M
 
 -A- ^-^ • ' 
 
 \
 
 M I L L I C E N T ; hnM 
 
 OE, 
 
 THE TRIALS OF LIFE. 
 
 THE AUTHOR OF 
 
 "THE CURATE OF OVERTON. 
 
 There's a divinity that shapes our ends 
 Ron^h-hew them how we will." 
 
 >HAKSPKARE. 
 
 IN THREE VOLUMES 
 VOL. L 
 
 LONDON: 
 
 HURST AND BLACKETT, PUBLISHERS, 
 
 SUCCESSORS TO HENRY COLBURN. 
 
 13, GREAT MARLBOROUGH STREET. 
 
 1855.
 
 PRINTED BY CHARLES BEVAN AND SON, 
 BUILDINGS, CHAPEL STREET, GR08\'EN0U SQI AUK.
 
 ^53 
 
 M I L L I C E X T 
 
 ft) 
 
 I CHAPTER I. 
 
 ^' The governess ! the goveraess ! oh, wearily she sits, 
 . "WTiile midst the dazzling throng another vision flits ; 
 *;; A mirthful circle cometh, with footsteps swift and near, 
 ^ And she is there, so joyousL^ — but she wakes with 
 ;S start and tear. 
 
 ^ The governess I the governess I her work is scora'd 
 ^ and lowly, 
 
 Yet in the clear, true heavens it is counted bless'd 
 and holy ; 
 \ . The white-rob'd angels tenderly their glances on it cast, 
 And her loving God accepteth it, with whom she rests 
 ; at last ! ' 
 
 vShe sat alone, unpitied and forlorn, in her 
 solitary little chamber, beside her uncorded 
 boxes, her head leaning on her hand ; and a 
 tear — the heart's sorrow-drop — rested sadly 
 
 VOL. I. B
 
 2 MILLICENT. 
 
 on her cheek, asking, in crystal tones, ^' Why 
 am I here ?" — yes, why was it there ? — Why 
 did the girl of eighteen weep ? 
 
 The moonbeams played through the narrow 
 panes of the high window, and twined them- 
 selves in and out of her clustering hak, and 
 longed to comfort her ; and they, too, whis- 
 pered, in silvery tones, — " Why does she 
 weep ? " 
 
 She was beautiful, was that sad maiden ; 
 her soft, loving face, and gentle eyes, and her 
 parted lips, seemed formed for the abode of 
 smiles ; yet none were there. She was good, 
 her heart was made for soft words, and all the 
 affection that heart can beat back to heart. 
 Alas ! poor heart, who shall love thee now ? — 
 who shall breathe words of winning tenderness 
 like balm into thine ear ? — who shall smile on 
 thee, and listen to thy words of mirth and 
 joy ? The moonbeams have descended to thy 
 garments, and are stooping curiously among 
 the sable folds. Oh, what sad tales they 
 learn! Thy mother's voice is hushed in the
 
 MILLICENT. 6 
 
 silent tomb ; and thy father — where is he ? 
 Alas ! poor child, the cold waves murmiu* 
 sadly his lullaby. 
 
 But, hush ! sad voice — be still, sad tear ; 
 thy Heavenly Father yet remains. No quiet 
 tomb, no cold waters can divide thee from 
 Him ; and amid hard struggles, bitter tears 
 and sighs, with which thy path will yet be 
 strewn, He will be there to protect and guide 
 thee with ffis arm ; and though contempt and 
 scorn may meet and bend thee, sweet rose, 
 and wither thee with their crushing blast, thy 
 Father will not spurn thee, even governess 
 though thou art ! 
 
 Yes, MiUicent Thomville, the weeping 
 orphan, was a governess ; and, what rendered 
 her lot still worse, she had not been brought 
 up to fulfil that cold and arduous, that un- 
 loved and unrespected, post. An elegant, 
 refined home — loving, indulgent parents — 
 servants, to whom a look fi-om her was 
 law — luxuries and comforts strewn around 
 her — these had been the portion of the only 
 
 B 2
 
 4 MILLICENT. 
 
 child ; but a sudden cloud burst heavily over 
 her path, and extinguished the sunshine of her 
 early days. 
 
 Mr. and Mrs. Thornville were first cousins ; 
 they had few relations, and lived for each 
 other and their Millicent. Amiable, kind- 
 hearted people, their chief delight was in con- 
 tributing to the comfort and happiness of those 
 around them ; and, in return, they gained the 
 love and respect of their neighbours. Their 
 life was blissful as life could be — cares they 
 had none ; and in Heatherton Manor, their 
 cheerful home, sorrow and discontent were 
 alike unknown ; they were '^ happy past the 
 common lot,'^ and ^' all who kneiv envied, yet 
 in envy loved. Can fancy form more finished 
 hajypiness?" 
 
 But no happiness is lasting — nothing is un- 
 fading — nothing is unchangeably bright — but 
 Heaven ; and that Millicent Thornville was 
 soon to feel. 
 
 It was her eighteenth birthday. She was 
 luxuriating in the height of youth, beauty, and
 
 MILLICENT. 5 
 
 love. It was a summer's day of no ordinary 
 brilliancy ; sunshine and zephyrs ushered it 
 in, and in moonlight and calm it died away, 
 sealed by the breath of peace. A party of 
 friends had celebrated with Millicent the anni- 
 versary of her natal day ; a long, winding 
 river separated their home from hers ; and, 
 late on that summer's night, Mr. Thornville, 
 accompanied by his servants, rowed them up 
 the stream, and left his guests safe at their 
 paternal mansion ; but, alas ! on his return, 
 in passing the turbulent waters of a mill, the 
 frail bark upset ; the domestics were saved, one 
 alone perished — that one was Mr. Thornville! 
 His Millicent had long retired to rest ; Mrs. 
 Thornville alone awaited the return of the 
 absent one, but he returned not ; the hours 
 came and went, to come no more — still her 
 husband delayed; at length, after long and 
 anxious waitmg, the dreadful news arrives : 
 
 * Untold, she saw it in her servant's eye ; 
 She felt it seen (her heart was apt to feel) : 
 And, drown'd without the furious waters' aid, 
 In suffocating sorrows shares his tomb.'
 
 6 MILLICENT. 
 
 Yes, Mrs. Thornville sank under the terrible 
 shock; and Millicent — ^what was her fate ? A 
 sad, unforeseen one! Misfortune, it is said, 
 never comes alone. This proved true in her 
 case; after her parent's death, the greatest 
 affliction a child can ever know, her nearest 
 relative, who ought to have come forward to 
 comfort and protect her, appeared to contest 
 the validity of the will, in wliich Mr. Thorn- 
 ville's grandfather had made him and his chil- 
 dren heirs to the Manor ; Sir James Heather- 
 ton's lawyers pleaded so successfully, that in 
 less than six months after her bereavement, 
 Millicent was both orphaned and disinherited 
 of her lovely home, where everything was 
 endeared to her by a thousand fond, though 
 melancholy, recollections. Sir James Hea- 
 therton, now owner of the Manor, offered 
 Millicent a home under the roof which had, 
 till then, been her own. She shrank from re- 
 ceiving favours from those who every one 
 believed had acted dishonourably towards the 
 orphan ; she could not bear to live on suffer-
 
 MILLICENT. 7 
 
 ance in the house that was, she felt convinced, 
 in spite of lawyers' arguments, still her right- 
 ful inheritance; she determined what course 
 to pursue, and taking with her her mother's 
 jewels, all the property that remained to her, 
 the poor girl left her splendid home for the 
 humble cottage of an old and faithful servant, 
 who would fain have had her young lady share 
 her humble affluence, but this Millicent refiised 
 kindly but firmly, and, making known to no 
 one but the old nurse, Mrs. Lucas, and the 
 village clergyman, her intention of entering 
 upon that situation, the idea of which, in her 
 happier days, would have appalled her, namely, 
 that of a governess; she succeeded imme- 
 diately, from Mr. Mortimer's high recom- 
 mendations, in obtaining employment in a 
 family with which he was slightly acquainted ; 
 and, after a few preparations, the lonely 
 orphan proceeded, sadly, and with a heart 
 weighed down with sorrow, to ftilfil the lot 
 assigned her. 
 
 It was one of the gloomiest days of tliat
 
 8 MILLICENT. 
 
 dismal month, February, when Millicent took 
 her place in the stage-coach, which was to 
 convey her to the railway station ; it wa& the 
 first time she had ever travelled alone in a 
 public conveyance, and she shrank timidly into 
 a corner, her face concealed by her thick crape 
 veil. For some miles her sole companions 
 were a clergyman and a little girl, who both 
 seemed very much interested, the one with his 
 book and the other with her doll, though 
 every now and then the father closed the 
 volume to make some observation to the 
 child about the country ; the little girl looked 
 very pleased when he spoke, and immediately 
 laid down her doll to attend to him. At a 
 large mansion on the road the coachman 
 stopped his horses, and an addition to their 
 party came in — a good-natured, but decidedly 
 vulgar-looking young man, wrapped in a plaid, 
 and adorned with a superabundant profiision 
 of rings, watch-chain, charms and seals, which 
 are so attractive to the " Young England" of 
 the present day. The clergyman looked up
 
 MILLICENT. 9 
 
 from his book at an exclamation of surprise 
 from the little gu'l, when the addition — ^lie 
 could scarcely be called an acquisition — to the 
 party, entered. 
 
 ^^Ton my word, Mr. Seymour," he ex- 
 claimed, shaking the clergyman heartily by 
 the hand, '^ who would have thought of seeing 
 you here! Well, Mary, what are you doing 
 in this part of the world, eh?" and he patted 
 her cheek familiarly — a piece of friendship the 
 little lady seemed not at all to approve, for 
 she drew nearer her father, to shield her from 
 her friend, who she evidently did not like. 
 She was a lovely child, about five years old, 
 with bright flaxen cui'ls, large dark blue eyes, 
 and an expression so innocent and pure, it 
 seemed quite angelic ; and Millicent thought, 
 as she laid her tiny hand confidingly on 
 her father's arm, and looked up in his face 
 with an expression of confidence in his 
 protection, she had never seen anythmg so 
 beautiful. 
 
 " I see, Mary, we are not better friends
 
 10 MILLICENT. 
 
 than before," continued their companion; 
 "why won't you like me, eh ?'' 
 
 " Mary is a quiet little woman, Mr. Eobert- 
 son," said Mr. Seymour, stroking her little 
 hand gently ; '^ we must not expect her yet to 
 be very intimate with any one out of our own 
 circle ; but how are you all at home ? Mary 
 and I have been paying rather a long visit at 
 Ansted, with my sister-in-law, so we have 
 not heard much of the home news.'' 
 
 Now it so happened that the family to whom 
 Millicent was engaged was named Eobertson, 
 but as it is an ordinary name, she did not 
 immediately connect her vis-a-vis with the 
 Kobertsons of Staplehurst Park, nor would 
 she, perhaps, have done so, but for his answer, 
 and the subsequent conversation, to which she 
 listened attentively. 
 
 '* Oh ! they are all very well at Staplehurst 
 Park, I believe ; at least they were on Satur- 
 day, when I heard from them. I have been 
 staying some time at the Firs — old Smith's 
 place ; you know old Smith, Mr. Seymour — a
 
 MILLICENT. 11 
 
 capital fellow ! — keeps the first horses m the 
 country — splendid hunters — the governor's 
 terribly jealous of Smith's hunters, terribly 
 jealous — my mother always tries to run them 
 down, because she's afi-aid the governor intends 
 to buy one as good; but he'U not buy one, 
 not he ! — he's too fond of his money — he 
 nearly rowed my life out, because I spent my 
 last quarter's allowance before the next was 
 due; and he found out I was obliged to 
 borrow fi^om my sister Kate." 
 
 " I don't consider your father at all fond of 
 money," said Mr. Seymour, gravely; '^ the 
 village charities can testify to that ; I respect 
 him for his kind-heartedness and generosity." 
 
 " Oh ! as to kind-heartedness, my father's 
 the best tempAed man alive, only he's terribly 
 fidgetty about our being extravagant, as he 
 calls it; he expects we shall all ruin him, 
 I believe." 
 
 Mr. Seymour's benevolent countenance was 
 shaded by an expression of sadness, as he shut 
 the window to keep away the snow, which was
 
 12 MILLTCENT. 
 
 beginning to fall, from liis little Mary, and 
 drew the child closer to him. 
 
 Mr. Robertson, junior, threw out his legs, 
 drew up his collar, and checked himself in an 
 incipient whistle. 
 
 " I say, Mr. Seymour," he began, " my 
 mother's fidgetting herself to death, just now, 
 about a new governess she expects, I believe, 
 some day this week. I would not be her for 
 something ; poor Mademoiselle got turned off 
 because the old lady thought she was fasci- 
 nating, and usurped too much of the con- 
 versation. I don't wonder at it, for Kate's 
 so grand, and Clara too stupid, to suit our 
 general run of visitors." 
 
 Here Mr. Seymour tried to draw his atten- 
 tion to the country, to politics, to anything, in 
 short, but his present conversation, but to no 
 purpose — Mr. Robertson was not to be checked, 
 and he went on — 
 
 " You remember our last poor victim — Miss 
 EUerton — an uncommon pretty girl she was, 
 and very clever, too. The governor said there
 
 MILLICENT. 13 
 
 was no one like her for keeping the children 
 in order, and she made capital tea ; but Clara 
 thought she was too pretty, and my mother 
 said she dressed too much, and was dreadfully 
 proud. My father wanted her to stay, but 
 the old lady would have her own way ; so, off 
 she was sent — a terrible shame ! But the best is, 
 she has married some Colonel or other my mother 
 wanted amazingly for Kate I My mother has 
 a notion in her head, that governesses are no 
 better than servants, and that they ought to 
 dress like Quakers, and be as cringing as 
 dressmakers, and then she calls them excellent 
 young women ! I say, it is a gi^eat shame ; 
 but tlie thmg is, you see, our family is quite a 
 new one, though the girls try to make out we 
 are descended from a Sir Hugo de Courcy, 
 who came over with the Conqueror — but I 
 tell 'em it is no such thing — our grandfather 
 was only honest John Eobertson, who owned 
 the great mills at Stocklee. Oh ! what a 
 passion the girls do get in, to be siu'e I — and 
 then, if the governess happens to be of some
 
 14 MILLICENT. 
 
 old family, and sports her crest, she gets 
 worried on all sides." 
 
 Mr. Seymour here interrupted Mr. Robert- 
 son, and told him gently, and with all kindness, 
 how wrong it was to expose the faults of his 
 parents and sisters, more especially in a public 
 conveyance. "^ You must excuse me being so 
 unceremonious with you," he continued; ^^but, 
 my dear friend, we have known each other so 
 long, that you will, I am sure, pardon me, for 
 it is only my friendship for you which induces 
 me to speak thus plainly." 
 
 Poor Millicent wondered how Mr. Seymour 
 could profess friendship for a person she con- 
 sidered so familiar, and all he had said made 
 her feel more wretched ; but, in her sorrow, 
 she tried to console herself with the idea that 
 she might hope for a friend in Mr. Seymour ; 
 and she already loved the little Mary, who 
 had fallen asleep in her father's arms, looking 
 so peaceful and calm, that MiUicent, as she 
 gazed on her, envied her ignorance of the 
 earthly sorrows that pressed her with such
 
 MILLICENT. 15 
 
 an iron hand. She was thinking this, when 
 IVIr. Robertson, after a moment's pause, in 
 which he really looked serious, suddenly slap- 
 ped Mr. Seymour's hand, and said, warmly, 
 " I never in my life saw any one like you, 
 Sir ; it's impossible to get angry with you for 
 two minutes together. If you were to lecture 
 me from morning till night, I believe I should 
 like you all the better for it afterwards. If 
 ever I take a serious dodge, it will be to 
 please you — every one likes you. I'm not 
 flattering, but, upon my word, there are the 
 girls — why, they are always saying, ' I won't 
 do this, Mr. Seymour will not like it.' Kate 
 gave up her Sunday rides, because you said it 
 was wrong ; and it was only youi' sermon last 
 Christmas year that made the governor have 
 prayers. But, really, here we ai'e ! Mr. 
 Seymour, won't you wake Mary ? " 
 
 The sudden stopping of the coach made the 
 child start up, when her father lifted her 
 gently out, and then returned to assist Miss 
 Thornville. As Mr. Seymour looked with pity
 
 16 MILLICENT. 
 
 at the orphan's tearful face and dark dress, he 
 little thought how often he would listen to 
 her sorrows, and be her counsellor and friend 
 in the many trials through wliich she had to 
 pass. 
 
 The coach party were quite separated from 
 Millicent in the train, and, after a solitary 
 journey employed in reflecting on her lonely 
 condition, they arrived at Ledbury, where Mr. 
 Eobertson's carriage was waiting. Millicent 
 watched with mterest Mr. Seymour and his 
 treasure enter a fly, w^hich was to drive them 
 to Staplehurst Rectory ; and then, with a feelr 
 ing of repugnance, at a tete-a-tete drive with 
 Mr. Kobertson, junior, she let the footman put 
 her into the carriage. She wrapt herself up 
 in her travelling cloak, and leant back to 
 avoid observation, ready to cry with vexation 
 and annoyance, when she heard Mr. Eobertson's 
 voice exclaiming, ^'The governess, did you say? 
 Well, then, Sam, FU ride outside ; I dare say, 
 sh^ has lots of parcels, and she will like to be 
 all to herself I say, light my cigar — it's
 
 MILLICENT. 17 
 
 precious cold ! Shut the door, Smith — come, 
 Sam, ru drive." 
 
 A feeling of intense relief passed across 
 Millicent's mind, as the servant closed the 
 door, and she heard the son and heir of the 
 Robertsons mount the coach-box ; she never 
 doubted that he was in possession of the reins, 
 by the rapid pace with which the carriage 
 flew along, though in what direction she could 
 not ascertain, as the glimmer of their lamps 
 was the only light on that dark February 
 evening. 
 
 At length, they stopped at a lodge, and 
 she heard their driver's voice exclaiming, — 
 " Holloa, Goody — be quick !" Some one came 
 out with a lantern, the gates were slowly 
 opened, and the impatient horses dashed 
 through, while Mr. Robertson again shouted 
 something which Millicent could not hear. 
 In less than two minutes, they passed up an 
 avenue of overhanging trees, whose leafless 
 boughs every now and then beat against the 
 carriage windows, and then stopped before the 
 
 VOL. I. c
 
 18 MILLICENT. 
 
 house. Mr. Robertson sprang down from the 
 coach-box, threw away the remains of his 
 cigar, and hastened to hand the governess out, 
 not a little^ curious to see her. As the light 
 shone upon her, he uttered an exclamation of 
 surprise, on finding that she had been his late 
 companion in the stage-coach. He instantly 
 repented not having taken Mr. Seymour's 
 advice, to be more guarded in his con- 
 versation in a public conveyance — but the 
 mischief was done. He was too confused to 
 address Miss Thornville ; but, as he crossed 
 the hall, he exclaimed to himself, ^'Poor girl, 
 I'm precious sorry she knows all her miseries 
 beforehand!" Millicent looked after him, as 
 he entered the drawing-room, from whence a 
 buzz of voices issued ; but the door closed 
 again immediately, and her attention was 
 turned to the wide oak -floored hall, orna- 
 mented with full-length pannelled portraits of 
 stately dames, in hoops and curious head- 
 dresses, and cavaliers in the costume of Charles 
 the First. The picture over the mantelpiece
 
 MILLICEXT. 19 
 
 wore the gown and bands of a divine of olden 
 times, and Millicent thought she traced in the 
 calm, thoughtful expression and high intellec- 
 tual forehead, a strong likeness to Mr. Sey- 
 mour. She scarcely imagined these pictures 
 could belong to the Robertsons, whom she 
 had heard described as a new family ; whilst 
 the dignified personages, gazing down at 
 her from their tarnished gildings, were 
 evidently the ancestors of some ancient 
 house. 
 
 The servants who had been carrying in the 
 luggage did not appear to think it worth while 
 to notice Millicent, and it was not till every 
 pai'cel was brought in and placed on the table, 
 and the men had duly surveyed them, that 
 the butler came forward and said, '• Will you 
 walk this way, Ma'am ? " Millicent followed, 
 and soon found herself alone in the school- 
 room ; the fire had burnt low, and the smoul- 
 dering ashes emitted only a flickering flame 
 which illumined the hearth-rug, leaving the 
 rest of the room in darkness. The butler, 
 
 c 2
 
 20 MILLICENT. 
 
 hastily lighting a candle, left her, without 
 even placing a chair. 
 
 As Millicent glanced round the untidy 
 room, strewn about with broken toys and 
 torn books, a sudden loneliness came over 
 her ; for the first time, she felt the extreme 
 solitariness of her position, and it was only 
 the thought that Mrs. Robertson would most 
 likely come to her, and that she might be 
 surprised did she find her in tears, that 
 restrained her from a passionate burst 
 of sorrow. Millicent had only waited a 
 very few minutes, when the " old lady," as 
 her son dutifully styled her, entered the 
 room. 
 
 Mrs. Robertson was a stout, middle-aged 
 person, very stifi" and severe-looking ; she 
 advanced slowly towards Millicent, and, giving 
 her finger, she said, in a^tone evidently in- 
 tended to appear dignified, but which was far 
 otherwise, ^' I presume I address Miss Thom- 
 ville, the young person I engaged to instruct 
 my dear children ?''
 
 MILLICENT. 21 
 
 Millicent bowed in acquiescence — her heart 
 was too full to speak. 
 
 ^'You look very young," Mrs. Robertson 
 continued ; '^ but that is all the better; I prefer 
 young governesses — they are more cheerful 
 and ti'actable. I hope you are good-tempered, 
 and fond of children; mine are very affec- 
 tionate and intelligent ; they always will 
 inquke into everything, and like all their 
 questions answered ; they are extremely high- 
 spirited, and sometimes they get quite carried 
 away. I think a little mirth does them good, 
 but Mr. Eobertson likes quiet ; so when he is 
 at home, I shall expect you to amuse them, 
 and engage their attention." 
 
 "Are they very young?" Millicent asked, 
 thinking she was expected to say something. 
 
 " My Fanny is twelve years old, and 
 Augustus is eight," said Mrs. Robertson ; '' but 
 you will see them soon — make haste and take 
 off your bonnet, and I -will introduce you to 
 your dear charges — ^they join us in the drawing- 
 room, every evening after dinner ; my former
 
 22 MILLICENT. 
 
 governess seldom accompanied them, but, as 
 you are a stranger, I should prefer you 
 making their acquaintance at once, but you 
 must not expect it to be always so; and, unless 
 by my especial invitation, I hope you understand, 
 you will not be of our party every evening; Mr. 
 Ivobertson and myself prefer having our chil- 
 dren around us, without the restraint which the 
 presence of their instructress imposes ; — if you 
 ring the bell, the maid will show you your room." 
 '^ Thank you," said Millicent, sadly, though 
 why she thanked Mrs. Eobertson, was more 
 than she could have explained — that lady's 
 conversation and manner were like ice to 
 her heart, but she restrained her tears till 
 withm the seclusion of her own gloomy 
 chamber; and then, when the maid, without 
 offering to assist her, put down the candle, and 
 left her alone with the moon-beams which had 
 now risen, and were shining in at the window, 
 then it was that the orphan covered her face 
 with her hands and wept, that none were 
 near to love and bless her in her loneliness.
 
 MILLICENT. 23 
 
 CHAPTER IL 
 
 ' Within her eye 
 
 The heaven of April, ^vith its changing light, 
 
 And when it wears the blue of May, is hung. 
 
 And on her lip the rich red rose. Her hair 
 
 Is like the summer tresses of the trees, 
 
 When twilight makes them browTi, and on her cheek 
 
 Blushes the richness of an autumn sky. 
 
 With ever-shifting beauty.' 
 
 Longfellow. 
 
 A HUM of voices greeted Mrs. Robertson, as 
 she returned to the drawing-room — all her 
 children taking upon themselves to question 
 her about the new governess. Mr. Robertson 
 had learned to be silent on all points in which 
 his wife's judgment and authority were con- 
 cerned. 
 
 " Well, Mamma," said Miss Clara, " is she
 
 24 MILLICENT. 
 
 pretty ? — I hope she is coming down this 
 evening?". 
 
 " Pretty! why won't you attend, Clara, when 
 I keep telling you, she is prettier than all you 
 put together ! " said Mr. Robertson, junior, 
 mischievously. 
 
 '' Hush, Tom,'^ exclaimed his mother, while 
 Clara called out — " Tom, you are ruder than 
 «ver!" 
 
 " You always call me rude when I tell you 
 unpleasant truths," replied Tom ; " it is such 
 a familiar tune that it makes no impression." 
 
 ^^ Well, but, Tom, I am positive this gover- 
 ness is not pretty," Clara continued ; " I peeped 
 at her when you came in, and saw nothing but 
 a pale girl, in black ; — I hate black, it is so 
 dismal ; I hope she will leave it off soon." 
 
 " She shan't before she likes, Miss," said 
 Tom, putting his hands over little Fanny's 
 eyes, who screamed, " Don't, Tom ! " and, 
 tumbling against her father's chair, disturbed 
 his slumbers. 
 
 " Children, do be quiet," said Miss Robert-
 
 MILLICENT. 25 
 
 son. " Tom, you make your sisters so wild," 
 exclaimed his mother. 
 
 " I say, mother, is your new governess to 
 be cooped up in that gloomy school-room, all 
 alone, on her first evening ? " asked Tom. 
 
 ^' I wish and desire, Tom, that you wlQ not 
 talk about Miss Thorn ville," replied his 
 mother. 
 
 " I don't see what harm it does," he an- 
 swered ; ^^ and if you are afraid of my falling 
 in love with her, why, I tell you, mother, I've 
 done it already ; but that need not make you 
 uneasy ; for it is not to be supposed. Miss 
 Thomville, very pretty and very elegant, de- 
 scended from people who have owned the same 
 manor from father to son, for generations, 
 would look at Tom Eobertson, the miller's 
 grandson ! " 
 
 "Oh, Tom, how can you! — Tom, I am 
 ashamed of you," pealed from all sides ; in 
 the midst of the uproar the door opened, and 
 Millicent entered the room. 
 
 The Miss Robertsons were not a little asto-
 
 26 MILLICENT. 
 
 nished at the governess, who came forward 
 with a timid, but graceful air — her beauty 
 heightened by the blushes which now suffused 
 her countenance. Tom's eulogiums were, in- 
 deed, merited ; and if he thought her pretty, 
 wrapped up in her thick cloak, he must have 
 found her far more so, now that she had 
 removed her travelling dress, and appeared 
 simply attired in the sable garments, which set 
 off to so much advantage her fair young face, 
 overshadowed by rich brown ringlets. 
 
 Tom looked exultingly at his sisters, and 
 then said — " Miss Thornville, won't you come 
 to the fire? I am sure you must be cold." 
 
 " Yes, come and warm yourself,'^ chimed in 
 the pater familias, good-humouredly, at the 
 same time pushing back his easy chair ; " I am 
 very glad you are come; the children nm 
 wild without a governess — I get no nap now 
 of an evening." 
 
 ^^Miss Thornville," said Mrs. Robertson, 
 frowning at her husband, and coming forward 
 so as to prevent all possibility of her governess
 
 MILLICENT. 27 
 
 « 
 
 accepting Mr. Kobertson's invitation to ap- 
 proach the fire — " Miss Thorn ville, these are 
 your pupils — Augustus and Fanny, come and 
 speak to your governess — children, do you 
 hear?" 
 
 Millicent looked round to see who Mrs. 
 Robertson was addressing; for '^ children" did 
 not at all apply to the two young ladies seated 
 at the opposite side of the room, one of whom 
 was staring rudely at her, when suddenly, at a 
 second admonition from their mother, a hand- 
 some curly-headed little boy issued from be- 
 neath the sofa, and Miss Fanny made her 
 appearance from behind her father's chair. 
 
 " Foolish children," said Mrs. Eobertson, 
 laughing ; " did I not tell you there was 
 nothing to be afraid of in Miss Thornville? 
 Augustus, my dear, you look hke a wild child ! 
 This is my little boy — he is just eight." 
 
 " Old enough to be better," remarked his 
 father. • 
 
 " My dear John ! " said Mrs. Robertson, 
 sharply ; "• and this is Fanny-^-she was twelve
 
 28 MILLICENT. 
 
 in December — Fanny, if you romp so, I shall 
 be obliged to send you to bed." 
 
 Fanny looked as if she knew her mother 
 did not mean what she said, and the next 
 minute she was swinging on the piano stool. 
 
 Augustus looked at Millicent for a few 
 minutes; and Mrs. Robertson, thinking she 
 had done her duty to the governess, left her 
 to her own devices, and returned to the sofa ; 
 presently the child said — 
 
 " I mean to like you, Miss Thorn ville, and 
 will you tell me a story, if I am good?" 
 
 " Yes, dear," replied Millicent, smoothing 
 his tangled hair ; ^^ what will you like to 
 hear?" 
 
 " About naughty boys," replied Augustus, 
 coming closer to Millicent, who had quietly 
 seated herself, and twining one of her long 
 ringlets round his finger. 
 
 *' I don't know any about naughty boys," 
 sSid Millicent, gently disengaging her curl. 
 " Good children are much nicer to talk of" 
 " Oh, no, they are not," continued Augustus,
 
 MILLICENT. 29 
 
 again pulling her curl ; "I like Topsy, in 
 ' Uncle Tom'— it's such fun !" 
 
 ^^ But do you not like Eva better? and you 
 know Topsy tried to be good at last." 
 
 " I know a gii'l just like Eva," Augustus 
 said, sitting down on a stool at Millicent's 
 feet ; ^^ it is Mary Seymour — Mr. Seymour is 
 our clergyman — and Mary has hair just like 
 Eva's — what pretty hair you've got, Miss 
 Thornville ! — 1 wish sisters would have 
 curls " 
 
 ^' Hush, dear !" intenrupted Millicent, 
 softly; "shall I tell you the history of a 
 white rabbit?" 
 
 '^ Oh yes, do please begin !" 
 
 " Well, then, hsten attentively. ' There 
 was once a little boy — ' " 
 
 " Master Augustus, will you please to come 
 to bed ?" said an old woman, who had opened 
 the door, unheard. 
 
 " Oh, nurse, no — I can't, nurse !" whimpered 
 the little boy. 
 
 Just at that moment, Fanny's swinging
 
 30 MILLICENT. 
 
 suddenly terminated in the downfall of both 
 herself and the piano stool, which last knocked 
 violently against the piano. Miss Fanny, 
 though unhurt, thought fit to assist Augustus 
 in his crying ; while Miss Kobertson and 
 Millicent both rushed forward — the one to 
 see after the state of her piano, and the other 
 to inquire if her pupil were hurt. The result 
 of Fanny's fall was, that, instead of Augustus 
 going to bed alone, Miss Fanny, at the earnest 
 entreaties of both her father and sisters, 
 accompanied him. After the fracas with the 
 children, Millicent sat for a few minutes in 
 silence, and then had leisure to observe the 
 two Miss Eobertsons. 
 
 Kate, the elder, the only one of the family, 
 except Augustus, who did not show in look 
 and manner their plebeian origin, was a stylish, 
 handsome girl. She was dressed fashionably, 
 but with no display or finery; her splendid 
 black hair, braided down her face, and coiled 
 in large plaits round her head, gave a classical 
 expression to her countenance ; she had fine
 
 MILLICENT. 31 
 
 dark eyes, and a mouth as proud, though by 
 no means so sweet, as Millicent's ; her com- 
 plexion was dark, with a high colour ; she 
 had a refined voice, and perfect ease of man- 
 ner ; and, though only two-and-twenty, she 
 looked considerably Millicent's senior. A first- 
 rate education at a fashionable school, and 
 associating with guis far above her own rank 
 of life, had made her dissatisfied with the 
 society of home ; and, knowing who ]\Iillicent 
 was, Kate hailed her coming into the family 
 with pleasure, thinking that she would at 
 length find some one with tastes congenial to 
 her own. Contrary to girls in her sphere, 
 Kate Eobertson did not look to riches only for 
 friendship, but the charm and attraction to 
 her was refinement and cultivation of mind ; 
 and this it was, perhaps, that made her e^dnce 
 a contempt for her mother and sister, at once 
 unbecoming and unchristian. She was proud, 
 but not conceited — conscious of her own 
 attractions, without being vain — generous, 
 open-hearted, and afiectionate — but disdainful
 
 32 MILLICENT. 
 
 and haughty in her manner towards those she 
 despised; in short, Kate Robertson merely- 
 required the guiding influence of one she 
 could both love and respect, to correct the 
 faults of which she was almost unconscious. 
 
 Her sister Clara is described in a few words ; 
 quite unlike her sister, she was thin and 
 pale, with expressionless features, and a languid 
 air; having always had delicate health, Mrs. 
 Robertson preferred her education being 
 carried on at home, instead of sending her 
 to school — in consequence she had been much 
 indulged, and this added to her natural dis- 
 position, which was unaimable and selfish, 
 made her disliked out of their family circle. 
 Mr, Seymour, however, pitied her, and used 
 his influence to counteract these faults, for 
 their excellent pastor saw in the neglected 
 girl, a soul to save, and he laboured hard 
 to plant the love of God in her heart, that 
 thus a pathway might be made for those 
 virtues, which would change dislike into 
 love.
 
 MILLICENT. 38 
 
 While Millicent was sitting unnoticed, she 
 became unavoidably the hearer of a little 
 dialogue carried on between the two sisters, 
 in rather a loud whisper — 
 
 '^ I am sure I don't want her here," re- 
 plied Clara, in answer to something Kate 
 said in a low tone. 
 
 " How can you be so unkind?" replied 
 Kate ; '^ you do not practise Mr. Seymour's 
 lessons on amiability." 
 
 " Nor you either," retorted Clara. 
 
 ^* They were not given to me," rephed her 
 sister. 
 
 ^^Well," said Clara, crossly, "but there is 
 no room here." 
 
 Kate made no reply, but cast a scornful 
 look at her sister, and then di-awing a chair 
 between them, said in the courteous tone 
 she knew so well how to assume, '' I am 
 sure you must be cold, there, Miss Thorn ville; 
 do come to the table; perhaps, you would like 
 to look at some engravings?" 
 
 MiUicent immediately accepted Kate's in- 
 
 VOL. I. D
 
 34 MILLICENT. 
 
 vitation, and they were soon busily engaged in 
 turning over a valuable collection of foreign 
 prints Miss Eobertson had recently received 
 from Italy. Kate arranged the lamp so as to 
 throw a good light on them, and seemed deter- 
 mined to make herself agreeable and friendly 
 to Millicent. 
 
 "Have you ever been in Florence?" she 
 asked; "these engravings are taken principally 
 from the Florentine Gallery." 
 
 " I know the originals well/' replied Milli- 
 cent; " they are strikingly beautiful." 
 
 " I envy you," exclaimed Kate ; "I have 
 never been further on the continent than Paris ; 
 for me, the pleasures of travelling are yet to 
 come." 
 
 " It is, indeed, a great pleasure," said Milli- 
 cent, becoming animated; ''the lovely scenery, 
 the treasures of art to be met with in almost 
 every city, especially in Italy ; the study of 
 men and manners, the total change of life — all 
 enlarge the mind, and so increase our sources 
 of happiness."
 
 MILLICENT. 35 
 
 " They must, indeed," said Kate ; " but to 
 enjoy travelling thoroughly, the language of 
 the people should be first acquired." 
 
 " Modern languages are becoming generally 
 studied," replied Millicent ; "I wonder why 
 German was so little taught formerly, it is such 
 a noble language." 
 
 " Are you acquainted with it ?" asked Kate. 
 
 " Yes, perfectly," was the reply. " I had a 
 
 German governess for some years; and, besides, 
 
 I have resided several months in the country, 
 
 when I scarcely spoke a word of English." 
 
 " If you have no objection," said Kate, ^^and 
 would give me a lesson now and then, I should 
 think it so very kind. I have never yet 
 studied German ; I think at school it is more 
 usual to teach ItaUan, and since I have been 
 at home I have never had an opportunity of 
 learning it. I will endeavour not to be 
 troublesome, and hope you will accede to my 
 request ; it would be so pleasant to study to- 
 gether during the long evenings." 
 
 " I should enjoy it extremely," replied Milli- 
 
 D 2
 
 86 . MILLICENT. 
 
 cent ; "I have plenty of books, and, if you 
 like, we can begin to-morrow." 
 
 " That will be delightful !" exclaimed Kate, 
 her face brightening. " I have had no one to 
 study with me since I left school ; my sister's 
 tastes and mine are perfectly different." 
 
 Their conversation was interrupted by Mr. 
 Kobertson, saying, suddenly, " I wonder, Kate, 
 when the young Lord will come back to the 
 Chase ?" 
 
 " I scarcely think he could return before 
 next week, Papa," replied Kate, turning to her 
 father, while Millicent employed herself in 
 looking at the engi^avings; '^the funeral only 
 took place on Monday, and he must have 
 much to arrange." 
 
 " Perhaps," continued Mr. Robertson, ''he 
 will not come back to Horton at all ; his uncle's 
 estates will be his home now, I suppose." 
 
 "No, you are mistaken, Papa," replied Kate; 
 '' 1 learnt in a letter from Agnes Manners, this 
 morning, that her Papa, who is one of the ex- 
 ecutors, told her Lord Fortescue intends to
 
 MILLICENT. 37 
 
 continue at Horton Chase, at least for the 
 present ; I imagine he will only be too glad to 
 return to his old home ; Ashbui'ton Hall and 
 the neighbourhood must be terribly dull, judg- 
 ing from Agnes' description." 
 
 *^ Lord Fortescue is a very odd young man," 
 observed Mr. Robertson, musingly. 
 
 " Do you think so, Papa ?" said Kate. ^'Mr. 
 Seymour says he is very superior in every 
 way, extremely good and charitable, but the 
 peculiar manner in which he was brought up 
 may make him rather reserved." 
 
 '^ Mr. Seymour always makes his favouiites 
 out rather too perfect," remarked her mother. 
 
 "I do not at all agree with you. Mamma," 
 exclaimed Kate, haughtily. " I have never 
 heard Mr. Seymour deviate in the least from 
 the truth, and I always find ' his favourites ' 
 persons it would be an honour to resemble." 
 
 " Kate's becoming pious all at once," said 
 her brother, who had been the greater part of 
 the evening fast asleep, with his legs dangling 
 over the arm of the chair.
 
 38 MILLICENT. 
 
 *^ No," said Clara, who had not spoken once 
 since Kate's reproving look ; *^"the fact is she 
 has fallen in love with this paragon * of good- 
 ness." 
 
 "How vulgar you are," exclaimed Kate, 
 contemptuously. 
 
 " Never mind her, Katie," said her father in 
 a good-tempered tone ; "I should think the 
 Horton people will be delighted to have their 
 young Lord settled among them again." 
 
 '' I hope he will care for their interests," 
 replied Katie. 
 
 " He will, if he resembles his mother. What 
 a benefactress they had in poor Mrs. Hay ward! 
 She was the sweetest creature imaginable — it 
 was a pleasure to speak to her. I cannot 
 think how any man could have been such a 
 brute as to treat her ill." 
 
 "Poor thing!" said Kate; "I often hear 
 Mrs. Seymour speak of her with the greatest 
 satisfaction; and Mrs. Blake, at the Chase, 
 never mentions her without shedding tears. 
 Her memory must be very dear to her son."
 
 MILLICEXT. 39 
 
 " I suppose Lord Fortescue -^vill call on us, 
 when he returns," interrupted Clara. 
 
 ^' I do not think he "^ill be in a hurry," 
 Kate replied. 
 
 " Why not ?'' asked her mother. 
 
 Kate did not answer, but began talking 
 again to ^lillicent. 
 
 Mrs. Eobertson looked extremely annoyed, 
 not because Kate did not answer — to that she 
 was quite accustomed — but she was vexed that 
 Miss Thornville should receive so much atten- 
 tion ; she expected, also, that Millicent would 
 have offered to leave the drawing-room with 
 the children, and she was just concocting 
 something severe, not for her daughter, for 
 she stood — as did every one in the house — 
 too much in awe of Kate, of whom she was, 
 besides, very proud, ever to think of reproving 
 her, — ^but for the poor, unoffending governess. 
 Kate seemed, however, to anticipate what was 
 coming — for, by long study of her mother s 
 countenance, Kate always knew when she was 
 going to say something disagreeable — and,
 
 40 MILLICENT. 
 
 putting away her work, which was lying on 
 the table, she said, rather loudly, " If you are 
 as tired. Miss Thornville, after a long journey, 
 as I am without one, you will perhaps follow 
 my example of going to bed." 
 
