the habit of 
 denying himself any gratification that wealth could 
 procure. 
 
 VOL. I. 
 
( 210 ) 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 SEVEN YEARS LATER. 
 
 Few things are more difficult than in the space of 
 six or eight lines to give the idea of the lapse of as 
 many years. Were we to follow the career of 
 Arthur Nixon, some events, though of no particular 
 interest, might be found to mark the passage of 
 time ; but his fate, it is to be hoped, can only 
 interest the reader inasmuch as it affected that of 
 Nora, and this was at first very little — apparently. 
 He returned to England with his wife, who imme- 
 diately repaired to Russell-square, and effectually 
 gained her father-in-law's heart by a freedom from 
 affectation and an ease of manner that delighted 
 him beyond measure. She dined with him on all 
 the great church festivals, and also on his birth- 
 day ; invited him to her house with persevering 
 assiduity ; and though he almost invariably, and 
 with polite formality, refused the invitations, he 
 liked to receive them, and to be able to think and 
 say, that the first society in England was accessible 
 to him whenever he chose. Unable to conceal his 
 satisfaction, he pointed out to Nora with triumph- 
 
SEVEX YEARS LATER. 211 
 
 ant mien, the paragraphs in the papers describ- 
 ing the dinners, balls, and soirees given during 
 each succeeding season by his son and daughter-in- 
 law; but that was all she ever knew about them, 
 for Lady Trebleton's first invitation to her had been 
 refused by her uncle in a manner to prevent a re- 
 petition. 
 
 Arthur, in the course of time^ entered parlia- 
 ment, but proved a less brilliant member than had 
 been expected ; he was useful and hardworking ; 
 and as such men, though necessary, are seldom 
 valued as they deserve, after having been passed 
 over on various occasions when he hoped for and 
 expected place and power, he became disgusted 
 with, and retired altogether from public life, seeking, 
 unfortunately, occupation in the indulgence of one 
 of the most expensive fancies of the present day — 
 building. Not satisfied with the handsome old 
 house on his recently purchased estate, he com- 
 menced erecting an edifice which was to make 
 Morris Court one of the handsomest places in 
 England. Magnificent it was when completed, but 
 — Arthur had become an embarrassed man, he 
 furnished it splendidly, and found himself deeply in 
 debt. Lady Trebleton, who had never for a mo- 
 ment thought of making the slightest retrenchment 
 in her town establishment, and whose inclinations 
 and habits were of the most expensive description, 
 continued, with a levity incomprehensible to prudent 
 minds, to give dinners and balls as long as she could 
 
212 SEYEX YEARS LATER. 
 
 find tradesmen willing to supply her various wants. 
 Many were the plans resorted to by both to 
 procure money *, but their efforts were abruptly 
 terminated by the arrest of Arthur one afternoon for 
 a few hundred pounds, which, serving as a signal to 
 his other creditors, so many detainers were lodged 
 against him, and for such large sums of money, 
 that his father, on hearing it the next day, was 
 struck with palsy and taken home more dead than 
 alive. On regaining consciousness and the partial 
 use of his arms, Mr. Nixon sent for his partner, 
 Plumpton, and made the necessary arrangements 
 for paying his son's debts, and restoring him to 
 freedom. In the immediately subsequent meeting, 
 Arthur was received without a word of reproach, 
 but the sight of his father's shaking head and para- 
 lysed limbs so overcame him, that he burst into an 
 uncontrollable passion of tears and was long quite 
 inconsolable. Nora, whose presence had been 
 desired by both, at length found means to tran- 
 quillize her cousin's grief and uncle's agitation, and 
 induce them to discuss calmly the state of their 
 affairs. Arthur insisted on selling the house in 
 town as well as Morris Court ; and Mr. Nixon heard 
 with surprise and satisfaction his son's declaration, 
 that he intended to reside in Russell-square, and 
 supply his father's place at the office as long as 
 might be necessary. 
 
 ' But your wife, Arthur — your wife — what will 
 Lady Trebelton say ?' 
 
SEVEN YEARS LATER. 213 
 
 ' Very little,' he answered, she proposes remain- 
 ing in Paris until I join her.' 
 
 ' Do you not think she would like to come here 
 if my uncle wrote to her ?' asked Nora. 
 
 ' No,' sighed Arthur ; 'Alice could not live here, 
 — nothing would induce me to make such a request 
 to her ; but if she remain in Paris, I can cross the 
 Channel occasionally, and, in point of fact, see her 
 quite as often as during these last three years, 
 which you know I have spent almost entirely at 
 Morris Court. 
 
 ' I supposed her very much attached to you — ' 
 began Mr. Nixon, gravely. 
 
 'Oh, well, so she is,' said Arthur, 'and I like 
 her too — amazingly. All things considered, w^e 
 got on very well together ; but aw — she likes 
 living in the world, and being admired, and all 
 that sort of thing — and even if she did consent to 
 come here for a time, she w^ould disturb you and 
 put the house in confusion with her eternal visitors, 
 and, in all probability, go out every night, and 
 return home late — and, in short, it would never 
 answer.' 
 
 Mr. Nixon was silent, and seldom spoke of her 
 afterwards. He soon recovered sufficiently to be 
 able to get up and be moved down stairs, where the 
 dining-room was converted into a sleeping-apart- 
 ment, and he could be rolled into the study in a 
 chair ; but months passed over without the slightest 
 further change in his state becoming apparent, and 
 
214 SEVEN YEARS LATER. 
 
 he grew captious at last, and impatient, and greatly 
 worried poor Xora, now his constant companion. 
 Eagerly she daily watched the return of Arthur 
 from the city, his presence alone having the power of 
 restoring her uncle's equanimity, and gladly she left 
 them after dinner to discuss their complicated affairs, 
 Mr. Xixon requiring the most accurate information 
 on every subject. Arthur, wholly bent on satisfying 
 his father, devoted himself completely to business, 
 and so successfully, that he already began to rival his 
 uncle Gilbert in fortunate speculations. The exulta- 
 tion of Mr. Nixon on these occasions was unbounded, 
 he shook his son's hand every ten minutes, drank 
 his health in champagne, and encouraged him to 
 go on while fortune favoured him. And he did go 
 on ; but while doing so undermined his health com- 
 pletely. The sedentary work at his office, the 
 constant mental excitement, and the climate of 
 London, proved in the end too much for one who 
 had hitherto led a life so different. He caught 
 cold, neglected it, became hectic, and after having 
 refused to consult the family physician or use any 
 of Anne Ducker's remedies, quietly told Nora one 
 evening as they sat alone together, that he believed 
 he was — dying. 
 
 At first she thought him jesting, but when he 
 told her that his mother and all his maternal uncles 
 and aunts had been the victims of consumption 
 before the age of thirty, and that he had already 
 in early youth been threatened with the treacherous 
 
SEVEX YEAKS LATER. 215 
 
 disease, she entreated of him to see some eminent 
 physician and not treat so serious a matter lightly. 
 
 * I have already been to Dr. X — , who gives me 
 just one winter if I remain here ; but promises me 
 a tolerable lease of life in a warmer climate.' 
 
 *Then, Arthur, you must leave England this 
 year — at once.' 
 
 * Impossible, Nora ; my presence just now is of 
 the greatest importance.' 
 
 ' I have no doubt of that ; but if my uncle for a 
 moment suspected that it was attended with danger 
 to your life, he would urge — insist on your leaving 
 him.' 
 
 ' He would be incredulous, Nora — w^ould doubt 
 the danger, and think I was merely tired of work. 
 ]My proposal that we should close accounts with 
 Plumpton^ and retire altogether, was evidently 
 most offensive to him, and I shall never renew it.' 
 
 ' And for what purpose is he accumulating all 
 this money ?' asked Nora, impatiently. 
 
 'He says it is for me,' answered Arthur; 'and 
 had I a family I could, perhaps, understand him. 
 For my own part, my only wish is to replace what I 
 squandered on Morris Court, and that once accom- 
 plished, I am ready to — die ; for in good truth, 
 Nora, I have little left to make life desirable.' 
 
 ' Arthur, how can you say so !' 
 
 ' It is a melancholy fact,' he continued, drawing 
 his chair close to hers ; ' and now for once in my 
 life I wish to speak to you without reserve. My 
 
216 SEVEN YEARS LATER. 
 
 life, Nora, has be6n a failure — a 'complete failure. 
 I will not blame my father — he meant well ; but 
 my education was a mistake from beginning to end ; 
 yet, when it was supposed to be completed, I had 
 still time to redeem the past had I been so inclined, 
 instead of which I plunged into a life of folly, idle- 
 ness, and dissipation, and so frittered away my best 
 years in the pursuit of pleasure and novelty — mak- 
 ing acquaintances, valued solely by me for their 
 names, and by whom I was merely tolerated for 
 my wealth.' 
 
 ' Arthur, I cannot believe this either of you or 
 your acquaintances.' 
 
 'You may,' he said, dejectedly, 'for the excep- 
 tions were few, though I gloried at one time in 
 knowing " every one " in London ! Yet I was not 
 without intellect, Nora ; you may remember how I 
 scorned and condemned the life I was leading, 
 when we first met.' 
 
 Nora remembered that he had done so in words, 
 but not in acts, and could not give the ready assent 
 he perhaps expected : he observed her silence and 
 answered it. 
 
 ' Yes, Nora, I saw and understood my position per- 
 fectly,and think — in fact I am sure — that a marriage 
 with you then might have saved me from myself 
 
 ' Arthur !' 
 
 ' We are talking of what happened or might 
 have happened ages ago,' he continued quietly. 
 ' I don't say that you were in love with me, 
 
SEVEX YEARS LATER. 217 
 
 Nora ; but you liked me, and would have married 
 me.' 
 
 ' Not without your father's consent, Arthur ; and 
 having confessed so much, let us end this useless 
 retrospection/ 
 
 ' It is not useless,' he rejoined, gazing gloomily 
 into the fire. ' I loved you as I believe a man 
 seldom loves more than once in his life, and had my 
 father consented to our marriage — ' 
 
 ' Arthur,' said Nora, rising, ' I cannot listen to 
 you, if you talk in this way.' 
 
 ' I have done,' he answered : ' my father refused 
 his consent : without it we should have been poor ; 
 and I was an egotist — unworthy of you — incapable 
 of making a sacrifice even for — well — well — I 
 know — you would not have accepted me. Be it 
 so, and let me tell you, that was my last chance of 
 becoming a useful member of society — my life 
 since then has been a troubled dream.' 
 
 ' Not so,' said Nora, compassionately ; ' you 
 were of use to your country when in Parliament, 
 and — ' 
 
 'Merely served to fill the house,' he said, inter- 
 rupting her. ' I did the work that any paid official 
 could have done as well, gave my vote to those 
 whose political opinions coincided with mine, and 
 from whom I hoped, in time, to obtain place or 
 power ; and when I was disappointed, I retired to 
 Morris Court, to lead a still more worthless and 
 selfish life.* 
 
218 SEVEN YEARS LATER. 
 
 ' You judge yourself too severely,' interposed 
 Nora. 
 
 * Scarcely,' said Arthur, without looking up. 
 ' Of the thousands lavished on the house and fur- 
 niture intended for my own enjoyment, not one 
 guinea was spent on the improvement of my 
 tenantry. I kncAv nothing about them or their 
 wants or washes, understood nothing of agriculture 
 — what business had I with landed property? 
 Could. I but spend my life over again — or — part of 
 it ; could I, with my present experience, but return 
 to the time when we first met, what a different life 
 I should lead!' He paused, and then added, 'I 
 believe it is now seven years, Nora — seven years 
 and some months since we first sat together, as we 
 are doing now ?' 
 
 'Seven years,' she repeated, thoughtfully; 'how 
 long they were — how short they now appear ! ' 
 
 ' I remember our meeting on the stairs,' he 
 continued, ' and that first evening, as if it were but 
 yesterday. You were dressed in black velvet and 
 point lace — an odd dress for a girl of sixteen ; but 
 it made you look like one of those charming 
 pictures by the old masters on which one can gaze 
 for ever.' 
 
 ' The dear old dress !' said Nora, pensively •, ' it 
 would certainly appear less unsuitable to me now!' 
 
 'Yet you are wonderfully little changed,' said 
 Arthur ; ' and every perceptible alteration is for 
 the better.' 
 
SEVEN YEARS LATER. 219 
 
 Nora smiled. ' A great internal change has, I 
 hope, taken place,' she said, quietly ; 'I should be 
 sorry to think that seven or eight years' uninter- 
 rupted reading and meditation have been quite lost 
 upon me.' 
 
 ' That they have not been lost, I am sure,' 
 observed Arthur. ' With such a foundation as 
 you had to build upon, I have no doubt that by 
 this time your information and learning far exceed 
 those of most women,' 
 
 *I make no pretension whatever to learning,' 
 answered Nora ; ' and have, I assure you, only 
 arrived at a consciousness of my profound igno- 
 rance on the subjects I understand best, and at 
 not at all doubting it on all others.' 
 
 ' And this is the result of eight years' steady 
 reading in the three most literary modern lan- 
 guages !' said Arthur. 
 
 ' Not quite : I have learned the meaning of the 
 words, " Vanity of vanities, all is vanity." ' 
 
 * So have I,' said Arthur, with a sigh ; * but my 
 knowledge has been obtained by painful personal 
 experience.' 
 
 ' Some experience I have had, too,' observed 
 Nora ; ' without it, the words of the Preacher would 
 have made less impression on me : he says, " Of 
 making many books there is no end ; and much 
 study is a weariness of the flesh." ' 
 
 'Go on,' said Arthur. 
 
 She continued : ' Let us hear the conclusion of 
 
220 SEVEX YEARS LATER. 
 
 the whole matter — " Fear God, and keep his com- 
 mandments : for this is the whole duty of man." ' 
 
 At this moment the door opened, and Mr. Nixon, 
 in his chair, was slowly rolled towards the tea-table. 
 
 When Nora, the next day, was alone with her 
 micle, she spoke to him very seriously of Arthur's 
 state of health ; but found it extremely difficult to 
 make him believe that anything could be the 
 matter with a man so full of energy and activity 
 as his son. ' His cough ? that was constitutional. 
 No one was exempt from colds and coughs during 
 a London winter ; and she might remember what 
 he had himself suffered from the influenza the 
 preceding year, though he had never allow^ed it to 
 detain him one day from his office.' 
 
 Mr. Nixon was most unwilling to lose either his 
 son's services or society; in the end, however, 
 Nora's influence prevailed, and Arthur left them 
 to meet his wife at Strasburg, and spend the 
 winter and spring at Meran. 
 
 When taking leave, he spoke so long and so 
 warmly in praise of Nora to his father, that Mr. 
 Nixon at length said, ' I understand you, Arthur ; 
 you think I ought to make some small addition to 
 her fortune ?' 
 
 'Some great addition,' replied Arthur, earnestly; 
 she has devoted the best years of her life to you — 
 has been to you a daughter ; never think of her 
 hereafter in any other light' 
 
 From Nora he parted early in the morning, 
 
SEVEN YEARS LATER. 221. 
 
 before his father was up. She had made breakfast 
 for him in the study, and prepared to follow him 
 into the hall, when he stopped suddenly, turned 
 round, and said, ' You told me you had a com- 
 mission for me, Nora, in case I should go up the 
 Rhine, and, I think, even said I could confer a 
 great favour on you by undertaking it ; that your 
 saying this has been an inducement to me to choose 
 that route, I need scarcely assure you ; yet in the 
 pain of parting I had nearly forgotten all about it.' 
 
