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 STEYNEVILLE; 
 
 OR, 
 
 FATED FORTUNES. 
 
 Being the Memoirs of an Unextraordinary Man. 
 
 IN THREE VOLUMES. 
 BY 
 
 HELENE E. A. GINGOLD. 
 
 " 'Tis more by fortune than by merit.'* 
 
 Shakespeare. 
 
 But who can turn the stream of destiny ?" 
 
 Spensek. 
 
 VOL. I. 
 
 LONDON : 
 
 REMINGTON & CO., PUBLISHERS, 
 
 HENRIETTA STREET, COVENT GARDEN. 
 
 1885. 
 [All. Ri.iilits Reseri:ed.}
 
 
 i 
 r 
 
 1 
 
 N 
 
 4. 
 
 V, I 
 
 TO MY KINSMAN, 
 
 THE CHEVALIEK S. DE SULZER, K.F.J., ETC., ETC., 
 
 THESE VOLUMES ARE INSCRIBED, 
 
 _ AS A HUMBLE TOKEN 
 
 -J- OP THE AFFECTION, ESTEEM AND ADMIRATION, 
 
 IN WHICH HE AND HIS GENIUS ARE HELD 
 
 BY 
 
 '^ THE AUTHOE.
 
 APOLOGUE. 
 
 Once there lived a man who, after many hn- 
 deavours, built a cockleshell of a boat — a boat 
 so puny and weak, that he feared to venture 
 it on the waves lest it would sink. 
 
 *' Why, didn't you build something more 
 substantial ? '' inquired a friend. 
 
 " Because I hadn't sufficient material," 
 responded the craftsman, despondingly. 
 " Would you advise me to launch the frail 
 thing?" 
 
 " Now she's built she may as well tempt 
 fate. Believe me, she stands more than a 
 fair chance to go under."
 
 ii APOLOGUE. 
 
 Thus speaking, tlie comforter walked away. 
 
 Our craftsman, however, still sat by the sea 
 shore day after day, watching with longing 
 eyes the launching of other men's vessels, and 
 saw these sail away across the ocean, and after 
 a time return to their owners laden with grain. 
 Despair at last prompted : " Small ships sail 
 as well as big ones, nay, even ride over those 
 waves which buffet the big ones. Besides, 
 she's no use in harbour." Thus determined, 
 he filled his vessel with a small quantity of 
 every kind of spice, and anxiously launched 
 his venture — vowing it would be his last if 
 the waves swallowed it up. Poor devil ! his 
 heart and soul were at work when he built 
 the ship, and though he saw her faults when 
 she was completed, the thought of seeing that 
 which he loved wrecked and spoiled, troubled 
 him. 
 
 No sooner was she fairly on the waters 
 when the cold wind of Censure howled, " I 
 am coming," and the heavy breaker Eidicule 
 caught up the refrain, and surged, *' So am
 
 APOLOGUE. iii 
 
 I." " Take care,*' warned the hidden rocks 
 of Cape Critical, " we'll perforate you." " 0, 
 my poor little boat," groaned the man, and he 
 turned his head aside that he should not see 
 the collapse of his work. 
 
 The vessel lost to sight, his friend again 
 appeared, and demanded, ''What troubles 
 you ? Where's the boat ? " 
 
 " Gone ! Do you think she will ever come 
 back to me ? " 
 
 " How on earth can I tell ? " said the other, 
 kindly ; " why should I care — " 
 
 " Dear friend," quoth the craftsman, hesi- 
 tatingly, ''didn't you advise me? I but 
 vaguely recollect the conversation — " 
 
 " 0, don't incriminate me ! What if she 
 does go down? Isn't that a proof of her un- 
 seaworthiness ? You might have put her 
 under a glass case — " 
 
 " That will do — I understand !" interrupted 
 the shipbuilder more cheerfully ; " everything 
 is worth as much as it gets ! " 
 
 " Besides,"quoth the friend, confidentially,
 
 iv APOLOGUE, 
 
 as they adjourned to a neighbouring tavern, 
 '^ isn't there plenty of timber about where- 
 with you might build another and a stronger 
 vessel ? " 
 
 "Yes, if I take some of my neighbour's 
 materials," observed the craftsman, honestly 
 indignant. 
 
 " Well ; it's done every day," remarked his 
 friend. 
 
 " True ! ' ' And our craftsman was resigned.
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 I SHALL commence my tale, or history, from 
 the time when I first began to take notice and 
 think of the things which I saw about me. At 
 five years of age I could pronounce my name, 
 " Harold Steyneville," distinctly, and knew 
 that only one of my parents was alive — my 
 father. How well I remember him ! He was 
 of medium height, well proportioned, with a 
 countenance that must have been very hand- 
 some once, for his features were fine still, 
 although he was past fifty. His was a face 
 pervaded by an ineffable melancholy ; he very 
 rarely smiled, and when I had attained the 
 age of eight years, I saw that when he looked 
 into my eyes, as I sat on his knee, he ap- 
 peared to become even more sorrowful and 
 melancholy than before. I was his only 
 VOL. I. B
 
 2 STEYNEVILLE; 
 
 child, whom lie fondly loved, whom he taught, 
 caressed, and played with, although he but 
 seldom laughed when he gamed with me. He 
 held me in his arms when I was tired, and 
 looked on me with his dark, inscrutable eyes, 
 seeming to search for something he could not 
 find. He never mentioned my mother's name 
 to me ; but when we were out walking, and I 
 saw children of my own age trotting by the 
 side of women, who looked tenderly on their 
 little ones, I would ask, " Father, dear, did 
 / never have a mother ? " 
 
 After a time I could see, child as I was, 
 that the question was positively painful to 
 him, and so I refrained from asking it any 
 more, although I pondered over the matter, 
 and wondered why I did not have that which 
 other children did. 
 
 We lived in a great, bleak house ; so 
 bleak, indeed, that in summer most of the 
 rooms were chill enough to have fires in 
 them. It stood in a good-sized track of 
 land, whereon grew high trees which never 
 seemed to possess enough foliage to cover 
 them up comfortably like the others. Ours 
 was a weird and wild garden, long run to 
 seed, where the only green that flourished
 
 OR, FATED FORTUNES. 3 
 
 on the soil to greet the sight was weed; 
 where the buds never blossomed into full- 
 blown flowers, but died away in their in- 
 fancy; where the grass never grew high 
 and green, but withered away as it sprung 
 from the earth as if the place were affected by 
 blight, or beneath a curse. A piece of water 
 that had once been an ornamental lake was 
 in the midst of this wilderness, but it was 
 now stagnant, and tall ugly weeds threw 
 ghostly shadows on its surface. 
 
 We were not rich, but the Steynevilles 
 were a noble race, and dated far back to a 
 most remote region of antiquity. The man- 
 sion in which we lived had been first occupied 
 by Henri de Steyneville two hundred years 
 ago, and he dubbed it "Steyneville," and so 
 it was called ever since; very justly too, for 
 it was stoney by nature as well as by name."^ 
 Our staff of servants consisted of two — man 
 and wife — who had both been in my father's 
 employ for the space of fifteen years, and 
 they were both very much attached to us. 
 Indeed, Batty and Birch were models of in- 
 dustry and goodness. I verily believe the 
 
 * Steyne being a corruption of stein, the German for stone. 
 The Steynevilles were somewhat of a cosmo-political race.
 
 4 STEYNEVILLE. 
 
 latter would have jumped into tbe fire had 
 my father bidden him to perform such an act. 
 But his devotion was never taxed quite so far. 
 As for Batty, her affection and admiration 
 for me was so extravagant that even now I 
 blush to think of it. Nothing was too good 
 for Master Harold — nothing too fine. ''To 
 be sure," the honest soul would say, '' the 
 blessed young master when he grows up 
 will make the lonely old place gay again, 
 and we shall have grand doings here, too. 
 Ah," she generally wound up by adding, 
 shaking her head all the while retrospec- 
 tively, " I mind the time when Steyneville 
 Hall was Liberty Hall, and I don't know 
 what all, but that'll all come back again when 
 the sweet young master brings home the lovely 
 princess which Heaven is a-going to send 
 a-purpose to be his wedded wife." I listened 
 to the above harangue quite confident of its 
 truth, applaudiug Batty on her powers of 
 prognostication . 
 
 When I attained the years of discretion, 
 I would quietly laugh at her speeches con- 
 cerning the glory I would possess when a 
 man, without troubling myself to work for 
 it like other men.
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 i HAVE mentioned before that my father was 
 my only instructor, but he was so clever, and 
 I so apt and greedy for learning, that at the 
 age of nine I already knew as much as latis 
 of twice my years. Not only was I advanced 
 in the study of three or four sciences, but I 
 spoke French and German fluently; rode 
 well, fenced better, and wrote execrable 
 Latin verses. Although this may appear 
 to be very precocious in a lad of my age, 
 the fact is not very wonderful when one 
 considers that almost the whole time of 
 a clever man was spent in instructing a 
 naturally quick child. But for all my learn- 
 ing I must say I never lost a child's ways, 
 and loved a romp, a scramble, or a climb 
 as much as anyone, particularly when accom-
 
 6 STEYNEVILLE; 
 
 panied by a companion some few years 
 older both in mischief as in body. This 
 was Sydney Noel, Viscount Stapleton, a 
 curly-pated, oval-faced youth, who looked 
 so thoughtful and dreamy that none would 
 ever have guessed that it was he who sucked 
 the eggs at Farmer Briggs's which the hen 
 was hatching, and put them back again ; 
 that it was he who robbed the orchards ; 
 that it was he who incited a mob of boys 
 to hoot and execrate his tutor, who, so 
 the reprobate said, was a Jacobite priest 
 in disguise, who harboured designs of de- 
 throning her most gracious Majesty Queen 
 Anne in favour of the young Pretender; 
 that it was he who was at the bottom 
 of every prank performed in the quarter 
 where we lived. None ever thought that 
 the demure, grave-eyed boy was the auda- 
 cious and fun-loving lad he was. He 
 had a soft, sweet voice, which he certainly 
 knew how to turn to good account for his 
 own purposes, and which served him ex- 
 cellent stead. 
 
 His father would come over sometimes and 
 sit with us of an evening, bringing Sydney
 
 OB, FATED FORTUNES. 7 
 
 witli him. My lord was not a well-read man, 
 but he appreciated, or seemed to, those who 
 were. One night as he entered I happened 
 to be reading " Hamlet " aloud to my father. 
 Of course, I immediately closed the book and 
 rose to greet Sydney. 
 
 "Pray don't let me disturb you," quoth 
 my lord, good-naturedly. " Open your book 
 and continue from the place where you 
 left off; but first tell me, what is it 
 called?" 
 
 His son took the book from the table, and 
 ere I could open my mouth to answer, fe- 
 plied, with imperturbable serenity — 
 
 " Shakespeare, by Hamlet, Prince of 
 Denmark." 
 
 " A book by a prince ! " cried the as- 
 tonished gentleman. " I'll get that, by Jove, 
 only to see what it's like. Sydney, remind me 
 — a book by a prince, by all that's wonderful! 
 Who ever heard of such a thing ? " 
 
 I do not know how my father kept his 
 countenance, for I rushed from the room, 
 with my handkerchief crammed into my 
 mouth, to prevent an unseemly explosion of 
 mirth, and almost put an end to my existence
 
 S STEYNEVILLE; 
 
 by suffocation in consequence. When I re- 
 turned T found them engaged in a conversa- 
 tion about other matters ; but not till both 
 our visitors had gone did I know how much 
 I had hurt the feelings of my father by my 
 behaviour. 
 
 "Harold," he said, gravely, "the prin- 
 cipal part of a gentleman's education is to 
 behave as a gentleman. Don't think, my 
 boy, that by knowing a few sciences, by 
 being able to ride and fence well, that any- 
 one can lay claim to the title of a gentleman ; 
 nay, it is a fallacy, a delusion that I would 
 not have my son fall into. A true gentle- 
 man must not only possess a heart that is 
 capable of being moved to the cry of the 
 distressed, but he must not mock or jeer at 
 those who do not possess the same advantages 
 of education as himself — " 
 
 " But," interrupted I, very pleadingly, 
 " his own son, you know — " 
 
 " His own son's lack of respect and good 
 behaviour cannot, and does not, excuse mine. 
 Which of the two, do you think, betrayed 
 the most ignorance this evening — the one 
 who openly avows that he knows nothing of
 
 OR, FATED FORTUNES, 9 
 
 literature, and blunders; or the one wlio pro- 
 fesses to be a gentleman, and — " 
 
 I dreaded the words that I knew were 
 coming, for the very worst reproach my 
 father could bestow on me was, " Harold, 
 this is not like a gentleman," so I made this 
 remarkable excuse — 
 
 '' Sir, pardon me this time. If ever I so 
 offend again, please do think I am yet so 
 young, and that I shall learn as I grow 
 older. Indeed, I will try my best to please 
 you." 
 
 " My dear boy," he said, affectionately, '^I 
 know you will. You are the only one now — I 
 have left — to love me," he added in a lower 
 voice, quite brokenly. 
 
 I was seriously alarmed ; never having 
 seen him give way before to an emotion, 
 of this nature. Heaven alone knows what 
 strange thoughts rushed into my mind, but 
 foremost of them all was my mother, a name 
 which he had never mentioned to me. I 
 had never thought of this before, and even 
 now I do not know what impelled me to 
 say — 
 
 " Father, are you thinking of the mother
 
 10 STEYNEVILLE. 
 
 I never knew? 0, if I only could, how 
 willingly — " 
 
 He turned round with a look that I shall 
 never forget, so full of fearful anguish and 
 sorrow, that I could only stare with all my 
 eyes, and with a wildly beating heart, upon 
 his face. After a pause, he said, in a voice 
 that rung quite strangely in my ears — 
 
 " Leave me, Harold ; I am not well. I 
 am " — and with a stifled groan he fell sense- 
 less to the ground.
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 Although my father had perfectly recovered 
 his health a day or two after the foregoing, 
 the scene made a very painful impression 
 on me. As I turned the matter over and 
 over in my mind, I came to the conclusion 
 that my mother was the cause of it. " But," 
 reasoned I within myself, " Batty said she 
 died in my infancy, and that is twelve years 
 ago," and I could make nothing more of it 
 than my father had loved my mother very, 
 very much, and could not forget her, though 
 I wondered still why her very name should 
 so agitate him. 
 
 One morning, when I came down late 
 to breakfast, I noticed my father already
 
 12 STEYNEVILLE; 
 
 dressed in his walking habit, and eating his 
 morning meal very hastily. 
 
 I refrained from asking any questions, but 
 my glance was inquisitive enough, for he re- 
 plied to my look — 
 
 "Yes, Harold, I am going abroad, and 
 will not return before night." 
 
 " Indeed ! " I returned, considerably as- 
 tonished by the intelhgence. '' May I ask 
 where you're going ? " 
 
 " That," answered my father, rather sadly, 
 " you will know in good time, but not now. 
 I am going to bring something home with 
 me this evening, which I think will surprise 
 
 you." 
 
 " Pleasantly ? " I hazarded. 
 
 " I hope so — but good-bye, I must be off ; 
 don't be up to any mischief with Stapleton. 
 God bless you, dear boy." And with a 
 hurried embrace he was gone. 
 
 After breakfast I descended to the lower 
 regions, with the end in view of pumping 
 Batty, whom I found bustling about with a 
 vast amount of linen in her arms. 
 
 " Grood-morning, Batty," said I. '' Do 
 you know where my father has gone ? "
 
 OR, FATED FORTUNES. 12^ 
 
 "Not I, my blessed Master Harry," re- 
 turned Batty, who was a very bad hand at 
 deception. 
 
 " Come, do tell me," I continued, as coax- 
 in gly as I could. " I'm certain you know 
 all about it, and — what are you going to do 
 with those sheets and thing^s ? " 
 
 " Why, put on your bed and master's," 
 returns Batty, promptly. 
 
 "Now, don't tell me that; it was only 
 yesterday you put fresh sheets and pillow- 
 cases on both beds. I believe," I added, 
 cogitating, and more to myself, " that we're 
 going to have visitors." 
 
 " Lord, Master Harry, visitors ! " cried 
 Batty, with a little hysterical laugh, " what 
 visitors ? Who could ha' put that stufE into 
 your head ? " 
 
 *' I don't know what visitors," I answered, 
 now fully convinced of the truth of my idea, 
 " but some visitors I'm sure are corainof." 
 
 "Nonsense, Master Harold," said Batty, 
 with an attempt to be convincing ; '' but I 
 must go and clean my back kitchen, else we 
 will be quite — " 
 
 Whenever Batty commenced about that
 
 14 STEY NEVILLE; 
 
 most uninteresting of all subjects, her back 
 kitchen, I invariably made off as fast as I 
 could. 
 
 Steyneville Hall, I have remarked before, 
 was very lar ge ; some of the upper rooms, 
 indeed, had not been used for years. Im- 
 pelled by some boyish motive of curiosity, I 
 resolved, as I had nothing better to do in my 
 father's absence, to explore them in the hope 
 of finding some hidden treasure. Sydney 
 came in most opportunely, I thought, and 
 promised with great readiness to assist me in 
 the research. 
 
 Panting we climbed the great stone stairs, 
 pausing at each landing to regain the breath 
 we had lost in the ascent. When we, at last, 
 reached the uninhabited part of the house, 
 the air was so gloomy and damp, that it 
 struck quite a chill to my heart. Not so 
 Sydney, who sniffed suspiciously, remarking 
 as he did so — 
 
 " What a (ie-lightful smell of old ghosts 
 and — young mice. Shouldn't wonder if we 
 came across some. By-the-bye, Steyneville, 
 1 heard a charming tradition of your dead 
 and gone ancestors. One young gentleman
 
 OR, FATED FORTUNES. 15 
 
 killed another by mistake, and his shade re- 
 fuses to rest until all the race of the Steyne- 
 villes are no more. Ah," he added, in a tone 
 of moral conviction, '' what a comfort that 
 must be to you ! You don't know, you 
 haven't the faintest idea what I would 
 give to have a respectable old phantom be- 
 longing to our line — but, alack, ours is but 
 of yesterday." 
 
 " 0, do be quiet, Sydney," I expostulated. 
 
 "What for? Tm not fearful of inspiring 
 their ghostly majesties with dread if you are 
 — but fun apart, let's turn the handle of this 
 door; it looks — " 
 
 The rest of the sentence was lost by his 
 giving an energetic push at the door, which 
 despite his efforts remained closed. 
 
 '' Here, old chap, lend a hand, too, will 
 you?" asked Sydney. 
 
 I complied with the request, and by the 
 force of our combined efforts the door opened, 
 and rather more suddenly than we antici- 
 pated, too. 
 
 The room in which we entered so abruptly 
 was in total darkness. The blinds were 
 drawn, and a smell of must, dust, and
 
 16 STETNEVILLE; 
 
 mildew pervaded the atmosphere. Stapleton, 
 nothing daunted, groped his way to the 
 window; and, after some struggling, suc- 
 ceeded in drawing the heavy curtains aside, 
 and letting in a little of the cheerful light of 
 the now setting sun. 
 
 " That's a little gayer ; what think you, 
 Steyneville ? '' 
 
 I assented, and we both took a silent 
 survey of the apartment. It was not par- 
 ticularly large, and the furniture was covered 
 completely. I raised the covering of a 
 couch, and found the stuff to be of an 
 exquisite blue colour, a little faded, and 
 finely embroidered. 
 
 " This has been a lady's room, evidently," 
 said Sydney ; " but beyond the fact of its 
 having been tenanted by a lovely creature 
 now defunct, I see it hath no other interest, 
 so let us, then, take our departure — But, 
 stay ; what's that picture on the wall, with 
 its face turned ? We might as well see that 
 before we continue our exploration in other 
 quarters. What do you say, Steyneville? 
 Do you think it's worth the trouble ? " 
 
 " By all means," cried I. '' I never even
 
 OR, FATED FORTUNES. 17 
 
 knew that there was a picture in either of 
 these rooms." 
 
 Stapleton, as curious as I, gently raised 
 the picture, and twisted it with its face 
 towards us. Simultaneously we uttered a 
 cry of astonishment, for, painted by a 
 wonderful hand, a wonderful face looked 
 down upon us from the frame ! 
 
 It was a full-length portrait of a fair 
 woman, clad in snowy white robes, with a 
 broad sash of crimson tied negligently about 
 her waist ; a woman with a face once seen 
 never to be forgotten, not only for its mefe 
 physical beauty and regularity of feature, but 
 for possessing an expression at once sweet and 
 proud. The lines of the mouth were curved 
 downwards, and by a hair's-breadth escaped 
 haughtiness. But her eyes — I wonder still 
 how the painter could have endowed them 
 with such life. Like a second Pygmalion, 
 he must have stolen Celestial fire to have 
 given them their marvellous living light. 
 At the foot of the picture was written, 
 in black letters, '' Irene Steyneville " — my 
 mother's name, having seen it once in the 
 family Bible. 
 
 VOL. I.
 
 18 STEYNEVILLE. 
 
 Sydney was the first to break the pause 
 which followed the discovery. 
 
 " Let old Smiler " (that was his tutor) 
 *^ speak to me of Helen of Troy, Yenus, or 
 the rest of that set again. Bah ! " he said 
 contemptuously, " I'll laugh in his face." 
 
 But my thoughts were far away, and his 
 approbation of our find found no echo from 
 my heart. I stood transfixed and silent, 
 filled with a strange foreboding of some 
 impending ill. 
 
 " Who is it ? " he said at last. " Enlighten 
 me on the subject if you can, Steyneville, 
 and don't, for the love you bear me, stand 
 staring like a mooncalf, or " — he was at 
 a loss for a similitude, so he added hesi- 
 tatingly — " a poet ! " 
 
 " Who is that ? " I answered, shuddering ; 
 "it is my mother. But come away from 
 this place; the damp and mildew has made 
 me ill."
 
 CHAPTER lY. 
 
 Stapleton had gone home, and I was alone 
 again, and so filled with the thoughts that my 
 mother's picture had aroused, that I did not 
 hear mj father's ring, nor his footsteps along 
 the passage. So deep was my meditation, 
 that the door was opened before mj mind 
 was fully aroused to the fact that my father 
 had returned. With a cry of joy, I rose 
 from my chair ; but no sooner had I done so, 
 than I fell back, and gazed with unmitigated 
 astonishment on that which met my sight — 
 my father, holding two little girls by the 
 hand, two little girls, one of which looked 
 up into my face with most bewitching, 
 questioning eyes, and the other who seemed 
 to cling closer to the kind hand which closed 
 softly over the little one.
 
 20 STEYNEVILLE; 
 
 " Father," I said, looking from one to the 
 other, '' who are they ? " 
 
 " These," he answered, '* are your cousins,. 
 Harold; " and, in a low tone, he added, '' I 
 know you thought you had no relations. 
 These are the children of my sister, who 
 married a yillain, who, spent her fortune, 
 and broke her heart by deserting her. To 
 make a long matter short, he left these little 
 ones in my care till the time comes — God 
 forbid it ever should — when he will have 
 sufficient wherewith to offer them a home, 
 and take them from my charge. But I 
 don't think he will come back again, for he 
 has gone a long way to seek a fortune. 
 Meanwhile — " 
 
 " Meanwhile ? " I asked, as he paused. 
 
 " We will try to be to these orphans what 
 they have lost. Come, Almyra, kiss your 
 new cousin, Harold," he said, in a gayer tone, 
 addressing the pretty one. The other, I 
 noticed, was an ordinary-looking child, in 
 a plain dress. 
 
 Almyra advanced towards me, with her 
 forefinger in her moufch ; but as soon as she 
 had come half-way, retreated precipitately
 
 Off, FATED FORTUNES. 21 
 
 behind, her uncle's coat. My father laughed 
 good-humouredly, and caught the pretty 
 child in his arms. 
 
 " Now, Annie," he said, turning to the 
 other, " will you kiss your cousin ? Look, 
 Almyra has made him cry." 
 
 I was feigning to do so, but felt very much 
 piqued indeed. I laugh now as I think of 
 that scene, but my little cousin's manner 
 nettled me at the time to a great extent, and 
 I felt as if I would very willingly have 
 seen her laughing face change to a crying 
 one. But I was soon comforted. Annie, 
 seeing me with my face in my hands, as if 
 really lamenting, ran towards me with a 
 pitying look, and before I was aware, had 
 clasped her arms round my neck, and was 
 saying — 
 
 " 0, poor, poor cousin ; don't cry. Allie 
 doesn't really mean it ; and if you like she 
 will kiss you too, but don't, don't cry." 
 
 " There," said my father, watching us 
 with a more amused expression on his coun- 
 tenance than I had ever seen it wear, " there, 
 Miss Almyra ; won't you embrace your cousin 
 now that you have made so much mischief ? "
 
 22 STEYNEVILLE; 
 
 " Nay," cried missie; "Iwon'ttiss tousin. 
 He is a big, big baby to try, and I won't tiss 
 babies ; " and she shook her bright head from 
 side to side most resolutely. 
 
 '' How old are you, darling ? " asked my 
 father, stroking her head caressingly. 
 
 "I am six," she returned, "and Annie 
 is seven, eight, nine; and 0, you naughty 
 tousin, you haven't been trying (crying) not 
 a bit. Not one little bit, you nasty, 
 naughty, naughty — " Unable to express 
 her indignation in adequate epithets, my 
 little cousin laid her head on my father's 
 shoulder and wept most piteously. 
 
 I was compelled to pretend to cry again 
 before she would as much as raise her head 
 to listen to gentle remonstrances. As I 
 commenced my lamentations the little despot 
 left off, and brightened up visibly. 
 
 " Now make friends," said my father, 
 putting Almyra on her feet, "and then 
 Batty shall put you to bed." 
 
 " Don't want make fiends," cried Almyra, 
 pouting. " Don't want go to bed. Want to 
 stay with uncle," running up to him and 
 throwing her arms about her amused kins-
 
 OR, FATED FORTUNES. 23 
 
 man. She reached but very little higher 
 than his top-boots. Annie, who had not 
 moved from my side, looked wistfully on. 
 
 " But," reasoned my father, striving hard 
 to hide the smile that forced itself upon his 
 lips, '' we have made a long journey, and I 
 want to go to sleep, too. Come, be a darling; 
 go down with cousin and have some nice 
 supper, then say good-night, and go to bed 
 like a good little girl. Annie, you will, will 
 you not, if I ask you ? " he said, addressing 
 the other appealingly. 
 
 " Yes ; I will do anything you ask n»e, 
 uncle," answered my little kinswoman, 
 readily. "Will you take me, cousin, where 
 uncle bids ? " she added, raising her gentle 
 eyes to mine. 
 
 I rose to go down with my cousins, but 
 Almyra refused to move most strenuously. 
 My father shrugged his shoulders helplessly, 
 and told me to take Annie, and to send 
 Batty up for the little rebel, whom he strove 
 to melt into submission by promises of ob- 
 taining anything she wished. But all his 
 cajolement availed nothing. Almyra re- 
 mained obstinate, and I descended with my
 
 24 STEYNEVILLE. 
 
 other little charge. No sooner had our feet 
 touched the last step, when I heard my 
 father's voice calling for me. Hastily cou- 
 signing Annie into the care of my old nurse, 
 I obeyed the summons, and re-entered the 
 room which I had left but a minute before. 
 
 " Here, Harold ; Almyra will go now, 
 won't you ? " asked her uncle. 
 
 " Allie don't like tousin ; tousin nasty to 
 go away with Annie. Annie nasty too. No, 
 shan't go," she said, stamping her little foot 
 imperiously. " Allie stay with uncle; " and 
 she clambered up into my father's lap, and 
 ensconced herself very comfortably in his 
 arms. " Now go away, tousin." Grasping 
 her protector's neck ruffles in her chubby 
 little hands, and staring with her great eyes 
 into his face, she crooned a little baby song, 
 and so fell fast asleep.
 
 CHAPTER Y. 
 
 A WEEK after, and my two little kinswomen 
 were fairly settled in their new home. Little 
 Almyra had begun to take more kindly *to 
 me, and allowed me to carry her up and 
 down when she was tired, and do various 
 offices for her, which her little despotic 
 majesty was pleased enough to reward some- 
 times with a gracious kiss. In short, we 
 were all her devoted slaves, from the usually 
 crusty Birch upwards. Stapleton, too, who 
 was impervious to everything but mischief, 
 was never so happy as when chasing Ahnyra 
 in the garden, or nursing her. I cannot 
 think how the child could have wound her- 
 self around the heart of that inconstant, 
 butterfly-like being; but that she possessed
 
 2G STEYNEVILLE; 
 
 more of his affection and devotion than any 
 other living creature, there was not the re- 
 motest doubt. He would climb to any branch 
 of a tree, no matter what height, to obtain 
 the coveted bird's-nest for her little ladyship ; 
 he would endanger his life by reaching for 
 the water-lily miss had a desire to possess ; 
 he would do anything, in short, she wished, 
 and a great deal more to boot. 
 
 Annie was timid, shy, and retiring. Poor 
 child ! I don't think she was well understood 
 by anybody, saving my father and my- 
 self. Since the first night of her arrival I 
 had liked ray little kinswoman extremely 
 well, and I know the feeling was recipro- 
 cated. She had been neg^lected at home 
 since her mother's death ; her father had 
 left her to strangers' care because she did 
 not happen to be as pretty as her younger 
 sister. Already she knew she was the 
 plainer of the two. Even her dresses were 
 all dark, and without a vestige of trimming 
 on them, while Almyra's, on the contrary, 
 were gay and bright, elaborately ornamented 
 with ribbons and fallals of various descrip- 
 tions and hues. One day as the two came
 
 OR, FATED FORTUNES. 27 
 
 down dressed in their gala clothes, my 
 father noticed the difference. They were 
 going to take tea with my Lady Stapleton, 
 Sydney's mother, who, persuaded by him, 
 had asked permission of my father for their 
 company. 
 
 " Annie," said my father, " why did you 
 not put on a prettier frock, like Allie, to go 
 to Lady Stapleton's in ? " 
 
 " I — I — have no other," answered the child. 
 "But indeed, indeed, 'tis not my fault," she 
 added, brokenly. 
 
 For the first time in my life, 1 heard hSr 
 guardian break into a round oath. Re- 
 gretting his violence, he called for Batty, 
 who made her appearance with a curtsey and 
 a very wondering face. 
 
 " To-morrow," said my father, " take Miss 
 Annie Marlande to town, and see that her 
 dresses should be made exactly like her 
 sister's." 
 
 Batty made another bob, anglice curtsey, 
 and retired with a sigh of relief. Although 
 my father had been the kindest of masters, 
 she had always a positive dread of him. 
 
 A few days after the foregoing, when
 
 28 STEY NEVILLE. 
 
 Annie appeared in one of her new frocks, 
 Almyra burst out a-crjing most violently. 
 When asked why she cried, she answered, 
 between her sobs, that — 
 
 " Papa — had — always — said — that — Allie 
 was — much — more — pwetty — than — Annie, 
 and — now — now — there — was — no — dif-differ- 
 lence — if — she — was — dwessed — like— Allie." 
 
 Where this mite of six could have learnt 
 this worldliness Heaven only knows. I can- 
 not help thinking that some natures are 
 worldly from their very cradles, and even if 
 they mix with the most simple society re- 
 main unchanged ; and others, again, asso- 
 ciating from infancy upwards with callous 
 -and egotistical beings, retain their pristine 
 simplicity and ingenuousness of manner and 
 mind.
 
 CHAPTER YI. 
 
 Amongst our visitors of note was a certain 
 Lord Halifax Alingdale — handsome, opulent, 
 and young. Possessing these advantage, 
 one would have supposed an ordinary man 
 to be content with his lot ; but my lord was 
 not. Impatient and restless, he had already 
 from early youth plunged into the wildest 
 excesses and debaucheries ; and now almost 
 tired of every pleasure that life and wealth 
 could give, he cursed his fate incessantly. 
 My father, indeed, was the only person whose 
 counsel made any impression on him. He 
 believed in nothing, and sneered at every- 
 thing and everybody — himself most of all. 
 As he plays an important part in this history^ 
 I will endeavour to describe his person.
 
 30 STEYNEVILLE; 
 
 In stature, he was tall and lithe. His 
 countenance was at once striking and repell- 
 ing; being perfectly clean sha Yen, his finely- 
 chiselled features were clear and handsome as 
 a cameo's. His eyes, of some dark nameless 
 hue, more elongated than wide, and rather 
 deeply sunk into his head, were surmounted 
 by long black eyebrows. His mouth was ex- 
 ceptionally small, indeed, almost effeminate, 
 but for the strange expression it invariably 
 wore. The corners were curved upwards into 
 a half-smile ; inexpressibly bitter and dark. 
 His fine chesaut coloured hair fell in natural 
 curls over his shoulders ; although Mr. 
 Harley, or St. John, I forget which, had 
 made ribands very modish, my lord pre- 
 ferred, though in every other way very 
 fastidious in his dress, to be old-fashioned 
 in this one particular style. Although always 
 habited with neatness and excellent taste, 
 rather than be considered a coxcomb or a 
 fop, I think he would have sooner erred the 
 other way. His tolerance and utter indif- 
 ference passed for good-humour ; so that he 
 was extremely popular with almost all. His 
 conversation was mostly clever, though often
 
 OR, FATED FORTUNES. 31 
 
 caustic and bitter. His sarcasm, indeed, 
 could be so barbed and pointed that bis 
 enemies — and be bad many — scarcely cared 
 to come witbin tbe range of bis poisoned 
 sbafts. 
 