 " I shall gladly do so," replied Millicent, 
 "for I am really very fatigued." 
 
 Kate rose, rang the bell for the tea things — 
 ^hich had come in during their conversation — 
 to be removed, asked Tom to light two candles, 
 and then went the round of ' good nights,' 
 very coldly, to every one but her father, over 
 whose grey hair she fondly passed her hand, 
 as he said, " God bless you, my Katie !" 
 
 Mr. Robertson shook hands kindly with 
 Millicent, saying, " I hope you will sleep well. 
 Mamma, is there a fire in Miss Thornville's 
 room ? It has not been used for so long, it 
 might be damp." 
 
 '^ I have seen to that," said Kate, without 
 waiting for her mother's reply; " and, if Sarah 
 has done as she was desired, there has been a 
 fire there for some hours. Are you ready,
 
 MILLICENT. 41 
 
 Miss Thornville ? " — and, taking the candle 
 from her brother, she opened the door. Tom 
 squeezed Millicent's fingers painfully, as he 
 wished her ' Good night,' which caused a 
 moment's delay. Kate again said, '^ Miss 
 ThomTille, are you ready?" — ^frowned at Tom, 
 and, waiting for Millicent to go fii'st, closed 
 the door hastily. 
 
 The servant who showed Millicent her room, 
 had taken her up a back flight of stairs, lead- 
 ing directly from the school-room ; but Kate 
 conducted her a different way, by the broad 
 oak staircase, and down a wide passage. At 
 the end was a diamond -paned window, at 
 which the moonbeams were streaming in; Kate 
 paused a moment, and then said, *' This is my 
 favourite window — you can see all over the 
 grounds from here. How the moon sparkles 
 on the pond ! I had no idea it would prove 
 such a lovely night." 
 
 " Nor I," replied Millicent; ^4t was perfectly 
 dark when I first arrived." 
 
 " Can't you see the spire of the church in
 
 42 MTLLICENT. 
 
 the distance?" asked Kate — ^Hhere, Miss 
 Thornville, directly to the right.'' 
 
 *' I fancy there is a dim outline," replied 
 Millicent. 
 
 Kate leant her elbow on the window-ledge, 
 and fixed her eyes, for some moments, on the 
 distance. Millicent looked out, too, in silence, 
 till suddenly Kate started up with a deep sigh, 
 and a pensive expression stole over her coun- 
 tenance — '^ Miss Thornville," she exclaimed, 
 *4t is very thoughtless to keep you standing 
 here in the cold, but I always pause at this 
 window as I go up to bed. I like, on moon- 
 light nights, to take a last look at great, glorious 
 nature before I sleep, and, at this point, the 
 view is the loveliest." 
 
 Millicent looked at her companion, and saw 
 with surprise that her eyes were filled with 
 tears. 
 
 Miss Eobertson, noticing Millicent's expres- 
 sion, said, " Shall we come? — star-gazing, you 
 think, is not going to bed." 
 
 Millicent smiled an assent, and followed
 
 MILLICENT. 43 
 
 Kate through a green-baize door, opening 
 directly on a back landing, and the staircase 
 up which Millicent had been first conducted. 
 Kate cast a look of dissatisfaction round Milli- 
 cent's room, who fancied she heard her mur- 
 mur — ^' Disgraceful ! but this shallhe altered." 
 Certainly, Kate was not wrong, if she meant 
 the term ^ disgraceful ' to apply to Millicent's 
 room, which was certainly very miserable. It 
 was situated at the corner of the house, and, 
 consequently, exposed on two sides to the 
 cold winds — and, as if this were not enough, 
 the door did not fit, and let in a most uncom- 
 fortable draught. Mrs. Eobertson evidently 
 did not think curtains at all necessary to the 
 little iron bedstead, and the drapery to the 
 single window was of the commonest white 
 dimity; the rest of the furniture was ex- 
 tremely scanty, and of the humblest descrip- 
 tion, and the whole room was entirely destitute 
 of comfort. 
 
 Millicent's luggage, which occupied the 
 principal space in the small chamber, still
 
 44 MILLICENT. 
 
 remained uncorded and in the wrappers, just 
 as it had been carried up. Millicent knelt 
 down, and commenced silently endeavouring 
 to unloose the thick knots with her slender 
 fingers. Kate rang the bell violently, and 
 stirred the fire together, which was very low. 
 " Sarah," she said, in an angry tone, to the 
 maid who answered the summons, " uncord 
 Miss Thornville's boxes directly, and remove 
 the wrappers. It was excessively lazy and 
 careless of you, not to do so before ! I 
 thought I desired you to keep up a good fire," 
 Kate resumed, when the boxes had been freed 
 from their covers. 
 
 " There was a very good one, Miss, a 
 quarter of an hour ago," replied Sarah, 
 timidly. 
 
 " Then, pray, make a good one now," said 
 Kate. 
 
 Sarah commenced putting the coals together. 
 Kate placed her small foot on the side of the 
 fender, and rested her elbow on the mantel- 
 piece, whilst Millicent busied herself in un-
 
 MILLICENT. 45 
 
 packing some of her things. When Sarah 
 had arranged the fire, and left the room, Kate 
 said, turning to Millicent — 
 
 " I hope you mil find her attentive — she is 
 entirely the school-room maid, and it is her 
 business to wait upon you — pray ask for any- 
 thing you may require/' 
 
 " Thank you," replied Millicent ; and then, 
 after a pause, she said — "Miss Robertson, I 
 think I travelled with your clergyman to-day 
 in the stage-coach from Heatherton to Red- 
 Cross." 
 
 " With Mr. Seymour ?" exclaimed Kate ; 
 "did you like him?" 
 
 " I cannot tell," replied Millicent ; " he did 
 not speak to me ; but, judging from his con- 
 versation with your brother, he must be very 
 good and amiable." 
 
 " He is, indeed, good," said Kate ; " I do 
 not think there is any one better in the 
 world." 
 
 "His little girl is very lovely," Millicent 
 said ; "he appeared so fond of her."
 
 46 MILLICENT. 
 
 '^ Little Mary is all he has to love," replied 
 Kate. 
 
 ^' Is Mrs. Seymour dead ?" asked Millicent. 
 
 " Yes ; they had only been married two 
 years when she died ; I was from home then, 
 but I believe Mr. Seymour was almost broken- 
 hearted, though he bore his grief beautifully. 
 His mother lives with him now ; she is very 
 old, and scarcely ever goes out, but I often 
 visit her — she is a charming old lady." 
 
 *' I suppose Mr. Seymour is a great favourite 
 with his parishioners?" said Millicent. 
 
 " Indeed he is — they cannot help liking 
 him," replied Kate. '' The village is quite 
 changed since he has had the care of the 
 parish ; the people are so much improved in 
 every way — that is the universal opinion — 
 though, of course, 1 cannot recollect much 
 about the state of Staplehurst before his time ; 
 besides, I was constantly at school." 
 
 ^* Has Mr. Seymour been here very long?" 
 asked Millicent. 
 
 ^* Ten years," replied Kate ; " that is to
 
 MILLICENT. 47 
 
 say, he has been our rector ten years ; he was 
 six and twenty when he succeeded to the 
 living — but he .has always lived at Staplehurst 
 — ^he was born m this house." 
 
 " Indeed !" said Millicent, a little surprised. 
 
 " This is the Seymour's property," said 
 Kate; ^' Papa only has a forty years' lease. 
 Colonel Seymour, the present owner, and our 
 rector s uncle, resides in Italy ; he was a man 
 of extravagant habits, and obliged to let his 
 estate. At his death, the property goes to 
 Mr. Seymour's elder brother, an officer in the 
 Guards, with the exception, of course, of the 
 Rectory, which has always belonged to a 
 younger son since the reign of Elizabeth. 
 Mr. Seymour's father was the former rector." 
 
 " When I came in, I noticed a portrait over 
 the hall fireplace — is that one of the Seymours 
 — I fancied I traced a likeness to your rector?" 
 said MiUicent. 
 
 "That is Doctor Everard Seymour, who 
 was chassed from Staplehurst during the Pro- 
 tectorate ; he took refuge in Holland, and his
 
 48 MILLICENT. 
 
 daugliter was one of the ladies of honour to 
 Mary of Orange." 
 
 " How very interesting," said Milhcent j 
 "is the present owner of Staplehurst old?" 
 
 " About sixty, I believe/' replied Kate ; "I 
 do not suppose he will live to regain posses- 
 sion of Staplehurst. Papa talks of building a 
 place at Westworth, a village not very far from 
 here; it is very beautifully situated, and 
 within a short diive of this. We were all 
 born here, and should not like to leave the 
 neighbourhood — but we have seventeen years 
 more of the lease, yet." 
 
 " That is a long time to look forward," said 
 Millicent. 
 
 "Yes, it is," said Kate, thoughtfully; "but, 
 Miss Thornville, I must not keep you up any 
 longer; I hope you will sleep well — I am 
 sorry your room is so uncomfortable, it is 
 much too small for you — I will have another 
 arranged to-morrow ; when I found this had 
 been chosen for you, I spoke about it, but it 
 was too late to alter it."
 
 MILLICENT. 49 
 
 Kate looked much annoyed, but ^lillicent 
 did not say, " Never mind," for she did mind 
 verv much being put into such a ^\Tetched 
 room. 
 
 "Good night. Miss Thorayille," continued 
 Kate, shaking hands, warmly. " I hope, when 
 we know each other, we shall be great 
 friends." 
 
 "I am sure we shall — good night. Miss 
 Robertson," said Millicent, closing the door 
 after Kate, not a little pleased with her 
 kindness ; and Kate was equally pleased with 
 Millicent — she was charmed with her soft, 
 lady-like manners, and ease of conversation — 
 and she felt what a comfort a companion, 
 whose tastes agreed with her own, would be-; 
 but Kate was thoroughly annoyed with Mrs. 
 Robertson, in persisting in gi^^ng her the same 
 bed-room she had so often objected to before 
 as unfit for ony lady. Kate determined it 
 should be altered — she had been the champion 
 of all the governesses who had come and gone 
 from Staplehurst, though she had never yet 
 
 VOL. 1. E
 
 50 MILLICENT. 
 
 found one whose tastes assimilated with her 
 own, but she had always behaved to them with 
 the greatest consideration and kindness. But 
 Kate was prepared to treat Millicent quite 
 differently — a lady placed by misfortune in 
 her position, demanded more than considera- 
 tion — ^more than kindness ; Kate felt that she 
 required friendship and sympathy, and this she 
 determined, in spite of opposition, to give her. 
 I will not attempt to describe Millicent 
 Thornville's thoughts that night, except that 
 Kate was often present, and her first prayer at 
 Staplehurst was for her new friend.
 
 MILLICENT. 51 
 
 CHAPTEE III. 
 
 * My mother ! when I leam'd that thou wast diad, 
 Say, wast thou conscious of the tears I shed 1 
 Hover'd thy spirit o'er thy sorrowing son, 
 "Wretch — even then, life's journey just begun ? 
 I learn'd at last submission to my lot, 
 But, though I less deplor'd thee, ne'er forgot.' 
 
 COWPFR. 
 
 The grey morning was dawning, when Milli- 
 cent awoke from a sweet dream of home ; but, 
 alas ! for her, it was but a dream ! Heather- 
 ton was many miles distant, and if near, it 
 would have been still the same for Millicent, 
 for it was tenanted by strangers, and no longer 
 the property of her, who appeared to all just- 
 minded persons the rightful owner. Milhcent, 
 however, did not long indulge in vain regrets, 
 but repeating, as had been her custom from 
 childhood on rising, the ^Morning Hymn,' 
 she drew aside her curtains and looked out of 
 
 E 2 

 
 52 MILLICENT. 
 
 the window, but the prospect was veiy different 
 to the one her mind had pictured — no cliurch 
 spire stood forth against the grey morning — 
 no elms waved before her casement — no frost- 
 covered pond or snowy grass met her ex- 
 pectant eye; the governess's room was over 
 the servants' offices, and the view, tliouglit 
 sufficient for the refined and elegant girl, was 
 the stable yard, and the tops of the trees 
 beyond ; that was all her eyes had to rest on, 
 except a horse under the hands of a groom. 
 She let her blind down again with a sigh, and 
 after the sigh came a tear, and then an earnest 
 supplication for help to bear with patience the 
 trials she already foresaw would strew her 
 pathway. As Millicent surveyed her room, so 
 comfortless and commonly furnished, she could 
 not think why, in this large and beautiful 
 house, such an apartment had been singled 
 out for her use — her own governess had been 
 mistress of a pleasant suite of rooms, and was 
 always treated with kindness and respect by 
 lier parents; and poor Millicent could not avoid
 
 MILLICENT. 53 
 
 contrasting her mother's fascinating, winning 
 kindness, with Mrs. Robertson's overbearing, 
 consequential manner ; but she had yet more of 
 Mrs. Robertson to see, and that under a worse 
 aspect than on the preceding evening. Milli- 
 cent paused at Kate's favourite window, in 
 going down; the moonlight night had been 
 succeeded by a bright frosty morning, and the 
 first objects that met her view, were not only 
 the village church, crowned with the slant- 
 ing sunbeams, but the chimneys of the little 
 rectory nestlmg under its shadow, and the 
 winding wreaths of grey smoke that rose in 
 vapoury stillness from their midst. The church- 
 yard and rectory-garden joined one part of the 
 park, and the Robertson's had a private gate 
 leading into the former. Millicent would have, 
 lingered longer, but hearing Mrs. Robertson's 
 voice, she hastened down to receive her instruc- 
 tions for the morning studies ; at the foot of 
 the principal staircase, she was met by that 
 lady, who scarcely condesending the usual 
 morning courtesies, said, *' Miss Thornville, I
 
 54 MILLICENT. 
 
 am surprised Sarah did not shew you the 
 schookoom stairs, which my former governesses 
 used on every occasion; visitors do not generally 
 like to meet a stranger about the house, and 
 passing them would place you in an embarass- 
 ing position." 
 
 Millicent stared at Mrs. Eobertson in sur- 
 prise, scarcely understanding what she meant ; 
 however, before she could make any answer, 
 Mrs. Robertson resumed, " I hope you have 
 industrious habits ; the dear children have gone 
 rather back, since Miss EUerton left, and I 
 should like them to get on nicely ; Augustus is 
 very quick, but you must not cross his temper — 
 he is rather excitable, though very good-hearted." 
 
 " He appears a nice little fellow," MiUicent 
 replied ; ^' perhaps you will be kind enough to 
 tell me how their time is to be divided?" 
 
 Mrs. Robertson told her the schoolroom 
 hours, and then displayed her ignorance by 
 the way in which she confused their studies, 
 till Millicent in kindness helped her through 
 the list, and then sought her pupils.
 
 MILLICENT. 55 
 
 She found Fanny, nothing daunted by her 
 last night's overthrow, again at her favourite 
 occupation of swinging on the piano stool, 
 whilst Augustus had converted the poker into 
 a horse, which he was urging forward with 
 gi'eat speed, to the extreme detriment of an 
 excessively gaudy new carpet, which had only 
 lately graced the schoolroom. 
 
 ^* My dear child," said Millicent, who could 
 scarcely refrain from laughing, ^' do put your 
 horse back in his stable." 
 
 " Oh, Miss Thornville, the story you pro- 
 mised me ! " shouted Augustus. 
 
 " I never tell them to little l)oys who ride 
 on pokers, or little girls who swing on piano- 
 stools," replied their governess. 
 
 Augustus immediately consigned the poker 
 to the fender, calling — ^' Come, Fanny, listen 
 to the story." 
 
 " I don't want to hear it,'^ she pouted. 
 
 "I am not going to tell one now," said 
 Millicent ; — ^' come, get me your books, and let 
 me hear how nicely you can do your lessons."
 
 56 MILLICENT. 
 
 By the time the children chose to under- 
 stand she was really in earnest, and had found 
 in a cupboard — full of toys, dolls, and Looks, all 
 heaped together, in terrible confusion — ^the 
 hymn-books that were to commence their 
 dreaded morning studies, the breakfast-bell 
 sounded ; and, before Millicent discovered she 
 was expected to join the family with her pupils, 
 the children had rushed off into the dining- 
 room. Millicent quickly followed, and found 
 herself entering with the servants, who scarcely 
 waited for her to pass in to prayers before 
 them. Their want of respect annoyed Milli- 
 cent, extremely — tears of vexation filled her 
 eyes, and she took a vacant chair between the 
 children, without noticing that no one wished 
 her good morning, or that Kate and Tom were 
 not down. She tried to give her undivided 
 attention to the prayers, but in vain — the 
 thought would rise to her mind of the two^ 
 humbling circumstances which ah'eady, that 
 morning, had given her young heart pain — 
 first being told to go up the back stall's — she,
 
 MILLICENT. 57 
 
 the daughter of a proud family I — and then 
 walking mto the room with the servants, who 
 evidently thought her little or no better than 
 themselves ! No wonder that the former 
 heiress of Heatherton felt ready to repine at 
 her hard lot. But pause, Millicent, ere you 
 murmur. Your path beset with cares and 
 vexations now, may one day brighten into 
 smiles — no well-sustained sorrow but has its 
 reward. ' Bear in mind, as much as possible, 
 that spring and summer will return — that the 
 sun is behind a cloud, and will come forth in 
 due time ! ' — If God cares for the young 
 ravens, surely he cares for thee — a young and 
 fatherless girl ! Thoughts, such as these, at* 
 length calmed her mind ; and had it not been 
 for Fanny, on one side; scratching ^ F. Robert- 
 son ' on the back of her chau^ with a pin, and 
 Augustus, on the other, pulling hard at a button, 
 which he had almost succeeded in dragging out of 
 the cushion, Millicent would have been enabled 
 to listen to the short prayer which concluded 
 theu' morning devotions ; though that, too,
 
 58 MILLICENT. 
 
 was interrupted by — first, Kate, in her riding- 
 dress, and then, Tom, in morning ne^ 
 
 ^^ Good morning. Miss Thornville," said 
 Kate, after greeting her father, the only mem- 
 ber of the family she favoured by her notice. 
 ^^ It is going to be a lovely day. I have been 
 out in the park, trying my new horse, 
 Snowdrop." 
 
 *^ Is it not very cold ?" asked Millicent. 
 
 " Cold ? — ^that it is," exclaimed Tom, coming 
 round with the wish of shaking hands with 
 Millicent, who, however, seeing his intentions, 
 commenced cutting some bread for Augustus. 
 
 ^* I say," continued Tom, ^'let me cut the 
 bread — come, turn out, youngster." 
 
 '^ No, I shan't," replied Augustus. 
 
 "Won't you?— Well, old fellow, we'll see;" 
 and Tom lifted his little brother from his 
 chair, and took possession of it himself, at the 
 same time claiming the knife and loaf from 
 Millicent's reluctant hands. 
 
 Clara burst into a loud laugh, while Angus-
 
 MILLICENT. 59 
 
 tus began to kick his brother with all his 
 might. Fanny clapped her hands, and Tom 
 called out, '' Go it." 
 
 " Augustus, don't, there's a good boy — 
 Fanny, for shame ! " said poor Millicent, in 
 despair. 
 
 ^'I am surprised, Miss Thomyille," ex- 
 claimed Mrs. Kobertson, in high indignation; 
 " if this is your control ! — Tom, I insist — Miss 
 Thomville, is Augustus to be turned from his 
 seat, without your interference ? " 
 
 "Mamma, dear Mamma," said poor Mr. 
 Robertson, in distress ; " come, Tom, there's a 
 good fellow ! — come, children, come — this is a 
 wretched breakfast-table ! " 
 
 So thought poor Millicent, who was expected 
 to prevent Tom's rude sallies — to keep order 
 with children who were never taught to obey 
 — and preserve peace, where peace was seldom 
 seen. 
 
 " I protest. Miss Kate, you see a letter in 
 the coals," said Tom, resigning his usurpe( 
 chair, and pulling the feather of Kate's ha^
 
 60 MILLICENT* 
 
 who was gazing abstractedly into the fire. 
 Kate vouchsafed no other reply than a frown, 
 and untying her hat, and throwing it with her 
 gloves on a side table, she sat down opposite 
 Millicent, who had pacified Augustus, at his 
 mother's request, with a plate of ham. 
 
 ^' I congratulate you on having undertaken 
 the instruction of the two worst-behaved chil- 
 dren in the county," Kate said, looking at 
 Mrs. Robertson, as much as to say, "You can't 
 deny it." 
 
 " How severe you are, Kate," said Clara. 
 ^' When we were children, I dare say we were 
 just as wild." 
 
 " I don't doubt you made a merit of being 
 so," Kate answered. " Miss Thorn ville, do 
 let the children take care of themselves — you 
 have no breakfast. Tom, send me a wing of 
 that chicken." 
 
 " No, Miss, you don't deserve it — a chicken 
 has only two wings, one is already gone, and 
 the other is for Miss Thorn ville." 
 
 " For once in my life, I am not angry with
 
 MILLICENT. 61 
 
 you ; it was for Miss Thornville I wanted it," 
 replied Kate ; then, turning to Mr. Eobertson, 
 she said, " Papa, will you ride with me to 
 Horton to-day ? " 
 
 " Yes, Katie, to be sure I will." 
 
 " I would come, too, only I am going out 
 with the hounds," said Tom. 
 
 " You will certainly get your neck broken 
 some day," said Clara, who was veiy timid. 
 
 *' So much the better for the family in gene- 
 raV replied Tom ; '^ and as to you, Katie, 
 you will have one less to scold." 
 
 '' I never scold you unless I am obliged." 
 
 " Capital !— first-rate," said Tom; *' still, 
 Miss Kate, in spite of your lectures, you are 
 the best of the lot, with one exception," — and 
 he looked knowingly at Millicent, who hap- 
 pened at that moment to be looking at him. 
 The colour mounted to her cheeks. Tom 
 laughed at her confusion, and then said, *' I 
 know why Kate is going to Horton." 
 
 '^ Indeed !" replied Kate. 
 
 '' Oh, do tell," said Clara.
 
 62 MILLICENT. 
 
 " No, Miss Inquisitive, I shall not satisfy 
 you ; it is too good for listeners," — and he 
 whispered something to Kate. 
 
 ^' Mamma, do speak to Tom," said Clara, 
 in an angry tone. *'Tom, it is very rude of 
 you to whisper. Kate, I am surprised you 
 listen." 
 
 Kate tossed her beautiful head, and said 
 aloud, ^' Tom, you shall not talk in that 
 manner ; how can you wonder that I am 
 displeased?" 
 
 '' Well, Kate, I only said you " 
 
 ^^ Hush, Tom !" she exclaimed. '^ Will you 
 never learn to behave like a gentleman ? " 
 
 Just at that moment Augustus contrived to 
 upset the contents of his cup into Millicent's 
 lap. 
 
 " You should not have sat so close to him, 
 Miss Thornville," said Mrs. Robertson. ^' Dear 
 me ! governesses are always unfortunate." 
 
 ^* People generally try to make them so," 
 said Kate, softly, but still loud enough for her 
 mother to hear. '' Miss Thornville, your
 
 MILLICENT. 63 
 
 breakfast has met TN^th an agreeable finale I 
 — mine is finished, so I will help you with 
 your unfortunate crape. Augustus, I shall give 
 Mary Seymour those pictures I bought for you;" 
 — and Kate sailed out of the room after Mil- 
 licent, holding up the long folds of her habit. 
 
 " There go two uncommon pretty gu'ls, but 
 the governess is the best of the two ! " ex- 
 claimed Tom. 
 
 ^'Tom, I am surprised you can say such 
 things ! If Kate is going to make her a com- 
 panion, I shall have trouble enough; I thought 
 Kate had more pride," said Mrs. Eobertson, 
 red with indignation. 
 
 ^^ I think her tastes are much better than 
 those who everlastingly taste bread and 
 butter," he replied, putting the newspaper 
 over Clara's plate, who was still continuing 
 her breakfast ; then, getting up, he said, 
 "Good-bye, I'm off. Don't be surprised, 
 father, if you meet me in Horton." 
 
 "What are you going there for?" asked 
 Clara — but Tom had gone.
 
 64 MILLICENT. 
 
 *' I am surprised, John," said Mrs. Eobert- 
 son, " at Tom's behaviour to Miss Thorn ville; 
 but he will flirt with every governess that 
 comes into the house. My advice is thrown 
 away — you must use your authority." 
 
 " Well, well, my dear, I'll see about it," 
 replied her husband, taking up the newspaper 
 and leaving the room. Augustus and Fanny 
 ran out, too, after quietly stealing a handful of 
 sugar. 
 
 "Well, Clara," said Mrs. Robertson, when 
 they were alone, "what do you think of our 
 new governess?" 
 
 " Just like their set in general — very airish 
 and conceited," replied Clara. 
 
 " I'm more annoyed than I choose to express 
 about Kate," said Mrs. Robertson. " I shall 
 never be able to keep Miss Thornville, if this 
 is the way Kate is to behave — it is quite 
 tiresome of her. I wonder what our friends 
 will say, if she makes a companion of the 
 governess?" 
 
 "Mamma, why do you not prevent it
 
 MILLICENT. 65 
 
 I should tell Kate of it, certainly," said 
 Clara. 
 
 *' My dear Clara, it is foolish of you to talk 
 so ; you know well enough that it is useless 
 speaking to Kate." 
 
 ^* There, Mamma — there it is, again; of 
 course, if you don't speak to Kate, you cannot 
 expect her to improve. '^ 
 
 "Well, Clara, if you must know, it was 
 only last night I did represent to her how odd 
 her conduct to Miss Thorn ville was." 
 
 " And what did she say, as an excuse ?" 
 asked Clara, all ciuiosity. 
 
 " She made no excuses at all, but stormed 
 out at what she called my injustice to my 
 governesses ; I never heard anything like the 
 way in which she talked of their being equal 
 to ourselves, and about Miss Thornville's good 
 family, till I could not listen any longer." 
 
 ^^ I think Kate does it out of opposition," 
 remarked Clara. 
 
 " She is so proud in some things, and 
 lowers herself in others," said her mother. 
 
 VOL. I F
 
 Q(j MILLICENT. 
 
 ^^ She does not profit much from Mr. Sey- 
 mour's instructions," added Clara. 
 
 '' Hush, my dear ! I cannot have you find 
 fault with your sister," replied Mrs. Eobertson. 
 ^^ She has so many good qualities; besides, 
 she is an elegant, stylish girl, and a great 
 ornament to our family. I wonder what Lord 
 Fortescue will think of her ?" 
 
 " I don't think Kate will care," said Clara, 
 in a mortified tone. 
 
 ^^ Nonsense, she will," replied her mother; 
 ^^ he is sure to return your Papa's visit, when 
 he comes back to the Chase ; we are the only 
 family of any standing, except the Seymours, 
 and he will be glad enough to make our 
 acquaintance. Kate can be very fascinating 
 when she chooses." 
 
 " That is as you think, Mamma," said 
 Clara. She could not bear to hear her sister 
 praised, so she left the room in anything but 
 an amiable temper. 
 
 While Mrs. Eobertson and Clara were 
 holding this conversation by the dining-room
 
 MILLICENT. G7 
 
 fire, Kate and her father were riding along the 
 hard, frosty road, to Horton, a little hamlet of 
 Staplehurst. They were both quite happy, 
 then. Mr. Robertson was always pleased to 
 be with his beautiM Katie, the only one of the 
 family who did not cross and annoy the worthy 
 man ; and Katie's heart was always lighter 
 during a solitary ride with him, for there was 
 nothing, then, to disturb her proud spirit — no 
 contentions or disputes, arising from some 
 unfortunate ill-timed word. Mr. Eobertson 
 had a great deal of good common sense and 
 information about the things of every-day life, 
 which many people pass over ; and, though his 
 conversations with Kate were never very deep 
 or learned, she generally listened with interest, 
 and never contradicted him ; and her father, 
 even if he did not think exactly as Kate did, 
 always tried to agree with lier, and thus there 
 seemed a mutual understanding between father 
 and daughter. Kate was extremely glad that 
 Clara's fears kept her from horse exercise, and 
 that, therefore, their tete a tete rides were 
 
 F 2
 
 68 MILLICENT. 
 
 seldom interrupted — though sometimes Mr. 
 Seymour joined them for a few hours' recrea- 
 tion from his arduous parish duties ; and then 
 the kindling of Kate's dark eye, and Mr. 
 Robertson's increased animation of voice, and 
 hearty expressions of pleasure, were sufficient 
 proofs how they both loved and revered their 
 excellent pastor. But, to-day, they rode alone 
 — their rector had been absent for a month, 
 and during that time business had accumu- 
 lated — he must not now think of taking plea- 
 sure — and neither of the equestrians expected 
 to meet him. 
 
 " Papa," said Kate, '' I have been longing 
 to go to Horton for some weeks, to see the 
 interior of the new church Lord Fortescue is 
 building ; and, now he is away, it is a capital 
 opportunity ; Mr. Seymour is sure to ask me 
 if I have seen it — the design was his." 
 
 " Then, I am sure it is good, Katie — it is in 
 the Gothic style, I suppose ? " 
 
 "Yes, Papa; Mr. Seymour showed me the 
 plan before he left home — it is quite simple —
 
 MILLICENT. 69 
 
 I mean there are no crosses, or superfluous 
 ornaments." 
 
 " Quite right, Katie — quite right ; I hate 
 gaudy churches." 
 
 " How dark the clouds are getting ! do 
 you foretel a storm, Papa ? " 
 
 " We shall have it before long, but I expect 
 it wUl keep off till the afternoon." 
 
 *' I hope so, too, for Miss Thorn ville has 
 gone out with the children." 
 
 ^* They will get under shelter, Katie," re- 
 plied her father ; " there is no occasion to be 
 anxious about them." 
 
 " What a grand-looking old place this 
 Horton Chase is !" said Kate, as, on turning a 
 corner of Lord Fortescue's park, they obtained 
 a view of the house. ^^ I am obliged to 
 admire it every time I pass; no wonder he 
 does not like to leave it," 
 
 " His father and grandfather lived here 
 before him, and it is natural he should feel 
 attached to the place ; his mother died here, 
 you know," said Mr. Robertson.
 
 70 MILLICENT. 
 
 " Yes, Papa, I remember seeing her funeral ; 
 I was a little girl then." 
 
 "' Poor fellow, he has seen a great many- 
 troubles, young as he is ! — ^losing both his 
 parents, when he was quite a child, he has led 
 a lonely life since ; his grandmother was a poor 
 companion for a boy like him ; and, even when 
 at college, he entered very little into society." 
 
 "• I think he must have been most attached 
 to the late lord," said Kate. 
 
 "Aye, and he's gone, too!" replied her 
 father — " So it is ; he did not live very long 
 after the old lady ; and yet, Lord Fortescue 
 was not a very old man." 
 
 " I saw him once, when I was at school — 
 he came to see his niece, Agnes Manners." 
 
 " Here we are, Katie," exclaimed Mr. 
 Robertson ; "here is the church." 
 
 " They have gone on with it a great deal 
 since I was last this way — ^you will not mind 
 looking over it. Papa — we can get one of the 
 workmen to hold the horses?" asked Kate. 
 
 She had dismounted in a moment; and,
 
 MILLICENT. 71 
 
 while Mr. Eobertson was consigning his horse, 
 and Kate's beautiful mare, to the charge of a 
 labourer, Kate tripped lightly over the rubbish, 
 and, entering the church porch, cast an upward 
 glance at the light elegant arches. It was not 
 till her father's voice made her look round, 
 that she perceived, with his elbow resting on 
 the font, a tall, shght young man, in deep 
 mourning ; and though she had not seen Lord 
 Fortescue since he was a child, she felt sure it 
 must be he. While her eyes were resting with 
 compassion on his melancholy countenance, 
 he turned suddenly round, looked at her for 
 an instant, and then, coming forward, shook 
 hands with Mr. Eobertson, who, tui-ning in- 
 stantly to Kate, said, in a tone of pride, " My 
 daughter, Lord Fortescue." The young noble- 
 man bowed, and Kate's feathers bowed too, as 
 she spoke with that perfect ease which never 
 forsook, her. "We came here, at Mr. Sey- 
 mour's request, to admire youi' new church, 
 thinking you were still absent from the Chase." 
 " The little building has been honoured with
 
 72 MILLICENT. 
 
 few visitors," he said, with a sad smile ; *^ but 
 I shall be most glad if you will be interested 
 in it, and suggest any improvement/' 
 
 "When do you expect it to be finished?" 
 asked Kate, as they moved down the aisle. 
 
 " I hoped to have had it consecrated in April," 
 he replied ; " but the lengthened frosts keep 
 us very much back. I am building it in me- 
 mory of my mother," he continued, looking 
 mournfully on the ground. 
 
 Compassion again beamed in Kate's dark 
 eyes ; for she knew well his mother's sad his- 
 tory ; and when Lord Fortescue looked up, he 
 met the feeling expression he seemed to 
 expect. 
 
 " The design of the church is Mr. Sey- 
 mour's," he said, rousing himself from his 
 melancholy reverie ; "of course, you know 
 him. Miss Robertson?" 
 
 " Oh, perfectly," she replied, while a pecu- 
 liar expression passed over her countenance. 
 
 " There are not many like him," said Mr. 
 Robertson: "he is a fine specimen of ov^
 
 MILLICENT. 73 
 
 English clergymen. Is he not related to you, 
 my Lord ? " 
 
 ^^Yes; my grandfather and Mrs. Seymour 
 were brother and sister." 
 
 Mr. Eobertson went to ask a question of the 
 head workman, while Kate and Lord Fortescue 
 went on, looking into the pews, going into the 
 chancel, and through the vestry. Lord For- 
 tescue would have liked Kate to mount the 
 belfiy for the view, which was very extensive ; 
 but the stairs had not yet any railings, and he 
 feared Kate's habit would throw her down. 
 
 ^^ It wiU be a beautiful church," she said, 
 when they again found themselves in the 
 porch. 
 
 " I am glad you like it," he replied ; " pray 
 come as often as you please ; there is great 
 pleasure in watching the progress of a build- 
 ing — at least, I find it so." 
 
 There is a sort of fi*ee-masonry among young 
 people, and it seemed so with these. They 
 had met each other without restraint ; and, after 
 half-an-hour's intercourse, in spite of the dif-
 
 74 MILLICENT. 
 
 ference in rank, they appeared already at home 
 with each other. 
 
 ^^ I am going your way," said Lord For- 
 tescue, ^' and if you will allow me, I will ride 
 with you." 
 
 " We shall be highly honoured," replied 
 Mr. Eobertson, good-humouredly, while he saw 
 a third horse being led up and down. 
 
 "There is a storm very near at hand," 
 Lord Fortescue said, as he assisted Kate to 
 mount. 
 
 " The sky looks beautiful : I am fond of 
 dark clouds," she replied. 
 
 " Not of their contents, though, Katie," said 
 her father. 
 
 " I do not care much about snow," she re 
 plied, as they quickened their horses' pace. 
 
 At that moment a fall of snow and hail 
 began to descend heavily. 
 
 '^ We will turn into the park ; you must take 
 shelter at the Chase, Mr. Robertson," said the 
 young nobleman; "I shall thank the snow for 
 having sent me visitors."
 
 MILLICENT. 75 
 
 The storm was too heavy to refiise the invita- 
 tion, and Kate soon found herself in the hall of 
 the Chase, shaking the snow off her feathers ; 
 a large fire burnt on the hearth, and two or 
 three dogs slumbered before it, but a peculiar 
 air of hushed stillness reigned tlirough the 
 house, and the whole aspect of the place looked 
 as if it had not been altered, for at least half a 
 centurj. 
 
 " Come into the library. Miss Robertson," 
 said Lord Fortescue; ^^ a solitary man like me, 
 never uses a drawing-room." 
 
 The room in which he led his visitors, was 
 large and wainscoted with oak, plentifully 
 filled with old-fashioned furniture, and round 
 the sides were bookcases, filled with books, 
 which looked as if they had been untouched 
 for many years by any hand, save that of 
 time. 
 
 " I suppose you think my family are not 
 fond of alterations," said Lord Fortescue, 
 smiling, as Mr. Robertson glanced round the 
 room.
 
 76 MILLICENT. 
 
 *^ No ; I was not thinking of that/' replied 
 Mr. Eobertson. '^ I was calling to mind 
 stormy parish meeting in this very room, some 
 twenty years ago, when your grandfather and 
 old Mr. Seymour had a quarrel, and were not 
 on speaking terms for a twelvemonth after." 
 
 " From the stories I have heard, I imagine 
 Mr. Seymour must have been rather a passion- 
 ate person." 
 
 ^'A very irritable fellow, indeed; and your 
 grandfather was very hot-headed ; I recollect 
 when he was master of the ceremonies at the 
 Stocklee ball, how he fell out with Captain 
 Grey, one of the stewards." 
 
 ^^ That is one of my housekeeper s favourite 
 stories," said Lord Fortescue, smiling. 
 
 "Mrs. Blake and I are great friends," said 
 Kate ; "I made her acquaintance at the 
 Eectory, and then she insisted on my visiting 
 her, and being shown the house." 
 
 '^ Oh ! then it is familiar to you?" observed 
 Lord Fortescue. 
 
 " Perfectly," replied Kate, laughing. " I have
 
 MILLICENT. 77 
 
 often enjoyed strawberries and cream in Mrs. 
 Blake's parlour. — But, Papa, the storm has 
 ceased, we must not intrude on Lord Fortescue 
 any longer." 
 
 " Oh, pray, do not hurry away, I am de- 
 lighted that you have done me the honour to 
 visit my solitary abode." 
 
 " Thank you, for having sheltered us, but 
 we must really leave now; we have a call at 
 the Seymours to make before luncheon," said 
 Kate. 
 
 " We shall hope to see you at Staplehurst, 
 my lord," said Mr. Robertson, as he mounted 
 his horse. Lord Fortescue promised an early 
 visit, and said how pleased he was to have 
 met them. Kate was quite delighted with 
 Lord Fortescue, his manner was so natural and 
 easy, and perfectly free from hauteur, that she 
 felt sure they would find him a pleasant ac- 
 quaintance ; and, when she and her father 
 called at the Rectory, Mr. Seymour spoke in 
 such high terms of him, that Kate's favourable 
 impression was quite confirmed.
 
 78 MILLICENT. 
 
 Horton Chase, a fine old estate in Gloucester- 
 shire, had been, for several centuries, the pro- 
 perty of the Heywards, a younger branch of 
 the Fortescue family. The late Lord Fortescue, 
 and his brother, Frank Heyward, the present 
 lord's father, were, for some years, the only 
 representatives of that ancient house. The 
 elder brother never married ; but Frank, who 
 was of a roving, wild disposition, returned from 
 one of his wanderings with a young and lovely 
 bride. There appeared a mystery hanging 
 over her ; no one could tell who she was, or 
 where he had met her ; and her coming among 
 them afforded ample subject for conversation 
 in the neighbourhood. After the first excite- 
 ment of the marriage was over, and ^Irs. 
 Heyward became settled at the Chase, every 
 one around learnt to respect and love their 
 friend and benefactress ; but, strange to say, in 
 proportion as the regard of the tenantry and 
 household increased, so Frank Heyward be- 
 came colder and more indifferent to his sweet 
 and aimable wife. Surprised and grieved, she
 
 MILLICEXT. 79 
 
 used all her charming and winning ways to 
 make him love her as of old, but to no avail ; 
 and when, after a time, she saw how little lie 
 really cared for her, she became sad and 
 melancholy ; and, to add to her discomfort, her 
 husband brought his mother to find her home 
 in his. Though Lady Fortescue was never 
 absolutely unldnd in her behaviour to her 
 daughter-in-law, yet her pride and love of con- 
 trol, made Mrs. Heyward still more miserable. 
 After two years of loneliness, a sonwas given her, 
 a bright lovely boy, who soon became the darling 
 and solace of her life. Her little Ai*thur was all- 
 in-all to her, but even this pleasure she was not 
 allowed to enjoy undisturbed, for Frank Hey- 
 ward, who was seldom at home, deputed Lady 
 Fortescue to overlook his child's education; this 
 superintendence, her ladyship converted into a 
 complete surveillance, and interfered in all Mrs. 
 Heyward's simple plans. But the older Arthur 
 grew, the more he became attached to his 
 good and beautiful mother ; never was child 
 more tractable and obedient, than when with
 
 80 MILLICENT. 
 
 her ; lie watched her every word and look — 
 but, under the control of others, particularly 
 of Lady Fortescue, he was impatient and re- 
 bellious. For some years, Mrs. Heyward en- 
 dured this life of trial, until the increased un- 
 kindness of her husband, and his mother's per- 
 petual irritation preyed upon her health ; and 
 shortly after Arthur's tenth birthday, a funeral 
 procession wound slow and dark among the 
 hills, and bore Millicent Heyward to her last 
 resting place, in the dark vaults of Staplehurst 
 church, while her gentle spirit was gone home 
 to God. No childish grief was ever more lasting 
 and deepthan Arthur Hey ward's, which was con- 
 tinued by Lady Fortescue's want of sympathy, 
 and her injudicious treatment after his mother's 
 loss. On his father, this blow appeared to 
 make no lasting impression ; at first, when 
 hastily summoned from Paris, where he gene- 
 rally resided, to his wife's fiineral, his con- 
 science, if he had any remaining, seemed to 
 reproach him for his neglect of one so good 
 and gentle ; and he gave way to many ex-
 
 MILLICENT. 81 
 
 pressions ol remorse. He did not, however, 
 remain long at the Chase, but soon returned 
 to Paris and all its gaieties, where, his 
 career was soon terminated by a short and 
 mysterious illness. After the death of her 
 younger son, Lady Fortescue entirely left the 
 Chase, and went with Arthur to his uncle's 
 estate in Yorkshire ; and the young heir was 
 almost forgotten in Horton, as he never visited 
 his property. 
 