 'I — have changed my mind,' said Nora, with 
 evident embarrassment, * and prefer asking you to 
 undertake this commission for me when you are on 
 your way home/ 
 
 ' Nora, I may never return home, and that you 
 know as well as I do. You spoke of Dusseldorf, 
 where, I believe, your father lies buried ; speak 
 out, like the pious German girl that you are, and 
 tell me to visit his grave, and let you know in 
 what state it is. The commission will not make 
 me die one day sooner ; and I see by your face 
 that I have guessed it rightly.' 
 
 'Dear Arthur,' said Nora, wuth tears in her 
 eyes, *I shall be so much obliged to you if you 
 will perform this act of friendship. I have long 
 been in correspondence with the landlady of the 
 hotel where he died ; and as soon as I had saved 
 sufficient money to enable me to erect a monument, 
 I sent her a drawing of my mother's tombstone, 
 requesting her to have a similar one made for my 
 
222 SEVEX TEARS LATER. 
 
 father. It is this,' she added, taking a paper froi 
 her work-table ; * I should have preferred leaving 
 the space at the base altogether for flowers ; but 
 when no friends or relations are near to see that the 
 grave is properly cared for, and supplied with fresh 
 plants — ' 
 
 ' I know — I know,' said Arthur. ' The neglected 
 graves of the English in foreign churchyards have 
 always grieved me by their contrast to the others ; 
 but one has, at least, the certainty of being left 
 undisturbed to turn to dust there. For this 
 reason,' he added, mournfully, 'wherever my life 
 ends I shall be interred; and you, Nora, must 
 now promise me, before we part, to visit mi/ grave, 
 to have a tombstone such as this erected for 7ne, 
 to plant flowers at its base, and with your own 
 hands to place a wreath of evergreens on this orna- 
 ment so evidently made for the purpose. Will you 
 promise ?' 
 
 ' Life is uncertain, Arthur,' said Nora, making a 
 great effort to speak calmly ; ' but should I outlive 
 you — ■' She placed her hand in his and turned away. 
 
 ' Don't waste a tear on. me now, dear girl,' he 
 
 continued ; ' but bestow a few on the earth that 
 
 will cover me some — years hence, let us say ; for, 
 
 after all, if Alice take good care of me, who knows 
 
 but I may hold out as long as Lord Medway, who, 
 
 to my certain knowledge, has been dying these 
 
 eight or nine years !' 
 
 ****** 
 
SEVEN YEARS LATER. 223 
 
 Most unwillingly Nora wrote to recal Arthur 
 the following spring, when her uncle's declining 
 strength made his return home, for some time at 
 least, desirable. But they never met again ; for, 
 after a somewhat hurried journey through Tyrol, 
 he was obliged to stop at a village in the Bavarian 
 highlands, and there, after a few days' illness, 
 ended his life, and was buried, as he had desired, 
 in the tranquil churchyard of the place. His wife 
 returned to England, and related circumstantially 
 to the broken-hearted father every incident of his 
 last moments ; she was also the bearer of letters 
 from him to Nora, to remind her of her promise to 
 visit his grave — to his father, requesting him to 
 increase Lady Trebleton's jointure, and hoping he 
 would henceforward consider Nora his adopted 
 daughter, and provide for her as his now only 
 child. 
 
 When Nora showed the letter she had received 
 to her uncle, and spoke of her intention, at some 
 future time, to make a pilgrimage to the church at 
 Almenau ; he took both her hands, and answered, 
 with a solemnity that often afterwards recurred to 
 her memory, ' I shall take care to supply you with 
 money for the journey, Nora.' 
 
 Not long after she found herself, on his demise, 
 one of the richest heiresses in England, for, with 
 the exception of some legacies to the servants, 
 her uncle had left her everything he possessed. 
 The care of erecting a monument to the memory 
 
224 SEVEN YEARS LATER. 
 
 of his son was intrusted to her ; and this, added to 
 her own strong feeling of having a sacred promise 
 to fulfil, made her long for the expiration of the 
 time that must intervene before she could set out 
 on a journey abroad, which she secretly resolved 
 should end in a residence of some duration in the 
 land, which (ever prone to extremes) she now 
 began to call hers, and to prefer to England ! 
 
( 225 ) 
 
 CHAPTEE XV. 
 
 RETURN TO GERMANY AFTER TEX YEARS' 
 
 ABSENCE. 
 
 Nora did not at first comprehend either her complete 
 independence or immense increase of importance. 
 She felt deeply having lost the only two relations, 
 to whom she had had an opportmiity of becoming 
 attached during the nine years she had spent in 
 Russell-square, for of the Gilbert Nixons she, as 
 yet, scarcely knew anything. Her uncle Stephen 
 had taken a dislike to Georgina, and, in a manner, 
 forbidden her his house ; Mr. Sam Nixon, as con- 
 trast to his son Arthur, he could scarcely learn 
 to tolerate ; and it was more to please Nora than 
 himself, that he endured, occasionally during the 
 holidays, the visits of his brother's youngest son 
 John. 
 
 John had been, during the first years of Nora's 
 acquaintance with him, as restless, noisy, and rude 
 a schoolboy as could well be imagined, then he had 
 changed into a bashful, awkward hobbledehov, had 
 afterwards become a wild and idle collegian, and 
 
 VOL. I. Q 
 
226 RETURN TO GERMANY 
 
 had, latterly, begun to talk incessantly about a 
 commission in the Guards, which was to make a 
 man of him. Through all these periods of his life, 
 a steady and undisguised affection for Xora had 
 induced him to visit at his uncle's house, and, in 
 return, she had crammed the schoolboy with fruit 
 and sweetmeats, supplied the collegian with small 
 sums of money, and had, for some time, listened 
 patiently to the ravings of the future hero, without, 
 in the least, participating in his longings for 'a 
 good smart war likely to give a fellow something 
 to do.' 
 
 It had never occurred to Gilbert Nixon that 
 Arthur might chance to die before his father, and 
 when the event took place, he greatly regretted 
 that Sam and Georgina had never been on good 
 terms with their uncle, and that even John had 
 by no means succeeded in making himself agree- 
 able to him. The evil could not however be 
 remedied ; therefore, though not pleased, he was 
 scarcely surprised to find that Nora alone was his 
 brother's heiress. The fortune was certainly too 
 large for a woman ; but he thought it not impro- 
 bable if she came to live with them, that she might 
 eventually become attached to, and marry one of 
 his sons. Sam was a steady, sensible fellow, likely 
 enough to please such a quiet girl, and for Jack 
 she had for years avowed her affection : it was a 
 pity the latter was so much younger than she was, 
 
AFTER TEN YEARS' ABSEXCE. 227 
 
 but if she had any fancy for him, she might have 
 him ; the boy required some one to keep him in 
 order in a rational way ! So, after the funeral, 
 Jack was sent to condole with her, Sam to assist 
 her in looking over her uncle's papers, and Geor- 
 gina to invite her to remove to Eaton-place. 
 
 With John she went to visit her uncle's grave, 
 and was shown the large damp flag, beneath which 
 the remains of the Nixon family had been laid for 
 two generations. It was in a dismal, high-walled 
 churchyard, with undertakers' establishments in the 
 neighbourhood, and John, who stood at the gate, 
 soon grew tired of the gloomy objects around him, 
 and called out, ' Come away, Nora, there's no use 
 in your making yourself unhappy about the place ; 
 he chose to be buried here, and one churchyard 
 is just as good as another in my opinion.' 
 
 ' But not in mine,' said Nora. 
 
 ' Too soon for you to be thinking of such things ; 
 and, for my part, I hope to die on a field of battle, 
 but not until I have become a colonel — or, no — 
 a general — I might be a general at fifty, Nora, and 
 after that, a man has not much to live for, eh ?' 
 
 ' I — don't — know,' said Nora, who had not 
 heard a word that he said. ' Have they no 
 flowers in the churchyards here. Jack ?' 
 
 ' Not that I know of,' he answered. ' Now do 
 let's get on, Nora — Sam is waiting to help you to 
 look over the papers, you know, and the sooner 
 
228 RETURN TO GERMANY 
 
 you come to live with us, and give up thinking in 
 this uncomfortable way about churchyards, the 
 better.' 
 
 Among Mr. Nixon's papers, Nora found a small 
 packet, on which were the words, * Correspondence 
 with the Hon. Charles Thorpe concerning my 
 niece Leonora.' It was immediately transferred 
 to her pocket, and kept for perusal when alone in 
 the evening ; the ink was pale, and the paper 
 yellow with age, but the unkind construction put 
 on her actions by Charles ^Thorpe, and the cold 
 worldly tone of his letter, had still the power to 
 produce a deep blush, and renew the strong feeling 
 of resentment against him, that had now for some 
 years lain dormant. 
 
 ' I wish him no evil,' she murmured, as if in 
 reply to the reproaches of her conscience *, ' I be- 
 lieve I have learned to forgive him too — but he 
 need not have blamed me for his brother's infatua- 
 tion, as he calls it, and the remark about my 
 foreign education, making me by no means a 
 desirable companion for his sister Jane, was alto- 
 gether unnecessary. This letter closed my uncle 
 Gilbert's door against me at first, and accounts 
 completely for the coldness and suspicion with 
 which, for such a length of time, all my efforts to 
 please were here received. I know we should 
 " love our enemies and do good to them that hate 
 us" — and I think I could do good to Charles 
 
AFTER TEN YEARS* ABSEJfCE. 229 
 
 Thorpe if an opportunity ofFei'ed, but like him 
 I never can. Never !' 
 
 At the end of a few weeks Nora was glad to 
 remove to her uncle Gilbert's more cheerful house. 
 It did not occur to her to make any extraordinary 
 additions to her wardrobe, or to expect the un- 
 divided services of a maid ; she thankfully received 
 the little assistance she required from Mrs. Nis- 
 bett, her cousin's feinine de chamhre, was surprised 
 at her obliging manners, and never for a moment 
 suspected that the worldly little woman was already 
 speculating on entering the service of the heiress ! 
 It was only by degrees that Nora learned her new 
 position in the world and in her uncle's family, and 
 discovered that she had become an object of specu- 
 lation to all around her. Georgina merely hoped 
 and expected that she would make a brilliant 
 match, which would secure them a new connexion ; 
 but her uncle observed more frequently than was 
 agreeable, ' that it would be a pity to let such a 
 fortune as hers go out of the family, and he hoped 
 she would take a fancy to one of his sons some day 
 or other •, that, for his part, he had always hked her, 
 and, as she must remember, would have taken her 
 " for good," and made her his daughter eight years 
 ago, if his brother Stephen had given his consent/ 
 The conclusion of the speech always made Nora 
 forgive the want of delicacy of the commencement, 
 and she thanked him, over and over again, for his 
 
230 RETURN TO GERM AX Y 
 
 former generous intentions towards her, ending with 
 the assurance, that she never should forget his kind- 
 ness on that occasion. With regard to herself^ or, 
 rather, as she suspected, her fortune, she gladly 
 seized an opportunity of being explicit, when, one 
 morning, John, in his boyish way, sounded her on 
 the subject in his sister's presence, 
 
 ' I say, Nora,' he began, whipping his lacquered 
 boots very diligently with a small cane, ' I say — 
 it must be pretty evident to you, that our governor 
 expects you and Sam to make a match of it some 
 of these days !' 
 
 ' I cannot believe that he seriously thinks of 
 anything so absurd,' she answered, quietly. 
 
 * Just what Sam himself said,' observed John, 
 laughing. ' Why you'd as soon, perhaps sooner, 
 think of marrying me !' 
 
 ' I have just as much idea of one as the other, 
 my dear Jack.' 
 
 ' But you like me, Nora ? I know you do.' 
 
 * Be assured of it. Jack,' she answered, extending 
 her hand to him, 'I like you better than any one 
 else in the world just at present. We have liked 
 each other for ten years, and I have no doubt shall 
 continue to do so as long as we live.' 
 
 ' I suppose^ Nora, you agree with Georgina 
 here, in thinking that Nixon marrying Nixon 
 would never answer.' 
 
 ' I think,' said Georgina, looking up from her 
 
AFTER TEN YEARS' ABSENCE. 231 
 
 embroidery, ' that Nora may now aspire higher, 
 and you and Sam had better try to improve our 
 connexion.' 
 
 * I suppose that will be easy enough, now that 
 our family has turned out to be so ancient. You 
 know, of course, Nora, that we are of Saxon origin.' 
 
 * No,' she answered, with some surprise, ' I 
 really was not aw^are of the circumstance.' 
 
 * Why our very name is German, our crest but 
 a play upon the word.' 
 
 ' I don't quite understand — ' 
 
 * Because your father, I suppose, took the arms 
 of the other numerous Nixon families with whom 
 we have, in fact, no sort of relationship ; but my 
 father and Georgy never rested until we had arms 
 found, sketched, and painted at the " West End 
 Practical Heraldic Office," parchment a yard long 
 and everything complete. It was easily made out, 
 for you know Nixe is the German for water-sprite, 
 water-fairy, nymph.' 
 
 ' You don't mean to insinuate that we are the 
 descendants of a Naiad !' she said, smiling. 
 
 ' Now, Nora, you must be serious, and listen to 
 what concerns you as much as any of us. Nothing 
 can be plainer than the derivation of our name 
 from Nix — Nixe — Nixy — Nixon! and the name 
 once traced to its Saxon origin, what more natural 
 than to suppose ourselves descendants of one of 
 the ancient possessors of Britain ?' 
 
232 RETUEN TO GERMANY 
 
 ' Our remotest ancestress being the fair Melusine 
 herself/ said Nora, laughing. ' She who, half 
 woman, half fish, lived in a dark green grotto, wait- 
 ing for a faithful lover to release her ; but, ac- 
 cording to the legend, waited in vain, and sank at 
 last all fish beneath the water — or no — I believe 
 we must take the other one of mysterious parentage, 
 who was only occasionally fish or serpent, and 
 who had a lot of ugly sons/ 
 
 ' I see you have learned from our uncle Stephen 
 to laugh at our arms and name,' said John, half 
 offended, ' but I only wish you would talk a little 
 to Georgy on the subject — she'll soon convince 
 you !' 
 
 ' I am quite ready to be convinced,' observed 
 Nora, smiling. ' No one will be likely to dispute 
 our right to the mermaid, or water-nymph, or even 
 Melusine herself as crest. There is also no reason 
 why we should not be descended from the Anglo- 
 Saxons, and if so, we may suppose that an ancestor 
 of ours fell at the battle of Hastings— his body 
 being found near that of Harold, partly covered 
 with a shield bearing the well-known device of a 
 water-nymph !' 
 
 Georgina laughed good-humoredly. ' Oh, I 
 see you have seized upon our mermaid as eagerly 
 as my father ; but you will introduce her to your 
 acquaintance and friends more judiciously than he 
 did, I have no doubt. I assure you I used to feel 
 
AFTER TEN YEARS' ABSENCE. 233 
 
 quite nervous whenever he raised a spoon or fork 
 at dinner, dreading the long explanation that would 
 follow, he understanding about as much of heraldry 
 as — ' 
 
 ^ As I do/ said Nora. ' The naiad is really a 
 very ingenious discovery, Georgy. I should never 
 have found out anything better than a hogshead 
 for our crest.' 
 