 I introduce bim in tbe earlier part of tbe 
 bistory because it was be tbat so materially 
 cbanged tbe course of my life. My fatber 
 intended, after two years' study at Cam- 
 bridge later on, tbat I sbould enter tbe 
 army, and tbere endeavour to distinguisb 
 myself as many Steynevilles bad done be- 
 fore me. My lord happened to bear of 
 tbese arrangements for my future one nigbt. 
 Botb be and my fatber were discussing tbe 
 merits and demerits of a military life. As 
 Allie and Annie were botb in bed, I bad 
 nothing to do but sit in a corner of tbe 
 room, to read or listen, as I felt dis- 
 posed. My lord bad never addressed me 
 beyond, " How art thou, boy ? " " Good- 
 bye," etc., and I feel sure that he looked 
 upon me as a little milksop. Why, I cannot 
 say ; unless it was tbat when be came in to 
 visit my fatber for balf-an-hour in the even- 
 ing, be invariably saw me sitting very
 
 32 STEY NEVILLE; 
 
 sedately and composed witli a volume or 
 having a romp with my two little kins- 
 women. 
 
 " Indeed, sir," said my father's guest ; 
 " surely you can't mean yon little sober 
 book-worm to enter npon a life seemingly 
 so very unsuitable for a lad of his habits. 
 The Church," with slight irony, he added, " is 
 far better adapted for such gentle and timid 
 dispositions." 
 
 " Harold," cried my father, smiling, '' do 
 you hear ? What think you of my lord's 
 proposition ? " 
 
 I rose from my place and came nearer to 
 the light. My Lord Alingdale must have 
 seen a very flushed face and sparkling eye 
 belonging to the " little sober book-worm." 
 
 " I was intended for the army," I said 
 warmly, " and I will — " 
 
 " Ah," interrupted my lord, raising his hand 
 slightly, " pardon me, if you judge by the 
 pretty dress military men wear, my lad. I 
 consider you are actuated by an impulse at 
 once disinterested and charming. Indeed, I 
 know nothing that affords me greater satis- 
 faction than to view a regiment of pretty
 
 OR, FATED FORTUNES. 33 
 
 fellows prettily dressed, and I think others 
 are of my mind too. But all that ghtters is 
 not gold. Work — " 
 
 " I am not afraid of it," I interrupted hotly 
 in my turn, unlike Fal staff, with far more 
 courage than discretion. 
 
 " Come," said my lord, with a bantering air 
 which annoyed me excessively, " think your- 
 self in the army now, and someone (impolitely, 
 I must confess, but that cannot be helped, as 
 really some of the men are greatly wanting in 
 e very-day civilities) were to call you a coward, 
 or any other opprobrious epithet you c^n 
 imagine to yourself, what would you do?" 
 
 In less time than the question took to ask, 
 and completely carried away with indigna- 
 tion at the thought of a Steyneville being 
 called one, I whipped out my little dirk, 
 brandished it in good style and answered — 
 
 " This is what I would do, my lord." 
 
 *' Bravo ! excellent, my young Trojan. 
 "Who would have guessed you had so much 
 pluck in your young body ! How old are 
 you ? " cries my lord, highly amused. 
 
 " I am twelve," I replied, bowing, not for- 
 
 VOL. I. D
 
 34 STEYNEVILLE; 
 
 getting my good manners this time ; *' and 
 at your service, my lord." 
 
 " I warrant you a gay time if you were. 
 What say you, Mr. Steyneville, will you let 
 him come to me?" he asked eagerly, but 
 almost immediately his animated counten- 
 ance became clouded, and he laughed bitterly 
 as he added, " Bah ! I am a moral specimen 
 of humanity to be entrusted with the care of 
 youth, particularly where ' les moeurs ' are 
 concerned." 
 
 " Ah, my lord," responded my father, " he 
 has not finished his studies yet, although I 
 should like him to see a little of the world 
 before he enters college life. 
 
 " Certainly, quite right," interrupted my 
 father's guest suddenly. " Can you speak 
 French ? " 
 
 I bowed in acquiescence, rather astonished 
 at the suddenness of the question. 
 
 " You are surprised, I see. I will explain 
 the reason of my asking you. Lady Olympia 
 Norton, a kinswoman of mine, has of late 
 been turning the earth over for a page of 
 good education and family, and one who can 
 speak French. Now I think as the situation is
 
 OR, FATED FORTUNES. 35 
 
 an extremely advantageous one, and that you 
 are likely to suit her and yourself, which is 
 of far greater importance — you only need 
 'be good-looking, quick-witted, and brave to 
 please her fastidious ladyship, and that you 
 certainly are," observed my lord, looking 
 at me critically. 
 
 I blushed very ingenuously under his 
 scrutiny. 
 
 "Ah, THAT school will cure you soon 
 enough, my lad, of modesty — I mean of 
 shame-facedness regarding your own merits, 
 but that is something gained. At college 
 they would tease the life out of you if you 
 blushed each time anyone lauded you as a 
 pretty fellow ; but what do you say to 
 my proposition, Mr. Steyneville ? And you, 
 young gentleman, what do you think of the 
 scheme ? " 
 
 I looked at my father eagerly, and as he 
 caught my glad eyes he stifled a sigh and 
 said — 
 
 " I think, nay, I am sure we cannot do 
 better than accept your generous offer. Yes, 
 Harold, it is better that you should spread 
 your wings a little for the first flight from
 
 36 STEYNEVILLE ; 
 
 the parent nest, until you leave it for ever," 
 lie said, half sadly and half mirthfully. " If 
 you can arrange the matter, my lord, Harold 
 will be thankful to accept the situation, and 
 I am sure, I will be obliged to you for ob- 
 taining it." 
 
 " Say no more," answered my lord, " the 
 affair is arranged. Now, Master Harold, 
 what say you? " 
 
 I was speechless for the moment. I who 
 had never quitted my dear father's side for 
 eleven years, and he who had been my con- 
 stant kind protector and companion, were 
 going to part ! And it was his will, whilst I 
 knew it was for my good. As I looked at him 
 with his head bent sorrowfully to the ground 
 — alone in the world but for me — I knew how 
 much it cost him to make the sacrifice, so 
 instead of answering my questioner I ran to 
 my kind father's side, knelt on the ground, 
 took his dearly-loved hand in mine and kissed 
 it reverently. Only when I was on the point 
 of losing, and when I had lost his guiding 
 hand and gentle voice, was I fully aware of 
 my great and irreparable loss. 
 
 My tears fell fast on the hand which I
 
 OR, FATED FORTUNES. 37 
 
 clasped; let it be remembered I was so very 
 young then, so unskilled in the world's cold 
 ways. Such a simple lad ; not even ashamed 
 of his tender heart ! 
 
 My lord saw my tears, and evidently mis- 
 construed them. 
 
 " What, crjing already ! " said he, with an 
 almost imperceptible sneer, " that's a bad 
 beginning. 0, fie ! and not yet left papa's 
 wing, and you would fight for your queen 
 and country. Ha ! ha ! " 
 
 My blood was up — fairly boiling — as T rose 
 to my feet and cried — 
 
 " God shall not find me wanting in love — 
 and no one shall find me wanting in courage, 
 my lord. If I weep to leave you, dear father, 
 you will not think me a coward, I know," I 
 added, dashing the tears from my eyes with 
 the back of my hand. " Indeed — indeed, if 
 any but my father's guest had said — " 
 
 " You would take summary vengeance on 
 the insolent person, no doubt," interrupted 
 Lord Halifax, laconically. '' But, frankly 
 speaking, I like both you and your pluck, 
 youngster — so — shall we be friends ? " hold- 
 ing out his delicate hand and smiling.
 
 38 STEYNEVILLE; 
 
 I could not resist him, although he had 
 made me angry but a moment before, so 
 shaking hands with cordiality, a friendship 
 began there and then which ended only with 
 death. 
 
 My Lord Halifax, true to his promise, 
 had arranged all preliminaries with his kins- 
 woman. Lady Norton, and about a month 
 after the preceding conversation, my trunks 
 stood in the hall, ready to be conveyed to 
 the residence of my future mistress, and I, 
 their owner, torn by conflicting emotions,, 
 sate sad and silent the eve previous to my 
 departure, in company with my father. 
 Little Annie had already advanced towards 
 me twice, but meeting no smile of welcome, 
 and seeing me downcast, she had retreated 
 into a corner, ever and anon peeping 
 from her place with wistful eyes, wonder- 
 ing, no doubt, why Hally (neither of the 
 two would call me Harold) was so different 
 to-night. Almyra had pouted at my glum- 
 ness, and had fled for amusement to the 
 ready arms of Stapleton, who could tell stories 
 of fairies and beautiful princesses, " although 
 the high-born damsels were never so pretty
 
 OR, FATED FORTUNES. 39 
 
 as Allie," so the legend-spinner whispered ; 
 a saving-clause that the listener loved to hear 
 almost as much as she liked to munch the 
 young viscount's comfits as she sate upon his 
 knee. I was thinking of a multitude of 
 things, and although the thoughts of the 
 change which the morrow would bring lay 
 uppermost in my mind — my heart was 
 assailed by the picture, the picture of my 
 mother, which I had seen some time ago, 
 the same day that my cousins arrived. Since 
 then I had scarcely ever ceased pondering 
 over the strange circumstances attendant .on 
 the finding of the portrait. Day and night 
 the subject had haunted me. Why had my 
 father never spoken of her to me ? Why 
 had he shown such anguish once when I 
 mentioned her name ? Why was her picture 
 discarded, instead of being honoured, and 
 loved, and hung in a room where our eyes 
 could rest on it every day, with tender 
 thoughts as of one beautiful and gentle, who 
 was no more — why, I say, did it hang with 
 its face to the wall in a lonely and desolate 
 room ? 
 
 I had often been on the point of asking
 
 40 STEYNEVTLLE; 
 
 my dear father about the mystery which 
 shrouded my mother s name, but something 
 invariably prevented the words from issuing 
 from my lips. How impatiently I longed 
 for the time when, the children being in bed 
 and Stapleton gone, I would at last be able 
 to ask for an explanation before my de- 
 parture. 
 
 When Batty appeared at the door to 
 summon my little kinswomen to bed, Staple- 
 ton rose to go. We bade each other an affec- 
 tionate farewell, albeit boyish, promising 
 ourselves gay times at college, where it 
 was intended we should go together. I 
 listened with bated breath till the last echo 
 of his footstep died away on the stone pas- 
 sage, then I turned towards my father, feel- 
 ing decidedly uncomfortable, for although I 
 had gained my wish, I did not know how to 
 launch into the matter which so oppressed 
 me. 
 
 I think, as his eyes met mine, he half 
 guessed, as he pressed his hand to his fore- 
 head, of what I intended to speak. Even 
 now as I write, I feel perfectly sure that he 
 read my thoughts. Perhaps it was my be-
 
 OR, FATED FORTUNES. 41 
 
 liaviour, less familiar and more constrained 
 than usual, that made him expect, or at least 
 half divine, what was impending. He ex- 
 pressed no surprise as I said — 
 
 " Father, I have never spoken to you of 
 this before, but now, my last night for many 
 months at home, I ask you, I pray you to 
 answer me — who was my mother ? why is 
 her picture hung disgracefully in one of 
 those dark rooms upstairs? 0, what," cried I, 
 beside myself, '' what fault was hers that her 
 image should be thus treated now she is 
 dead ? " 
 
 " My boy, I knew this would come at last," 
 he answered, with an indescribable anguish in 
 his tones and depicted in his face, " only I 
 thank God that He hath permitted me to 
 withhold the truth, the awful truth, from 
 you so long, that your childhood and inno- 
 cence has not been embittered with it. My 
 loved son," he continued, taking my hand, 
 and pressing it tenderly. I shrunk from his 
 fingers' warm clasp, and shuddered con- 
 vulsively, for my heart was sick and despair- 
 ing within me, as an awful thought struck me. 
 
 " Am I a " I could not bring myself
 
 42 STE7NEVILLE; 
 
 to mention the word, but stood before him 
 pale and horror-stricken, with my eyes fixed 
 on his face, waiting — dreading the answer he 
 might give. 
 
 '' Thou," he said, after a pause, speaking 
 with an ineffable tenderness, " whom I have 
 loved and guarded so long and well, can 
 you think so harshly of me ? You are 
 my own true son, before God and man I 
 swear it. I have not sinned so grievously, 
 but have been sinned against, by one whose 
 care and smile should have made us both 
 different. Both, did I say ? Nay, not thee, 
 for thou could st not be a greater joy to me 
 than thou art. 'Tis only myself that has 
 been changed." 
 
 In my joy and thankfulness to hear that 
 my fears had not been realised, I interrupted 
 him and implored his forgiveness, which he 
 readily granted, for the groundless doubts I 
 had harboured against his honour and my 
 happiness, for I was happy in the thought of 
 being such a noble man's son. '' But what, 
 dearest father," I asked, after a silence of 
 some minutes, some of my fears returning as 
 I watched his changed, sad eyes, '' what is
 
 OR, FATED FORTUNES. 43 
 
 the mystery surrounding my dead mother's 
 name, which disturbs you so ? Let me 
 share that heavy burden with you. Per- 
 haps/' I added, breathlessly, catching at a 
 straw, *' the load that one cannot bear, two 
 may with ease." 
 
 " Poor boy," returned my father, sorrow- 
 fully, "you shall judge for yourself, if you 
 are capable of lightening the weight which 
 has for almost twelve years been, and is still, 
 so heavy upon me." 
 
 I sat down near his side, but he rose 
 and paced the apartment with a hasty step, 
 as if the mere act of walking rendered the 
 task of telling me, that which I wished to 
 know, easier. 
 
 An unusual scene surely, with the laws of 
 Nature entirely reversed. The father as 
 pleader, the son as judge. 
 
 '' What I am going to say," began my 
 father, " I will make as brief as possible. 
 Once I dreaded the approach of a time when 
 concealment would be no longer possible, 
 now I thank Heaven that it has come. You 
 must know, Harold, that I was left an 
 orphan at an early age, with no living,
 
 U STEYNEVILLE; 
 
 relation in the world but a younger sister, 
 whom I fondly loved. I promised my dying 
 mother to remain unmarried until Alice — 
 so was she named — became of age, and 
 married. For she was already the pro- 
 mised bride of the man of whom she ulti- 
 mately became the wife. We were tolerably 
 wealthy and happy too. Well, to shorten a 
 long story, Alice was united to Mr. Mar- 
 lande, who turned out to be a wolf in sheep's 
 clothing. He broke her heart, as I told you 
 before, five years after their marriage, by re- 
 peated cruelty and infidelity. Now I shall 
 tell you of my unfortunate self. Soon after 
 my sister had left her home, I began to feel 
 myself extremely lonely and miserable ; vainly 
 I strove to find the true felicity I had lost. 
 But nothing availed. Steyneville Hall was 
 not the same home I had known it to be 
 when my sister superintended it. 
 
 " I wrote to her regarding my loneliness. 
 She, by return of messenger, invited me to 
 •come and stay with her for a few days, saying 
 she had something in store for me — a sur- 
 prise which, if I were reasonable, would 
 restore something of my former equanimity,
 
 OR, FA TED FO R TUNES. A 5- 
 
 and make the master of Steyneville Hall a 
 brighter man. 
 
 " Wondering what her remedy to mend 
 my ills could be, I in all haste repaired to 
 her house. She received me with great 
 a:ffection, and when I asked her what cure 
 she had for my restlessness, she replied by 
 taking me into her boudoir, where a beautiful 
 girl was seated bending over a harpsichord. 
 This woman, whom I had no sooner seen 
 than I loved her, subsequently became my 
 wife. Yes," answering my look, " your 
 mother. Does it seem strange to you th'^t 
 I speak so calmly now of one whom I loved — 
 more than my life — as my honour ? I confess 
 it appears so to me, but — " he passed his 
 hand over his eyes, and paused a minute in 
 liis hurried walk — '' everything has an end. 
 Regret, love, joy and grief, but hope, never. 
 For she who wronged me beyond all pardon 
 left me thee, my dear boy, to hope." 
 
 " 0, my dear father," I thought, " if ever 
 I wrong you in thought, or deed, I shall 
 indeed be a villain." As I was about to 
 speak, he stopped me with a wave of his 
 hand.
 
 46 STEYNEVILLE. 
 
 " Let me continue," he said. " About a 
 year after our marriage you came into the 
 world to crown my happiness. 
 
 " I have forgotten to tell you -that we had 
 been keeping much company. Amongst our 
 guests was'a certain Lord Beaufort, who had 
 admired your mother before she became my 
 wife. Can you guess the rest ? I went 
 abroad for three weeks to attend the bedside 
 of a dying friend ; when I came back she was 
 gone." 
 
 '' Gone ! " I gasped. " father, not with 
 — not with — " 
 
 " Yes, with her former admirer," he 
 answered, bitterly, ''leaving her infant to 
 the tender mercies of domestics, and her 
 husband to shame — but," he added, the 
 memory stirring up all the honest indignation 
 of a noble heart, " I pursued and wounded 
 him in a duel; but he recovered to be 
 fondled and caressed in thy false mother's 
 arms." 
 
 When I raised my head, for I had fallen 
 almost into a stupor, stunned and sickened 
 by the recital of the wrongs my father had 
 endured, I found I was in the room alone.
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 The next morning I rose betimes, and when 
 I approached the breakfast parlour, judge of 
 my surprise when I saw Lord Halifax on'e 
 of the party. Little Almyra was busy in- 
 specting the ruffles on his right sleeve, so 
 that he could not extend his hand to me. 
 
 " Are you going to take Hally away with 
 you ? " she demanded, staying in a very 
 minute inspection of the pattern of my lord's 
 lace. 
 
 " Yes, I am going to take him away," he 
 returned, looking rather wonderingly on the 
 beautiful upturned eyes of the pretty child. 
 
 " What are you going to do with him ?" 
 pursued Miss Marlande. 
 
 "Do with him?" he repeated, rather
 
 48 STEYNEVILLE; 
 
 puzzled and mucli amused with the cross- 
 examiner. " We are ^oing to make a man 
 of him." 
 
 " Are you one ?" 
 
 *'Yes," laughing, "or—" 
 
 " Nay," interrupted my young kinswoman, 
 " and will he wear such pretty ruffles and 
 coats, and silk stocky s like you when he is a 
 man ^ 
 
 " Very likely, if he is good," answered 
 my lord. 
 
 " 0, how very, very good you must be ! '* 
 cries miss, folding her hands reverently, 
 *' although," coming closer, and holding her 
 head sideways and looking critically at the 
 smiling face before her, "although you do 
 not looh it." 
 
 I had finished a hasty repast, and was 
 awaiting my lord's pleasure. Almyra's 
 answer had enchanted him. The demure 
 little maid, in her pretty dress, looked so 
 winning that he asked her if she would give 
 him a kiss. 
 
 She raised her innocent face up to his im- 
 mediately, and as he pressed his lips to her 
 downy cheek, a pang shot through my heart.
 
 OR, FATED FORTUNES. 49 
 
 On my conscience I now verily believe it was 
 jealousy. But I had no time to brood. My 
 lord was ready, and tlie horses were waiting. 
 Embracing my father and cousins hastily, I 
 ran from the room, and in much less time 
 than it takes to relate, mounted and awaited 
 most impatiently the coming of my guide. I 
 did not want anyone to see the emotion 
 which parting had caused me, so I longed to 
 be away. A good hard gallop is a most 
 wonderful preventative of tears ; those who 
 have tried the remedy can no doubt vouch 
 for its excellence. 
 
 My father understood the meaning of my 
 abrupt departure, and so he did not escort his 
 guest as usual to the very entrance gates of 
 Steyneville. I turned aside my head, as our 
 horses pushed slowly along, to hide the tears 
 which, despite my strenuous efforts, would 
 well into my eyes, and from thence trickle 
 down my cheek. 
 
 " J^ot crying, surely ?" said my lord, rather 
 sneeringly, after we had gone on in silence 
 for some minutes. 
 
 " No — o," I answered with a gasp, angry 
 with myself and his very perceptible sneer. 
 
 VOL. I. E
 
 50 STETNEVILLE; 
 
 " Show me your face — here, turn it round 
 this way, Steyneville. I bet my life on it 
 that you are ! " 
 
 By an almost superhuman effort, I re- 
 strained the tear that was impending, 
 clenched my teeth tightly together, and 
 breathing very quickly, turned round to my 
 companion. He saw the struggle within me, 
 but he was merciless. 
 
 " Hey, my lad," he said, banteringly, 
 arranging his reins, '' I am sorely afraid if 
 we were to be attacked by some gentleman of 
 the road who wished to lighten our pockets, 
 or scatter our brains to the winds, one of us 
 would look in no very good fighting con- 
 dition." 
 
 " I am afraid, my lord," I returned, as 
 calmly as I could, ''that one of us has not 
 much money to be relieved of, and that the 
 other has — " 
 
 *' ISTot much brain to lose — not bad. Come, 
 you are brightening up now," he replied, 
 and so saying he raised his left hand to 
 check the action of his horse, and smiled. 
 That strange dark smile, half mirth and half 
 bitterness.
 
 OB, FATED FORTUNES. 51 
 
 As I looked on the hand that held the 
 rein, I remarked with surprise that the 
 ruffle that had half covered his fingers before 
 was gone. 
 
 " Are you wondering where my lace has 
 gone? " he asked, my look not escaping his 
 sharp eyes. 
 
 " Yes, my lord, I must confess," I said, 
 '' I am." 
 
 "You cannot guess?" interrupted the 
 young man. " That little Circe, your cousin, 
 is making a doll's bonnet or what not of it 
 by this time, I expect." 
 
 So he had disfigured his dress merely to 
 satisfy the passing caprice of the saucy child. 
 I mused deeply for some minutes, so deeply 
 indeed that I started in my saddle as I heard 
 the word, pronounced ominously enough — 
 
 " Halt ! " 
 
 Quick as thought, and quite as deftly, I 
 drew from the holster a pistol, which I had 
 loaded myself in case of emergency, and 
 looked up. 
 
 Two ill-looking fellows mounted on sorry 
 nags, and masked, had seized the reins of my 
 lord's horse. Looking on me as a child, they 
 
 LIBRARY 
 
 UNIVERSITY OF ILLINOIS
 
 52 STEYNEVILLE ; 
 
 evidently thought they had but one to deal 
 with. 
 
 '' What do you want, you fools ? " asked 
 my lord contemptuously, not even blenching 
 before the pistol held by one of them so close 
 to his temple. 
 
 "Throw over the palaver; give us your 
 purse, curse me," cried one. — " ISTone of your 
 
 airs, my lord, or d n my stars if I don't 
 
 draw the trigger ! Give me the brooch youVe 
 got stuck in that very pretty lace o' yourn ; 
 it'll just do for my Polly," said the second, 
 with a kind of savage grim humour. 
 
 "If you will kindly permit me to present you, 
 as a gentleman to gentlemen, my belongings, 
 I shall be most delighted to deliver them," 
 quoth my lord, courteously ; " but really, 
 you know," he added, with a slight shrug of 
 the shoulders, " I — " and with a swift move- 
 ment he drew his sword and sent the high- 
 wayman's pistol spinning into mid-air. 
 
 The other one, with an oath, had cocked 
 his, and was about to send his shot straight 
 to my lord's heart. But I was too quick 
 for him. Whiz ! bang ! and the contents of 
 my staunch little pistol were buried in his
 
 OR, FATED FORTUNES. 53 
 
 arm, and with a howl of anguish, he spurred 
 his horse into a mad gallop and fled pre- 
 cipitately, followed by his companion. Only 
 when they were long out of sight did Lord 
 Halifax turn to me. 
 
 *' Thank you, Steyneville," he said, very 
 simply ; "I shall never forget that service. 
 But come, spur your horse, or we will be 
 late, and my lady Norton will think I have 
 led you into some mischief or other."
 
 CHAPTER YIII. 
 
 My lady Olympia Norton was a woman of 
 about thirty years old. Tall and command- 
 ing, she possessed all those outward attrac- 
 tions which constitute beauty. But still she 
 was not beautiful. Her carriage was too 
 decided and energetic to be entirely in 
 accordance with those rules that the ad- 
 mirers of gentle loveliness have lain down. 
 Her features were fine and regular; her 
 black hair was combed off a forehead mar- 
 vellously white and broad ; and her eyes were 
 large and bright. But her features, her eyes, 
 expression, and deportment belonged rather 
 to a man than a woman. Generous and 
 kindly, cynical and good-humoured, scorn-
 
 STEYNEVILLE. 55 
 
 ful and passionate by turns, my lady was 
 the only vvoman that I have met with in my 
 life, an impossible being for a man to love. 
 Praise and admiration were plentifully be- 
 stowed upon her, but not affection. She 
 seemed as far removed from a desire to 
 please or the wish to instil a passion as the 
 mighty Pyramids themselves. 
 
 My lady, like her kinsman. Lord Halifax, 
 was unmarried, but being hospitably and 
 socially inclined, her castle was always full 
 of visitors. 
 
 After I had been presented to my future 
 mistress my lord told her of what he was 
 pleased to call bravery, and which was in 
 reality nothing more than a lucky shot. 
 
 The recital of the adventure evidently 
 pleased my lady. 
 
 " Come here — " 
 
 '' Harold," put in my lord. 
 
 " Harold, c'est un joli gargon, ma foi," 
 she cried, taking my hand. 
 
 I blushed, and bowed. 
 
 *' I am quite of your opinion," said my 
 lord, lazily, *'and modest, too, which is still 
 more astonishing nowadays."
 
 56 STEYNEVILLE; 
 
 " Are you going to preacli us a sermon, 
 beau cousin ? '* said my lady, elevating her 
 dark eyebrows. 
 
 '' 0, dear no. Confound — I'm sure I beg 
 your pardon." 
 
 " There's no occasion," laughed his kins- 
 woman. '' If you wish or have a mind to 
 confound, why, confound ! I have nothing 
 against it. Pray do not let my presence dis- 
 turb you. Now, Harold," she continued, 
 turning to me, " what can you do ? " 
 
 " Madam," said I, by this time grown 
 bolder, " I can listen, see, obey, and keep 
 silence, if — " 
 
 " Not another word ; that pleases me 
 much," cried my mistress. " Cousin Aling- 
 dale, c'est un tresor que vous m'avez apporte," 
 she added, in a lower voice, to my lord, who 
 was leaning on the table with his chin rest- 
 ing on his hand. " But what on earth have 
 you done with your sleeve ? Where is your 
 ruffle ? " she asked, surprisedly. 
 
 " I am in love," answered her kinsman. 
 
 " Will you be kind enough to enlighten 
 me, M. le Bizarre, on this point, what your 
 ruffle has to do with your being in love ? "
 
 OR, FATED FORTUNES. 67 
 
 " Greatly. My love admired my ruffle ; 
 ergo, my love hath my ruffle." 
 
 " Who is this new strange ladylove of 
 yours who asks only for ruffles ? " 
 
 " She is beautiful," answered my lord, 
 with one of his strange smiles. " She is 
 young, she is charming, she is accomplished, 
 she is bewitching, and she is good'^ 
 
 "Ah," said my lady, seriously, ''if she is 
 all what you say, Alingdale, be true for once 
 in your life — be honest ; change your dissi- 
 pated existence ; give up all those debau- 
 cheries into which you so heedlessly plunge ; 
 become — " 
 
 " And become a saint. Nay," he answered, 
 laughingly. " But flattery apart, Burnet 
 himself need not have been ashamed of that 
 prolegomena. If I am not much mistaken, 
 fair cousin Olympia, you were going to launch 
 into a glorious dissertation on the joys of 
 marriage, hey ! " 
 
 " Cousin, cousin," said my mistress with a 
 sigh, '' will you always be the same ? But 
 this young lady, tell me, does she know 
 what—" 
 
 " What I am ? No, she does not ; in fact.
 
 58 STEYNEVILLE; 
 
 she considers me lialf an angel," he re- 
 turned. 
 
 '' You an angel," she repeated, incre- 
 dulously ; " no, that's too much, cousin 
 Hal." 
 
 " 'Tis so," he said, " nevertheless. I really 
 don't know, being so infatuated with her, 
 that I would not offer myself, but there is 
 an obstacle, an insurmountable obstacle" he 
 added solemnly, " that preventeth me from 
 carrying out my half -formed plan." 
 
 "And that is ? — questioned his kinswoman. 
 
 " That is — her age," answered the repro- 
 bate. 
 
 "How old is she, then ? " demanded my 
 lady, almost breathlessly. 
 
 " She is — seven, if I am not mistaken. 
 But I will leave you now, to dress. I sup- 
 pose my room is ready, fair cousin ? " 
 
 There was always an apartment in Norton 
 Castle for my mistress's kinsman. 
 
 "By-the-bye, Olympia," said my lord, 
 pausing as he turned the handle of the door, 
 " for the love of mercy and other sublime 
 virtues don't send up one of your ugly old 
 catmarans to me when I ring. I reallj
 
 OR, FATED FORTUNES. 5» 
 
 cannot understand," he added, with a look 
 of injured innocence, " why it is." 
 
 " No, poor fellow," said my lady, with a 
 slight sneer, '' I will have mercy ; I will 
 send Hilbert to you when you ring." 
 
 Hilbert was an old man-servant, and 
 had been in my lady Norton's father's 
 employ. 
 
 "Ugh! worse and worse," answered my 
 lord, with a grimace. " When I see that 
 old villain he always reminds me of some 
 fungus-grown hobgoblin." 
 
 Although my lady's kinsman always jeei^d 
 at the old servant, noae were really kinder 
 to him. It was my lord who gave him a 
 "dot" for his daughter who married the 
 young butcher, who sent his wife wine and 
 game and other delicacies in her last illness, 
 who placed one of his boys in a good situa- 
 tion, and paid for the other's schooling and 
 clothing ; it was my lord, in brief, who was 
 the old man's chief benefactor and tor- 
 mentor. 
 
 Then my lord left the room, and I re- 
 mained alone with my mistress, wondering, 
 what was going to happen next and what
 
 60 STEYNEVILLE; 
 
 my duties were. I did not remain long in 
 ignorance. 
 
 " Are you fond of reading ? " asked my 
 lady directly after my lord had left the 
 room. 
 
 As my favourite occupation was named, I 
 felt my face flush with pleasure as I replied, 
 with a little more warmth than was abso- 
 lutely necessary — 
 
 ''Indeed, madam, I love it.'* 
 
 This answer, like my preceding ones, had 
 the good fortune of meeting with my lady's 
 entire approval. 
 
 "Good," she replied; "you shall read to 
 me my letters, French and English. I will 
 have you read for two hours to me daily. 
 See, I have some very good works ; " and 
 she pointed to a beautifully carved bookcase 
 which stood at one end of the chamber. 
 
 " Ah, how thankful I am, my lady," said 
 I, with sincere gratitude. 
 
 * I took the white hand extended to me and 
 kissed it. 
 
 " If you would please me, Harold, when 
 you are alone with me, and when you speak to 
 me, let it be in French. Ah, France — " She
 
 OR, FATED FORTUNES. 61^ 
 
 cliecked herself as she remarked my undis- 
 guised wonder. " You seem surprised," 
 she said, coldly, '' that I ask what I do, but 
 I am of French extraction — my mother was 
 French, and my prince is in France — there- 
 fore I love all that is French." 
 
 " So my lady is a Jacobite," thought I as 
 I bowed in obedience to her commands ; but 
 I said nothing. 
 
 "Now," she continued with a smile, ''as 
 you understand me, I hope we will get on 
 well together, as I think we shall. For tlie 
 present," she added, ringing a silver hand- 
 bell, '' you will be shown to your roonj. 
 Hilbert," addressing the old servant who 
 had just entered the room, '' show Mr. Harold 
 to his room and give him all he requires." 
 
 Bowing again, I left my new mistress 
 and followed my guide to another part of 
 the castle. Once alone in the apartment 
 destined for my use, and which was as 
 comfortable as could be, I was unreasonable 
 enough to fling myself on the bed and burst 
 into a passion of tears. 0, I felt so lonely, 
 so desolate, amongst these worldly strangers, 
 so forsaken, so very, very home-sick, that
 
 «2 STEYNEVILLE; 
 
 I half-intended to write home and say I 
 would die (it is always the same with young 
 people when they leave home for the first 
 time) if I could not return. But presently, 
 when the storm abated, I began to feel 
 thoroughly ashamed of my cowardice, and 
 when, as I rose and saw my tear-stained face 
 in the glass, I rated myself soundly. '' So," 
 said I, "you young whimpering mollicoddle, 
 you would cry for nothing, would you ? and 
 you would distinguish yourself in the army. 
 O, for shame ! for shame ! Fie on your 
 child's heart ! " 
 
 The iron entered my soul. I firmly re- 
 solved to shed no more tears. And I did 
 not. 
 
 Having dressed myself to my complete 
 satisfaction, and put on my best raffles, I 
 sat down, and for the first time recollected 
 that when I was dressed I would not know 
 what to do. The castle was so large that I 
 did not dare venture to go through the cor- 
 ridors for fear of losing myself. 
 
 Casting myself in the hands of Providence, 
 T opened a trunk, and, after much rummag- 
 ing, succeeded in getting a book. I trimmed
 
 OR, FATED FORTUNES. 63 
 
 "the light afresh, and composed myself to 
 read. 
 
 I had scarcely forgotten my situation, in 
 following the humours of M. Alceste in the 
 "Misanthrope," when I was aroused by a 
 knocking at the door. 
 
 " Come in," said I. 
 
 " Ha, Steyneville, ready ? Come along, 
 then," answered a well-known voice pre- 
 ceded by the figure of Lord Alingdale, 
 finely dressed. 
 
 I prepared to follow, wondering to what 
 place I was going to be led, but as I w^s 
 beginning to feel decidedly hungry after the 
 excitement of the day, I thought rightly that 
 dinner was served. 
 