 At length, when eleven years had passed 
 away, a retinue of servants and horses came to 
 the Chase, and, in a few days, Arthur Heyward 
 arrived with his uncle. Lady Fortescue was 
 dead, and Arthur had come of age — a solemn 
 gathering of the tenantry proclaimed this; 
 shortly afterwards. Lord Fortescue quitted 
 Horton, and his nephew was sole and undis- 
 turbed possessor of the ancient mansion, where 
 he had only been located a few weeks, when 
 death again visited the family, and Arthur 
 succeeded to his uncle's title, and became Lord 
 Fortescue. 
 
 VOL. I. G
 
 82 MILLICENT. 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 The noblest minds their virtue prove 
 By pity, sympathy, and love ; 
 These, these are feelings truly fine. 
 And prove their owner half divine.* 
 
 COVTPER. 
 
 While Mr. Eobertson and Kate were so un- 
 expectedly making an agreeable acquaintance 
 with Lord Fortescue, Millicent and her pupils 
 were walking in quite a different dii^ection. — 
 Augustus had undertaken to show the way, 
 and was very proud of doing the honours ; 
 Millicent already began to like him, for, though 
 extremely wild and spoilt, he was really a 
 good-hearted, affectionate child; but Fanny 
 appeared a conceited, pert little thing, and
 
 MILLICENT. 83 
 
 Millicent anticipated she would cause her a 
 great deal of trouble. Between telling 
 Augustus the promised story, and preventing 
 Fanny from sliding on every pond they saw, 
 MilUcent found plenty of employment during 
 the walk. 
 
 " Oh, thank you, Miss Thomville, for that 
 beautiful story," said Augustus, as the history 
 of William Tell came to an end — "1 will 
 never spill tea on your dress any more ; and 
 when may I hear another?" 
 
 " Very soon, dear ; but look, it is beginning 
 
 - ■» 
 
 to snow ; we must make haste — come, Fanny." 
 " Oh, I am so tired," she replied. 
 " We shall be home very soon — surely you 
 can walk a little faster." 
 
 But Fanny had made up her mind that 
 she would not obey ; and she walked so 
 slowly, that the storm had come on heavily 
 when they reached the Rectory, on their way 
 to the park gates. Just then the children 
 saw Mr. Seymour returning from the schools, 
 and ran forward to meet him. 
 
 G 2
 
 84 MILLICENT. 
 
 '^ You must come into the Rectory, till 
 the storm is over. You are not alone, 
 children ? '' asked Mr. Seymour. 
 
 *' Oh, no ! our new governess, Miss Thorn ville, 
 is just behind," they replied, running up to the 
 Rectory door. Mr. Seymour, waited for 
 Millicent, whom he recognised inmiediately 
 as his late travelling companion from Heather- 
 ton, and asked her courteously to follow the 
 children — an invitation which Millicent readily 
 accepted. 
 
 In Mr. Seymour's drawmg-room, they found 
 little Mary, and her grandmamma, a stately 
 old lady, with hair that rivalled the snow-flakes 
 they were watching. Mary ran forwai^l to 
 meet her father, who took her up in his arms 
 and kissed her baby face, with fond aiFection, 
 as she twined her arms round his neck. Mrs. 
 Seymour came towards Millicent, and shook 
 hands kindly with her, sayuig, " I do not yet 
 know your name, but I am glad to see you ; 
 come and sit by me, my arm-chair is always near 
 the fire ; they say old folks are generally cold."
 
 MILLICENT. 85 
 
 "But wann- hearted," said ^Ir. Seymour, 
 who had put Mary down to entertain the 
 little Robertsons, and now leant his elbow 
 on his mother's chair. ^' I ought to in- 
 troduce Miss Thomville to yon, mother 
 — she was my travelling companion from 
 Heatherton." 
 
 " Indeed !" said Mrs. Seymour; '' you had a 
 long journey — I hope you will like this 
 neighboiu'hood ; you must come often to see me 
 — I love young people." 
 
 "You are very kind," replied Millicent; '' it 
 will, indeed, afford me great pleasure — I have 
 no friend here." 
 
 " Poor child," said Mrs. Seymour, kindly ; 
 ** if you can put up with the company of an 
 old woman like me, I shall often look out for 
 you at the Rectory ; I never pay visits, so I 
 expect people to come and see me." Mrs. 
 Seymour said this cheerftdly, and Millicent felt 
 that her society would be a great relief to her 
 sometimes, when the school-room duties were 
 over.
 
 86 MILLICENT. 
 
 " Your little grand- daughter is a sweet 
 child," observed Millicent; ^' I was very much 
 struck with her, yesterday/' 
 
 ^' Mary is a happy little girl,'' said Mr. 
 Seymour, looking fondly at her — " at least, we 
 try to make her so ; the innocence of childhood 
 is very beautiful ! — ^ Except ye become as a 
 little child,'" he said, softly. 
 
 "It is sad to see children neglected," said 
 Millicent. 
 
 " It is, indeed," he replied ; " you, Miss 
 Thornville, have a work to do." 
 
 " A difficult one, I fear," said Millicent, 
 " and one to which I am totally unaccustomed." 
 
 " I fancied so," he said, kindly; " but you do 
 not work for an earthly master ; He has borne 
 all for you, you must bear something for Him 
 — I have just come from a little flock, and I 
 thought it a blessed office to prepare them for 
 the Lord of Paradise." — Mr. Seymour looked 
 at Millicent, as if expecting an answer. 
 
 *^ I feel so strange in my new employment," 
 she said, encouraged by his kind manner;
 
 MILLICENT. 87 
 
 " and, being an orphan, I have no one to look 
 to." 
 
 Her trembling lip, and the sad words she 
 spoke, touched a chord in Mr. Seymour's com- 
 passionate heart, and he said, " Have you no 
 one to look to, Miss Thomville?" 
 
 She turned her sweet young face up to 
 his, with an earnest expression, as she re- 
 plied, " Ah, yes, a Friend I can never lose." 
 
 '^ Then, my dear young friend, "he said, ^*you 
 need not be cast down — ^you know, where 
 help can be found." Just then, little Mary 
 came up to Mrs. Seymour, and, laying her 
 little hand on her lap, said, in a lisping 
 voice, " Grandmama, may I say, how do you 
 do, to that lady ? " 
 
 *' Yes, dear," replied Millicent, " come and 
 speak to me ; do you know I have seen you 
 before?" 
 
 " Oh! how odd! isn't it, Papa?" said Mary, 
 in a surprised tone. 
 
 **Not very, darling," he answered; "we came 
 in the coach with Miss Thorn ville ; yesterday."
 
 88 MILLICENT. 
 
 "And do you know Aunt Katie?" asked 
 Mary. 
 
 " She always calls sister Kate, aunt/' said 
 Augustus, by way of explanation. 
 
 "Yes, Mary, I know her quite well," re- 
 plied Millicent. 
 
 " And will you come to see me when she 
 does ? " asked the little girl. 
 
 "Would you like me to come? " said Milli- 
 cent, stroking her glossy hair. 
 
 " Oh, yes, I could love you," she replied ; 
 "may I, Papa?" 
 
 "Ask Miss Thornville — she will say you 
 may." 
 
 Millicent took little Mary on her lap, and 
 kissed her ; and as her dark curls mingled 
 with the child's flaxen hair, they made a 
 lovely picture of youth and childhood, love 
 and innocence. 
 
 Millicent could have lingered at the Rec- 
 tory, particularly as her pupils behaved 
 decidedly better there than at home, but 
 the storm cleared, and Mrs." Robertson's
 
 MILLICENT. 89 
 
 probable anger at their lengthened absence, 
 presented itself disagreeably to her mind; 
 and, after promising Mary another visit, 
 and a kind invitation from both Mr. and 
 Mrs. Seymour, to come as soon as she had 
 leisure, Millicent and the childi^en took their 
 leave. 
 
 As Millicent had feai^ed, Mrs. Kobertson 
 was extremely annoyed at their remaining 
 out later than the hour she had fixed for 
 their return. " I am surprised. Miss Thorn- 
 ville," she said, '^ that you kept the children out 
 so much beyond their time." 
 
 " Our delay was unavoidable," replied Milli- 
 cent, colouring with vexation at Mrs. Robert- 
 son's reproof. 
 
 " Unavoidable, j\liss Thorn ville," she ex- 
 claimed. 
 
 " We could not return through the stonn," 
 said MiUicent, quietly. 
 
 " You ought to have been home before nt 
 began," was Mrs. Robertson's reply. 
 
 " That was impossible," replied Millicent,
 
 90 MILLICENT. 
 
 " and as Mr. Seymour invited the children in, 
 I thought we were very fortunate in being 
 sheltered during the heavy fall of hail." 
 
 " You should not have taken the children 
 to the Eectory, without my orders; Mr. 
 Seymour does not like intrusion ; as a stranger, 
 I did not expect you would have done so." 
 
 "I thought it would have been rude to 
 refuse ; besides, the children ran in before I 
 could stop them." 
 
 *' Oh, of course, it was the children's fault 
 — what governess ever was wrong?" 
 
 " Indeed, Mrs. Eobertson," began Millicent, 
 her voice trembling. 
 
 ^'Indeed, Miss Thorn ville, I beg you will 
 not answer me." 
 
 Just then, the children, having taken off 
 their walking dress, came down to lessons, and 
 Mrs. Robertson left the room, looking very 
 angry, and saying something about imper- 
 tinence. 
 
 After this little altercation with Millicent, 
 Mrs. Robertson retui'ned to the libraiy ; she
 
 MILLICENT. 91 
 
 thought she had only been doing her duty to 
 her governess in reproving her, and went on 
 working with Clara as if nothing had happened. 
 
 " Kate is taking a long ride," said Clara, 
 " I do not think she can enjoy it much, it is so 
 dreadfully cold to-day." 
 
 " Kate never minds the cold," replied Mrs. 
 Robertson; "but I cannot have you walk 
 to-day, Clara ; I am going to Stocklee, in the 
 close carriage, this afternoon, and you had 
 better come with me — I want to order a 
 common looking-glass for Miss Thornville's 
 room ; I was obliged to have one of the large 
 ones put there." 
 
 "It is much too good," said Clara; "do you 
 mean her to have fires every night, Mamma?" 
 
 " Certainly not," replied Mrs. Eobertson; 
 " that was Kate's doing, last night." 
 
 "Here are Papa and Kate!" exclaimed 
 Clara, who was standing by the window. 
 
 " Kate certainly looks very well on horse- 
 back," observed Mrs. Eobertson, getting up to 
 look at her eldest daughter as she dismounted.
 
 92 MILLICENT. 
 
 The gardener was waiting to see Mr. 
 Kobertson, who went away towards the hot 
 houses, so Kate came in alone. 
 
 " Have you had a nice ride ?" asked Clara. 
 
 "Yes, very," replied Kate, warming her 
 hands by the fire. 
 
 " Where were you during the snow storm ?" 
 said Mrs. Robertson. 
 
 "We took shelter at the Chase, Mamma, 
 for it came on very heavily," replied Kate. 
 
 "At the Chase?" repeated Clara; "I 
 suppose you visited your friend, Mrs. Blake ? " 
 
 Kate did not answer Clara's question ; but, 
 turning suddenly round to her Mamma, she 
 said, " Mamma, we must find Miss Thorn ville 
 another bed-room ; it is impossible for her to 
 continue in the one she now occupies." 
 
 " She has been complaining, of course, like 
 governesses in general," replied Mrs. Robertson. 
 
 "You are quite mistaken, Mamma," said 
 Kate ; " she made no remark about it." 
 
 "Then why do you wish it changed — all 
 our other governesses have slept there?"
 
 MILLICENT. 9 
 
 "More shame for us to allow it!" con- 
 tinued Kate, indignantly. " I always objected 
 to their being put out there, with the servants, 
 but, Mamma, Miss Thorn ville cannot remain 
 in it ; with the di'aught coming du'ectly on 
 her bed, she will catch a severe cold this 
 bitter weather." 
 
 . "Why should she more than the others?" 
 observed Clara. 
 
 " If you approve of the room so much, 
 I would advise you to exchange with Miss 
 Thornville," remarked Kate, sarcastically. 
 
 " Xonsense, Kate," said her mother ; "I 
 suppose her bed can be moved out of the 
 draught; I cannot have my governess changing 
 from room to room, at every whim and 
 caprice ! " 
 
 "But, Mamma," replied Kate, "recollect 
 Miss Thornville has been accustomed to every 
 comfort, and it is not likely she will put up 
 with such a room ; you must not forget her 
 former position." 
 
 " Oh, if she condescends to become a
 
 94 MILLICENT. 
 
 governess," said Clara, " she must forget all 
 her airs and graces." 
 
 " I quite differ from you," Kate said, " I 
 think, Mamma, I had better tell Sarah 
 to remove Miss Thornville's things into the 
 blue-room — ^that will suit her nicely." 
 
 "Keally, Kate," exclaimed Mrs. Robertson, 
 angrily, "I wish you would not interfere — 
 your cousin Charles always likes the blue- 
 room when he is here — besides. Miss Thorn- 
 ville must remain where she is. Mademoiselle 
 and Miss EUerton were just as good, and they 
 never complained." 
 
 " They never complained to you, Mamma, 
 because they knew it was of no use ; but poor 
 Mademoiselle told me no Frenchwoman would 
 ever put her /^mm^ de chamhre in such a room, 
 much less her governess ; and Miss EUerton 
 said, only the day she left, if she had remained 
 any longer, she should have died of the cold." 
 
 "Oh! grand Miss EUerton!" said Clara; "she 
 did not deserve anything better — the horrid 
 flirt !''
 
 MILLICENT. 95 
 
 " Every governess is a flirt who happens to 
 marry," observed Kate, satirically. 
 
 "Miss Ellerton was dreadfully ungrateful," 
 said Mrs. Robertson; " I wish, Kate, you would 
 not make such a fuss about the governesses." 
 
 " Mamma, I make no fuss," said Kate : 
 " will you tell me which room Miss Thorn ville 
 is to have ?" 
 
 "The one she is now in," replied Mrs. 
 Robertson, who was thoroughly out of temper. 
 
 " Very well, Mamma," answered Kate, with 
 provoking coolness, "then I shall give Miss 
 Thomville mine, and take the verandah-room 
 myself." 
 
 " Kate, this is too bad !" said her mother. 
 
 " Suppose, Mamma," continued Kate, coldly, 
 "that Clara and I ever had the misfortune to 
 become governesses ?" 
 
 " How silly," exclaimed Clara ; " as if such 
 a thing were possible." 
 
 " Just as probable as Miss Thorn ville 
 thought it a year ago," replied Kate, with a 
 contemptuous curl of the lip. " How should
 
 96 MILLICENT. 
 
 you like us, Mamma," she contmued, "to be 
 put in a wretched little room a lady's maid 
 would- refuse to occupy ?" 
 
 ^^ You make me quite out of temper, Kate,'' 
 said her mother. 
 
 ^^ I am very sorry," said Kate, in an in- 
 different tone ; "I shall give orders to have 
 my room arranged — " and Kate moved towards 
 the door. 
 
 "Kate, how can you?" exclaimed Mrs. 
 Eobertson; "just fancy what the servants will 
 think !'' 
 
 Kate made no answer, her hand was upon 
 the handle of the door. "I cannot have you 
 give up your room," continued Mrs. Robertson, 
 in despair. " I suppose you must have your 
 own way, and this stupid governess be moved." 
 
 " Then I will order Sarah to prepare the 
 blue-room at once," said Kate. 
 
 " Oh, anything you like," replied her 
 mother ; " but I am determined MissThornville 
 shall not stay." 
 
 Kate took no notice of this, but left the
 
 MILLICENT. 97 
 
 room to get ready for luncheon — she always 
 remained as long as possible in her riding-dress, 
 her most becoming costume, and she was often 
 to be seen loitering about the house and 
 grounds in her habit, as if to prolong the feel- 
 ing of perfect independence and enjoyment 
 she always experienced when on horseback. 
 Luncheon passed tolerably quietly; Mr. Robert- 
 son had been summoned to a parish meeting, 
 so Kate took the bottom of the table, and with 
 her usual proud reserve, talked very little ex- 
 cept to ^liliicent, who was doing her utmost to 
 prevent the children becoming wild, as was 
 frequently the case in their father's absence. 
 Mrs. Robertson and Clara, having a little re- 
 covered from their annoyance, and wishing to 
 hear of Kate's visit to the Chase, made many 
 overtures at reconciliation, hoping to elicit her 
 opinion of Lord Fortescue, who, they had 
 learnt from Mr. Robertson, had given them 
 shelter, but to no avail. Kate was more cold 
 and stately than before, and Millicent was not 
 sorry when they were emancipated from the 
 VOL. r. H
 
 98 MILLICENT. 
 
 dining-room ; she felt sure Kate's attention 
 would only increase the dislike, she imagined, 
 Mrs. Robertson had already taken to her. 
 
 Millicent did not see anything more of Kate 
 till the evening, when she was sitting alone in 
 the school-room, with a book in her hand, 
 which, however, she was not reading, for her 
 eyes were fixed on the fire, and were filled 
 with tears. A knock at the door made Milli- 
 cent start up ; she thought it was Mrs. Robert- 
 son, but, instead, Kate entered the room. 
 
 " I hope I have not disturbed you. Miss 
 . Thorn ville," she said ; ^' but, I thought, per- 
 haps, you would be kind enough to give me 
 my first German lesson ; but, if you are en- 
 gaged, another time will do as well." 
 
 '' Oh, no ; I have nothing to do," replied 
 Millicent. ^' I shall be so glad to begin with 
 
 you." 
 
 *^ Perhaps you would like to come to my 
 dominions, then," said Kate, kindly. '' I told 
 Benson to light candles, and make up a good 
 fire ; you will find it more cheerful than the 
 school-rojom."
 
 MILLICENT. 99 
 
 Kate was right ; her boudoir was certainly 
 more cheerful — it was a luxurious apartment, 
 full of pictures and flowers, little tables heaped 
 up with books, and strewn about with un- 
 finished scraps of writing. There were plenty 
 of easy chairs, too, and couches ; and in one 
 comer stood a cottage piano, with a pile of 
 music on the floor, and a guitar by its side, 
 with a long blue ribbon hanging from it. 
 Kate moved some books ofi* a delicious little 
 couch, and, drawing it to the fire, said — "Miss 
 Thomville, will you sit here — we can have our 
 table near us ; it is too cold to sit far away 
 from the fire to-night." 
 
 " Have you any German books ? " asked 
 MilUcent. 
 
 " Only a few old ones my brother had at 
 school,'' replied Kate ; " but really, Miss Thorn- 
 ville, I am afraid you don't feel inclined for 
 study this evening — you look so ver) pale — 
 are you unwell ? " 
 
 " I have only a little stiff neck," said Milli- 
 cent; "there was such a di'aughtnear my bed 
 
 H 2
 
 100 MILLICENT. 
 
 last night ; but I have asked the servants if 
 there could not be some list nailed over the 
 door." 
 
 " Miss Thornville, I am so very sorry," 
 said Kate, in an apologising tone ; ^'bufyou 
 are to have another room. I told Sarah to 
 remove your things — I am really ashamed you 
 should have suffered from the cold." 
 
 " It was very cold," said Millicent, rather 
 sadly. 
 
 Kate looked concerned; she wanted to be 
 kind and agreeable to Millicent, and fancied 
 she was too distant. 
 
 '*Miss Thornville" she said, after a pause, 
 " I don't think we will read to-night ; I will 
 work, and you shall take your ease ; a tete-a- 
 tete conversation will remove some of our re- 
 serve, and make us better acquainted with 
 each other." 
 
 Millicent saw Kate was wishing to be 
 friendly, and thought she ought also to try 
 and exert herself, though the labours of the 
 day had made her feel very languid.
 
 MILLICENT. 101 
 
 " I shall be quite ashamed to be idle," she 
 said, smiling. 
 
 "Oh, never mind," said Kate, "you can 
 talk [all the more; I hear you were at the Eec- 
 tory this morning ? " 
 
 " Yes ; we took refuge from the storm." 
 
 " And what do you think of Mr. Seymour ; 
 is he not charming ? " 
 
 "Yes; he is just what I imagined — the 
 personification of kindness." 
 
 " I knew he would be," said Kate, with an 
 expression of pleasure ; "I called there after 
 you. Shall I repeat what he said of you ? " 
 
 " Yes, if you please." 
 
 " Mind, it is flattering," said Katie. 
 
 " Then, perhaps, I had better not hear it, 
 for fear of becoming vain." 
 
 " Tush !" said Kate — " what nonsense ! — 
 He said, he hoped I should be kind to you, for 
 you were a very sweet girl, and just the sort 
 of companion he had long wished for me." 
 
 "Did he say so? how kind!" exclaimed 
 Millicent, her cheek kindling with pleasure.
 
 102 ^ MILLICENT. 
 
 ''■ Yes, and Mrs. Seymour passed her judg- 
 ment on you as an exceedingly lady-like girl, 
 very modest, and pretty — dear old lady ! " 
 
 ^^ What a sweet little child Mary is 1" said 
 Millicent. 
 
 " She is an angel," replied Kate ; " and 
 she told me you were such a kind lady, with 
 curls." 
 
 Millicent laughed, and said, "I did not 
 know my curls had such attractions." 
 
 "• I am glad you are already a favourite at 
 the Rectory," said Kate ; " and you like them, 
 I can see, by your face." 
 
 "I could not help liking them," replied 
 Millicent ; "I long to see Mr. Seymour in his 
 church." 
 
 Kate did not speak for a minute, and then 
 she said, " Mr. Seymour sometimes gives me 
 advice — I cannot call it a lecture, for he never 
 scolds — but if he could be wrong, I fancy he 
 may be in his views about amusements." 
 
 " What amusements?" asked Millicent. 
 
 " Oh, theatres, and that sort of thing — of
 
 MILLICENT. 103 
 
 course, they are not fit for clergymen, but that 
 does not apply to other people." 
 
 '^ Do you not think it does, to a certain 
 degree?" asked Millicent. 
 
 ^' Oh, of course, if persons approve of such 
 dreadfully stiict views," replied Kate ; ^^ but 
 I must say, I enjoy the amusements clergy- 
 men tell us are wrong." 
 
 " Oh, Miss Robertson !" exclaimed Milli- 
 cent. 
 
 "What is the matter?" said Kate; ''we 
 were intended to enjoy the world, and not be 
 gloomy.^' 
 
 " We are not to live here for ever," said 
 Millicent — '' I have seen enough to know 
 that" — and the tears filled her eyes. 
 
 "I did not intend to make you dull," said 
 Kate. " I never think of such gloomy things 
 — young people were made to be happy." 
 
 " There is no happiness like that religion 
 affords," said Millicent; "it is only that 
 enables me to bear my trials.'' 
 
 Kate did not make any answer, but, draw-
 
 104 MILLICENT. 
 
 ing her chair closer to the fire, she said, ^^ Do 
 you think you shall be very unhappy here ?" 
 
 " That is scarcely a fair question, after such 
 a short sojourn," replied Millicent. 
 
 '^ Rather premature, certainly," said Kate ; 
 " but I will do all I can to make you happy, 
 and then, perhaps, you will be able to endure 
 Staplehurst, for my sake; I should like you 
 to care for me, and be my friend." 
 
 Millicent looked surprised. 
 
 " Perhaps you do not like sudden friend- 
 ships," continued Kate; ^^ I assure you I do not, 
 generally, but I have been longing for some 
 one about my own age, whom I could like; 
 and, directly I saw you, I fancied you were 
 the very person I had been longing for — do 
 you think me very romantic?" 
 
 Millicent's voice trembled, as she said, 
 ^' Dear Miss Robertson, you must see by my 
 dark dress how lonely I am ; I shall be very 
 glad of your friendship, and truly grateful to 
 all those who will be kind to me." 
 
 "I shall take you to the Rectory the first
 
 MILLICENT. 105 
 
 opportunity — I should like you to get the 
 Seymours' friendship — it is worth having." 
 
 "Thank you," said Millicent ; " they were 
 so kind as to ask me to visit them." 
 
 There was a pause of some minutes, and 
 then Millicent said, timidly, ^^Your Mamma 
 said something this morning about the school- 
 room staircase ; I did not quite understand 
 her; but am I expected to go up that way?" 
 
 Kate coloured deeply — " I would not advise 
 you to use the side stairs, unless you choose, 
 or are in a hurry; our last governess, Miss 
 EUerton, never went that way at all; and 
 when Mamma sees you intend to go up the 
 front stairs, she will not interfere, after a 
 time." 
 
 " I hope so," said Millicent, in a tone of 
 sadness ; "I never thought a governess's life 
 would be free from trials, but I did not ex- 
 pect to find them of this nature." 
 
 "Oh, woman! woman!" exclaimed Katie, 
 indignantly — "if it were not in your nature to
 
 106 MILLICENT. 
 
 tyrannise over your own sex ! I have written 
 half a book on the subject/' she continued. 
 
 ''What subject?" asked Millicent, hardly 
 knowing what Kate was talking about. 
 
 " Oh, the horrid way women tyrannise over 
 each other ! I hate my own sex ! " and Katie 
 threw her embroidery vehemently on the table. 
 " If a man has a tutor, " she went on, "he 
 does not make it the business of his life to 
 render him miserable ; he joins the family at 
 dinner, and enters freely into the conversation 
 — not so the governess ; she is pushed off with 
 a lunch, or school-room dinner — a horrid leg of 
 mutton and baked apples, which are considered 
 good for the children, and so are quite good 
 enough for her ! — If the boys ride, the tutor 
 rides with them ; but woe be to the unfor- 
 tunate, governess who dares put her foot in the 
 stirrup. The tutor enjoys the evening circle 
 — not so the governess ; she is either incarcera- 
 ted the whole evening in the school-room, or else 
 about an hour before bed-time, the drawing- 
 room door opens, and a girl glides in — she
 
 MILLICENT. 107 
 
 may be young and pretty, but, still all the 
 same, she invariably wears a chokingly high 
 dress, and very long sleeves — woe be to her, if 
 she tries to look like other girls ! She seats 
 herself apart from the rest, on the edge of some 
 lonely sofa, or turns over a forsaken book of 
 prints: no one speaks to her, for fear of being 
 thought singular; the proud are too much 
 wrapped up in their self-importance, and the 
 kind are too timid to venture. If there 
 happens to be a very disagreeable, or stupid 
 person, who wishes to play at chess, or a 
 fourth is wanted at whist, she is summoned, 
 or else she passes the evening with her own 
 bitter thoughts, and glides out Ss she came in — 
 the governess — and forgotten ! " Here Kate 
 stopped suddenly, for she saw the tears silently 
 stealing down Millicent's cheeks,— ^" Miss 
 Thomville, do pardon me, I did not know I 
 was so thoughtless," she exclaimed ; "my de- 
 scription does not apply to you, I will take 
 care of that; I know it is very hard to be 
 pei7)etually dictated to, and crossed ; but the
 
 108 MILLICENT. 
 
 best plan is to take no notice — you cannot 
 think how soon this checks all annoyances — 
 pray, forget what I have said — shall we have 
 a game of chess, or do you pl^y backgammon ? 
 I must see you cheerful." 
 
 Millicent could not resist Kate's kind efforts 
 to amuse her; and, sitting down to chess, forgot 
 her troubles in the intricacies of the game. 
 When it was over, she felt thoroughly tired, 
 and was really glad when Kate volunteered to 
 show her the new room. Miss Kobertson had 
 been there before, and seen that everything 
 was arranged properly, and the blazing fire re- 
 vealed to Millicent's gaze a pleasant room ; 
 which, though not very large, was nearly as 
 comfortable as her own at Heatherton. 
 
 " This is very nice, thank you, Miss Robert- 
 son," said Millicent, glancing wearily round; 
 " I shall feel quite at home here." 
 
 " That is what I mean you to feel," re- 
 plied Kate; " I always have my own way in 
 everything, that is one comfort." 
 
 "Are you sure that it is always a comfort
 
 MILLICENT. 109 
 
 to have our own way?" said Millicent, 
 smiling. 
 
 " Mr. Seymour asked me the same question, 
 only this morning," said Kate. 
 
 "And how did you answer it?" said Milli- 
 cent. 
 
 "Miss Thornville," replied Kate, "I shall 
 not talk to you any longer, to-night ; you are 
 quite tired, we will discuss anything you 
 like to-morrow — you know my christian name 
 by this time, I should think," she continued — 
 " I am Kate, and you are ?" 
 
 " Millicent," was the reply. 
 
 "Well, then, dear Millicent, I bid thee 
 heartily farewell ; and may balmy slumbers 
 and pleasant di^eams visit your pillow," said 
 Kate, playfully. 
 
 "And to you, dear Kate, I say, may the angel 
 of peace watch over you," returned Millicent. 
 
 Kate started ; " Mr. .Seymour, again; how 
 very strange you should use his language." 
 
 "I am pleased to think his wishes for you 
 are the same as mine," replied Millicent.
 
 no MILLICENT. 
 
 ^' Dear Miss Thornville," said Kate, warmly, 
 " I trust we shall, indeed, be friends ; and our 
 friendship shall commence with a kiss of peace 
 — adieu Millicent," and she took up her candle 
 and was gone.
 
 MILLICENT. Ill 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 " Tell me not, in mournful numbers, 
 * Life is but an empty dream ! ' 
 
 For the soul is dead that slumbers, 
 And things are not what they seem. 
 
 " Life is real ! Life is earnest I 
 And the grave is not its goal ; 
 
 * Dust thou art, to dust retumest,' 
 Was not spoken of the soul. 
 
 " Not enjoyment, and not sorrow, 
 Is our destined end or way ; 
 
 But to act, that each to-morrow 
 Find us farther than to-day." 
 
 Longfellow. 
 
 " Kate," said Mrs. Robertson, the next morn- 
 ing, ^^ I suppose you are not going to the 
 Rectoiy, to-day?" 
 
 "" I will, if you have any message, Mamma,"
 
 112 MILLICENT. 
 
 replied Kate, only too glad of an excuse to 
 visit the Seymours. 
 
 '^ I only wanted you to take my quarterly 
 subscription to the Clothing Charity ; I find, 
 by .some mistake, I forgot to send it in at 
 Christmas, and Mrs. Seymour must think it so 
 strange." 
 
 " She must, indeed, Mamma," said Kate ; 
 *' the best plan will be for me to take it at 
 once, and explain why it was not sent before. 
 I have notliing to do this morning, and, after 
 lunch. Papa and I are going to ride with Tom 
 to the railway." 
 
 In a few minutes Kate had her bonnet on, 
 and was walking to the Eectory. The weather 
 had changed and it was thawing fast, so Katie 
 stepped daintily over the ground. A variety of 
 thoughts filled her mind, among which Mr. 
 Seymour was most frequent. There were not 
 two persons in the parish more opposite in 
 character than Katie and Mr. Seymour, and yet 
 there were, perhaps, no two who thought more 
 of each other, though in a totally diiferent
 
 MILLICENT. 113 
 
 way. The good Hector was extremely in- 
 terested in the younger members of his flock, 
 and in Kate especially, for he saw in that proud 
 girl, a fine noble spirit placed amid those so un- 
 congenial, that he could scarcely wonder, though 
 he grieved at her cold indifference to them, 
 and not a day passed without this goodChi'istian 
 pastor, prapng that she, whose character 
 evinced so much promise, and who, under pro- 
 per influence might become so truly good and 
 valuable in her family circle, would be num- 
 bered some day, and that soon, among those,, 
 who not only by outward, but by inward regene- 
 ration, are made ' inheritors of the kingdom of 
 Heaven/ It was very differently, however, that 
 Kate thought of him, though we must not reveal 
 Kate's thoughts, but follow her to the Eectory. 
 Little Mary was sitting on a cushion before 
 the fire, nursing a kitten; Mrs. Seymour 
 was working in her arm-chair ; Mr. Seymour 
 was standing by her, while Lord Fortescue oc- 
 cupied the opposite side of the fire when Kate 
 entered the snug drawing-room. She smiled 
 
 VOL. I. I
 
 114 MILLICENT. 
 
 when she saw Lord Fortescue, and he smiled, 
 too, and said it really seemed as if they were 
 to meet; and little Mary clapped her hands 
 with glee as Katie sat down on half her 
 cushion, at the child's particular request, and 
 admired her kitten, and no one could have 
 doubted then, (though they might before,) 
 that Kate was happy. 
 
 " How your kitten has grown, Mary,'^ she 
 said, after she had given her mother's messages 
 to Mrs. Seymour ; " what shall you call her?" 
 
 " Shall she be named after you, Aunt 
 Katie ?" asked the child, simply. 
 
 " Oh, that is much too pretty for a cat, 
 Mary!" said Lord Fortescue; ^^but. Miss 
 Robertson, I did not know you were Mary's 
 aunt?" 
 
 " Not by relationship, but by love," replied 
 Kate. " Suppose we name pussy Tiny, Mary, 
 wiUthatdo?" 
 
 " Oh, yes ! Aunt Katie, that is a dear 
 little name," said Mary, clapping her hands. 
 
 " If you call Miss Robertson aunt, you
 
 MILLICENT. 115 
 
 must call me cousin Arthur/' said Lord 
 Fortescue ; " you know, Mary, I am your 
 cousin." 
 
 " Then ain't you Aunt Katie's nephew ?" 
 asked the little girl. 
 
 Kate and Lord Fortescue laughed, and little 
 Mary laughed because they did, and asked her 
 Papa if Cousin Arthur were not really Aunt 
 Katie's nephew ; and, though she believed her 
 father implicitly in all he said, yet she could 
 not understand the want of relationship 
 between them, and sat quite still for some 
 time, trying to realize it in her own mind, 
 stroking her kitten, and listening to its 
 purring. 
 
 " I think the frost is quite breaking, now," 
 said Katie ; "it was thawing fast when I 
 came." 
 
 " I am glad of it," said Lord Fortescue. 
 
 " Glad?" asked Katie. " Do you not like 
 frosts?" 
 
 '' Yes, for myself, but not for the poor," he 
 replied. 
 
 i2
 
 116 MILLICENT. 
 
 " How very considerate you are," said 
 Katie, getting up from Mary's cushion. 
 
 "If we all considered each other with 
 brotherly love, we should be rewarded by 
 much happiness," said Mr. Seymour. 
 
 Kate turned her proud face away, for she 
 fancied he meant this for her, and she felt 
 anything personal. 
 
 Presently, Mr. Seymour continued — " I 
 wish the lower classes were more thought of; 
 I always look upon them as specially placed 
 under our care by Divine Providence, and 
 laity, as well as clergy, will be required to 
 give an account of their stewardship." 
 
 " I think," replied Lord Fortescue, his face 
 kindling with animation, "that we improve 
 ourselves as much by our intercourse with the 
 poor, as they do by our kindness." 
 
 " Quite true, Fortescue — quite true," said 
 Mr. Seymour. " I should be glad if every 
 one entertained the same opinion." 
 
 Kate still continued to look away — she was 
 conscious of not thinking as they did. Pre-
 
 MILLICENT. 117 
 
 sently, Lord Fortescue turned towards her, 
 and said, " Miss Kobertson, you like my little 
 church?" 
 
 " Oh, yes — that charming little church in 
 the wood/' 
 
 " You have been over it, then ?" asked Mr. 
 Seymour. 
 
 ^^ Papa and I were there yesterday," Kate 
 replied. 
 
 '* Our first meeting," observed Lord For- 
 tescue; "and I managed to entice you into 
 my solitary old house." 
 
 " I liked the Chase very much," said Kate ; 
 " solitary old places always make me think." 
 
 " Yes, what a train of reflections looking at 
 an old house calls forth !" he replied ; and his 
 former expression of melancholy stole over his 
 countenance. 
 
 " What a wonderful gift is that of thought," 
 remarked Mr. Seymour — " one of the many 
 causes we have for gratitude." 
 
 " Yes," replied Lord Fortescue, " we ought 
 to rejoice at being able to think of heaven."
 
 118 MILLICENT. 
 
 " And this beautiful earth," added Katie. 
 
 "It is sweeter to think of heaven, do you 
 not think so, Miss Robertson T replied Lord 
 Fortescue ; and he looked at her with an ex- 
 pression which wore the stamp of the land he 
 loved. 
 
 " There is much that is beautiful here," 
 Kate answered evasively; "how lovely the 
 sunny days and moonlight nights !" 
 
 " They are transient," said Lord Fortescue. 
 
 " But sweet while they last," observed Mr. 
 Seymour. 
 
 " Thankfulness ought to be an easy lesson," 
 said his mother ; "we have so much to remind 
 us of it." 
 
 " Indeed, we have," replied Mr. Seymour ; 
 " and if we only knew how to look for them, 
 we should find fresh mercies at every step; 
 the blessings of this life certainly predominate 
 over the trials." 
 
 " It takes a long while before we learn that 
 Jesson," said Lord Fortescue ;" I am only just 
 now beginning to see it."
 
 MILLICENT. 119 
 
 *^ Do you not think," asked Kate, " that 
 some people have a great many more troubles 
 than pleasures? — our new governess, for in- 
 stance ; what can be worse than her trials, 
 poor girl ! and I am sure she has plenty of 
 them; for my part, I wonder how she has 
 borne them all !" 
 
 ^' What has happened?" said Mrs. Seymour, 
 putting down her work with a look of interest. 
 
 '^ She lost both her parents, suddenly, and 
 all her property, within a year, and has 
 descended, from being an heiress, to be a 
 governess ; you must own those are troubles 
 enough, for a girl of nineteen !" Kate said, 
 looking at Mr. Seymour. 
 
 " And yet, if you were to ask her, I have 
 no doubt she could tell you of many causes 
 for gratitude ; you, yourself, might become 
 one," he said, looking at her earnestly. 
 
 " I, Mr. Seymour !" exclaimed Kate, in 
 surprise. 
 
 " Yes, you can be such a friend to her, that 
 she will thank God for having sent her to Sta-
 
 120 MILLICENT. 
 
 plehurst, instead of allotting her some dreary 
 life, with no one to help or care for her." 
 
 "You are making me out too good," said 
 Kate, colouring ; "I am determined to like 
 her ; but I fear I shall not be able to do all 
 you appear to wish me." 
 
 '^ You must first pray that a wish to fulfil 
 the golden rule may be put in your heart. 
 Miss Thornville is about your own age, and 
 perfectly on an equality with yourself in edu- 
 cation and position. Just reverse your circum- 
 stances, and how would you expect her to act 
 towards yourself?" 
 
 " Oh, I should expect to be treated as well 
 as the rest of the family," replied Kate, 
 proudly ; " and I intend, I assure you, Mr. 
 Seymour, not only to consider her so myself, 
 but to insist upon every one paying her 
 respect and attention." 
 
 " Very true, Katie — very nice," said Mrs. 
 Seymour. 
 