 ' A hog's head or boar's head is a very much- 
 esteemed crest, and I am sure I should have had 
 no objection to it,' said Georgina ; ' but I don't 
 quite understand in what way it could be accounted 
 for.' 
 
 ' By the way in which our grandfather made his 
 fortune,' answered Nora. ' My mother informed 
 me that he dealt largely in hogsheads of Jamaica 
 rum, casks of sugar, raisins, figs, and so forth.' 
 
 ' Hush !' cried Georgina, playfully ; ' we only 
 speak of the funds and railway shares now : and 
 seriously, Nora,' she added, ' it is not necessary to 
 tell all the world where we lived, and how we 
 lived in days of yore ; my plan has been to keep 
 quiet and attract as little attention as possible, and 
 I have found it the most efficacious means of 
 securing a position in society in spite of those who 
 so perseveringly laughed at my father, and treated 
 me with insolence. A few years' hard struggling 
 we had, of course, and I often thought the end 
 obtained not worth the trouble bestowed on it.' 
 
234 RETUEI^ TO GERMANY 
 
 ' I am sure it was not,' said Nora. 
 
 ' If/ sighed Georgina — ' if one could but prac- 
 tise as well as preach indifference to all these social 
 distinctions ! I assure you I feel at this moment 
 as convinced as you or any one can be of the folly 
 of fagging after fashion ; but I have only to visit, 
 or be visited by, one of my acquaintances, and I 
 find myself talking, thinking, and feeling as fool- 
 ishly as ever ! The worst of it, I am happy to say, 
 is now over — I have been dragged about and in- 
 troduced to people who did not w^ant to know me ; 
 I have been a beggar for invitations given with 
 ostentatious unwillingness ; I have been patronized 
 by Mrs. Savage Wayward and her friends, and 
 mortified by their inviting our guests and giving 
 concerts in our house ! But from all this I am now 
 emancipated, and you may have observed that our 
 visiting list is quite comme il faut; and though you 
 refused to make your appearance at our dinners, 
 you must acknowledge that we have had a very 
 pretty sprinkling of nobility at them !' 
 
 ' Why, yes,' said Nora, smiling a little mis- 
 chievously, ' you have certainly entertained a good 
 many Honourable de Boots and Lady Magnolias, 
 as Punch calls them !' 
 
 ' And do you really and sincerely, Nora, condemn 
 all efforts to make the acquaintance of people of 
 rank ?' 
 
 ' /shall never make any effort of the kind,' she 
 
AFTER TEN YEARS' ABSENCE. 235 
 
 answered, * and I don't like to see, or let others see 
 yours! 
 
 'Nine years ago you thought and spoke dif- 
 ferently,' observed Georgina. 'Had you come to 
 live with us then — ' 
 
 ' I should undoubtedly have struggled with you,' 
 interposed Nora, ' for it is only lately that I have 
 quite perceived the ruin that this false ambition 
 has brought upon the different members of our 
 family. I shall never sacrifice my happiness to 
 fashion, and never live in what is called the world !' 
 
 ' My dear Nora, what will your brother say to 
 such resolutions ?' 
 
 'Every thing that is worldly-wise, egotistical, 
 and narrow-minded,' she answered. 
 
 ' Is it possible that you do not like him, — that 
 you are not proud of him ?' exclaimed Georgina. 
 
 ' I know very little about him,' said Nora. ' He 
 has occasionally paid me a duty visit when in 
 England; but I have ever found him worldly- 
 minded to a degree that was perfectly appal- 
 ling. The last time I saw him was just after our 
 poor dear Arthur's death, and fancy his saying, 
 ' That it would be a famous good thing if old Nick 
 himself (so he always called my uncle) would drop 
 off quietly, and leave me his fortune, as in that case 
 I should be the very thing for Charley Thorpe !' 
 
 * How like him !' said Georgina, laughing ; ' but 
 you must not be too particular about little speeches 
 
236 RETURN TO GERMANY 
 
 of this l<incl, Nora. Young men have got a habit of 
 talking in this manner, without meaning any harm. 
 Your brother did not exactly want your uncle 
 Stephen to die ; he merely thought it probable that 
 he would not live long, and very naturally wished 
 to make you think of Mr. Charles Thorpe, to 
 whom by all accounts he is extremely attached.' 
 
 ' He might have spared himself the trouble,' said 
 Nora, indignantly. ' Charles Thorpe is the very 
 last man in the world I could ever be induced to 
 marry.' 
 
 ^Suppose, however,' observed Georgina — 'sup- 
 pose he should in the course of time become Lord 
 Medway ; they say his brother cannot survive the 
 winter.' 
 
 'To me,' said Nora, 'he will ever remain 
 Charles Thorpe ; and as to his brother he is merely 
 hypochondriacal, complaining alternately of his 
 lungs and liver, and probably encouraged in his 
 fancies by his mother, who wishes to live abroad 
 with him.' 
 
 ' Perhaps you are right,' said Georgina ; ' Lady 
 Medway has been but once in England since we 
 came to live here. It was the first year I believe, 
 and I met her frequently and was introduced to 
 her — you may remember I told you at the time 
 that she inquired about you very kindly, said you 
 were such a nice creature, and was so glad to hear 
 that my uncle liked you !' 
 
AFTER TEN YEARS* ABSEXCE. 237 
 
 'Her words,' said Nora, thoughtfully, 'made 
 more impression than you suppose ; they filled my 
 head with thoughts of The Willows, and made me 
 half expect an invitation there/ 
 
 ' I should not be surprised if you received one 
 next year,' observed Georgina. 
 
 ' Nor I either,' answered Nora ; ' but I shall not 
 leave Beechfield until I can go abroad.' 
 
 And to Beechfield, her uncle Gilbert's villa, 
 Nora went at Christmas, and there remained 
 during the winter and spring. She read in the 
 papers an exaggerated account of the amount of 
 her fortune, and of the perfect seclusion in which 
 the young and beautiful heiress was passing the 
 time of her mourning; but the smile of derision 
 passed from her countenance as her eye glanced to 
 the succeeding paragraph, which announced the 
 death of Lord Medway at Palermo, and the arrival 
 of his brother in England. The same paper in- 
 formed her, some time afterwards, of the reception 
 of the latter at Thorpe Manor, and at a later 
 period of the return of Lady Medway to The 
 Willows. 
 
 It was about this time that Nora informed her 
 uncle of her wish to go abroad, and heard of his 
 intention to accompany her with Georgina and 
 John. He professed himself quite wilhng to 
 submit to any of the discomforts that might attend 
 a residence of a week or so in the village where 
 
238 RETURN TO GERMANY 
 
 the fulfilment of her promise to her cousin Arthur, 
 made it necessary for her to go during the summer, 
 and showed actual alacrity in his preparations for 
 the journey. A stupendous travelhng-carriage was 
 purchased, with cabriolet before, and cabriolet 
 behind, imperial above imperial, and every con- 
 trivance for the disposal of luggage that had been 
 discovered during the previous twenty years. 
 When Nora first saw this vehicle, she shook her 
 head, and said that on the railroads it would be un- 
 necessary, and in the village where they should spend 
 most of their time, such a carriage would be per- 
 fectly useless if not inconvenient to them. But the 
 words of disapprobation were lost in the exultation 
 of her uncle, as heedless of his rotundity of figure 
 he sprang in and out, removing cushions, raising 
 boxes, pulling out secret drawers, mounting to the 
 top and making the carriage swing, stooping be- 
 neath it, and pointing out the construction of 
 various parts, in language sufficiently unintelhgible, 
 to convince Nora that he knew all about elliptic and 
 cross-springs, and wheels with patent axles, hoops, 
 nuts, and pins, though she did not. 
 
 Gilbert Nixon and his son provided themselves 
 with a few of those eccentric articles of apparel 
 which serve as stamps to Britons on the Continent, 
 and Georgina's protestations against them were 
 silenced by Nora's proposal that every member of 
 the party should be at liberty to dress and act as 
 
AFTER TEN YEARS' ABSENCE. 239 
 
 they pleased, provided it did not interfere with the 
 personal comforts of any of the others. Half play- 
 fully, half earnestly, she afterwards wrote out an 
 agreement to this effect, which was unhesitatingly 
 signed by them all, and four-and- twenty hours later 
 they were in a steamer on their way to Paris. Mr. 
 Nixon and his daughter sat with much dignity side- 
 by-side in the spacious carriage : the one declaring 
 he should have crossed the Channel long ago if he 
 had known it was so easy to do so, and looking 
 alternately at the waveless sea and the packet of 
 newspapers with which he had stuffed his numerous 
 pockets before embarking ; the other negligently 
 leaning back and occasionally turning over the 
 leaves of a book which she held in her hand, in 
 order that no one might suspect her of travelling 
 for the first time in her life, or taking an undue 
 interest in the things and persons around her. 
 John and Nora, or as they, to Georgina's infinite 
 disgust, familiarly called each other Jack and 
 Norry, amused themselves differently : the former 
 wished to see and hear everything without compro- 
 mising his dignity as an embryo guardsman and an 
 Englishman ; he felt agreeably conscious that he 
 was creating a sort of sensation, and entertained 
 very little doubt that all the young and pretty 
 women on board were watching and admiring him. 
 Nora seemed to have become several years younger ; 
 everything she saw was familiar to her eyes, every 
 
240 RETURN TO GERMANY 
 
 language she heard familiar to her ear. On 
 landing, the houses, furniture, and people brought 
 thousands of youthful recollections to her mind, 
 and when in Paris, when she had wandered about 
 the well-known places with her uncle and cousins, 
 she felt it impossible, on her return to the hotel in 
 the evening, to join in their querulous complaints 
 of fatigue, or believe in her uncle's assurances that 
 all he had seen had made about as much impression 
 on his wearied eyes and confused mind, as the 
 figures of a magic lantern on the senses of a 
 drowsy child. 
 
 In short the Nixons ' did ' Paris in a week, and 
 several other places in still less time, and reached 
 Munich about the month of July. The day after 
 their arrival there, Nora went to the churchyard, 
 and at a stone-mason's in the neighbourhood, ordered 
 a tombstone, such as Arthur had desired to have, 
 but with additional marble ornaments, that she was 
 inform.ed would require at least two months to 
 sculpture. Under these circumstances she ceased 
 to urge her companions to continue their journey 
 southwards, the more so, as her brother on his way 
 to England, joined them and announced his inten- 
 tions of remaining in Munich as long as they did. 
 
 Sir Harry Darwin was a man who had travelled 
 extensively, he had sought notoriety by the ascent 
 of glaciers, had made a faint attempt to discover 
 the sources of the Nile, had ridden on dromedaries. 
 
AFTER TEN YEARS' ABSENCE. 241 
 
 yachted away some years of his life in the Mediter- 
 ranean, and become a cosmopolite of the purest 
 water. He was a sunburnt, exuberantly-whiskered 
 man, still feeling and looking younger than his 
 actual age, exclusively devoted to the world and 
 its enjoyments, and perfectly satisfied with himself 
 in every respect. His step-sister had risen im- 
 mensely in his estimation since she had become an 
 heiress, but he was too experienced a man not 
 to take some pains to prevent her from suspecting 
 that she w^as the magnet that had drawn him to 
 Munich, — his first few jesting remarks about her 
 present w^ealth and importance having been received 
 in a manner that convinced him she began already 
 to doubt the motives, and weigh the words of those 
 who in the most distant manner alluded to her 
 fortune or future plans. His attentions, therefore, 
 were almost exclusively • bestowed on Georgina, 
 with whom, in fact, he was far better acquainted 
 than with Nora, having not only frequently met 
 her in society, but being in the habit of dining at 
 her father's house, and flirting with her in a remark- 
 able manner during his occasional visits to England. 
 They had, of course, many acquaintances in com- 
 mon, much to talk of, and in Munich enough to 
 see that was mutually interesting ; and Nora per- 
 ceived with pleasure his attentions to her cousin, 
 after having heard from her uncle Gilbert that 
 ' Sir Harry had long been an adorer of Georgy's, 
 VOL. I. R 
 
242 EETURX TO GERMANY 
 
 
 and that she certainly did not hate him, though he 
 had often enough disappointed her when she had 
 expected him to propose.' Georgina herself be- 
 lieved he must be in earnest this time, or he would 
 not have gone out of his way to meet them, and 
 devoted himself to her so completely during his 
 stay at Munich ; and so Nora thought also : but Sir 
 Harry had no sooner satisfied himself that there 
 was no immediate danger of his sister's bestowing 
 herself and her fortune on John Nixon, than he 
 resolved to announce his intention of returning to 
 England for the grouse shooting ! It was at the 
 Hotel de Baviere, on a warm summer's evening, 
 about the hour when the party, after drinking 
 tea together, usually separated for the night, that 
 the well-prepared little speech was made, ending 
 with some civilly expressed regrets that he must at 
 once take leave, as he should be far from Munich 
 before they were up the next morning. 
 
 As much surprised as any of the others, Nora 
 watched her brother as he cordially shook hands 
 with Mr. Nixon and his son, and then with the 
 most careless friendliness imaginable approached 
 Georgina. She was sitting at one of the windows, 
 and as he drew near she turned towards him, 
 extended her hand, forced a smile, and then looked 
 again into the street. He murmured some unintel- 
 ligible words about meeting before long in England, 
 and whispering to Nora to follow him, left the room. 
 
AFTER TEX YEARS' ABSENCE. 243 
 
 Mr. Nixon, who had been dozing, or, as he him- 
 self would have said, 'resting his eyes,' was dis 
 turbed by this sudden leave-taking, and now sat 
 upright in his chair, looking alternately at his son 
 and daughter, until perceiving that silence was 
 desired and expected by the latter, he again leaned 
 back and half closed his eyes. 
 
 On the countenance of John there was an ex- 
 pression of complete contentment, an air of only 
 half-concealed triumph in his walk, as, perambu- 
 lating the room with long strides, he passed and 
 repassed the pier glass, and occasionally stopped 
 to arrange his hair or cravat. On these occasions 
 there was a studied gracefulness and endless variety 
 in his attitudes, denoting a most laudable desire to 
 learn to please on some future occasion, or giving a 
 very amusing exhibition of personal vanity. After 
 a long, last, and, as it appeared, satisfactory inspec- 
 tion of himself, a pulling up of shirt collar and 
 pulling down of waistcoat, with a slight stamp as he 
 changed the leg on which his body rested, and 
 a curious wriggling of his Avhole person which 
 shewed him his figure alternately in three-quarters 
 and profile, he turned to his sister, and observed in 
 a low voice, ' I say, Georgy, it's a devilish good job 
 that Sir Harry is taking himself off in this pleasant 
 easy sort of way — I don't think I could have stood 
 his quiet impudence much longer ! he completely 
 ruled us all lately, and hardly allowed me to speak 
 
244 RETURX TO GERMAXY 
 
 a word when we dined at the table d'hote. As to 
 our governor, he treated him precisely as if he were 
 a — a — secretary, or something of that sort, good 
 for nothing but to sign his name at the bankers' and 
 supply Adam, the courier, with money.' 
 