 After traversing various corridors, and 
 descending several flights of stairs, we 
 reached the dining-hall, where, at a long, 
 elegantly laid-out table, many people were 
 already seated. We took our places, my 
 lord vis-a-vis to me, and I between two 
 ladies, one young and the other old. 
 
 My lady Norton had already acquainted 
 them all of the paltry service I had rendered 
 her kinsman that morning in the encounter
 
 64 STEYNEVILLE ; 
 
 with the highwaymen, and so I was the 
 object of general observation, . the dinner 
 passing off with a vast amount of encomiums 
 on my prowess, which made me bhish rather 
 awkwardly. My pretty neighbour, a sprightly 
 Frenchwoman, with a small, arch face, was 
 perfectly merciless in her epithets of appro- 
 bation on my courage. Instead of gratifying 
 my vanity, their eulogiums had a perfectly 
 opposite effect, and I felt as angry and hurt 
 as if I had met with obloquy and reproach 
 instead of praise. Then I thought they did 
 not mean it — now I think differently. 
 
 The dinner was at an end. The ladies had 
 left the table, and about a dozen gentlemen 
 sat laughing and talking over their wine. 
 My lord had thrown himself into an easy 
 chair, apart from the others, and seemed to 
 be entirely preoccupied with his thoughts. 
 No very pleasant ones, judging by his 
 frowning smile. The conversation indulged 
 in by these gentlemen was not of a kind fit 
 for polite ears; indeed, my face became as 
 crimson as Lord Alingdale's coat, through 
 their profanity and looseness of speech. 
 
 " What's up with you, Alingdale ?'' called
 
 OR, FATED FORTUNES, 65 
 
 a middle-aged, stoutish tippler from the other 
 end of the table. " If you don't look as if 
 you had been crossed in something or other, 
 may my namesake come and take me in- 
 stanter ! " 
 
 This gentleman's name I afterwards learned 
 was Colonel Death ; and a very good- 
 humoured personage he looked. 
 
 *' Bah ! " exclaimed my lord, peevishly. 
 " Crossed ! You speak as if I were a child ; 
 
 here, pass the wine, you Hilbert. D n 
 
 me, how slow you are," he said angrily to 
 the old servant, as with a trembling hand "he 
 filled his glass. 
 
 " By Jove, Alingdale, what a Tartar you 
 are to-night ! " remonstrated the Colonel, 
 taking a seat by me, lately vacated by the 
 pretty Frenchwoman. 
 
 My lord answered nothing, but drank 
 deeply, the conversation continuing, though 
 with less noise, for he, usually the life and 
 soul of these genial spirits was silent and 
 dull to-night. 
 
 '* What is your name, my lad ? " asked the 
 Colonel, kindly, noticing my heightened colour 
 
 VOL. I. F
 
 66 STEYNEVILLE; 
 
 and shocked expression ; *' don't listen to 'em, 
 but speak to me." 
 
 " Thank you, sir," I replied. " My name 
 is Harold Steyneville." 
 
 " Steyneville, Steyneville," repeated the 
 Colonel ; " the name is perfectly familiar 
 to me. Stay — I have it — of Steyneville 
 Hall?" 
 
 I replied in the affirmative. 
 
 " You're the son of Henry Steyneville ? 
 And your mother — " (I turned pale) — "is 
 dead." — (I breathed freely again.) — "Poor 
 boy, it is hard to lose those we love, I know, 
 ain't it ? " said this great rough man, gently. 
 He did not know the truth. I inwardly 
 thanked Heaven that all the world was not 
 aware of that disgrace. 
 
 I bowed my head as if in acquiescence to 
 his last words. 
 
 " Lord," continued the Colonel, " why, your 
 father and I were great chums once. At 
 College we used to call him Saint Steyneville, 
 not that he didn't have the courage of a lion, 
 though, but because he was different to we 
 fellows, somehow. He would never swear or 
 get drunk as we did ; and yet," he mused,
 
 OR, FATED FORTUNES. 67 
 
 *' not one of us dared to call him milksop, or 
 any other name, or else, by Jove, there 
 was far more of the devil to deal with 
 than the saint." 
 
 "What on earth are you cackling about, 
 Death ? " asked a pert young gentleman 
 across the table. 
 
 " Never you mind," remarked the person 
 addressed, impressively. " I didn't ask you 
 to listen, did I ? " 
 
 The abrupt question, put with military- 
 like brevity and gravity, brought the crimson 
 blood to a cheek that had not blushed for 
 many a long day. 
 
 " Well, I only asked," said the young 
 gentleman, apologetically. 
 
 " And I only answered," returned the 
 Colonel. " I was not speaking to you — so 
 I hope that's enough." 
 
 " By heaven," cried the other fiercely, 
 springing up and putting his hand to his 
 sword, " do you wish to insult me ? " 
 
 The Colonel shrugged his shoulders. 
 
 " Gentlemen, gentlemen, the ladies will 
 hear ; be reconciled, pray," cried one. 
 
 '* By Grod," said the younger man, pas-
 
 68 STEYNEVILLE ; 
 
 sionatelj, to the one who intervened, '* Talbot, 
 he has insulted me. Let me go." 
 
 " Where to ? " broke in my Lord Aling- 
 dale, suddenly, who had hitherto been a 
 silent spectator of the scene ; " and when 
 you know where to, tell us all what for ? " 
 
 These words, spoken with a comical serenity, 
 had the desired effect. The whole company, 
 insulter and insulted, burst out a-laughing, 
 after which the antagonists shook hands and 
 were friends, and all went on as before. 
 
 Suddenly there were cries for a song. 
 Colonel Death, with characteristic good 
 humour, rose and proposed in a neat speech 
 that he would favour the assembled company. 
 In a stentorian voice, perfectly innocent and 
 free from the slightest approach to melody or 
 harmony, the merry owner of the dismal 
 name commenced, what he was pleased to 
 dub, a song. The chorus, in which all but 
 my lord vociferously joined, was : 
 
 " For he who loves not love nor wine. 
 Shall ne'er be foe or friend of mine. 
 Tra la, tra la, tra la, la, la," etc. 
 
 The other part I have completely forgotten. 
 Plainly, the whole, perhaps, was not worth
 
 OR, FATED FORTUNES. 69 
 
 remembering, only that it led to an incident. 
 But — to use that phrase which has been used 
 since time immemorial, and to all likelihood 
 will be used to eternity — let me not anticipate. 
 
 When the Colonel resumed his seat a 
 difficulty arose. The gentlemen wanted 
 another song, and there was no one to sing 
 it. Those who could were already entirely 
 oblivious to the cares of this world and the 
 uncertainty of the next. No less than six of 
 the tipplers lay under the table, not under the 
 influence of the liquors they had imbibed — 
 dear no ! the dinner and the lights had-in- 
 variably the same effect upon them every night. 
 
 " Harold," cried my lord, suddenly — he 
 had been drinking more than any of them, 
 and yet was perfectly cool — "your father 
 told me you could sing like a — let me see, 
 was it a bird — yes, I think it was. Come, 
 let's hear you, my lad; anything you will, 
 but make haste. Grentlemen," he added, 
 turning with half a sneer to those whom he 
 was pleased to call so, " my young preserver, 
 my highwaymen intimidator, will now favour 
 us. Silence, if you please." 
 
 " My lord," I began, trembling, all those
 
 70 STEYNEVILLE; 
 
 eyes bent upon me, and the oppressive 
 silence, '' I am afraid my — " 
 
 " Bah ! anything will do," interrupted my 
 lord, " don't be afraid." 
 
 " Ay, my lad, strike up," interposed the 
 Colonel ; " damme, we ain't such an amalga- 
 mation of talent here that you need show the 
 white feather, are we ? " 
 
 " No ! " from all sides. 
 
 " Now then, young gentleman," cried 
 Captain Talbot, good-naturedly. 
 
 " Mon Dieu, comme il est lache ! " murmured 
 a French gentleman at the end of the table, 
 whose looks I did not like. 
 
 *' De la Motte," exclaimed Colonel Death, 
 taking my part, addressing the handsome, 
 though evil-looking gentleman significantly, 
 " I can't understand your heathenish lingo, 
 but you are saying nothing very pretty about 
 the boy, / know. Just leave him alone, will 
 you, and oblige yours truly ? " 
 
 " Ma foi ! how droll you are, my Colonel." 
 He pronounced it Coll-o-nelle. "I — " 
 
 " Are you going to begin," cries my lord, 
 impatiently, *'or are we to stay here all 
 night ? "
 
 OR, FATED FORTUNES, 71 
 
 His tones resolved me, and I began, 
 timidly at first, bat gaining courage as I 
 sang on, for I was again in my dear home, 
 near my father. Again I saw the weird 
 grounds through the open windows. I forgot 
 my surroundings, I forgot everything. The 
 gentlemen, the lights, levity, strangeness, all 
 vanished. I was alone, save with my dear 
 protector, singing the song that he loved — 
 
 "WHERE THE VIOLET GROWS." 
 
 " Where the violet grows, 
 
 On the wood's green ground, 
 Where the west wind blows • 
 
 Soft sighs around, 
 
 " Where the running stream 
 Its clear course flows, 
 Where the moon's soft beam 
 Her silver throws, 
 
 " Where the tender thought 
 That Youth once bore — 
 Ere cold Truth taught — 
 Comes back once more, 
 
 " Where the violet grows 
 In the deep wold's glen, 
 Where the west wind blows 
 From the ways of men, 
 
 " Would I gladly flee 
 
 If Heav'n once more 
 Gave back to me 
 The trust of yore."
 
 72 STEYNEVILLE. 
 
 When I came to the last line the unbidden 
 tears started to my eyes. I was prepared to 
 hear a roar of laughter. Instead, when I had 
 finished, they one and all declared that, 
 though the words were tame enough, the 
 song was good, and the singer better. In 
 brief, I had pleased all but M. de la Motte, 
 who said that, as everyone was delighted with 
 psalm-singing, he would ask M. I'Abbe, on 
 his right hand, to be good enough to preach 
 them a sermon there and then on temperance, 
 after which, he said, the wine might be taken 
 away, and all might twiddle their thumbs, 
 cast up their eyes, and groan for their sins. 
 
 M. de la Motte had taken a dislike to me, 
 that was certain, and I, on my part, as I 
 caught his dark, fine, sinister eyes bent upon 
 me, felt 
 
 " The reason why, I can tell thee not, 
 But I do not like thee— De la Motte ! "
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 Time went on, and I had been already six 
 months in my lady's service, when I com- 
 menced to notice a strange fact, viz. : that 
 M. de la Motte had wound himself into my 
 mistress's good graces, and that he was a 
 more frequent visitor at the castle than any- 
 one else, excepting her kinsman, my Lord 
 Alingdale. 
 
 Time went on, but the first bad impres- 
 sion made upon me by my lady's favourite 
 lost none of its pristine power ; indeed, if 
 possible, I disliked the gentleman more than 
 ever. I know he harmed my reputation 
 with my haughty mistress considerably, by 
 telling her a most abominable falsehood. He 
 had the audacity to say that I kissed the
 
 74 STEYNEVILLE; 
 
 servant-maids, and that when the gentlefolks 
 were in bed I crept down into the kitchen, 
 and there made merry with the menials, and 
 drank and laughed with them. 
 
 This scandal incensed my mistress ex- 
 ceedingly, and especially being entirely inno- 
 cent of the charges laid against my door, " I 
 was hypocritical enough to look sanctified, and 
 shocked at other people's want of modesty,'^ 
 Tvhen I failed in that very respect myself. 
 So my lord gave me to understand one 
 evening as I sat translating some French 
 verses into English prose for his kinswoman. 
 
 " Now, Steyneville," he said, sitting down 
 by me with a smile, " I have come on no 
 pleasant mission. 0, you wicked young dog, 
 so young, and so — fie, fie — " shaking his fore- 
 finger at me. 
 
 Naturally not knowing why he addressed 
 me in these terms, I looked as others would 
 have looked, under the circumstances, mys- 
 tified. 
 
 " Come, that won't do, Mr. Innocent," 
 cried my lord, rather sternly. ''You know 
 very well what I mean — Betty and Sue,, 
 kissing, &c."
 
 OR, FATED FORTUNES. lb 
 
 "My lord," I exclaimed, springiDg from 
 my seat, not knowing what to make of his 
 last words, '' indeed I do not know to what 
 you allude. I — indeed — " My speech failed, 
 but my unfeigned look of astonishment amply 
 served me. No guilty person could have ex- 
 pressed such sincere wonderment in being 
 impeached of a sin which had never been 
 committed as I. 
 
 "Well," said my lord, considerably puzzled, 
 " I don't know what to make of the affair. 
 Someone told my lady that you had been 
 embracing the opportunity to embrace — her 
 servants," he said, slyly. " In fact, that you 
 had been carousing with them, and behaving 
 altogether in a manner extremely discredit- 
 able to my recommendation and to my 
 cousins taste." 
 
 " My lord ! " cried I, boiling with rage at 
 the unfounded accusation, " I swear it is a 
 lie ; I know nothing of the matter, and am 
 entirely innocent. Let me face the person 
 who thus slanders the son of my father, and 
 I will make him eat his words — by Heaven, 
 I will." 
 
 Now I come to consider the matter in a
 
 76 STEYNEVILLE; 
 
 more philosophical light, I think these were 
 bold words for a lad of thirteen. 
 
 " Bravo, Harold ! " said my lord. " I 
 knew, I thought it couldn't be true from 
 the first, and I will be very glad to vindicate 
 your character to my lady." 
 
 In my hour of adversity, I was so pleased 
 to find that he, at least, had believed in my 
 honour, that, in my gratitude, I knelt and 
 kissed his hand. 
 
 " Stay," said he ; " before I find my kins- 
 woman, tell me if you know anyone who 
 bears you any malice, who would fabricate 
 the story to injure you ? " 
 
 I shook my head sorrowfully. I had done 
 no one any harm, so who would take a plea- 
 sure in injuring the name of a lad — a mere 
 lad? 
 
 "Think," said Lord Halifax. ''Ponder 
 well. Is there no one whom you think 
 capable of so despicable an act — none ? 
 Come, don't be afraid to tell me," as I 
 hesitated. " If you are wrong none shall 
 know. Is it I'Abbe Chatroniere, my lady's 
 chaplain ? " 
 
 *' 0, no ; he has been very kind to me," I
 
 OR, FATED FORTUNES. 77 
 
 answered hastily, afraid to mention the name 
 of the man whom I really thought guilty. 
 
 '' Colonel Death ? " he suggested. 
 
 "Nay, indeed I like him very much. I 
 know he would not harm me," I cried, " for 
 he has been very good to me." 
 
 " Who then ? " 
 
 " My lord, since you will have me mention 
 the gentleman whom I greatly mistrust, 
 through no reason whatever, only that I 
 know he dislikes me — " 
 
 " To what does all this lead ? — out with 
 it," exclaimed my lord, impatiently. " His 
 name ? '* 
 
 " M. de la Motte," 1 returned, trembling 
 with apprehension. 
 
 " Humph," answered my lord, with a start. 
 "Very queer; but it is the gentleman who 
 mahgned you to my lady, and what's more, I 
 don't trust the dark-eyed fellow myself; 
 there smacks much of the spy in him. A 
 close, deep villain. Have you ever remarked 
 him scenting about the place, as if in search, 
 like a hound on the track, eh ? " 
 
 It was my turn to start now. I had often 
 seen him peering about the study in which I
 
 78 STE YNE VILLE ; 
 
 worked, opening the drawers, tapping the 
 strong boxes that contained musty docu- 
 ments and papers of the Norton family. But 
 I had never thought anything of the fact till 
 now. Now that my benefactor had men- 
 tioned the word " spy," it occurred tome M. 
 de la Motte was very like one, or I was much 
 mistaken. 
 
 " Now listen, Steyneville," said my lord, 
 impressively, when I had communicated the 
 fact to him. *' I believe, I know I can rely 
 on your secrecy and intelligence — " 
 
 I bowed to the first, and blushed for the 
 second. 
 
 " I have cause to consider this man, de la 
 Motte, an unprincipled adventurer — a man 
 who would not scruple to gain secrets and 
 sell them afterwards," he pursued. " Now, 
 I want you to watch him carefully. If he is 
 an emissary of the Government, a paid spy, 
 his actions must betray him at last, and, if 
 they do, it will fare badly with him, I 
 warrant. Those strong boxes that you 
 mention contain valuable papers. If they 
 are found by enemies my Lady Norton will 
 suffer."
 
 OR, FATED FORTUNES. 79 
 
 "Are they treasonable, tlien?" I asked, 
 breathlessly. 
 
 " Tush. I, that have no cause or king, 
 or queen either, for the matter of that, 
 know nothing of what you call treasonable. 
 Whether they place a monkey or a puppet 
 on the throne matters little to me. But 
 not so to the lady you serve; she is a 
 Jacobite, and upholds the true cause " — 
 all this was said very sneeringly — " but, 
 Jacobite or no Jacobite, cause or no cause, 
 it is my duty to see that her life and. 
 honour are not placed in jeopardy, and,* if 
 they are, to do my best to rescue them, as 
 her kinsman and friend. Do you under- 
 stand ? " he asked, breaking off abruptly, 
 and. fixing his searching eyes on me. 
 
 " Yes, my lord. Am I," I added, with a 
 heightened colour, " to be a spy over M. de 
 la Motte because he is one ?" 
 
 '' Stejneville, Saint Steyneville," said my 
 lord, laughing and yawning lazily, " what a 
 glorious specimen of an earthly angel thou 
 art ! By-the-bye, I am not so sure," banter- 
 ing with his light, easy manner, '' that I don't 
 see a halo at the back of thee, as it is. Step
 
 80 STEY NEVILLE; 
 
 a little awaj, for mercy's sake ; the light is 
 too dazzling ! " 
 
 ''My lord," I answered, in a low voice, 
 "you have told me to watch M. de la 
 IVIotte— " 
 
 " And I decidedly wish you would," inter- 
 posed Lord Alingdale, " for many reasons. 
 Firstly you are the only one I would trust ; 
 secondly — " 
 
 " Pardon me, my lord," I interrupted, with 
 a low bow, " that reason is sufficient. I will 
 endeavour to be worthy of that trust you 
 honour me with." 
 
 " Spoken like a brave lad," he exclaimed, 
 clapping me on the shoulder — " like the lad I 
 took thee for ; if," he continued, and his gay 
 manner left him as he became wonderfully 
 earnest, " if thy conscience hath scruples in 
 doing what I ask of you, remember this, that 
 there is many a falsehood uttered which the 
 heaven thou believest in loveth often more 
 than the cold truth. Thou under standest 
 me, I see ; for the present I will say nothing 
 to my lady of de la Motto's treachery. 
 Words will avail nothing with her. She 
 must have proofs, and she shall."
 
 OR, FATED FORTUNES. 81 
 
 There was a light tap at the door, and the 
 head of Colonel Death popped in. 
 
 " Hallo Alingdale, I've been racing all over 
 the place for you," he began. 
 
 "Now you have found me. Death, what 
 on earth do you want ? " said my lord, rather 
 angry with the interruption. 
 
 " Damme, but that's a very friendly wel- 
 come, I must confess." 
 
 " Oui, oui, vous avez quelque chose a con- 
 fesser," said another voice outside, proceed- 
 ing evidently from the fat, good-tempered 
 little Abbe Chatroniere. " Yat is it ? vat is 
 it?" he said, hurrying into the room in a 
 violent perspiration, occasioned by the exer- 
 cise of ascending one flight of stairs. ''Is 
 it you. Colonel, that has done some 
 things wrong that your conscience cannot 
 support ; vite, my infant, I will hear you, en 
 bas, and then you can go to dinner with a 
 vite mind." 
 
 " And an empty stomach," added my lord. 
 " There, Death, can you resist the father's 
 temptation ? " 
 
 " Ah, moqueur ! " cried the Abbe, " are 
 you changing also our young friend into a 
 
 VOL. I. G
 
 82 STETNEVILLE. 
 
 giour like yourself. Heed liim not, c'est un 
 precepteur very bad, milore Alingdale," he 
 added, turning to me. 
 
 " Still, thougli lie believes not, lie is alive, 
 M. TAbbe," answered my lord, half bitterly, 
 
 " Ah, that goes not well ; for it is natural 
 that a man must exist to believe in nothing ! " 
 
 " And when he has ceased to exist," in- 
 quired my lord, jestingly, " I suppose he 
 believes ' pour sur ? ' " 
 
 " Then he believes," answered the Abbe, 
 reverently crossing himself. 
 
 " He begins to believe when he is dead, 
 ell ? " asked my lord, cynically. 
 
 " Yes, for man is a spirit covered by flesh, 
 and the spirit lives when the flesh is gone and 
 dead. The spirit lives for ever, and then, 
 dans les regions de — in one of the regions of 
 the two other worlds into which his spirit flees, 
 he must believe in that which, when his flesh 
 lived, he scorned, mais, je vent dire — but I 
 cannot explain to you in your hard, hard 
 tongue, that which I could render so facile to 
 your understanding in my own sweet lan- 
 guage," he said, rather helplessly. 
 
 " So " answered my lord, lightly — " I am to
 
 OR, FATED FORTUNES, 83 
 
 understand by your argument, Abbe, that 
 a man hath but one suit of clothes — flesh, 
 I mean — ask a million pardons — and when 
 that has worn out, Nature — 0, what an un- 
 kindly tailor she is ! — refuses under any 
 condition to give him a new — " 
 
 " Mon Dieu ! " cried the Abbe, raising his 
 eyes to the ceiling, and clasping his fat little 
 paws, *' be still, be tranquil, milore, and go 
 away with M. le Colonel, and drink, eat, 
 sleep, shout; do anything but dispute upon a 
 grave sujet avec tant de levit^e." 
 
 0, what a funny little creature that Abbe 
 was ! After dinner, with all his preaching, 
 he was as tipsy as any of the younger and 
 more secular spirits ! 
 
 "Now Abbe," interposed Colonel Death, 
 confidentially, '' what is your opinion of a 
 man who hasn't a religion ? " 
 
 " Yat would be yours, as a soldier, M. le 
 Colonel," asked the staunch Abbe, *' of a 
 beautiful city which hath no inhabitants ? " 
 
 " Ah ! that question requires considera- 
 tion,*' answered the Colonel, musingly. 
 
 " And so does j^ours, my Colonel," re- 
 turned the divine, promptly.
 
 84 STETNEVILLE; 
 
 I have forgotten to mention that the good 
 Abbe was kind enough to give me lessons in 
 Latin for an hour every day, and as I had not 
 yet received my hour that day he lost no 
 time in clearing the two gentlemen out of the 
 room to give me my time, for the dinner bell 
 would soon ring, and M. I'Abbe liked to do 
 his duty, so he could eat his fill without any 
 twinges in his innocent conscience. 
 
 Three-quarters soon passed, and the loud 
 gong began to sound fifteen minutes to the 
 dinner hour. 
 
 The Abbe rose from the desk. As he did 
 so I remembered, with a kind of despair, that 
 I had not finished the translation given to me 
 by my mistress for the following day. I 
 could not take the magnificently bound 
 volume away with me, and if I did not have 
 the work ready for the next morning she 
 would doubtless believe I had been neglectful 
 and idle. The Abbe noticed my look of 
 misery, and asked me the cause. Having in- 
 formed him the reason of my downcast coun- 
 tenance, he said — 
 
 " What matters that ? Apres le dinner you 
 can mount and finish your work, and all will
 
 OE, FATED FORTUNES. 85 
 
 he well. Dame ! mon gar^on, la tristesse 
 becomes thee not." 
 
 " Ah, no ! " I answered in French. " Mj 
 lady will miss me. The truth will come out, 
 and I shall be undone. What shall I do ? " 
 
 " Do ! " repeated the divine, rather testily, 
 " do — do what I tell thee. After dinner thou 
 mountest into this apartment with tranquillity. 
 I will make thy excuses if any are needed ; 
 but tiens, there are none necessary. To-night 
 is le grand jeu card playing, and all will be 
 so bent on the play that none shall notice thy 
 absence. Here,'' he continued, pointing t& a 
 small recess, " if anyone chances to enter 
 they cannot perceive thee unless of course 
 they search, which they will not." 
 
 Having joyfully thanked the Abbe for his 
 good counsel we separated to dress, and what 
 came of my night work I think deserves a 
 chapter to itself.
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 The dinner was at an end. And the gentle- 
 men, left to themselves, in the absence of the 
 fairer sex, sought consolation for their loss in 
 the bottle. Judging by the quantity of wine 
 they imbibed I think their grief must have 
 been very, very great. There was a greater 
 number than usual assembled around the 
 board that night, since, as the Abb^ had told 
 me, it was the evening of the " grand-jeu," 
 when the guests played cards often till j&ve 
 and six o'clock in the morning. This card- 
 festival was held once a month ; many who 
 came to the castle comparatively poor went 
 away rich, and vice-versa, many who came 
 rich went away poor. I have seen a gentle- 
 man play for his shoe buckles, his ruffles, and
 
 STEYNEVILLE. 87 
 
 the very wig wpon his head. They carried 
 their enthusiasm for gaming to a high pitch. 
 I was uneasy ; I wished to be gone, and 
 I could find no opportunity as yet. My lord 
 was lounging with his chair against the door, 
 and as the whole affair was of so trivial a 
 nature I did not wish to trouble him with it ; 
 besides, I know he would have commanded 
 me to stop, saying he would arrange it with 
 my lady about my not having performed my 
 duties if I had told him, and so I was firmly 
 resolved not to acquaint him of the matter. 
 But how to escape as yet it was impfac- 
 ticable, so awaitiug any chance to present 
 itself I listened to the conversation. It was 
 about love-letters, and not of a very en- 
 lightening nature. 
 
 " I declare, upon my oath," said a beau of 
 some nineteen summers, in light blue, " that 
 I have received, from some fair creatures, 
 O, innumerable billets which I wouldn't even 
 take the trouble to answer. Curse me — a 
 man (?) would have a deal to do." 
 
 "Ha — ha — ha!" roared the outright 
 Colonel Death, immensely tickled. " I sin- 
 cerely beg pardon ; go on, pray."
 
 88 STEYNEVILLE; 
 
 But the anecdote was lost to some of the 
 youth's listening admirers, who glanced up 
 angry, discomfited, and defeated. 
 
 "Jupiter Olympus!" exclaimed another 
 exquisite. '' Speaking about billets, come to 
 my rooms; I've a neat little boudoir com- 
 pletely papered with 'em ! " 
 
 It is a positive fact that all young gentle- 
 men boast of their powers of enchanting, be 
 they ever so stupid or ugly, they all have 
 their Yeni, Yedi, Yici affairs ! 
 
 " Bah," cried a third, unwilling to be out- 
 done by the last speaker, " I receive so 
 many, that I have scarcely time to read them 
 all — here are some," he said, tossing a packet 
 on the table, " that my villain slipped into my 
 hand as I came from my place." 
 
 They were pounced upon by several eager 
 hands and eyes, whose owners were ready to 
 sneer and laugh over the lines that perhaps 
 some good, loving woman had penned. 
 
 " To tell the honest truth," quoth a fourth 
 supercilious-looking fellow — 
 
 The Colonel trod on my foot, under cover 
 of the table. It might have been inad- 
 vertently, for, when I looked at him, he was
 
 OR, FATED FORTUNES, 89 
 
 paying, or seeming to pay, the greatest 
 possible attention to the speaker. 
 
 " I never take a man " (he meant valet) 
 " unless he has an exquisite sense of 
 smell ! "— 
 
 " Ma foi, c'est bien extraordinaire," ejacu- 
 lated the Abbe Chatroniere, " why?" 
 
 " Because," returned the ladies' heart- 
 breaker, '' I am so right down sick of billets- 
 doux, that I never wish to see any of them." 
 
 " I do not see that very clear, sir," remarks 
 the little divine, with a puzzled expression. 
 " What has the nose of your valet-de-chamT)re 
 to do with ladies' letters ? 
 
 " Everything," returned the other, com- 
 placently. " Do you not know. Abbe, that the 
 charming creatures always scent their notes, 
 and my man sniffing from whence they come 
 either keeps or burns them ! " 
 
 "Ah, monsieur," cried the Abbe, "one day 
 you will get much of annoyances through 
 affairs like these. Take care, I warn you." 
 
 '' Thank you. Abbe," said the gentleman, 
 politely, "I will." 
 
 " This is too good," roared a dandy of 
 some fifty winters, perusing one of the
 
 90 STEYNEVILLE; 
 
 billets-doux. " Just listen to this/' and he 
 read as follows : — 
 
 *' ^ I cannot bear the suspense any longer. 
 It is now three long weeks since I have seen 
 jou. . . . You are breaking my heart. My 
 heart, do I say; it is false, I have no heart of 
 my own, for that which I once possessed is 
 now entirely yours. Oh, if you cannot love 
 me any more, give me back that which you 
 have taken, and yet how dare I write it ! . . . 
 I would rather that you sfcill keep it, and give 
 me yours instead ; you vowed I had it once — ■ 
 ah, that dear, dear once, will it ever come 
 back again ? I cannot tell you how much it 
 has cost me to write this confession ; but 
 that my parents wish me to marry someone 
 of their choice — fancy ! when you have pos- 
 session of my very soul. Come back then, 
 come back to your heartbroken 
 
 " Caroline.'" 
 
 This was the substance of the missive, 
 written on delicate gilt-edged paper, with a 
 coronet stamped on the outside. Its perusal 
 was greeted with considerable applause and. 
 lausfhter.
 
 OR, FATED FORTUNES. 91 
 
 " Death," cried my lord, suddenly, " what 
 was the note I saw handed to you this morn- 
 ing, over which you blushed as rosy as — give 
 me a simile, one of you fellows." 
 
 "An Eastern morn?" hazarded one. 
 
 " A moss-rose ? " asked another. 
 
 "A pickled cabbage?" cried a witling. 
 
 " All far too common and ordinary," re- 
 sponded my lord. 
 
 "Never mind the simile, let the simile go 
 to the d — 1, Alingdale," screamed a high 
 prelate of the Romish Church, seated at the 
 head of the table ; " tell us the matter that 
 the note contained." 
 
 " The very thing I wish to know myself. 
 I was asking a question, may it please your 
 lordship, not stating a fact " returned the 
 other calmly, '' but to return to the simile, 
 I have hit upon one myself, ' Death blushed 
 as red as a cardinars hat ' and the hat being 
 the simile, it will go to the devil — when its 
 owner takes it there." 
 
 My lord then sate down with a most un- 
 concerned expression on his face, and the 
 cardinal remained thoughtful and silent for 
 the rest of the eveninof.
 
 :92 STEYNEVILLE ; 
 
 Whilst every ear and eye had centred its 
 attention on the two speakers, I noticed that 
 one of the gentlemen, he who had given 
 ■'' pickled cabbage " for a simile, had stolen 
 stealthily from his chair, behind that of 
 Colonel Death's, and deftly took his letter 
 ■case from out his pocket. Having accom- 
 plished this feat of dexterity, he betook him- 
 self to his seat again, and was soon absorbed 
 in the contents of his theft. 
 
 Presently he cried out, waving a piece of 
 paper, " I have it ! I have it ! " 
 
 ''Have what?" asked M. de la Motte, who 
 had made me very uncomfortable by staring 
 .at me with his bold, evil eyes. 
 
 " The letter that Death received this morn- 
 ing, that Alingdale spoke about." 
 
 The Colonel turned pale, and clapped his 
 hands to his pockets. 
 
 "Ay, it is dated to-day," continued the 
 •other, " and please hold him while I read it, 
 or he'll throttle me." 
 
 "j^Tay, nay, that's not fair," began the 
 -Colonel. 
 
 " All is fair in love and war," said Lord 
 Alingdale ; '* begin, Arbuckle."
 
 OR, FATED FORTUNES. 93*- 
 
 This was James Arbuckle, the poet, 
 commonlj called '* Jim." He read as fol- 
 lows : — 
 
 " HoNOEED Sir, — May the blessings of an 
 Almighty God ever shouer upon you the 
 happiness you deserve, is the prayer of your 
 humble sarvent. Arter I had given some of 
 that beautiful wine and a little meat, as the 
 vicar says they must'nt ha' too much at first, 
 to my darter she was much, much better,, 
 and. fell asleep and awoke agen this blissed 
 mornin' as frash and lively as I dun kpoe 
 what. 
 
 *' My harte is so full of thankfulness and 
 joy that my poor words can't say, no, not 
 one half that they would. The mony you sent, 
 dear gentleman, will make us now happy and 
 comfortabel. I can't see to write no more, 
 my mind be far to full, and my een too 
 waterie' to permit of me saying all. 
 
 " Again entreatin' a blessin' from Him, for 
 you who was so good to the wider wed and 
 fatherless, I remain your obedient, obliged,, 
 and humble sarvent, 
 
 " Sophy Bailey."
 
 M STEYNEVILLE ; 
 
 " There, gentlemen," cried " Jim," as he 
 finished the epistle, there sits 
 
 * The humble Death, who with an awkward shame, 
 Does good by stealth, and blushes to find it fame.' 
 
 And with due respect to Mr. Pope, and an 
 unfeigned sorrow to put his sweet lines out 
 of metre, I beg to propose the health of 
 Death, and long life to him, an honour to 
 his country and to humanity. Hip, hip, 
 hurrah ! " 
 
 And amid the general hubbub and excite- 
 ment that followed the toast, I managed to 
 make my escape. 
 