 Mr. Seymour, however, smiled. "Miss 
 llobertson," he said, " I am afraid you will 
 get yourself and Miss Thornville entau-
 
 MILLICENT. 121 
 
 gled in a slight warfare ; you must be very 
 careful how you act ; show her every kindness 
 and consideration yourself; and impress upon 
 Fanny and Augustus respectfor theh* governess ; 
 but take care not to make her disliked by Mrs. 
 Robertson and Clara, by bringing her forward 
 injudiciously ; take care always to make good 
 use of favourable opportunities; and, above 
 all things, do not render her discontented with 
 her sphere of life ; help her forward in it, and 
 elevate her position, instead of detracting 
 from it." 
 
 " Everard always sets every one to work 
 who comes near him," said Mrs. Seymour, 
 smiling. 
 
 ^^Miss Robertson has a delightful task" 
 observed Lord Fortescue ; " there is no class 
 of persons who claim pity and kindness more 
 than governesses." 
 
 " I wishDickens would take up their cause," 
 said Kate," and write a stining book on the 
 subject; it would do a great deal of good — his 
 satu'e is so clever, and he is such a favourite 
 with the people."
 
 122 MILLICENT. 
 
 ** I thought you were going to take up the 
 subject yourself/' said Mr. Seymour, with a 
 quiet smile. 
 
 " Oh, Mr. Seymour, you are always remind- 
 ing me of my attempts at scribbling." 
 
 "Why should you not make them some- 
 thing more than merely attempts ? " 
 
 " My want of perseverance, I suppose ; you 
 are thinking of the Sunday-school," replied 
 Kate, laughing. 
 
 " I was very sorry you gave up your class," 
 said Mr. Seymour, gravely. 
 
 " It was much better than keeping it, when 
 I found I did not improve the children; if 
 they were stupid, I became vexed ; then they 
 cried, and I thought every one would think I 
 was scolding them ; and if I said nothing, they 
 learnt no lesson at all." 
 
 " We will have a little talk on perseverance, 
 some day," said Mr. Seymour, good-humour- 
 edly ; " but," he added, taking out his watch, 
 " I must hurry away now ; I have a great 
 deal before me to-day, and a long walk to the 
 other end of the palish."
 
 MILLICENT. 123 
 
 " Everard, dear/' said Mrs. Seymoiu', ^' as 
 you pass Jessie Blane's, just look in, and tell 
 her I am in no hurry for the work, and don't 
 let her take the trouble to send for her dinner 
 to-morrow ; Ann shall run round with it after 
 church." 
 
 " I must make a memorandum of your 
 messages, mother," he replied, smiling. 
 ^'Fortescue, if you have nothing better to 
 do, you might walk with me as far as Stony 
 End; I want to talk over your plans with 
 you." 
 
 Lord Fortescue took up his hat. '^ I should 
 like nothing better," he said. " Good-bye, 
 Miss Eobertson ; I shall do myself the pleasure 
 of calling at Staplehurst Park very soon ; " and 
 Mr. Seymour and his young cousin were 
 quickly on the road to Stony End. 
 
 '^ Well, Fortescue," said Mr. Seymour, cheer- 
 fully, "I am very glad we have got you at 
 Horton again." 
 
 " And I am delighted to return. In all my 
 wanderings, I have never seen any place like
 
 124 MILLICENT. 
 
 my beloved home." He spoke hurriedly, 
 and with great sadness in his voice. 
 
 " And what are you going to do, my dear 
 fellow, now you are at home?" asked Mr. 
 Seymour, anxious to prevent him becoming 
 melancholy. 
 
 ^' To tell you the truth, I have not thought 
 much about it yet ; I suppose you are going to 
 set me to work, as you did Miss Robertson, 
 just now. You are essentially a practical man, 
 Everard." 
 
 '^ Mine is a practical life," repHed Mr. Sey- 
 mour, "and so ought yours to be; I shall 
 make quite a curate of you ; I consider your 
 little hamlet of Horton more your charge than 
 mine." 
 
 " I know I ought to do something for my 
 tenantry ; but how must I begin ? " he said, in 
 rather a hopeless tone. 
 
 " First, you must begin at once, and then 
 you must set to work diligently and prayer- 
 fully; never let a day pass without getting 
 something done."
 
 MILLICENT. 125 
 
 "I was thinking, when the church is 
 finished, of building schools," said Lord For- 
 tescue. 
 
 ^'A very good plan; it is a long walk for 
 the children to Staplehurst ; and Mr. Ro- 
 bertson was saying only yesterday he should 
 be very glad to give a couple of hundred 
 towards any charity I might suggest ; and 
 several among our farmers would be only too 
 pleased to further any place of education for 
 their labourers' children." 
 
 " I would rather build them entirely my- 
 self," observed Lord Fortescue. 
 
 " That is selfish of you, Fortescue," said 
 Mr. Seymour ; ^' you must not ofiend our good 
 fiiends by refusing their assistance ; besides, a 
 few hundreds are not to be despised — you must 
 not waste money — what you save in your 
 schools, will go towards something else ; and, 
 recollect, yom^ church will be a continued 
 expense — even when the building is all paid 
 for ; there will be the insurance, and the warm- 
 ing and lighting, if you mean to carry out
 
 126 MILLICENT. 
 
 your plan of evening service ; and you will 
 want an organ, and there will be a clerk to 
 to pay; and then, I suppose, you intend to 
 keep the incumbent till you see how the pews 
 let;' 
 
 " Yes, I see," replied Lord Fortescue, 
 thoughtfully, ^ 'there will be plenty for me to do." 
 
 " But this is principally work for the purse, 
 though, of course, it involves other business — 
 it is only the occupation of a time. I want 
 you, Fortescue, to set about every-day-work — 
 let every day have an object in view." 
 
 "You are showing me quite a new phase of 
 life ; hitherto I have lived for myself, not wil- 
 lingly — ^for it is a most unsatisfactory kind of 
 existence ; but circumstances made me do so." 
 
 "Your life is only just commencing," re- 
 plied Mr. Seymour ; "do not dwell on the 
 past at all, except on past mercies ; but look 
 hopefully on the future. There is a work 
 before you ; take it steadily in hand ; you are 
 almost too young yet for parhamentary duties ; 
 therefore, let your time be given to duties
 
 MILLICENT. 127 
 
 around you. Inquire into the state of your 
 tenantry ; do not leave them to the care of 
 mercenaries ; you are much better qualified to 
 judge of their condition than a steward or 
 bailiff; but in giving them relief, never give it 
 unadvisedly — look well into the case before 
 you bestow your money/' 
 
 ^^ You will make quite a model-land-owner of 
 me/' exclaimed Lord Fortescue. 
 
 '' And a model land-owner makes model 
 tenantry," replied Mr. Seymour ; " but, apropos 
 of tenantry, what is to become of your York- 
 shire people ? " 
 
 " That is rather a source of embarrassment 
 to me," said Lord Fortescue. '' I have no 
 love for Ashburton Hall ; but still, the people 
 have a claim on me, and I cannot bear them 
 to be neglected." 
 
 ^' Why not find a good tenant, and let it," 
 replied Mr. Seymour ; ^^ you cannot live at 
 both places." 
 
 " No, but it would break Eager's heart ; he 
 has much more pride than his master."
 
 128 MILLICENT. 
 
 " Oh, we can easily win Eager over," re- 
 plied Mr. Seymour ; *^ for my part, I think he 
 would only be too glad to return to Horton." 
 
 Lord Fortescue was silent for a few minutes, 
 and then he said — ^^ I think, Everard, your 
 plan is worth consideration, provided I found 
 some one who would care for the tenantry, and 
 look after then' interests." 
 
 "' That will take time ; but, no doubt, such 
 a person is to be found ; it would be of double 
 value — the property would be kept in order, 
 and your means of doing good to others will 
 be increased." 
 
 ^^ I was thinking," said Lord Fortescue, 
 '''- that, perhaps, I ought to have a few altera- 
 tions at the Chase ; some of the ceilings are 
 rather in a bad condition, but I dread altera- 
 tions. I could not bear to touch rooms con- 
 secrated to bygone recollections, which are to 
 me almost hallowed ground." 
 
 "I would advise you not to make altera- 
 tions, at present ; by and- by, if ever you 
 marry, that will be time enough for decora-
 
 MILLICENT. 129 
 
 tions and improvements ; any repairs that 
 are required, you should have done without 
 delay — the park wall at the Staplehurst end, 
 for instance, is sadly dilapidated, and quite 
 inviting to poachers " 
 
 " I am glad you are of my opinion about 
 alterations. I like the old place best as it is ; 
 there is a remembrance of the past about 
 every step. The past is melancholy, but I 
 iike to dwell on it." 
 
 ^^ Fortescue," said Mr. Seymour, gravely, 
 " you must pardon me, if I speak too plamly, 
 and touch upon hallowed subjects ; but let 
 me beg of you not to indulge in, and foster, 
 melancholy, it is highly injurious to yourself^ 
 and others. God forbid that I should wish 
 you to forget those who have gone before ; a 
 mother's memory is the sweetest remembrance 
 a son can cling to ; but think of her with 
 cheerful patience, in the full persuasion of ere 
 long joining her, and let her counsel and 
 advice be to you a talisman through life. But, 
 beyond this, it is sinful to dwell continually 
 
 VOL. I. K
 
 130 MILLICENT. 
 
 on the past. I speak from experience," he 
 continued, with a slight faltering in his voice ; 
 " It is more invigorating and improving, to 
 keep a cheerful tone of mind. The Apostle 
 Paul says, ' Rejoice evermore ;' and, by brood- 
 ing over bygone sorrows, instead of rejoicing 
 in present mercies, we keep up a spirit of 
 repining." 
 
 *^ Dear Everard," exclaimed Lord Fortescue, 
 '^far be it from me to repine, but surrounded 
 by the scenes of the past, how can I fail to 
 dwell on those things ?" 
 ' " You must include it among the faults to 
 be guarded against ; it is essentially selfish, a 
 really unselfish person never sits idly down to 
 think of himself, but acts for others — never let 
 a day pass, as I said before, without some 
 employment; the conscientious land-owner has 
 as much work as the merchant, or even the 
 mechanic ; I do not want to presume on your 
 good nature, and dictate too much, but begin 
 each morning by some business — if there is 
 nothing to occupy your attention on the
 
 MILLICENT^ 131 
 
 grounds, visit in your ride some of your 
 tenantry; either call on one of the farmers 
 and consult with him on the best way of cul- 
 tivating the land, ascertain the number of his 
 labourers, that you may call on each indi- 
 vidually, and see into their welfare, or else 
 look into the dwellings of some of the poor, 
 form plans for improving their cottages, and 
 finding work for those who are unemployed ; 
 there wiU be plenty of thought-work, as well 
 as head-work there — and when you return 
 home and contrast your affluence with then- 
 poverty — in many cases cheerfully borne- 
 there will not be much occasion left for repining 
 — and as for society, I need not assure you, 
 my dear fellow, how thoroughly welcome you 
 will always be at the Eectory, at all times and 
 seasons; come when and as often as you like, 
 the oftener the more welcome, never sit at 
 home, feeling lonely, while we have a house to 
 receive you in ; you may find the Eobertsons 
 agreeable neighbours, they are very kind- 
 hearted, hospitable people, and I think you 
 
 k2
 
 132 MILLICENT. 
 
 would do well to return their call as soon as 
 possible, do not let them think difference of 
 rank keeps you back.'' 
 
 "Decidedly not," he replied, "life will seem 
 different to me with your influence to guide 
 my path, my mother would rejoice could she 
 know how you care for me — tell me everything 
 you think, Everard, don't spare me — I want 
 rousing — I have been looked upon as a being 
 above the ordinary duties of life, till I fear my 
 thoughts have become almost entirely centred 
 on self." 
 
 "Forget that now," said Mr. Seymour, 
 cheerfully, " I am sorry we must part here 
 for the present, I expect Farmer James will 
 keep me a long while, he is very ill, I cannot 
 hurry away, so do not wait for me ; I am afraid 
 mine has been a lecturing conversation, I have 
 to thank you, dear Fortescue, for bearing it 
 so well." 
 
 " I have rather to thank you for giving it ; 
 I have promised Aunt to help to demolish her 
 dinner on so Sunday, I do not know if I shall 
 see you to-morrow."
 
 MILLICEXT. 133 
 
 '^You had better join us directly after 
 morning service on Sunday. Au revoir, my 
 dear fellow, dont forget the park wall, or you 
 will be taken by storm, some night." 
 
 ^^No fear of that, Everard," said Lord 
 Fortescue, as he watched Mr. Seymour, till he 
 entered the farmer's house, and then turned 
 back to Staplehurst, with his mind ftiU of new 
 and active thoughts.
 
 134 MILLICENT. 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 ' All may mend ; and sympathies are healing ; and 
 reason hath its influence with the worst ; 
 
 And in those worst is ample hope, if only thou hast 
 charity and faith.* 
 
 TUPPER. 
 
 Mrs. Robertson and Clara were extremely 
 anxious to see Lord Fortescue; Kate told 
 them he said he should call soon, and during 
 the rest of the morning every ring and sound of 
 horses' feet seemed to announce their expected 
 visitor. The next day, Mrs. Robertson de- 
 layed her drive, on purpose that she might be 
 at home if Lord Fortescue came ; and she and 
 Clara sat in the drawing-room in state, to 
 make a favourable impression on the young
 
 MILLICENT. 135 
 
 lord. Not so Kate — she seemed perfectly 
 unconcerned — and after she returned from her 
 ride, she spent the rest of the morning in the 
 conservatories, among her favourite plants. 
 It was about an hour after luncheon, and 
 Katie had just disturbed her Mamma's peace 
 of mind, by coming into the drawing-room in 
 her garden bonnet, with a large flower-pot in 
 her hands, when Lord Fortescue was an- 
 nounced ; she met him with her usual perfect 
 ease, apologized for not being able to shake 
 hands, introduced him to her mother and 
 sister, and then called his attention to her 
 beautiful camellia, which he assisted her to 
 place in the flower-stand. 
 
 " I am very glad to see you at Staplehurst, 
 my lord," said Mrs. Robertson, trying to 
 appear at her ease. 
 
 " You are very kind," he replied ; "I hope 
 you will often let me come — I know no one 
 here, except the Seymours, and I shall be 
 delighted to make the acquaintance of your 
 famUy."
 
 136 MILLICENT. 
 
 *'I need not say your lordship will be 
 always welcome, whenever you choose to 
 honour us with a visit," said Mrs. Kobertson. 
 
 " You have given me a carte blanche, which 
 I shall certainly use," he replied ; "so, Mrs. 
 Robertson, if you have too much of me, it 
 will be the fault of your own kindness." 
 
 "Papa will be sorry not to have seen you — 
 he is gone out riding," said Clara, anxious to 
 put in a word. 
 
 Kate did not give him time to answer her 
 sister, but said, " Mrs. Seymour tells me you 
 sing a great deal. Lord Fortescue ; I suppose 
 you acquired a musical taste on the con- 
 tinent?" 
 
 " Oh, no," he replied, hurriedly ; " I have 
 loved music fi'om a child; I cannot recollect 
 the time when I did not delight in listening to 
 its sounds." 
 
 " Do you .prefer vocal or instrumental 
 music?" asked Kate. 
 
 "Certainly vocal," he replied; "and per- 
 haps you will think I have very bad taste —
 
 MILLICENT. 137 
 
 but I give a decided preference to the old 
 English ballads over the new style of Italian 
 bravuras." 
 
 " Oh, do you?" said Clara. " The operatic 
 music is so much more effective and showy ! " 
 
 " I know it is much more in vogue at the 
 present day, and I suppose I ought not to ex- 
 pose my old-fashioned tastes.'' 
 
 " I should have thought, my lord, having 
 been so much abroad, you would have been 
 inclined to like everything foreign,'' said Mrs. 
 Robertson. 
 
 " On the contrary, I am perfectly English ; 
 and, though I saw much that was to be 
 admired and imitated during my long sojourn 
 on the continent, still I assure you, Mrs. 
 Robertson, I find no place like home." 
 
 "Well, my lord," said Mrs. Robertson, 
 getting quite confidential, " I was very much 
 of your opinion. I recollect when first I was 
 married, Mr. Robertson took me to Berlin; 
 what with the bad cooking, and the smoking, 
 I was not sorry to come back to Staplehurst."
 
 138 MILLICENT. 
 
 '^ I have experienced very little of the 
 disagreeables of German cooking," said Lord 
 Fortescue, smiling; ^'I passed most of my 
 time in France and Italy during my long 
 absence from England." 
 
 ''Were you away many years, my lord?" 
 asked Mrs. Robertson. 
 
 " Almost immediately after I left Horton, 
 till three years ago, when I went to Oxford, 
 we were constantly on the continent, with the 
 exception of a few flying visits to England." 
 
 " And I suppose you spent your vacations 
 abroad as well ?'' continued Mrs. Robertson 
 
 " No, my home was at Ashburton during 
 my college life ; after Lady Fortescue's death, 
 my uncle settled down entirely in Yorkshire." 
 
 Kate thought Lord Fortescue might not 
 like Mrs. Robertson's questioning, so she asked 
 him if he sang duets ? 
 
 " ISTo, never," he rephed, '* but if you will 
 be so kind as to teach me, and sing with me, I 
 should like to learn." 
 
 " It would be very amusing," said Katie, " I
 
 MILLICENT. 139 
 
 have no one to sing with, my sister's voice is 
 so very weak, I quite drown it ; besides, we 
 are both sopranos/' 
 
 " Oh Kate, I am quite a contralto," said 
 Clara, indignantly. 
 
 *^ When may we have the honour of your 
 Lordship's company to dinner?" asked Mrs. 
 Robertson, in a fright, that the girls should 
 dispute. 
 
 " It will be a great pleasure to me to dine 
 with you, whenever it suits you, Mrs. Robert- 
 son," he replied. 
 
 " Suppose we fix Monday — if it is quite 
 convenient," she said. 
 
 "I seldom have any engagements, and I 
 shall be delighted to join you." 
 
 " Then we shall count upon your lordship's 
 company — we dine at six o'clock ; I am sorry 
 my son will not be here to meet you, but he 
 went yesterday from home for a few days." 
 
 " You are very kind to take compassion on 
 my solitude," he replied, ^'it will be quite a 
 new era in my life to enjoy the society of 
 ladies, so if I am old-fashioned and odd, you
 
 140 MILLICENT. 
 
 must correct me, Miss Robertson." He ap- 
 pealed to Kate, and looked pleased and cheer- 
 ful when she talked to him ! and Kate pitied 
 the melancholy expression on his young face, 
 and tried to amuse him. Mrs. Robertson also 
 did her best at conversation and after a long 
 visit, Lord Fortescue left with an au revoir, 
 
 " What a charming young man," exclaimed 
 Mrs. Robertson, when the hall-door had fairly 
 shut after their visitor. 
 
 Kate did not answer, she was altering the 
 position of her camellia. 
 
 "• He seems very childish," observed Clara, 
 throwing herself on the sofa, and resuming her 
 novel. 
 
 *' I suppose you are disappointed, then," said 
 Kate ; "I never knew you, Clara, to be satis- 
 fied with any one." 
 
 "I am not fond of violent Mendships at 
 first sight ; besides, Kate, it would not do for 
 us both to fall in love with the same person.'* 
 
 ^' There is no fear of that," said Kate, 
 proudly ; *^ I relinquish all pretensions to you."
 
 MILLICENT. 141 
 
 '' Lord Fortescue would nev^r think of me," 
 replied Clara, pettishly. 
 
 ^^ That is the most sensible thing you have 
 said to-day," her sister replied, pulling up the 
 Wind by her flowers, and then left the room. 
 
 '' What, at lessons still, Miss Thornville !" 
 said Kate, as she came into the school-room, 
 and found poor Millicent looking very fagged 
 and tired, over Fanny's music lesson, who 
 was crying, and seemed dreadfuUy out of 
 humour. 
 
 " We shall be finished soon," said Millicent ; 
 ^' Augustus has done his lessons long ago." 
 
 " She likes Augustus best," sobbed Fanny ; 
 '' she let him off his history." 
 
 " I suspect that is not true, Fanny," said 
 Kate. " If I were a little girl, I should be 
 ashamed to give so much trouble; do. Miss 
 Thornville, let the child go, I should not trou- 
 ble myself any more about her, you are spoiling 
 your half-holiday — she does not deserve so 
 much pains." 
 
 Millicent looked rather distressed.
 
 142 MILLICENT. 
 
 " I cannot let Fanny go yet, Miss Eobert- 
 son — I must not break my word, and I said 
 this exercise should be done." 
 
 "Well, then, make haste, Fanny!" ex- 
 claimed Kate. " I want to talk to Miss 
 Thornville — I shall wait for her here, and if 
 you are not good, I shall tell Mamma not to 
 let you come down to-night." 
 
 " I don't care if you do," said Fanny; "you 
 will see I shall come down all the same." 
 
 " What a dreadfully rude child you are," 
 said Kate ; " you will never be half as good as 
 Mary Seymour." 
 
 "I am sure you won t," pouted Fanny. 
 
 " Hush ! Fanny — you must not speak so to 
 your sister," said Millicent, gently, while she 
 longed for Kate to go ; but Kate took up a 
 book, and sat down on a low stool by the fire ; 
 she had got hold of some new stories for cliil- 
 dren, and, for a few minutes, they engaged 
 her attention. But Fanny's continued obsti- 
 nacy made her feel quite impatient, and she 
 looked up suddenly, about to speak angrily to
 
 MILLICENT. ' 143 
 
 her sister — but there was something just then 
 in Millicent's manner that checked her inter- 
 fering, and, instead of speaking, Kate sat and 
 watched her with a feehng of astonishment. 
 It seemed impossible to Kate for any one to 
 put up with Fanny's perverseness, without 
 losing their own temper. But, though ^lilli- 
 cent's face had a sad, troubled expression, 
 there was no frown, no passionate look, and her 
 voice retained its usual gentle tone. She did 
 not urge or huiTy Fanny, but helped her 
 quietly through the difficult passages, though 
 she made her play them after her — nor did 
 she give way in the least, till the whole task 
 was gone through : and when, at last, it was 
 finished, she did not scold Fanny, and say it 
 might have been done sooner, but she told her 
 she might go and play with Augustus — and, 
 shutting up the piano, Millicent turned round, 
 saying, ^' Now, Miss Eobertson, I am ready to 
 i, talk to you." 
 
 " I had no idea how bad-tempered Fanny 
 could be !" exclaimed Kate. '• Why did you 
 not let her shut up the piano ? "
 
 144 MILLICENT. 
 
 " For the very reason that she was out of 
 temper," replied Millicent. ^'Probably, if I 
 had asked her, she would have refused to 
 do it." 
 
 " Then I would have made her," said Kate. 
 
 " You could not without a scene," replied 
 Millicent. 
 
 " Oh, then, I would have marched her off 
 to bed," said Kate. 
 
 " I do not think so," said Millicent, smiling. 
 
 "You have never seen me with the chil- 
 dren," replied Kate. "You have no idea how 
 cross I can be." 
 
 " Do you make them better by it ?" asked 
 Millicent. 
 
 " Wliat an odd question !" said Kate. " Do 
 you know you are quite an enigma to me ? 
 I have been watching you for at least twenty 
 minutes, and I cannot think how you can keep 
 your temper." 
 
 " It would not do to lose it — then I should 
 have been as bad as Fanny." 
 
 " Miss Thornville," said Kate, after a
 
 MILLICENT. 145 
 
 moment's panse," '^ do you like being a 
 governess ?" 
 
 "Xo," replied Millicent, decidedly, *^I 
 really do not." 
 
 " Then, how can you bear everything so 
 beautifully ?'' asked Kate. ' ^ You have been here 
 three days, and not once have I seen you lose 
 your temper, or even get the least excited, 
 with plenty to provoke you; while I have 
 been cross, and felt angry, over and over 
 again, with everything my own way." 
 
 " My new occupation is one in which I 
 must necessarily be patient," she replied, in a 
 tone of sadness — then she added, cheerfully, 
 '^ I have undertaken a work, and I must 
 fulfil it conscientiously. ' What is worth doing 
 at all, is worth doing well !' — besides, there is 
 a satisfaction, when the day is over, in feeling 
 we have done our duty." 
 
 *' You are talking exactly like Mr. Sey- 
 mour," said Kate ; ^^ he is always trying to 
 impress upon me, every one has some duty to 
 perform — even I." 
 
 VOL. I. L
 
 146 MILLICENT. 
 
 '^ So you have/' said Millicent, a little sur- 
 prised. 
 
 " Oil ! for goodness sake, tell me what it 
 is, then ! " exclaimed Kate. '^ I have been 
 wanting amazingly to find out what in the 
 world I have to do. " 
 
 ^' Oh, a great deal," said Millicent, timidly ; 
 " there is your duty to your family, and your 
 duty to yourself." 
 
 " My duty to the family," exclaimed Kate, 
 laughing, " why, I think I do that beautifully 
 already. Don't I ride every day with either 
 Papa or Tom, and do I not bring home all the 
 news to Mamma and Clara? and then I usually 
 scold the children a little every evening ; and, 
 I forgot — I sit down every night to that soli- 
 tary little table, and dispense coffee and minute 
 fractions of cake to my worthy relations ; and 
 when this is over, sometimes, I read them all 
 to sleep ! There, Miss Thornville, I am ful- 
 filling your wishes to the letter." 
 
 Millicent laughed, and Kate continued — 
 " Oh, my poor self! I have forgotten that
 
 MILLICENT. 147 
 
 part of the business — what shall I say about 
 the first person singular ? I am afraid she gets 
 neglected; there is, really, so little time for sys- 
 tematic study, which Mr. Seymour seems to 
 think is the only kind that is of any good." 
 
 ^^ Did he really say that ?" said Millicent. 
 
 " Not exactly in those words, but something 
 nearly to the same purpose ; I would study 
 more, if I had any one to take an interest in 
 what I do. I wish I were a little child, then 
 you would teach me, would you not, Millicent ? 
 and there would be no fear of making you 
 angry, though I can be very provoking at 
 times." 
 
 Kate said this in a half-playful, half serious 
 tone ; but there was something very afiectionate 
 in the way in which she addressed Millicent 
 by her christian name. Millicent was pleased. 
 
 "I think it is more pleasant to have you as 
 a companion, than a pupil. Miss Robertson; 
 and I think we might help and encourage each 
 other." 
 
 Kate thought of Mr. Seymour's conversa- 
 
 L 2
 
 148 MILLICENT. 
 
 tion on the preceding day, and she said, in a 
 thoughtful tone — "I suppose we can." She 
 was silent for a few minutes, and then, sud- 
 denly starting up, as if to dispel some unplea- 
 sant thought, exclaimed — " Miss Thornville, 
 apropos of pupils, I have taken one in hand ; 
 I am going to surpass you altogether by giving 
 singing lessons." 
 
 ^' Who are you going to teach?" asked Mil- 
 licent — " some of the village children?" 
 
 "My dear child," replied Kate, "don't 
 insult me by such suppositions ; my pupil is 
 grown up, and, moreover, a mz'forJ." 
 
 " Oh, Lord Fortescue," exclaimed Millicent. 
 
 " Oui vraiment, ma chere, c'est lui, only 
 fancy me solfaing with that tall young man." 
 
 '^ SolfaingV repeated Millicent, laughing. 
 
 "No, that was only a pardonable little mefti- 
 songe^ the youth does know — his letters, I was 
 just going to say — but I assure you, he is 
 already learned in the discreet and improving 
 science of music, only, unfortunately for his 
 young lady friends, he cannot sing duets."
 
 MILLICENT. 149 
 
 " He was calling here just now, was he 
 not ? " asked Millicent. 
 
 ^^ Yes, — did you see him ? " 
 
 " I merely caught a glimpse of him as he 
 rode by. Is he nice-looking ?" 
 
 ^* Oh, very !" replied Kate ; *^he has such 
 a good face, and such lovely hair and eyes ! 
 Do you know, Millicent," she exclaimed after 
 a pause, " I have found a strong likeness in 
 you to Lord Fortescue ?" 
 
 " Nonsense, Kate," — and Millicent laughed. 
 
 *' Eeally, I am quite serious. You will see 
 him to-morrow, at church — ^his pew is exactly 
 opposite ours — look if I am not right." 
 
 " I am very slow in finding likenesses," 
 said Millicent — "besides, at chuixh, I seldom 
 think of persons near." 
 
 " You do not mean to say," exclaimed 
 Kate, " that you never look off your prayer- 
 book?'' 
 
 " I wish I did not;" replied Millicent. 
 
 " There is no harm in it," said Kate. " Yoir 
 cannot help seeing things in church — I always
 
 150 MILLICENT. 
 
 know everything that goes on — who comes, 
 and who stays away." 
 
 " You would do for a clergyman's wife," 
 said Millicent, laughing — she was stirring the 
 fire at that moment, so she did not notice the 
 colour mount to Kate's cheek, and she went 
 on — " Does Mr. Seymour keep a curate?" 
 
 " No," replied Kate, hurriedly — ^^ he does 
 all the duty himself, both morning and after- 
 noon." 
 
 '' How nice !" said Millicent : " I expect a 
 treat in hearing him preach." 
 
 " His sermons are perfection," replied Kate ; 
 ^' I could listen to them all day, but the worst 
 of it is, I forget them so soon." 
 
 " Sunday must be very pleasant at Staple- 
 hurst, with such a clergyman," said Millicent. 
 
 " It is to most people," replied Kate ; '^ but 
 it is a dull day to me." 
 
 "Oh, Miss Robertson!" exclaimed Milli- 
 cent. 
 
 , "It is true — Mamma is always crosser, and 
 the children more unbearable."
 
 MILLICENT. 151 
 
 " Could you not try to make them better ?" 
 said Millicent. 
 
 ^^ I have nothing to do with the children !" 
 exclaimed Kate, in sui-prise ; ^^ I am only too 
 happy when they are out of the way." 
 
 " I am so sorry you think that," said Milli- 
 cent, gravely ; "I never had a little brother 
 or sister, but how I should have loved them ; 
 and, on Sunday, it would have been so delight- 
 ful to teach them texts and hymns, and tell 
 them of heaven." 
 
 All the pride in Kate's beautiful face van- 
 ished before that look of sorrowful reproof, 
 and fixing her eyes with admii^ation on Milli- 
 cent's sweet face, she said — ^* MilUcent, you 
 are an angel ; I shall never be like you ! " 
 
 ^* Please, do not talk so," said Millicent, 
 colouring ; ^' you must not flatter me." 
 
 *^ It is not flattery — it is the real truth ; if 
 you were not the best creature alive, you 
 could not have borne all the troubles of the 
 past year ; poor dear — I am sure you never 
 deserved them ! "
 
 152 MILLICENT. 
 
 *^0h, hush, Miss Eobertson!" said Millicent, 
 seriously; ^' it is really very wrong to say so.'' 
 
 Kate tossed her head, and, putting her 
 hand playfully over Millicent's lips, said, — 
 " Come, come,' fair demoiselle, I cannot have 
 you lecture, or I shall rebel. I came in with 
 the express intention of telling you Lord 
 Fortescue dines here on Monday next, and he 
 wants very much to have some music — could 
 we not get up a trio ?" 
 
 " But I shall not join you," replied Milli- 
 cent, sadly. 
 
 " Leave that to me,'' said Kate. " Would 
 you like to sing ? — you have the afternoon to 
 yourself. Don't trouble your head with the 
 children — Nurse will look after them, for the 
 present. Come to my room, and choose some 
 pretty songs." 
 
 Mrs. Robertson was in a wonderfully good 
 humour after Lord Fortescue's visit, and when 
 her husband came in from his ride, she 
 launched forth in ecstatic praises of their new 
 visitor.
 
 MILLICENT. 153 
 
 ^* Yes, he seems a nice young fellow," said 
 Mr. Kobertson ; "he and Katie got on very 
 well together, the other day. He does not 
 seem proud." 
 
 " Proud ! oh, dear, no ! " replied ^Irs. 
 Robertson, "he is as humble as possible ; and 
 when I asked him to dinner, he thanked me 
 as if all the favour were on oiu* side." 
 
 " I suppose the dinner is," said Mr. Robert- 
 son, slyly. 
 
 " John !" said Mrs. Robertson, " and he is 
 quite an acquisition to the neighbourhood," she 
 continued — "as nice a person as one could 
 wish. He evidently likes Kate. I shall throw 
 them a good deal together. Kate does us 
 credit, does she not, John ? " 
 
 " She does her school more credit," he re- 
 pUed. " Kate is much superior to her sister, 
 who got a home education." 
 
 " Yes — but I could not bear all my children 
 to be as proud," said Mrs. Robertson. "I 
 find it sometimes hard to endure Kate's 
 coldness."
 
 154 MILLICENT. 
 
 "She does not mean it, poor dear," said 
 Mr. Robertson, putting in a softening word 
 for his Katie. 
 
 " I only wish she and Clara agreed better," 
 continued Mrs. Robertson. 
 
 " Let 'em alone, my dear ; girls will squab- 
 ble a little, now and then — it does them good,'* 
 he replied. 
 
 " I am not at all satisfied with my gover- 
 ness," she said, presently. 
 
 " Oh, nonsense, Mamma !" replied her hus- 
 band. " I am sure she is a nice girl." 
 
 " She is too airish and whimsical," said Mrs. 
 Robertson. " I can never put up with it." 
 
 " If she puts up with our bad-behaved chil- 
 dren, the least we can do is to put up with 
 her — though I don't see anything to bear with, 
 for my part." , 
 
 " That is just like you, John — you approve 
 of everything out of opposition to me." 
 
 *'Well, well, dear, — let her alone, for the 
 present. You cannot always be changing," 
 he said, in a distressed tone.
 
 MILLICENT. 155 
 
 " There, now ! to hear you talk, people 
 would think I never kept my governesses any 
 time." 
 
 " Well, Mamma, now don't trouble yourself 
 so much about them. Let her take her own 
 way with the children — it is sure to answer 
 best.'^ 
 
 " Oh, of course, her plans are better than 
 mine. What husband ever did like his wife's 
 arrangements? Ah, John, when I am gone, 
 you will be sorry, then !'' 
 
 " Come, come. Mamma," said Mr. Robert- 
 son, really fancying he had said something 
 wrong — '' you shall take your own way, I will 
 not interfere. When is Lord Fortescue coming 
 to dinner?" 
 
 " On Monday," replied Mrs. Robertson. 
 " But I suppose that is wrong, too — poor 
 women are contmually doing something to 
 displease !" — and, fancying herself a martyr, 
 she left the room, to prepare for dinner.
 
 156 MILLICENT. 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 There stands the messenger of truth ; 
 
 and by him, in strains as sweet 
 
 As angels use, the Gospel whispers peace. 
 He 'stablishes the strong, restores the weak, 
 Reclaims the wand'rer, binds the broken heart.* 
 
 COWPER. 
 
 The winter sun rose over the hills, and his 
 slanting beams shone feebly in at Millicent's 
 windows ; she awoke with an impression that 
 it was very late, which was confirmed by her 
 watch ; the hands pointed to half-past eight 
 o'clock. Millicent had a great dislike to be 
 late on Sunday morning, and felt vexed that 
 the servant had forgotten to call* her. Just 
 then the bells had begun to send forth their so- 
 norous voice from the old tower. Mr. Seymour
 
 MILLICENT. 157 
 
 had made Sunday a happy time at Staplehiirst, 
 and the villagers felt it so ; and as the stui'dy 
 ringers mounted the belfiy, to usher in with 
 glad sounds, the day of rest, they blessed G-od, 
 with heart and voice for sending them such a 
 good and holy pastor. There were no di- 
 visions, no dissensions at Staplehurst, no 
 Jesuitical Tractarians, who sowed tares among 
 the wheat, or trained young and promising 
 flowers for the rank and poisonous atmosphere 
 of Rome; no churchman railed against dissenter, 
 or dissenter against churchman ; the breath of 
 discord never fanned the flame of strife. 
 Over this lovely nook, embosomed among the 
 hills of western England, peace spread her 
 angel wings, for God had sent a holy one and 
 true to guard his flock and prepare them for 
 Paradise. Mr. Seymour preached heaven, and 
 heaven's Lord, instead of forms and ceremonies; 
 and though he loved his own division of the 
 fold best, and thought it most pure and beauti- 
 ful, yet he did not condemn or despise those 
 who differed only in outward forms. When
 
 158 MILLICENT. 
 
 first, ten years ago, the Staplehurst hills had 
 welcomed in their young Eector, a dissenting 
 chapel, each Sabbath, contained a little band of 
 worshippers, but it had been long since closed, 
 and now, all might be seen gathering instruc- 
 tion as it fell from the lips of their revered pas- 
 tor. Dissenting mothers brought their infants 
 to him for baptism, and dissenting sons and 
 daughters were united in marriage at his hands, 
 and sealed yet closer in their ties of love by 
 his advice and blesssing. 
 
 Millicent found that not herself alone, but 
 every one else, was late on Sunday ; Kate, as 
 usual, came in when prayers were half over ; 
 Clara did not arrive till breakfast was nearly 
 finished; Mr. Robertson read the newspaper, 
 and Mrs. Robertson, as Kate had hinted, 
 seemed crosser than usual. Millicent retreated 
 as soon as possible to the school- room, and 
 mstructed the children for a quarter of an hour 
 in catechism ; this was more pleasant than 
 their former Sunday lessons, as Millicent, who 
 had been accustomed to teaching in her own
 
 MILLICENT. 159 
 
 village schools, knew how to make it very 
 easy, and Augustus, and even Fanny, were as 
 attentive as she could possibly expect. When 
 Millicent was dressed for church, she went into 
 the dining-room, supposing, all the family 
 would walk together ; she found, however, 
 only Clara there, warming herself by the 
 fire. 
 
 " It is not a very nice morning for you to 
 go out," said Millicent ; '* are not you afraid. 
 Miss Clara, of taking cold ? " 
 
 "I never walk to church in winter," she 
 replied ; " Mamma and I always drive." 
 
 Millicent went to the window to look out at 
 the snow, which had fallen thickly in the 
 night, and was wreathed in fairy-like festoons 
 over the shrubberies. As she was admuing the 
 white garb in which all nature was clothed, she 
 saw Mr. Robertson and Katie wending their way 
 through the snowy path across the park. " Your 
 Papa and sister are gone, I see," said Millicent ; 
 " had not the children and myself better be 
 starting ? I dislike being late."
 
 160 MILLICENT. 
 
 "You cannot go till they are ready," said 
 Clara; ^^ there is plenty of time." 
 
 Millicent coloured at this abrupt speech, but 
 she did not reply; and just then, Fanny, and 
 Augustus came down, followed by Mrs. Ro- 
 bertson, looking very self-satisfied, in a green 
 velvet bonnet and feathers. 
 
 "Are you ready, Mamma?" said Clara; 
 " the brougham has been waiting at least five 
 minutes." 
 
 " Oh, what a story, Clara," exclaimed Au- 
 gustus, " it has only just come to the door." 
 
 " I cannot think how you can suffer Augus- 
 tus to be so rude. Miss Thornville," said Clara, 
 taking up her muff. " Do come, Mamma." 
 
 "Well, my dear, don't be in such a hurry," 
 replied Mrs. Robertson, who was squeezing her 
 hands into a tight pair of yellow gloves ; — 
 " could not we make room for Augustus in the 
 carriage ? Nurse says his chillblains are so 
 bad, he ought not to walk." 
 
 " Then, if Augustus does not walk, I am 
 sure I won't," said Fanny.
 
 MILLICENT. 161 
 
 "We cannot have them both, Mamma!" 
 exclaimed Clara. 
 
 " It is such a little way, my dear," pleaded 
 Mrs. Robertson, as they all went across the 
 hall, "Augustus can sit between us, and I will 
 take Fanny on my lap." 
 
 " As you please. Mamma," replied Clara. 
 
 The children jumped into the brougham 
 without any further questions ; Mrs. Eobertson 
 and Clara followed, brushing by Millicent, who 
 was standing in the hall. As the footman 
 closed the carriage door, Augustus cried out, 
 " Mamma, what is Miss Thornville to do ?" 
 