 He paused for an answer, but his sister remained 
 silent and he continued : — ' Of course you cannot 
 dislike him as I do, for he never contradicted or 
 commanded you ; but if you think he liked you 
 better for always going against me and approving 
 all his plans you are mistaken. It's too soon for 
 the grouse shooting, and all a sham ! — he has other 
 game in view, I can assure you ; for Tomkins told 
 me this morning, when I was dressing, that he 
 suspected Sir Harry would not remain much longer 
 with us, as he w^as engaged to be married to Lady 
 Jane Thorpe, and had got a letter to say that the 
 family were now at The Willows.' 
 
 ^ Lady Jane Thorpe,' repeated Georgina, turning 
 quickly round. 
 
 ' Lord Medway's sister, you know. They've been 
 engaged this long time.' 
 
 Georgina put her hand to her head, and seemed 
 to think intensely for a few seconds, then rising, 
 hastily left the room. 
 
 Nora and her brother were still standing in the 
 corridor. ' I am glad to find you here,' she said to 
 Sir Harry, 'for I wish much to tell you that, 
 though I felt rather vexed and surprised at your 
 
AFTER TEN" YEARS* ABSENCE. 245 
 
 leaving us so abruptly, when I supposed it was 
 merely for an additional week's grouse shooting, 
 now that John has told me the real cause of your 
 return to England, I can only applaud your in- 
 tention, and wonder at your remaining here so 
 long!' 
 
 Sir Harry stared at her with a look of amaze- 
 ment. 
 
 ' Although,' she continued, quickly, ' although 
 I am personally but slightly acquainted with the 
 Medways, I have heard them so much praised, and 
 Lady Jane is so universally admired and liked, 
 that I may safely congratulate you on your choice. 
 Good-night. Don't quite forget us while we are 
 buried in these Bavarian Highlands, of which 
 Nora speaks with such enthusiasm.' While say- 
 ing these last words, she entered her room, w^hich 
 was close to where they stood, and as she closed 
 the door with a nod and smile. Sir Harry ex- 
 claimed, 
 
 * Well, Nora, I hope you are satisfied now !' 
 
 ' You are not^' she replied, with an arch smile. 
 ' You would rather have made Georgina unhappy 
 than have had the conviction forced upon you, that, 
 while you were merely amusing yourself, she was 
 similarly employed.' 
 
 ' Not I,' said Sir Harry, carelessly ; ' I have 
 flirted with Miss Nixon these eight years, more or 
 less, at intervals, and whatever I may have 
 
246 RETURN TO GERMAXY 
 
 imagined at the beginning of our acquaintance, 
 I took it for granted, that, by this time, her heart 
 and feelings must be completely worn out from in- 
 cessant use and abuse.' 
 
 ' How slightingly you speak of the person to 
 whose words you listened with such apparent de- 
 ference this very morning !' exclaimed Nora, indig- 
 nantly. ' Georgina fortunately understood you 
 better than I did, as I confess I never doubted 
 your intentions since the day you explained at 
 such length that a woman necessarily rises or 
 falls to the rank of her husband/ 
 
 ' That was all intended for you, Nora. I wished 
 to remind you, that if you married either Sam or 
 John Nixon, you would be neither more nor less 
 than — ' 
 
 ' Than Mrs. Sam or Mrs. John Nixon,' said 
 Nora, composedly. 
 
 ' Nora — if I could, for one moment, suppose it 
 possible that you would bestow a thought either on 
 that prig, Sam, or that donkey, John, I — ' 
 
 ' You would remain here to take care of me — 
 perhaps even accompany us to the mountains ? 
 The country would be new even to you !' 
 
 * New, inasmuch as I have never seen this village 
 to which you are going,' he answered; ^but after 
 having been in Switzerland and ascended glaciers, 
 I imagine I should find little to interest me on a 
 Bavarian or Tyrolean alp !' 
 
AFTER TEN YEARS' ABSExVCE. 247 
 
 * I don't know that,' rejoined Nora, ' for I think 
 a picturesque and well-wooded mountain, with its 
 pasture-grounds, inhabited chalets, herds of cattle, 
 and an extensive view from it, might be nearly as 
 interesting, and infinitely more agreeable to most 
 wanderers than a glacier.' 
 
 ' Perhaps so,' said Sir Harry. ' If the Medways 
 were with us instead of these Nixons, I have no 
 doubt I should find the Bavarian highlands or 
 Tyrol pleasant enough.' 
 
 ' I can scarcely imagine Lady Medway making 
 excursions such as I mean,' said Nora, laughing, 
 ' and as to Charles Thorpe — I mean Lord Med- 
 way — ' 
 
 ' Charley is a keen sportman, Nora, and nearly 
 as well acquainted with Germany as you are !' 
 
 ' That is the first good thing I have heard of 
 him for a long time,' said Nora. 
 
 ' And what have you heard to the contrary ?' 
 asked her brother, with an appearance of interest 
 that rather surprised her, adding, without wait- 
 ing for her answer, ' Some of his wild doings, 
 years ago, perhaps ? but let me tell you, Nora, a 
 man may occasionally put his life in jeopardy for 
 a wager, or undertake daring and eccentric ex- 
 ploits, who can, at other times, be as quiet and 
 gentle as any woman could desire.' 
 
 Nora smiled, attempted no explanation, and 
 merely said, ' I have heard him praised often 
 
248 RETURN TO GERMANY 
 
 enough by his own family, but I know him to be 
 an extremely worldly-minded and selfish man.' 
 
 Sir Harry shrugged his shoulders. ' He has 
 lived constantly in the world and had to work his 
 way in it — that makes the best man worldly in 
 time, and — selfish we all are, more or less. For 
 instance, he would certainly not seek or cultivate 
 the acquaintance of these Nixons, or even tolerate 
 them, as I have done for the last three weeks.' 
 
 ' I am rejoiced to hear it,' said Nora, promptly, 
 ' as it will prevent me from having the trouble of 
 avoiding him.' 
 
 ' Do not imagine you will have any difficulty in 
 doing so,' rejoined her brother, with a malicious 
 smile, glad perhaps to laugh a little at her in his 
 turn, ' for I offered you to him after you became 
 an heiress, and he declined the alliance, saying, 
 that your paternal connexions would prevent him 
 from thinking of you, even were you twice as rich 
 and twice as good looking as you were said to 
 be.' 
 
 Nora felt greatly irritated, but wisely concealing 
 her annoyance, said quietly, ' Did it never occur to 
 you that I might also decline the alliance ?' 
 
 ' Why, no — we concluded your foreign education 
 would have taught you to think rationally on such 
 subjects, and I should have trusted the fulfilment 
 of my wishes on this occasion to time and your 
 pretty face. I have lately been inclined to suspect 
 
AFTER TEX YEARS* ABSENCE. 249 
 
 he spoke in that way in order to appear consistent, 
 and that, having prevented his brother from marry- 
 ing you, he is resolved, notwithstanding your pre- 
 sent very different position in the world, to consider 
 the match unsuitable. All this, however, need not 
 prevent you from becoming good friends when you 
 meet/ 
 
 ' Of course not,' she answered, ironically ; ' all 
 you have just said is eminently calculated to re- 
 move my prejudices and make me like him ! But 
 let us not talk any more on so disagreeable a sub- 
 ject. Jane will, of course, write to me when the 
 arrangements for your marriage are being made, 
 and you can give me hints, at the same time, as to 
 what would be most acceptable in the way of 
 presents. You see I have already learned to play 
 heiress, and know what will be expected from me.' 
 
 ' You are a dear, wilful girl,' said her brother, as 
 they parted, ' but I still hope you will like Medw^ay 
 as well as I am sure he will like you when he 
 knows you. Good-bye.' 
 
 Nora's room adjoined Georgina's ; but though, 
 on entering it, she found the door of communica- 
 tion open, some minutes elapsed before she at- 
 tended to her cousin's request that she would join 
 her. 
 
 ' Well, Nora — what do you say to your 
 brother's engagement?' began Georgina, abruptly. 
 
 ' Had he told us of it immediately after his ar- 
 
250 RETURX TO GEKMAXY 
 
 rival here,' she answered, 'we — or, at least I, could 
 not but have approved, for Jane is, by all accounts, 
 what she formerly promised to be, a dear, good 
 creature. His silence was quite unpardonable, and 
 when you joined us in the corridor I had just been 
 telling him so, and accusing him of duplicity towards 
 
 you/ 
 
 ' But you did not betray me !' cried Georgina, 
 anxiously ; ' you did not say that I — ' 
 
 ' Oh, no !' said Nora ; ' I only spoke of what I 
 had myself observed and expected.' 
 
 ' I hope you think I acted judiciously In fol- 
 lowing and speaking to him again.' 
 
 ' Quite right/ said Nora ; ' he looked so com- 
 pletely put out that I could not help laughing at 
 him.' 
 
 ' And he never suspected that I was acting ?' 
 
 ' I think not.' 
 
 ' You, of course, understood me directly ?' 
 
 ' Assuredly ; and felt for you, and sympathised 
 with you most sincerely. Events of this descrip- 
 tion, Georgina, are very annoying — very mortifying; 
 and the only means to avoid them is by never 
 bestowing a serious thought on any man who has 
 not, like the lover in old Ducker's song, said, 
 " Oh, will you marry me, my dear Ally Croker ! 
 oh ! will you — " ' 
 
 ' If you can jest — ' began Georgina, turning 
 away, offended. 
 
AFTER TEN YEARS' ABSE.N'CE. 251 
 
 'By no means,' said Nora, apologetically ; 'the 
 words I have just spoken apply, I assure you, as 
 much to myself as you. For my own part, I 
 think it better to reserve every demonstration, and, 
 as much as possible, every feeling of regard, until 
 it becomes time to look over the marriage cere- 
 mony, and study properly the meaning of the 
 important words — " I, N., take thee, M." ' 
 
 ' You are quite right to say M., Nora.' 
 
 ' Of course, you know those are the letters used.' 
 
 ' That was not w^hat I meant. I have a strong 
 suspicion that your brother wishes and hopes you 
 may be induced to marry Lord Medway.' 
 
 ' Towards whom,' said Nora, a blush adding to 
 the already deepened colour of her unusually 
 flushed face, ' towards whom I feel so little elective 
 attraction, as Goethe calls it, that there are few 
 things would give me greater pleasure than having 
 an opportunity of proving how little I desire his 
 acquaintance, or value the rank and station he so 
 greatly overvalues.' 
 
 ' What on earth do you mean ?' exclaimed 
 Georgina, surprised at her sudden vehemence ; 
 ' surely you must know him, whether you like it 
 or not, when you meet, for you are relations.' 
 
 ' The relationship, ' said Nora, ' is not near 
 enough to compel intimacy, and, were it not for 
 this marriage of Harry's, might have been alto- 
 gether forgotten. As far as I am concerned, it 
 
252 RETURX TO GERMANY, 
 
 has lain dormant for ten years, and may remain 
 ten more^ if any effort on my part be necessary 
 to rouse it. Let us not, however, waste another 
 thought either on my brother or the Medway 
 family, but tell me if you would like to leave 
 Munich to-morrow.' 
 
 * Very much indeed/ said Georgina ; 'I am 
 quite willing to go to your village whenever you 
 please.' 
 
 ' I fear you will be equally ready to leave it, 
 Georgina ; for, as I have told you more than once, 
 there are no grand hotels, or English travellers of 
 distinction to be found in the quiet villages of the 
 Bavarian highlands.' 
 
( 253 ) 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 FIRST MOUNTAIN EXCURSION ATTEMPTED BY 
 THE NIXON FAMILY. 
 
 Nora's proposal to leave Munich was received the 
 next morning with evident satisfaction by her 
 uncle ; and John's approbation was quickly ob- 
 tained when she proposed, at the end of the first 
 day's short journey, an ascent of the Peissenberg, to 
 take a panoramic view of the mountains they were 
 about to visit. 
 
 ' I say, Norry, is this Peissenberg what you call 
 an alp or aim ?' he asked, drawing his chair close 
 to hers. 'I mean, is it one of those pasture- 
 grounds on the mountains, where you told me the 
 people send their cattle in summer, and pleasant 
 parties are got up, and wild hunters take refuge ? 
 I wouldn't give a fig for a mountain, now, that 
 had not alps upon it, with handsome peasant-girls 
 to take care of the cows, and sing the Ranz des 
 VacheSy and all that sort of thing.' 
 
 ' The Peissenberg is not an alp,' answered Nora ; 
 * it is merely a very high hill, running, promontory- 
 
254 FIRST MOUXTAIX EXCURSION 
 
 like, into the plain, and consequently commanding 
 an miusually extensive view. There is a church, a 
 priest's house, and a small inn on the top; and 
 I think it will in every way suit us as a trial of 
 strength for future excursions.' 
 
 'What do you say to this plan of Nora's?' 
 asked John, turning to his father. 
 
 ' Why, aw — if there's a tolerable road, aw — and 
 our carriage — ' 
 
 ' Bless me, sir ! you seem to have forgotten all 
 about the Bavarian alps ! ' 
 
 ' I never heard of them, that I can remember,' 
 said Mr. Nixon. 
 
 ' Don't you remember that Nora talked about 
 them for more than an hour the day w^e decided 
 on going abroad? and when we were planning 
 excursions to them, you said you thought mountains 
 must appear inlinitely grander from their bases than 
 from their summits.' 
 
 ' The remark was good, Jack,' said Mr. Nixon, 
 ' very good. I believe I do recollect saying that ; 
 and though of the same opinion still, yet, once in a 
 way, with a donkey or a mule, and a steady guide, 
 I'm sure I've no objection to — ' 
 
 ' You are talking as if we were on a tour in 
 Switzerland, or at one of the much-frequented 
 German springs,' cried John, impatiently ; * and 
 we have explained a dozen times that we are going 
 to the most out-of-the-way places imaginable. Even 
 
ATTEMPTED BY THE NIXOX FAMILY. 2D'0 
 
 this Peissenberg, though so near Munich, is not 
 much known to English travellers, is it, Nora ?' 
 
 ' When I was there,' she answered, * there was 
 not one English name in the numerous '* Stranger 
 Books " that had been for years carefully preserved 
 by the priests there.' 
 
 'I am glad to hear that,' cried John; 'for a 
 more uncivil set of people than the English I have 
 met since we left home I never saw in all my life — 
 they scarcely answer when one speaks to them.' 
 
 ' Perhaps because you have not been intro- 
 duced,' suggested Mr. Nixon. 
 
 'Not exactly,' observed Nora; 'the English 
 avoid each other on the continent, to the STeat 
 surprise of all foreigners ; but I have no doubt you 
 would, for various reasons, do the same yourself if 
 you had resided a few years abroad.' 
 
 'For my part,' said John, 'I don't want to 
 know anything about them. If I could only speak 
 French tolerably I should apply to the Germans ; 
 they all understand and speak it well ; and when I 
 can't get on in their language, commence talking it 
 as a matter of course: however it's too late to 
 learn French now, so you must help me on with 
 your " grunting guttural," Nora, that I may be 
 able to speak to the people at your village.' 
 
 Nora laughed, for John wished to be taught 
 German but would not give himself the trouble of 
 learning it. 
 
256 FIRST MOUNTAIN EXCURSION 
 
 'Well, I suppose I may order horses/ he con- 
 thiued ; ' for though this place is not exactly on our 
 way to Nora's churchyard, it is at least in a 
 southerly direction, and there are roads from it to 
 the mountains.' 
 