 Once in the library, I placed my writing 
 materials on the desk, in the recess that the 
 Abbe had pointed out to me, and which was 
 screened from view by a heavy curtain, 
 trimmed my lamp, and sat down to com- 
 mence work. But somehow or other my 
 mind, in spite of me, would revert to other 
 things. Twice I caught myself writing 
 some wholly extraneous matter than that 
 which I had in hand. In despair I laid 
 down my pen for a minute and buried my 
 face in my hands. I could not help cogi- 
 tating over Colonel Death and his letter, M.
 
 on, FATED FORTUNES. 95 
 
 de la Motte, my lady, and lastly — but not 
 least — my liome and my father. My medi- 
 tations did not tend to calm or lessen my 
 emotions by any means ; on the contrary, 
 they rather seemed to grow and increase. 
 My feelings were decidedly of a mixed kind. 
 I could not tell which predominated. Anger 
 and hate against de la Motte for his treachery, 
 love and sorrow for my dear home, or admir- 
 ation for Colonel Death. As these powers 
 were battling against each other for victory 
 within me, I heard a footstep near the door, 
 and the handle turned. Without another 
 moment's thought I blew out the light, and 
 awaited with breathless anxiety for the result. 
 
 " Somebody coming for a book," thought I. 
 
 The door opened cautiously, and a man 
 entered with a candle. As he held it up to 
 look about I recognized the face — M. de la 
 Motte. He was very pale, and his features 
 looked haggard and worn. I could see that 
 very well, even though I could not venture 
 more than a peep from my recess. He had 
 been playing — and losing. 
 
 " Curse it,' ' said he, setting the light upon 
 the table.
 
 96 STEYNEVILLE; 
 
 '' Curse it ! Always my luck. Playing- 
 witli a clear head and with skill against 
 a set of drunken fools, I lose. I wish that 
 the money would turn to red-hot living coals 
 in their pockets, and burn them to cinders. I 
 wish — Bah, shall I trouble about un jeu de 
 carte, when I have such a great game in 
 hand ? Camille de la Motte, thou art an 
 idiot thyself, far greater than either of t hose- 
 sottish Englishmen downstairs, if thou heedest 
 such a loss. A future is before thee ; thou 
 hast gained the — well, love of that English 
 tigress, Miladi Norton ; thou hast gained her 
 confidence. She is a Jacobite, and hath 
 papers of much value hidden somewhere — 
 papers for which the EngHsh Government 
 pay well, and then — money, flight, and 
 pleasure. Aha ! " he continued, with a sar- 
 donic look, " who would recognise in M. de 
 la Motte the now accomplished, the fine 
 gentleman, the former destitute outcast 
 of Paris ? Who would believe that he, a 
 virtuoso, a connoisseur in all matters of 
 fine art, but a few short years ago was 
 a ragged and dirty urchin in France ? 
 None would credit it — and I myself least of
 
 OBy FATED FORTUNES. 97 
 
 all ! * C'est n'est que I'audace, qui trouve 
 la place' — in this world at least everything 
 else may go to the wall but audacity — yes, 
 audacity and impudence will make the very 
 sun wink. Ah ! Camille, Camille, but a 
 little more acting and thou will be opulent ; 
 and what though thy wealth be gained by a 
 little treachery — treachery, pshaw ! What is 
 it that pink of honour, that devil of a Lord 
 Alingdale, said to-night — * All is fair in love 
 and war.' So be it. And I am an honest 
 man. A quarter to eleven," he said, consult- 
 ing the timepiece, ''and she will be here -in 
 fifteen minutes. She will meet her true love 
 in the library, her Camille, 'My Olympia.' 
 Pah ! With all her esprit and genius she, too, 
 is but a vain fool, or how can she believe that I 
 love one untamed and wild as she is ? But 
 soft, my friend, thou must calm thyself; 
 thou art not fit to play the fond adorer in 
 this mood. Yes," looking in the mirror, " that 
 wan, haggard countenance is good, it seemeth 
 as if thou wert labouring under the burden of 
 love unrequited. Very good indeed, very 
 good. I have her love, but if I obtain her 
 
 VOL. I. H
 
 98 STEYNEVILLE; 
 
 pity ; ^/, again if, I know she will pity me, 
 and then I will tell her my sorrows, and she 
 will tell me hers. Ay, we will mutually con- 
 fide, and — " He gave vent to a laugh that 
 absolutely made me shudder with horror. 
 
 Presently, a few minutes after the clock 
 had struck eleven, my lady entered. M. de 
 la Motte took her hand with a great show of 
 respect, and kissed it. 
 
 " Ah ! " he said, " late, and I have been 
 waiting so long for you ; the very minutes 
 seemed like years." 
 
 " A truce to compliments," answered my 
 lady, smiling nevertheless. 
 
 '' A truce to them if you will, Madame," 
 he returned with such well-feigned sadness 
 in his tones that I no longer wondered that 
 my lady believed him. " A truce to them, 
 since I pay no flattery, but my looks, surely 
 they cannot lie, they — " 
 
 " Stay," she cried earnestly, '' whose fault 
 is it that you are so strangely altered — for 
 altered you are ? " 
 
 " Whose fault ? " asked the other in 
 mournful accents. " You ask me ? Ah ! 
 men Dieu, have pity," he cried, sinking on
 
 OR, FATED FORTUNES. 99 
 
 his knee, and seizing no unwilling hand and 
 pressing his lips passionately upon it. 
 
 She did not attempt to withdraw or 
 repulse him, this strange woman, but looked 
 on the dark head bent over her hand half- 
 passionatelj and half-proudly. 
 
 "You say no word?" he asked, looking 
 up. "Ah ! cruel, cruel." 
 
 "What would you have me say?" she 
 answered softly. 
 
 " Camille, I love you." 
 
 " Camille," returned my lady unhesi- 
 tatingly, placing her hands on his shoulders, 
 and gazing straight into his eyes, " Camille, 
 I adore you." 
 
 " And trust — " 
 
 " You implicitly ? Yes." 
 
 " Thanks, thanks ; many thanks. I knew 
 it," said the spy, with a joy he could not dis- 
 guise. " What happiness," cried he, as if in 
 transport, " to be loved by such a woman ; 
 but tell me, have you never loved before, my 
 Olympia ? " 
 
 " Never once, through all the years of my 
 life, and I am thirty. You see I do not even 
 disguise my age from you, though all think I
 
 100 STETNEVILLE; 
 
 am considerably younger. I have never 
 loved before now, and now — " 
 
 "And now?" he repeated, as if waiting 
 with breathless anxiety for an answer. 
 
 " And now," she continued, '' I who never 
 dreamed myself capable of any fond passion 
 in common with my sex, feel, know how 
 much, how greatly I have erred. Ah! my 
 Camille, I, whom the world thinks cold, 
 haughty, and proud, thou canst tell another 
 tale. Is it not so ? Where, where is the 
 pride of Olympia Norton now ? " cried the 
 poor woman with such passionate earnest- 
 ness that the tears started down my cheeks. 
 '^ Where is it ? It hath gone, and left in its 
 stead — " 
 
 " An undying love," said the spy, half 
 afraid, I thought, of my lady's devotion. 
 
 " You say so," she answered, " Camille, 
 and I believe you." 
 
 " But tell me, my own," he asked presently, 
 after he had made a long speech about his 
 passion, and which is too prolix to recapitu- 
 late, " is there no thing, person, or cause 
 which or whom you wish to love, serve as 
 
 you-"
 
 OR, FATED FORTUNES, 101 
 
 She started from the encircling arm, and 
 looked fixedly at him. 
 
 " Ah, Madame ! " exclaimed the Chevalier 
 d'industrie, with a slight irony, " and so this, 
 this is how you trust me ? Ma foi ! *' with a 
 sneering laugh, " the French ladies trust very 
 differently." 
 
 "But I am half French," answered the 
 dupe ; " my mother was French, and I love 
 France, and my prince is in that country ! 
 There, you see," she continued in a colder 
 tone, piqued by his sarcasm, " my confidence 
 in you is unimpaired, since I have confessed so 
 much." 
 
 " So much ! my Olympia," said the other, 
 tenderly ; "so little ! For could I serve that 
 cause I should deem myself more worthy 
 of your love. But I cannot. I have no power 
 to do so, even though I would. It must be 
 said," added the traitor, acting a splendid 
 animation, " that a nobody won the peerless 
 Olympia Norton, with nothing ; that — " 
 
 " Hush," cried my lady, rising and pacing 
 the room with a hurried step, her vanity and 
 ambition both aroused by the wily French- 
 man's speech.
 
 102 STEYNEVILLE; 
 
 It was true what lie said. He was a 
 nobody, a nothing. No, the woman whose 
 work was to pull down one throne, and 
 raise another in its place, must not descend 
 so low as to — Again no. He had touched 
 her pride to the quick. She would give him 
 an opportunity to distinguish his name from 
 obscurity — together they would share the 
 sweets and honour of a noble labour. All 
 this was written on her working counten- 
 ance — fatally clear. And the adventurer 
 knew he had won the game. 
 
 She then informed him of the whole 
 revolutionary scheme. That the young Pre- 
 tender was waiting in readiness to embark 
 from the French coast when the signal should 
 come acquainting him of the people's willing- 
 ness to receive him as their king. And that 
 she possessed papers signed by many unsus- 
 pected partisans of the true cause, at the 
 head of which party she was. These docu- 
 ments, she told him in conclusion, would, 
 if found, naturally place in great jeopardy 
 those malcontents who had inscribed their 
 names to a paper in support of so wild a 
 project.
 
 OR, FATED FORTUNES. 103 
 
 " And where, ma mie, do jou keep those 
 precious papers ? " he asked. 
 
 " Tn this room ; in yonder iron box, on 
 the top of the bookcase," she answered, 
 whisperinglj. ** But I must return now, or 
 thej will miss me. We can go to the end of 
 the passage together, and then separate." 
 
 Having arranged another interview for the 
 next evening, in the same place, my mistress 
 and M. de la Motte went out together. 
 
 About ten minutes after, the fisfure of a 
 lad with a pale visage might have been seen 
 hurrying down the corridors, past the grand 
 salon, where the ladies and gentlemen were 
 bent on their cards. This was myself.
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 The next day I lost no time in acquainting 
 my protector, Lord Alingdale, of that which 
 I had heard and seen on the preceding night 
 in the library. Although he viewed the 
 whole of the transactions in a grave light, I 
 think he was not altogether unprepared for 
 the discovery of de la Motte's treachery, 
 having suspected that person from the first. 
 That which troubled him most was this : he 
 knew not how to convince his kinswoman of 
 the truth. 
 
 " If we could but seize him red-handed," 
 said he, musingly. " It would be the only 
 way, I am sorely afraid, of bringing my lady 
 to her senses." 
 
 " But," said I, " my lady must believe you, 
 my lord, since — "
 
 STEYNEVILLE. 105 
 
 " Since, since what ? " returned Lord 
 Alingdale, shrugging his shoulders. " Since 
 Eve ate the apple that she was told not to, 
 I suppose, eh ? Bah ! Thou art a good lad, 
 and a clever one, but thou knowest very 
 little of women's ways if thou think'st that 
 my lady will credit our tale without any 
 stronger evidence against her lover than 
 words." 
 
 I held my peace for a few minutes. How 
 differently, thought I, does my lord think of 
 women to my father. The one who has 
 been deceived still holds them in venera^on 
 and love; the one who has deceived looks 
 upon them as things formed but to beguile 
 a wanton hour. 
 
 The Abbe Chatroniere had said, " That a 
 man without a religion was like a beautiful 
 city without an inhabitant." Very true. 
 But how can love, veneration, and belief 
 inhabit a man who has never seen either of 
 these before him ? My lord's parents had 
 died in his infancy, and he, left to the charge 
 of mercenary relatives, had grown from child- 
 hood to manhood unloved, untrusting, and 
 .beliefless.
 
 106 STEYNEVILLE; 
 
 ** Affection ! Speak of affection to one 
 who has passed his young life amongst 
 grasping, hardened men and women ! 
 Veneration, to one who has seen nothing 
 but hypocrisy — whose very preceptors have 
 paved the path to unbelief, and whilst in the 
 search for truth, out-reason and out-argue 
 the very bases and foundations of ' religion ! ' 
 Belief, to one who has grown up amidst 
 those admired and eulogised by the world 
 — with a thorough perception and know- 
 ledge that they on whom were bestowed 
 such liberal encomiums and applause were 
 often infinitely baser clay than the very 
 multitude who worshipped them ! " 
 
 Thus said my lord bitterly to me one day,, 
 long after, when I remonstrated with him 
 after he had read me a portion of a scathing 
 lampoon he had just written relating to some 
 much-debated and discussed Church griev- 
 ance. This pamphlet breathed a spirit of 
 irreverence and mockery, a total want of any 
 sentiment but that of impiety, yet withal 
 every point was so logically, and soundly, 
 and incontestably reasoned out in support 
 of his own theory that many would have-
 
 OR, FATED FORTUNES. 107 
 
 been unquestionably carried away by his 
 specious argument, only that my remon- 
 strance had the desired effect. He never 
 published it, and the manuscript is now 
 amongst my most prized possessions, j^ot 
 that I value it for its ingenuity, but because 
 it was written by a dear hand. 
 
 Colonel Death expressed his opinion on the 
 pamphlet briefly, but conclusively. With a 
 pursing of the lips, an action which usually 
 expressed a hidden desire to be considered 
 uncommonly impressive, he said — 
 
 *' Mind, Alingdale, whatever you say •to 
 the contrary, I will never believe this to be 
 your own work." 
 
 ** Who should help me ? " asked the other, 
 with a good-humoured laugh. 
 
 " The same gentleman at whose head Dr. 
 Martin Luther threw an inkstand," returned 
 the Colonel. " So you see, I cannot give you 
 with justice the full amount of censure you 
 would deserve had you written this entirely 
 yourself." 
 
 But to return where I left off. At last a 
 plan was hit upon. It was arranged that 
 my lord should apprise my mistress of the
 
 108 STEYNEVILLE; 
 
 danger in which she stood, and if she would 
 not credit his assertions regarding the base- 
 ness of the man she had chosen for a lover, 
 he would endeavour to take hold of the up- 
 start in the act of filching the papers, and 
 bring him before her, covered with guilty 
 confusion. It was further agreed that my 
 lord should, from the recess where I had 
 hidden, watch the meeting of the two that 
 night. 
 
 It was about two o'clock in the morning, 
 and the inhabitants of Norton Castle were in 
 their respective rooms, and judging by the 
 all-pervading peace and silence, they were 
 also asleep. It was an intolerably warm 
 July ; the heat being so excessive that I 
 could not sleep, but lay on my bed tossing 
 restlessly from side to side. I had not even 
 undressed, but had thrown myself down as I 
 was, '*in utter weariness of mind, and in 
 total forgetfulness." At last, unable to bear 
 any longer the combined torture of sleepless- 
 ness and trouble, I rose, opened the window 
 and looked out on the scene which lay, in all
 
 OR, FATED FORTUNES. 109 
 
 its tranquil and solemn beauty, before my 
 eyes. 
 
 How still, how very still it was! The 
 giant trees, motionless and undisturbed, 
 threw ghost-like shadows on the green 
 sward, and not a breath of wind stirred 
 their thick foliage. Not a sound. Not even 
 the tiniest hum of an insect voice, not the 
 chirp of a bird, not the flutter of a leaf dis- 
 turbed that absolute hush. The broad lake, 
 with its surface unruffled and placid as a 
 mirror, stretched beneath ; the waning moon's 
 dimmed silver was now bright, now dark-=— 
 occasioned by the light clouds which ever 
 and anon obscured the heavenly light like a 
 fair woman's face hidden by a veil. 
 
 In the distance, beyond, and above the 
 boundaries of the park which surrounded the 
 castle, could already be discerned the first 
 faint streaks of approaching day. Day : 
 when the slumbering earth should again be 
 wakened to another period of pleasure, 
 indifference, or grief. Day : when some 
 would rise from a sleep or vigil of woe and 
 pain, and regret that they yet lived to see 
 the light of morning again. Day: when
 
 110 STEYNEVILLE; 
 
 others would rise from a refreshing rest, 
 and thank with fervent souls and voices 
 Him who had granted them yet more time 
 in which to love and admire His mighty 
 creations. 
 
 I felt lonely and downcast before, but now, 
 as I looked up and marked in the stars and 
 clouds the sublimity and grandeur of His 
 work, my heart felt elevated; and I know not 
 why, but a feeling of gratitude was upper- 
 most in my heart, and I felt better for it — 
 like the dreamy boy that I was. Then a 
 thrill came over me, a thrill of pity for my- 
 self, as I reflected what a puny and weak 
 creature I was compared to greater works. 
 Who was I to feel conscious of exaltation 
 in viewing the majestic and gigantic pro- 
 ductions of God and Nature? Nobody, 
 nothing, and my heart again sank within 
 me, and I wept bitter tears. 
 
 And so I mourned silently, and would 
 not be comforted, after the manner of the 
 Israelitish woman. 
 
 Presently, as my tears abated, I heard a 
 sound as of someone treading stealthily on the 
 gravel walk beneath. Drying the last water-
 
 OR, FATED FORTUNES. Ill 
 
 -drop from my right eyelid, I peeped cau- 
 tiously out of the window to ascertain the 
 truth. Yes, by the light of the moon, and 
 to my great astonishment, I saw a man 
 pace impatiently up and down, as if awaiting 
 somebody's arrival. Who could it be pro- 
 menading about the grounds at that ungodly 
 hour ? Not a gallant waiting for his lady- 
 love, surely? No. If I could but see his 
 face ! But it was hidden from view by an 
 enormous hat, and his form was shrouded in 
 the folds of a large cloak. 
 
 Before my mind had time to conjecture 
 anything more feasible than a robbery being 
 meditated, in legal language, by some person 
 or persons unknown, the mysterious figure 
 said, under bis breath — 
 
 *' Sapristi I comme Us sont tard ! *' 
 
 M. de la Motte ! Without a doubt. If my 
 window had not been so near to the ground 
 I would not have heard him, but, fortu- 
 nately, it happened that I was only about 
 fifteen feet from the gravel walk, so that 
 in case of necessity I could take a bold leap. 
 
 Presently, ere my astonishment had sub- 
 sided in some degree, I saw five men advance
 
 112 STETNEVILLE; 
 
 cautiously towards him, upon which thej all 
 turned, and disappeared behind a summer- 
 house that stood a little distance beyond the 
 lake. 
 
 What did they want ? what should I do ? 
 Situated thus, and well knowing that it was 
 for no good purpose that this spy and these 
 men assembled together, I think others would 
 have done what I did, viz., throw fear aside, 
 and without another thought as to the con- 
 sequences, spring from the window and 
 follow them. 
 
 And so I leaped, falling on the gravel 
 rather more heavily than I cared. For my 
 poor knees and hands were dreadfully cut 
 by the rough stones, and bled profusely. 
 But in my wild excitement at the time I 
 heeded nothing but to gain the object I had 
 in view — to hear if I could for what end the 
 spy and his men had assembled. Rising from 
 the ground, and careless of the sharp pain 
 which the fall had occasioned, I stealthily 
 trod over the green, taking heed to keep 
 well in the shadows of the friendly trees, 
 until I reached a spot, dangerously near> 
 where I heard as follows :—
 
 OR, FATED FORTUNES. 113 
 
 De la Motte (who, surrounded by the five 
 men, all standing) was speaking in his broken 
 English. " I tell you, Mon Capitaine, that all 
 are asleep in the castle, and that there is no 
 cause to fear someone overhears ; no, my 
 faith, none." 
 
 The one addressed as Capitaine — '' Well, 
 well, have you the proofs of Lady Norton's 
 treasonous adherence to the Pretender's 
 cause ? " 
 
 De la Motte—'' Ma foi ! You go too 
 quick; not yet, but T will tell you; to-morrovj 
 she will show to me the papers signed by the 
 malcontents — to-morrow evening, in that 
 apartment which is so near to the entrance 
 door." 
 
 The " Capitaine," impatiently — *' The en- 
 trance door be hanged I Be good enough to 
 stick to facts, and tell us plainly — " 
 
 De la Motte (contemptuously) — " Plainly, 
 bon Dieu ! Listen, I have gained my lady's 
 love, and trust — " 
 
 The " Capitaine " — " Like the villain you 
 are ; by Jove, couldn't you have obtained the 
 documents without? Pah, you disgust me ! " 
 and he spat upon the ground. 
 
 VOL. I. I
 
 114 STEYNEVILLE ; 
 
 De la Motte (suavely) — " Pardon me. In 
 love and war all is fair; but I will give you 
 no sermons, but advice. To-morrow evening 
 at eigbt o'clock I have a rendezvous with 
 the fair Englishwoman in tbe library. • I will 
 take care to have the window open, as it is 
 warm, very warm weather, is it not ? Very 
 well- We begin to speak first of love and then 
 politics, and she takes down the iron box to 
 show me the papers. Then I go near the 
 window and fan myself with my handker- 
 chief and say, ' Eureka, how hot it is I ' Then 
 you enter the apartment, and in the name of 
 the Gracious Queen whom I am so pleased to 
 serve, arrest the beautiful Jacobite and take 
 her and her documents away." 
 
 The " Capitaine "— " Be it so. But of all 
 the scoundrelly spies I have ever had to do 
 with, take it as a compliment or not, you are 
 the worst. I only wish it had not fallen to 
 my lot to have anything to do with you." 
 
 De la Motte (sardonically) — " Ah, the poor 
 lamb ! the poor Capitaine, he who blenches 
 not before the steel of the enemy, nor his 
 fire, shrinks in his duty to his Queen." 
 
 The Captain — " If any but you had said
 
 OB, FATED FORTUNES. 115 
 
 that, his carcase would stretch its length on 
 the earth ; but you, a spy ! My sword which 
 has been stained by the blood of so many 
 noble men would be dishonoured in making: 
 the bole in your vile body that should let 
 daylight enter ! But that's enough. I under- 
 stand that you are to see the proofs to- 
 morrow evening at eight o'clock ; I, and 
 Adamson here, alone shall attend. We will 
 wait outside till we hear the signal, 'Eureka' 
 when we will enter and take possession of 
 the documents and the lady. That is all,. I 
 think." 
 
 De la Motte (mocking) — " Your powers, 
 my Capitaine, of thinking are really too won- 
 derful, for, unlike the thoughts of common, 
 vulgar minds, they are quite right m every 
 respect." 
 
 The Captain — " There is nothing more 
 that detains us, then ? " 
 
 De la Motte — "Absolutely nothing, un- 
 less—" 
 
 The Captain—'' Unless what ?" 
 
 De la Motte — "Unless your English and 
 sublimely poetic sensibilities wish to meet 
 with a congenial spirit which could assist you
 
 116 STEYNEVILLE; 
 
 in admiring the wonders of Nature on such 
 a night or morning as this. Look up, mj 
 friend, look into those mighty heavens, where 
 the moon and stars are rapidly fading — 
 giving way to the greater power of day. Is 
 not that a sight which touches your soul 
 more than the sorrows of a weak human 
 thing? Look down, my friend, upon the 
 marvellous beauties which surround you all 
 wrapped in slumbering silence. Yes, sleep's 
 death-like silence ! Within this little spot 
 where we now stand the world is contained, 
 the World — Life and Death. We are the 
 living; yonder castle with its sleeping inmates 
 the dead. Does not your Shakespeare, 
 your divine Shakespeare, say that sleep is 
 Death's counterfeit? But I speak like a 
 fool, 1 forget myself entirely. In these 
 sceptical days we have lost the admiration 
 for Nature that our ancestors possessed ! 
 We have,'* he added, in concluding his speech, 
 " degenerated certainly." 
 
 Strange that this man, scoundrel as he 
 was, was really an enthusiastic admirer of 
 the beauties of Nature. 
 
 The Captain looked at the spy wonder-
 
 OR, FATED FORTUNES, 117 
 
 ingly. His apparent sincerity on this one 
 point amazed him not a little, and he re- 
 peated almost mechanically, as if in echo to 
 •his last words, " We have degenerated cer- 
 itainly." 
 
 " And will still more," returned de la 
 Motte. " But that is neither here nor there. 
 What was I about to say ? Ah, yes, I remem- 
 ber now. There is nothing more to detain us ? 
 No? Very good. Adieu, au revoir ; sweet 
 dreams, gentlemen," and he raised his hat 
 and bowed in a courtly manner to the Captain 
 and his men, who neither returned the salute 
 nor answered, but went away as mysteriously 
 as they came. 
 
 I crouched down as the spy passed very 
 <;lose to me, but I feared nothing. In my 
 excited state I would have dared the man, 
 but on calmer reflection I knew I could not 
 serve my lady thus. 
 
 " Those English dogs," he muttered to 
 himself, between his clenched teeth, '* have 
 no manners, no politeness of any kind. The 
 brutes, the uncultivated beasts, how gladly 
 I would kill them — all." 
 
 I waited breathlessly for about tea minutes
 
 118 STEYNEVILLE. 
 
 in my uncomfortable position, and then 
 looked around to ascertain if he were gone. 
 He had — a mercy for which I thanked Heaven, 
 for I was weak and exhausted, occasioned by 
 the loss of blood proceeding from the injuries 
 I had sustained in leaping from the window. 
 I rose cautiously, and knowing a ladder to 
 be in the summer-house, fetched it out and 
 ascended with its help into my room again. 
 This was extremely fortunate, or else mj 
 nocturnal, or rather diurnal adventure, might 
 have ended far more disagreeably and un- 
 pleasantly than it did. I mean I would have 
 had ample time (supposing, of course, I had 
 not found the ladder) and leisure on the hard 
 ground to reflect on the folly of taking a step 
 which could not be retraced.
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 The time was eight o'clock p.m. ; the scene, 
 the library of Norton Castle ; the dramatis 
 personse discovered : My Lady and de* la 
 Motte ; the dramatis personse undiscovered^ 
 Lord Alingdale and myself. We were both 
 hidden in the recess, waiting for that which 
 was impending. I had informed him of the 
 event which had taken place on the previous 
 morning in the park, and he had taken pre- 
 cautions to avoid the catastrophe which 
 threatened his kinswoman by an ingenious 
 stratagem. My lady had contemptuously 
 expressed her disbelief of de la Motte's 
 treachery, when told of it by my lord, and 
 declared the whole to be a scandalous fabri- 
 cation. *' Love is blind " verily. My lord
 
 120 STEYNEVILLE; 
 
 had avoided to acquaint her of my discovery 
 of the preceding morning, to punish my lady 
 for her obstinacy in discrediting the first 
 warning he gave her of her lover's treason. 
 
 My mistress was seated in an arm-chair. 
 The spy by her side held her hand, breathing 
 vows of constancy and love. I, in the recess, 
 was trembling with disgust and rage at the 
 shameful falsehoods uttered by the renegade ; 
 my lord, on the contrary, cool and impertur- 
 bable, listened to their conversation and de 
 la Motto's vows with a calmness that seemed 
 to me perfectly marvellous. I had not yet 
 learned that tranquillity which is in every 
 respect so essential to the one who is com- 
 pelled by force of circumstances to enact 
 a trying part. 
 
 It is remarkable what minute things 
 obtrude themselves on one's notice during 
 critical moments ? The ticking of a clock, 
 the buzzing of a fly, the arrangement of 
 a curtain, a pin on the floor, all impress 
 themselves on the mind as if their very 
 diminutiveness of sound and appearance 
 assist in some measure to increase the 
 influence wrought on the mind by the
 
 OR, FATED FORTUNES. 121 
 
 object of our chief consideration. And 
 so, apart from the objects which absorbed 
 my powers of pity and indignation, I could 
 not help remarking, wonderingly, too, the 
 face of my mistress. It was so changed, 
 and yet I could not tell what it was that 
 had so altered that countenance, usually bold 
 and self-possessed. Her expression was 
 almost soft, and as she sate looking at the 
 other with eyes that betokened nothing 
 but intense love, I felt doubly incensed 
 at the heartless wretch who occasioned it, 
 and was for springing out of my hiding 
 place immediately, only that my lord, read- 
 ing my designs, by my working face, frus- 
 trated them by holding me back. 
 
 " Tenez, ma belle," cried M. de la Motte, 
 after a while, '' did you not promise to 
 show me the signed papers to-night ? 
 Though, I must confess," he added, laugh- 
 ingly, " I am half ashamed — " 
 
 ''Of what?" 
 
 " Of my curiosity ; you must not think, 
 although I ask you this favour, that I 
 make love like your cold Englishmen. J^o, 
 no."
 
 122 STEYNEVILLE; 
 
 " Indeed," returned mjlady, with a smile, 
 •' I thought there was but one fashion of 
 making love ? " 
 
 " You," said the spy, " who are never 
 wrong in your surmises about men and 
 things," with an irony that my lady did not 
 detect, " err this time. Every country has 
 its different style of making what fools and 
 the wise alike term ' Love.' The English- 
 man goes about it as if in sheer weariness, 
 and as if he had nothing better to do. For 
 example, two people meet, and time hanging 
 heavily on their hands, the gallant says co 
 himself, ' Ah, voila, a lady ; I have nothing 
 to occupy my thoughts ; I will make love.' 
 The lady, on her part, is agreeable, and the 
 two think they have a passion for each other. 
 'Tis nothing of the kind. It is simply because 
 they both are ennuyes. In Germany a man- 
 marries because he finds a wife much more 
 economical than a hired cook, and darner of 
 old socks. In Spain lovers areas one person; 
 marriage makes them entire strangers. In 
 Italy the women have such a vast amount of 
 love in their compositions that one husband 
 or lover doth not content them. No ; they
 
 OR, FATED FORTUNES. 123 
 
 must have two ; but in France, sweet 
 France — " 
 
 He paused. 
 
 " Thej love well and truly ? " hazarded my 
 mistress earnestly, with glistening, eager 
 eyes. 
 
 " Yes, undoubtedly," said the spy abruptly, 
 rising from his chair ; " but now, ma raie," 
 he added, lightly kissing her hand, " I wish 
 to test your trust in me. You know — " 
 pointing to the iron strong box which was 
 supposed to contain the treasonous docu- 
 ments. 
 
 *' Ah ! yes, yes," returned my lady. '' Do you 
 know, Camille," placing one of her hands on 
 his shoulder, and looking trustfully into his 
 dark, handsome face, "I had forgotten all 
 about them. Fancy, Olympia Norton for- 
 getting ^^' laughingly. " Such a thing was never 
 heard of; but you — ^you are to blame, since 
 you occupy my thoughts and heart. My 
 heart,^^ she continued, now laying her fair 
 head on the spy's shoulder, and speaking 
 with ineffable tenderness — " it is not even 
 mine, for it is all, all yours — " 
 
 " Yes, yes, I hope — I know," said the
 
 124 STE YNE VILLE ; 
 
 traitor, uneasily, "but come, dear heart, if 
 you trust me, show it by deeds — deeds ! " 
 — he emphasised the word—" not words." 
 
 My lady, with perfect faith in the man by 
 her side, and, assisted by him, ultimately 
 succeeded in placing the iron box on the 
 table. Covered with dust as it was, it 
 seemed as if it had not been touched for 
 a considerable time, and when it was opened 
 the yellow papers lay undisturbed in a large 
 scroll. The spy trembled visibly. My lady , 
 noticing his agitation, asked him the cause. 
 He, in reply, took out his handkerchief and 
 commenced fanning himself. 
 
 "Open the window," said my lady, anxiously. 
 "Shall I ring?" 
 
 " No, no," answered the spy, hastily. " I 
 entreat, as you love me, do not. Are these 
 the papers ? " he asked, pointing to them. 
 
 " Yes," replied my lady, hesitatingly. 
 
 " Are you certain?" said the spy, regain- 
 ing his composure as he saw the alarmed 
 look of his mistress. He was satisfied on 
 one point, viz., that her anxiety only sprang 
 from regard for him. Nob from doubt — no, 
 Bot from doubt.
 
 OR, FATED FORTUNES. 125 
 
 But my lady's fears for his health were 
 not so easily quieted. She opened the window, 
 and taking the documents from the box, 
 refused to allow him to see them until he 
 was quite recovered. 
 
 His nerves were unstrung; he was quite, 
 quite pale, she said ; her Camille must not, 
 should not exert himself. 
 
 He went to the window, damping his fore- 
 head with his kerchief. She had placed the 
 scroll of papers on the table, meanwhile 
 examining her lover with the penetrating 
 eyes of devotion, in painful suspense. • 
 
 "Eureka!" exclaimed he, leaning out of 
 window, " how hot it is ! " 
 
 This was the given signal; almost imme- 
 diately after the man — the Captain I had 
 seen the preceding morning in company 
 with another, probably the one he called 
 Adarason, entered the room, closing the door 
 carefully behind them. 
 
 My mistress started, and looked from one 
 to the other in speechless amazement. At 
 last she articulated haughtily — 
 
 " Who are you ? What do you want 
 here ? "
 
 126 STEYNEVILLE; 
 
 ''My lady," replied the Captain civilly, 
 ^' I am in possession of a warrant for your 
 arrest." 
 
 "My arrest!" she cried, breathlessly, 
 placing both hands upon her heart. " What 
 do you mean ? " 
 
 " I mean, madam, you are suspected of 
 holding treasonous communications with the 
 other side of the Channel ; also for harbour- 
 ing documents against the peace and welfare 
 of our gracious sovereign and liege Queen 
 Anne. I arrest you in her name. Here are 
 papers," he added, taking them from the 
 table, " and T regret to say it is my duty to 
 remove you instantly." 
 
 " Good God ! " she exclaimed to herself, as 
 if struck by a terrible thought, passing her 
 hand over her forehead hurriedly. '' Can it 
 be true, gentlemen? " she said, aloud. " For 
 pity's sake, for mercy's sake — " 
 
 " Madam," replied the Captain, bowing, 
 ** appeal to our hearts is vain ; we dare not 
 listen to any overtures, even if we would." 
 