 "Walk, to be sure, my dear," replied Mrs. 
 Robertson ; and they drove off, leaving Milli- 
 cent to her own reflections ; but the butler 
 was holding open the door, and, putting down 
 her thick crape veil, she set forth on her soli- 
 tary walk. At any other time she would have 
 found the way, over the crisp snow, sparkling 
 in the sun, pleasant ; but, now, her thoughts 
 were too sad, for her to notice anything 
 around. Mrs. Robertson's perfect indifference, 
 
 VOL. r. M
 
 162 MILLICENT. 
 
 and Clara's cold, almost impertinent* manner, 
 had wounded her feelings deeply. The entire 
 dependence of her situation, and the way in 
 which they looked down upon her, were al- 
 most more than she could bear. Tears rolled 
 silently down her cheeks, as she reflected, only 
 one short year ago, she had been walking to 
 the house of God, the joyful and happy com- 
 panion of her beloved parents; but the remem- 
 brance of her mother soothed her, as she 
 thought of her early instructions — that she 
 had not been trained for a life of pleasure, but 
 of self-control and submission to whatever cir- 
 cumstances God might allot to her. — I must 
 learn to bear it all patiently, thought Millicent, 
 and try to do my duty in the situation where 
 God has now seen fit to place me, without 
 murmuring. And, yet, she felt it was, indeed, 
 very trying to be despised by persons, who her 
 pride told her, were decidedly her inferiors, by 
 birth and education. Poor Millicent ! — there 
 was a great struggle between right and wrong 
 going on in her mind ; sometimes, pride whis-
 
 MILLICENT. 163 
 
 pered, "Why do you not answer, and show 
 some sph-it ?" — ^then conscience reminded her, 
 — " Charity suffereth all things, and is kind." 
 But pride said again, ^^Eecollect, you were 
 brought up an heiress, — don't forget that !'' 
 Then, a voice from the past murmured, in a 
 subdued tone, ^^ Those days are gone," — and 
 her favourite lines from Longfellow came into 
 her mind : — 
 
 * Trust no future, howe'er pleasant, 
 Let the dead past bury its dead ! 
 Act, act in the living Present ! 
 Heart within, and God o'erhead.' 
 
 That is the way I must act, she thought : 
 and then, lifting up her soft, sad glance to the 
 heavens, she exclaimed, ^^ Father, help thy 
 child !" and, as if in answer to this whispered 
 petition, a voice seemed to reply, i' I will be a 
 Father to the fatherless." And Millicent felt 
 comforted as she entered the churchyard. 
 
 Staplehurst church was a picturesque old 
 building, covered with ivy — standing on a 
 hill, commanding a lovely view, for miles 
 
 M 2
 
 164 MILLICENT. 
 
 around, of peaceful, pastoral scenery, and 
 placed in the midst of a beautiful churchyard, 
 planted tastefully with weeping willows, box, 
 and white rose trees, which last scented the 
 air in the summer with their exquisite flowers. 
 The villagers always stood up when the rector's 
 or 'the squire's' people came into the church ; 
 and, as Millicent passed down the aisle in deep 
 mourning, the congregation, who settled in 
 their own minds she must belong to Lord For- 
 tescue, all rose, to the no small mortification 
 of Mrs. Eobertson, who was watching for her. 
 Tiie rest of the family were already in church, 
 and Mrs. Eobertson made Millicent sit by her 
 in a corner of the pew. The unsuspecting girl 
 thought it a mark of attention, and was 
 pleased at what she fancied kindness ; she 
 never imagined the reason she had that 
 seat was, that she might not face Lord 
 Fortescue, whose pew was opposite theirs. 
 He came quietly down (the church,) soon 
 after Millicent arrived, and invited an old 
 man out of the aisle into his pew.
 
 MILLICENT. 165 
 
 Millicent took one glance around at the 
 time-worn monuments of the Fortescues 
 and Seymours, who had been for so many- 
 centuries the possessors of Staplehurst : she 
 she looked up too, at the organ-loft, and the 
 neatly- dressed school-children ; at the old-oak 
 pulpit ; at the unadorned chancel, and high 
 deep-set windows — all unaltered, unchanged, 
 for many a long year. Her thoughts imme- 
 diately went flying back to the old church at 
 Heatherton, and a melancholy feeling stole 
 over her, fraught with past recollections, when 
 Mr. Seymours deep-toned voice recalled her 
 attention. 
 
 Millicent thought she had never heard the 
 prayers so well read, nor a more beautiful ser- 
 mon — the text was, " God is love.'^ The 
 whole of the first part of the sermon, was 
 showing our Heavenly Father's great and 
 wonderful love, in caring for a sinful world, 
 and sending the Saviour on earth, to become 
 our atonement. " Yes, dear brethren," he 
 said, " God did love us, and has loved us ever
 
 166 MILLICENT. 
 
 since the world began, and yet we refuse to 
 obey his express command, and love each 
 other ; we will not, because we prefer hatred 
 to love ; it is easier for man in a natural state 
 to tyrannise over his fellow-creatures; — '- 
 easier to backbite and to slander than to love ; 
 easier to wound and distress than to love. 
 But, dear friends, this ought not to be. I 
 dare say most of you will say, — ^What does this 
 mean — ^it does not apply to me ? But it does. 
 I do not say you would willingly do any 
 injury to your fellow-men ; but there are other 
 injuries besides the unjust dealing — ^there is 
 the cold cutting word, the haughty frown, the 
 wish to make those under you feel their infe- 
 riority — ^the wish and intention to keep them 
 down. Brethren, this is not love." 
 
 MUlicent looked down — she felt these had 
 already been her trials — Mr; Seymour must 
 know them, and be preaching expressly 
 for Mrs. Robertson — ^but she did not ap- 
 ply it to herself — ^though Kate did, and 
 determined for the future to be less proud
 
 MILLICENT. 167 
 
 to [her own family, and more obliging 
 and kind. Poor Katie ! she always made 
 a great many resolves while hearing Mr. 
 Seymour's sermons, which, however, she spee- 
 dily forgot, till some conversation with their 
 rector revived them for a time. 
 
 Kate took care to wait for Millicent coming 
 out of church, she was annoyed at her being 
 left to walk all alone on her first Sunday ; the 
 childi^en went home in the brougham with Mrs. 
 Eobertson, so Millicent was glad to return 
 with Mr. Eobertson and Katie, who were both 
 very kind. In the afternoon, ^lillicent had to 
 stay with the children, who never went to 
 church twice ; Mrs. Eobertson thought it was 
 too much for them — so, in fine weather they 
 walked out, or else they played with their 
 Sunday puzzles, and got into mischief Milli- 
 cent thought she must try a reform, and not 
 allow Augustus to play tricks on the butler — 
 and Fanny to finish her Sunday in tearing her 
 books and plaguing the old nurse, a good- 
 natured creature, who helped to spoil the
 
 168 MILLICENT. 
 
 children to their heart's content, but who 
 heartily wished they were better behaved, 
 and more like little Miss Seymour!"* Milli- 
 cent formed a plan of telling Bible stories, 
 and asking them to repeat to her as 
 much as they could remember and she 
 began to teach them to sing a hymn, and 
 one or two of the easy chants, so that they 
 might be able to follow the service better, and 
 not stare about the church so much. Those 
 afternoon hours were usually dreadfully tedious 
 to the children, but Millicent tried so hard in 
 her pretty engaging way, to make them plea- 
 sant and agreeable to her pupils, that she 
 could not fail to succeed; and when Kate 
 came into the school-room, after church, she 
 found Augustus sitting on Millicent's lap, 
 playing with her curls, and Fanny humming 
 "0 be joyful in the Lord," to the Grand 
 Chant. 
 
 ^^ Well, you are good children,'^ exclaimed 
 Kate, " what have you been doing with your- 
 selves all the afternoon — you have not been 
 out?"
 
 MILLICENT. 169 
 
 "No, because of my chillblains," replied 
 Augustus; "but we have had a capital after 
 noon." 
 
 "Yes," added Fanny, "and Miss Thornville 
 says I shall sing nicely in time." 
 
 " Have you been singing ? that is very 
 nice," said Kate, taking off her bonnet and 
 cloak, and sitting on a little stool at Millicent's 
 feet. 
 
 " Yes," exclaimed Augustus, " and we have 
 had stories, and I can tell you one, too," and 
 he began to repeat to Kate one of those Milli- 
 cent had been telling them. Fanny inter- 
 rupted him a good deal, and Kate thought 
 they were going to quarrel, but Millicent 
 stopped her gently, promising she should relate 
 the next, all by herself; she was sure her sister 
 would listen. And Kate did listen, as much 
 to please Millicent as Fanny — and then she 
 told them about her walk, and the frost, and 
 of an old woman who fell down in the snow ; 
 so that it became dark, and the school-room 
 tea came in and found Kate there, for Augustus
 
 170 MILLICENT. 
 
 would not let Millicent ring for candles before, 
 he said it was " so jolly to have sister Katie, 
 and sit in the fire-light ! " And then Augustus 
 made Kate stay, and have some tea with 
 them. 
 
 ^' I wish, sister Katie, you would come 
 and sit with us like this every day," said 
 Augustus. 
 
 " I cannot come every day,'' replied Kate ; 
 " but I will sometimes, if you will always be 
 as good." 
 
 ^' I am sure they will try," said Millicent ; 
 ^^ mind, Fanny dear, don't drop your toast on 
 Miss Robertson's dress." 
 
 ^' You will come into the drawing-room to- 
 night, Miss Thornville," said Fanny ; "all our 
 governesses do on Sunday." 
 
 Millicent coloured a little, and Kate looked 
 at her watch — "Miss Thornville," she ex- 
 claimed, starting up, "you and the children 
 have been so fascinating, that I have forgotten 
 the dressing-bell, and have only ten minutes to 
 prepare for dinner; Fanny, if you like, you 
 may come and help me."
 
 MILLICEXT. 171 
 
 " Mayn't I come, too ? " asked Augustus. 
 
 " No," replied Kate, "you shall fasten my 
 dress to-morrow evening; we must not all 
 leave Miss Thorn ville, it is nide." 
 
 When the children came down to dessert, 
 instead of being in disgrace with the gover- 
 ness, and weary and sulky after a dull after- 
 noon, they were cheerful and and pleased, and 
 had plenty to tell about sister Kate coming to 
 tea, and the nice stories. And Kate was 
 pleased with herself, too ; she thought she had 
 been doing just what Mr. Sejrmour would have 
 liked, and she was surprised how quickly the 
 time had passed, and what good little things 
 the children had been. Millicent came into 
 the drawing-room after her pupils had gone to 
 bed, and Kate and she talked and read, whilst 
 the rest dozed till bed-time, which was always 
 earher than usual on Sunday. 
 
 The next evening, Mrs. Robertson was all 
 excitement and expectation about her visitor, 
 forming all sorts of plans for Kate, and already 
 fancying her mistress of Horton Chase, but
 
 172 MILLICENT. 
 
 Mrs. Eobertson, was quite provoked at Kate's 
 entire indifference about her costume, while 
 her mother was anxious she should put on 
 her most becoming dress. Mrs. Robertson 
 did not admonish or advise in Kate's toilette, 
 she never dictated to that young lady, besides, 
 it is highly probable, a touch from Mrs. 
 Robertson's hand would have spoiled Kate's 
 really elegant taste. 
 
 Millicent had seen very little of Kate, all 
 day, when, shortly before dinner, she came into 
 the school-room, looking very happy and 
 smiling; she was simply, almost plainly dressed, 
 yet, with an unmistakeable style ; and Millicent 
 said in a pleasant tone, " you look very nice, 
 indeed. Miss Robertson ! " 
 
 " I like to hear you say so," replied Kate, 
 " I think your taste admirable." 
 
 Millicent bowed laughingly, saying, "Ten 
 thousand thanks." 
 
 " Apropos of looks," said Kate, " I want 
 you to excel to-night, — I saw a very hand- 
 some crape dress on your bed when you were
 
 MILLICENT. 173 
 
 unpacking — do put it on and look very fascin- 
 ating, you know well how — and be in the 
 drawing room when we come out from 
 dinner." 
 
 *' But who says I am to come ?" Millicent 
 asked, doubtingly. 
 
 " Moi, je le disj" replied Kate. 
 
 " But does Mrs. Robertson know ?" 
 
 " I told her you were coming/' Kate 
 answered. 
 
 " I hope she was not displeased," said 
 Millicent. 
 
 *'You most provoking of mortals!" ex- 
 claimed KatCj ^' I will not answer one 
 single question more — but tell you to look 
 your loveliest;" Millicent laughed, and Kate 
 continued — " Mr. Seymour is coming, we are 
 never complete without him, and Papa 
 thought he would make Lord Fortescue feel 
 more at home, — au revoir, — good-bye, chil- 
 dren," and Kate was gone. 
 
 She only entered the drawing room just 
 in time, for Lord Fortescue came almost
 
 174 MILLICENT. 
 
 immediately ; his usual serious expression 
 vanished, when, after the, ^^How do you dos," 
 had been gone through, he went and stood by 
 Kate, at the table, and talked to her about 
 his music which he had sent for from London. 
 Kate listened, and talked, and gave her opinion; 
 and a stranger remarking them, would have 
 fancied from her tone of confidence, and his 
 relying, almost diffident manner, that Katie 
 was the lady of rank, and Lord Fortescue, 
 some younger brother, looking up to her for 
 advice. Mrs. Robertson, however, never 
 thought anything of the kind — she was still 
 building Chateaux en Espagne, which she, 
 foolish woman, imagined would one day be 
 realised. 
 
 As the clock struck six, Mr. Seymour came 
 in ; what made Kate^s colour deepen, and a 
 brighter expression than usual light up her 
 face, when, he shook hands with her ? — She 
 had looked pleased, before, with Lord Fortes- 
 cue, but now, quite a difierent expression danced 
 in her eyes, and played in a smile round her
 
 MILLICEXT. 175 
 
 mouth, as she received Mrs. Seymour's 
 messages, and little Mary's love — and a shade 
 of disappointment certainly mantled her brow, 
 when dinner was announced and Mr. Seymour 
 took Mrs. Eobertson to the dining-room ; she 
 almost started as if from a dream when Lord 
 Fortescue offered her his arm to follow. 
 Clara had always been jealous of her sister, 
 but now, more than ever, as she brought up 
 the rear with her father. — Kate soon recoverd 
 from her day dream, or reverie, or whatever it 
 was, and conversed animatedly and sensibly ; 
 with Lord Fortescue, she never talked nonsense; 
 but, now and then, her dark eyes glanced up 
 from under their long fringes at Mr. Seymour, 
 who was patiently enduring Mrs. Eobertson. 
 
 Kate whispered '^ charma?ite," to Millicent 
 as she entered the drawing-room, who certainly 
 looked uncommonly lovely that evening, — her 
 black crape told a tale' of itself, a tale, whose 
 interest was yet increased, by the sweet young 
 face of the wearer. — She was standing by the 
 piano with Kate, translating the 'Maiglocken'
 
 176 MILLICENT. 
 
 when the gentlemen joined them; both the 
 girls turned round, and Mr. Seymour came 
 forward to speak to Millicent, — but Lord 
 Fortescue, who had advanced towards the 
 piano, stood as though rooted to the spot — 
 he became almost pale, while his lips trembled, 
 and he looked towards Millicent with an ex- 
 pression, in which surprise and admiration were 
 strongly blended — Mrs. Robertson blindly sup- 
 posed he was admiring her elder daughter; 
 but Clara, from the other side of the room, 
 was silently watching him, and, with her sharp, 
 keen eyes, saw that the look, the gaze, were 
 fixed on Millicent ! — She hated Millicent, be- 
 cause Kate distinguished her, and, because she 
 was pretty and a governess, and treasured 
 up that look in her heart. She crossed the 
 room quickly, and coming up to Lord For- 
 tescue, said — "I hope you like Staplehurst ? " 
 He actually started, but paid no attention 
 to her question. The next moment, however, 
 he recovered himself, and, knowing she had 
 spoken, thougli he was not at all aware of what
 
 MILLICENT. 177 
 
 she had said, turned to her, saying — ^' I beg 
 your pardon. Miss Clara." 
 
 " Oh, I only asked if you liked Staplehurst," 
 she replied, looking at Millicent, furtively, to 
 see if she had observed Lord Fortescue's agi- 
 tation ; but Clara need not have troubled her- 
 self, for ^Millicent was completely occupied in 
 talking to Mr. Seymour. Lord Fortescue 
 forced himself to answer Clara's common-place 
 questions; and when these ceased, he stood 
 motionless, his eyes fixed on the pattern of the 
 carpet. There was one other person who had 
 been watching Lord Fortescue, though with a 
 totally different feeling from Clara — and that one 
 was Kate. She had thought he would admire 
 Millicent ; but she never expected that almost 
 passionate gaze; and Katie looked fondly, 
 proudly on the orphan gu'l, and thought how 
 worthy she would be of the affections of such 
 a man as Lord Fortescue. Kate rose, and, 
 going up to him, invited him to the piano, 
 where ^Millicent was still standing, and intro- 
 duced her to him as — " My friend. Miss Thorii- 
 
 VOL. I. N
 
 178 MILLICENT. 
 
 ville." They both bowed, and Lord Fortescue 
 was going to speak, when Clara again came 
 forward, and claimed his attention by asking 
 some trivial question. 
 
 " You promised us a song, Katie," said her 
 father. 
 
 " You shall have one, Papa. Lord For- 
 tescue, you will sing with us? I have some 
 easy trios." 
 
 " Oh, not now, thank you," he replied, hur- 
 riedly ; " You must sing alone." 
 
 " Oh, but, Lord Fortescue, you really must. 
 Miss Thornville and I, have been practising on 
 purpose ; you might try the ' Canadian Boat 
 Song' — ^nothing can be easier." 
 
 " I suppose I cannot refuse ; but you must 
 excuse mistakes — Miss Thornville, do you take 
 lirst or second ? " He said this timidly, and 
 really to hear the sound of her voice. 
 
 " I have a low voice," she replied ; "I 
 always sing seconds." 
 
 He again looked at her a thrilling look, 
 which she felt. She coloured, and turned 
 away.
 
 MILLICENT. 179 
 
 " Come," said Katie, " where are our trios?" 
 Millicent turned over a pile of music, and 
 placed some on the stand. Thanks, raia 
 cara^' — said Katie, sitting down to the piano, 
 " now, attention;" and running her fingers bril- 
 liantly over the keys, she began. — Their voices 
 harmonised well — ^they were all suited to their 
 parts ; Kate's was a brilliant soprano — !Milli- 
 cent's low and sweet, and Lord Fortescue sang 
 his bass correctly, and with taste. — Every one 
 applauded when the song was ended, and asked 
 for another; and as Katie found Lord For- 
 tescue really understood music, and could sing 
 at sight, she made him continue. Xo one 
 could ever refuse Katie's — "You must;" so 
 they went from song to song — IVir. Eobertson 
 applauding loudly — Mr. Seymour quietly 
 pleased, and Mrs. Robertson charmed with 
 Katie and Lord Fortescue, and wonderfully 
 tolerant towards Millicent. To tell the truth 
 — ^before Mr. Seymour, she would not have 
 liked to act otherwise ; whilst Clara looked on, 
 with pouting lip, and a sense of neglect in her 
 
 n2
 
 180 MILLICENT. 
 
 heart. — After a while, the trio left off singing, 
 and talked, and stood looking over the music ; 
 presently, Millicent asked Katie to sing alone ; 
 and Katie sang an Italian bravura : the song 
 was very difficult, and required great execution. 
 Kate had been taught by first-rate masters, 
 and she performed her part, as well as they 
 could have desired, had they been present, — 
 then she got up, and made Millicent take her 
 place. Millicent would not sing alone, so Kate 
 told her to play. — She paused for a moment, 
 and then began in strains of exquisite har- 
 mony ; then the sounds rose loudly, stormily, 
 and trembled and shook like a tempestuous 
 sea; and then they sank gradually, till they 
 died away in a perfect calm. It was music 
 that made one breathless; and a few minutes 
 elapsed ere they spoke — Lord Fortescue was 
 the first to break the silence. — ^' Oh, thank 
 you ; how very beautiful ! — is it not Men- 
 delsohn's ?'' 
 
 " It is my own," replied Millicent, timidly. 
 
 ''Your own? — oh, charming!'^ exclaimed
 
 MILLICENT. 181 
 
 Kate ; " why did you not tell me before, you 
 played so exquisitely ? — it is quite enviable, is 
 it not ? '' she said, looking at Mr, Seymour. 
 
 " Quite a treat, indeed," he replied. "Pray 
 do not rise, Miss Thornville — we are expecting 
 something more." 
 
 " Oh, yes," said Katie ; "I could listen all 
 night." 
 
 Again ]!ilillicent played ; the melody was 
 quite different from the first, and yet the 
 style was the same — a melancholy pervaded 
 them both. Mrs. Robertson began to feel 
 fidgetty -7— Millicent was usurping too much 
 attention, — and she suddenly interrupted the 
 general enthusiasm, by asking if any one 
 played bagatelle. Katie liked a change, so 
 she challenged Lord Fortescue and Millicent, 
 to stand herself and Clara. They went into 
 the library adjoining, and Katie whirled about 
 her balls, and kept the mai'ks — encouraged 
 Millicent, and helped Clara. She seemed mis- 
 tress of the whole room — that proud, beautiful 
 girl ! — and even Clara could not help admiring
 
 182 MILLICENT. 
 
 her, in spite of her jealousy. Lord Fortescue 
 was always hovering near Millicent, talking to 
 her softly; he asked her questions, and lis- 
 tened almost reverentially to the sweet tones 
 of her voice. 
 
 " Lord Fortescue, you are vanquished, by 
 twelve," called out Katie. '* If you do not 
 care to play another game, perhaps you will 
 come with me into the conservatory ; as you 
 are fond of flowers, you must see my varie- 
 gated camellia, it is full of blossoms, — and so 
 lovely, it well deserves its name of ' Prima 
 Donna.' " 
 
 Clara enticed Millicent back to the drawing- 
 room ; she was thoroughly vexed with her, 
 for playing such a prominent part, and glad 
 to get her away from Lord Fortescue, who fol- 
 lowed Katie into the conservatory. '' Miss 
 Robertson," he said, " your plant is indeed a 
 Prima Donna; I never saw a camellia with 
 so many flowers before." 
 
 " I assure you, I am not a little proud of 
 it," replied Katie. ^*This white one was
 
 MILLICENT. 183 
 
 almost as beautiful, but it lasted such a sbort. 
 time ; I cut a flower, this evening, for Miss 
 Thorn ville, but it fell to pieces directly." 
 
 " That is a pity," he said, ^^ white and black 
 look so well together. Do you know, Miss 
 Eobertson," he added, after a pause, " Miss 
 Thornville is so extremely like my mother, 
 that I was quite struck with the resemblance, 
 when I entered the di'amng-room ; next time 
 you come to the Chase, I wiir show you my 
 mother's portrait, and you cannot fail to trace 
 the likeness as I do.'^ 
 
 " It is rather singular," said Katie, smiling, 
 '^ for I certainly fancied there was a likeness 
 between you and Miss Thom^ille, and now, 
 I suppose, I was right." 
 
 " I was always considered extremely like 
 my mother," said Lord Fortescue, ^^ rather to 
 the disappointment of my father's family, who 
 were always recognized by their family likeness." 
 
 " Does not Miss Thornville play beauti- 
 fully ?" asked Katie ; "I never heard such 
 taste."
 
 184 MILLICENT. 
 
 " Nor I," he replied ; ^' she must have had 
 first-rate instruction, combined with great 
 talent/' 
 
 " There is an immense amount of genius in 
 such impromptu compositions," said Kate; 
 " though, of course, without instruction it 
 never would have been developed.'^ 
 
 " I rather differ fi:'om you, Miss Robertson ; 
 I think such genius breaks forth even un- 
 aided by instruction, though, of course, it 
 never attains to any perfection." 
 
 '^ Do you mean to say, then, that if Miss 
 Thornville had never been taught, she could 
 have played as she did to-night ?" 
 
 "No, certainly not; but her talent must 
 have shown itself, and she would have added 
 one more to the class of self-taught musi- 
 cians." 
 
 " It has never been my good fortune to 
 meet one of these wonders !" exclaimed Kate 
 laughing. 
 
 " I have heard several, on the continent," 
 replied Lord Fortescue ; "a German, tutor to
 
 MILLICENT. 185 
 
 a young fiiend of mine, had never been taught 
 a single note, and yet he played for hours his 
 own compositions, those of others of course by 
 ear. I recollect, too, Sir James Heather- 
 ton's '' 
 
 '^ Oh, do you know the Heathertons?" 
 interrupted Kate : '^ they are Miss Thomyille's 
 cousms, and the present possessors of her pro- 
 perty." 
 
 " What, Heatherton Manor ? — did that be- 
 long to Miss Thorn ville?" he asked, in sur- 
 prise. "I have a faint impression of staying 
 there once, when I was quite a child, but the 
 people and place had quite passed from my 
 mind, till I met Sir James on the continent ; 
 I imagine it must have been him I visited." 
 
 " It must have been the Thomvilles," said 
 Kate ; '^ it is only three months ago that it 
 passed from their hands." 
 
 " The only thing I at all remember," replied 
 Lord Fortescue, laughing, " was a large gi'een 
 parrot, that bit my fingers through the bars of 
 his cage."
 
 186 MILLICENT. 
 
 '^ I only heard Miss Thornville telling the 
 children of the green parrot yesterday/' said 
 Katie ; " you must talk to her about it, she 
 will be so pleased — but how is it you do not 
 remember her ?'' 
 
 ^' I was scarcely three years old, I believe, 
 at the time," he replied ; ^^ and as my mother, 
 who took me there, never talked of it after- 
 wards, I forgot all about my visit." 
 
 "Miss Thornville is not quite nineteen," 
 said Katie, "so she must have been a baby 
 when you were there — but how odd you should 
 have been at Heatherton !" 
 o Just then Mr. Robertson joined them, and 
 they all three returned to the drawing-room. 
 
 The rest of the evening Katie talked exclu- 
 sively to Mr. Seymour ; and it must have been 
 seriously, for Katie's proud look softened, as it 
 always did when Mr. Seymour conversed on 
 such subjects. It was quite late when they 
 all parted, and that pleasant evening was 
 over; for it was, indeed, pleasant, and Kate 
 and Millicent, as well as Lord Fortescue, never
 
 MILLICENT. 187 
 
 forgot it — neither did Clara, though her remi- 
 niscences were of a different kind from the 
 others ; if she had only loved peace more, and 
 making mischief less, it would have been hap- 
 pier for them all.
 
 1 88 MILLICENT. 
 
 CHAPTEE YIII. 
 
 Buds were blowing, waters flowing, 
 Birds were singing on tlie tree ; 
 
 Everything was bright and glowing 
 When the angels came for thee. 
 
 Death had laid aside his terror, 
 And he found thee calm and mild, 
 
 Lying in thy robes of whiteness. 
 Like a pure and sinless child. 
 
 Brighter, fairer far than living. 
 
 With no trace of woe or pain. 
 Robed in everlasting beauty, 
 
 Shall I see thee once again.' 
 
 Aytoun. 
 
 The loved memory of his beautiful mother 
 was treasui'ed and worshipped by Lord For- 
 tescue; during her life, she had been the 
 centre of all his childish happiness — ^her smile
 
 MILLICENT. 189 
 
 was his sunshine, and her every sorrow was 
 shared by her noble boy. She was just the 
 being for a child to love; a simple, gentle 
 creature, with not a thought beyond her home 
 and its attractions. When fii'st she had 
 known Frank Hayward, she had given him 
 her full sweet love, trusting him implicitly, 
 and never doubting his affections were firmly 
 centred on her; when first he crossed and 
 slighted her, she scarcely understood him ; but 
 when at last the truth was revealed, and her 
 husband's real character, by degrees, unfolded 
 itself, and she was crushed, her cheerfulness 
 and animation ceased — she was calm, and 
 outwardly composed, though she never re- 
 covered the shock. Arthui-'s deep, childish 
 devotion supplied, in a measure, her husband's 
 neglect; but her son never once heard his 
 mother laugh — nor did he wonder, when his 
 only recollections of his father, were hurried 
 visits to the Chase, when his abusive language 
 and cruel treatment were always succeeded by 
 short, though severe, illnesses, on the part of
 
 190 MILLICENT. 
 
 Mrs. Hayward. The hours which other chil- 
 dren of his age spent in boisterous games and 
 mirth, were mostly passed by Arthur in his 
 mother's room — sometimes, seated on her bed, 
 he would hold her thin hand while she slept, 
 and, looking on her pale face, long for her to 
 awake and speak to him; and when, after 
 these illnesses, she at length recovered, it 
 was his delight to walk with her through 
 the shady woods that surrounded the Chase, 
 and listen to her sweet voice, while she taught 
 him many things about the flowers and bu^ds, 
 and then about the God in Heaven, who made 
 them. And when the long winter days set 
 in, they spent their time in study ; and after 
 the lessons were over, his mother sang to 
 him in the twilight the old English ballads, 
 for which he ever after retained so much 
 love. During Mrs. Hayward's last illness,. 
 Arthur was always with her ; he was accus- 
 tomed to see her ill, and never once thought of 
 her dying, though she often tried to bring his 
 mind to the possibility of her death.
 
 MILLICENT. 191 
 
 It was on a soft summer eve that Millicent 
 Hayward sat at the open window, propped up 
 with pillows, and Arthur, on a little stool, at 
 her feet ; she had been talking to him about 
 the stars and Heaven, and leading the child's 
 thoughts away from herself; but Arthur, who 
 had been reading a little book, called 'The 
 Guiding Star,' would call his mother his 
 * guiding star,' and talk about what he would 
 do, and how he would care for her, when he 
 was a man. After a time it grew dark, and 
 his mother not answering his questions, Arthur 
 fancied she slept, and, with his usual thought- 
 fulness — far beyond his years — he got up and 
 closed the window, that the evening air might 
 not blow on her face, and then he went back 
 to his cushion at her feet, and sat quietly 
 watching the stars, and continuing his little 
 plans for his ^ dear Mamma,' till sleep overtook 
 him ; and when Mrs. Blake, thinking her mis- 
 tress had sat up long enough, knocked softly 
 at the door, she received no answer, and 
 coming in, found Arthur sleeping calmly in the
 
 192 MILLICENT. 
 
 twilight, with his soft cheek resting against his 
 mother's lap, who, during her child's sleep, had 
 been carried by angels to Heaven. 
 
 The good old housekeeper never forgot that 
 affecting scene; and when persons wondered 
 that Arthur, at his age, was so shy and melan- 
 choly, Mrs. Blake grew vexed, and answered — 
 " Her only wonder was, how he ever got over 
 that night." 
 
 Lord Fortescue did get over it, but he never 
 forgot, how his ^ guiding star ' had shone 
 brightly, and then faded away, on that soft 
 summer's eve; and, when years after he 
 came back to Horton, and sat in the same 
 room, and watched the sunset, his heart 
 was sad indeed, for he felt then, how alone 
 he was in the world. All through his long 
 absence, he had treasured his mother's me- 
 mory; he carried a lock of her soft brown hair, 
 and her picture with him, from place to place. 
 And possessing these relics, he almost fancied 
 she was still near ; and being left to himself a 
 great deal, in his continental wanderings, and
 
 MILLICENT. 193 
 
 having no one but an eccentric tutor as a com- 
 panion, his mother, though dead, was still his 
 guiding star ; and when his uncle wondered, 
 and Lady Fortescue praised him, for being so 
 much steadier than youths of his own age and 
 rank, he used to answer — "It is not my doing, it 
 is my mother's influence ; " and when they called 
 him odd, and told him not to treasure up melan- 
 choly recollections, he used to wander alone, and 
 frequently weep, for he felt how entirely he was 
 without sympathy. His was a strange un- 
 settled life: his uncle disliked society, and was 
 fond of travelling about ; and though at last 
 he settled down at Ashburton, it was not till 
 Arthur was eighteen; and when he went to 
 Oxford among young men, he felt himself dif- 
 ferent jfrom all around, and, instead of shaking 
 off his shyness and melancholy, he shrank from 
 society, and got the name of "the recluse;" he 
 would have become misanthropic, and perhaps 
 eccentric, had not Mr. Seymour gone to visit 
 his young cousin, and, by his excellent advice 
 and influence, given him that assistance he so 
 VOL. I.
 
 194 MILLICENT. 
 
 much needed ; and though Lord Fortescue was 
 never gay and mirthful, like those around him, 
 yet, Everard Seymour's influence, kept up by 
 frequent correspondence, prevented him from 
 feeling himself uncared for, and induced him to 
 seek, instead of shunning, agreeable associa- 
 tion. But now the excitement of Oxford was 
 over, and all his near relations being dead, 
 Lord Fortescue, when he first returned to the 
 Chase, felt inclined to sit down in his old me- 
 lancholy apathy ; but Everard Seymour's con- 
 versation had given him a new view of life, 
 and he felt there was something to live for — 
 something to do — and Arthur felt, for the first 
 time, that he was of importance in his sphere, 
 and could be of use to his fellow-men ; and this 
 thought occupied him till his dinner with the 
 Robertsons. But, on Tuesday morning, why did 
 he sit so long over the breakfast-table, and leave 
 his coffee and rolls untouched? He was deeply 
 lost in thought, and his reveries were pleasant 
 too, though strange and mingled; and before his 
 view Millicent Thornvillewas ever present, in her
 
 MILLICENT. 195 
 
 dark dress, with that look and manner so pecu- 
 liarly familiar in the memory of his mother; — he 
 was charmed, and yet restless ; for he longed to 
 see her again, and gaze on her sweet face ; he 
 almost felt as if he must start at once for Sta- 
 plehurst. But Lord Fortescue kneAv this was 
 foolish ; Miss Thornville would not care to see 
 him ; besides, she was Mrs. Robertson's gover- 
 ness : this would raise a barrier against their 
 often meeting — not that he cared for her posi- 
 tion. She was an orphan, like himself; and, 
 oh ! she ivas so like the one whose memory he 
 held so precious. A strange delicious feeling 
 stole across his mind — could Millicent become 
 his living, his present guiding-star? He 
 determined, though she was separated from 
 him by the rules of society, that he would 
 know more of her; and then, if she were all he 
 
 thought she must be All! then he would 
 
 try to prove himself worthy of her! — And, with 
 these thoughts, Arthur started forth to look at 
 his church and the park wall; in short, to begin 
 his life of activity and usefulness. 
 
 o2
 
 196 MILLICENT. 
 
 All this time Mrs. Kobertson had been 
 thinking with delight of her charming visitor 
 and the agreeable way in which her dinner 
 party had gone off; Kate had really looked very 
 fascinating, and Lord Fortescue seemed so 
 engrossed with her at dinner and delighted 
 afterwards with her singing, and then that 
 little tHe a tete in the conservatory, it all showed 
 plainly that he liked and admired her ; and 
 poor silly Mrs. Robertson's head was quite 
 turned. 
 
 Clara, who had felt herself in the back 
 ground on the preceding evening was very 
 much mortified and like persons in similar 
 circumstances, disposed to be displeased with 
 every one, and when Mrs. Eobertson asked 
 her during their afternoon drive, if she had 
 not enjoyed the party, Clara answered in a 
 pettish tone, "Really Mamma, I don't see 
 there was anything so very delightful in it." 
 
 "Well, dear," said Mrs. Robertson, "I 
 fancied everything went off nicely, and Kate 
 played her part to perfection ; that black net
 
 MILLICENT. 197 
 
 dress with the pink bows is certainly very 
 becoming to her." 
 
 " I think she looks much better in her 
 blue silk," replied Clara, carelessly, ^'but 
 really, Mamma, I never saw anything like the 
 way Miss Thornville came out in her grand 
 crape dress, it was quite ridiculous, for my 
 part I did not see any use in her coming 
 down at all and playing such a prominent 
 part, just as if she was one of us, it looks 
 so bad!" 
 
 ^^I was obliged to let her come to please 
 Kate, she got in one of her odd moods again, 
 so I let her have her own way for peace 
 and quietness sake, I do not think much 
 harm is done, it is only for once in a way, 
 and I took care to tell Lord Fortescue, she is 
 our governess/' 
 
 "' That would not make much difference 
 when people take fancies," said Clara in a 
 meaning tone. 
 
 ^^ What do you mean, my dear ?" exclaimed 
 Mrs. Robertson.
 
 198 MILLICENT. 
 
 ^•1 mean what I say, Mamma," replied Clara, 
 " did not you see how dreadfully struck Lord 
 Fortescue was with Miss Thornville ; I never 
 saw such decided admiration." 
 
 " Nonsense, Clara," exclaimed Mrs. Eobert- 
 son; " I am sure Lord Fortescue took no notice 
 of her; as to admiring her playing that was 
 quite natural, as she certainly performs very 
 well, though rather too theatrically for my 
 taste." 
 
 '■' I did not mean her music. Mamma, every- 
 one applauded that, though I did not hear 
 anything so very marvellous ; I could play just 
 as well if I practised, but you should have 
 seen Lord Fortescue look at her when he 
 came in from the dining-room — ^he quite 
 stood still with admiration. I observe a good 
 deal." 
 
 " More than there is to see sometimes, 
 Clara," said Mrs. Eobertson, who was 
 thoroughly vexed ; "I noticed Lord Fortescue 
 when you did, and I saw nothing so wonder- 
 fiil ; he looked hard at Kate, and he stood still
 
 MILLICENT. 199 
 
 most likely from shyness, Kate says he is 
 diffident among strangers." 
 
 "He is very siUy, then," replied Clara ; 
 "but you may say what you like, Mamma, I 
 am confident he admu'es Miss Thornville ; and, 
 if you put her so forward, and allow Kate to 
 make so much of her, she will begin to flirt 
 with him, by and by." 
 
 " Clara, I really thought you were a more 
 sensible girl," said Mrs. Eobertson ; "you 
 surely cannot suppose a young man of his 
 lordship's rank would notice a governess. To 
 tell you the truth, I thought it very amiable 
 and agreeable of him to come so unceremo- 
 niously to us, and if he thought about Miss 
 Thornville at all, which, I dare say, he did 
 not, it was to contrast her with Kate." 
 
 " Very likely. Mamma," replied Clara, in a 
 satirical tone ; and then turned the conversa- 
 tion, not in the least altered, however, in her 
 opinion; and she determined to watch Lord 
 Fortescue and Millicent closely, whenever they 
 were together.
 
 200 MILLICENT. 
 
 Millicent passed the evening with Kate, 
 studying German. Kate learned surprisingly 
 quickly, and Millicent enjoyed teaching her ; it 
 was the happiest hour of the whole day, so 
 pleasantly employed in Kate's snug boudoir. 
 When the usual lesson was over, Kate shut up 
 her books, saying, ^' I am not going to read a 
 word more, I want to talk," — and, wheeling 
 her chair round, she put her feet on the fender, 
 and, throwing her head back, looked the pic- 
 ture of comfort. 
 
 " I wish you would repeat the articles once 
 more,'' said Millicent. 
 
 *' Oh, I shall have a nightmare of articles !" 
 exclaimed Kate, " if you persecute me any 
 more with those wretched little ' der^ die, 
 dasr'' 
 
 " You are terribly lazy,'' said Millicent. 
 
 *^And you a horiibly strict creature! Oh, 
 for goodness' sake, don't open the book again!" 
 — and Kate snatched away the grammar, and 
 put it in her pocket, then the two girls laughed 
 cheerfully ; it would have done Lord Fortescue
 
 MILLICENT. 201 
 
 good, in his solitude, to hear them. But 
 Kate's laughs were seldom, and did not last 
 long, and then she said, " I wish you had 
 laughed a Uttle so last night, you would have 
 charmed Lord Fortescue/' 
 
 " Oh, nonsense. Miss Robertson !" exclaimed 
 Millicent. 
 
 "Do, pray call me Katie — it sounds so 
 ridiculous for two girls like us to be per- 
 petually addressing each other as Miss." 
 
 " Willingly, Katie — you see how quickly I 
 have learned my lesson." 
 
 " Quicker, you think, than I did my poor 
 articles, to-night ; but, ^lillicent, do you re- 
 collect I said on Saturday, Lord Fortescue was 
 like you; well, he confirmed it last night by say- 
 ing how strikingly you resembled his mother." 
 
 "Did he?" exclaimed Millicent, — "how 
 very odd !" 
 
 " And he told me something stranger still — 
 he stayed at your house, when you were a 
 baby, and he had the pleasure of a bite from 
 your fiiend, the gi^een parrot."
 
 202 MILLICENT. 
 
 " My poor old Jacquot !" said Millicent, 
 sadly ; '^ but how came Lord Fortescue at 
 Heatberton ?" 
 
 " He does not appear to remember," replied 
 Kate ; " you must ask him yourself. He 
 really admires you." 
 
 ^' That is your fancy," said Millicent, blush- 
 ing. 
 
 " Not at all," replied Kate ; " I should not 
 say so if I did not think it. You know I de- 
 spise the nonsense, at least, the absurdities of 
 the kind that girls always talk. But he was 
 quite charmed with your playing." 
 