 On the evening of the following day they left 
 their heavily packed carriage to be stared at by the 
 inhabitants of the village at the base of the Peissen- 
 burg, and commenced the easy ascent to the church 
 they had long seen in the distance. Their way lay 
 through cornfields and meadows, bounded by woods, 
 and occasionally past an isolated peasant house. 
 Oaks, beech, and on the south side mulberry trees, 
 grew luxuriantly ; and this, and the increasing 
 extent of view, Nora pointed out to Mr. Nixon, as, 
 with true English determination, he laboured man- 
 fully on, heedless of heat and shortened breath, 
 declaring, when he heard that they should soon be 
 at a height of 3000 feet, that ' He rather liked 
 the work, and shouldn't wonder if he became a 
 famous mountain climber.' 
 
 Nora and John w^ere the first to reach the plat- 
 form on which the church and adjacent buildings 
 stand. They hurried round them, looked into the 
 former, and then surveyed the rows of windows 
 belonging to the priest's house, from the greater 
 number of which groups of inquisitive fiaces re- 
 turned their glances. For a few minutes Nora 
 contemplated the wide expanse of plain that lay 
 
ATTEMPTED BY THE NIXON FAMILY. 257 
 
 beneath them, the forests, lakes, rivers, towns, 
 villages^ and castles that diversified the level land- 
 scape until it reached the distant, thickly-wooded 
 hills, that form a commencement to the chain 
 of mountains extending along the whole horizon, 
 excepting in the direction towards Munich, where 
 the towers rather than steeples of the Frauen 
 church were still dimly visible in the grey cloudy 
 vapour, indicating a long continuation of the 
 plain. 
 
 John touched her arm, and with his eyes directed 
 her attention to two figures not far distant from 
 them. One was a young, middle-sized, well-pro- 
 portioned man^ negligently dressed in a suit of that 
 light grey summer stuff which defies the power of 
 the thickest clouds of dust to change its colour. A 
 straw hat shaded his sunburnt face, the features of 
 which, high and sharply defined, were rather in- 
 tellectual than handsome, especially the long, deep- 
 set, dark eyes, which were of extraordinary brilliancy, 
 and seemed constantly in search of objects to 
 amuse or interest him. His mouth was scarcely 
 visible, so well cultivated had been the growth of 
 the black moustache, which covered the upper lip 
 and joined the barbe Grecque that, thick and short, 
 nearly concealed his well-formed chin. He sat on 
 the low wall which partly encloses the church and 
 adjoining house, and on his knee was placed a 
 portfolio, while on a loose sheet of paper he 
 
 VOL. I. S 
 
258 FIRST MOUNTAIN EXCURSION 
 
 sketched with extraordinary rapidity and correct- 
 ness the country around him. At his side stood a 
 handsome, athletic, noble-looking man in the prime 
 of life, who, with folded arms and head very erect, 
 looked alternately at his companion's drawing and 
 the distant range of mountains. As John and 
 Nora approached, and the former endeavoured to 
 satisfy his curiosity by gliding behind the artist, he 
 bestowed on them a glance of haughty interrogation 
 that was by no means agreeable, and yet it was on 
 him that Nora immediately centered her attention ; 
 because she thought he looked like an English- 
 man. It may be asked, What do Englishmen look 
 like ? and I believe it was Heinreich Heine who 
 said, 'Like statues with the ends of the noses 
 lopped off.' Now this man's nose was not deprived 
 of any of its fair proportions, therefore it could not 
 have been that feature which had influenced her 
 judgment ; nor, on his broad forehead, of which she 
 could just discern the lower half, was the word 
 Englishmen written ; nor in the large eyes and low 
 marked meditative eyebrows, though English 
 enough in their way ; nor, nor, — In fact she could 
 hot tell what it was ; but those more experienced in 
 the study of physiognomy would have at once 
 affirmed that it was the whiskers that so plainly 
 said Civis Britajinus sitm, and which, being without 
 that continuation under the chin denominated 
 barbe Grecque^ were particularly English-looking in 
 
ATTEMPTED BY THE NIXOX FAMILY. 259 
 
 a country where lip and chin beards grow so re- 
 dundantly as in Bavaria. In the year 1850 Mr. 
 Dickens had not yet asked the English nation why 
 they shaved ; nor had the god of war procured for 
 the military part of it the permission to pack up 
 their razors and deposit them in the open temple of 
 Janus. Most Englishmen's faces were, therefore, 
 still carefully shaved, and many still remained in 
 ignorance of the different expressions of countenance 
 that can be produced by a variation in the form of 
 these hairy accessories. A very short study of this 
 important subject, with the aid of a few pencil or 
 chalk sketches, will lead to the conclusion that 
 whiskers a rAnglaise, and ditto with continuations 
 a la Grecque^ ought to be abolished, as tending 
 greatly to increase that most humiliating resem- 
 blance between men and apes ; while a moustache 
 may be tolerated from its having the contrary 
 effect, inasmuch as no ape has yet been found vrith 
 one ; and, indeed, a moustache would be bestowed in 
 vain on animals incapable of discovering the expres- 
 sion of cheerfulness imparted to the face by the 
 turning of it upwards, the serenity by a horizontal 
 position, the gravity by an inclination downwards, 
 the ferocity by a shadowing of the under lip with 
 it ! Nora knew nothing of all this, and was so un- 
 consciously an observer of whiskers, that had she 
 discovered herself speculating on the subject she 
 would, undoubtedly, have been very much surprised. 
 
260 FIRST MOUNTAIN EXCURSION 
 
 Just as she had detected a slightly foreign accent 
 in the few correct German sentences that the 
 stranger addressed to his companion, John ex- 
 claimed : — 
 
 * Look, Nora, here they come, regularly blown, 
 and Georgy as pale as a ghost/ 
 
 ' Hard work, Nora — hard work,' cried Mr. 
 Nixon, still panting for breath as he joined her ; 
 ' but the view is fine — very fine indeed : reminds 
 me of Eichmond — greatly — The country not so 
 cultivated or thickly inhabited, eh ?' 
 
 ^Eichmond!' exclaimed John, 'who could think 
 of Eichmond with such mountains staring one in the 
 face? I must say I cannot discover the slightest 
 resemblance.' 
 
 ' Must be, Jack, or I should not have thought of 
 it — green hill — look downwards — beech trees — 
 water — very like Eichmond !' Here he walked up 
 to the young man who was drawing, and after 
 having watched him for a short time in silence, he 
 added, pompously, ' Hum — aw — draws well — these 
 Munich artists are clever fellows.' 
 
 The artist continued his occupation, either un- 
 conscious, or indifferent to the commendation 
 bestowed, until Mr. Nixon, unwilling to deprive 
 him of the satisfaction, which he never for one 
 moment doubted the approbation of an Englishman 
 must afford him, touched his shoulder, and first 
 pointing downwards and then to the sketch, signified 
 
ATTEMPTED BY THE NIXON FAMILY. 261 
 
 expressively that he knew perfectly the part of 
 the landscape there represented. 
 
 An impatient gesture was all the notice taken of 
 his pantomime ; and imagining himself misunder- 
 stood, he repeated it, uttering at the same time a 
 succession of those inarticulate, inharmonious sounds 
 or grunts, generally used by dumb persons, while at 
 the same time he nodded his head and smiled 
 good-humouredly. 
 
 The young man at last looked up with flashing 
 eyes, but scarcely had they encountered Mr. Nixon's 
 bulky person than the expression totally changed, 
 and placing the end of his pencil under one of his 
 front teeth, he deliberately inspected the whole 
 party without an attempt to conceal the amusement 
 they afforded him. 
 
 Nora drew back, while John whispered rather 
 loudly, ' There's an artist for you, Nora ! You 
 say they are better worth knowing than other people, 
 that they are always gentlemanlike in manner and 
 picturesque in appearance ! Now how should you 
 like to sit to that chap for your picture ?' 
 
 'Hush,' she replied, turning away from the 
 bright, laughing eyes that seemed to have singled 
 her out from the others. 'Don't speak so loud, 
 perhaps he may understand what you say. I am 
 afraid he thinks us very rude.' 
 
 ' Rude to admire his drawing ! What can an 
 artist desire more than to have his performances 
 
262 FIRST MOUXTAIX EXCURSIOX 
 
 admired ? Perhaps, however, you think he is not 
 an artist?' 
 
 ' He may be,' answered Nora, ' but he is evi- 
 dently a gentleman also, and does not like to be the 
 object of idle curiosity.' 
 
 Georgina took her father's arm and retired into 
 the house, her head even higher than usual. 
 
 * I say, Nora,' cried John, seating himself astride 
 on the wall, at some distance from the strangers, 
 and beginning to pitch the pebbles, and bits of 
 loose lime upon it, down the hill, ' the wonderful 
 sunset you promised us from this place seems rather 
 a failure ; those thunder-clouds may be very grand, 
 but they are not pleasant to look at.' 
 
 ' I am beginning rather to fear a change of 
 weather,' she answered, ' so that we may be dis- 
 appointed in the sunrise as well as sunset. I am 
 sorry for it, as we are not lil^ely to see so extensive 
 a view again/ 
 
 ' What ! not on your famous alps, which are so 
 much higher ?' 
 
 ' The views from the alps are generally more 
 confined,' she replied, ' for the mountains are 
 nearer and more heaped together; and there is 
 seldom such an exent of plain to be seen from them 
 as we have now before us. However, it would 
 never do to keep my uncle up here waiting for a 
 picturesque sunrise, though I should be tempted to 
 remain a day or two myself for the purpose, were I 
 
ATTEMPTED BY THE NIXON FAMILY. 2 Go 
 
 alone. Let us look at your map, and find out the 
 pleasantest road to Almenau.' 
 
 * I dare say that fellow with the portfolio could 
 tell us all about it,' observed John ; ' but I suspect 
 civil answers are not in his line. He looked furious 
 when the governor touched him, and I cannot 
 say I have any fancy for figuring among his 
 sketches as a caricature ; I dare say he had some 
 intention of the kind or he would not have stared 
 at us so.' 
 
 ' The other,' began Nora, ' the quiet man, is, 
 I think, an Englishman, and therefore we had better 
 avoid — ' 
 
 * An Englishman !' he exclaimed. ' If that be 
 the case I'll just go at once and — ' 
 
 ' Oh pray, John,' cried Nora, catching his arm 
 to detain him ; ' I entreat — I — ,' but he broke 
 from her, and, with feelings of indescribable annoy- 
 ance, she saw him approach and address their 
 haughty-looking countryman. 
 
 What he said she could not hear. That he was 
 allowed to speak without the slightest interruption, 
 or even a gesture denoting interest, was evident ; 
 but the artist, clapping his portfolio together and 
 placing it in one of his capacious pockets, stood up 
 and seemed more disposed to be comnmnicative 
 than his friend. John turned towards him, and a 
 very animated conversation began, which appeared 
 so displeasing to the ' quiet man,' that he thrust 
 
264 FIRST MOUNTAIN EXCURSION 
 
 his hands into the pockets of his paletot and walked 
 off. 
 
 John's map was then produced, spread out on 
 the wall, and for some time the places and roads 
 on it were evidently the subject of discussion. 
 When, however, Nora perceived that elbows in- 
 stead of fingers were placed upon it, that the 
 intelligent countenance of the artist assumed an 
 expression of intense curiosity, that he spoke less 
 and listened more than at first, she felt convinced 
 that her friend. Jack, was becoming more con- 
 fidential than was necessary, and after a few mo- 
 ments' hesitation she resolved to interrupt the 
 conference. 
 
 As she approached, she heard the artist say in 
 very correct English, but with a strong foreign 
 accent, ' I comprehend perfectly ; the old gentleman 
 is to be induced to go to Ammergau — but you 
 suppose he will object to the great mystery. It 
 is a great pity, for it is very interesting.' 
 
 ' What mystery ?' asked Nora, her curiosity 
 completely overcoming her reserve. 
 
 The artist raised his straw hat, and let the wind 
 blow his hair in all directions, while John answered, 
 '" Oh, Nora, I have made out such a delightful 
 plan, if we can only get the governor to consent! 
 This Mr. a— a— ' 
 
 ' Waldemar,' said the other, with a gay smile, 
 ' my name is Waldemar.' 
 
ATTEMPTED BY THE NIXON FAMILY. 265 
 
 Mr. Waldemar says that he and his friend, who 
 you were quite right in supposing an Englishman, 
 are now on their way to the very place we are going 
 to ! and intend to sketch, and fish, and shoot there, 
 until they cross the mountains to the valley of the 
 Inn in Tyrol, where they have friends expecting 
 them some time about the end of the month !' 
 
 ' But what is the great mystery ?' asked Nora. 
 
 ' Well may you ask what is the mystery,' re- 
 plied John, laughing; ' it is a religious play to be 
 performed at a village called Ober-Ammergau, per- 
 haps the only place in the world where such a 
 thing is now to be seen in such perfection. And 
 only think, Nora, it is altogether got up by the 
 inhabitants of the village — the people who carve 
 those famous figures in wood that you and Georgy 
 bought in Munich ! and crowds of people are now 
 on their way there, because, you see, these villagers 
 only perform their mystery every ten years, and 
 Mr. Waldemar says their stage is quite classical 
 and all that sort of thing.' 
 
 ' It is certainly w^ell worth your going a little out 
 of your way to see,' observed Waldemar. 
 
 ' In fact,' said Nora, ' as we have no way 
 to go out of, no settled plan whatever for some 
 weeks, I do not think there is anything to pre- 
 vent us.' 
 
 * The governor,' said John, shaking his head. 
 
 ' What objection can he possibly have ?' 
 
2G6 FIRST MOUN"TAiy EXCURSIOX 
 
 ' Do you really know what this mystery is, 
 Nora ?' 
 
 ' I did not when you first mentioned it ; but I 
 understand now that you mean the performance 
 of one of those religious dramas which were as 
 common in the middle ages as they are uncommon 
 now/ 
 
 ' Exactly ; but it is the passion of our Saviour — 
 the crucifixion, that is to be represented. I am 
 afraid my father will object — will think it improper 
 ■ — profane, perhaps !' 
 
 ' He can hardly think it profane,' observed Wal- 
 demar, ' when you remind him that the Christian 
 mysteries originated among the ecclesiastics, and 
 were, it is said, first acted by monks in the churches. 
 Bishops, and, if I am not mistaken, one of the 
 Popes composed mysteries^ and encouraged in every 
 possible way the performances/ 
 
 Oh, that would be no sort of recommendation to 
 our governor,' cried John, half laughing, while he 
 twisted himself round on his heels. ' We'll keep 
 " dark" about that.' 
 
 ' Then you can tell him,' continued Waldemar, 
 'that they were acted in England in the reign of 
 your king James.' 
 
 ' That's a good point at least. Don't forget 
 that when you speak to him, Nora.' 
 
 ' And,' added Waldemar, * they were frequently 
 performed at universities and schools.' 
 
ATTEMPTED BY THE NIXON FAMILY. 2G7 
 
 ' Better and better,' cried John. ' In fact, Nora, 
 you can say that they are most interesting and 
 highly moral performances.' 
 
 ' They may promote morality,' said Waldemar, 
 smiling ; * but this representation at Ober-Am- 
 mergau is not at all what used to be called Mo- 
 ralities.' 
 
 ' I know very little about the matter,' said John, 
 ' but 1 confess I should like to see something of the 
 kind.' 
 