 *' Overtures ! I ! " cried my lady, disdain- 
 fully, drawing herself up to her full height ; 
 *'you mistake me, gentlemen. No, I ask no
 
 OR, FATED FORTUNES, 127 
 
 mercy — one dies but once — and if in a good 
 cause, why it is sweet to die ; but," slie 
 added, with growing alarm, her cynical, 
 contemptuous manner forsaking her, " why 
 do you not speak, Camille ? Why do you 
 leave me to deal with these men alone and 
 unaided ? " 
 
 But the form she addressed stood silent 
 and immovable in its place by the window. 
 
 "At least move, hold me out your hand," 
 she said, beseechingly. " Do you not hear, 
 Camille, Camille, my love ? '' And she 
 stretched out her arms expectingly. 
 
 But still the figure in the corner moved 
 not and remained silent. 
 
 " Gentlemen ! " she cried, turning to the 
 two men, dazed and faltering, " tell me, for 
 the love of Heaven, who my accuser is — but, 
 be careful, I pray you implicate no innocent 
 man, for I could not bear it. Oh, my God, 
 pity, pity ! " she prayed brokenly. 
 
 "Madam," returned the Captain, pityingly, 
 *' why do you wish to know now ? " 
 
 " Is it not better that I should know 
 now ? " returned my lady, with forced calm- 
 ness. " I can bear it. The Nortons," she
 
 128 STEY NEVILLE; 
 
 added, as if musing on the weakness she had 
 exhibited, '' were not wont to be afraid. No, 
 nor shall one of them play the poltroon now. 
 Sir, I wish to know the name of my accuser," 
 she said firmly, " and then I will go with 
 you wherever you choose to lead me." 
 
 " Madam, he is there," pointing with the 
 scroll to the spy, 
 
 A shade passed over the woman's face, but 
 that was all. Her iron strength and power 
 of will bore down all the emotions caused by 
 the intelligence. Her heart might break, 
 but her face, though fearfully pallid, resumed 
 once more its lofty expression. Only the 
 hand that was hanging by her side was 
 clenched tightly, — so tightly that the nails 
 were driven into the soft flesh, causing the 
 blood to flow. 
 
 A pause succeeded. Lady Norton had 
 not glanced again at the traitor who still 
 stood motionless in his place by the window. 
 The two soldiers, astonished at the unex- 
 pected dignity of character exhibited by the 
 accused, looked mystified, not daring to utter 
 a sound. They had been used to tears, cries 
 for mercy, prayers, execrations and struggles.
 
 OR FATED FORTUNES. 129 
 
 Yes, they knew how to deal with those. But 
 with this noble serenity how could they 
 act? The two soldiers' hearts respected and 
 honoured the courage displayed by this deli- 
 cately nurtured woman. Only the brave know 
 how to value the brave. 
 
 " Gentlemen," said my lady, in her accus- 
 tomed tones, " it is late, but all I ask of you 
 is a delay of one half -hour longer." 
 
 ''Your time, madam, shall be ours," re- 
 plied the Captain, bowing. 
 
 " Thank you," she said, bending her head. 
 " I must inform my kinsman of this event, 
 which," she added bitterly, '' he for warned 
 me of — blind fool that I was. I have guests 
 under this roof who need not be incommoded 
 in any way by my arrest, so I wish that it 
 should take place quietly — that we leave 
 here without the knowledge of anyone save 
 my Lord Alingdale. I shall ring — " 
 
 " No need to ring ! " cried my lord, step- 
 ping from his hiding place, and taking his 
 kinswoman's hand. " Now, gentlemen," 
 eyeing them from head to foot, " might I 
 ask your business? But hold, I know it. 
 
 VOL. I. K
 
 130 STEYNEVILLE; 
 
 You dare not arrest this lady on mere sus- 
 picion ! '' 
 
 M.J lady recoiled. 
 
 "Suspicion, my lord, certainly not," re- 
 turned the Captain, " but we have proofs 
 here, tangible evidence," showing the scroll. 
 
 *' Indeed," said my lord, suavely, " have 
 you looked over this ^ tangible evidence ' ? 
 For my part, I think they look more like 
 useless family papers. I may be mistaken ; 
 I can't vouch for my infallibility. But, still, 
 it would be satisfactory to know for a dead 
 certainty. What say you, gentlemen ? Take 
 your own time; unfold them. Your time 
 shall be ours, by all means." 
 
 Taking his kinswoman aside, he com- 
 menced a whispering conversation with her 
 that changed the whole aspect of affairs. I 
 saw her start ; it was but natural, certainly, 
 for he told her that, being forwarned of that 
 which threatened, " he had taken the original 
 papers from their place into his possession, and 
 substituted in their stead some worthless docu- 
 ments,^* 
 
 The Captain and man, already in doubt, 
 unrolled the scroll. They were, as my lord
 
 ORy FATED FORTUNES. 131 
 
 had said, family papers, grants for tlie pos- 
 session of lands and houses, mortgages belong- 
 ing to the dead and gone Norfcons, deeds, &c. 
 In short, nothing but a collection of worthless 
 old sheets, of no use to anybody, were found. 
 The soldiers, with many apologies and ex- 
 pressions of sincere regret for their intrusion, 
 moved towards the door, about to bow them- 
 selves out. My lord recalled theui. 
 
 " Stay ! " he cried. " I charge you officers 
 to take under arrest the man de la Motte." 
 
 The men turned hastily to the corner 
 where de la Motte had stood. Had stdbd, 
 indeed, for seeing the change of affairs, and 
 the window being open, the bird had flown ; in 
 other words, he had slipped through their 
 fingers in time for his own safety, and was, 
 doubtless, by this time, at a good distance 
 off. 
 
 Nothing was to be done but pursuit. 
 Promising to do all that lay in their power 
 for the renegade's speedy capture, the 
 officers left with a perfect belief that de la 
 Motte hadjpurposely deceived them. 
 
 Scarcely had the door closed, when my 
 lady, who had hitherto remained standing
 
 132 STEYNEVILLE; 
 
 like a lifeless statue, went straight to her 
 kinsman, and taking his hand, half covered 
 by the ruffles, imprinted a kiss on it. Far 
 more eloquent in gratitude, I believe, than 
 the finest piece of oratory would have been. 
 
 " Cousin," said my lord gravely, " you 
 have escaped a great danger, but though you 
 thank me as your saviour, I am not he." 
 
 "Not you? Who then?" she asked 
 eagerly. "Not, not Harold, surely?" for 
 my lord was pointing to me, standing a 
 little distance from the two, downcast and 
 sad, with my arm in a sling, for I had sus- 
 tained such severe injuries after the leap of 
 the preceding night, that I was compelled 
 to have my arm bandaged. 
 
 " Yes," answered her kinsman, ** Harold, 
 the one against whom that scoundrelly spy 
 had been speaking. You believed all those 
 vile tales against this poor, brave lad. Ah, 
 cousin, you did very wrong — but it can be 
 repaired — and so I leave you. Be the just 
 and generous woman I think you, for I swear 
 you have been most cruel to the boy for the 
 last two months, treating him almost like a 
 servant, by George ! " Commencing mildly.
 
 OR, FATED FORTUNES, 133 
 
 and finishing with most unusual wrath, my 
 lord flung out of the room. 
 
 I felt very uneasy. There was an oppres- 
 sive silence which at that moment I would 
 have given worlds to have had broken by 
 someone's entrance, say. Colonel Death or 
 the Abb6. Such an uncomfortable still ! 
 The very regular ticking of the clock seemed 
 but a mockery. 
 
 At last my lady spoke. She had seated 
 herself; her arm leaned on the table, and 
 her hand covered the uppermost part of her 
 face. She appeared to be in deep thought, 
 so deep, indeed, that when she had bidden 
 me to approach, she seemed to be unaware 
 that I had obeyed her, and was awaiting her 
 commands for at least ten minutes. 
 
 Suddenly she glanced up, very pale, but 
 as composed as if nothing unusual had 
 occurred. 
 
 " What have you done to your arm ?" she 
 asked, gently. 
 
 I blushed to the roots of my hair as I 
 replied — 
 
 " I hurt it by leaping.*' 
 
 *' Leaping ? Where ? "
 
 134 STEYNEVILLE; 
 
 " Out of window," I returned, reluctantly. 
 
 And so she questioned me until I was 
 forced to blurt out the whole truth of mj 
 adventure and discovery. 
 
 A beautiful ring was sparkling on her 
 third finger; this she took off and gave to 
 me. I murmured something about my not 
 having done anything to deserve such a 
 present, for, indeed, I thought I had not. 
 
 "I have wronged you, Harold, I know," 
 she said, not noticing my embarrassment; 
 " wronged you, by thinking ill of you. But 
 if I can do anything to repair it, believe me, 
 I will. Thanks are but poor reward, I know, 
 for such a service as you have rendered me." 
 
 *' Enough, dear mistress, enough for me," 
 I cried. How gladly I would have spared 
 that proud woman her self-chastisement ! 
 
 " No, not enough for me," she continued^ 
 sorrowfully. " I know that, whatever I do, 
 I could not repay in full measure all that 
 I am indebted to you." 
 
 *' Indeed, madam, you could," I inter- 
 rupted, " by saying nothing more of it." 
 
 "Henceforward, no more as my page,^ 
 but as an honoured guest and dear friend.
 
 OR, FATED FORTUNES. 135 
 
 you shall stay with me till your father thinks 
 it time for jou to leave." 
 
 " Dear mistress," I said, taking her hand 
 and kissing' it gratefully, " I ask but one 
 favour." 
 
 " Name it." 
 
 ** That you will permit me to continue my 
 duties as heretofore." 
 
 " Do you ask no more ? " she asked, almost 
 incredulously, taking my hands in hers almost 
 affectionately, and looking at me penetrat- 
 ingly. 
 
 "No, indeed not, madam," I answered, my 
 gaze meeting hers unflinchingly, for I spoke 
 the honest truth, and of which none need 
 ever be ashamed. '' I ask, and at present 
 certainly wish, nothing more, except, ex- 
 cept — " I added, hesitatingly. 
 
 " You are not afraid of me, Harold, are 
 you ? " asked my poor mistress, with a 
 mournful smile. 
 
 " No, madam. I only wish " — my anger 
 and pity getting the upper hand — ''that 
 they will catch that villain de la Motte." 
 
 At the mention of that name my lady 
 quickly released my hands, and uttering a
 
 136 STEYNEVILLE. 
 
 low cry of anguisli, covered her face with 
 them. 
 
 What had I done ? What had I done ? I 
 questioned myself. My heart was so full of 
 remorse and sorrow that I knelt down, com- 
 pletely forgetting, and blubbering like a 
 child, besought her to calm herself. 
 
 In after years, I remembered what she 
 said to me that night ere she retired — " Might 
 I never know what it was to have love for a 
 creature unworthy of it." Yes, " Might I 
 never know what it was to have love for a 
 creature unworthy of it." The words rang 
 in my ears for a long time after they were 
 said. When the experience was mine I had 
 almost forgotten them.
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 One morning, as I was giving the finishing 
 touch to my hair — from a child it always 
 took a long time to comb out thoroughly, 
 because it was so uncommonly thick and 
 curly — there came a rap at the door. Now, 
 there was nothing unusual in this, and entree 
 nous, already arrived at the mature age of 
 sixteen, I had serious thoughts of cultivating 
 that universally-supposed embellisher of the 
 countenance masculine — a moustache. Emu- 
 lated by a noble ambition to possess one, 
 I had already commenced to shave. To all 
 ideas, then, the rap proceeded from Hilbert's 
 knuckles, bringing the water wherewith my 
 youthful ardour might vent itself — to find 
 scope as it were — in plainer terms, to shave.
 
 138 STEYNEVILLE; 
 
 I was in high spirits. My mistress, true to 
 her word, ever since that memorable night, 
 three years ago, had been as a dear friend 
 and protector to me ; besides which the 
 charming French lady, who had sat by my 
 side at dinner on the first night of my 
 arrival at the castle, seemed to have taken 
 kindly to me, malgre my sixteen and her 
 twenty-five years. And lastly, and not least, 
 I had but two days ago been on a visit to my 
 father, and had seen him and my little kins- 
 women in perfect happiness and tolerable 
 health. He had arranged that I should return 
 to Steyneville for good after a little longer 
 stay with my lady, who did not feel disposed 
 to part so easily with her favourite. Yes, how- 
 ever unworthy, I had gained her esteem and 
 affection, and it certainly was reciprocated. 
 But to return to the rap. At the time I did 
 what any other mortal would have done 
 under the circumstances — I said " Come in." 
 
 Hilbert popped his face in. Strangely 
 solemn it looked, I remarked, even though 
 at the time I felt disposed to see everything 
 couleur de rose. 
 
 " Oh, Master Steyneville, pray make haste.
 
 OR, FATED FORTUNES. 189- 
 
 Someone has come from the Hall, Birch I 
 think he said his name was, and that he had 
 something particular — something very press- 
 ing to tell you." 
 
 " I will be down in one minute," said I, 
 alarmed and wondering. I did not know what 
 to make of it. 
 
 When I came down I found Birch, our old 
 servant, waiting for me. 
 
 " What's the matter. For Heaven's sake 
 tell me," I cried, dismayed by the old man's 
 look. 
 
 " Be quick, Master Harold," he returned 
 laconically, " and get on your things." 
 
 " My things ! " I exclaimed ; " what things ? 
 Do you mean my hat and coat ? " 
 
 He nodded, his face working fearfully. 
 
 Though well accustomed to his spartanio 
 brevity of speech, I was far from content. I 
 intimated that I required to know what the 
 matter was, and the cause of his coming, ere 
 I arrayed myself to follow him. 
 
 " Your father," he replied, briefly. 
 
 My fears were now thoroughly aroused. I 
 besought him to tell me if he were ill — if he 
 were — I could not bring myself to say tha
 
 140 STEYNEVILLE; 
 
 word, but stayed stock-still speechless, with 
 mj hand on the lappel of his sleeve. 
 
 " My master, the blessed master," he 
 fairly sobbed out, all his laconism entirely 
 forsaking him, " is dying, dying — and if you 
 don't make haste, Master Harold, ye'll never 
 see him alive in this world again." 
 
 He was lying on the bed when I entered 
 the room, asleep I thought. It was night, 
 and very dark without. Ever and anon the 
 gusts of a cold wind blew mournfully around 
 the house, but his apartment was warm, the 
 lamp burned bright and cheerfully. I stooped 
 over the bedside to look at him. He was not 
 much changed ; disease could not steal 
 that gentle, melancholy expression away. He 
 suffered from no curable illness, I knew. 
 The doctors said he endured some internal 
 malady, a wasting which was wholly im- 
 possible for human hands or faculties to 
 stay. They gave no special name to it; it 
 was simply a wasting of long duration, apt 
 to bring the sufferer to a sudden end. 
 
 What where my sentiments as I looked
 
 OR, FATED FORTUNES. 141 
 
 at that dear form so prostrated, possibly 
 sleeping his last sleep on earth, ere awaken- 
 ing to another, a grander life? I had been 
 so blithe and joyous that very morning, and 
 now — and now — I felt I could not allow him 
 to leave me — a mighty weight was on my 
 breast. I tried to utter his name, but the 
 word would not come. I sunk on my knees 
 with a despairing groan. 
 
 He started. " Harold," he cried, in his 
 tender voice, perceiving me on the ground 
 with my face hid in my hands. " My boy, 
 hast thou — come, at last ? — come to see me 
 
 agam 
 
 P" 
 
 I staggered to my feet. Seizing his hand, 
 I covered it with passionate kisses. 
 
 " Nay, nay, my father," I cried, '' pray, 
 pray do not leave me. Oh God, take me, 
 take me in his stead ! " 
 
 " Hush, hush, dear ; this is blasphemy. 
 Thou knowest the Lord giveth, the Lord 
 taketh away — finish it, Harold." 
 
 *' Blessed be the name — no, no, I cannot," 
 I answered, madly. 
 
 He held up his hand reverently, and re- 
 peated the whole text, after which he had me
 
 142 STE TNE VILLE ; 
 
 sit by his side, which I did humbly and con- 
 tritely, clasping his hand in miae. 
 
 " Now," he said, his breath coming short 
 and thick, " my only, my dearly loved son 
 — I wish particularly — -that thou shouldst be 
 a guardian and protector to thy poor orphan 
 cousins. Eemember — " he paused. 
 
 My head was bowed, and I could answer 
 nothing. 
 
 " I give them both in thy charge ; be kind 
 and tender to them," he continued, rather 
 more feebly. '' Tell me thou wilt." 
 
 I heard him, and my voice answered 
 strangely to my own ears — 
 
 '' I will." 
 
 " They are provided ; yes, I trust thee. But 
 thou thyself, my poor, poor friendless boy, 
 what will become of thee ? Is there not one 
 to whom I may entrust thee ? " 
 
 He was agitated and looked restlessly 
 about him. 
 
 " Father," I cried, brokenly, " T need no 
 one. I—" 
 
 " Thou art so young to be left quite alone 
 in this cold world. God, in Thy great mercy," 
 he prayed, " send this orphan a friend ! "
 
 OR, FATED FORTUNES. 143 
 
 The prayer was heard, for the door softly 
 •opened, and on the threshold stood Lord 
 Alingdale ! 
 
 * * * * -;ie 
 
 The lamp was burning dimly now ; a 
 strange, holy calm pervaded the room of 
 the dying. Even my rebellious heart was 
 softened, and I thought of him not as pass- 
 ing from me for ever, but only for a time, 
 and only from my sight. The troubled 
 waters would soon be at rest for ever, and 
 no more would the earthly storms of woe 
 and sorrow have power to disturb them. 
 
 He seemed to have fallen into a lio^ht 
 slumber, and a wonderful look was on his 
 face, an ineffable expression, as if he saw that 
 which is denied to the living, as if he saw 
 the space of light, existing beyond the 
 boundaries and confines of the earth. 
 
 He lay so still, that I already thought — 
 thought — Heaven only knows how perturbed 
 and confused my mind was then — that his life 
 was extinct, and that I was alone indeed. I 
 thought this, I say, in a kind of stupor, for I 
 stood by his side like an immovable block, 
 staring vacantly and speechless.
 
 144 STEYNEVILLE; 
 
 I was roused by a movement of Lord 
 Alingdale. He bent over the almost inani- 
 mate form of my dear, dear father, and 
 applied his ear to his breast. The dark hair 
 of the atheist touched his face, as he leaned 
 over him. 
 
 '*He lives," he whispered. 
 
 " He lives," I echoed under my breath, 
 several times, for I could not impress the 
 fact on my mind, stunned as it was. For I 
 had been so unprepared for the shock ; when 
 I had seen him last he was apparently full 
 of life and health. If I had only had an 
 inkhng of the awful blow it was fated I 
 should receive — if my dear father had but 
 mentioned his long, silent suffering to me — 
 which in his loving kindness he had not — I 
 might — I might, but no — I would have 
 broken down as I did then. 
 
 "We watched him silently. Although my 
 lord had told me he lived, I despaired of all 
 hope of ever hearing him speak again. The 
 lamp burned lower and lower ; the wind, 
 which had abated in its violence, now blew 
 round the house mournfully and sadly, as if 
 wailing a dirge for the dead. *' Dead ! " I
 
 STETNEVILLE. 145 
 
 cried, with a shudder. " 0, my father ! dead 
 so soon ! " And I sunk to my knees by the 
 bedside. But he was not. He had heard the 
 voice of his son, and he had risen, and 
 stretched his arms towards me. But ere I 
 could be folded in his embrace, he fell back 
 again, powerless, on his pillow. 
 
 " Irene — Harold — forgiveness — love ! " he 
 murmured under his breath, and with a 
 countenance lighted up as by the holy 
 radiance of no earthly vision, the noble 
 spirit passed away from the world. 
 
 And we were left in darkness with -the 
 sainted dead, for the lamp went out as the 
 last words fell from his lips. 
 
 ***** 
 
 I was alone. It was twelve o'clock. Two 
 hours after his death I remember I tried to 
 collect my thoughts, to think, but it was use- 
 less ; grief had distracted me, and in a sort 
 of frenzied sorrow I paced my room as one 
 possessed. 
 
 Presently a knock followed by the appear- 
 ance of Batty, with a face distorted, red, and 
 swollen by crying, stood before me. 
 
 " 0, Master Harold," she said, brokenly, 
 
 VOL. I. L
 
 146 STEYNEVILLE ; 
 
 " my blessed, my darling, my only young 
 master now, we — we — have looked high and 
 low fo r Miss Allie, and — and we can't find 
 her anywhere." 
 
 Scarcely knowing what I did, I sought out 
 my lord, who had generously promised my 
 poor father to be my guardian till I was 
 of age. I found him in the breakfast parlour, 
 sunk in a deep reverie. I explained myself 
 as well as I could to the effect, of course, that 
 my little kinswoman was not to be found. 
 
 " Since when has she been missing ? " 
 asked my lord. 
 
 " Ever since then^'* answered the good old 
 woman, striving hard to repress her emotion, 
 *'I forgot all about my young mistresses, 
 and when I at last got to think of them, I 
 put Miss Annie to bed — the poor little dear 
 asked me, if — if the master was better, and I 
 says, like the sinful old woman that I am, 
 'yes.' But Miss Allie stamped and cried, 
 and wouldn't go to bed till she had kissed 
 good-night, and — and — now we can't find 
 her nowhere." 
 
 My lord snatched up a candlestick. I pre- 
 pared to follow him.
 
 OR, FATED FORTUNES. 147 
 
 **No, Harold, you remain here. I had 
 better go alone," he said gently. 
 
 I understood the allusion, and remained 
 where I was. He ascended the wide old stair- 
 case, and was soon lost to view. 
 
 In about ten minutes time I heard his foot- 
 step on the last step of the stair. I ran to 
 the door to see with what success his search 
 was crowned. What a picture met my eyes ! 
 In his arms, as tenderly as a woman, he held 
 the lost child. With her beautiful golden 
 head pillowed on his shoulder, and her loag 
 fringed eyelids closed, she slept as peacefully 
 and well as in her little white bed above stairs. 
 
 He had found her clasping the cold form 
 of her dear dead protector in her warm living 
 arms, with her young fair head leaning 
 against the old grey one. 
 
 Life and death, youth and age together ! 
 0, Almyra Marlande ! 0, my fair kins- 
 woman ! would it not have been better for 
 thee to have passed away from the world 
 then — in thy innocent and young days, and 
 by the side of thy loved friend and kins- 
 man. ? But it was not to be ; thy destiny was 
 to be worked to its dark end.
 
 CHAPTER XIY. 
 
 Two weeks after the obsequies of my dear 
 father, and I had become a little more recon- 
 ciled to my lot, Batty placed a letter in my 
 hand, which ran as follows : — 
 
 "My dear Boy, 
 
 " Hearing of the sad bereavement you 
 have suffered, I hasten to offer you all the 
 consolation I can. I wish to tell you that 
 Norton Castle will be a home to you until 
 you are old enough to make one of Steyne- 
 ville yourself. This is not all. My kinsman, 
 Lord Halifax, hath told me that you have 
 two cousins, if I mistake not their names are 
 Almyra and Anita. To these, then, I offer 
 my protection and guardianship. Under- 
 stand me well. They shall come to me, 
 these poor and, but for you, friend-
 
 STEYNEVILLE. 149 
 
 less children, with a double claim to my 
 regard and affection. Firstly, because I 
 think the time has come when I may show 
 to some extent my gratitude to you, their 
 kinsman, for the great service you rendered 
 me some years ago" (she alluded to the dela 
 Motte afeir) ; " and secondly, because they are 
 alone. Do not refuse my offer, even if your 
 pride revolt against it" (my pride! forsooth) ; 
 ^' remember these poor little ones will suffer 
 by it. In your great bleak house they, like 
 flowers, would die for want of light, sun- 
 shine, and gaiety. No, now-a-days th*ere 
 must be no old castles where in durance vile 
 are incarcerated two fair princesses with 
 trusty, albeit rusty dragons to guard them ! 
 Besides, who would be the knight to set 
 them free ? Not one of our bepowdered, 
 beplushed, beruffled, and bepainted dandies 
 of to-day, surely ! 
 
 " No, Harold, no ; bring them both to me. 
 I'Abb^ Chatroniere is ready to teach them, 
 and I to love them for their own and your sake. 
 " With affectionate regards, 
 
 " Most sincerely yours, 
 
 " Oltmpia Norton."
 
 150 STEYNEVILLE; 
 
 My lord was seated not far from me as I read 
 this with Mistress Almyra on his knee, laugh- 
 ing at her shrewd, childlike questions and 
 answers. Again, as on the day when I first 
 left Steyneville for Norton Castle, a pang 
 shot through my heart, for I loved as well as a 
 boy of sixteen could this little laughing, saucy 
 maid ; and I was almost angry to see her 
 so friendly with a stranger. Annie was 
 bending over a piece of needlework, working 
 swiftly, and, as her wont, speaking but when 
 spoken to. 
 
 With mingled feelings of gratitude and 
 sorrow I read this letter. Gratitude to my 
 kind mistress for her offer, and sorrow to 
 leave the old place, with all the dear memo- 
 ries of the departed still lingering about it. 
 
 '' Any news ? " inquired my lord, looking 
 at me keenly, and stopping in his play with 
 my cousin, who pouted instantly at his lack 
 of attention. 
 
 He read the letter which I handed to him 
 with an unmoved countenance. 
 
 "Do you intend to accept my kinswoman's 
 offer ? " he asked, when he had concluded its 
 perusal.
 
 OR, FATED FORTUNES. 151 
 
 I replied in the affirmative, with many ex- 
 pressions of sincere thankfulness for my 
 mistress's goodness. Having arranged that 
 we would leave Steyneville as soon as my 
 cousins' goods and effects were packed, I 
 rose to give the necessary orders for our 
 speedy departure. Batty and Birch were to 
 reside at the Hall and take charge of it, as 
 heretofore. 
 
 '' Now," said my lord, turning to Almyra, 
 and taking her two little hands in his, 
 ** what do you think we are going to do 
 with you and your sister there ? " 
 
 " Give us some sweeties ? " asked the little 
 glutton. 
 
 " Nay, not that," smiled the amused noble- 
 man ; " we are going to take you both 
 away — " 
 
 " Away ! " echoed Allie. " Where ? " 
 
 " Away ! " echoed Annie's eyes, as she 
 raised them from her work, though she her- 
 self said nothing. 
 
 " Yes, away to a beautiful lady, who is 
 going to love you both. This beautiful lady 
 lives in a beautiful house." 
 
 "0, goody, goody," cries miss, clapping
 
 152 STEYNEVILLE; 
 
 her hands. " Are we going now — this very 
 minute? " 
 
 She had already forgotten in her bright 
 anticipations the form of her late protector 
 lying alone in the cold distant churchyard. 
 
 But Annie sunk her head, and I saw 
 
 two glistening tears fall upon her work. 
 
 She, at least, had not forgotten. No, there 
 
 were two who remembered the departed 
 
 still. 
 
 « « « « ^ 
 
 A month after the foregoing the two 
 cousins were fairly installed in their new 
 domicile. Perhaps there is no need to say 
 that Allie, the petted and caressed at home, 
 was doubly petted and caressed by the 
 people and visitors living in and visiting at 
 the Castle. Gaily dressed dandies, with their 
 finicking ways, — grave, pompous gentlemen, 
 with deep voices and sombre coats, all 
 assisted to spoil the captivating child. The 
 little puss would mimic my lady's chaplain, 
 — TAbbe Chatroniere, grown much fatter, 
 and speaking worse English than ever — to 
 his face, and absolutely refused to take any 
 lessons from him, or anyone else.
 
 OR. FATED FORTUNES, 153 
 
 When the Abbe first approached her with 
 the same book from which Annie had lately 
 acquitted herself extremely well, she asked 
 him in comical French what he wanted. 
 
 "Mademoiselle," returned the little divine 
 promptly, " will take her lesson, is it not ? 
 See," he added coaxingly, " what nice words 
 are herein inscribed, all to make you clever 
 and good." . 
 
 *' Nay, monsieur," returned the little re- 
 probate, with a curtsey, " if it takes so much 
 trouble to be clever, and good, je ne veux 
 pas etre ni Tun ni Tautre. J'aimerais mieux 
 rester mechante et bete — comme je suis." 
 
 The Abbe, simply aghast at this response, 
 hurried instantly to mj lady, and acquainted 
 her of the young lady's decision. My lady, 
 acting contrary to expectation, burst into a 
 fit of laughter, and, instead of being chided 
 for naughtiness, I am sorry to say my little 
 kinswoman was spoiled more than ever. 
 After a good deal of reflection, I came to the 
 conclusion that I was not performing my 
 father's last commands to my satisfaction. 
 He bade me be a guardian to my young 
 cousins, and I asked myself, Was I. My
 
 154 STEYNEVILLE; 
 
 conscience answered, No. So I was resolved,, 
 at all cost, that Almyra should study, and 
 not grow up wild and ignorant. Mj lady 
 had often besought of her to take her lessons 
 like her gentle, docile sister, but all to no 
 purpose. If miss were not stubborn, she 
 would burst into tears and beg to be taken 
 back to Steyneville, and that uncle would 
 never have made her do things she did not 
 wish to do, &c. ; speaking, in brief, as if she 
 were the most ill-used of mortals, the most 
 unloved, and the most lonely. Indeed, her 
 powers of persuasion and resistance were 
 so great, that, after a little time, my mis- 
 tress gave up the task of compelling her to 
 apply herself to a book as useless, and begged 
 me to see if my eloquence on the subject 
 had any effect. 
 
 One day, being alone with the little rebel, 
 I seized the opportunity to launch into the 
 project I had in view. 
 
 " Almyra," said I, gravely, " come here to 
 me." She advanced half-way, and stopped 
 with her head hanging. "Nearer," I said, 
 " nearer still ; I want to speak to you 
 seriously."
 
 OR, FATED FORTUNES. 155- 
 
 Contrary to anticipations, she came close 
 to me with her head thrown back and a look 
 expressive of supreme defiance. 
 
 " This will never do," thought I; " harsh- 
 ness, austerity will avail nothing. If I could 
 but appeal to her better nature, I think I 
 could carry into effect my plans ; " and so I 
 drew her on my knee, and commenced, I must 
 confess, a very prosy tirade on the evil of idle- 
 ness. "Now," I asked, in conclusion, '' would 
 you not like to please me — like Annie does ?" 
 
 *' Nay," returned the rebel, quite unshaken 
 in her resolve ; *' I like to please myself far 
 more." 
 
 " But this is selfish and wicked," I an- 
 swered, as severely as I could, for there was 
 no being really angry with the little witch. 
 
 "0, Allie darling," cried Annie, rising 
 from her work, " say you don't mean that. 
 Indeed she does not, cousin Hally," seeing 
 my grieved expression, put on expressly for 
 the occasion ; for, despite her naughtiness, 
 the child was perfectly charming. 
 
 '*I mean what I say," responded Allie, 
 ungraciously, with a pout of her rosy nether 
 
 lip.
 
 156 STEYNEVILLE; 
 
 " No, you do not," said the elder sister, 
 her arm stealing round the younger one's 
 neck. '' Allie, dear, if you will not please 
 our cousin and Lady Norton, think of our 
 dear uncle who is now dead. Would he 
 love Allie," she sobbed, " any more if he 
 knew she spoke like this ? 0, say you will be 
 good, darling ! " 
 
 At the mention of her uncle's name, the 
 only person the child had ever cared or tried 
 to please, she burst into a passion of tears 
 and hid her face on Annie's shoulder. 
 
 Having, as I thought, successfully appealed 
 to her better nature, I waited the result. 
 Full of expectation, the next evening I asked 
 the Abbe if he had found Almyra more 
 tractable with her lessons that day. He 
 lifted his eyes to the ceiling and replied 
 mournfully in the negative. 
 
 I was. at my wits' end, turning over in my 
 mind what plan I should adopt uexfc. I re- 
 mained awake half the night in profound 
 thought. At last. Eureka ! I had found it. 
 I would appeal to her Vanity as a last resort, 
 as all other devices had proved futile ; so, 
 taking my little kinswoman again on my
 
 OR, FATED FORTUNES. 157 
 
 knee next day, when my plans were fully 
 matured, I prepared to give her the medicine 
 hidden in a sweetmeat, as you shall hear. 
 
 She sate quite comfortably on my lap. I 
 had promised her something she loved above 
 all other things, viz., a tale. She had 
 graciously promised to award me a kiss if 
 I told it to her entire satisfaction. " But 
 it's to be a nice one ! " she stipulated deci- 
 sively. 
 
 Thus warned, I began as follows : — 
 
 " Once upon a time, long, long years ago, 
 in a beautiful kingdom by the sea, there 
 lived a great king who had two daughters.'' 
 
 " Pretty ones ? " asked the listener, with 
 enwrapped, earnest eyes. 
 
 " I will tell you that presently, but you 
 must not interrupt." 
 
 " Now, one of the two princesses," I con- 
 tinued, '' was perfectly lovely. She had 
 glorious black hair — " 
 
 ** Black," mused the little girl on my knee, 
 depreciatingly; " I always thought princesses 
 had golden hair." 
 
 " Black, ^^ I returned, with more emphasis, 
 ** quite black, and dark eyes, and a straight
 
 158 STE7NEVTLLE; 
 
 nose" (Allie instinctively felt hers), '' and an 
 exquisite figure. So beautiful, indeed, was 
 her person, that everybody fell in love with 
 her at first sight ; but it was at sight only, 
 for everybody agreed that when she spoke 
 she talked dreadful nonsense. And do you 
 know why this was ? No ? Well, because 
 when she was a little girl she refused to 
 learn anything, or, in fact, — to do anything 
 that was right." 
 