 " And your singing, dear Kate," said Mil- 
 licent, " it was so delightful — as good as a 
 concert." 
 
 " I thought we all performed our parts very 
 well. Lord Fortescue has a good ear for 
 music, and keeps such correct time. A man's 
 voice is a great addition." 
 
 *^ And a great assistance," said Millicent ; 
 
 ^' it brings out the other voices so nicely. 
 
 Can that be the clock striking ^ten ?"
 
 MILLICENT. 203 
 
 " Impossible !" said Katie, — '' how quickly 
 the time has passed — that is your agreeable 
 society, Millicent ; but I must say good-night, 
 now, the good people down stairs will be 
 jealous. Pray, stay here as long as you like." 
 
 When Kate came into the drawing-room, 
 she found Tom had returned. ^' Well, Kate," 
 he called out, "aren't you glad to see me 
 back again. I've had a precious snowy 
 drive?'' 
 
 "I suppose so," said Kate; "what have 
 you been doing with yourself at Stocklee ?" 
 
 " Oh, all the world is fiill of the annual 
 ball, it is to be something extra splendid this 
 year ; they are going to have the band of the 
 31st over from Gloucester, and lots of the 
 officers are coming, and I don't know how 
 many of the Oxford fellows are invited ; there 
 will be first-rate dancing — don't you feel ex- 
 cited, gh-ls ?" 
 
 " Of course you will go, Mamma ?" said 
 Clara. 
 
 " Yes, certainly, my dear," replied Mrs.
 
 204 MILLICENT. 
 
 Eobertson ; " your Papa has been a subscriber 
 for so many years, it is only right for us to 
 patronise it." 
 
 " The fact is, mother likes to show off her 
 girls," said Tom, with a mischievous look at 
 Kate. ^^ My stars ! won't we make a sensa- 
 tion — pink gowns and white roses ! we shall 
 hear of nothing else for the next fortnight to 
 come." 
 
 " What day is the ball to come off?" asked 
 Clara. 
 
 " On the third of March," said Tom ; '' next 
 Thursday fortnight ; don't be afraid, there is 
 plenty of time for preparations." 
 
 '^ It does not take a fortnight, or anything 
 like it, to make a dress, Tom ; you gentlemen 
 know nothing about ladies' dresses," replied 
 Clara. 
 
 " Oh, don't we though ? I am sure father 
 does, when he pays the bills for your finery." 
 
 "You need not talk, Tom, about extrava- 
 gance," said Clara; "you confessed to at least 
 a dozen coats the last half year."
 
 MILLICEXT. 205 
 
 " You are mighty wise," replied Tom ; •' and 
 if I had twelve coats, you had twenty 'bonnets 
 — let's see, I can count them all up ; there 
 was that blue thing, with little bits of stuff 
 all dangling from it, and a pink velvet, with 
 lots of shining little balls, and — " 
 
 " Oh, don't be so absurd, Tom," interrupted 
 Kate ; ^' are there many subscribers to the 
 ball this winter ?" 
 
 " Ah, Miss Kate," said Tom, ^^ I know 
 which way the wind blows ; you want to hear 
 if my lord has put his noble name to our 
 plebeian list — now don't get red, it is very 
 harmless — only like a girl." 
 
 '^ I am sure I do not care at all if Lord 
 Fortescue goes or not," replied Kate, proudly ; 
 " I assure you I was not thinking of him." 
 
 " Well, there, don't be cross," said the un- 
 daunted Tom ; " the young man has put down 
 his name and title, and all the rest of it, and 
 taken twenty tickets into the bargain, which 
 the stewards look upon as a great proof of his 
 nobility."
 
 206 MILLICENT. 
 
 " Then of course he will be there, '^ ex- 
 claimed- Mrs. Robertson, in delight. 
 
 '' Why, what has he bought tlie tickets for, 
 if he is not going ?" said Clara. 
 
 " He can't use twenty himself, Miss Wise- 
 acre," replied Tom. 
 
 " I know that, as well as you do ; but, 
 perhaps he will make a party of friends." 
 
 " Perhaps he will, and open the ball with 
 Miss Clara Robertson ; take care you study 
 the becoming in dress, and mind your 
 steps." 
 
 ^' I wish you would not teaze me so," ex- 
 claimed Clara. 
 
 " I Avas only giving you wholesome advice," 
 replied Tom. " I say, mother !" he suddenly 
 exclaimed, "what have you done with your 
 pretty governess ?" 
 
 ^^ Never mind about Miss Thornville," she 
 replied hastily ; " but don't you think we may 
 make a nice party, and get some of our friends 
 to join us on the third ?" 
 
 " I think the Conways and the Pearsons
 
 MILLICENT. 207 
 
 would be very glad, I shall give them some 
 tickets/' said Mr. Robertson. 
 
 "Pray, papa, don't let the Pearsons be of 
 our party," exclaimed Kate ; " we shall be 
 much better alone." 
 
 " Kate has never forgiven Bill Pearson his 
 presumption at the pic-nic, last summer," said 
 Tom. 
 
 Kate's face gi-ew crimson, and she was 
 going to say something very severe, when 
 Mrs. Robertson mterposed. "I am sure, 
 John, we do not want the Pearsons ; I do not 
 wish to prevent you giving them tickets, but 
 we might find it awkward to have them of 
 oui' party." 
 
 " Very well, my dear," replied Mr. Robert- 
 son, quietly. 
 
 " ^lother is afraid they will clash with my 
 lord," said Tom ; '^ but we shall be a good 
 party of ourselves ; let's see — there is the 
 governor and yourself, the two girls and your 
 humble servant — oh, and your governess, of 
 coui'se ! you will take her ; that pretty face
 
 208 MILLICENT. 
 
 of hers will be quite an ornament to the ball 
 — ^we shall have all the Stocklee fellows fight- 
 ing which shall dance with her." 
 
 " How ridiculous, Tom ! I shall not think 
 of taking Miss Thornville ; it would be quite 
 out of place," replied Mrs. Robertson, angrily. 
 
 " Of course not," said Clara ; " I cannot 
 imagine how you can think of such a thing, 
 Tom ! " 
 
 " Oh, take the poor girl. Mamma ; it will 
 be so tantalizing for her to remain at home," 
 pleaded good-tempered Mr. Robertson ; " I am 
 sure she is very nice-looking — a girl that no 
 one need be ashamed of" 
 
 " I should think not," said Tom, rubbing 
 his hands ; "I shouldn't be ashamed of going 
 into the Queen's ball with her on my 
 arm." 
 
 " I will not be interfered with," exclaimed 
 Mrs. Robertson, indignantly ; " it is really 
 very strange I may not do as I like with my 
 own governesses, without perpetually being 
 tormented."
 
 MILLICENT. 209 
 
 " I think it is she who is tormented," said 
 Kate, in an undertone. 
 
 " Who teases Miss Thomville ?" said Clara, 
 who always heard everything. 
 
 " I did not say any one teased her," replied 
 Kate ; " but it is sufficient for an unfortunate 
 girl to be a governess, and she becomes at 
 once the subject of unkindness and neglect." 
 
 ^^ It is the first time I have been accused of 
 unkindness to my governesses ; I am sure 
 they are made more of here than at most 
 places — but there is a difference between kind- 
 ness and taking them out of their station," 
 said Mrs. Eobertson. 
 
 " A lady," observed Kate, " retains her 
 position as a lady, in whatever circumstances 
 she is placed, and, as such, is on a perfect 
 equality with her employers." 
 
 " Bravo ! Kate," exclaimed Tom ; " you 
 and I think alike ; mother will come over to 
 our way of thinking too, and we shall see 
 Miss Thornville figuring away as well as the 
 rest of us, on the remarkable third of March." 
 YOL. I. p
 
 210 MILLICENT. 
 
 " I am quite sick of hearing about Miss 
 Thornville, Tom," said his mother ; '^ it only 
 leads to quarrelling." 
 
 " Nonsense, mother," exclaimed Tom ; ^*no 
 one wants to quarrel ; but it does seem rather 
 a shame to coop one girl up alone at home, 
 when the others are flirting away at the ball. 
 I have half a mind, if she does not go, to stay 
 here myself — we can have a private polka to 
 ourselves ; you cannot think what a lot of 
 sweet things I can say when I try." 
 
 " Clara, do light the candles," said Mrs. 
 Robertson ; " I am tired of this stuff." 
 
 "No, m light them," said Tom; "you 
 may depend, mother, I shall dream all night 
 of dancing with pretty girls in black crape 
 gowns." 
 
 Mr. Robertson laughed, but his mother went 
 to bed quite angry, with her mind full of the 
 ball and Lord Fortescue, who, she concluded, 
 would of course be there, and dance a great 
 deal with Kate — it would be, indeed, delight- 
 ful, she thought, if he made a party, and had
 
 MILLICENT, 211 
 
 his aristocratic friends from London ; how her 
 girls would shine, and what attention Katie 
 would get ! and in these and similar reflec- 
 tions, Mrs. Robertson forgot the vexations 
 Tom and Kate's frequent allusions had 
 caused. 
 
 At breakfast the next morning, Tom began 
 directly about the ball, to the great annoyance 
 of Kate, who did not wish anything to be said 
 on the subject before Millicent, till she had 
 talked her mother into consenting that Miss 
 Thomville should accompany them ; but Tom 
 was in particularly high spirits, and would not 
 understand Kate's signs and nods of admo- 
 nition. 
 
 " I say. Miss Thomville," he began, " are 
 you fond of dancing ? " 
 
 "I used to be," replied Millicent, sadly, 
 "but it is a long time now since I have 
 danced." 
 
 " I should hope Miss Thomville was too sen- 
 sible to care for such things," Mrs. Robertson 
 observed. 
 
 p 2
 
 212 MILLICENT. 
 
 " What things, mother?" asked Tom, drily, 
 
 " You know what Manuna means, Tom," said 
 Clara. 
 
 "I am not at all clear about mother's Hhings' 
 that Miss Thornville's good sense is to keep 
 her from." 
 
 " How foolish you are, Tom ; you were 
 speaking of dancing, and it was to that 
 Mamma alluded." 
 
 "Ho!" said Tom; "Miss Thomville, my 
 mother thinks you are the only sensible young 
 lady in the parish ; you see what a high cha- 
 racter you hold ! " 
 
 Millicent coloured uncomfortably, and Kate 
 tried to turn the conversation ; but Tom was 
 not to be daunted, and he went on — " Sisters, 
 you have heard what has been said, and know 
 your character: you are empty-minded crea- 
 tures." 
 
 "Tom," said Mrs. Robertson, "how can 
 you?" 
 
 "Mother," rejoined Tom, with the most 
 comic gravity, " you are a woman of taste."
 
 MILLICENT. 213 
 
 " Tom, be silent ; I think you are out of 
 your mind," exclaimed Mrs. Robertson. 
 
 ^^Then somebody else must have hopped 
 into it, for it is my mind that is giving vent to 
 its opinion now, in pronouncing you a woman 
 of taste, and, as such, you wiU, of course, send 
 negatives to the stewards of the Stocklee balls, 
 instead of your two lovely and accomplished 
 daughters." 
 
 " Come, Tom, that is enough of this," said 
 his father, who saw Mrs. Robertson was very 
 angry. 
 
 " I say, Father," persisted Tom, " you and 1 
 will have to go in bachelor state, though I ex- 
 pect to get plenty of frowns from the gentle- 
 men who think daughters and sisters are of no 
 use except to dance with." 
 
 " Tom," said Clara, who was very literal, 
 " you know quite weU we are going to Stock- 
 lee. I would not miss the ball for anything." 
 
 ^' Don't mind Tom's nonsense, Clara," said 
 Mrs. Robertson, — "Come, Augustus, finish your 
 breakfast; IVIiss Thornvilleis waiting for you."
 
 214 MILLICENT. 
 
 Millicent knew well enough that meant she 
 was to go into the school-room ; and, calling 
 Fanny, she left the room in anything but a 
 pleasant frame of mind. Tom was quietly 
 ensconced in the library, reading ^Vanity 
 Fair,' when Kate came in with a work-box in 
 her hand, and sat down near the window. 
 Tom went on with his book for a little while, 
 then, starting up, he exclaimed — *^ Katie, 
 what are you doing out there ?" 
 
 ^' I am mending my gloves," she replied. 
 
 ^^ What is the good of sitting by the win- 
 dow ; there's lots of room by the fire ; you 
 can have my arm-chair, if you Uke." 
 
 Kate got up, took his ofiered seat, and went 
 on with her work. 
 
 "I say, Kate, can't you talk?" said Tom; 
 " I feel so dreadfully stupid this morning, I 
 don't know what to do with myself. Staple- 
 ^ hurst is a dreadfully slow place." 
 
 " I thought you were going wild-duck shoot- 
 ing with the Pearsons ? " 
 
 ^' That's to-morrow," replied Tom. ^' I want
 
 MILLICEXT. 215 
 
 some steady in-doors amusement to-daj ; what 
 do you say to a flirtation with Miss ThornvUle, 
 for instance, eh, Katie ? " 
 
 **Tom, you cannot think how you annoy 
 me when you talk so,'' said Kate, angrily ; 
 ^^ reaUy, this morning, at breakfast, you made 
 me thoroughly ashamed of you." 
 
 " How ?" exclaimed Tom, in surprise. 
 
 " It was thoughtless, to say the least of it, 
 to talk about the ball in the way you did be- 
 fore Miss ThomTiUe, it appeared exactly as 
 if you were ridiculing her." 
 
 " Ton my word, I never meant to make fun 
 of her," he exclaimed in a tone of concern. ^' I 
 did it more to tease mother than anything else." 
 
 '^ I knew that, but she did not, and when I 
 went into the school-room, and found her alone, 
 she had been crying." 
 
 "You don't say so !" exclauned Tom, '' I'll 
 go and explain to her at once, and tell her I 
 did not mean it." 
 
 Kate could not help smiling, and she re- 
 phed " No, Tom, you will only make it worse,
 
 216 MILLICENT. 
 
 I told her you did not intend anytliing rude, 
 but you cannot think it is very agreeable for 
 me to have to make excuses for your folly ; 
 it is always the way here, people make mis- 
 chief and disagreeables, and leave me to apolo- 
 gise and explain." 
 
 "There, Kate, don't be cross now," said 
 Tom, "but I always thought governesses liked 
 to be joked with." 
 
 " You know better than that, and even if 
 others did, you must see that Miss Thomville 
 is much too quiet and ladyUke to enter into or 
 even understand your nonsense, and really 
 Tom, now we are speakmg on the subject, I 
 wish you would give up entirely that habit of 
 flirting with every governess that comes into 
 the house, I assure you, instead of being an 
 honour to them it is an insult; remember 
 Miss Thornville is an orphan, and I consider 
 her especially under my protection, and I must 
 insist that you will not annoy her with anything 
 of the kind ; I know you would not wish to 
 displease me."
 
 MILLICENT. 217 
 
 "Displease you? I'd rather do anything 
 than that, though I must own it is rather fun 
 to call forth your wrath a little bit, Katie, you 
 do look so fiery." 
 
 " Oh, tease me as much as you like Tom — " 
 
 " Only let the governesses alone, eh Katie ? 
 but 'pon my word, I did it to make up for 
 mother's ill temper to them," 
 
 " No, Tom, you did it for your own amuse- 
 ment," replied Kate, " and instead of making 
 Mamma kinder, it only irritates her ; we shall 
 never keep any governesses, if you continue to 
 act in such a foolish manner, and I am sure 
 Miss Thomville will not endure anything of 
 the kind." 
 
 " Oh then," said Tom, " I am to be a kind 
 of dragon to the governesses, only the worst 
 of it is I don't know how to be savage." 
 
 " That is nonsense, Tom," said Kate laugh- 
 ing; "all I want you to do, is to treat them 
 with respect and proper politeness. You al- 
 ways behave well enough with Maria Conway." 
 
 " I should like to see a fellow fluting with
 
 218 MILLICENT. 
 
 her/' exclaimed Tom ; " she and Miss Thom- 
 ville don't do to mention in the same breath." 
 
 " Maria would not be very pleased if she 
 heard you/' replied Kate; "but Tom, \vill you 
 do as I ask you, if it it not out of proper feel- 
 ing to Miss Thornville, at least as a favour to 
 me." 
 
 " Oh, I'll do it to please both, there are not 
 two prettier girls in the county ; you will see 
 how civil I'll be, you don't know what a 
 fascinating fellow I can be ; when I am in my 
 best behaviour, I can rival my Lord himself : 
 but by Jove, there is my lord, and mother 
 and Clara are out — won't they be heart- 
 broken."
 
 MILLICENT. 219 
 
 CHAPTER XL 
 
 ' One only passion, unrevealed, 
 
 With maiden pride the maid concealed, 
 Yet not less purely felt the flame ; — 
 Oh 1 need I tell that passion's name ? ' 
 
 Lady of the Lake. 
 
 Mrs. Eobertson was very disappointed to find 
 Lord Fortescue had called during her absence ; 
 and still more so that he was going to be 
 absent a fortnight in Yorkshire ; but as the 
 day fixed fi)r his return was the second of 
 March, she set her mind quite at rest about 
 the ball, and was of Tom's opinion, that Lord 
 Fortescue would bring back a party of fiiends 
 to join them at Stocklee. Kate felt convinced,
 
 220 MILLICENT. 
 
 however, that he would not be there, and 
 made her mamma angry by insisting that it 
 would be bad taste even to mention the ball 
 to him, after the recent death in his family ; 
 but Mrs. Robertson was obstinate in her 
 opinion — she wished it, and, what she wished, 
 she always concluded must take place. The 
 greatest subject of contention, however, arose 
 from Kate insisting Millicent should accom- 
 pany them to the ball ; but, after a long dis- 
 pute, in which Mrs. Robertson was decided, 
 and her daughter out of temper, Kate had to 
 give up the point — vexed with her mother for 
 her increased unkindness to her governess, and 
 annoyed with herself that the more she tried 
 to control her temper, and act up to her half- 
 formed resolves, and follow Mr. Seymour's 
 advice, the more she seemed to fail. 
 
 The fortnight before the ball was a very dis- 
 agreeable one to Millicent. Mrs. Robertson 
 had been extremely unjust and exacting, and 
 Clara's cold, impertinent manner was almost 
 unbearable; and, though Millicent did not
 
 MILLICENT. 221 
 
 wish to join their party on the third, stUl the 
 cool way in which everything was discussed 
 before her, without any reference to her feel- 
 ings, tried her very much. Kate was still as 
 kind as ever, and thoroughly disgusted with 
 the perfect absence of good taste and feeling 
 Mrs. Eobertson and Clara evinced. 
 
 It was the morning of the ball ; and Kate, 
 quite wearied with the discussions on tulle and 
 tarletane and becoming head-dresses, set out 
 for a walk to the Kectory : just at the en- 
 trance of the park, she met Mr. Seymour 
 coming out of one of the lodges ; she hastened 
 on and overtook him. 
 
 "I did not expect to see you out, Miss 
 Robertson. I thought you would be busy 
 with preparations for this evening," he 
 said. 
 
 "Oh, I have nothing to arrange," she re- 
 pUed ; "I sent for my dress from London last 
 week, and I have not troubled my head any 
 more ^bout it — are you going anywhere par- 
 ticular, because I thought you would let me
 
 222 MILLICENT. 
 
 walk with you ; I was on my way to Mrs. 
 Seymour." 
 
 " Oh, certainly, with pleasure ; I am only 
 going round to put these letters in the post, 
 and then I shall return home to dinner ; per- 
 haps you will make it your lunch." 
 
 " I thank you, no — I am afraid I cannot — 
 they will expect me at home ; but, Mr. Sey- 
 mour, I have a favour to ask of you," said 
 Kate, colouring. 
 
 '' I need not repeat what I have often said 
 before, Miss Eobertson — ^how tiiily happy I 
 shall be to do anything in my power for you." 
 
 " I know how kind you are," said Kate ; 
 
 " but it is not for myself — I wanted to ask if 
 
 you and Mrs. Seymour would not mind invit- 
 
 ng Miss Thornville to spend this evening at 
 
 the Eectory." 
 
 " We shall be delighted to see her," replied 
 Mr. Seymour ; " indeed, my mother was ex- 
 pecting you would bring Miss Thornville for 
 some promised visit." 
 
 " I had intended and wished it," said Kate,
 
 MILLICENT. 223 
 
 *^ but I have found no opportunity, Millicent 
 has been so engaged with the children, and I, 
 Mr. Seymour, I have not done one single 
 thing I desired, and since this ball has been 
 on the tapis, everything has gone wrong, and 
 I believe it is half my fault — I shall never be 
 what you wish me." 
 
 " Let us hope you describe yourself worse 
 than you are," he replied kindly. 
 
 " I wish I did," said Kate, sighing, " but 
 really I am so glad you will allow ]\Iillicent to 
 join you to-night, she ought to be going to the 
 ball with us, but Mamma decidedly forbids it ; 
 Millicent bore it very well, and said she did 
 not care to go, but of course it is very tanta- 
 lizing for her, and she would have passed a 
 solitary evening, as the children are going to 
 take tea at Westworth, with some little cou- 
 sins of the Conways, and I really think if you 
 could not have compassionated her, I should 
 have remained at home myself" 
 
 There was a dissatisfied, almost distressed 
 expression on Kate's countenance, as she said
 
 224 MILLICENT. 
 
 this, which did not pass unnoticed by the ob- 
 servant eye of Mr. Seymour, and when he had 
 posted his letters and spoken a few kind words 
 to an old woman, who was bending beneath 
 the weight of a bundle of wood, he said to 
 Kate, as they went on, ^^Miss Robertson, I 
 have got a little plan to propose to you." 
 
 " Oh what is it ?'' asked Kate, ^^not another 
 Sunday school-class?" 
 
 " No," replied Mr. Seymour smiling, ^' I 
 am not going to make a teacher but a curate 
 of you : I have akeady enlisted Lord Fortescue 
 in my service, and now I want you to take two 
 cottages at the other end of the parish, don't 
 look alarmed — ^it is only to visit a blind girl in 
 one, and in the other you will feel at home — 
 your old farming man, old Crockton, lives 
 there." 
 
 " I have no vocation for visiting the poor," 
 said Kate, " I wish it had been something else, 
 Mr. Seymour." 
 
 " I have no other post vacant ; try it for a 
 month," he replied, playfully, "then if you
 
 MIIXICENT. 226 
 
 do not like it, come and tell me, and I will 
 try and find something else for you." 
 
 " Oh no, if I undertake it at all, I will con- 
 tinue it, I am afraid you have a bad opinion of 
 me and think me changeable — you are giving 
 me this to try me ;" and Kate looked sadly to- 
 wards him. 
 
 " Miss Robertson, you are mistaken," Mr. 
 Seymour replied. '' I assure you it is from no 
 wish to try you, but for your happiness that I 
 planned this little work. I have noticed lately 
 a dissatisfied feeling arising, I am sure, fi:'om 
 the want of stated occupation and I thought by 
 givmg you something to draw out and interest 
 your kind heart, you might become more 
 cheerful, and, may I say it, more patient — but 
 as to changeableness, God forbid," he added, 
 warmly, "• that I should ever impute that fault 
 to you — no, you may want perseverance, but 
 I never yet doubted your sincerity !'* 
 
 The colour mounted to Kate's cheek, and 
 her heart beat as she replied hurriedly, "you 
 must forgive me^ Mr. Seymour, if I spoke 
 
 VOL. I. Q
 
 226 MILLICENT, 
 
 hastily, but no one can have a worse opinion 
 of me than I have of myself" 
 
 *' If you think so little of yourself, it is time 
 you were encouraged,'^ he said cheerfully; 
 " will you think over my proposal ?" 
 
 " Oh no," replied Kate, quickly, *' I will 
 undertake it at once, and to-morrow I shall go 
 to old Crockton and the blind girl — I should 
 like to be of some little help to you." 
 
 "You had better not go to-morrow," he 
 replied ; " you will be thoroughly tired from 
 to-night's pleasure." 
 
 " I do not expect much pleasure," said Kate; 
 " I generally like the prospect of a ball, but 
 there has been such disputing and opposition 
 about this, that I would almost rather remain 
 at home." 
 
 " Oh you must not do that," said Mr. Sey- 
 mour, smiling; "it would not do to disappoint 
 Mrs. Robertson ; you will, I am sure be as 
 cheerful and agreeable as possible." 
 
 " I thought you did not like balls," said 
 Katie.
 
 MILLICENT. 227 
 
 " You are right," he replied ; " but though 
 I object to them, and believe that persons are 
 happiest away, still I think it is the duty of 
 those who go to make themselves pleasant to 
 others." 
 
 " Then your idea of doing everything well 
 applies to my poor ball," said Kate. 
 
 ^^ Most certainly ; for if you did not go with 
 the intention of doing your utmost to make 
 yourself agreeable, you should relinquish your 
 place to some one who had that object in 
 view." 
 
 " Mr. Seymour," exclaimed Kate, " you do 
 not understand balls ; I wish people were half 
 as good as you imagine ; but I assure you they 
 go for themselves, and do not care to make it 
 agreeable to others ; on the contrary, they fre- 
 quently make mischief and cause jealousy." 
 
 "Then I am sure you ought not to be 
 there," he replied, quietly, " for you can take 
 no part in such sin." 
 
 " Sin ! oh, Mr. Seymour, there is nothing 
 sinful in a ball; mischief and jealousy are 
 
 Q 2
 
 228 MILLICENT. 
 
 caused everywhere ; most of the people are 
 very amiable, though I really think I am get- 
 ing rather tired of dancing, and prefer a din- 
 ner-party to a ball/* 
 
 Mr. Seymour did not make any answer, and 
 Kate fancied he looked sad ; but their conver- 
 sation ceased, as they had arrived at the Rec- 
 tory. Katie did not stay there long ; she played 
 a little with Mary ; received a warm invitation 
 for Miss Thornville from Mrs. Seymour ; and 
 then hurried home across the park. 
 
 " Do you know if Lord Fortescue has come 
 back, Katie ? " said Mrs. Robertson, when they 
 were at luncheon. 
 
 " No, Mamma ;" replied Kate in sur- 
 prise. 
 
 ^^ Oh, I only thought you might have heard 
 from the Seymours. I suppose you have been 
 there?" 
 
 " Yes, I have. Mamma ; and Miss Thorn- 
 ville," continued Kate, turning to Millicent, 
 " Mrs. Seymour wants you to go and spend the 
 evening with her. She says you had better
 
 MILLICENT. 229 
 
 walk over before it gets dark, and Mr. Sey- 
 mour will see you home." 
 
 " How very kind !" replied Millicent in a 
 pleased tone ; "it will be, indeed, a pleasure, 
 Mrs. Robertson. I should like very much to 
 go — I suppose they will expect me." 
 
 " Of course]" said Kate, ^' I promised that 
 you should be there early; so you must not 
 make me break my word." 
 
 'Mis. Eobertson looked as if she did not at 
 all like Kate and the Seymours disposing of 
 Millicent^s evening without first consulting her ; 
 but she could not find any objections to raise ; 
 and about five o'clock that afternoon Millicent 
 started, looking very pleased with the prospect 
 of a quiet evening at the rectory ; and three 
 hours later, the Robertsons left Staplehurst for 
 the baU. 
 
 All Stocklee was up — not in arms but 
 in excitement on the festive third ; and the 
 illumined windows of the old-fashioned Town 
 Hall, sent animation and expectation into the 
 hearts of the damsels, in costumes of many
 
 230 MILLICENT. 
 
 colours, and their beaux, who flocked up the 
 wide oak stairs to the ball-room, where the 
 band of the 31st was playing the ^E,ow 
 Polka.' About an hour after the dancing 
 began, Mrs. Robertson — who always arrived 
 late to create a sensation — sailed into the 
 room, leaning on her husband's arm, and look- 
 ing very splendid in claret velvet and pearls, 
 followed by the Misses Robertson and Tom. 
 
 " By Jove, that is a beautiful girl," said an 
 officer, who was leaning against a column, to a 
 gentleman by his side. 
 
 " You might look further and not find her 
 equal," was the reply ; ^' she is the daughter 
 of Robertson, of Staplehurst Park, and as 
 proud a creature as ever breathed." 
 
 ^' It's to be hoped she has not bestowed 
 her affections on that young joskin by her 
 side." 
 
 '^ That is her brother, my dear fellow, and 
 the pale girl in pink is her younger sister." 
 
 " A dreadful fright," ejaculated the major ; 
 " but I will get introduced to Miss Robertson
 
 MILLICENT. 231 
 
 before long ; she is a magnificent creature ; and 
 how splendidly she is dressed ! there is not an- 
 other girl in the room at all her equal." 
 
 Major Sherwell might well say so ; for as 
 Kate moved down the room with a dignified 
 air of perfect unconcern, as if the persons as- 
 sembled were a matter of entire indifierence to 
 her, she certainly did look very grand in her 
 white lace and satin, with long di'ooping 
 flowers hanging on her shoulders. Directly 
 Mrs. Kobertson was seated at the top of the 
 room, she glanced round to discover Lord 
 Fortescue ; but after a long and vain search, 
 during which time Katie had been introduced 
 to Major Sherwell, and led off to join the 
 dance, she contented herself with the supposi- 
 tion he would be very late, as all grandees 
 usually are. 
 
 "John," Mrs. Robertson said, in a low 
 voice, " I wish you would just ask one of the 
 stewards if Lord Fortescue is expected." 
 
 " I don't see what good it will do, my 
 dear," replied her husband ; "if his lordship
 
 232 MILLICENT. 
 
 is coming, asking won't hurry him ; and, it lie 
 is not, why all the questions in the world 
 would not bring him here, I suppose." 
 
 '^ Oh, nonsense, John — don't be so absurd,'' 
 said Mrs. Kobertson, angrily. " I want to 
 know — there's Mr. Simmonds by the door, he 
 will tell you in a minute." 
 
 Poor Mr. Eobertson, who was the model of 
 an obedient husband, appealed to the gentle- 
 man with a wand, who said he did not know, 
 but the master of the ceremonies did ; and 
 Mr. Kobertson stood full ten minutes by a 
 draughty door, till Mr. Simmonds had elbowed 
 his way through the crowd and obtained the 
 required information for Mr. Eobertson, who 
 was looked upon as somebody in the little com- 
 mercial town. Mrs. Eobertson felt quite elated 
 when her husband brought back the pleasing 
 intelligence that ^ my lord ' had taken tickets 
 for a party, and she settled down her velvet 
 and her feelings, resuming her strict watching 
 of the door, and expecting each fresh arrival 
 to be nothing short of a phalanx of youthful
 
 MILLICENT. 233 
 
 aristocracy; and Mrs. Kobertson was almost 
 vexed to see Katie quietly moving through a 
 quadrille, with a young Oxford man in spec- 
 tacles. Kate did not enjoy the dancing at all, 
 not tiiat she was disappointed that Lord For- 
 tescue had not arrived, for she had never 
 expected him, but Mr. Seymour's conversation 
 of the morning was constantly recurring to 
 her mind, and his wish that she should be 
 agreeable and amiable was just then particu- 
 larly difficult to Kate ; for some of her part- 
 ners were stupid, and some forward, and it 
 was not in her nature to be otherwise than 
 cold and reserved to strangers, especially at a 
 mixed ball; and when she returned to the sofa 
 by her mother, after the quadrille was over, 
 she heartily wished herself quietly ensconced 
 by the Eectory fire with Millicent. 
 
 "It is very odd Lord Fortescue does not 
 come," said Mrs. Kobertson, uneasily ; "it 
 only wants a quarter to twelve." 
 
 " I had hoped it was later," replied Kate, 
 who was following Tom's dancing, when Major
 
 234 MILLTCENT. 
 
 Sherwell pushed his way impetuously through 
 the. dancers, — " Allow me, Miss Robertson, to 
 have the happiness of a galop ?" 
 
 " I never dance it,'' said Kate, proudly. 
 
 '* Oh, you cannot intend to be so cruel!" 
 he said, in an impassioned tone. ^'Mrs. Robert- 
 son, do expostulate with your daughter." 
 
 " Mamma knows it is hopeless," replied 
 Kate, coldly. " Major Sherwell, allow me to 
 introduce you to my sister." 
 
 The poor Major looked what Tom would 
 have called ' done,' but Clara was too de- 
 lighted at dancing with six feet of uniform, to 
 notice the difference of his manner to herself 
 and Kate. 
 
 " How nice Clara looks with the Major !" 
 said Mrs. Robertson, with a mother s pride. 
 
 " Clara dances very well — she is so light," 
 replied Kate; " but, Mamma, who is Tom danc- 
 ing with? What an extraordinary person !" 
 
 " My dear Kate, who can she be ? — such a 
 very vulgar girl, and Tom seems so fascinated 
 with her, too ! Oh, here comes Lord Fortescue
 
 MILLICENT. 235 
 
 — no, it is not," — and Mrs. Eobertson gave 
 her undivided attention to the door, till the 
 galop ceased, and Tom, having taken his part- 
 ner back to her seat, came round to the sofa. 
 
 *' Tom," said Mrs. Eobertson, ^' it is very- 
 late; I am so surprised Lord Fortescue's party- 
 does not come." 
 
 "Why, they are here already," replied Tom; 
 " that is one of them I have been dancing 
 with." 
 
 " Who ! when ! " exclaimed Mrs. Robertson, 
 in an excited tone ; " and where is Lord For- 
 tescue ? " 
 
 *" He is not here," replied Tom. " One 
 would think, to hear you talk, that you are in 
 love with my lord yourself." 
 
 "Tush, child!" exclaimed Mrs. Robertson; 
 "but why is he not here? — what has pre- 
 vented his coming ? " 
 
 " He never meant to come, mother, that I 
 know of," replied Tom ; "he gave aU his 
 tickets away before he went to Ashburton." 
 
 " Why did you not tell me that before ? "
 
 236 MILLICENT. 
 
 said Mrs. Robertson. " But how did you get 
 introduced to his friends ? " 
 
 "Introduced myself," Tom answered, with 
 a mischievous smile. 
 
 "Did you really, Tom?" asked Mrs. Robert- 
 son; "and were they agreeable? Do show me 
 which they are? Is Lady Anne Manvers here ?" 
 
 " Pray do not talk so loud, Mamma — ^people 
 will hear you," said Kate ; but at that mo- 
 ment the not-to-be-daunted Major claimed her 
 for a schottische. 
 
 " Why bless me, Miss Katie has touched the 
 Major's heart," said Tom ; " well, he couldn^t 
 dance with a better girl." 
 
 " Never mind about that, do tell me who 
 Lord Fortescue's party are?" replied Mrs. 
 Eobertson. 
 
 "One or two of the farmers' families, at Hor- 
 ton; the young lady I had the honour of the last 
 galop with, is his housekeeper's niece ; and the 
 rest are strangers. Now, mother, which shall I 
 introduce first to your notice and patronage ?" 
 asked Tom, with a provoking smile.
 
 MILLICENT. 237 
 
 " This is really too bad," said Mrs. Robert- 
 son, ready to cry with vexation. 
 
 " I told you he did not care for Kate, Mam- 
 ma," said Clara, in an exulting tone. 
 
 ^^ There, have done with match making, and 
 let my lord alone ; come and dance with your 
 brother, Clara, you couldn't have anybody 
 better," said Tom ; but, just then Mrs. Robert- 
 son chose to think the girls could have had 
 somebody better; to have all her bright plans 
 of lords and ladies, who were to attach them- 
 selves by some means to her party, crushed, 
 was too provoking, and she was so angry with 
 Lord Fortescue for what she chose to tliink his 
 neglect, that she determined to assume a dig- 
 nified coldness, next time they met. 
 
 And while Mrs. Robertson was thus worrying 
 herself at the ball, Millicent was quietly amused 
 at the Rectory. She had arrived there a little 
 later than she intended, owing to some delay 
 with the children, so that it was nearly dusk 
 when she went in. Mrs. Seymour was engaged 
 with some poor person in the library, but little
 
 238 MILLICENT. 
 
 Mary came running with delight to meet her 
 and took her up stairs to take off her things ; 
 as Millicent was coming down again she heard 
 music in the drawing-room, and when she 
 opened the door, she saw Lord Fortescue 
 sitting at the piano, playing a plaintive old 
 Scotch air ; but as they came in, Mary called 
 out — " Cousin Arthur, here is Miss Thornville." 
 
 Millicent only bowed, but Lord Fortescue 
 came forward and shook hands; it was too 
 dark to see his face, as he stood away from the 
 firelight, or Millicent might have noticed the 
 sparkle of delight in those soft dark eyes, and 
 the smile of pleasure so radiant and happy with 
 which he met her, " Miss Thornville," he said, 
 " I suppose I must do the honours till my 
 aunt comes in — will you not come near the 
 fire ?" and he pulled the sofa near it ; '' though 
 all our snow is gone, the March winds are 
 piercingly cold, yet it appears warm here in 
 comparison with the north." 
 
 *^ I suppose you do find a difterence in the 
 atmosphere," replied Millicent, as she seated
 
 MILLICENT. 239 
 
 herself on the corner of the sofa with Mary on 
 her lap. 
 
 "You have forsaken me, httle cousin," Lord 
 Fortescue said, playfully ; " but I am not 
 jealous." 
 
 " No, you must not be jealous, cousin 
 Arthur, for Miss Thornyille is so kind," replied 
 little Mary, " besides I can love you both." 
 
 Millicent blushed and stroked little Mary's 
 hair. 
 
 " Shall I ring for the lamp ?" asked Lord 
 Fortescue. 
 
 " Oh no, please no," exclaimed Mary, " it is 
 so nice to sit in the dark — oh, please wait till 
 Grandma' comes." 
 
 *^ I suppose we must indulge you, Mary," 
 he said ; " at least if Miss Thomville does not 
 mind." 
 
 " I am of Mary's taste," replied Millicent ; 
 " this is a delightful kind of light." 
 
 " It is when you have society, but not when 
 you are alone, it is dull work brooding over 
 a solitary fire."
 
 240 MILLICENT. 
 
 " Are you afraid of being alone then, cousin 
 Arthur ?" asked little Mary. 
 
 ^*No, Mary, but the reason I do not like 
 sitting in the dark alone, is, that I have no 
 one to talk with, so I prefer to Hght a candle 
 and read my books." 
 
 " Oh," said Mary, musingly, " but you do 
 not mind being alone ? " 
 
 " No, but I prefer sitting here with Miss 
 Thorn ville and you." 
 
 There was a peculiar tone in which 
 this was said, that struck Millicent, and 
 she involuntarily raised her eyes, but drop- 
 ped them instantly beneath their long 
 fringes, as she encountered the fixed gaze 
 of Lord FortescUe ; there was nothing like 
 inquisitiveness in that look ; it was re- 
 verential and almost sorrowful, and Millicent 
 thought immediately of her likeness to his 
 mother, and then of his visit to Heatherton, 
 and she said timidly, 
 
 " Miss Eobertson tells me you know my 
 home, Lord Fortescue."
 
 MILLICEXT. 241 
 
 '' My mother took me to Heatherton one- ^' 
 he replied, ^'but that was so many years ago, 
 that I have no recollection of the place or 
 people, and had not any idea; till Miss Eobeit- 
 son told me, that I must have been staying at 
 your home and with your parents. 
 
 " I have some recollection," said Millicent. 
 " of poor Mamma speaking about a Mrs. Hey- 
 ward, whom Papa thought so beautiiul and so 
 like Mamma, but I never knew she stayed with 
 us, or that you were ever there." 
 
 ^*It is strange, indeed, that our families 
 should have met," observed Lord Fortescne : 
 *4n later years, I believe, I fell in with a relative 
 of yours at Genoa, Sir James Heatherton." 
 
 ^' He is poor papa's cousin," she rephed. 
 sadly, *'but I know very little of him, for, except 
 the short time he passed at Heatherton before 
 I left, I had never seen him; he resided princi- 
 pally in Italy, where Lady Heatherton died." 
 
 '^ I knew their son intimately, but I hear, 
 poor fellow, he is sinking under the disease 
 that carried off his mother." 
 
 VOL. I. B
 
 242 MILLICENT. 
 
 " Oh, poor fellow, I am so sorry ! " said 
 Millicent, "the little I saw of Robert pleased 
 me, I thought he appeared very amiable 
 and clever." 
 
 "He is very talented indeed, though a little 
 too pedantic for his age, perhaps," replied 
 Lord Fortescue ; "his sisters are very sweet 
 girls, such gentle, amiable creatures, they 
 look too fragile to endure our cold English air." 
 