 ' Strictly speaking,' said "Waldemar, ' the Mys- 
 teries or Miracle plays merely represent stories, 
 according to the letter of Scripture, or the legend 
 to be represented. The Moralities were not alto- 
 gether destitute of plan and plot, and inculcated a 
 moral by means of allegorical characters.' 
 
 ' Oh, the governor knows nothing about all these 
 distinctions *, — we might call it a Morality, Nora, if 
 you think it would sound better ?' 
 - ' No,' she answered, gravely ; ' if I am to speak 
 to him, I must know what I am talking about, and 
 call things by their right names.' 
 
 ^ I do not think it is called either Mystery or 
 Morality,' said Waldemar, drawing from his pocket 
 a pamphlet. ' How w^ould you translate that ?' he 
 added, pointing to the title-page. 
 
 She bent forward and read aloud — 
 
 ' The Great Sacrifice at Golgotha ; or, The 
 Sufferings and Death of Jesus, according to the 
 
268 FIRST MOUNTAIN EXCURSION 
 
 four Evangelists — with Tableaux from the Old 
 Testament for contemplation and edification — ' 
 
 Either impelled by impatience or curiosity, the 
 Englishman joined them just as Nora thoughtfully 
 observed, ' The name appears unimpeachable ; 
 whether or not such sacred subjects can be pro- 
 perly used for the stage, without irreverence or — 
 or- — profanation — ' 
 
 ' Pshaw, Nora, don't you be squeamish, it was 
 only from my father that I expected opposition — 
 I never thought of your demurring in this way. 
 You look as grave as if we were trying to persuade 
 you to witness a Pagan instead of a Christian 
 mystery.' 
 
 'Torp,' cried Waldemar, turning to his friend, 
 'can you not help us to remove the unnecessary 
 scruples of your countrywoman ?' 
 
 ' No,' he answered, gravely, ' I can not^ because I 
 don't think them unnecessary. I feel them myself 
 
 ' But you are going to Ammergau all the same !' 
 cried John, with a laugh. 
 
 ' He is going there to get rid of them,' observed 
 Waldemar, with an affectation of gravity; 'but 
 Torp is so strictly evangelical in his ideas, that if 
 he see any thing to displease him he will be sure to 
 leave the theatre in a manner to mark his dis- 
 approval.' 
 
 ' A clergyman of course ?' said John, turning to 
 Torp. 
 
ATTEMPTED BY THE NIXOX FAMILY. 269 
 
 * Hum — that's a pity — as you could have spoken 
 to our governor, and — ' 
 
 ' Excuse me — ' began Torp, loftily. 
 
 * Oh, it's of no consequence,' cried John, turning 
 away from him, ' you can be of no manner of use 
 to us as you're not a clergyman. Now, Nora, just 
 go to my father and tell him exactly what is neces- 
 sary for him to know, and no more. If we don't 
 approve of all we may see at Ammergau, we can 
 walk off you know, as Mr. Torp here intends to do.' 
 
 Still Nora hesitated. ' If,' she said, musingly, 
 ' if it were one of those miracle plays taken from 
 the Old Testament, or a legend, my uncertainty 
 how to act would be at an end ; but to see our 
 Saviour represented on a stage — ' 
 
 ' Stay,' cried Waldemar, eagerly, ' on that sub- 
 ject you have really nothing to fear. You have 
 most probably seen pictures both good and bad 
 representing him in every important event of his 
 life, and especially his crucifixion. As you have 
 seen him in the best pictures, so you will see him 
 represented by the wood-carver, Pflunger, in 
 Ammergau, whose appearance and acting, if one 
 can use the word for such dignified tranquillity, is — 
 perfect. But, even if it were not so, the supposi- 
 tion that every thing holy must in the representa- 
 tion equal the ideal formed of it, or be profaned, is 
 an error. How impossible would it be to satisfy 
 
270 FIRST MOUNTAIN EXCURSION 
 
 the expectations of such differently constituted 
 minds as must be found in every mixed crowd of 
 people, or to produce the ideal of such various 
 degrees of cultivation ! Fortunately, however, it 
 is not necessary ; the imagination, naturally more 
 excited by dramatic representation than by any 
 other means, easily and unconsciously supplies what 
 may be wanting, and satisfaction is the result. I 
 have heard,' he added, more quietly, 'I have heard 
 a competent judge say, that the performance at 
 Ammergau reminded him strongly and incessantly 
 of the best paintings of the middle ages.' 
 
 'Come, Nora, after hearing all this, you can 
 have no more scruples I should think! if you have 
 I must say it was very improper your spending so 
 many hours looking at those old pictures in the 
 Pinakothek, at Munich.' 
 
 Nora seemed not to hear, but she followed him 
 slowly into the house. 
 
 ' So you have advised them to go to Ammergau,' 
 observed Torp, with some displeasure, as soon as he 
 perceived they were out of hearing. 
 
 'Of course — I could scarcely do otherwise when 
 my advice was asked.' 
 
 ' Hem ! but we shall get rid of them there it is 
 to be hoped !' 
 
 ' Hope no such thing, for by a singular chance 
 they are going to the same place that we are.' 
 
 'You are not serious, I hope,' said Torp. 
 
ATTEMPTED BY THE NIXOX FAMILY. 271 
 
 ' I am,' rejoined AValdemar, laughing ; ' they are 
 going to Ahnenau, and, in fact, have as good a 
 right to go there as we have/ 
 
 ' Then let me tell you, Waldemar, that you and 
 I must part company.' 
 
 * Nonsense, Torp ! you are not serious.' 
 
 * Perfectly so, I assure you, for I can scarcely 
 imagine any thing more disagreeable than the 
 intrusion of an English family on our privacy. 
 When I accepted your offer of a few weeks' sport- 
 ing in the mountains, rather enjoying the idea of the 
 deprivations and hardships you told me to expect, I 
 never for a moment doubted that we should be free 
 from every kind of restraint, and now the very first 
 thing you do is to collect an English colony about 
 us ! just the sort of people, too, most likely to 
 worry us with attentions directly they find out that 
 you are not a tinker, or I a journeyman tailor !' 
 
 ' My dear Torp, it is not my fault that these 
 people are going to Almenau! The young fellow 
 told me something about a monument that they were 
 going to erect in the churchyard there.' 
 
 ' Pshaw ! you did not understand him rightly. 
 If they have a monument to erect, they must be on 
 their way to Meran, or some such place where our 
 people generally die. Confess, you advised them 
 to stop at Almenau on their way, quite forgetting 
 that the inn there is small, and that thev will of 
 course require all the best rooms.' 
 
272 FIRST MOUNTAIN EXCURSIOX 
 
 ' No,' said Waldemar, quickly, ' and the last 
 annoyance I can spare you by sending an express 
 to the landlady to-morrow, so you may depend 
 upon having the best of everything that is to be 
 had in her house.' 
 
 ' But conceive what a bore it will be having 
 these women meeting us at every turn !' exclaimed 
 Torp, with increasing irritation. 
 
 'None whatever,' replied Waldemar. 'In such 
 places women lay aside some of their formality, 
 and one becomes better acquainted in a week than 
 elsewhere in a year ! Their presence makes one 
 overlook a thousand little discomforts, and they 
 give an interest to the most trifling events. You 
 must be greatly changed during the last few years, 
 Torp, if you have any dislike to women's society ; 
 and I have a strong idea that if that dark-eyed 
 girl were a German, you would make no sort of 
 objection to her company.' 
 
 'Perhaps not,' said Torp; 'but I can tell you 
 I have a very decided objection to becoming 
 acquainted with that intrusive, talkative, vulgar 
 coxcomb, with whom you seemed to be on such 
 astonishingly good terms just now.' 
 
 'I did not observe any of these qualities,' 
 rejoined Waldemar, ' and merely supposed him a 
 happy young fellow, fresh from one of your 
 Universities. I can make more allowance for 
 high spirits than you, being afflicted with them 
 
ATTEMPTED BY THE NIXOX FAMILY. 273 
 
 myself occasionally, and excuse me for observing, 
 that Englishmen are sometimes much more agree- 
 able companions before they have put on the 
 pompous dignity of their riper years ! There was 
 a time, Torp, when you would have resigned your- 
 self willingly enough to the society of two such 
 pretty women, and would have sought rather than 
 avoided opportunities of meeting them. I have 
 no doubt I shall be able to persuade that black- 
 eyed houri to meet us occasionally on an alp 
 after a day's hunting, and shall feel transported 
 into the seventh heaven, the first time she prepares 
 me a schmarn, or a cup of coffee !' 
 
 ' The English houris are not so useful or com- 
 plaisant as the German,' observed Torp, half laugh- 
 ing ; * you will have to wait long for your coffee, I 
 suspect, especially if she and her relations continue 
 to suppose you a poor, wandering artist, as they 
 evidently do at present.' 
 
 * Let them think so, I shall get the coffee all the 
 same.' 
 
 ' You may get a cup of tea per — haps — but — ' 
 ' No — coffee — and made by that adorable girl 
 
 called Nora — and brought to me by her, and she 
 
 shall sit by me while I drink it !' 
 
 ' Will you bet ?' asked Torp, amused. 
 
 * Willingly. I shall require a week, perhaps a 
 fortnight after we have reached Almenau.' 
 
 VOL. I. T 
 
274 FIRST MOUNTAIN EXCURSION 
 
 Agreed. A month — two months if you like, 
 and a hundred to one.' 
 
 * Done/ 
 
 ' Done.' 
 
 Meantime Mr. Nixon's objections to the mystery, 
 as it was explained to him at some length by Nora, 
 proved, as she had expected, insurmountable. 'He 
 would accompany her, of course, to Ammergau, 
 and remain there as long as she pleased — he should 
 not attempt to offer her advice — hoped that 
 Georgina would remain at the inn with him, 
 though John, having had the advantage of a 
 classical education, must, he supposed, be allowed 
 to judge for himself 
 
 The discussion had taken place at one of the 
 windows of the large sitting-room in the priest's 
 house, where they, at first, expected to be alone, 
 but soon found themselves, in consequence of the 
 unusually crowded state of the inn, in the midst of 
 a very mixed company collected in expectation of 
 supper. Nora had much difficulty in consoling 
 Mr. Nixon for the want of his tea, which had been 
 forgotten ; and even after he had commenced what 
 he called his second dinner, he continued to wonder 
 at the want of civilization evident on a Bavarian 
 * alp,' where tea was an unknown luxury ! His 
 son pretended sympathy, all the while bestowing 
 sundry knowing winks and grimaces on Nora and 
 Waldemar, the latter having contrived to procure 
 
ATTEMPTED BY THE NIXO]N- FAMILY. 275 
 
 a place close to them. Mr. Torp was at the other 
 end of the long table, and John observed, with 
 some astonishment^ that he was engaged in a lively 
 conversation with a German lady and her daughter, 
 and seemed to have altogether laid aside his taci- 
 turnity. As they rose from table, the weather was 
 discussed, and anxious inquiries about it made. 
 
 ' Is the weather of such very great importance ?' 
 asked Nora. 
 
 * Undoubtedly,' replied Waldemar, ' for the 
 theatre in Ammergau is in the open air ; if you 
 will go with me to what is called the Belvedere, 
 on the top of the house, we can take a look at the 
 clouds and see what our chances are.' 
 
 ' Georgina, will you go ?' asked Nora. 
 
 ' No, thank you, I am tired, and prefer my bed 
 to any Belvedere on earth.' 
 
 ' Jack,' said Nora, looking round, but seeing 
 him engaged in listening and trying to understand 
 what was being read aloud from the ^ Strangers' 
 Book,' she stood with Waldemar watching the 
 group of people who had gathered round the reader 
 as, lazily leaning over the large, soiled volume he 
 sometimes read, sometimes made remarks, which 
 were not unfrequently received with peals of 
 laughter. 
 
 ' Is that " Strangers' Book " so very amusing ?' 
 asked Nora. 
 
 * It depends upon the reader,' answered Wal- 
 
276 FIRST MOUNTAIN EXCrRSIOX 
 
 demar. ' A dull person would, perhaps, discover 
 but little subject for laughter, but a lively mind 
 finds amusement in the characteristic remarks and 
 odd effusions with which it abounds, as the bee 
 finds honey in the flower over which the stupid fly 
 hovers in vain.' 
 
 ' He has looked towards us two or three times,' 
 she observed, ' perhaps you know him ?' 
 
 '■ By name and reputation, very well,' he 
 answered. ' He is a Doctor X — , very clever, 
 very witty, and one of the most popular men of his 
 profession in Vienna.' 
 
 ' A doctor ! he does not look at all like one.' 
 
 ' Indeed ! Have doctors in England any par- 
 ticular appearance ?' 
 
 ' Oh, no, of course not, but — a — one could not — 
 at least I could not imagine that man soberly feel- 
 ing pulses and writing prescriptions.' 
 
 ' I dare say not,' rejoined Waldemar, amused, 
 ' nor has he, during his life, done either the one 
 or the other. He is Doctor Juris not Doctor Mc- 
 dicincB, and has studied law not medicine.' 
 
 At this moment some one touched Nora's arm, 
 and, on looking round, she perceived Georgina, 
 who, drawing her aside, whispered, 
 
 ' Nora, dear, forgive me, but as I am older 
 than you, and have been so much more out, you 
 must allow me to tell you that you are acting 
 against all usage du monde, talking in this way 
 
ATTEMPTED BY THE NIXON FAMILY. 277 
 
 to a stranger, a person who has not been intro- 
 duced to you — of whose name you are ignorant — ' 
 
 ' Who could introduce him here ?' asked Nora, 
 laughing. ' He told Jack that his name was Wal- 
 demar, gave us very good advice about our journey, 
 and — ■' 
 
 ' I knew,' cried Georgina, interrupting her, 
 ' I felt quite sure, that as soon as your brother 
 Harry left us, John would bring you into all sorts 
 of embarrassments. It is quite provoking to see 
 him talking to all these people as if they were his 
 best friends ! What must they think of us T 
 
 ' They are not thinking of us at all,' answered 
 Nora. ' It is quite a common thing in these sort 
 of out-of-the-way places for people to speak to each 
 other without waiting for introductions ; for instance, 
 one of those priests inquired, without the slightest 
 hesitation, if we were going to Ammergau, and if 
 we had rooms there ?' 
 
 ' And you, of course, told him all our plans ?' 
 
 ' Of course, and he and his companions informed 
 me that they had bespoken their rooms three 
 months ago, and that we had but a small chance of 
 finding a place to lay our heads.' 
 
 ' If that be the case, would it not be better to 
 change our route ? I assure you, Nora, nothing 
 is so destructive to the health and appearance as 
 want of rest.' 
 
 Nora laughed. ' I only mentioned this to you,' 
 
278 FIRST MOUNTAIN EXCURSION 
 
 she said, ' in order to prove the advantage of speak- 
 ing occasionally to strangers when one is travelling 
 as we are now. These most polite priests have 
 advised us to apply to a M. Zwink, a wood carver, 
 and the person who is manager and director of the 
 theatre at Ammergau, and should he not be able to 
 arrange everything to our satisfaction, I am to 
 inquire of him for Pater Ignaz. Now you see 
 this Pater Ignaz is one of those who spoke to me 
 without an introduction, and who, having received 
 a civil answer from me, may perhaps be very 
 useful to us in the sort of place to which we are 
 going.' 
 
 ' And in what way do you intend to make use 
 of the young artist with the fiery eyes ?' demanded 
 Georgina, ironically. 
 