 " What was her name ? " asked Almyra, 
 eyeing me suspiciously, with her bright grey 
 eyes wide open. 
 
 " Her name, her name, was — 0, yes, I re- 
 member now, of course ; how foolish of me 
 to forget such a celebrated personage — her 
 name was Maryanna — " 
 
 " I do not like that name," remarked her 
 little ladyship, decisively, her suspicions 
 entirely evaporating. 
 
 "Nay, there is no occasion," said I. " But 
 to continue. Her sister, the Princess Lily, 
 on the contrary, was not at all good-looking, 
 and people who only saw her, and never 
 spoke to her, called her quite plaia. But 
 she was so amiable and so industrious that
 
 OR, FATED FORTUNES. 159 
 
 people who did know her called her charm- 
 ing. Besides, she was so clever that she 
 could do anything, from writing a Greek 
 play down to making a plum-pudding." 
 
 " Fie ! fie, Hally ! what a fib ! " murmured 
 Allie, reproachfully. 
 
 " Indeed," I said, striving hard to repress 
 a laugh, " she not only could, but she did. 
 Well, one day the king, their father, received 
 a message from a mighty neighbouring prince 
 to the effect that he (his royal highness) in- 
 tended to pay a visit to his gracious majesty, 
 with the ultimate end in view of espousing 
 the lovely princess Maryanna, with whose 
 portrait the prince had fallen violently in 
 love. His majesty, the papa of the royal 
 damsels, had no objection to this arrange- 
 ment, and sent back word with a herald 
 dressed in gleaming golden armour to say 
 he would be delighted to see Prince Daffodil 
 (for so the neighbouring prince was called), 
 who might come as soon as he pleased, for he, 
 on his part, was ready to receive his hand- 
 some young highness with open arms. 
 
 " Everything, then, being arranged on a 
 most stupendous scale, from the triumphal
 
 160 STEYNEVILLE; 
 
 arches upwards, the prince entered the city 
 amidst a vast amount of acclamations and 
 trumpet-blowing, effected by a delighted 
 people. But he had no ear for applause 
 just then — " 
 
 " Was he deaf, then, cousin ? " demanded 
 Allie, innocently. 
 
 "0, no," said I, ''not at all. What I 
 meant to say was, being so much in love 
 with Princess Maryanna, he didn't care a 
 f^g for anything else but to see her and 
 avow his passion." 
 
 '' Ah, yes," sighed Allie ; '' how very nice. 
 But go on, please." 
 
 " When he had greeted the king he begged to 
 be shown to the princess's boudoir. He found 
 her sewiug silk flowers on a piece of satin — 
 doing it very badly, too ; but this was ex- 
 cusable, you know, because she was a princess. 
 Her sister Lily was seated in a corner of the 
 room sewing buttons on her royal papa's 
 shirts. 
 
 " ' How beautiful thou art, sweet princess !' 
 cried the prince, falling at his ladylove's feet; 
 * and how divinely industrious ! '" 
 
 " But wasn't it rather sudden, that falling
 
 OR, FATED FORTUNES. 161 
 
 on his knees ? " remonstrated miss, her ideas 
 of propriety scandalised. 
 
 *' Not at all. Did I not tell you Prince 
 Daffodil had been loving her for a long time 
 in private ? Well, when he found her in 
 every respect, in form and feature, so ex- 
 actly like her portrait, he could no longer 
 restrain his transports, but said, ' How beau- 
 tiful thou art ! ' 
 
 " Now, the princess being as stupid as an 
 owl—" 
 
 "How do you know an owl is stupid, 
 cousin Harold?" demanded miss, authori- 
 tatively. 
 
 " People say so," I replied, hastily. 
 
 " The princess, instead of blushing and 
 turning her head aside, as she ought to have 
 done, replied calmly, ' I know I am.' " 
 
 " That is curious," remarked Allie, mus- 
 ingly. " But go on." 
 
 " Yes, that's what she said. So the prince 
 naturally stared, but thinking his ears had 
 misgiven him, he commenced to speak to her 
 on a variety of subjects. At last, finding 
 her replies to every question he asked so 
 ridiculously stupid, he rose from her side 
 
 VOL. I. M
 
 162 STEYNEVILLE ; 
 
 completely disgusted. On the pretence of 
 fearing to offend her sister if he did not 
 speak to her a while, he passed over to the 
 Princess Lily's side, and was so delighted 
 and enchanted by her wit, conversation, 
 cleverness, and modesty, that he fell in 
 love with her, and forgot all about Mary- 
 anna. 
 
 '' Next day the young prince went to the 
 king, who sate in council with his eyes shut 
 — thinking deeply, no doubt — and, giving 
 him a gentle but firm shake, desired a parley 
 with his majesty. The king, with natural 
 candour, bade all the courtiers and coun- 
 cillors go to Jericho, and, knowing on what 
 business the prince intended to speak, winked 
 at him openly, and dug his handsome pros- 
 pective son-in-law in the ribs. 
 
 " ' Enough of this sorry jesting, though,' 
 cried the monarch, ringing a golden bell 
 studded with diamonds with his own kingly 
 hand ; ' we will have 'em both sent here. 
 Send the two princesses here, you fellow,' 
 cried he, with dignity, to the servant, who 
 tremblingly answered his dread master's 
 summons.
 
 OR, FATED FORTUNES, 163 
 
 " In two minutes the sisters entered. 
 * Here,' said the king, a tear trickling down 
 his royal nose as he spoke ; taking the hand 
 of the Princess Mary anna — ' Here, take her, 
 my lad, and may you be happy. Boo-hoo ! ' 
 
 " ' 'Gad ! that's not the one,' answered 
 the prince as soon as he had recovered 
 from his amazement ; ' no, 'tis the sweet 
 Princess Lily. For the one that possesses 
 the treasures of the mind is worth ten 
 thousand times more than she who has but 
 the fleeting and tawdry beauty of the face.' 
 
 " So saying, the prince clasped fche gentle 
 lady in his arms, and having already obtained 
 her father's consent, married her offhand, and 
 lived happily ever after." 
 
 " And what became of the other, the lovely 
 Princess Mary anna ? " asked my little kins- 
 woman, earnestly, getting from my knee. 
 
 She was quick enough to see the likeness 
 between Maryanna and herself. 
 
 " 0, she — she," I replied, hesitating, " she 
 died of vexation and jealousy soon after the 
 marriage of her plain sister." 
 
 I congratulated myself on having so easily 
 disposed of her highness, for Heaven only
 
 164 STEYNEVILLE; 
 
 knows what questions concerning her after- 
 life Almyra would not have put to me. 
 ***** 
 
 That evening, as I was busily engaged in 
 copying some music for my fair French 
 friend, Mdlle. de Montbron, the French lady 
 I have already spoken of, the Abbe entered 
 and tapped me on the shoulder. 
 
 Wondering what could have caused this 
 unusual visit, I laid down my quill and 
 waited for him to speak first, which he 
 presently did. 
 
 " Ha," said he, " thou art astonished, my 
 infant, that I come to see thee, to interrupt 
 thee a la fin, at the end; but I wish to 
 speak to thee of the fair little rebel, Almyra." 
 
 "Indeed!" 
 
 "Yes, indeed, my faith. This afternoon, 
 as I sit reading to myself, just having 
 finished with the docile, gentle Mdlle. Annie, 
 I hear a light step, and on looking up I find 
 it is none other than Mdlle. la rebelle herself 
 with a lesson-book in her hand. I wait 
 patiently for her to speak, wondering at her 
 visit, like thou dost at mine. At last, in a 
 brave, firm little voice, she says — ' M. I'Abbe
 
 OR, FATED FORTUNES. 165 
 
 j'ai appris ma legon, et je vous assure que jeue 
 serais pas plus mechante, voulez-vous m'econ- 
 ter et me pardonner ? ' I cannot resist her. I 
 take the book from her hand and cry, ' A la 
 bonne heure ; ' and then she recites her 
 legon in such a wonderful fashion, so ex- 
 actly and so intelligently, that I cannot but 
 clap my hands and open my eyes with 
 astonishment and ma foi ! oui — admiration ! " 
 cried the Abbe, with great animation. " What 
 think'st thou of it, my brave ? It is a trans- 
 formation, a wonder. Apres cela, I shall be 
 surprised at nosing, absolutely nosing, in the 
 whole of the universe ! " 
 
 I feigned an astonishment almost as in- 
 tense as that of the good little divine him- 
 self. And no one ever knew the true reason 
 of Almyra's sudden attachment to study save 
 myself.
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 It was one of the grand jeu nights, and 
 beneath the hospitable roof of Norton Castle 
 were assembled a very fine company. In- 
 deed, it was a very galaxy of wit, talent, 
 valour, and beauty that graced the noble 
 halls of Norton. 
 
 The gay Mr. Prior, the satirical Mr. Pope, 
 the savage Irisb Dean, Swift, kept the gentle- 
 men below stairs, still at their wine, in a con- 
 tinuous roar; whilst the witty Lady Mary 
 Wortley and the beautiful Miss Howard 
 reigned jointly over the little kingdom above 
 stairs. Little Mr. Pope had been a great 
 admirer of Lady Mary Wortley, but ever 
 since she had corrected his unwelcome atten- 
 tions with a sounding box on the ear the 
 poet had ceased to regard the spirited lady in
 
 STEYNEVILLE. 167 
 
 the same amiable light as heretofore, and 
 now never lost an opportunity of abusing 
 her, publicly and privately ; but she who was 
 most concerned heeded him the least, laugh- 
 ing most good-humouredly at every fresh 
 piece of malignity uttered by the unforgiving 
 small-minded genius and told her by her 
 dear friends. 
 
 Coloured lights innumerable, dresses re- 
 splendent with gems and lace, and faces 
 charming with the smiles of gaiety and 
 pleasure, graced the salon where the ladies 
 sate chatting after dinner. And, ye gods, 
 what chatter it was ! I declare, on my 
 honour, the prattle of children was not more 
 free or innocent than that of these gaily- 
 dressed dames. Now and then the hearty, 
 jolly laughter of my mistress and Lady 
 Mary sounded above all the rest. And it 
 was laughter too ! None of your mincing 
 giggles ; none of your young ladies' titter 
 — he ! he ! — but a kind and sincere ha ! 
 ha ! ha ! ha ! which did your heart good to 
 listen to, and inclined you to join in though 
 you could not tell the wherefore. 
 
 I was seated at one end of the room by the
 
 168 STEYNEVILLE; 
 
 side of my fair enslaver, Mdle. de Montbron, 
 Poor lad that I was, I imagined the lady was 
 interested in my conversation, and — myself, 
 and gave no heed to the oft-repeated ques- 
 tions, " Are the gentlemen soon coming up 
 from their wine?'' and "How long do they 
 usually linger over their cups when the ladies 
 have left the table?" Ah, me! Then I 
 thought it but artless curiosity without a 
 motive ; now 1 know otherwise. For the 
 fair coquette was never happy unless she 
 had some heart to captivate — even though a 
 boy's, in absence of a manlier one. A 
 feminine Alexander, in brief, who would 
 have wept had she no more worlds, that 
 is to say hearts, to conquer. I was 
 sitting, by her side I say, trying to make 
 myself agreeable and pleasant as possible 
 when my lady's woman, Sara, entered the 
 room, and whispered, with a scared face, a 
 few words in her ear. On this my lady rose 
 with an ejaculation of astonishment, and, 
 looking at me, beckoned me to her. Making 
 a hasty apology to my fair companion, I 
 hurried across the room, and asked my lady, 
 with a bow, what she wished.
 
 OR, FATED FORTUNES. 169 
 
 " Ein hiibscher knabe, wahrfaftig " (" A fine 
 lad, truly ") said Lady Mary "Wortley, look- 
 ing at me critically. 
 
 " Meine dame," I returned, with a deep 
 bow. " I bin ihnen selir verbunden fiir ihre 
 gute meinung " (" I am much obliged to you 
 for your good opinion.") 
 
 " My dear Wortley," broke in my lady, " a 
 truce to your compliments, for at present I 
 am in great trouble." 
 
 *' Trouble?" 
 
 " Yes, trouble. Fancy, my woman coming 
 to put my two little nieces " (for so she was 
 good enough to call my two cousins) *' to bed, 
 only finds the eldest — the youngest, my 
 pretty Allie, is nowhere to be found ! What 
 shall I do ; advise me, my dear Wortley. 
 And you, Harold, for Heaven s sake, go in 
 the grounds and see if you can find her 
 wandering about there." 
 
 I was about to make off in all possible haste 
 when — 
 
 " Stay, stay. Master Harold," called out 
 Lady Mary ; and to enforce obedience to her 
 commands, she actually caught hold of a 
 handful of my curls and held them tightly
 
 170 STEYNEVILLE; 
 
 in her grasp. " There, now," she continued, 
 laughing, " Mercury cannot go about his 
 errand ; and I can assure you, my poor Nor- 
 ton, there is no cause for fear. That charm- 
 ing little niece of yours is all safe and sound, 
 Pm certain. Shall I tell you where I think 
 she is ? Yes ? Then go downstairs to that 
 Hades, where those merry devils are drink- 
 ing, and fetch from thence thy Eurydice; go, 
 Orpheus ! " 
 
 Needing no second command, I posted out 
 of the room with commendable celerity, and 
 soon reached the door of the dining- hall, and 
 stayed awhile, with my hand on the door, to 
 regain the breath I had lost before entering. 
 
 Presently, wondering at the absolute quiet 
 which reigned within, and hearing no sound 
 from a place where the greatest clamour and 
 noise usually prevailed, I opened the door 
 deftly, and stepped in unobserved. 
 
 There a wonderful sight and sound met 
 my eyes. At first I was inclined to ima- 
 gine myself under the influence of a fan- 
 tastic delusion ; but no, the scene was too 
 real to be the offspring of a fevered brain. 
 "What was it I saw ? "What was it I heard ?
 
 05, FATED FORTUNES. 171 
 
 This : In the centre of the room, under the 
 cynosure of about forty pairs of eyes, stood 
 Miss Almyra Marlande, singing to the gentle- 
 men, in her fresh, true ringing little voice, 
 the following, a rondel of the fourteenth 
 century : — 
 
 Allez vous en, Allez, Allez, 
 
 Souci, soins, et melancolie 
 
 Me cuidez-vous toute ma vie 
 Gouverneur comme fait avez ? etc. 
 
 With a natural grace, perfectly irresistible, 
 and with the boldness of childish innocence 
 and vanity combined, the little maid sung the 
 singularly appropriate song. When it was 
 ended the storm of applause that followed 
 was decidedly prolonged as it was well- 
 merited. As for myself, I was perfectly 
 horrified. To me it seemed veritably the 
 dove in a nest of hawks ; although, it must 
 be confessed, a very good-natured, well- 
 dressed, and, on the whole, kindly disposed 
 set of hawks. 
 
 I came forward hurriedly, and whispered 
 her to come with me. 
 
 *' Nay," says the little maid, aloud, *' I da 
 not wish to go, cousin Hally." 
 
 "To go! No, certainly not," exclaimed
 
 172 ST EY NEVILLE; 
 
 my Lord Alingdale, with a good-humoured 
 laugh. " Come, Harold, old fellow, and sit 
 here," pointing to a vacant seat; " and, Miss 
 Marlande, allow me to present you with this 
 brooch as a slight acknowledgment for the 
 sweet song with which you have favoured 
 us." 
 
 So saying, he unclasped a beautiful little 
 brooch, all set in brilliants, from his neck- 
 ruffle, and gave it to my young kinswoman. 
 
 " My lord," I said, in a low voice, '' for 
 Heaven's sake consider she is but a child; 
 and although she does not know the value of 
 such presents — " 
 
 " Bah ! " cried the nobleman, with a curse, 
 " what a young, old-fashioned Puritan" (which 
 I certainly was not) " thou art. If I have a 
 mind to give the pretty creature my head 
 — no one shall prevent me. Look here, 
 Allie," he continued, purposely to annoy 
 me, taking the child's hand and putting a 
 silver dessert plate into it, " go round to each 
 of these beautiful gentlemen, and let's see 
 how they'll remunerate you for your song. 
 Don't listen to your cousin, but go at once," 
 he added, in a whisper.
 
 OR, FATED FORTUNES. 173 
 
 Like a cloud, I remarked, witli sometliing 
 of a shudder, his dark, dark hair fall over the 
 bright tresses of the fair girl. 
 
 Delighted with her mission, and nothing 
 daunted, Allie took the plate — and the advice. 
 A universal silence was demanded and 
 obtained by my lord, who informed the 
 gentlemen in a few words what was about 
 to take place. The proposition of rewarding 
 the young singer meeting with general 
 favour, she commenced her rounds. Soon 
 the bottom of the plate was almost covered 
 by the glittering heap of jewellery which 
 each dandy in his turn took off his own 
 person to give to my little kinswoman. I 
 say dandy, because Almyra had not as yet 
 approached the greater lights of the assembly. 
 Mr. Pope was the first of these before whom 
 she held her plate, and with a smile quite 
 foreign to his satirical countenance, he asked 
 her what she would care to have in particular 
 of him, as he wore no jewels of any kind. 
 Now, Almyra had lately read one of his 
 poems, which she professed to admire very 
 much ; so she said earnestly — 
 
 " Are you Mr. Pope ? "
 
 174 STEYNEVILLE; 
 
 "Yes," returned the poet; ''but why do 
 you ask, my fair maid ? " 
 
 " As you are so clever, so very, very clever, 
 do not give me anything like this " — pointing 
 to lier glittering heap — " but only give me a 
 little, only a little of your learning ! " 
 
 As he could not comply with the modest 
 request, miss passed on to the next, rather 
 disappointed. This next was Mr. Prior. 
 
 " Put the plate down on the table," he 
 said, his black eyes twinkling with merriment 
 and bonhomie, '' and I will give you some- 
 thing better than either of these baubles, 
 albeit, not so lasting." 
 
 Almyra wonderingly obeyed. Everyone 
 looked on interested, none guessing what 
 priceless, though ephemeral treasure, the 
 merry poet intended to give the plate-holder. 
 A shout of laughter greeted the present 
 awarded by Mr. Matthew Prior — it was a 
 kiss ! 
 
 My blood boiled within me — my heart was 
 throbbing wildly with suppressed fury. I 
 could have annihilated the whole assembly 
 had it lain in my power to do so ; but as it 
 was, I could do nothing, so none were hurt
 
 on, FATED FORTUNES. 175 
 
 \>y my wrath, and none the wiser. But Dean 
 Swift looked with a hard eye on the whole 
 proceedings, and when the little plate-holder 
 •came to him, he asked her brusquely what 
 she wished. 
 
 None had ever spoken like this to her 
 before. The harsh tones, and harsher glance 
 bent on her made her tremble, and a tear 
 of anger started to her eye. 
 
 " I can give ye nothing but advice, child," 
 he said. " I am poor, and can cast no rich 
 gems on your plate, like yonder fine, gay, 
 courtly, and gallant gentlemen have done," 
 with acrimonious emphasis on each adjec- 
 tive ; " but, perhaps, better than pretty toys 
 is good counsel. Take my admonition ; leave 
 this place, and join the women-folk above 
 stairs. There, go away; thy face and manners 
 are too pretty for honesty ! " 
 
 There was a murmur of disapproval from 
 all sides at this laconic speech to the poor 
 child. 
 
 " Indeed ! " cried my lord, with a shrug. 
 " If beauty and virtue are incongruous, what 
 a perfect saint you must be yourself, Mr. 
 Swift ! "
 
 176 STEYNEVILLE; 
 
 " Who spoke to you, my lord ? " growled 
 tlie Dean, in no ways pleased with the 
 doubtful compliment. 
 
 " No one ; therefore I take it upon myself 
 to answer," returned the other. 
 
 " Take heed, my lord. Some people's pies 
 maybe too hot for your fingers," laughed the 
 jolly Mat Prior. 
 
 The two combatants ceased further cavil- 
 ling, and contented themselves with copious 
 draughts from the waters of Lethe. 
 
 Allie, with a flushed cheek and angry eye, 
 still went her rounds, nothing daunted or 
 intimidated by the austere language of the 
 Dean. Presently she came to the last person 
 looking on the proceedings with a somewhat 
 rueful expression of countenance — Colonel 
 Death. 
 
 "My dear," he said, looking sorrowfully 
 at the sparkling pile on the plate extended 
 towards him, " I am very, very poor, and 
 haven't anything but thanks to give you." 
 
 " Very poor ! " repeated Almyra, gravely. 
 " Yery, very poor. Colonel Death ! Truly ?" 
 
 "Yes, really and truly; very poor," an- 
 swered the Colonel, with a comical affectation
 
 OR, FATED FORTUNES. 177 
 
 of regret, half-earnest for all its assumed 
 pretence. 
 
 "Then shut your eyes, please, Colonel 
 Death," cried Almyra, with a delighted 
 little laugh. 
 
 '' Why ? " 
 
 " Shut your eyes ! " cries miss, a little 
 more imperiously this time. 
 
 As a good soldier, under the mandate of 
 a superior officer, the Colonel complied with 
 commendable military promptitude ; then, bid- 
 ding him to hold out his hands, the generous 
 little soul poured into them the whole* of 
 her presents, reserving but one thing for 
 herself, the brooch that Lord Alingdale had 
 given her. 
 
 The good Colonel's heart, completely taken 
 by storm at this piece of unlooked-for 
 liberality, swore a big oath; and, throwing 
 the jewels on the table, clasped my young 
 kinswoman in his arms. But Mistress 
 Allie drew herself up with all possible 
 dignity. 
 
 " Indeed ! Colonel Death," she cried ; 
 '' though I did give you those pretty things, 
 I did not give you leave to kiss me. Nay, I 
 
 VOL. I. N
 
 178 STEYNEVILLE; 
 
 shall go with cousin Hally now ; please to 
 let me go." And drawing herself away, and 
 marching with a stately step to where I sat, 
 the young lady took my hand. 
 
 Amid the uproar following her act of 
 generosity, I heard the voice of Mr. Swift, 
 who was not far off from me, muttering 
 something concerning the '' spoiling of saucy 
 brats." 
 
 My cousin and I were both near the door 
 ready to depart, when my lord called out 
 jestingly — 
 
 " Come, Miss Allie ; pray don't you think 
 I deserve a kiss for the pretty brooch I gave 
 you ; eh ? " 
 
 Almyra looked hesitatingly, first at me 
 then at her treasure, and lastly at the giver 
 himself, who held out both hands laughingly 
 to her. She demurred no longer, but liberat- 
 ing my hand, which she had hitherto clasped 
 within her own, she approached my Lord 
 Alingdale; and taking one of the extended 
 hands, raised it to her lips, like a little actress 
 that she was, and kissed it demurely. 
 
 " Thank you, my lord," she said, retreat- 
 ing, without giving him time to utter another
 
 on, FATED FORTUNES. 179 
 
 word. " Thank you, my lord, and good- 
 night, gentlemen." 
 
 Dropping a pretty curtsey, she tripped 
 out of the room with me — with a face that 
 plainly said, " What do you think of that 
 performance ? " — in no ways pleased with the 
 scene I had witnessed.
 
 CHAPTER XYI. 
 
 I WAS twenty years old wlien I made my first 
 appearance at Oxford. It was my inten- 
 tion to study there for two years. As my 
 dear father in his lifetime had purposed me 
 for the army, my Lord Alingdale generously 
 promised me a commission when I left 
 College. Indeed, he had all along acted 
 very kindly to me ; and so, perhaps, it is no 
 wonder that I grew to love him. 
 
 Having bidden an affectionate farewell to 
 my two young cousins and our common 
 benefactress, Lady IN^orton (who gave me 
 in parting a beautiful pair of diamond 
 shoe-buckles, which I was never exquisite 
 enough to make use of), I started off to 
 Oxford, accompanied by my kind lord. It 
 was dusk when we arrived, and after various
 
 STEYNEVILLE, l%\ 
 
 formalities had been passed through, and in- 
 troductions made, my lord took me aside, and 
 said — 
 
 "Fow, look ye, Hal, never be afraid to 
 ask me for arty thing, I will do all that lies in 
 my power to get you what you wish — if thou 
 dost not forget me." {Forget him ! Why 
 did he say this ? — and so bitterly.) '' Write 
 to me sometimes, and tell me how you are 
 getting on, and if there is any possibility of 
 your being canonized as a saint — or pro- 
 fessor," he added, laughing. " So good-bye, 
 my boy ; " and ere I had time to expostulate, 
 to express my gratitude, or regret at leaving 
 him, he had shaken my hand most cordially, 
 and, pressing into it a heavy purse, left me 
 standing in a strange place alone. 
 
 To remain in a bleak, ill-furnished apart- 
 ment is, at the best of times, far from 
 agreeable ; but even that unpleasant situation 
 may be enhanced, as it was unquestionably in 
 my case. Here was I seemingly in the midst 
 of utter desolation, knowing nobody, known 
 by none save a pair of fat dons and a 
 morose-looking proctor, all three of whom 
 had vanished. Here was I, I say, in a dimly-
 
 182 S TEYNEVILLE ; 
 
 lighted room, without knowing what to do or 
 where to go. Could they entirely have for- 
 gotten me ? thought I. I went to the door 
 and listened, but no sound of a footstep met 
 my ear, and so I remained as desolate as 
 ever. Fortunately I had a book in my pocket, 
 from which I might learn patience — a little 
 black book, which I loved for itself, and for 
 its associations. Presently, imagining I heard 
 at last the long-wished-for sound of a human 
 tread, I closed the volume, and, placing it on 
 the table, forgot all about it. 
 
 My ears had not deceived me, for a tall, 
 lithe, youthful form entered, and, without 
 noticing me, went straight to a bookshelf, 
 which I had not remarked, and taking from 
 thence a book, was about to proceed out 
 again. 
 
 "Ha-hum," coughed I, "may I — " 
 
 Before 1 had time to continue ray question 
 the student turned to me and said, in a 
 surprised tone of voice — 
 
 "What! de Crespigny, ^/ow here ? What 
 on earth are you doing? I thought you 
 were up with the other fellows." 
 
 It was my turn to look astonished now.
 
 OR, FATED FORTUNES, 183 
 
 apart from the fact that the oval face and 
 curly pate inclined towards me were perfectly 
 familiar. 
 
 " Indeed,'' I returned, " you mistake me. 
 I have just arrived, and thinking I had been 
 forgotten by the gentlemen to whom I have 
 been introduced, I was about to ask you if 
 you will do a fellow-student the kindness to 
 acquaint them — " 
 
 " Certainly, with great pleasure. Excuse 
 me for interrupting you, but what is your 
 name ? You are so uncommonly like some 
 one else here, that I'm afraid there will be 
 no end of mistakes made. In fact, you are a 
 double of de Crespigny, and only that your 
 eyes are very dark — almost black — and his 
 are blue, I see no difference in you. It is 
 perfectly wonderful. Indeed, I never knew 
 anyone like de Crespigny, except one." 
 
 '' Who was that ? " I asked, strangely 
 interested. "I remember your face, but I 
 cannot think of your name. Can, can it be 
 Stapleton ? " I hazarded, looking at him 
 earnestly. 
 
 " Can it be ? It is," returned the other, 
 heartily. " And are you Steyneville ? "
 
 184 STEYNEVILLE; 
 
 "I am," I said, delighted to see his face 
 again, which had altered but little, and 
 retained the same expression it had worn 
 when we played together at Steyneville 
 Hall years ago. 
 
 " Come along, old fellow," said Sydney, 
 linking his arm in mine, '' and I'll introduce 
 you to de Crespigny, your double, and the 
 rest — not a bad set, I assure you. You have 
 come most propitiously; it happens to be our 
 meeting night. Never mind asking me now 
 the meaning of it, but come and see. How's 
 Allie ? Is she as pretty as she was ? I've 
 often thought of you two. I suppose I was 
 as far from your thoughts as the Antipodes. 
 Well, Mr. Freshman, I shall be revenged on 
 you now ; I intend to obtrude myself very 
 much upon you. What a pretty fellow thou 
 hast grown, too. The fair dames of Oxford 
 will be for eloping with ye at first sight. 
 Never till now have I had occasion to thank 
 the gracious gods for my ugliness — " 
 
 " I give you notice, Stapleton," said I, 
 highly amused with his rattle, " that if you 
 angle in shallow Ashless water, even though 
 with good bait, you will catch nothing.'*
 
 OR, FATED FORTUNES, 185 
 
 " Precisely, my Allegorist ; for tlie present 
 I have forgotten all about your baggage, 
 which containeth, no doubt, garbs wherewith 
 the transcendant loveliness — " 
 
 *' I cry you mercy ! " I interposed. " If 
 you have no objection, my dear fellow, I 
 should like to see my trunks deposited in the 
 room which is destined to be my sleeping 
 apartment, after which I am your humble 
 servant." 
 
 " Come along, then ; " and Sydney, in his 
 old boyish fashion, dragged me impetuously 
 down several flights of stairs, through long 
 dimly-lighted corridors, till at length we 
 arrived at a passage, traversing which, a great 
 sombre-coloured door stared us morosely 
 and ominously in the face. This portal was 
 not unlike the awful one that loomed on 
 Dante ages ago on his entrance in Hades, 
 and on which the words, " Give up all hope 
 ye who enter here " were inscribed ; the 
 difference being this : the Italian visionist 
 ^aw the terrible all-prospect-blasting sen- 
 tence ; whereas, here you rather felt it. 
 The gloomy-looking door was, after all, 
 but the entrance of one of the proctor's
 
 186 STEYNEVILLE; 
 
 studies. Here, after having knocked we 
 entered, and to a fat, pompous little man, 
 Stapleton explained his mission, and intro- 
 duced myself. 
 
 "Ha, yes; just so," said this personage, 
 without even looking at me. "Mr. Steyne- 
 ville, how do you do, sir ? Well, I hope ? '^ 
 I bowed. "Your room, No. 33, is next to 
 that of de Crespigny. Pray show it to him, 
 Stapleton. Your trunks are already there." 
 
 Having thanked him, we salaamed low and 
 disappeared, Stapleton now leading me in a 
 totally different direction. 
 
 " Pray," said I, " who is this de Crespigny 
 of whom I am destined to hear so much, and 
 next to whose room I am about to be ? " 
 
 "Valerian de Crespigny," said Sydney, 
 with a light laugh, " is a charming, gloomy^ 
 mysterious, generous fellow, as you will find 
 out for yourself. Come along. Here we 
 are. By-the-bye, you're not shy, are you ? " 
 
 If my newly-found old comrade was at 
 the moment disposed to consider me so, I 
 soon dispelled his fears on that score by a 
 hearty laugh. Encouraged by the sound, he 
 knocked at the door before-mentioned, and.
 
 OR, FATED FORTUNES. 187 
 
 receiving permission to enter from a multi- 
 tude of voices within, we did so together. 
 
 I found myself in a good-sized room, well 
 illuminated bj numerous wax lights. In the 
 centre, around a great table, were seated 
 about twenty-five young fellows, whose ages 
 varied, I should say, from eighteen to twenty- 
 six. In front of each of these gentlemen 
 was a bottle and a glass, and, judging by a 
 few words I heard on entering, some of them 
 had perhaps made a little too free with the 
 former. Fruits of various descriptions, on 
 fine glass, were placed in the middle of the 
 table, and flowers too. As I gave a hasty 
 glance round I perceived that the owner of 
 the room had no common taste, for beautiful 
 little pictures hung on the walls, and the 
 shelves, perfect miracles of fine carving,, 
 arrested the attention of the most unob- 
 serving eye, being adorned by antiquities and 
 curiosities of the most valuable description. 
 
 Stapleton's entrance with me was the 
 signal for exclamations of surprise, all 
 of which were not entirely of a coherent 
 nature. 
 
 *' Another Crespigny come to judgment,.
 
 i88 STEYNEVILLE; 
 
 bj Jove ! " cried one young gentleman, after 
 staring some time at me, thumping his fist 
 on the table and causing the glass ware to 
 jiggle. 
 
 " One moment, if you please, gentlemen ! " 
 <}ried Sydney, waving his hand as if to com- 
 mand silence. 
 
 *' Go it. Butterfly," said the same gentle- 
 man again. 
 
 *' This is a new-comer, friends, English- 
 men, and countrymen, an old comrade of 
 mine, for whose stability and natural fairness 
 •of character I can vouch. T wish, therefore, 
 to introduce him to our select society, so that 
 with his shining talents and virtues he may 
 become a distinguished member," spake the 
 irrepressible Sydney, with marvellous gravity. 
 
 " Hear ! hear ! " cried the assembly. 
 
 " To begin with," said Sydney, " allow 
 me to present you to the host, who, doubt- 
 less, with my recommendations, will receive 
 you well. Valerian de Crespigny — Harold 
 Steyneville. You must know we recognise 
 no distinction, or title here ; we are plain 
 •Crespignys, Steynevilles and Stapletons, 
 no misters, sirs, lords, viscounts or anything
 
 OR, FATED FORTUNES, ISO* 
 
 else; simply as we were baptised so we 
 call each other." 
 
 I started as I looked full into the face 
 before me. I might have been looking into 
 a mirror, it was so like mine ; save the eyes, 
 which were, as Stapleton had said, of a 
 sapphire hue. 
 
 Crespigny extended his hand, and as I 
 grasped it within mine a strange thrill 
 passed through me, and I felt as if I could 
 have clasped him in my arms, as if I had 
 found someone near and dear whom I had lost 
 — a strange, unutterable sensation of satis- 
 faction and pleasure. He, on his part, pressed 
 my hand with more kindliness and warmth 
 than is usually accorded to an entire stranger, 
 and bade me welcome. 
 