 "Are they not very pretty?" asked Milli- 
 cent, I saw a picture of them one year in 
 the Royal Academy and I thought it lovely." 
 
 " They are certainly pretty, but their 
 beauty is of a very fragile kind, and they 
 want expression, which to my taste is a most 
 essential part of beauty, but they are good 
 girls, and their affection for each other is 
 very attractive ; their father doats on them, 1 
 never saw a man so completely wrapt up in 
 his family ; it is the redeeming point in his 
 chai\acter." 
 
 " Is not Sir James usually liked ?" asked 
 Millicent.
 
 MILLICENT. 243 
 
 " No ; he is a stem, overbearing man, and, 
 I believe, not famed for his honour : perhaps 
 he may have acquired a want of integrity from 
 his long sojourn in Italy — which country, you 
 know, is not celebrated for its uprightness. 
 It would have been better for him, perhaps, 
 had he remained in England." 
 
 "And better for others," added Millicent, 
 in a sad tone of voice ; " but we forgot the 
 cause of his going. Poor Lady Heatherton," she 
 observed, after a pause, '^ and her daughters, 
 poor girls, if they are at all delicate, their new 
 home will not suit them, as the situation is 
 particularly bleak, and the wind blows very 
 cold from the sea. I was always a very hardy 
 child, and it agreed with me, but dear Mamma 
 found it very trying." 
 
 "Tou like the sea, I suppose," said Lord 
 Fortescue ; " to me it has a peculiar charm, 
 though I have resided so little on the sea 
 coast." 
 
 "Oh, the ocean's roar is the sweetest music 
 to me," replied Millicent, her voice trembling 
 
 E 2
 
 244 MILLICENT. 
 
 " I have been accustomed to it from a child, 
 and many a time I have lain awake, long after 
 every one else was asleep, listening to the 
 peculiar sound of the ground swell after a 
 storm; and from the time I first walked alone, 
 to the last day I passed at Heatherton, my 
 favourite haunts were by the ' sad sea waves,' 
 and my last home treasure was a bit of sea- 
 weed." Her voice, which had been faltering 
 painfully, here quite failed her; it was the 
 first time she had talked so much of home and 
 of her parents ; but there was a pecuhar sym- 
 pathy and quiet interest about Lord For- 
 tescue^s manner that had given her courage 
 to enter into the conversation. But when she 
 spoke of the sea, and the recollections it called 
 forth — which were interwoven round her heart 
 with a thousand fond associations — it was too 
 much for her, and when Lord Fortescue stirred 
 the fire, the light that fell on the sofa revealed 
 a picture that fascinated, though it distressed 
 him. 
 
 Mary had fallen asleep during their conver-
 
 MILLICENT. 245 
 
 sation, and her flaxen head rested against 
 Millicent's shoulder; and as Millicent bent 
 over her and tried in vain to conceal the tears 
 that flowed unchecked, Lord Fortescue thought 
 the sad expression of the soft countenance, and 
 the long shady ringlets hanging over it, re- 
 minded him more than ever of his mother ; he 
 was grieved because Millicent was sad, but his 
 gaze was riveted on her — his young, sweet 
 mother seemed to live over asrain, and he 
 thought of himself as a child, resting in her 
 arms. His was a peculiarly sensitive and 
 romantic temperament, and he sat still, as in a 
 dream — recollecting his mother's death, and 
 how he had cherished her memory, and a 
 strange thrill shot through his mind, as he 
 looked at Millicent, and thought if she re- 
 sembled his mother as much in disposition as 
 in person, might not his path and hers be the 
 same ? But Lord Fortescue had yet to learn 
 that there are many and great obstacles in the 
 road to happiness. 
 
 Millicent, who was accustomed to exercise
 
 246 MILLICENT. 
 
 great control over her feelings, soon recovered 
 herself. "Mary is indeed enjoying the fire- 
 light — there is no object so beautiful as a 
 sleeping child," she said, smiling. 
 
 " She would make a pretty picture," replied 
 Lord Fortescue, starting — just then, Mrs. 
 Seymour's voice was heard in the passage, and 
 the next moment she came in. 
 
 " Why, Fortescue, all in the dark ! " she 
 exclaimed. " Why did you not ring for the 
 lamp ? — Oh ! and Miss Thornville, you here — 
 Susan never told me ; well, I am very glad to 
 see you, dear, but what is the matter with 
 Mary, — asleep ! let her wake up now, dear, it 
 will soon be tea-time, and I expect my son in 
 every minute.'' 
 
 "I am quite impatient to see Everard, 
 I have so much to tell him," said Lord 
 Fortescue. 
 
 " Well, Mary," said Millicent, playfuUy, 
 " you are a pretty young lady to entertain 
 visitors ! you have had quite a long 
 sleep."
 
 MILLICENT. 247 
 
 " I couldn't help it," replied the little girl ; 
 "it was so comfortable to be in your 
 lap." 
 
 " I dare say it was," said Mrs. Seymour, 
 laughing ; " no — you must awake now — ^here 
 is Susan bringing the lamp, and going to clear 
 the table for the tea-things." 
 
 " Mayn't I help her?" asked Mary. 
 
 " No, my love, you must go and get nurse 
 to take off your pinafore, we shall have papa in 
 directly, and he will be quite surprised to see 
 such an untidy little girl." 
 
 '' I wish you would come too," said Mary 
 holding out her hand longingly to Millicent. 
 '^ I want so much to show you my doll's house, 
 and the rocking horse, cousin Arthur has sent 
 me from London." 
 
 Millicent could not resist Mary's beseeching 
 little tone, and as she shut the door after 
 them, Lord Fortescue turned to Mrs. Seymour, 
 saying : — " Did you not see the likeness then. 
 Aunt Margaret ? " 
 
 " Yes, I noticed it strongly just at that
 
 248 MILLICENT, 
 
 moment," she replied, " Miss Thomville is an 
 admirable girl, I like her very much." 
 
 '' She seemes to have a great many 
 troubles ;" he said, '' I had no idea she had 
 been an heiress till Miss Robertson told me." 
 
 ^'Ah, poor dear !" resumed Mrs. Seymour, 
 '^ it is very sad, but she will have a warm friend 
 in Katie Eobertson, she is a very superior girl, 
 and a nice companion for Miss Thorn ville." 
 
 There was quite a cheerful tea-party that 
 evening; and Millicent soon felt at home 
 at the Rectory, particularly as little Mary 
 seemed to have taken her under her own 
 especial care, and did the honours of the 
 muffins and tea-cake witb great zeal. 
 
 '^ 1 expected you back yesterday, Fortescue," 
 said Mr. Seymour. 
 
 '' I intended coming, but at the last moment, 
 Eager found some business, so I remained till 
 this morning — well, Everard, 1 have let Ash- 
 buiton." 
 
 '' You were not long in finding a tenant ; but 
 how did you win Eager over to your plans ?"
 
 MILLICENT. 249 
 
 '■Much easier than I expected : at first, of 
 course, he opposed it obstinately, and talked 
 a great deal about injuring the family dignit}^ 
 but his heart is really with Horton, and when 
 he saw that it was for the good of Ashburton 
 to find a tenant, he produced one immediately : 
 a Colonel Eiyers, of Whitby." 
 
 ''Rivers of the eighty-first?'' asked Mr. 
 Seymour. 
 
 '•Yes, a tall agreeable fellow, with a nice 
 sprightly wife ; I entertained them for three 
 days, at Ashburton." 
 
 '' iVIrs. Eivers was Mrs. Robertson's former 
 governess ; I married them at Westworth, last 
 November." 
 
 *' That accounts then, for her knowing so 
 much about this part of the world, but she is 
 an extremely nice person, and seems quite 
 taken with Ashburton : Colonel Rivers wanted 
 to buy it, but of course I told him that was im- 
 possible, so he has taken it on a running lease. 
 I think, Everard, ^ou and my aunt would 
 havg^ been amused if you had seen me doing
 
 250 MILLICENT. 
 
 the honours to a lady visitor ; I am afraid she 
 could not have been very comfortable, but 
 she is excessively good-natured, and put up 
 with everything in a very obliging way ; the 
 Colonel seemed remarkably proud of her, and 
 every improvement she suggests is to be carried 
 out ; I believe he will quite remodel the old 
 place, and I think they both seem to take an 
 interest in the tenantry.'' 
 
 " How did Eager agree with them ?" 
 '' Oh, he grumbled and growled a good deal 
 at first, poor fellow ! He is Grosser than ever 
 after a severe touch of the gout, but he has 
 forgotten his troubles already, I believe, in the 
 delight of finding himself 'at home,' as he calls 
 it ; he will find plenty to do, he says, after 
 his ten years' absence, and entre nous^' con- 
 tinued Lord Fortescue, laughing — " I fancy he 
 thinks he is wanted to look after me ! He had 
 not been an hour at the Chase, before he 
 began to lecture me about the park wall." 
 
 " He is of my opinion that it ought to have 
 been put in repair before," said Mr. Seymcyr.
 
 MILLICENT. 251 
 
 " Oh no, he is inveighing against my ex- 
 travagance in having all new bricks — I think 
 you said the other evening you liked characters, 
 Miss Thornville; I am sure if you do, you 
 would admire my old steward and attorney, I 
 have despatched him to Stocklee to-night to 
 grace the ball as my representative." 
 
 " All our party are there," said Millicent ;" 
 " I believe it is to be quite a grand affair." 
 
 ^'Why did not you accompany them?" 
 asked Lord Fortescue, never for a moment 
 thinking Mrs. Eobertson would object to take 
 her. 
 
 ^^ I did not wish to go," replied Millicent, 
 colouring; "I do not care for balls just 
 now." 
 
 " You are like me, then,'' he said ; " though 
 I suppose if it had not been for my uncle's 
 recent death, I must have walked through the 
 rooms to please the stewards." 
 
 Millicent could scarcely forbear a smile, 
 when she thought how poor Mrs. Eobertson 
 ha4 set her heart upon meeting Lord For-
 
 252 MILLICENT. 
 
 tescue, and how anxiously she must be looking 
 out for him ; but Lord Fortescue asked her to 
 play, and she soon forgot Mrs. Eobertson in 
 one of Mendelssohn's ' Lieder ohne Worte.' 
 Millicent played some time, and sang a duet 
 or two with Lord Fortescue, and then she 
 played a game of chess with Mr. Seymour, 
 and the evening passed so very quickly, that 
 she was quite surprised when supper came up ; 
 and after prayers Mr. Seymour volunteered to 
 see her home. Mrs. Seymour told Millicent 
 she hoped she would come very often to the 
 Rectory, and Millicent was able to thank her 
 sincerely for the pleasantest evening she had 
 spent since her arrival at Staplehurst. Lord 
 Fortescue, as well as Mr. Seymour, accom- 
 panied her home ; and when he shook hands 
 with her, in parting, he said, " I hope we 
 shall soon meet again, to hear some more of 
 your beautiful music." 
 
 Millicent, of course, did not know what 
 Lord Fortescue thought of her, but, as she 
 took up a candle off the hall table and went
 
 MILLICENT. • 253 
 
 up to bed, her mind was full of pleasurable 
 feelings. How very differently did the Robert- 
 sons return from the ball! Mrs. Eobertson 
 was out of temper with every one ; Lord For- 
 tescue's non-appearance had quite upset her 
 equanimity ; Kate was thoroughly vexed with 
 Major Sherwell for persecuting her with so 
 much attention, and also with Mr. William 
 Pearson, whom she had refrised last summer at 
 a pic-nic, and who chose at the ball to be im- 
 pertinent and satirical ; and she was angry 
 with Tom for dancing -with vulgar people. 
 She went to her own room that night so tho- 
 roughly dissatisfied and disgusted with the 
 ball and the company, that she almost came to 
 the determination never to go to another. 
 While Kate was waiting for the maid to come 
 and ease her of her tumbled finery, she sud- 
 denly recollected to have left her watch in 
 Millicent's room in the afternoon, and, thinking 
 it was not wound up, she went softly to fetch 
 it, as she was returning she took one 
 glance at Mfilicent sleeping so peaceftdly, with
 
 254 MILLICENT. 
 
 a smile on her lips, and Kate could not help 
 contrasting Millicent with herself, now so cross 
 and tired, and, yielding to the impulse of the 
 moment, she stooped and kissed her forehead. 
 Millicent opened her eyes and exclaimed, 
 " Oh Kate, dear, have you come home T 
 
 '^ Yes," she replied, "' I ought not to have 
 disturbed you ; but I came for my watch, and 
 you looked so sweet, I was obliged to kiss 
 
 you." 
 
 Millicent was now wide awake, and sitting 
 up, put her arm round Kate's neck — " You 
 have had a pleasant evening, I hope, Kate ?" 
 
 " No, Millicent, I have not, the people were 
 so odious, and I am so cold and tired ; I envied 
 you several times, and of course I need not 
 ask you if you were happy." 
 
 " Oh yes, I had a deliglitfiil evening ; they 
 were all so kind, and Mr. Seymour and Lord 
 Fortescue brought me home." 
 
 "Oh! was Lord Fortescue there?" said 
 Katie, " I told mamma from the first, he would 
 not be at the ball — but good night, dear Milli-
 
 MILLICENT. 255 
 
 cent ; there is Benson waiting, I must not 
 keep her up any longer, poor thing." 
 
 Millicent lay awake sometime after Kate 
 had gone, thinking about her disappointed and 
 dissatisfied look and manner. Could Lord 
 Fortescue have anything to do with it ; did 
 Kate care for him? — but she instantly re- 
 jected this idea as ridiculous. Yet, in Kate 
 Robertson's proud heart there was a deep, 
 intense feeling, known only to her own mind, 
 and battled against as a sin — as something too 
 unmaidenly to think about ; but it had grown 
 and ripened, and become deeper ; the more she 
 strove against it, the more it increased, and 
 took greater hold of the noble gui's heart : 
 this was a fixed — rooted love for Everard Sey- 
 mour ! No one knew how she fought against it, 
 and yet she could neither conquer nor soften it. 
 When first Kate had returned from school, Mr. 
 Seymour had been the only person whose tastes 
 and ideas at aU coincided with her own. He 
 had taken an interest in the proud, lofty girl, 
 and pitied her uncongenial position ; and in
 
 256 MILLICENT. 
 
 their frequent intercourse, he had entered into 
 her studies, and helped and directed her in a 
 choice of books suitable to her attainments ; 
 and while they conversed on subjects of mutual 
 interest, Kate gradually began to find her hap- 
 piness in his society. When she became aware 
 of the nature of her feelings, her deep vene- 
 ration for Mr. Seymour made her not dare to 
 hope that he would care for her in return. 
 How could he, when he had so recently lost 
 one so different in every respect from herself? 
 But oh, if he would only care for her some 
 future day 1 — and in this hope, in spite of iier 
 struggles to suppress it, Kate had for four long 
 years lived with the dreary sense of bemg un- 
 loved !
 
 MIXLICENT. 257 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 Such virtues must prevail, and day by day 
 Perfect their power ; for though of gentlest kind, 
 Yet urg'd perpetual, such the sternest heart 
 Must gradual soften, and at length subdue.' 
 
 Mason Good's Lucretius. 
 
 When Millicent came into the breakfast-room 
 the next morning at her usual hour, as she 
 expected, there was no one there, and not 
 liking to begin breakfast by herself, she took 
 a book and sat near the fire to wait for the first 
 of the party who would find their way down, 
 hoping it might be Kate, when they could have a 
 little talk over last night's events ,* for Millicent 
 longed to tell her how fiiendly Mrs. Seymour 
 VOL. I. S
 
 258 MILLICENT. 
 
 had been, and what a loving little creature 
 she had thought Mary, and how Mr. Seymour 
 and Lord Fortescue were the kindest and most 
 agreable people she had ever met ; and just 
 as she was recounting to herself some of the 
 delights of the preceding evening, to her dis- 
 appointment, in walked Tom, looking very 
 stupid and sleepy. 
 
 '' Pon my word, Miss Thornville, you are 
 an early bird," lie exclaimed; "who would have 
 thought of seeing you down? I concluded 
 that the whole establishment was still enjoying 
 its first dream but myself." 
 
 " There was no occasion for me to sleep 
 later than usual," replied Millicent, smiling ; 
 " I came home by eleven o'clock." 
 
 " You had a slow evening, I suppose; I wish 
 uncommonly you had been at Stocklee; we had 
 a stunning ball, such a pick of officers ! — Oh, 
 it was a fine time for the gii;Js, it is a pity you 
 were not there." 
 
 '' Thank you, I did not wish to go," said 
 Millicent, ^' I was very happy with ]\Irs. 
 Seymour."
 
 MILLICENT. 259 
 
 " Aye, she is a good oM soul," resumed 
 Tom, "but you surely did not spend the 
 evening alone with her ? " 
 
 " Oh, no," replied Millicent, longing for Kate 
 to come down and relieve her fi'om this 
 tite-d-tete with Tom. 
 
 "Mr. Seymour was at home, I suppose, 
 eh. Miss Thornville ? " asked Tom. 
 
 " Yes/' she replied, " and Mary was there, 
 she is a dear little child." 
 
 " She is a little trump," said Tom, " worth 
 both oui' children put together, only she is 
 afraid of me ! — I say, Miss Thornville, I wisli 
 you would come and make breakfast, you 
 must be awfully hungry by this time, and it 
 does not appear as if any of the good people 
 have turned out yet." 
 
 " Don't you think it would be best to wait 
 a little longer?" replied Millicent ; "perhaps 
 Mrs. Eobertson might not wish us to begin 
 without her." ^ 
 
 " Oh, bother waiting," said Tom ; "I want 
 my breakfast — come, do be amiable and pour 
 
 s 2
 
 260 MILLICENT. 
 
 out the coffee — you would not wish me to 
 starve in the midst of plenty " — and he rang 
 for the breakfast. 
 
 Millicent began to feel very uncomfortable ; 
 she had strong thoughts of retreating to the 
 school -room ; but then, she was really hungry, 
 and also, she must wait to give the children 
 their breakfast ; but she determined not to 
 begin herself till they did, and, resuming her 
 book, she pretended to be deeply absorbed in 
 its contents, though in reality Millicent was 
 thinking how angry Mrs. Eobertson would be, 
 if she came down and found her alone with 
 Tom. During this interval, the butler had 
 brought in the covers ; and Tom, seating him- 
 self at the table, called out — " Come, Miss 
 Thornville, it is all ready.'' 
 
 " I shall wait for the children," said Milli- 
 cent. 
 
 " Oh, nonsense, don't be silly ! — why not 
 have your breakfast now it s hot — I can re- 
 commend you some kippered salmon ;" and he 
 commenced filling a plate for her.
 
 MILLICENT. 261 
 
 ^* I would really rather not, thank you," said 
 Millicent. 
 
 *^ I did not think you were so obstinate," 
 exclaimed Tom ; but recollecting Kate's advice, 
 he thought he must not tease her any longer ; 
 and he added — ^' Well, if you are afraid to eat 
 your breakfast with me, at least don't be so 
 hard-hearted as to refuse to pour out a poor 
 fellow's coffee," 
 
 Millicent coloured to her forehead; she 
 thought it might seem silly, and Tom might 
 think she was afraid of him ; so she took her 
 seat at the table, and helped him ; though she 
 still refused to have any breakfast till the 
 others came down. 
 
 '^ We had splendid dancing last night," re- 
 sumed Tom, who was bent upon making him- 
 self agreeable ; " the music was first-rate ; it 
 was worth while tripping on the light fantastic 
 toe to such time: the 31st got well compli- 
 mented on their band." 
 
 ^' I am glad it was so agreeable," replied 
 Millicent ; but just then the door opened, and 
 Mrs. Robertson came in.
 
 262 MILLICENT. 
 
 " Good morning mother," called out Tom ; 
 '^ so you are down at last ?" 
 
 " Don't make remarks/' exclaimed Mrs. Ro- 
 bertson, then turning to Millicent, who had got 
 up and was longing for some breakfast — she said 
 in a very angry tone — " I suppose, Miss Thorn- 
 ville, you do not know it is half-past ten ? " 
 
 " Oh, is it ?" replied Millicent ; I '' thought 
 you would like me to wait for Fanny and 
 Augustus." 
 
 ^^You thought so, — pray do not make ex- 
 cuses ; I cannot bear them. I can perceive 
 plainly enough your reason for loitering here 
 — ^to gossip. I am surprised, Miss Thornville, 
 you don't know better." 
 
 ^' 'Pon my word, mother," said Tom, " she 
 did not want to gossip ; for I could hardly get 
 her to help me, and then she kept her book, 
 and would not raise her eyes ; though it is a 
 treat to see 'em now and then." 
 
 " Miss Thornville," said Mrs. Robertson, 
 " you would do as well to retire to the school- 
 room ; it is your proper place, and the gover-
 
 MILLICENT. 263 
 
 iiesses, at Staplehurst, are not required to pass 
 their morning, making breakfast for my family." 
 "Mother," interrupted Tom, "that's too 
 bad, she has not breakfasted herself yet." 
 
 "Tom, I wish you would not interfere," 
 exclauned Mrs. Kobertson. " I cannot think. 
 Miss Thornville, how you can have had the 
 conscience to waste your morning like this — 
 there, don't stand waiting any longer, but begin 
 at once ; the children will be expecting you." 
 " Will they not want breakfast too ?" asked 
 Millicent, who felt quite excited and miserable 
 between Mrs. Robertson and Tom. 
 
 " They have had it long ago in the nursery, 
 you ought to have known that, as well as I do." 
 " Indeed I did not," replied Millicent, " no 
 one ever told me." 
 
 "Don't argue so," said Mrs. Robertson, 
 " but make haste ; it is not becoming for 
 governesses to behave in this way." 
 
 " I think," replied Millicent, quietly, " I 
 had better go into the school-room at once ; I 
 seem, unintentionally, to have offended you
 
 264 MILLICENT. 
 
 this morning, Mrs. Eobertson ;" and taking 
 her cup and plate slie left the room, with the 
 gentle dignity which never forsook her even 
 in the most trying position. 
 
 " Fine airs, indeed I" exclaimed Mrs, Ro- 
 bertson. 
 
 ''What is the matter, Mamma?" asked 
 Kate, who just came in through the library ; 
 ' ^ fresh persecutions for the unfortunate gover- 
 ness, I suppose ! I think when the children are 
 grown up, we must still keep some poor victim 
 of a girl, to scold when there is nothing better 
 to do." 
 
 ^' I wonder, Kate, when you will leave off 
 talking about what you do not understand," 
 replied her mother, crossly ; "it would not be 
 like you, if you did not oppose all my plans 
 with the governesses." 
 
 '^ Kate's one in a thousand," said Tom ; 
 " mother, you were awftilly hard on the poor 
 girl ; I declare she was doing no harm." 
 
 " Harm !" repeated Kate, " No, I should 
 think not ; what was the matter, Tom ?"
 
 MILLICENT. 265 
 
 *" Oh nothing, only Mamma is a little bit 
 fierce after our night's ^ dissipation,' as the 
 parsons call it, and for the want of something 
 to do, she just let off a little wrath: there, 
 never mind, mother !" 
 
 " Oh, it is not very becoming in you to 
 make fun of me," said Mrs. Robertson ; ^' I 
 assure you it is no very pleasant thing to have 
 a governess in the house with you, particularly 
 as Miss Thorn ville seems so fond of flirting." 
 
 '' I wish she were," replied Tom ; " but as 
 it is, she is so demure and grave that I can 
 scarcely get beyond a yes or no, which is too 
 cold for me." 
 
 " Tom," exclaimed Kate in a low voice, 
 and, casting on him a reproachful look, " I 
 see you have forgotten our conversation of the 
 other day." 
 
 " What was that?" said Mrs. Eobertson, in 
 alai*m ; ^^ some fresh imprudence ! Kate, I 
 thought you knew better than to encourage 
 Tom in his behaviour to the governesses !" 
 
 " Oh, Mamma, we have had enough of this,"
 
 266 MILLICENT. 
 
 replied Kate, '^ you know Miss Thorn ville and 
 Tom would not do anything to find fault with." 
 
 ^' No, that we were not," put in Tom ; " she 
 only poured out my coffee, while she was 
 waiting for the young ones." 
 
 ^^ I thought there was nothing to make a 
 fiiss about," observed Kate, taking up the 
 advertisement sheet of the Times. 
 
 Clara usually preferred passing her morning 
 in bed after a ball, and shortly before lunch 
 she got up, prepared to rehearse the events of 
 the preceding evening during the process of 
 hair-dressing, with her confidante, the lady's 
 maid. 
 
 " So, Lord Fortescue was not there, after 
 all. Miss?" said Benson. 
 
 " No," replied Clara ; '' but how did you 
 know?" 
 
 " Oh, Miss, it was an odd thing, to be sure ! 
 — but things are odd now-a-days — governesses 
 ain't what they used to be." 
 
 "What do you mean?" asked Clara, all 
 curiosity.
 
 MILLICENT. 267 
 
 " Oh, I had it dii-ect from |Price, and I can 
 assure you, it's all the talk in the servant's 
 haU." 
 
 '' What is? — how stupid you are, Benson." 
 
 *' Oh, Miss, about the way the governess 
 came home, and at midnight, too ! — it does 
 not look the thing — if we servants walked about 
 at night, Missis would be the first to pass her 
 remarks." 
 
 " Did Miss Thornville walk home with 
 Lord Fortescue, then?" asked Clara, im- 
 patiently. 
 
 "Why, yes. Miss; it seemed like a fore- 
 thought-of-thing." 
 
 " Pre-arranged, you mean," said Clara ; 
 " but you do not mean to say they were alone 
 —won't mamma be angry !" 
 
 "I can't know for certain anything about 
 it, Miss ; I beheve Price to say, Mr. Seymour 
 was there, but my lord and Miss were walking 
 first, and so sweet on each other I — and they 
 were heard at the door talking^ about another 
 meeting and some more singing — I should not
 
 268 MILLICENT. 
 
 be surprised, after Miss Ellerton, if things 
 might take the same turn here !" 
 
 " What stuff you talk, Benson," said Clara, 
 sharply ; "I will see that Miss Thornville is 
 spoken to, and don't go talking about it in the 
 village, or mamma will be angry." 
 
 Delighted at something to turn against 
 Millicent, whom she disliked more than ever, 
 Clara ran down to luncheon, determined to 
 tell her mamma all Benson's account, and 
 prove how right her suspicions had been re- 
 specting Lord Fortescue and their governess. 
 
 " You might have waited for me," ex- 
 claimed Clara, as she found them all assem- 
 bled — " it is scarcely one, and you know I 
 don't like to find everything cold." 
 
 " It is the reward of laziness," replied Tom. 
 
 " I thought you had gone out with Papa," 
 said Clara — " you are always at home now — 
 oh, there is the hall bell ! — Miss Thornville, 
 do not let Augustus swing in his chair — the 
 children are n()t half looked after !" 
 
 Kate gave a scornful look at Clara, and the
 
 MILLICENT. 269 
 
 butler announced — " Lord Fortescue in the 
 drawing-room, Ma'am/' 
 
 '^ Dear me," said Mrs. Kobertson — " how 
 unfortunate ! What shall we do, Kate ?" 
 
 ^' I wiU go and ask Lord Fortescue to join 
 us at lunch,'' replied Kate, rising. 
 
 Millicent felt a little fluttered when Kate 
 returned with Lord Fortescue, who after 
 greeting the rest of the family, came round to 
 a vacant seat by her, and said he hoped she 
 caught no cold last night. 
 
 " Oh, none at all, thank you," rephed 
 Millicent. 
 
 "Lord Fortescue," said Mrs. Kobertson. 
 " do come nearer the fire ; it is not at all 
 agreeable to sit out by the door." 
 
 " I prefer it, Mrs. Kobertson — but I am 
 afraid I have disturbed you all ; I did not 
 intend to come in at your lunch, but I find 
 I have in some way mistaken an houi' ; I 
 wished to have called before your drive, to 
 inquu^e how you all are after the fatigues of 
 the ball."
 
 270 MILLICENT. 
 
 '^ Our ball went off remarkably well," re- 
 plied Mrs. Robertson, trying to put on a little 
 coolness. 
 
 " I thought, mother," interrupted Tom, 
 with a provoking smile, ^* you said you were 
 disappointed in it — the company was not so 
 good as you expected." 
 
 " You are mistaken," replied Mrs. Robert- 
 son, reddening a little — " the generality of the 
 company was excellent ; the best we have had 
 since the foundation of the Stocklee balls ; but, 
 there certainly were some people, I must say, 
 who spoilt the appearance of the whole." 
 
 " Mother is aiming at my friend Miss 
 Blake," continued Tom. 
 
 " Oh, poor Miss Blake !" said Lord Fortes- 
 cue, smiling — " 1 hope, Mrs. Robertson, she 
 did not transgress in any way ?" 
 
 *^ I know nothing about her, my lord ; she 
 is not exactly the sort of person I expected 
 my son to have danced with." 
 
 "Well, Mamma, she did not trouble us 
 much," said Clara, who was dreadfully fearful
 
 MILLICENT. 271 
 
 of offending Lord Fortescue — "You had a 
 pleasant evening at the Eectoiy, I presume ?" 
 she continued, addressing him. 
 
 Millicent coloured crimson, and Lord For- 
 tescue replied — " The Rectory is always 
 pleasant." 
 
 There was something in his tone which 
 struck Millicent ; poor girl ! she had been 
 crying all the morning at Mrs. Robertson's 
 unkindness, and now she felt ready to cry 
 again at the thoughts of fresh disagreeables 
 from Clara, who resumed — 
 
 " It was quite tantalising to hear of your 
 musical performances." 
 
 " No one told you there had been music at 
 the Rectory," said Kate, coldly, as she caught 
 Millicent's beseeching look. 
 
 "What a funny idea!" said Clara, laugh- 
 ing, though she felt annoyed. " How should 
 I know, if some one had not told me ?" 
 
 " Hedges have eyes, and walls have ears," 
 remarked Tom. 
 
 " Lord Fortescue," said Clara, with a forced
 
 272 MILLICENT. 
 
 smile, " you must not attend to Tom, he is a 
 shocking fellow for jokes." 
 
 ^' Brothers are usually rather hard on their 
 sisters," observed Lord Fortescue. 
 
 " Not a bit too hard," replied Tom. '' But 
 come, Clara, out with it — who told you what 
 happened, last night, at the Eectory ?" 
 
 Kate looked excessively annoyed, and en- 
 deavoured to change the conversation ; but 
 Tom was in a spirit of mischief that morning, 
 and would not be put down, so lie resumed — 
 " Clara, what songs were sung last night — of 
 course, Miss Thorn ville told you that ?" 
 
 " Miss Thornville told sister Clara nothing," 
 said Augustus, ^' for she has been in the school- 
 room all the morning, and Clara was in bed." 
 
 " Benson told you, Clara," called out Fanny, 
 *' I heard her and Price " 
 
 Millicent pulled Fanny's sleeve with an im- 
 plormg " Dear Fanny, you must not " 
 
 But Tom exclaimed, " Finish it, Fanny — 
 finish it ! — the man told the maid, and the 
 maid told the mistress ! — that's the sum total.
 
 MILLICENT 273 
 
 But the mystery now is, how came the man 
 to know ?" 
 
 ^^Oh," resumed Fanny, ^^ Price heard some- 
 thing when '' 
 
 '' Fanny," said Clara, " your kitten must be 
 shut up in the library; go and let her out. 
 Don't you hear her ?" 
 
 " Oh, I will go," said Augustus, jumping up. 
 
 " No, Augustus, stay here," repHed Clara. 
 " Miss Thornville, why do you not attend to 
 Augustus ?" 
 
 '' Never mind the children," said poor Mrs. 
 Kobertson, who had forgotten all about her 
 intended coolness in the annoyance caused by 
 this complete expose of her badly-managed 
 family. But, like all well-bred people placed 
 in similar scenes. Lord Fortescue pretended 
 not to observe what was going on, but kept 
 up an animated conversation with Kate, who 
 was talking quickly and with apparent interest, 
 though they both heard the crusade against 
 Clara, and the attacks on Millicent ; and it 
 would be difficult to say which pitied Millicent 
 
 VOL. I. T
 
 274 MILLICENT. 
 
 the most. Lord Fortescue might have longed, 
 perhaps, to take her away from such a hu- 
 mihating position ; and Katie, no doubt, was 
 wishing to burst forth in indignant reproof to 
 her mother and sister. No one could tell the 
 extent of what Millicent felt ; the half-hour at 
 that luncheon-table was a season of deep suf- 
 fering, and, though not the bitterest, it was 
 perhaps the most humbHng trial she had ever 
 known ; to sit there and be made the subject 
 of rude jokes on one side, and unkind, cutting 
 remarks from the other — and these before a 
 person she wished to think well of her — was 
 intolerable ; and, worse than all, to have her 
 narAe mixed up continually with servants' gos- 
 sip, which referring to Lord Fortescue, must 
 make him despise her. But Millicent did not 
 know the feelings that were working within 
 his heart, and his sorrow for her, and contempt 
 for Clara, the author of her trouble. She was 
 so miserable, trembling, and frightened, as she 
 sat by his side, that she scarcely knew what 
 she did, and her only relief was, that he could
 
 MILLICENT. 275 
 
 not see her iace, and that he continued talking 
 to Kate, as if nothing were going on. Poor 
 Millicent! she longed with an intense desire 
 to be able to fly back to the past, when she 
 had been the object of attention and considera- 
 tion alike from visitors and servants ; — but 
 those halcyon days were passed, and she was 
 a governess ! 
 
 When, at last, the luncheon was finished. 
 and Millicent rose to return to the school- 
 room. Lord Fortescue got up and opened the 
 door for her, and wished her good-bye, with a 
 marked courtesy which sent a thrill of pleasure 
 to her heart ; and when she went to dress for 
 her walk, instead of indulging in a burst of 
 tears, she thought of his kind attention when 
 she only expected cold contempt. 
 
 *^Miss Robertson," said Lord Fortescue, 
 after Millicent had gone, ^^ I think you pro- 
 mised to teach me the seconds to a few duets. 
 When may I claim your kind instructions ?" 
 
 ** Oh, I am prepared to begin at once," 
 replied Kate ; " I have been looking out some 
 
 t2
 
 276 MILLICENT. 
 
 music this morning — will you come into the 
 drawing-room." 
 
 Lord Fortescue and Kate soon forgot the 
 recent disagreables, in the delight of trying 
 new music; Clara and Tom still continued in 
 the dining-room, the one scolding, and the 
 other teasing to their hearts' content, while 
 poor Mrs. Robertson was concocting new 
 regulations for her governess, reproofs for Tom, 
 and punishment for the children, and intending 
 to repeat her oft-told admonition to Clara, not 
 to make a confidante of her maid. 
 
 It was not till just before dressing-time that 
 Mrs. Robertson, found Clara alone, reading in 
 her own room by the firelight. 
 
 "Well, Clara," her mother began, '^we had 
 a pretty scene at luncheon to-day ; it was not 
 an encouragement for Lord Fortescue to come 
 to Staplehurst." 
 
 " It was not my fault,'' replied Clara, 
 turning over the leaves of her book. 
 
 "Yes it was partly, Clara; it was most 
 injudicious of you to bring up Benson's gossip
 
 MILLICENT. 277 
 
 before a visitor, and I must tell you again, 
 I cannot have you so intimate with my maid ; 
 you never hear Kate relating any tales from 
 the servant's hall." 
 
 *^ Oh, Kate is perfection," pouted Clara ; 
 ^* she nevtr does anything that is T^Tong ! — 
 She need not have contradicted me so flatly at 
 lunch — if she had not, Tom would never 
 have taken it up and we should have avoided 
 a scene — and after all Miss Thomville was 
 the worst, for letting the children go on as 
 they did, it was positively shameful ! — do 
 you intend to keep her. Mamma?" 
 
 " I cannot send her away yet, you see 
 she has only just come ; but she will not 
 stay long — ^her behaviour is scandalous." 
 
 "So you always say, Mamma, but you 
 never speak decidedly to her." 
 
 " I intend to do so seriously, this evening, 
 and if she does not like it, she may leave 
 — I am sure talking of servants being the 
 plague of one's life, they are not one half 
 the worry of governesses."
 
 278 MILLICENT. 
 
 " Depend upon it, Mamma, it was a pre- 
 concerted thing, her going to meet Lord 
 Fortescue last night ; even the servants think 
 
 so, and Benson ^ " 
 
 "Clara have I not often told you I will 
 not listen to Benson's gossip, the servants 
 
 have no business to make remarks 1 
 
 asked Kate, and she tells me that Lord 
 Fortescue came in quite unexpectedly, he 
 had not even returned home when the Sey- 
 mours invited Miss Thornville, and as to 
 his walking back with her, as Kate says, it 
 was the most natural thing possible, siace 
 Mr. Seymour was there." 
 
 " Kate again — Kate is the Staplehurst 
 oracle ! really. Mamma, you are coming round 
 to her views." 
 
 " No, my dear, I am not, for I think Miss 
 Thornville is best out of the way, and the 
 society of persons, now so much her superiors, 
 will only make her conceited ; but some people 
 make a merit of patronising governesses." 
 
 "It is something more than patronising
 
 MILLICENT. 279 
 
 with Lord Fortescue/' said Clara ; " did you see 
 how he sat by her in preference to anyone else ?" 
 
 " Because that was the only vacant chair, 
 and he did not wish to disturb us. My dear 
 Clara, I cannot think how you can get such 
 sUly notions into your head, when it is per- 
 fectly clear he admires your sister." 
 
 ^^Oh," exclaimed Clara, laughing, "then why 
 in the world did he not come to the ball?" 
 
 *^ Because of his uncle. Think how short a 
 time he has been dead, Clara." 
 
 " How you do change, to be sure, Mamma ; 
 only this morning you were so angry with him, 
 and now you make excuses — But did you 
 notice his opening the door for Miss Thorn- 
 ville, and the way he said good bye — what did 
 he mean? Come, Mamma, what can you say 
 to that?'' 
 
 " Clara," said Mrs. Eobertson, who was get- 
 ting quite angry, " there was nothing in his 
 opening the door — some gentlemen do to every 
 one; I have known your uncle Delamere 
 get up even for a dress-maker ; it is very ab-
 
 280 MILLICENT. 
 
 surd, but it is some persons' habit ; and the 
 same in saying good bye ; those titled people 
 make a point of being civil to every one — I 
 am sure he was stiff enough to her, and the 
 notice he paid Kate was quite marked — you 
 were not in the room when they practised — I 
 am very pleased and flattered, and I shall be 
 greatly surprised if it does not lead to some- 
 thing." 
 
 " It looks like it, indeed," said Clara, "when 
 he could remain away all that time." 
 
 "It was business, Clara, that must be at- 
 tended to." 
 
 " Before love ?" observed Clara, coldly. 
 
 " How obstinate you are, child ; you never 
 see things tiU so long after other people." 
 
 " Indeed, Mamma, who fii'st found out about 
 Colonel Eivers and Miss Ellerton ? — and when 
 you would not even believe he was paying 
 her any attention, they were actually engaged ! 
 — who was long in seeing this, Mamma ? — If 
 you do not mind, Lord Fortescue will turn out 
 a second Colonel Rivers."
 
 MILLICENT. 281 
 
 " Clai'a, I am really angry with you; I do 
 not see what either Miss Thornville or he, has 
 done to warrant you in arriving at such absurd 
 conclusions ; he merely walked with Mr. Sey- 
 mour, when he brought her home last night, 
 and from this you must fly off into all sorts of 
 absurd conjectures ; I certainly thought you 
 had more sense." 
 
 " Well, Mamma, you will not believe me 
 now, but you will soon ; no one cares the least 
 for what I say, but I am positive I am right, 
 and I have my reasons for thinking it." 
 
 " Oh, nonsense, child ! a maid's gossip is 
 always your authority, and till you can pro- 
 duce something better, I will not accuse Lord 
 Fortescue of any outrageous conduct, like 
 Colonel Eivers." 
 
 " Very well, Mamma, we shall see," replied 
 Clara. 
 
 When Kate came up that evening into her 
 boudoir, to take her German lesson, she found 
 MiUicent waiting for her, and looking very un- 
 happy. The fact was, Mrs. Eobertson had
 
 282 MILLICENT. 
 
 been pouring out her anger, accusing her 
 of flirting with Tom, of neglecting the chil- 
 dren, and, in short, talking very fast and 
 angrily. Millicent did not understand a great 
 deal, but she heard enough to make her very 
 wretched, and wish to leave ; but she had 
 already found in Staplehurst a few friends she 
 would not like to part with, so she determined 
 not to say anything hastily, and try a little 
 longer to bear with Mrs. Robertson's bad tem- 
 per, and her other trials. 
 