 ' As ambulating guide book,' replied Nora, de- 
 murely. ' I find him even more amusing than 
 Murray !' 
 
 ' I suspect he will not be satisfied with that ar- 
 rangement,' said Georgina. ' He seems to me to 
 expect to be considered as a — gentleman.' 
 
 ' Well,' said Nora, 'and that he undoubtedly is.' 
 
 ' But,' persisted Georgina, ' it is even more 
 than that — in fact he appears to imagine himself 
 quite equal, if not superior to us ; his manner to 
 John just now was more that of a person conferring 
 a favour than one on whom a favour was being 
 conferred.' 
 
ATTEMPTED BY THE NIXON FAMILY. 279 
 
 ' But I don't exactly see in what way we are 
 conferring a favour.' 
 
 * You don't choose to understand me, Nora, and 
 are annoyed at what I said just now about intro- 
 ductions.' 
 
 ' Not in the least, I assure you,' she answered, 
 moving aside to allow some people to pass her. A 
 young and pretty girl looked back and smiled, 
 while her mother politely addressing Georgina in 
 French, asked her if she would accompany them 
 to the Belvedere, to see what chance there was of 
 fine weather for the next day. 
 
 With a look of affected astonishment at being 
 addressed by a stranger, Georgina drew herself up, 
 and coldly declined the proffered civility. 
 
 ' I should like to go very much,' said Nora, 
 perceiving that her cousin John was just then too 
 much engaged to be at her service. 
 
 ' Oh, pray come,' cried the younger stranger, 
 eagerly. ' I know you are a foreigner, but my 
 governess was an Englishwoman, and I can ex- 
 plain everything to you in your own language.' 
 
 Nora moved on while Waldemar looked away, 
 and seemed to have no inclination to accompany 
 them, although she had observed, that, on entering 
 the room, he had appeared well acquainted with 
 both her companions, and had introduced his friend 
 Torp to them. 
 
 Mr. Nixon was sitting near the door in a lament- 
 
280 FIRST MOUXTAIX EXCURSION 
 
 able state of bewilderment ' Oh, Nora/ he cried, 
 despondhigly, ' these doings don't answer for a man 
 at my time of life ! whether it's the second dinner, 
 or the jabbering about me which I don't under- 
 stand, I can't exactly say, but I never felt so 
 oddish in all my life. My tea, if I had had it, 
 would have set me all to rights, I am sure. What 
 that cooreer, that French fellow, Adong, w^as think- 
 ing about when he forgot it, I'm sure I can't tell, 
 for I don't understand a w^ord the mustachioed 
 rascal says to me ! If Jack had got an English 
 cooreer, as I asked him, this would never have 
 happened, and I don't and won't beheve a w^ord 
 about his not being able to find an Englishman ! 
 I only wish we had given the tea in charge to 
 Tomkins, or even Mrs. Nesbitt — I'll answer for 
 it — it would not have been forgotten ! Why they 
 will be just as much inconvenienced as I am, and 
 what we are to have for breakfast to-morrow, / 
 don't know 1' 
 
 'Coffee,' answered Nora, consolingly; 'and 
 pray don't make yourself unhappy about Tomkins, 
 who can take care of himself, or Nesbitt, who w^ill 
 be taken care of by Adam ;' then bending downi, 
 she whispered, ' Don't you think it w^ould be a 
 good plan if you went to bed now ?' 
 
 ' Perhaps it would ; but as there is a doctor in 
 the room, I think I'll just ask if I ought not to 
 take something.' 
 
ATTEMPTED BY THE NIXON FAMILY. 281 
 
 Nora did not wait to hear his answer ; and no 
 sooner was he joined by his daughter than he ap- 
 proached Dr. X — , and having bowed in a pleasant, 
 condescending manner, drew a chair to the table, 
 and sat down beside him. Imagining he wished to 
 see the ' Strangers' Book,' the doctor politely 
 moved it towards him. Mr. Nixon shook his head 
 momii fully. 
 
 ' Can I in any way be of use to you ?' asked the 
 doctor, in French, vainly endeavouring to suppress 
 a smile. 
 
 Again Mr. Nixon shook his head, sighing out 
 the words— ^English, English.' 
 
 ' My father can only speak English,' explained 
 Georgina. 
 
 * Ah !' said the doctor, leaning on his elbow, and 
 pausing for a moment, before he added, ^Well, I 
 can speak English. Do you wish me to interpret 
 for vou.' 
 
 'Sir!' cried Mr. Nixon^ with that feeling of 
 relief which only those who have heard unknown 
 tongues spoken around them for some weeks can 
 experience on again unexpectedly hearing their 
 own — ' Sir, I am delighted to make your acquaint- 
 ance !' and wdth a good-humoured laugh he con- 
 tinued, ' When I saw you reading these books full 
 of names to the company, I desired my son to find 
 out who you were ; and he has just now informed 
 me that you are the celebrated Dr. X— - ! I know, 
 
282 FIRST MOUNTAIN EXCURSION 
 
 sir, that men of your profession do not like to be 
 asked for advice when they are travelling for their 
 amusement ; but, as they say, " ]^ecessity has no 
 laws," and "Needs must when the devil drives." ' 
 
 The doctor turned to an acquaintance at the 
 other side of him, and muttered between his teeth, 
 ' Mad, or not mad ? — that is the question/ 
 
 ' Now the fact is, doctor,' continued Mr. Nixon, 
 ' I have always been a remarkably healthy man, 
 and though, when our travelling-carriage was being 
 built, I consented to the portable medicine-chest, it 
 was with the firm belief that none of the patent 
 medicines would ever find their way down my 
 throat. Now, ray daughter. Miss Nixon, is quite 
 diflferent — she likes medicine, and takes her pill 
 every night regular.' 
 
 'Is it possible?' asked the doctor, slowly, and 
 looking with unfeigned astonishment at Georgina, 
 whose face became crimson : ' is it possible you 
 like eating pills ?' 
 
 'Papa is only jesting,' she answered, in a voice 
 tremulous from vexation. 
 
 ' Not a bit of it, Georgy. I assure you, doctor, 
 no apothecary could manage the little scales, or 
 weigh and measure with greater nicety than my 
 daughter *, she can make up pills, and — ' 
 
 'Good night, papa,' said Georgina, in that dis- 
 tinct, quick manner, which is so very demonstrative 
 of female displeasure. 
 
ATTEMPTED RY THE NIXON FAMILY. 283 
 
 * Stay, Georgy, stay ; I have only a few words 
 to say to the doctor, and then we can go together/ 
 
 She sat down at a little distance, slightly con- 
 tracting her brows, and biting her under lip, while 
 her father continued, in a low, confidential tone — 
 ' You must know, doctor, that late hours never did, 
 and never will, agree with me. I like living at 
 the West End, and being in good society, 
 amazingly ; but only those who have been brought 
 up to it, like my son and daughter, can find riding 
 in the park, and dining at eight o'clock, and 
 going to evening swarries, quite easy and natural. 
 I moved too late in life, and can't get used to it, 
 especially the late hours ; so that I often wish 
 myself back again in — in — the street we used to 
 live in, as my daughter says. We knew many 
 pleasant, sociable people there, who dined at 
 rational hours, and better and more plentifully than 
 at more fashionable places. Mi/ father used to 
 dine at five o'clock ; by degrees, to please Mrs. 
 Nixon, ice got on to six o'clock ; my daughter has 
 brought us on to seven or eight; and I suppose 
 my grandchildren will dine at nine or ten, as I have 
 done to-day ! But it has disagreed with me, doctor 
 — disagreed in the most uncomfortable manner. 
 Perhaps the walk up the alp may have increased 
 my appetite — I mai/ have eaten more than usual : 
 the fish and the omelettes were good, the beer 
 excellent, but the wine was sourish ; all Rhine 
 
284 FIRST MOUNTAIN EXCURSION 
 
 wine is sourish. Give me the curious old sherry, 
 ever so many years in bottle, or even cape, good 
 and clever, such as we used to drink when alone in 
 — in the street we used to live in. Now, doctor, 
 you see, the late — the second dinner and the wine 
 having disagreed with me, I should be very much 
 obliged to you if you would tell me what I ought 
 to take before I go to bed.' 
 
 ' Punch,' said the doctor, who had listened to 
 him with undeviating attention. 
 
 ' What ?' cried Mr. Nixon, opening his eyes as 
 wide as the lids would permit. 
 
 ' Punch,' repeated the doctor, nodding his head. 
 
 ' Hush !' cried Mr. Nixon, with a wink and a 
 gesture of his thumb towards his daughter, to 
 whom he then turned, and affectionately observed, 
 ' I say, Georgy, dear, I'm keeping you up a great 
 deal too long ; you had better not wait for me any 
 longer ;' adding, in a whisper, ' Uncommon clever 
 man, this doctor ; he thinks I ought to take some- 
 thing before I go to bed, and is just going to 
 prescribe for me.' 
 
 Glad to be released, Georgina immediately left 
 the room ; and Mr. Nixon, drawing still closer to 
 the table and the doctor, observed, ' My daughter 
 does not like punch.' 
 
 To this observation no answer was made. The 
 doctor did not seem to think it of any importance 
 whether or not Miss Nixon liked punch ; and Mr. 
 
ATTEMPTED BY THE NIXON FAMILY. 285 
 
 Nixon continued, as it were in explanation, ' She 
 may, for all I know, in point of fact, like the taste 
 of punch, and it may be only the vulgarity of the 
 thing that she so specially abhors — ' 
 
 ' Vulgarity !' repeated the doctor ; ' I never 
 heard that punch was vulgar/ 
 
 'Why, sir,' cried Mr. Nixon, 'my daughter 
 says it is so shocking vulgar, that since we left the 
 — street we used to live in, and come to Eaton- 
 place, I have never been allowed to see anything 
 of the kind at my table ! I can conscientiously 
 say that I have not tasted punch for nine, or 
 perhaps ten, years ; but if you recommend it, I 
 shall have no sort of objection to try a tumbler — 
 medicinally, you know, medicinally. I say, just 
 order the materials, will you?' 
 
 ^ I know nothing about the materials,' said the 
 doctor ; ' but I can order the punch if you wish it.' 
 He made a sign, while speaking, to a girl who was 
 in waiting ; and before Mr. Nixon could express 
 half the satisfaction he felt on hearing that punch 
 was not considered vulgar in Germany, the waitress 
 returned, carrying a covered glass in one hand, 
 and a plate, on which was a large slice of cake, in 
 the other. 
 
 ' Hey ? ha ! what's that ? Must I eat that with 
 it?' asked Mr. Nixon, hastily. 
 
 ' Not if you do not choose,' answered the doctor, 
 with a smile, quite unconscious that he was being 
 
286 FIRST MOUNTAIN EXCURSION 
 
 consulted as a physician, and thinking his com- 
 panion singularly simple for a person who looked 
 so intelligent. 
 
 Mr. Nixon accordingly made a negative motion 
 with his hand towards the cake, uttering some of 
 the 'grunting gutturals,' which he seemed to con. 
 sider so like German that they might pass for the 
 language, and then took the glass, remarking that 
 ' It was very small, and did not deserve the name 
 of tumbler.' 
 
 Just as he had pronounced the punch excellent, 
 and deposited his glass on the table, he caught his 
 son's eye fixed on him from the other end 
 of the room. He pushed the punch towards 
 the doctor, who, however, slighly bowing, re- 
 fused what he supposed was an English token 
 of conviviality, while he observed, *I prefer 
 beer or wine — it is a matter of taste, you know, or 
 habit.' 
 
 ' Hem !' coughed Mr. Nixon, again pushing the 
 glass towards him, * but you see my son is looking 
 this way just now, and — ' 
 
 ' And he thinks punch vulgar, too, perhaps,' said 
 the doctor, amused. 
 
 ' Why, as to that, he must, indeed, we must all, 
 in such things, do as my daughter chooses, for she 
 knows the world and how people live in it, and has 
 for many years had the complete management 
 of my establishment.' 
 
ATTEMPTED BY THE NIXON" FAMILY. 287 
 
 ' Hallo, governor, what have you got there ?' 
 cried John, leaning across the table. 
 
 ' Why, Jack, the doctor here recommended me, 
 after my late dinner, to try a glass of punch.' 
 
 ' Where's Georgy ?' 
 
 ' Gone to bed.' 
 
 John drew the glass towards him, and seemed 
 
 to like the contents so well that his father laughed, 
 
 and desired him to use his German in order to 
 
 procure a fresh supply. Several of the guests 
 
 followed his example, and almost all began to 
 
 smoke — Now tobacco was an abomination to Gilbert 
 
 Nixon. 
 
 * * * * 
 
 In the mean time, Nora and her companions, 
 accompanied by a chamber-maid with a candle, 
 ascended the long steep flight of stairs which led to 
 the roof of the house. There, however, even 
 before they reached the door that opened on the 
 small enclosed space called the Bel-vedere, the wind, 
 which was blowing strongly, extinguished their 
 light. Yet still they groped on, stepped out on 
 the roof, and even while making some jesting 
 remarks on the inappropriateness of the name, 
 just then their eyes became accustomed to the 
 darkness, and they began to perceive the widely 
 extending horizon, marked out by vivid flashes of 
 lightning that, playing noiselessly along the dark 
 sky, rendered at intervals the outline of the moun- 
 
288 FIRST MOUNTAIN EXCURSION 
 
 tains visible, and shewed the distant thunderstorm 
 that was raging among them. 
 
 ' It looks better than I expected,' observed the 
 elder lady. ' The thmider-clouds are driving to- 
 wards Tyrol, and the moon will soon be visible to 
 lis at least ! After all it may be fine to-morrow.' 
 
 * It will be fine to-morrow and for some weeks 
 afterwards,' said Nora, gaily *, ' I have bespoken 
 fine weather, as we are going to a pretty mountain 
 village where M. Waldemar has promised to shew 
 us some beautiful views from the alps in the neigh- 
 bourhood.' 
 
 * Oh, Count Waldemar is of your party then ? 
 I understood he was on a hunting-excursion with 
 that Englishman, that friend of his whose acquaint- 
 ance he made at Vienna so many years ago.' 
 
 ' He is not of our party,' said Nora, quickly ; 
 ' w^e met him here accidentally to-day ; he told us 
 his name was Waldemar, gave us advice about our 
 route, and — ' 
 
 ' And invited you to visit him at his castle in the 
 Valley of the Inn,' said the elder lady, laughing, 
 ' it would be just like him.' 
 
 ' No,' answered Nora, ^the fact is, we saw him 
 sketching when we arrived here, and without further 
 consideration concluded he must be an artist, and 
 his friend, Mr. Torp — ' 
 
 ' Torp,' repeated the lady ; ' that was not the 
 name he said, was it Sophie ?' 
 
ATTEMPTED BY THE NIXON FAMILY. 289 
 
 *No, mamma, he said Lord Medvey, but he 
 afterwards called him Torp, once or twice ; and the 
 name sounded so oddly that I asked him about it, 
 and he told me that the family name of the 
 Medveys was — ' 
 
 * Thorpe/ said Nora. 
 
 ^ Exactly, but as Count Waldemar never could 
 learn to pronounce the "th" — he called him Torp. 
 He said he had become acquainted with him when 
 his name was Torp, and could not now learn to 
 call him anything else without a great deal of 
 trouble.' 
 