 " Now," said Stapleton, gaily, " if you two 
 have finished complimenting and spooning 
 over each other, like a couple of mock-turtles, 
 let's sit down and be comfortable, and let the 
 President read the Society's rules to Steyue- 
 ville. Woe be to him who infrinc^es them ! " 
 
 o 
 
 *' Introduce me, I entreat ye, Stapleton," 
 said a melanocomous dismal youth, extra- 
 ordinarily lank of body.
 
 190 STETNEVILLE ; 
 
 " That is Kenneth Twyne, the poet, com- 
 monly known as the ' Moth ' in the Society." 
 
 Indeed, I considered this sobriquet singu- 
 larly appropriate, and was hardly surprised 
 to hear it. We bowed gravely. 
 
 " This," continued Sydney, pointing to an- 
 other, " is Benedict Hales, or the ' Adder,' so 
 dubbed because he is frightfully venomous." 
 And so he continued to introduce me to the 
 others until he came to the end of the whole 
 •circle. It was a perfect Noah's ark, each 
 gentleman possessing the name of some bird, 
 beast, fish, reptile or insect in conjuuction 
 •with his own. 
 
 " De Crespigny," added Stapleton in con- 
 clusion, " is the only one of us who is 
 called by his proper cognomen, because not a 
 man amongst us can tell what animal he 
 does resemble mostly. Never mind ! Dum 
 vivimus vivimus ! Here, take the vacant 
 ohair between the Moth and de Crespigny, 
 and the rules of the Society shall be read 
 to enlighten your unsophisticated pericra- 
 nium. As the Moth don't imbibe much, I 
 give jou full permission to assist him in 
 ■emptying his bottle."
 
 OR, FATED FORTUNES. 191 
 
 Having given air to this remarkable piece 
 of generosity and self-denial, the Butterfly 
 sat down with a complacent smile on his 
 countenance, as if he had been doing some- 
 thing remarkably beneficent. " The Moth,'' 
 or Kenneth Twyne, passed me his bottle with 
 commendable alacrity, and I sat down in my 
 allotted seat, not a little bewildered by my 
 strange surroundings. 
 
 The one who had been introduced to me 
 as the Adder read as follows : — 
 
 *' EULES OF THE AnTE-CONVENTIONALISTS. 
 
 Society. 
 
 '' 1. Each member admitted into the Society 
 must absolutely possess ^ome quality, not in 
 common with the rest of human kind, and if 
 resembling in any way a peculiar species of 
 bird, beast, fish, fowl, reptile, insect or even 
 biped, the said member must not object to 
 the appellation, or rebaptism, allotted him 
 by competent judges. 
 
 " 2. Any member found engaged in an 
 act contrary to the Society's notions of truth 
 and honour, shall be expelled immediately. 
 
 " 3. The ante-conventionalists have the
 
 192 STEYNEVILLE; 
 
 full power of giving each other's possessions 
 away to the member or members who shall 
 require them more than the owner. 
 
 *' 4. Any member giving way to wrath, 
 even though momentarily, shall be suspended 
 for the space of two months from the Society's 
 meetings and protection. Eash fools are in 
 no way eligible associates. 
 
 '' 5. An ante-conventionalist found assert- 
 ing his superiority mentally or physically 
 over a weaker creature shall be expelled. A 
 braggart and a poltroon shall not be tole- 
 rated. 
 
 " 6. As the A. C.'s are supposed to be 150 
 years in advance (in point of civilisation and 
 opinions) of their fellow creatures, an 
 original idea transcribed on paper with any 
 degree of perspicuity and lucidity shall be 
 discussed, debated, and commented upon, as 
 to its feasibility of carrying out, with the 
 greatest serenity. And any member per- 
 mitting his feelings to overcome his judg- 
 ment in the heat of the debate shall be 
 suspended. 
 
 " 7. The sole aim of the Society is to pro- 
 mote originality and to discourage imitation."
 
 OR, FATED FORTUNES. 193 
 
 When he had finished reading these rules I 
 could scarcely repress a smile, as I said — 
 
 *' They are somewhat rigorous." 
 
 " No," cried Syduej, " I don't think them 
 so. What appears to you to be so severe in 
 'em ? " 
 
 " This : In the first rule, I believe it is 
 stated that originality is a compulsory quali- 
 fication. I am afraid my talents are of too 
 common a kind for you to accept me as a 
 member." 
 
 " Three days are allowed. If within that 
 period nothing peculiar is found in your dis- 
 position, Steyneville," remarked the Adder, 
 a bright looking young fellow, with uncon- 
 ventional familiarity, " all is u. p." 
 
 " Pray," said I, laughing, " do not pass 
 sentence on me yet, although I fear for my 
 powers." 
 
 " Never you mind, lave yer powers alone," 
 interrupted Stapleton, imitating an Irish- 
 man with considerable skill. " Be jabbers, 
 yell put us all down yet, never fear, ere the 
 three days are over, shure an' faith." 
 
 " Imitation," murmured Kenneth Twyne, 
 or the Moth, " is distasteful; in rule seven—" 
 
 VOL. I.
 
 194 STEYNEVILLE; 
 
 "0, hang rule seven!" replied Sydney, 
 with vivacity. 
 
 " By all means," returned the dismal 
 youth, in a dreary monotonous voice, which 
 contrasted strangely with the gay tones of 
 the other. 
 
 De Crespigny, who had hitherto remained 
 silent, looking, I rather /eZ«^ than saw, at me 
 with considerable earnestness, now turned to 
 the rest, laughing at the fireless warfare 
 carried on between the Moth and the Butter- 
 fly, and demanded silence. 
 
 " Associates,'* the Butterfly began, " hav- 
 ing introduced a new-comer into our Society, 
 we have to all appearances forgotten our 
 duties. Have we only assembled to drink ? 
 No ? Then let us begin. Firstly hath every 
 man his ' Lucretius ? ' Yes ? Good." (All 
 with marvellous dexterity, as one person, 
 whipped out their books — all save de Cres- 
 pigny.) " I have heard from high authority 
 that someone intends paying us a visit to- 
 night — an inspection — merely to see if we 
 are in order ! Let not the person who comes 
 see us imbibing wine from the bottle, but 
 rather knowledge from the book. In short?
 
 OR, FATED FORTUNES. 195 
 
 associates, let us be found not as we are, but 
 as we should be." 
 
 '' When you have quite finished your 
 oration, perhaps we can commence our 
 duties ? " interrupted the Adder, courteously. 
 
 Sydney reseated himself with a perfectly 
 unmoved countenance, and pouring himself 
 out a bumper of wine, first waved it 
 graciously, as if calling a silent health, and 
 then putting the glass to his lips, drained it 
 to the dregs. 
 
 "Pst!" cried a young fellow suddenly, 
 whom I had not noticed before, standing in 
 a listening attitude by the door, " here he is ! 
 Be ready; I hear him creeping down the 
 passage, the old sly boots. Quick, you 
 fellows." 
 
 In an incredibly short space of time, 
 bottles and glasses disappeared, and in their 
 stead were substituted books and loohs, the 
 latter of intense study, and profound gravity. 
 De Crespigny, who had not been drinking, 
 leaned listlessly against the mantelpiece, and 
 though looking somewhat jaded and wearied, 
 still with his glance fixed on me. What was 
 that strange attraction ? If he turned his eyes
 
 196 STEYNEVILLE; 
 
 from me, I felt irresistibly drawn to veer my 
 eyes towards him, and vice-versa, 
 
 " Hush ! " whispered the same person who 
 had warned the rest before of the enemy's 
 approach, " he's listening." 
 
 " E tenebris tantis clarnm extollere lumen " 
 
 read Sydney, in a sonorous voice, for the 
 special edification of the eavesdropper. 
 
 {Loud) Confounded be the prying jack-ass 
 
 (Mumble, mumhle, mumble) 
 {Loud) Who Cometh when he not wanted is ; 
 
 {3Jmnble, mumble, viumble) 
 {Loud) May he, at no long distance hence, 
 
 {Mumble, mumble, mumble) 
 {Loud) Upon a tree, go hang himself, and die. 
 
 {Mumble, mumble, mumble) 
 
 {Loud) doubly accurs'd be he who cuts 
 
 His ugly carcase down again. 
 
 " Quod te imitari aveo." 
 
 Satan reward him for his pains. Ahem ! 
 
 " Is that correct, gentlemen ? " 
 
 This exceedingly original translation had 
 scarcely been read, with a countenance almost 
 austere in its wondrous gravity, when the 
 door opened, and the podgy form of a black- 
 gowned gentleman revealed itself. 
 
 " Hum ! " said the intruder, looking doubt- 
 fully at the owners of faces distorted with 
 the futile attempts to suppress mirth.
 
 OR, FATED FORTUNES. 197 
 
 " This is an essentially studious gathering 
 I suppose ! I am pleased to find you so be- 
 comingly employed, gentlemen ! But might 
 I inquire, sir," addressing Stapleton, " what 
 that dark object is projecting from your 
 coat there ? " 
 
 Dark indeed ! Stapleton in an unfortunate 
 haste had not taken sufficient precautions to 
 hide his bottle, so that the neck remained 
 visible to the keen eyes of the little man. 
 
 *' Meaning this, sir ? " asked Sydney, with- 
 out the ghost of a blush, and drawing forth 
 with remarkable promptitude, the " dark ob- 
 ject " indicated, to the evident surprise of his 
 companions. 
 
 " Yes, sir," glowered the other, ** I do, sir. 
 Is it usual for gentlemen to carry about 
 their persons such — such vile concoctions as 
 this ? It is disgraceful, positively disgraceful. 
 You are unfit to associate with your sober- 
 minded companions — ^yes, sir, I repeat, unfits 
 
 And he did repeat unfit, and that with 
 astonishing vehemence too ! 
 
 " JSTot at all, sir," returned the imperturb- 
 able Butterfly, placing his hand upon the 
 bottle; '' allow me to explain."
 
 198 STEYNEVILLE ; 
 
 " I shall allow nothing of the kind, sir,'^ 
 began the other; '' T shall report you." 
 
 " As you please, sir, " excessively politely ; 
 " but I can justify that which seems to you 
 now so inexcusable. You will agree with 
 me when I say that knowledge is a search 
 for Truth." 
 
 " If I do, that has nothing whatever to do 
 with the matter in hand." 
 
 " Pardon me, sir — everything ; only hear 
 me. If I am to be reported, be good enough 
 to state that you found me searching for the 
 Truth." 
 
 " Are you mad ? " said the astonished 
 gentleman, retreating as if in reality he con- 
 sidered the irrepressible young fellow afflicted 
 with a dangerous lunacy, which might possibly 
 be of a homicidal nature. 
 
 " Not at all — ' In vino Veritas ' — in wine, 
 sir, there is Truth. Having searched in vain 
 for it in every possible place and book, I come 
 to the conclusion that it must be where the 
 Latins say it is — here," answered Sydney, 
 pointing to the bottle. 
 
 "Pray, have you found it?" asked the 
 other, biting his lips, to repress the smile that
 
 OR, FATED FORTUNES. 199 
 
 forced itself there, despite his efforts. Even 
 this fierce little man's heart proved suscep- 
 tible to Sydney's sophistry. 
 
 '' Ah, sir," cries the reprobate, with an 
 ingenious assumption of modesty, ** that rests 
 not with me to say, for fear I should be 
 tempted to flatter my judgment." 
 
 And so the matter ended. The intruder 
 left as abruptly as he came, and, being a 
 good little man at the bottom, Sydney was 
 not reported after all. 
 
 But somehow or other the affair became 
 bruited abroad, and a month after there was 
 not a soul in the whole college who had not 
 become acquainted with Stapleton's logic ; 
 indeed, for a great while any argument of a 
 specious and ingenious nature was always 
 dubbed " Stapleton's Logic," and so it be- 
 came a perfect by-word amongst us.
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 No sooner had I bidden good-night to mj 
 fellow-students, who had expressed their 
 united opinions in so many words that I was 
 an exceedingly good fellow, and entered my 
 room with Stapleton, who stated it was his 
 intention to see me "all safe," when I became 
 aware of the uncomfortable fact that I had 
 mislaid my dearly-prized book, and for the 
 time could not recollect what I had done 
 with it. 
 
 *' What's up, my newly-exhumed old fos- 
 sil?" asked Sydney, banteringly, noticing 
 my perturbation, " have we been too much 
 for ye ? " 
 
 " Nay," said I, unwilling to tell him the 
 true cause ; " I have lost something.^'
 
 STEYNEVILLE. 201 
 
 " What is it ? Can't you tell a fellow ? " 
 
 "Well," I interrupted, *' it is not much, 
 iDeing only a little old book." 
 
 "A little old book, eh?" asked Sydney, 
 •eyeing me attentively. 
 
 "But I prize it beyond all measure, and 
 wouldn't lose it for the world," I said, 
 heartily. 
 
 " And you would not have it lost for all the 
 world. Ha ! " repeated my volatile friend, 
 -swinging his shapely legs to and fro. By- 
 the-bye, he was seated on the chest o£ 
 drawers. 
 
 " No ; not for the world ! " 
 
 "What kind of a book is it? Poetry, 
 romance, fiction, or truth ? " 
 
 " Truth," I said. 
 
 " {Or supposed to he.) Is this it ? " and to 
 my undisguised joy and wonder he drew the 
 identical volume I had almost given up for 
 lost from his pocket. 
 
 '' Thanks, thanks," said I, making a dash 
 at it, but it was only a dash, for Sydney 
 replaced it in its old receptacle, and said — 
 
 " Not so fast. Why do you want it to- 
 night ? 0, most devout of thy kind ! dost
 
 202 STEYNEVILLE; 
 
 think I take the trouble to pick up every tome- 
 that I see inadvertently left on tables, to re- 
 turn to their rightful owners, merely for the 
 pleasure of seeing things in their places ? You 
 mistake me. I shall render it unto thee all 
 in good time." 
 
 '' For the love of Heaven, Stapleton," said 
 I, at once amused and vexed, '' do be quiet 
 with that nonsense, and give — •" 
 
 ''Good-night, fare ye well, I'm off. I 
 entreat of ye not to try and catch me, 
 for your own sake, as you would unques- 
 tionably lose yourself in the labyrinthine 
 corridors." 
 
 With these words, much to my annoyance, 
 Sydney left me to myself. Tired with the" 
 events of the day, I turned into bed and soon 
 fell fast asleep. 
 
 T had already been two days in my new 
 domicile when the messenger brought me four 
 letters, three of which, I rightly construed, 
 came from my kind benefactors. Lady Norton 
 and my lord, one from my kinswomen, and 
 the remaining note addressed to me in aa 
 unknown hand. My Lady Norton wrote as 
 follows : —
 
 OR, FATED FORTUNES. 203 
 
 " I am glad to hear tliat you are con- 
 tented with your new position, my dear boy. 
 There is absolutely no news at all, saving that 
 we miss you very much. This tiresome world ! 
 Will everything always continue the same ? 
 Always the same dull round of monotony, 
 nothing changing save the weather, which is 
 wretched at present, after having been so 
 marvellously fine. At all events, Harold, if 
 things change, I find they change for the 
 worse. Perhaps I think so because I am 
 getting old and cynical. Cynical, ah me ! 
 and who shall say that I have not cause 
 to be so ?" (Poor woman, the old wound was 
 still open.) "We have been entertaining a 
 pretty set of coxcombs and fools here, but 
 most of them are leaving in a day or two, a 
 mercy for which I am unboundedly grate- 
 ful to Heaven. The noise of their senseless 
 chatter and clatter annoys me beyond all 
 measure, and I shall be heartily glad to be 
 well rid of them. 
 
 " Write soon to 
 
 " Your affectionate 
 
 " 0. Norton. 
 
 " Norton Castle, March. 17—."
 
 504 STEYNEVILLE; 
 
 The next, remarkable for its brevity, came 
 from my lord, and ran thus : — 
 
 " Deae Hal, 
 
 " Only these few lines to tell ye I am 
 about to leave England for a tour with 
 Death, who, by-the-bye, sends his love^ and 
 may not possibly return before a year or so, 
 " I am about to become a wanderer on the 
 face of the earth — a voluntary one — and un- 
 less I am dead I shall write to you now and 
 again. My demise you will know of by my 
 not sending any messages. 
 
 " Good-bye, dear boy. 
 
 " Yours, &c., 
 
 " Alingdale. 
 " P.S. — Don't trouble about college fees : 
 rail's arranged," 
 
 "Dear Coz, 
 
 " I have such heaps of news to tell 
 you that I do not know how to begin one 
 single item. Let me think now. Soberly, I 
 cannot ; my ideas want to rush out of my 
 head down to my pen, and from my pen to 
 the paper pell mell. 
 
 " Annie has been crying, such a vast
 
 OR, FATED FORTUNES, 205 
 
 amount of tears. I declare, I believe she has 
 drops in her eyes now, all for you, Mr. 
 Cousin, because you left her. Wicked 
 Theseus that you are ! It avails nothing 
 for me to tell her that the beau cousin will 
 come back soon ; she mourns still for you ! 
 The valley of tears I call her. Do you know 
 I cried too, when you went away, bub, dare 
 I confess the truth, I found the tip of my 
 nose became so red, that I had to leave off, 
 or desist, whichever you please, because 
 there's gay company at the castle, and it's no 
 use making a guy of one's self. 
 
 " A certain Mr. Chapman has been good 
 enough to pay great attention to me. Not 
 liking his kindnesses, however, I begged him 
 to transfer his affections elsewhere ; this he 
 would not do. At last, my lord noticing how 
 unwelcome his favours were to me, told him, 
 of course in other words, to go about his 
 business. With that awful sneer on his face, 
 I declare he looked like some bad spirit, and 
 made me quite afraid of him, afraid, yes, but 
 at the same time I could not help admiring 
 him too. 
 
 *• He is going away. Tant pis. He has
 
 206 STEYNEVILLE ; 
 
 given me a beautiful pair of earrings, match- 
 ing the brooch which he gave me when I 
 was quite a little thing; you remember, 
 when I sung, ' AUez vous en,' &c., and you 
 were so angry to find me chanting my poor 
 little melody to the gentlemen. He presented 
 them to me as a remembrance, he said. 
 And so I answered ' that I did not need a 
 souvenir to bring him to my memory, as I 
 could never forget him.' ' Do you really 
 mean that?' he asked, taking my hand and 
 looking at me very earnestly. ' Indeed, my 
 lord,' I replied, wondering, ' I do.' I cannot 
 conjecture what he was about to reply, for 
 just at that moment that vexatious Colonel 
 George (Death) makes his appearance on the 
 scene. Somehow or other he invariably 
 does, when my lord speaks to me." (I blessed 
 the honest Colonel inwardly.) 
 
 "I hear that my old playfellow Sydney 
 Stapleton is at college (his father came on a 
 short visit to my dear aunt). I hope you 
 are great friends with him. Pray ask if he 
 remembers Little Allie, of whom he used to 
 be so fond. Ask him also if he remembers 
 the times out of number he would take me
 
 OR, FATED FORTUNES. 207 
 
 out a-walking, and when he would climb up 
 such wonderfully high trees to get me birds' 
 nests, and almost drown himself by falling in 
 the river's swift current to pluck one of those 
 nasty slimy water lilies for me. 0, what a 
 naughty little piece of wilfulness I must have 
 been to have worried the poor lad so. 
 But I forget, he is grown up now, and so I 
 must not pity him ; he probably has forgotten 
 even my name. 
 
 " In two more years, dear old coz, I am 
 to be presented at Court. Fancy ! My dear 
 aunt has promised it me; is not that splendid ? 
 Mistress Almyra Marlande is going to hold 
 her head as high as any of your fine ladies, 
 perhaps higher ; who knows ? 
 
 " I am so enchanted with the glorious 
 prospects that are before me, that I can 
 scarcely write you a sober letter. I cannot 
 help giving a delighted little scream now as 
 I scribble this. Dear old-fashioned Annie is 
 looking at me from her work in astonish- 
 ment ; yes, the silly child cannot understand 
 my satisfaction with myself, and everybody, 
 even though I do try my best to explain. I 
 am afraid that you cannot either. And shall
 
 208 STEYNEVILLE; 
 
 I tell you why ? 'Tis because you are as old- 
 fashioned, yes, I repeat it, old-fashioned as 
 my charming little quakeress sister there ! I 
 cannot refrain from laughing when I think 
 how scandalised and shocked Mr. Probity 
 would be * if lie hears all that I hear, and see 
 all I see ! ' In the words of Ophelia, a little 
 altered. Yous voyez, mon beau, that for all 
 my worldliness, I do devote myself, when 
 I've a spare minute, to good literature, but, 
 entre-nous, it's tiresome. I like reading very 
 well indeed, when nothing else is to be done,, 
 when I can*t read people, but there are always 
 so many at the castle, that you will, of a cer- 
 tainty, agree with me that — but I forget what 
 I was about to say. I think I have written 
 quite enough confused nonsense to muddle 
 even your clever old brains. 
 
 '' Adieu, with love and kisses (that's to say^ 
 
 if you've nothing against 'em). 
 
 " Allie." 
 
 "P.S.— The Abbe Chatroniere sends re- 
 gards. Annie will write soon ; she cannot at 
 present, being prevented from holding her 
 pen by a bad finger." 
 
 The fourth note ran simply thus —
 
 OR, FATED FORTUNES, 209 
 
 *' The learned Society composed of the 
 A.C.'s have decided to receive you in their 
 circle. You are honoured by no ordinary 
 appellation. Henceforth you shall be known 
 in the Assembly as the ' Saint.' 
 
 *' By order of the President, Chairman and 
 others, 
 
 *' Signed, Valerian de Crespigny. 
 
 ** You are requested to attend a meeting 
 which is held to-night." 
 
 The paper flattered from my hands. Who 
 had told me once that my father had boen 
 so called when he was at college? Colonel 
 Death. They say the apple falls not far 
 from the tree. I hope so, 0, how sincerely I 
 hope so. From such a noble tree as my 
 father was, I, the poor fruit, was honoured 
 by being near. 
 
 ***** 
 
 It was through Stapleton's influence that 
 I had come by the doubtful sobriquet. He 
 had told them the story of my Bible, and 
 how he had come upon me unobserved in 
 time to see me laying it down ; how I had 
 wept at the thought of having lost it. All 
 
 VOL. I. p
 
 210 STEYNEVILLE. 
 
 this and mucli more did Stapleton inform tlie 
 Ante- Conventionalists in my absence, and so 
 it is I came by the name of " Saint." It 
 cost me not a little, for the outsiders, un- 
 conscious why I was so hight, taunted me 
 until I was compelled by physical reasoning 
 to demonstrate I was further from heaven 
 than they imagined. After awhile they 
 commenced to have a different opinion of 
 Saint Steyneville, and so I was molested no 
 more, greatly to my satisfaction. Although. 
 I was invariably victorious over my abusers, 
 yet, as someone hath said, even " Toujours 
 perdrix " becomes tiresome at last.
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 How shall I tell tlie story of a great friend- 
 ship, and an ephemeral love — both contracted 
 at college ? Noble de Crespigny — sweet 
 Alice Dale ! can ever my humble pen do you 
 both justice? By nature I am no hero- 
 worshipper; I cannot kneel in adoration to 
 those I love. A great man has said that a 
 flattering eye sees no faults, but that a 
 friendly one doth. I am no flatterer, nor 
 one who loves to form phantasmagorical 
 views of the greatness that human friendship 
 can be capable. Experience hath shown me 
 that the pure affection between two people, 
 Friendship, is not an obsolete sentiment 
 at which sceptics and cynics sneer. That 
 history repeats itself we know; and so we
 
 212 STEYNEVILLE; 
 
 shall see again a Damon and Pythias, a 
 Brutus and a Cassius. Even a friendship- 
 greater than either of these shall my pages 
 show forth to the patient reader. 
 
 Let me commence with my love of Alice 
 Dale. Fresh and pretty as the mountain 
 daisy, thy very ignorance and simplicity 
 were new charms to my wearied eyes — 
 wearied with seeing great worldly men and 
 women. Where art thou now ? Hast thou,, 
 if living stil], quite forgotten the dark-haired 
 undergraduate who spoke of Phyllis and Cory- 
 don, love and Latin to thee in a breath ? 
 Thou that couldst not understand a syllable 
 of his gibberish. Yes, it must be confessed 
 I was a young fool, in love as I believed with 
 my whole heart. Now I know otherwise. 
 Love indeed ! it was nothing more than a 
 desire to have someone to listen to my gran- 
 diloquence and verses without interrupting, 
 which this little peasant maiden did, with 
 her wondering eyes fixed on her lover with 
 awe and admiration, not, it must be owned, 
 amazed at the quality of the matter he spouted 
 forth, but at the quantity I 
 
 Perhaps she is married now — to some
 
 OR, FATED FORTUNES. 213 
 
 Tiulking boor of a peasant, belike, and, 
 liorror, surrounded by a dozen squalling, 
 hungry brats. Poesy recoils before real- 
 ism. jN'evertlieless, though I cannot help 
 thinking with contempt of my choice, it is a 
 pitying contempt for myself, beginning and 
 ending with myself only. 
 
 I first met Alice Dale coming from church 
 one Sunday, walking through a little old- 
 fashioned churchyard, where the peaceful dead 
 lay sleeping tranquilly beneath their time-worn 
 darkened stones, whilst the sun was setting, 
 casting a glorious tint on the objects bene'ath, 
 warming and brightening the cold place. 
 Yes, how beautifully her golden curls 
 sparkled in the light; how clear her light, 
 large eyes, shadowed by long eyelashes, 
 and scarcely any eyebrow, were ; how pretty 
 .and modest her whole appearance, as she 
 walked along, prayer and hymn books in 
 hand. Presently, as I passed this fair girl, 
 I was tempted to look round at her. As I 
 did this, she, perhaps prompted by a like 
 curiosity, turned her head towards me. Our 
 eyes met ! Ye Gods, what strange tremulous 
 joyful palpitations that glance gave me ! She
 
 214 STEYNEVILLE; 
 
 dropped her books. Whether by accident or 
 purposely I cannot tell, but at all events she 
 did drop them, and I — picked 'em both up. 
 It was perfectly natural, of course, that I 
 should offer to escort her home. Was it not 
 natural of her to accept? Natural or un- 
 natural, she did accept, and thus it was I 
 came, saw, and was conquered by the fair 
 Alice Dale. 
 
 Since the first night of my arrival, de 
 Crespigny had evinced a great liking to my 
 company, and I, on my part, was only too 
 glad, when I had finished my studies for the 
 next day, to drop into his rooms for a chat. 
 The Ante-Conventionalists meet twice a week 
 in his apartments, and the assembly was 
 as eccentric, convivial, and uproarious as 
 ever. Often when the others had left would 
 I stay behind. I cannot now explain why, 
 but that I felt irresistibly drawn towards 
 the solitary youth who so resembled me. 
 Solitary, I say, because even in the midst of 
 all laughter and gaiety, although often 
 partaking of it, he seemed alone and soli- 
 tary, unlike the others. Not scornful or 
 contemptuous, only sorrowful ; and yet he
 
 OR, FATED FORTUNES. 215 
 
 hid his strange sadness so well, that not one 
 single person of all his acquaintances sus- 
 pected or observed it. Perhaps I remarked 
 it because I saw him more than any of the 
 others. 
 
 One night, coming in unseen, although I 
 made sufficient noise to make him aware of 
 my approach, I noticed his cheeks were very 
 pale, his hair disordered, and his eyes ex- 
 pressing such an unutterable, grief, that I 
 felt moved and touched in spite of myself. 
 
 lie started as I laid my hand on his shoulder, 
 and looked up. 
 
 " Dear old fellow ! what is the matter with 
 you ? " I asked, earnestly. 
 
 " Matter," he answered, with a sad smile 
 " matter, nothing ; what should there be the 
 matter with me ? Sit down, I am glad you've 
 come in." 
 
 " But," I persisted, " something is the 
 matter. Do you think T am blind ? You are 
 as sad as any mortal can be. If you are un- 
 well write home to your friends, and they — " 
 
 " Home — friends ! " he echoed, bitterly ; 
 *' you speak to one of home and friends who 
 has neither."
 
 216 STEYNEVILLE; 
 
 " You are, then, like I, an orphan ? " I 
 asked gently, surprised at his tone. 
 
 " Yes ; my father died three years ago, and 
 left me under the guardianship of a good man, 
 who is — " 
 
 "Who is — " I hazarded, as he abruptly left 
 off speaking. 
 
 '' Who is dead," he answered, despairingly, 
 " as all those whom I loved are. 0, Steyne- 
 ville, Steyneville, you are the only one whom 
 I have ever cared to confide in, and who, I 
 know, will not smile at what I am about to 
 say." 
 
 " Nay, nay, indeed." 
 
 " It is true, then," he pursued, " that I am 
 a most unfortunate being ; I do not pity my- 
 self, and yet, do you know, since ever I was a 
 little lad, all people, all things to which my 
 love has been given, have either died, or gone 
 never to return. You think I speak wildly ; 
 God knows I speak the truth. I am afiuid 
 even to like you as I would, for I know my 
 love always brings death or misfortune to 
 those I hold dear. * Yes, the sins of the father 
 are visited on the children/ " he added, in a 
 lower tone, as if musingly.
 
 OR, FATED FORTUNES. 217 
 
 " De Crespigny," I replied, astonished at 
 what he spoke, " if you are suffering mentally, 
 -as I believe you to be, if I am truly 
 honoured by your prized friendship, confide 
 in me." 
 
 " Hush— it's nothing," he returned, with a 
 laugh of forced gaiety. " I often get these fits 
 •on me, but you see, my dark-haired Saint, 
 they do not last long; here I am, as merry 
 as ever." And to corroborate his statement, 
 he laughed long and heartily. 
 
 This is all very well, thought I, but your 
 laugh rings false, and, as I am your friend, 
 I shall find out your secret sorrow, and if I 
 can help you to be rid of it, or bear a portion 
 ^of it myself, I will.
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 It was a hot July evening, as I sate in my 
 room finishing a paper to be read that same 
 night, for the especial enlightenment and 
 behoof of the A.C.'s. It was so very warm 
 that I was compelled to shed my coat and 
 waistcoat before I could prepare myself to 
 write with any degree of comfort. Phew ! 
 the open window did not make the slightest 
 difference to the ardent atmosphere, too ar- 
 dent to be pleasant (like love), and instead 
 of cooling the temperature, the outside air 
 penetrating my apartment seemed to increase 
 the already intolerable heat. 
 
 I had but a few lines more to add to my 
 paper when someone knocked, and straight- 
 way walked in without waiting for permission.. 
 It was de Crespigny.
 
 STEYNEVILLE. 219 
 
 " Hallo ! Steyneville, come along ; the 
 fellows are waiting, and won't commence 
 without you." 
 
 "One moment," said I; " I have but two 
 lines more to write, and then I'm at your 
 service." 
 
 " Yery well, I'll wait," answered the other, 
 taking a chair exactly opposite. 
 
 With extraordinary zeal I applied myself 
 to my manuscript. Finishing the last line 
 I sprung from my seat : in doing this I had 
 not noticed that the ruffle of my shirt caught 
 in something, a nail, I think, and the violent 
 impetus tore it open, disclosing to view a 
 black ribbon, attached to which was a small 
 likeness of my mother. I always wore this 
 miniature, because it had belonged to my 
 dear father. I myself had found it under his 
 pillow when they had removed his remains, 
 and so I cherished it because of its associa- 
 tions. In vain I tried by a quick movement 
 to conceal the object from Crespigny's view. 
 My hand might have been quick, but his eyes 
 were quicker, and he begged me to allow him 
 to see the picture, whom he took to be some 
 fair enslaver, no doubt.
 
 220 STEYNEVILLE; 
 
 " It's notliing," said I, blushing, and clasp- 
 ing my hand tightly over my breast. 
 
 " If it's nothing I must see it," he replied, 
 laughing. '^ Do you want me to call in my 
 minions to assist me ? For I've sworn within 
 myself that I shall have a peep at lier picture ; 
 she who is capable of turning our Saint's 
 head. Come," he continued, gaily, "I shall 
 call Stapleton to my aid, and our combined 
 efforts shall compel ye to show us the beautiful 
 being. Do you know, I've a conviction that 
 she must be beautiful ; and, as I am an ar- 
 dent admirer of beauty myself, I — Good 
 God! who is it — who is this?" he asked, 
 hoarsely, staring at the picture with fright- 
 ened, bewildered looks. For finding it useless 
 to argue more, I had unfastened it from the 
 black ribbond and placed it in his hand. 
 
 *'Who is it?" I repeated, astonished at 
 the strangeness of his tones and manner. 
 
 " Yes, tell me, I repeat, who is it ? " he 
 asked, taking hold of my wrist. 
 
 " For Heaven's sake, de Crespigny," I 
 cried, " not a word more. Here comes some- 
 one to fetch us." 
 
 And taking it from his hand, I replaced it
 
 on, FATED FORTUNES. 221 
 
 just in time, for at that moment the Butterfly 
 entered. 
 
 " Upon my word," he cried, ironically^ 
 ** this is pleasant ; here I find you two fellows 
 looking at each other moon-struck, whilst 
 the rest are impatiently waiting for you. On 
 my soul it's too bad — positively heartless of 
 you. Here, St. Steyneville, have you been 
 fighting ? With a torn shirt, and no jacket 
 or waistcoat, and de Crespigny standing like 
 Hamlet about to spout, ' To be or not to 
 be.' Gentlemen, if you can explain your- 
 selves and your position, I shall be delighted, 
 I do assure you." And with these words 
 Stapleton sat down with a resigned, martyr- 
 like expression. 
 