 " I think, Millicent," said Kate, " you would 
 rather not give me my lesson to-night ; I am 
 sure you will prefer resting after the fatigues 
 of the day." 
 
 ^* Oh no," replied Millicent, " I would rather 
 not sit and think, it makes me so miserable — 
 I like something to occupy me — so please be- 
 gin ; we are to look over the prepositions to- 
 night, page 380." 
 
 Millicent said this in such a sad though 
 resigned tone, that Katie exclaimed, "You 
 poor dear child, I cannot bear to hear you
 
 MILLICENT. 283 
 
 talk about being miserable/^ and she stooped 
 down and, stroking back Millicent's hair, 
 kissed her forehead gently. This was too much 
 for Millicent ; if any one had scolded her, she 
 would have heard them calmly, but this little 
 mark of affection touched the pent-up foun- 
 tains of sorrow, and hiding her face on Kate's 
 shoulder, she burst into a hysterical fit of 
 sobbing. 
 
 *'Dear Millicent," said Kate, speaking 
 cheerfully, and in an encouraging tone, " I 
 cannot allow you to cry so, you will be quite 
 ill. This is a strange way of beginning our 
 grammar — but we will put away our preposi- 
 tions for to-night; you shall lie down on the sofa, 
 and I will read to you. Will you like that ?" 
 But Millicent cried bitterly for some minuter, 
 and all the time, Kate caressed and soothed 
 her ; and if the orphan girl had doubted be- 
 fore, she could doubt no longer that Katie 
 really loved her. At last Millicent's sobs 
 became less violent, and soon they ceased en- 
 tirely, as she said, in a choking voice, " I am
 
 284 MILLICENT. 
 
 very sorry to have been so silly; I did not 
 intend to give way — but I really could not 
 help it. I hope you do not despise me, 
 Katie?" 
 
 "Despise you, Millicent!" and Katie twined 
 her arm fondly round her ; " I am only sorry 
 to see you so distressed. Come, you must lie 
 down and rest — ^nonsense ! I will be obeyed/' 
 and Kate gently placed Millicent on the sofa. 
 " Now, stay there till I return," she said play^ 
 lully; and, running down stairs, she came 
 back quickly with a decanter in one hand, 
 and a thi of biscuits in the other. 
 
 ^^ Don't stare at me so, Millicent,'' Kate 
 said, laughing ; "I have been doing a daring 
 thing — laying siege to Price's pantry ; and 
 while he was ministering to the wants of the 
 drawing-room fire, I put a wine-glass inside 
 the tin-case. And, now; my dear, I am going 
 to turn doctor, and prescribe a stimulant." 
 
 Millicent laughed a little in her turn, and 
 said, " Oh, Kate, you are much too good." 
 
 " You untruthful child ! " replied Kate ;
 
 MILLICENT. 285 
 
 '^you told me the other day it was impossible 
 to be good enough ! Now, you must lie still, 
 and I will read to you ; you may sleep, if you 
 like/' 
 
 " No, I would rather not sleep, thank you, 
 Katie ; I am quite well now — at least, I was 
 not ill, only rather miserable; but I am almost 
 glad it happened so, because now, Katie, I 
 know you love me, or you would never have 
 been so kind — so very kind !" 
 
 " My dear child, I have done nothing so 
 wonderfully kind," said Kate, while a tear 
 trembled in her dark eye ; '^ but as to loving 
 you, I will tell you, ]\Iillicent, that I not only 
 love, but respect and honour you, and, in 
 return, I have one request to ask." 
 
 " What is it, dear Kate," said Millicent, 
 anxiously. 
 
 '' That you will never thmk of leaving 
 Staplehurst without telling me first." 
 
 " I promise you I will not," replied Milh- 
 cent ; but what made you think of that ?" 
 
 '' I have been thinking a great deal about it
 
 286 MILLICENT. 
 
 to-day; and I was afraid, if you became so 
 very miserable, you would meditate deserting 
 me, and I could not bear to part, just when I 
 have learned to know and love you." 
 
 " Your love, dear Kate, will compensate for 
 many trials," said Millicent, "though I do 
 not know why you should care so much for me." 
 
 " That is very different from what Lord 
 Fortescue said to me to-day ; I was mention- 
 ing you, I believe, in connection with our 
 music, and I said something pretty about 
 you," continued Kate, smiling ; " and he im- 
 mediately interrupted me with, "I don't 
 wonder that you like Miss Thornville.' " 
 
 **Did he say so?" exclaimed Millicent, 
 colouring. 
 
 ''Yes," replied Kate, enjoying her confu- 
 sion. " I told you the first night he was here 
 that he liked you." 
 
 Just then, somethhig knocked against the 
 door. Kate jumped up and looked out ; the 
 passage was quite dark, but she plainly heard 
 some one running down the back stairs.
 
 MILLICENT. 287 
 
 "Listeners hear no good of themselves," 
 said Kate, coming back, her eyes flashing 
 scornfully ; " people had better refrain from 
 listening at my door.'* 
 
 " I do not think any one was listening," 
 said Millicent. 
 
 " But I am sure there was," replied Kate. 
 " Do you think the servants would do so ?" 
 asked Millicent. 
 
 " No Millicent, certainly not — I am very 
 much annoyed ; it is one of the things I most 
 detest ; listening is such a contemptible prac- 
 tice !" 
 
 " Oh, never mind, dear Kate," said Milli- 
 cent, coaxingly. 
 
 " But I do mind very much, I must go 
 down now — stay here as long as you like — I 
 shall come back by and by — you will find 
 some interesting books here;" and Katie 
 placed a little table by the sofa, with some 
 imcut volumes and a paper knife, and, kissing 
 Millicent, she took up her candle and went 
 away, looking very displeased.
 
 288 MILLICENT. 
 
 ^* You do not give us much of your com- 
 pany now in the evening," said Mrs. Robert- 
 son, as Kate came into the drawing-room ; 
 ^^you have been away more than an hour." 
 
 " Indeed, Mamma !" replied Kate, taking 
 up a book, then putting it down, and, looking 
 straight at Clara, she continued — " I hope you 
 did not hurt yourself just now?" 
 
 " When ?" asked Clara, becoming very red. 
 
 " Only when you fell against my door ; I 
 came out to inquire, but you went so quickly 
 down the back stairs, that I could not see 
 
 you." 
 
 ^^1 do not know what you mean," Clara 
 answered, getting up and going to the piano. 
 
 Kate followed, and said in a sarcastic tone, 
 " I hope our conversation edified you, only 
 pray come in the next time ; I should think 
 it would be much more agreeable, though 1 
 have had no experience in such a lady-like 
 employment." 
 
 Clara pretended not to hear, and, snatching 
 up the first song within her reach, began to
 
 MILLICENT. 289 
 
 sing. Tom was out that evening late, so that 
 Clara had not to bear his jokes ; but Kate's 
 satirical remarks were worse. The piano was 
 at the farther end of the drawing-room, so 
 Mr. and Mrs. Eobertson, who were sitting by 
 the fire, did not hear what Kate said, but 
 they thought something had ofiended her, by 
 her haughty expression of contempt as she 
 returned to the table, and resumed her book. 
 Clara kept quite at a distance from her sister 
 the rest of the evening, and went away earlier 
 than usual — not to bed, however, for when 
 Mrs. Robertson came into her room, she found 
 Clara sitting by the fire ; she did not say much 
 at first, but looked the picture of ill-temper. 
 " What is the matter, Clara ?" asked her 
 mother. 
 
 " Oh, nothing, Mamma, only Kate is so 
 unkind ; she does not behave at all as a sister. 
 I am sure she likes Miss Thornville much bet- 
 ter than me." 
 
 " You must not mind her," said Mrs. Eo- 
 bertson, persuasively. 
 
 "Well, Mamma, but you must own it is 
 
 VOL. I. U
 
 290 MILLICENT. 
 
 very hard she prefers a governess to her own 
 sister !" 
 
 '^ That is nonsense, Clara ; though Kate 
 certainly is much too intimate with Miss 
 Thornville. It is a great pity she will not be 
 advised, but I dislike to be always speaking 
 to her ; besides, if Lord Fortescue's attention 
 becomes serious, she may not be with us long.'' 
 
 " You imagine so, Mamma ; but I now 
 know it is Miss Thornville he likes." 
 
 " I cannot imagine why you persist in talking 
 so, Clara," said her mother, angrily. 
 
 " Well, then. Mamma, I can prove it," re- 
 plied Clara, in an exulting tone ; " I was 
 going down the passage this evening to ask 
 Kate to come and sing with me ; when I got 
 to Kate's room, I heard Miss Thornville was 
 there, so I hesitated about going in, and just 
 then I heard Miss Thornville, in answer, I sup- 
 pose, to something Kate told her, ask — ' Did 
 he say so ?' and Kate said — ' Yes ; I told you 
 the first night he liked you.' " 
 
 " Shameful ! " exclaimed Mrs. Robertson, 
 indignantly. " It was Tom, Kate meant ; I
 
 MILLICENT. 291 
 
 have noticed a sort of understanding between 
 them both, whenever Miss Thomville is spoken 
 of, or is in the waj. I must and shall put a 
 stop to this intimacy ; the idea of one of our 
 family marrying a governess, is unheard of ! 
 — and Kate to act so contemptibly ! Go to 
 bed now, Clara, but never listen at your 
 sister's door again. — I shall see into this to- 
 morrow." 
 
 " Oh, Mamma, pray do not say I told 
 you !" said Clara, beseechingly. 
 
 ** Of course, not ; now go to bed, I cannot 
 bear to talk any more about it — my son think- 
 ing of a governess, indeed, and Kate conniv- 
 ing at it !" 
 
 " Indeed, Mamma,'' said Clara, " Kate 
 meant Lord Fortescue, I know she did ; Tom 
 only jokes with Miss Thomville, for the sake 
 of teasing me." 
 
 But Mrs. Robertson would listen no longer, 
 she remained obstinate in her opinion; and 
 Clara went to bed in anything but a pleasant 
 frame of mind. 
 
 It was nearly ten o'clock the next morning, 
 
 u 2
 
 292 MILLICENT. 
 
 the breakfast things were all cleared away, and 
 the butler, after replacing the chairs, and sur- 
 veying the room professionally, glided out 
 with the crumb brush in his hand. Kate was 
 standing by the fire alone, in her favourite 
 position, with her elbow resting on the broad, 
 low mantel shelf, and her foot on the edge of 
 the fender. To judge from the direction of 
 her eyes, she must have been deeply lost in 
 admiring the shape of her boot ; but Kate's 
 eyes, in this instance, told false ; she was 
 thinking of herself in comparison of Millicent, 
 and wondering how their young governess 
 could endure all her trials so patiently, while 
 she could not submit to the smallest restraint. 
 At last, she exclaimed to herself — "I have 
 discovered the reason — it is religion, 'the sun- 
 shine of the soul,' that sustains and helps her. 
 I wish, I too, possessed this religious influ- 
 ence!" It was the first time Kate had 
 earnestly experienced this desire. She had 
 often longed to be as good as Mr. Seymour, 
 but, then, it was not for the sake of his 
 goodness only, but that she might please
 
 MILLICENT. 293 
 
 him; now, she felt an earnest desire for 
 Millicent's faith, and she determined to watch 
 her closely, and try to discover how she ob- 
 tained this faith and strength ; and, without 
 knowing it, Millicent became henceforward 
 Kate's guiding star. 
 
 While these thoughts were passing through 
 Kate's mind, Mrs. Robertson came in from the 
 servants' offices, with a leather box in her 
 hand, containing keys, bills, purse, and num- 
 berless small things she carried with her in 
 the morning. Kate knew the ratthng of this 
 box well, and looked up when her mother 
 came in. Mrs. Eobertson approached the fire, 
 wearing much the aspect of a person who had 
 made up their mind for something disagree- 
 able. 
 
 "You are quite alone, Kate," began her 
 mother. 
 
 " Yes, Mamma," she replied, wondering 
 what was coming next. 
 
 " Has Miss Thornville gone out yet ?" 
 
 "I am sure I do not know, Mamma ; I 
 never trouble myself about the children."
 
 294 MILLICENT. 
 
 ^' I know that," said Mrs. Kobertson ; "but 
 I thought you were aware of all Miss Thorn- 
 ville^s movements." 
 
 " I do not understand you, Mamma/' re- 
 plied Kate, hastily. 
 
 " I wanted to tell you again I think you 
 are much too intimate with Miss Thornville ; 
 you seem to forget entirely she is a governess." 
 
 "I never forget that," replied Kate, the 
 colour mounting to her cheeks ; "I remember, 
 besides, what others seem to forget, that she 
 is an orphan, and, though poor the equal of 
 any one in Staplehurst ; and, because she is 
 nobly fulfilling a post which every one cruelly 
 despises, therefore, I honour and respect 
 her." 
 
 Mrs. Eobertson studiously averted her face 
 from Kate, and said hurriedly — " You have 
 quite mistaken ideas on the subject ; I only 
 hope you will not express them before our 
 friends — I should not say this, if I did not 
 think it right." 
 
 "I am not ashamed of anjrthing I do or 
 say," replied Kate, pressing her rings tightly
 
 MILLICENT. 295 
 
 against her fingers ; " I am quite sui'e my 
 friends' views agree with my own." 
 
 '' You are perfectly wrong there, Kate ; you 
 heard what Mrs. Conway and IVIrs. Pearson said, 
 only a few days before Miss Thornyille came, 
 about not making too much of governesses." 
 " Mrs. Conway's or Mrs. Pearson's opinions 
 do not influence me," replied Kate scornfully ; 
 " I have my own opinions on every subject, and 
 do not copy, like a parrot, every contemptible 
 person I meet ; but if I mmt have the same 
 ideas as other people, the Seymours coincide 
 with me ; and Mr. Seymour himself asked me 
 to be kind to our governess, which I certainly 
 should have been on my own account : money 
 never can or will make a lady, and !Miss 
 Thomville is quite as lady-like, occupying an 
 unfortunate a position as our governess, as 
 when at Heatherton, and heiress to thousands." 
 *' But for all that, she shall never be con- 
 nected with oiu" family while I can prevent it," 
 exclaimed Mrs. Eobertson. 
 
 ^^ I do not understand you, Jiamma," said 
 Kate, looking at her mother in surprise.
 
 296 MILLICENT. 
 
 " I hope she will have more sense than to 
 continue flirting after all I have said to her ; 
 though your influence would effect a great deal 
 on them both/^ 
 
 " Mamma/' said Kate, " this is all inexpli- 
 cable to me." 
 
 ^^Poor Tom," continued Mrs. Robertson, 
 not heeding her ; " the idea of his being sacri- 
 ficed to a governess, and you encouraging it 
 too ; nothing short of this would make me 
 speak." 
 
 For a minute, Kate stared in surprise, and 
 then, scarcely suppressing a smile, she said — 
 " You have by some means become possessed 
 of an idea, as absurd as it is incorrect. What 
 can have induced you to think I wished to 
 make up a match between Miss Thornville and 
 Tom ; — ^really. Mamma, it is a perfect enigma 
 to me where it could have originated." 
 
 Kate never deviated from the truth, not 
 even in fun ; so Mrs. Robertson did not know 
 what to think ; but she presently said — ^' Well, 
 Kate, perhaps you may not really want to 
 make up a match ; I hope it has not come to
 
 MILLICENT. 297 
 
 that yet ; but Kate, are you not encoui'aging 
 Tom's attentions, and making Miss Thornville 
 believe he admired her even the first night 
 they met?" 
 
 Kate's face became crimson — "I see, 
 Mamma, where this originates; fi:om an in- 
 correct report my sister has brought you, of 
 what she overheard last night, when she 
 played the honourable and lady-like part of 
 listener outside my room." 
 
 " Clara was not listening," said Mrs. Eobert- 
 son, nervously. 
 
 '' I suppose. Mamma," replied Kate, coldly, 
 " you will not believe me, but I can assure 
 you no word or idea of attention or match- 
 making between Miss Thornville and Tom, or 
 indeed any one, has passed between us, so 
 pray, spare her the pain of hearing about any- 
 thing so disagreeable." 
 
 " I am very sorry if I was mistaken," Mrs. 
 Robertson began. 
 
 " I am not at all. Mamma," said Kate sar- 
 castically ; " I see now how good an opinion 
 you have of me, and what full belief you give
 
 298 MILLICENT. 
 
 to all Clara reports to have overheard. I am 
 obliged, Mamma, for your explanation;" and 
 Kate walked in stately dignity from the 
 room. 
 
 Poor Mrs. Eobertson stood still for some 
 minutes after her daughter's departure, longing 
 to recal that disagreeable half hour ; she had 
 been mistaken, and made Kate angry, by ac- 
 cusing her falsely, and she determined to 
 adhere for the future to a resolution she had 
 formerly made, of never disputing with Kate 
 on any occasion ; but she still felt inclined to 
 blame Millicent as the cause of the alterca- 
 tion.
 
 MILLICENT. 299 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 * Oh ! many are the mansions there, 
 But not in one hath grief a share ; 
 No haunting shade from things gone by, 
 May there o'ersweep the unchanging sky.' 
 
 Hemans. 
 
 Lord Fortescue found Mr. Seymour's good 
 advice of great benefit to him ; for, what with 
 the superintendence of his church, the care of 
 his tenantry, and the repairs on his grounds, 
 there was little or no time to spare for gloomy 
 reminiscences or forebodings; this new life 
 of landowner was an agreeable one, as it 
 afforded plenty of pleasant work for the mind, 
 and also for his active charity ; and all his 
 dependants felt his return among them a bles- 
 sing, and looked up to their young lord with a 
 feeling of reverence and homage. Every day
 
 300 MILLICENT. 
 
 was Lord Fortescue to be seen about his estate, 
 now stopping his horse to have a pleasant 
 word with a farmer, and then hearing the tale 
 of some poor labourer, whose cottage he 
 would immediately visit, and inquire carefullj 
 into the cause of distress, which in most in- 
 stances was too true — for, during his long 
 minority, the tenantry had been sadly neg- 
 lected, and but for Mr. Seymour, they would 
 have had no friend to visit or assist them. At 
 first, the young rector, with his usual energy, 
 had made memorandums of the causes of 
 distress, and forwarded them to the late lord, 
 who generally attended to Mr. Seymours 
 statements, and ordered relief to the tenantry ; 
 hut this lasted only a short time, for when the 
 whole family left Ashburton for the continent, 
 Mr. Seymour found himself with the entire 
 responsibility on his hands ; conscientiously 
 did he manage his pastoral duties, as the poor 
 were ready to testify ; for, from every cottage 
 fire -side, voices rose loud and earnest in love 
 and praises for their beloved rector. All this 
 was extremely gratifying to Lord Fortescue,
 
 MILLICENT. 301 
 
 whose affection for his cousin almost exceeded 
 theirSj and when he heard the words of 
 thankfulness fi'om many lips, where the poverty 
 was extreme, he lifted up his heart in earnest 
 thanks, that of his abundance he was per- 
 mitted to minister to the wants of the dis- 
 tressed. The church was nearly finished, and 
 he intended having it consecrated in May, but 
 an obstacle suddenly presented itself. The 
 clergyman whom he proposed nominating had 
 formerly been Lord Fortescue's tutor at Ox- 
 ford, but on the death of a clerical relative, had 
 come into possession of a rich London living ; 
 so Lord Fortescue had again to seek an in- 
 cumbent ; and after many journeys, and a 
 great deal of consulting with Mr. Seymour, 
 shortly before Easter, he succeeded in obtain- 
 ing a clergyman every way suited to under- 
 take the little district. 
 
 During all this time, Lord Fortescue had 
 not met Millicent ; though he had frequently 
 visited the Eobertsons, had practised with 
 Kate, and attended their musical soirees ; but, 
 to his surprise and disappointment, Miss
 
 302 MILLICEIST. 
 
 Thornville never appeared. He, of course, 
 did not know the arguments and battles Kate 
 had with her mamma about their governess, 
 and how firmly Mrs. Robertson refused to 
 allow her to join their circle after dinner ; nor 
 how, at last, Kate was induced, for peace and 
 quietness sake, to yield her point ; and that, 
 to compensate in some degree to Millicent for 
 this treatment, she spent as much of every 
 evening as she possibly could with the neg- 
 lected girl. 
 
 But Lord Fortescue did fancy Millicent had 
 trials, though he knew not how severe they 
 were ; he had noticed each Sunday, with 
 regret, as she came to and fi:'om her pew, 
 the expression of care and anxiety that 
 clouded her lovely brow, and that she looked 
 thin and pale ; and he thought of his beloved 
 mother, who had faded day by day, and whom 
 Millicent so strongly resembled ; and he longed 
 to meet her again, and hold intercourse with 
 one whose strikmg likeness to this treasured 
 memory of his heart had a peculiar fascination 
 over him; and each Sabbath, as Arthur
 
 MILLICEXT. 303 
 
 watched her come down the aisle in her 
 mourning dress, this longing increased. 
 
 Some relations of Mrs, Eobertson, who were 
 staying at Torquay, had sent an invitation to 
 the whole family to pass a few weeks there 
 with them at Easter. Mr. Delamere, ]\Irs. 
 Robertson's uncle, who was rural dean of a 
 northern county, had married the daughter of 
 a baronet, and Mrs. Eobertson was not a little 
 proud of this connection, and extremely flat- 
 tered by the Delameres' invitation to join them 
 at Torquay. It never once entered her mind, 
 when she was making preparations for their 
 visit, how dull poor Millicent, who was not 
 included, would be, left alone with the care of 
 that large house ; but Kate thought a great 
 deal about leaving her, although she doubted 
 if MiUicent would not be happier alone than 
 in the midst of the family circle, where every- 
 thing was made so disagreeable to her. On 
 the Sunday before Easter, Mr. Robertson took 
 the children with him to visit some friends 
 who lived at a short distance from the Park ; 
 Mrs. Robertson and Clara remained at home ;
 
 304 MILLICENT. 
 
 and, for the first time, Millicent was able to 
 accompany Kate to the afternoon service. She 
 enjoyed this extremely ; the perfect quiet — 
 the absence from all annoyance — and, above 
 all, the society of her dear Kate, made her 
 feel happier than she often did, novvr. Lord 
 Fortescue was at church, and saw with plea- 
 sure Miss ^Robertson and Millicent come in 
 alone : he would at last be able to speak to 
 her — and when the service was over, he joined 
 them in the church porch- 
 
 " I hear you are going to desert us. Miss 
 Robertson ? " he said, as they walked across 
 the churchyard. 
 
 ^' Yes," she replied, *' we ^re going to Tor- 
 quay; but our stay will not be very long." 
 
 ^' Do you intend calling at the Rectory this 
 afternoon ? " Lord Fortescue asked, as they 
 arrived at the gate. 
 
 ''Yes," said Kate; "I want Miss Thorn- 
 ville to see Mrs. Seymour ; she has not visited 
 her for some time." 
 
 They all three went into the Rectory, and 
 when Mr. Sevmour came home, after a chris-
 
 MILLICENT. 305 
 
 tening, lie found them in earnest conversation 
 about watering-places and favourite summer 
 resorts. 
 
 " Have you been to Torquay before, Miss 
 Thomville ?" he asked. 
 
 "I am not going," replied MiUicent, 
 colouring. 
 
 " Not going, my dear?" said Mrs. Seymour; 
 " you will be extremely duU alone. Well, 
 you must come very often to us." 
 
 ^' I was thinking," said MiUicent, " of going 
 to Heatherton, to see my old nurse ; but it is 
 scarcely worth while to make such a long journey 
 when I can remaiQ only a short time there." 
 
 " I cannot bear the idea of leaving her," 
 said Kate. ^' MiUicent is not a heroine, under 
 any cuxumstances, and it wiU make me mise- 
 rable to think of her soUtary wandering about 
 our deserted rooms." 
 
 ^^ Oh, it wUl not be quite so bad as that, 
 Kate," repHed MUUcent, smiling. 
 
 "But why not come and remain with us 
 altogether, whUe they are absent ?" asked Mr. 
 Seymour. 
 
 VOL. I. X
 
 306 MILLICENT. 
 
 '' Ah, do, dear,'' said his mother; '^we shall 
 be so pleased to have you ; and then,'' she 
 added, " Kate, you need not be anxious about 
 her." 
 
 ''It will be a real kindness to us both," 
 replied Kate, immediately catching at a pro- 
 position that would afford Millicent pleasure. 
 
 '' It is so very kind," said Millicent ; '' and 
 nothing could be more delightful." 
 
 " Well, then. Miss Thornville, we shall ex- 
 pect you on Wednesday," said Mr. Seymour. 
 '' I believe that is the day you leave us, is it 
 not. Miss Robertson ?" 
 
 '' Yes, we leave in the afternoon ; but I will 
 drive Millicent round in the pony-chair in the 
 morning, and then I shaU make sui'e of her 
 being quite safe. Do you know," Kate added, 
 smiling, " I feel this child quite a responsi- 
 bility on my hands ?" 
 
 Lord Fortescue, though he did not say so, 
 thought it a delightful one, and only wished he 
 might help Kate in her care. This arrange- 
 ment of Millicent's remaining at the Rectory 
 would be most pleasant: he might then see
 
 MILLICENT. 307 
 
 her frequently, and he hoped she would be 
 happier for a holiday spent in the Seymours' 
 agreeable society. 
 
 " I should like you to see my new church. 
 Miss Thornville," he said, ^^ and Mary can 
 show you her favourite path through the cow- 
 slip dell." 
 
 ^' Yes, and the wild hyacinths," added Mary, 
 clapping her hands ; " Oh, Miss Thornville, I 
 am so glad ; but won't you come too, Aunt 
 Katie?" said the little girl, coaxingly. 
 
 " I will take plenty of walks with you, dar- 
 ling, when I come home again," replied Kate, 
 taking her on her lap, " and then the summer 
 will be near ; besides, I will bring you all sorts 
 of pretty shells and sea-weed, when I return : 
 mil you not like that ?" 
 
 **Yes, Aunt Katie, very much; but," she 
 added, '' I love you better." 
 
 Kate bent down and kissed her fondly, and 
 Mary continued — " Next to Papa and Granny, 
 I love you best." 
 
 " Mary is very open in her affection," said 
 Lord Fortescue, laughing. 
 
 X 2
 
 308 MILLICENT. 
 
 '' Kate lias a right to a large share of Mary's 
 love, for she was one of her first friends ; and, 
 besides, she is her godmamma," said Mrs. Sey- 
 mour. 
 
 " Millicent will enjoy some walks with you, 
 Mary,'' said Kate ; ^^ she has scarcely seen 
 anything of Staplehurst beyond the village." 
 
 " We will show Miss Thorn ville all the won- 
 ders of our neighbourhood ; it is to be hoped 
 you are a good pedestrian," said Mr. Seymour. 
 
 ^^ Oh yes, I am a capital walker," replied 
 Millicent ; though she did not just then look 
 capable of a great deal of exertion ; there was 
 a languid air and anxious expression on her 
 countenance, which Mrs. Seymour seemed to 
 observe ; for she said — ^^ I must not have you 
 over exert yourself, my dear ; Mr. Seymour 
 would walk all day long, and never be tired 
 going about his parish ; but you do not look 
 very strong, my dear, and I shall not give my 
 sanction to very long walks." 
 
 *^ Oh, I assure you, Mrs. Se}Tnour, I am 
 very well," said Millicent, ^' and I can walk 
 several miles without being in the least tired."
 
 MILLICENT. 309 
 
 " Never mind, dear," replied Mrs. Seymour, 
 smiling, " old heads are wiser than young ones ; 
 you shall see enough of Staplehurst to make 
 you like it; there is not a sweeter spot in 
 England." 
 
 "You are quite right, Aunt," said Lord 
 Fortescue; "our hills and meadows rival any 
 I have ever seen ; since I have returned to the 
 Chase, I have found myself constantly repeat- 
 ing the old song — 
 
 ' Home, sweet home, 
 
 There is no place like home.' 
 
 And no one can love their home more than I 
 do ; there is a charm in the very word — all 
 the chords of the sweetest music seem to unite 
 in that single syllable ! " He spoke very^ hur- 
 riedly^ and the tears came into his eyes. 
 
 " If homes on earth are so sweet, what must 
 homes in glory be ? " observed Mr. Seymour. 
 
 " Oh, they will be transcendent," exclaimed 
 Lord Fortescue, at once entering into the 
 subject ; "for there we shall have such happy 
 re-unions with our beloved relatives — no more
 
 310 MILLICENT. 
 
 sorrow or sighing — Oh, the thought is almost too 
 much ! " he said, passing his hand across his 
 brow. 
 
 ^^ A white-robed multitude, singing of glory, 
 will welcome us," said Mr. Seymour, continu- 
 ing the subject. 
 
 ^' ^.nd the bright angel-faces that will meet 
 us there on the shores of the blessed," added 
 Lord Fortescue, " ' where the wicked cease 
 from troubling, and the weary are at rest.' — 
 Do you know, Everard, your first sermon, the 
 Sunday after the ordination, made a vivid im- 
 pression on me ; and, though thu-teen long 
 years full of events, some bitter enough to 
 obliterate any such reminiscences, have passed 
 away, still that description you gave from 
 your father's pulpit, of the entrance of a saint 
 into heaven, and the reception of the angels 
 with crowns, and the harpers harping upon 
 their harps, is to this day indelibly impressed 
 upon my memory." 
 
 "" That sermon must have been very beauti- 
 ful," said Kate, "for I have heard my uncle 
 Delamere, who was staying at Staplehurst at
 
 MILLICENT. 311 
 
 the time, often speak of it ; he admu-ed the 
 composition so much." 
 
 " It was not the composition, but the sub- 
 ject, which impressed the hearers," observed 
 Mr. Seymour ; ^' it is the one on which I most 
 delight to dwell ; and Heaven is a theme on 
 which we kindle and grow warm — the more it 
 is entered upon, the more glorious it becomes." 
 
 '^ I think the most beautiful piece of music 
 I ever heard," said jMillicent, timidly, " was 
 from Pearson's Oratorio of ' Jerusalem' — 
 ^ These are they which came out of great 
 tribulation ; ' when sung with feeling, it gives 
 a nearer idea of what we may imagine the 
 music of angels, than any other I have met 
 with." 
 
 " I know it well," replied Mr. Seymour ; 
 '^ and I perfectly agree with you — the words 
 are surpassingly beautiful, and the music well 
 adapted to them." 
 
 " You make me long to hear it," said Lord 
 Fortescue. ^' Miss Thornville, you play so 
 much by heart, could you try to remember this ?" 
 
 MilHcent took off her gloves, and untying
 
 312 MILLICENT. 
 
 her bonnet, laid it on the sofa, saying — " I 
 think I know it, but I hope you will excuse any 
 mistakes — it is some time now since I sang it.'* 
 
 Lord Fortescue opened the piano, and stood 
 by her side, while she sat down quietly and 
 sang the beautiM words. The music was, 
 indeed, exquisite, and the effect was certainly 
 increased by the sweet, clear voice of the 
 singer. Millicent did not perform with great 
 execution — she never sang difficult music — but 
 for taste, and a peculiar thrilling sweetness, 
 few could surpass her, and there was such a 
 perfect absence of self, and absorbing of aD 
 thought and interest for the time in her music, 
 which rendered her singing very fascinating. 
 When it was ended, they rose to take leave, 
 and Lord Fortescue offered to accompany Miss 
 Robertson and Millicent home, and as they 
 walked together, he said, " It is a great delight 
 to have the Rectory to visit, and feel sure of 
 being always welcome; I do not know what 
 I should do without Everard." 
 
 " I do not know what we should any of us 
 do without him," replied Kate, hurriedly.
 
 MILLICENT. 313 
 
 " We should not think of doing without 
 our treasures, but rejoice that we possess 
 them," observed Millicent. 
 
 " That is just like Mr. Seymour," said 
 Kate, smiling ; '' but, Millicent, do look at 
 those wild anemones — you were only speaking 
 of them this morning." 
 
 Lord Fortescue was immediately on the 
 other side of the bank, and, gathering a large 
 bunch of the flowers, he divided them between 
 the two girls. 
 
 '^I hope you are happy now, Millicent," 
 said Katie ; " you have been wishing " 
 
 " For some of my dear Heatherton flowers, 
 these will serve to remind me of them ; but, 
 Katie, do bring me plenty of sea-weed from 
 Torquay — I quite long for some trophies of the 
 sea." 
 
 "Treasures of the deep," said Katie; "I 
 will bring you shells and star-fish to your 
 heart's content, and I am sure the children 
 will be only too charmed to fill up eveiy little 
 comer of their boxes with reminiscences of 
 Torquay."
 
 314 MILLICENT. 
 
 ' the sea, the sea, the lone, lone sea ! 
 With its rolling waves so dear to me. 
 Its coral, its weeds, and wild bird's cry, 
 And mermaid's song, a sweet lullaby. 
 
 Should years be mine to wander and roam. 
 The wide sea-shore shall still be my home ; 
 The white floating sails, the tow'ring mast. 
 These are the sights I'll love to the last. 
 
 Oh give me the sea, my heart is there, 
 
 In tempest and storm, sunshine and fair ; 
 
 Birthplace and cradle still it shall be. 
 
 Home of my choice, while dwelling with thee !' 
 
 Lord Fortescue repeated these lines quietly, 
 and as if to himself; but, when he paused, 
 Katie said — 
 
 '^ I will venture to guess the composer ot 
 those verses." 
 
 He smiled — and Kate continued, playfully — 
 
 " They are your own ; you improvised them 
 too — plead guilty, Lord Fortescue ?" 
 
 " I must, I suppose. Miss Robertson ; I 
 shall be more careful for the future, how I take 
 a little flight on my Pegasus, when you are in 
 the way." 
 
 " Whenever any one speaks of Pegasus," 
 said Millicent, '^ I always think of ' Die 
 Abassiden.' "
 
 MILLICEXT. 315 
 
 " Oh, jes — the poor Graf von Platen's 
 * Abassiden,' " rephed Lord Fortescue ; "it 
 begms — 
 
 ' Ich moclite wieder wie ein junger Schwarmer, 
 Auf meinem Pegasus ein bischen reiten, 
 Doch, da die Zeit betrlibter ist und armer, 
 Doch mcicht ich flieh'n auf fabelhaften Zeiten.' 
 
 "It is very well for you two to quote Ger- 
 man/' said Kate ; " but pray remember 1 do 
 not understand a word." 
 
 " I will translate ' Die Abassiden' for your 
 edification," replied Lord Fortescue ; "I have 
 been thinking, Miss Eobertson, what delight- 
 fill days we might make out of doors this 
 summer — you ladies could draw and work, 
 and I could read to you." 
 
 " I should enjoy it amazingly ; and then 
 you shall certainly treat us to that wonderful 
 German story — what style is it in ? " 
 
 " Eesembling the * Arabian Nights/ " re- 
 plied Lord Fortescue. " Mais vous voila an 
 chateau ; so, fair ladies, I must bid you 
 adieu." 
 
 " No, you must come in," said Kate.
 
 316 MILLICENT. 
 
 " Thank you, I really cannot ; I have pro- 
 mised to spend the evening with my aunt, 
 and I must not spoil her tea by keeping it 
 waiting ; therefore, au revoir.'^ 
 
 When Millicent returned to the school-room, 
 she did not feel dull, as usual ; she had some- 
 thing agreeable to think of — and, instead of 
 the prospect of being entirely alone at the 
 Park, she looked forward to a cheerful time 
 with the Seymours ; and, could they have 
 heard her expressions of delight, and known 
 her little fireside reveries of glad anticipation, 
 they would have rejoiced at being the means 
 of sending happiness into the orphan's heart. 
 Millicent told Mrs. Eobertson of the invitation, 
 but she made no remark, except to give her 
 permission, so that Millicent could scarcely 
 tell if she were glad or sorry ; but that did 
 not trouble her — she was thinking so much oi 
 the pleasure in store, which was increased by 
 its being so unexpected. 
 
 Since the scene at luncheon, Tom had been 
 quieter when Miss Thornville was present. The 
 fact was, he feared, if he went too far, the re-
 
 MILLICENT. 317 
 
 suit ol his folly would be her dismissal, and the 
 thought of that, Tom could not bear ; he was 
 decidedly smitten with tlie pretty governess, 
 quite as much in his way as Lord Fortescue, 
 but he had tact enough to see that as she was 
 so reserved and quiet to him, the best way to 
 please her would be, to behave quietly also ; 
 though Tom's efforts at sedateness were cer- 
 tainly rather droll. There was a decided im- 
 provement in the children, which ^Irs. Eobert- 
 son noticed, though she praised them, not 
 their governess ; but good Mr. Eobertson took 
 care to thank Millicent on Sunday evening, 
 the only opportunity he had of speaking to 
 her unheard by his wife, whose lectures he 
 rather feared, for her care and attention of his 
 ' httle people,' as he usually called them ; and 
 at these times, and when she was enjoy iug 
 Kate's society, she felt that though Mrs. Ro- 
 bertson and Clara's unkindness was very diffi- 
 cult to beai', stm there was much to counter- 
 balance it ; and she seldom or ever thought of 
 leaving Staplehurst to seek another home. 
 It was very bright and sunny on the Wed-
 
 318 MILLICENT. 
 
 nesday morning when Millicent came down, 
 dressed for her drive to the Rectory; the 
 pony-chair was at the door, and Kate pulling 
 on her driving-gloves ; Tom was there also, 
 standing on the hall-steps, looking at Price 
 putting Millicent's portmanteau in the back of 
 the chaise. 
 
 "So you are going, Miss Thorn ville ? '' he 
 exclaimed, " and very glad you must be to 
 get rid of those little torments." 
 
 " No, I am not," she replied, "but holidays 
 are agreeable now and then, and I expect a 
 happy Easter." 
 
 " That is more than I do," said Tom, " you 
 will hear of me dying of a broken heart, before 
 long, though you will not care about it ; oh, 
 we poor men are entirely at your mercy, and 
 pretty hard upon us you ladies are ! " — 
 
 "You seem very miserable this morning, 
 Tom," said Kate. 
 
 " Indeed I am, Katie, but where are you 
 going ? " he exclaimed. 
 
 " I am only going to drive Miss Thornville 
 down to the Rectory," she said, as she got into 
 the pony-chair.
 
 MILLICENT. 319 
 
 " You had better let me drive, I will do it in 
 style," replied Tom. 
 
 ^' I should be rather afraid you would upset 
 us into the nearest ditch," observed Millicent. 
 
 " Upset you^ Miss Thorn ville ! now that is 
 too bad, it is not enough to part, but you must 
 do it unkindly." 
 
 '^ Are you ready, Millicent?" asked Kate. 
 
 " Yes, perfectly — oh, no, I have forgotten 
 my shawl." — 
 
 " Tom, fetch Miss Thornville's shawl," said 
 Kate, "it is on the hall table." 
 
 Tom brought it quickly, and, looking at 
 MiUicent, said, in a piteous tone, ''You will 
 not give me one smile before you go. Upon 
 my word, it is enough to diive a fellow mad 1" 
 
 " That will do, Tom," said Kate, impa- 
 tiently ; and, flourishing her whip over the 
 pony, they drove off, and Tom remained on 
 the steps, waving his hand to them. 
 
 " You will write to me often, will you not, 
 Katie," said Millicent, ''and give me a de- 
 scription of aU you see ?" 
 
 '' And send you a small series of pictured
 
 320 MILLICENT. 
 
 letter paper," replied Kate, smiling, "with 
 views of the churches, beach, &c/' 
 
 " Yes ; and, in retui^n," said Millicent, 
 laughing, " I must keep a minute journal of 
 all that goes on at Staplehurst during your 
 absence ; I shall have plenty of time to 
 spare." 
 
 " I think you will be glad of a little rest ; 
 I was becoming anxious, and I fancied you 
 were growing pale." 
 
 *^ You must not be fidgetty about me, dear 
 Kate ; I shall be perfectly well and happy,*" 
 
 " Oh, happy, certainly you could not be 
 otherwise. But we have not been long coming; 
 and here is the gardener, — I will get him to 
 hold Fairy, while I run in and say good-bye." 
 
 Kate remained a very short time at the 
 liectory ; and, after receiving many good 
 wishes for her journey, she returned to the 
 impatient pony, and soon disappeared down 
 the Church-lane. 
 
 END OF VOL. I. 
 
 printed by charles eevan and son, 
 street's evildtnos, chapel street, GROSVENOR SQVARE.