 The lady and her daughter talked on, and Nora 
 heard the murmuring of voices, but the words con- 
 veyed no sense to her mind, so completely had she 
 been surprised by what she had heard. Could it 
 be true that chance had brought her into the im- 
 mediate neighbourhood of the only person in the 
 world she wished to avoid ? Was it indeed certain 
 that he was going to Almenau, where they must 
 necessarily often meet ? Would he claim ac- 
 quaintance when he heard her name ? What 
 would be his manner towards her uncle, Georgina, 
 and John ? Could she, in fact, receive him with even 
 a semblance of cordiality after her last conversation 
 with her brother? She had not time to answer 
 any of these questions before her companions pro- 
 posed going down stairs again. At the door of her 
 
 VOL. I. u 
 
290 FIRST MOUNTAIN EXCURSION 
 
 room they stopped, and as they wished her 
 good night hoped she would not be too much 
 fatigued to get up the next morning to see the sun 
 rise. 
 
 ' Oh Nesbitt, I am so sorry I forgot to tell you 
 to go to bed/ said Nora, when she saw Georgina's 
 maid waiting in her room and vainly endeavouring 
 to suppress her yawns ; 'just put my things in order 
 for to-morrow morning, and then you can sleep 
 until Miss Nixon wants you.' 
 
 ' Yes, ma'am, thank you. Miss Nixon does not 
 wish to be wakened for the sunrise, ma'am.' 
 
 * Nor you either,' said Nora, laughing. 
 
 * Why, ma'am. Monsieur Adong says that a sun- 
 set is much finer.' 
 
 ' Of course what Adam says must be right !' 
 ' Yes, ma'am — only in one thing he is wrong, very 
 wrong — he always calls master, Lord Nixon, ma'am, 
 since Sir 'Arry left us — he says it makes people 
 think more of us.' 
 
 ' But, Nesbitt, you ought to explain to him — ' 
 ' So I have ma'am, but he says he has been so 
 accustomed to travel with noblemen, that he cannot 
 do otherwise. It's all very well with the hignorant 
 Germans, who don't know the difference, but when 
 English people hear him, I am so ashamed I don't 
 know where to look.' 
 
 ' There is an Englishman here now — a Mr. 
 Torp — ' began Nora, quickly. 
 
ATTEMPTED BY THE NIXOX FAMILY. 291 
 
 'Yes, ma'am, and as ill-luck would have it, he 
 and a young gentleman with a face and beard just 
 such as one sees in the pictures of the galleries, 
 ma'am, passed the kitchen when I was getting 
 candles for this room. The young gentleman 
 turned back suddenly, and asked Mr. Adong the 
 name of the fambly he was cooreer to ? " My Lor 
 Nixone," says he, '' from London," says he, and im- 
 mediately the other gentleman, who had walked on 
 very high and mighty, stopped and laughed a little, 
 and said something of the creation, which I did not 
 quite hear, and of a pleasant addition to the peerage, 
 and then he too turned back and said London was 
 a large place, and might contain a great many 
 Nixons ; that he knew something about one of that 
 name, and wished to be informed where Mr. 
 Adong's present employer lived in London. And 
 no sooner, ma'am, did he hear of Eaton-place, than 
 he became more inquisitive a great deal than the 
 other gentleman, and asked if you were all of one 
 fambly, and especially if you and Miss Nixon were 
 sisters ; and Mr. Adong, knowing no better, said, 
 '' yes," ma'am, that you were " all one fambly, tray 
 distinguey;" and then they walked away, laughing, 
 and I had the greatest mind to run after them and 
 explain that you, ma'am — ' 
 
 ' I am very glad you did not,' said Nora, quickly, 
 ' and you will oblige me very much by never enter- 
 ing into any explanation whatever. I am quite 
 
292 FIRST MOUNTAIN EXCURSION 
 
 satisfied to pass for a daughter of my uncle's, in fact 
 I prefer it just at present/ 
 
 Mrs. Nesbitt seemed for a moment surprised^ 
 remained a short time silent, and then observed, ' I 
 suppose, ma'am, you think it better for us while in 
 this wild part of the country to remain incog.' 
 
 ' Exactly/ said Nora, laughing ; ' it is quite 
 unnecessary that these strangers should be informed 
 of my relationship to my uncle ; nor can it in any 
 w^ay interest Monsieur Adam either, so for the 
 present let us leave him in ignorance also. In 
 short, Nesbitt,' she added, with unusual emphasis 
 and seriousnCvSS, ' the less you speak of me and my 
 affairs for the next six weeks, the better pleased I 
 shall be.' 
 
 These words made the impression intended, for 
 Mrs. Nesbitt greatly desired to enter Nora's service ; 
 and she actually was scrupulously silent during the 
 time required. 
 
 The Peissenberg is not a place for tranquil 
 slumbers on a moonlight night, and but a few 
 hours had elapsed before bright moonbeams in her 
 chamber, and on her bed, wakened Nora so com- 
 pletely, that she looked at her watch_, rose, slowly 
 dressed herself, and having from her window seen 
 several dark figures already moving about before 
 the house, she descended quietly and passed through 
 a small gate that opened to the east. The day- 
 light, which began to pervade the horizon, was so 
 
ATTEMPTED BY THE NIXON FAMILY. 293 
 
 faint, and the wind so high, that she returned to 
 the front of the buildings, and had scarcely reached 
 the parapet wall when John sprang towards her. 
 
 ' Good morning, Nora ; I knew you would be 
 one of the first up ! Did you hear the row in the 
 house about midnight ?' 
 
 ' No, I slept too soundly.' 
 
 ' The governor was ill — got up a regular scene — 
 thought he was dying !* 
 
 ^ Oh, Jack, if these sort of excursions disagree 
 with him, let us give them up at once.' 
 
 ' Nonsense, dear girl, it wasn't the walk up 
 here, nor the late dinner either, though he still 
 tries to think so — it was — but don't peach — don't 
 tell Georgy — it was the rum-punch he drank ; and 
 even that would not have upset him, perhaps, if 
 he had not sat sipping it in a room full of tobacco- 
 smoke. It was too much for me at last ; for though 
 I like my own cigar, I don't choose, as that quiet 
 fellow, Torp, said, to inhale the — ' 
 
 ' Never mind what he said,' cried Nora, ' but 
 tell me about my uncle.' 
 
 * Well, either the punch or the smoke, or per- 
 haps both together, disagreed with him — he really 
 was ill for half an hour or so, and then he sent for 
 the doctor.' 
 
 ' How fortunate there happened to be one in the 
 house !' exclaimed Nora. 
 
 ' So we thought, and sent for him at once ; but 
 
294 FIRST MOUNTAIX EXCURSIOJ^T 
 
 he refused so obstinately to get up, that I went to 
 him myself and explained, as well as I could do so 
 in German, my father's situation, and the duties of 
 a man of his profession. I did not know, at first, 
 that he understood English, and supposed my Ger- 
 man, spoken in a hurry, was not so intelligible as 
 usual ; he listened to me, however, civilly enough, 
 said something about being very sorry, drew up 
 the monstrous down bed with which people half 
 smother themselves in this country, and composed 
 himself to sleep in my very presence !' 
 
 ' How very unfeeling !' cried Nora, indignantly. 
 
 ' Wait until you hear the end,' continued John, 
 laughing ; ' my father, alarmed as you know he 
 always is when anything is the matter with him, 
 got out of his bed, and in order not to catch cold, 
 took the bright red-wadded quilt from his bed and 
 threw it over his dressing-gown. Now don't try to 
 look grave, Nora ; his appearance was comical, and 
 when, accompanied by Tomkins, w^e commenced 
 a regular pilgrimage to the doctor, I could not 
 keep my countenance. Some people in our vicinity 
 had been wakened, doors were ajar, and I heard 
 whispering and tittering in all directions. The 
 tassel of my father's monstrous white night-cap — ' 
 
 ' I really could laugh,' said Nora, ' if it were 
 not for anxiety about my uncle.' 
 
 ' Oh, laugh as much as you like,' cried John ; 
 ' I laughed too, and amused myself making bows 
 
ATTEMPTED BY THE NIXON FAMILY. 295 
 
 to all the half-opened doors as I passed. Now 
 that I know the true state of the case, I cannot 
 conceive why the doctor did not get up and lock 
 his door when I left him. I should have done so 
 in his place ; however, it proves satisfactorily that 
 the Germans are a phlegmatic nation. The door 
 was still unlocked, and in the few minutes I had 
 been absent he had actually contrived to fall asleep 
 again !' 
 
 ' And you were obliged to waken him?' inter- 
 posed Nora. 
 
 ^ Of course. And after staring at us all for a 
 few seconds, rather savagely, he began to mutter 
 the most extraordinary words I ever heard. I did 
 not understand them, but I can imagine their im- 
 port, and it struck me at the time that the German 
 language was very powerful for the expression of 
 rage. The governor sat down by him, and mildly 
 began a detailed account of his sufferings ; but the 
 doctor interrupted him by an impatient and fruitless 
 endeavour to make him understand that though a 
 doctor he was no doctor.' 
 
 ' Ah,' said Nora, ' that was the man who was 
 reading the '' Strangers' Book" this evening; I 
 made the same mistake myself.' 
 
 ' Yes, and if he had only used the word phy- 
 sician^ perhaps the governor would have understood 
 him — but I am not sure — these things are out of 
 his line, you know ; so they kept shouting at each 
 
296 FIRST MOUNTAIN EXCURSION 
 
 other, doctor or no doctor, until at length, finding 
 English, German, and French insufficient, he ex- 
 plained, with a couple of Latin words, that he was 
 a lawyer, and not a physician. I understood him, 
 of course, and with some difficulty made my father 
 comprehend the state of the case ; but no sooner 
 did a light break upon him, than he thought it 
 necessary, as an apology for having got up such a 
 row, to commence a history of his neglected educa- 
 tion, and how his father had considered a classical 
 education unnecessary, and how often he had in- 
 tended to learn Greek and Latin, but had never 
 had time for it ! The old story, you know : if 
 Georgy had been there he would not have been so 
 communicative, I suspect — ' 
 
 Here they both became conscious that Torp was 
 within hearing distance of them, and John added 
 quickly, ' In short, all was at last satisfactorily 
 explained, and we left the doctor in peace — but 
 even then he did not bolt his door — curious people 
 these Germans !' 
 
 At that moment Waldemar advanced towards 
 them, and while he leaned against the wall, and 
 was still eagerly speaking to Nora, the wind caught 
 his light straw hat, balanced it a moment high 
 above his head, and then blew it down the steep 
 green hill. John laughed loudly. Waldemar 
 smiled good-humouredly, looked after it for a 
 moment, and perceiving that it was already out of 
 
ATTEMPTED BY THE NIXON FAMILY. 297 
 
 sight, continued speaking as if nothing had occurred 
 to interrupt him. ' I scarcely, in fact, know which 
 I prefer,' he said, looking round him, 'a sunrise 
 from a quite dark night, or this protracted struggle 
 between moonlight and breaking day ! But we 
 must go to the other side of the church, Mees 
 Nixe, if we intend to see the sun rise in all its 
 glory.' 
 
 '• I wonder,' cried John, leaning over the wall, 
 ' I wonder how far down the hill your hat is at 
 this moment !' 
 
 ' If you feel the slightest curiosity on the sub- 
 ject,' said Waldemar, 'I advise you to gratify it' 
 
 John jumped over the wall, and directly he was 
 out of sight, Torp joined Nora and Waldemar. 
 Several groups of people from the neighbouring 
 inn were assembled, all eyes turned to the east. 
 Nora's acquaintances of the previous evening moved 
 towards her, and Waldemar seemed for a moment 
 inclined to retire ; but when he perceived that 
 both ladies turned to Torp and began to speak 
 English, he remained standing with his arms 
 folded, his eyes sweeping eagerly over the plain 
 before him, while he began again to speak to Nora, 
 as if in continuation of what he had before said. 
 * Moonlight is more adapted for confined landscapes 
 than for a view like thist : here it can produce 
 strong shadow and make insignificant objects appear 
 grand ; here it serves but to create confusion ; 
 
298 FIRST MOUXTAIN EXCURSIOX 
 
 the eye labours in vain to find a distinct outline or 
 place of repose — just light enough to make us 
 painfully aware of the imperfection of the noblest 
 sense that we possess ! — I believe I give the pre- 
 ference to that gradual transition from night to 
 morning, which I witnessed the last time I was on 
 this spot at this hour. Impenetrable darkness 
 changed by degrees into grey twilight — the first 
 glimmer of light caught by the mountain tops and 
 shewing their outline in dark masses, — then the 
 boundaries of forest and long dark-coloured lakes 
 became visible — last of all the towns, villages, 
 churches. Do not look again at that pale fading 
 moon,' he added, turning once more with Nora 
 towards the east, and fixing his eyes on the spot 
 where, bright and glowing, the sun's disk began to 
 appear above the horizon. 
 
 With the others they gazed undazzled on the 
 magnificent fiery orb as long as his rays ' shot 
 parallel to the earth,' and were tempered by its 
 misty atmosphere. Soon, however, the deep red 
 colour changed to the pale hue of intense heat and 
 light— the admiring eyes were averted and tongues 
 were loosed and — talked of breakfast. 
 
 Nora took advantage of the general movement 
 leisurely to examine Mr. Torp. The moment was 
 favourable for him : he was listening to the broken 
 English of her acquaintances of the previous even- 
 ing ; and though none of that suavity of manner 
 
ATTEMPTED BY THE NIXON FAMILY. 299 
 
 which men frequently feel or feign when speak- 
 ing to women with whom they are but slightly 
 acquainted was perceptible in his person or features, 
 there was an unaffected cordial smile on his lips, 
 and a mirthful glance in his eyes, that made her 
 unwillingly acknowledge to herself that he was 
 handsomer than she had expected to find him. 
 The scrutiny, however, was short, for with that 
 inexplicable feeling of consciousness from which 
 even the most near-sighted are seldom quite free 
 when closely watched, Torp soon became aware 
 that eyes were fixed on him, and turned to meet 
 them. Indifferent and haughty was the glance he 
 bestowed on Nora, but the look that met his, though 
 a mere flashing of the eye, instantly arrested his 
 attention — there was recognition in it, and few 
 are ignorant of the change which that produces in 
 the human eye. Did it remind him of somebody 
 he had seen before ? When ? where ? Pshaw ! 
 Often as he had heard of the Nixon family, he 
 certainly never had seen one of them ! The eves 
 were handsome, very — very handsome, and he 
 rather wished she would look at him again — it 
 would greatly assist his memory. For this purpose 
 he followed her into the house and to the sitting- 
 room ; but in vain. Nora would not look at him 
 any more, and seemed altogether occupied with 
 John, who, after a fruitless chase of Waldemar's 
 straw hat, had ordered his breakfast, and now 
 
300 FIRST MOUNTAIN EXCURSION, ETC. 
 
 assured her he had had an exellent view of the 
 sunrise from the window opposite him. They 
 then lowered their voices, spoke for a few minutes, 
 and finally left the room together, John to induce 
 his father to get up, Nora to bribe Georgina to 
 exertion, by a proposal to stop at Sultzbad, at the 
 foot of the hill, until they had all had warm baths. 
 By the time they were ready to commence their 
 descent, not a trace of the numerous travellers 
 of the previous evening was to be seen. 
 
 END OF VOL. I. 
 
 LONDON PRINTED BY \f . CLOWES AND SON'S, STAMFORD STREET. 
 
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