 *' Never mind," said de Crespigny, with a 
 composure that contrasted strangely with his 
 former impetuosity ; " Steyneville is ready 
 now, and so we will make our reappearance 
 directly," which we did, I, in my haste, 
 forgetting the matter (a kind of sermon) 
 which had taken me such trouble to compile. 
 Our entrance was the signal for a universal 
 shout of satisfaction, and the members' curi- 
 osity being satisfied by an explanatory excuse.
 
 222 STEYNEVILLE ; 
 
 the business of the evening commenced. My 
 mind was so wholly wrapped up with the 
 wonderful emotion de Crespigny had ex- 
 hibited on seeing my mother's picture, that I 
 could not think of anything else. On one 
 point I was resolved, viz., to ask of him, 
 when the rest of the members had dispersed 
 to their respective rooms, an explanation. 
 
 Stapleton, with characteristic coolness, 
 commenced a dissertation in refutation of 
 the truth of Shakespeare's line, " A rose 
 by any other name would smell as sweet." 
 On his part (Stapleton's) he fully agreed with 
 the too-highly -eulogised- bard in stating that a 
 rose by any other name would smell as sweet 
 but not be as sweet. As an example, he 
 would take the names of the piece in which 
 the fair heroine said the aforementioned 
 words. Call Romeo and Juliet " Tom and 
 Jemima,'* and the play, to his mind, would 
 lose some of its beauty. Why ? because 
 we are used to associate the two vulgar 
 appellations with anything but majesty, love- 
 lines s, and tragedy. This argument might 
 appear superficial to the deep thinker, but he 
 (Stapleton) considered all things beneath the
 
 OR, FATED FORTUNES. 223 
 
 •sun wortliy of the greatest and profoundest 
 reflection, cogitation, meditation, etc. (any 
 ■amount of "tions"). He wished to demon- 
 strate, not how right he (Stapleton) was, but 
 how wrong Shakespeare was to write such 
 an unreasonable line. Again, he had heard 
 from unquestionable authority, that his in- 
 genious friend "the Moth" (Kenneth Twyne), 
 had written an Ode to ''Dorinda," for to- 
 night's meeting. Without asking the author 
 to describe the lady of whom, or to whom, he 
 had written, he (Stapleton) well knew that it 
 was a being possessing great personal attrai;- 
 tions. This he simply knew by the name. Had 
 the poem been addressed to Maryanna, Je- 
 mima, or any other name of questionable 
 prettiness, he (Stapleton) would undoubtedly 
 have thought that the satirical genius of his 
 friend had been at work. So much for there 
 being nothing in a name ! 
 
 Amid some applause the Butterfly fluttered 
 to his seat. Next came the poem " to Do- 
 rinda," by the Moth, which might have been 
 much better and much worse than it was. 
 After the poem, Benedict Hales, otherwise 
 known as the Adder, read a curious tale of
 
 224 STE YNE VILLE ; 
 
 his own, entitled " The Devil and the Man ; 
 or, Yice and Virtue," in which vice was de- 
 picted as suffering, and virtue glorified^ 
 until the end, when things changed to mce- 
 versa, the moral being obviously m-moral. 
 The opinions on this paper were divided ; 
 it was certainly clever, but the spirit of 
 mockery was carried too far, and though 
 some applauded, the greater part of the as- 
 sembly remained silent regarding the pam- 
 phlet's merits. 
 
 It was with a positive sigh of relief that I 
 watched the last form retreat, and as I turned 
 to de Crespigny he also seemed anxious- 
 to renew the conversation which so abruptly 
 terminated through the inopportune entrance 
 of Stapleton. As we sat down side by side, I 
 could not help noticing how more than hand- 
 some his face looked that night. He wore a 
 coat of dark red, or crimson velvet, simply 
 laced, which suited his complexion to per- 
 fection. Over his shoulders, screening a part 
 of his face, hung his rich, beautiful hair; his 
 profile, indeed, looked so perfect, that I stared 
 blankly wonderingly at him. He broke the 
 silence by asking me again whom the picture
 
 OR, FATED FORTUNES. 225 
 
 represented — the picture fastened to a ribbon 
 round my neck ! 
 
 " Indeed," said I, embarrassed, '' if I do 
 tell you, I can't think what makes the sub- 
 ject of any importance to you." 
 
 " Believe me," he answered, earnestly, " it 
 is not idle curiosity that prompts me to 
 question you on a topic upon which I see 
 you would willingly be silent. But it is 
 of vast importance to me to know who that 
 woman is ? " 
 
 " Of vast importance," I repeated, incre- 
 dulously, shrugging my shoulders (Heaven 
 forgive me my disbelief). " So be it then. 
 Since the face interests you so, I will tell you 
 whose it is, or was. My mother s." 
 
 "You speak very coldly of her if she is 
 dead, Steyneville," said the other gently. 
 
 ** No more than you did when I spoke to 
 you once of your parents and friends." 
 
 " Ah, well ! I have reason, cruel, cruel 
 reason, to speak coldly of my dead parents,'' 
 he replied, in a tone so full of despair that it 
 thrilled me. I felt more interested than ever 
 in this mysterious young fellow as I replied — 
 
 " You have reason to speak coldly of both, 
 
 VOL. I. Q
 
 226 STEYNEVILLE; 
 
 and I have cause to speak coldly of, thank 
 Heaven, only one." 
 
 *' Of her ? " he questioned, earnestly, point- 
 ing to my breast where was concealed the 
 picture. 
 
 " Yes, of her," I replied sadly. 
 
 Then there was another silence. 
 
 " Tell me, Steyneville, will you make a 
 compact with me ? " he asked suddenly. 
 
 Somewhat taken aback by the abruptness 
 of the question, I replied — 
 
 " If I could T would, only that I should 
 like to know beforehand to what I am 
 to engage myself." 
 
 " It is this," he replied. " You have often 
 asked me what secret sorrow harasses my 
 mind. This I faithfully promise to reveal 
 to you if you, in your turn, will tell me all 
 about your antecedents, your whole history in 
 fact, in which I feel wonderfully interested." 
 
 " My history ! " I laughed. " There is no 
 history, I fancy, less romantic than mine; 
 but if you wish to become acquainted with 
 so prosaic a reality I will enlighten you on 
 condition that you tell me yours."
 
 ORy FATED FORTUNES. 227 
 
 *' Certainly, I have promised that ; but 
 first yours, first yours," he repeated in a 
 kind of trembling expectancy. 
 
 And so I commenced from the beginning, 
 telling him about my home, my father, my 
 cousins, and the kindness of Lady Olympia 
 Norton and my Lord Alingdale, of my find- 
 ing out the conspiracy against my benefac- 
 tress, until my arrival at Oxford, where I 
 paused to take breath. 
 
 " Is that all ? " he asked, disappointedly. 
 " But your mother, you have mentioned no 
 word of her yet. Tell me, tell me, what* of 
 her?" 
 
 In my agitation I asked myself why did he 
 look so fixedly at me with his searching eyes 
 as if I had voluntarily cheated him out of 
 something, and he were endeavouring to find 
 the truth. 
 
 " She died in my infancy," I was about to 
 say, when I checked myself in time. It 
 would have been a shameful lie to tell one 
 who was, without doubt, about to disburden 
 his whole heart to me, and so, almost in a 
 whisper, I told him that my mother had
 
 228 STEYNEVILLE; 
 
 wronged both my father and myself, and hid 
 my face in my hands for very shame and 
 sorrow as I related the story to him. 
 
 As the past rose before me, the figure 
 of my dear lost parent, with his melan- 
 choly face and kind, generous heart — for- 
 gotten by the busy world, himself forgetting 
 it, he who would have made such a noble 
 presence there had it not been for the one 
 whom he had loved, and who in return 
 had spoilt and ruined his lifetime — was once 
 again a living, breathing reality before my 
 eyes. Heaven only knows that I am not 
 of an inexorable character ; but there is 
 one injury I cannot pardon, my mother's 
 sin against my father. What, even now 
 I sometimes ask myself, could have in- 
 duced her to yield to any seductions that 
 a man might offer, with such a one as my 
 father by her side ? 
 
 For the present, then, I told that shameful 
 history to the young man with a bowed head 
 and a voice that had almost sunk itself into 
 a whisper. Scarcely had I finished its recital 
 than I became aware that my listener, no 
 longer in his accustomed place, had risen
 
 OR, FATED FORTUNES. 229 
 
 from liis seat, not to stand, but to kneel 
 before me ! 
 
 " Crespignj," I exclaimed, confused at his 
 strange proceeding, " dear Crespigny, why 
 do you kneel, and to me ? What have I said 
 or done. — " 
 
 But the sentence was never finished. For 
 the face turned towards me was lighted up 
 with an expression of hope and joy such as 
 I had never seen depicted there before. 
 Those wonderful eyes of his, wonderful in 
 their colour and earnestness, were bent on 
 mine with an all-devouring look, and his 
 hands were clasped to his breast as if in 
 adoration. Recoiling in astonishment, yet 
 seized at the same time with a vague pre- 
 sentiment of something impending, I asked 
 thim what he did at my feet. 
 
 " Leave me, 0, leave me," he said brokenly. 
 
 " Nay," I returned firmly ; " as I love you, 
 I will not. You are ill and know not what 
 you do. Come, let me assist you to un- 
 dress." 
 
 "If it is to put on my shroud I will," he 
 :answered wildly. " 0, my God, have I 
 found but to loose? — Must my joy be of
 
 230 STETNEVILLE, 
 
 such short duration ? I now see that which 
 in my selfishness I forgot. The grief and 
 double shame, if I disclose — but no,, 
 leave me, leave me, Steyneville — come to 
 me when I am calmer ; it is only a nervous 
 fit you see," he said, with a sad attempt at a 
 smile. 
 
 But I was by his side in a moment, and 
 putting my arm about his shoulder, besought 
 him not to break his promise to me, namely, 
 that of telling me his history in return for 
 my confidence. 
 
 " Do you really wish me to tell you ? " he 
 asked earnestly, yet shrinking, I thought,, 
 somewhat from my touch. "It is a very 
 short one." 
 
 " Never mind, tell me it, and let me, if I 
 can, advise you, being the elder, how best 
 to bear your sorrows, with which I am, as 
 yet, wholly unacquainted. Believe me," I 
 continued, as earnestly as he had spoken, " if 
 I could help you — if I can — I will." 
 
 *' Listen, then. I am the son of parents 
 who were never before the altar. I am the 
 son of parents who not only wronged and 
 violated the laws of Heaven, but who*
 
 OR, FATED FORTUNES. 231 
 
 wronged two living people. I am the off- 
 spring of a woman who was already married 
 to one ere she left him to live with my father. 
 I curse the hour of my birth and they who 
 caused my eyes to see the light, and — yes, 
 shrink from me, shrink from my blighted 
 touch, leave me, despise me, spurn me from 
 you, for you are my kin, and I must hence- 
 forth be the bane of your existence." 
 
 *' Who are you ? who are you ? " I articu- 
 lated hoarsely, half divining the truth, and 
 far from shrinking now from the poor fellow, 
 held him closer in an already fast embrace. 
 
 " As Heaven is above us, as God is a judge 
 between us," he said solemnly, " I am your 
 bastard half brother."
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 What wonder, now the mystery was out, 
 that I resembled him so much, and that we 
 both had felt irresistibly drawn towards each 
 other from the first? Certainly there is 
 more between heaven and earth than 
 Philosophy ever dreams of, or else what 
 Science can explain the mysterious influence 
 and power which impels us to do that which 
 is necessary for the working out of that 
 which some of us denominate Fate, or 
 Destiny. Destiny or no destiny, fate or 
 no fate, I was as surprised as pleased to find 
 my new kinsman, and did all that lay in my 
 power in the shape of persuasives to induce 
 him to be more reconciled to his parentage. 
 But his was a heart so upright in its dealings.
 
 STEYNEVILLE, 233 
 
 ■combined to a mind so clear in its judgment, 
 that my arguments would avail nothing, and 
 save for the affection he bore me (and I liim)> 
 he was the same as ever. We agreed that 
 our secret should live and die with us, and 
 that none should ever be acquainted with our 
 relationship. 
 
 He told me that in two years he would 
 succeed to his father's personal estate, being 
 only nineteen at the time, though looking 
 considerably older. He had remained in 
 ignorance of the facts concerning his birth 
 until the age of sixteen, when his father 
 •confessed his sin to him on his dying bed. 
 The lad, on his part, had, somewhat cruelly 
 I thought, refused to grant the forgiveness 
 for which his parent had prayed. 
 
 ***** 
 
 I had won my degrees, and in a month 
 -was prepared to bid farewell to Oxford for 
 ever. Not without a kind of regret, too, for 
 I had spent many a happy hour within the 
 old walls, besides out of them, by the side of 
 the fair Alice Dale, whose fondness for me 
 was only equalled by ber patience. Patience 
 I say, because it requires a mortal who
 
 2o4 STEYNEVILLE; 
 
 possess no ordinary amount of tliat virtue- 
 to listen graciously to the grandiloquence 
 of a science-stuffed youth. But of late, 
 it must be confessed, I had grown more 
 reticent in my love-making, and though 1 
 loved — or thought I did — this young peasant 
 maiden, it just occurred to me that some un- 
 pleasant consequences might arise from our 
 intimacy, platonic and pure though it was. 
 Two days before my departure I received 
 the following from my half-brother, de 
 Crespigny, handed to me by an extraor- 
 dinarily dusty-looking individual : — 
 
 '' Dear Harold, 
 
 '* Doubtless this letter will cause you 
 some surprise when you see from whom it 
 comes, and where. But I am now on my 
 way to London, having been called away 
 suddenly yesterday forenoon by a message 
 from my lawyer, who says I must be present 
 (and that immediately) at some legal transac- 
 tion which requires my presence and signa- 
 ture. I was unable to bid ye good-bye, old 
 fellow, for when I was arrayed in my travel- 
 ling gear I found you were attending some 
 lecture, and could not be disturbed, wise-
 
 OR, FATED FORTUNES. 235 
 
 acre that you are. I am writing this in an 
 inn — an execrable inn, where they serve you 
 with bad ale, bad food, bad everything, in 
 fact. Everything say I, well, not every- 
 thing, for there's a pretty, bright- eyed 
 damsel in the bar-room, who makes up, I 
 daresay, for that which is wanting in the 
 alimentary line. I have been watching her 
 for the last quarter of an hour. She is sur- 
 rounded by some country bumpkins, whose 
 attempts to compliment the young creature 
 on her good looks are as grotesque and 
 heavy as their respective appearances. Ye 
 Gods ! to listen to 'em, after all the learned 
 lectures I've passed through ! It's like 
 listening to the babble of a mountain stream 
 after hearing the mighty noise of a cataract 
 dinning in one's ears day after day. It's 
 quite rural, refreshing and rustic ; no Latin 
 or Greek quotations from those arrant old 
 humbugs, Horace, Ovid, etc., being sur- 
 reptitiously foisted into the conversation. 
 The fair being is actually blushing beneath 
 the volley of her admirers' fire. Happy 
 girl ! Thrice blessed mortal ! May'st thou 
 never have more cause to blush than now I
 
 236 STEYNEVILLE; 
 
 " But joking apart, Hal, I am sincerely 
 sorry not to have seen you before I left, for 
 Heaven only knows when or where we shall 
 meet again ! You are leaving college in two 
 days, I know ; and perhaps I shall never go 
 back, for all the old fellows have gone or are 
 going. 
 
 '' 0, Harold, Harold, if you only knew 
 how I have grown to love you, my brother, 
 in those two years, you would understand 
 how hard I think it is to leave you. 
 
 " If I remain in England I will see you at 
 Norton Castle ! 
 
 " Being a ward in Chancery, I cannot tell 
 yet how the Lord Chancellor intends to dis- 
 pose of my person. I suppose I shall travel, 
 like the rest of the members of the so-called 
 polite society. The more worldly and heart- 
 less a man is, the more well-bred and genteel 
 he's considered to be. We poor Ante-con- 
 ventionalists would have a hard time of it if 
 we wished to propagate our views and 
 opinions outside the college walls ! 
 
 " But the coach that is to convey me to 
 my destination is waiting impatiently for 
 me.
 
 OR, FATED FORTUNES. 237 
 
 " So good-bye, God bless you, my dear 
 fellow. 
 
 " Yours ever, 
 
 '' V. De Crespigny." 
 
 So he was gone, too. Stapleton, '' the 
 Butterfly," Benedict Hales, " the Adder,*' 
 and Kenneth Twyne, " the Moth," had left 
 together some months ago. The chiefs of 
 the merry band were separated, the society 
 had dissolved, and I alone was left, a solitary 
 remnant of glory past.
 
 CHAPTER XXI. 
 
 Pilled witli expectations of the most delight- 
 ful kind, and my pulse and heart beating 
 with a fevered excitement, I entered the 
 courtyard of Norton Castle at dusk, three 
 days after the preceding. Being admitted 
 by Hilbert, whose kind old eyes filled with 
 joyful tears at the sight of me (at least so he 
 said), I was shown to my room, where I 
 performed such ablutions and changes as 
 were necessary after a day's travel along 
 •dusty roads. 
 
 Having bidden the old servant not to 
 acquaint my lady of my arrival, intending to 
 surprise her myself, I hastened to the room 
 indicated by Hilbert, where, knocking at the 
 door and receiving permission to enter, did so.
 
 STEYNEVILLE, 239 
 
 There were but three people in the room. 
 My lady, looking extremely well, was seated 
 with a book, which she put down on my 
 entrance; the Abbe, and a young lady 
 soberly clad, with great gentle, sweet eyes, 
 whom I had no difficulty in recognising as 
 Mistress Annie Marlande. I walked straight 
 to where my lady sate, and kneeling, took her 
 white hand and kissed it. She, in her turn, 
 drew her hand away with a gesture of sur- 
 prise. She had not recognised me. The 
 Abbe meanwhile looked on me with no less 
 amazement. 
 
 "Ah, Madame," said I sadly, in French, 
 " have you quite forgotten me ? " 
 
 " Who is it ? " asked my lady. *' Can — '' 
 
 "0, aunt! Can't you see who it is? It 
 is Harold," exclaimed Miss Annie, with a 
 sob, and running to me in the old kind 
 fashion, she put her arms about ray neck 
 and kissed me, like the dear sweet girl she 
 was. 
 
 " Mon Dieu, c'est lui ! " gasped the Abbe, 
 gazing at me with open mouth and eyes. 
 
 "Mon gargon, mon brave, beau gar^on," 
 cried my lady heartily. " Heaven forgive
 
 240 STEYNEVILLE; 
 
 me for thus welcoming thee; but how should 
 I recognise thee, since thou hast grown sa 
 wondrous tall." 
 
 " And so hand — " began Annie. 
 
 " Hush ! " laughed my lady, with tears in 
 her eyes. "We will not make him vain, 
 niece, because — Mechant — is this what thou 
 hast learned at college ? " 
 
 This I was a kiss which I permitted my-^ 
 self to give my kind benefactress on the 
 cheek, blushing very much as I did so. 
 
 '' Erubuit, salva res est!" exclaimed tho 
 little divine, seizing my hands in his, and 
 shaking them with great warmth of manner. 
 
 " No more, please, TAbbe," said my lady. 
 " Hath not the poor lad had enough of it ? 
 Let your wisdom be tempered with mercy." 
 
 " I beg your pardon, dear aunt," said 
 Annie, gently, " but hath my cousin had no 
 refreshment ? " turning to me. 
 
 " I have forgotten it. Indeed, I am not 
 hungry, having but two hours ago had some- 
 thing to eat. But where — where is AUie ? " 
 
 Scarcely had the words passed my lips, 
 when the door was opened, and a tall, beauti- 
 ful girl entered, leading a great dog by a
 
 OR, FATED FORTUNES. 241 
 
 chain. This apparition, which made me 
 recoil with astonishment, was followed bj 
 two gentlemen — Colonel Death and my Lord 
 Alingdale, the latter somewhat changed and 
 darker of complexion. 
 
 Almvra Marlande was now about eio^hteen 
 jears of age. Her figure, above the ordinary 
 height, possessed all those graces and per- 
 fections that were at once fascinating and 
 commanding. Super-added to this was a 
 face of extraordinary perfection of feature 
 — as extraordinary in its regularity as in 
 its rarity. Her hair, which had darkened coil- 
 siderably, hung in undulating masses below 
 her waist, of a perfectly natural size, and 
 unlike the nipped and pinched fashion of 
 the day. Her eyes, like her sister's, were 
 large, and of a deep grey colour; but sur- 
 mounted and shaded as they were by long, 
 black eyelashes, appeared infinitely darker 
 and larger. Unlike those of her sister, they 
 flashed and scintillated with all those varying 
 passions and moods which the brilliant, 
 worldly girl was capable of showing. Her 
 nose and mouth, as faultless in their chisel- 
 ling as the other traits of her remarkable 
 
 VOL. I. R
 
 242 STETNEVILLE; 
 
 face, were studies in themselves ; not classic, 
 not merely pretty, but strangely and most 
 originally beautiful — types of themselves, with 
 a good-humoured and half-contemptuous ex- 
 pression, marked by a sliglit elevation of the 
 eyebrows, and a slight downward curving of 
 the lips, wholly consistent with the bold, free 
 bearing of the girl. When I say bold, I do 
 not mean to imply that coarse forwardness 
 so often associated with an absolute absence 
 of reserve, but a perfectly natural, fear- 
 less manner, that was at once the cause 
 of wonder and admiration — in form and 
 feature a rare woman, and to which one 
 would be more disposed to compare than 
 deem comparable. Dressed in a light material, 
 which suited her (as I am sure anything 
 would) admirably, and with her long train 
 caught hastily in the other hand, the folds 
 of which hung in graceful, statuesque folds, 
 Almyra Marlande presented herself, like a 
 Diana newly-returned from the hunt. 
 
 With greater kindness and cordiality than 
 I had expected, miss embraced me, and de- 
 clared her great pleasure in seeing her kins- 
 man again, and teased me about my looks.
 
 OR, FATED FORTUNES, 243 
 
 •Colonel Death and my lord also appeared 
 glad, and congratulated me for having 
 studied so well as to graduate and receive 
 honours. 
 
 When we had all sat down comfortably, as 
 in old times, my lord informed me that he 
 had arrived from his tour, with the Colonel, 
 only a few days before. 
 
 "Yes, Hally; and was it not good of my 
 lord to bring me such a pretty present ? " 
 interrupted Almyra, pointing to her dog, a 
 beautiful St. Bernard. 
 
 " Ay, very kind indeed," said I, glancirfg 
 up abstractedly, and meeting the eyes of the 
 Colonel as I did so. 
 
 There was something in his look that 
 thrilled me. Truly the happiness of man is 
 of short duration. A minute before I could 
 have almost said that my happiness was 
 perfect ; but now a glance had destroyed my 
 joy. Was it jealousy ? Perhaps it was. 
 Yes, I am sure it was ; for as the picture of 
 Alice Dale rose before me, glancing at my 
 cousin, I knew it dwindled away to thin air 
 in comparison, and the image of Almyra 
 filled the vacant spot.
 
 244 STEYNEVTLLE ; 
 
 I was seated between my lady and the 
 Abbe, who seemed absorbed in visionary 
 contemplation of the ceiling, quite unusual 
 to him. Ashamed of the unworthy senti- 
 ment, and struggling hard to free myself of 
 the green-eyed monster who wished to take 
 possession of my heart, I feigned an interest 
 I was far from feeling in the animal, and 
 asked his name. 
 
 " Antony, Marc Antony," returned Almyra,. 
 patting his head. " And you love me, don't 
 you, boy ? " she asked, addressing the 
 animal. 
 
 The dog, in reply, put his head upon his 
 mistress's lap, and replied with his eyes,. 
 "More than my life." 
 
 " Now," continued Almyra, still speaking 
 to him, " if I were to cry, what would you 
 do ? dear, 0, 0, 0— what shall I do ?" 
 And hiding her face in her hands, gave free 
 vent to a well-feigned cry of distress. 
 
 Antony, seeing his mistress in sorrow, 
 raised his head, and began such an unearthly 
 bowling that made some of us stop our ears,, 
 and compelled Almyra to cease her pretence 
 and assume a joyful expression, at which the
 
 OR, FATED FORTUNES. 245 
 
 'dog, to demonstrate his exquisite delight, 
 yelped and gambolled about and around his 
 mistress like a young elephant at play. 
 
 " ISTow, Antony, dear old boy," she said, 
 speaking with her forefinger raised, and in 
 mock gravity, " if someone were to hit me 
 like this " — giving herself a smart slap — 
 *' what would you say, eh ? " 
 
 The creature gave a warning growl, and 
 looked around at the assembled company 
 with a look that seemed to imply, " I'm not 
 vicious by nature, mind you ; but, by Jove ! 
 I'll eat any man alive who attempts to toutjh 
 Jiery 
 
 What wonder, then, that men loved the 
 beautiful Miss Marlande if the very dog 
 adored her ! I forget ; sometimes men act in 
 a way that an honest dog would be ashamed 
 of. 
 
 •'Miss Allie," said my lord, ''you have 
 taught that dog in a fashion highly credit- 
 able to your good taste." 
 
 " Indeed, my lord," returned miss, with 
 a curtsey, half-mocking, half-earnest " is it 
 possible that I could teach even Antony to 
 learn love ? Cousin Harold, pray did you
 
 246 STEYNEVILLE ; 
 
 pass in honours for love, amongst other 
 sciences ? I suppose you call it ' amorology "" 
 at College. Will you teach it me ? " 
 
 " With the greatest pleasure in life," re- 
 turned the young lady's kinsman, with 
 alacrity. " Shall we begin now ? " 
 
 '' Nay," laughed Almyra ; " that is a little 
 too soon. What think you, dear aunt?" 
 And she ran to her benefactress, and, kneel- 
 ing down by her side, kissed her. 
 
 Annie, by the side of the Abbe, looked 
 with smiling lips and sad eyes on the scene. 
 The Colonel and my lord seemed amused. 
 
 " By-the-bye, Hal," said my lord, breaking 
 into a new channel, " is it true what I heard 
 from young Stapleton, that they canonized 
 you at College, as I predicted ? " 
 
 The Abbe woke from his reverie at the 
 word '' canonized," and, crossing himself,, 
 gazed at the ** moqueur," as he called my 
 lord, with a countenance expressive of lively 
 dread — dread that the next syllable, phrase, 
 or sentence uttered by the nobleman would 
 be profane. 
 
 " They used to call me Saint." I said, 
 reluctantly ; " but I can assure you I believe
 
 OR, FATED FORTUNES. 247 
 
 no one is less deserving of the honour, my 
 lord." 
 
 " Saint," laughed Almyra. " Saint Harold, 
 let me worship at thy shrine." 
 
 '' I will if thou'lt be wholly mine," sang 
 Colonel Death, adopting a then popular song 
 for the occasion, assuming at the same time 
 a lachrymal expression supposed to be 
 peculiar to saints only, and with his head 
 twisted sideways and hands most appropri- 
 ately folded. 
 
 " Ha ! " exclaimed my lord, laughingly, 
 ** can Death be a wag and a saint at one 
 and the same time ? Say, Abbe, you appear 
 as if you knew all about it." 
 
 *' I — Heaven forbid ! " returned the divine, 
 hastily. *' Judge not by the appearances, 
 milord ; they are deceptive all ways. Saith 
 an adage well-known — in this case there is 
 no deception — I veut dire — exception." 
 
 "Never mind, M. I'Abbe," said the 
 moqueur's kinswoman ; " we will not cavil 
 about theological questions just now. My 
 lord, be silent ; I want to speak of some- 
 thing important. Now he has returned 
 from College, when shall Harold join his
 
 248 STEYNEVILLE ; 
 
 regiment ? He will pardon me, I know, 
 for mentioning bis departure again so soon 
 after his arrival, for thou knowest I wish 
 thee but well." 
 
 I knew it, and kissed in my gratitude the 
 dear hand of the lady. 
 
 " Madam," interposed Colonel Death *' he 
 shall join his regiment in a month's time, 
 dating from yesterday ; and I vow, ere long, 
 we'll make a general of him." 
 
 With this emphatic declaration, the Colonel 
 rapped his snuff-box, and taking a hearty 
 pinch, passed it round to Lord Alingdale, 
 who laughingly presented it to Almyra. 
 
 " Thank you, my lord," returned that 
 young lady, candidly. " I don't intend to 
 make a dust hole of my nose, if others do." 
 
 " 0, Allie ! " said Annie, with a gentle 
 reproach. 
 
 " There ! I can't say a single word with- 
 out being snubbed. 'Tis too bad, is it not, 
 M. I'Abbe. 0, Allie ! what have I said ? Any- 
 thing atrociously wicked ? Then whip me, 
 and look out," said the girl, merrily, '' for 
 the consequences, while Antony is near." 
 
 " Come, come," said my lady, " no harm's
 
 OR, FATED FORTUNES. 249 
 
 ■done, and the fealty of your favourite there, 
 niece, will not be tried. Colonel, you promised 
 to tell us something of your travels to-night. 
 I am sure Harold, too, unless he feels fatigued, 
 will hear tbem with the same pleasure as 
 we poor women, who have not been so far 
 nor heard so much," with cynical good 
 humour. 
 
 " 0, yes, Colonel George, tell us, please," 
 cried Almyra; " something interesting; don't 
 describe any scenery, because it's so fade, 
 I hate to be told anything about the babble 
 of streams, the plash of the Niagara Falls, 
 nor about mountains, deserts, and plains, etc., 
 or — " 
 
 " In Heaven's name. Miss Allie, what am I 
 to tell you about ? " cries the poor Colonel, 
 helplessly, " if not about things you have 
 already mentioned ? " 
 
 " Easy enough," says miss, coolly ; *' have 
 you not met any men, women, for instance, 
 on your travels worthy of — " 
 
 " Stay, pardon me," said the soldier, with 
 a queer laugh, " I have thought of someone ; 
 one of many whom I might tell you about, if 
 my lord will permit me."
 
 250 STEYNEVILLE ; 
 
 '* Lady or gentleman?" questioned miss^ 
 with a pretty lifting up of the eyebrows. 
 
 " Lady /" emphasised the Colonel, glancing^ 
 at my lord openly, and on me covertly. 
 
 " Tell it, pray," cried Almyra, eagerly. " I 
 know aunt would like to hear it, wouldn't 
 you, darling? and I am sure Annie is dying 
 to know, too, only the little slyboots doesn't 
 show it." 
 
 " Yery well, then, anything to please you. 
 'Tis, then, about a certain fair creature called 
 Madelone. A Moorish girl." 
 
 '' Fair and Moorish ? " cried Almyra, witb 
 a look in the glass that seemed to say, '' Not 
 fairer than I, surely." 
 
 " Nay, nay, that's just where it is," replied 
 the wily soldier-politician. " I cannot help- 
 wondering at Alingdale's taste, after he had 
 seen, never mind whom. But as I was say- 
 ing, this Madelone — " 
 
 " Can't you be quiet. Death?" expostulated 
 my lord, with a slight frown. 
 
 "Not a bit of it. I have a habit — a 
 peculiarly bad one if you wish — but, be it as- 
 it may, a habit of finishing all I have begun.. 
 Madalone was a gloriously dark girl — "
 
 OR, FATED FORTUNES. 251 
 
 Mj lord began to whistle. 
 
 "And," continued the imperturbable Col- 
 onel, noticino^ the impression he had made on 
 one of his listeners at least, " my lord met her 
 — she was selling water at the time, I believe, 
 and in her own native country ; judging by 
 the scarcity of the cleansing fluid, a very 
 dirty native country, too. But that's neither 
 here nor there. Madelone had lovely coal- 
 black eyes, and my lord had a fine fiery 
 heart, and the coals being thrown on the 
 fire — " 
 
 The Colonel paused. The Abbe, with* a 
 pious ejaculation, gathered his skirts about 
 his fat little body, and vanished precipitately. 
 
 This interruption, slight as it was, had the 
 desired effect. The story was never concluded, 
 no single person regretting it. As it was, 
 there remained enough for the philosophic 
 mind to conclude the worst. 
 
 My lady and Annie rose to bid good-night, 
 the latter with flaming cheeks and downcast 
 eyes. Almyra preferred to remain; she was 
 not tired, and if the gentlemen would not be 
 disturbed by her presence, she would rather 
 stay where she was for a while longer.
 
 252 STEYNEVILLE; 
 
 The two ladies then left the room, and 
 Hilbert appeared almost immediately after- 
 wards bearing a tray of bottles and glasses 
 jingling in a most delightful manner. Setting 
 his burden down and placing a glass before 
 each of us, Almyra included, he bowed and 
 departed without another word. As my fair 
 kinswoman expressed it, like " an extra- 
 ordinary silent ghost." 
 
 '' A toast, come," cried the merry Colonel, 
 winking at me and pouring out the rich red 
 wine with a liberal hand, '' my lord will give 
 us one — hey, Alingdale ! Come ! " 
 
 '' Since you know so much of my private 
 affairs," said the other with that peculiar, 
 half-sneering smile entirely his own, '' per- 
 haps you'll give a toast for me, Death." 
 
 " I must beg leave to decline the honour. 
 Perhaps our mutual friend, Steyneville, will 
 oblige ? " 
 
 '' Indeed, not I," I laughed. '' Permit me 
 in my turn to pass the question to you, 
 cousin ? " I said, turning to her. 
 
 "Anything to please you," she replied, 
 half mockingly. " Let us sip to the memory 
 of—"
 
 OR, FATED FORTUNES, 25S 
 
 " Of what ? " asked the Colonel, holding 
 his glass to his lips in expectation. 
 
 "To the memory of my lord's heart ! " cried 
 the girl and taking a tiny sip, she let the 
 goblet drop from her hands. It fell upon the 
 ground and broke into a thousand pieces, the 
 wine staining the cloth and her light dress. 
 
 " Careless of me, is it not ? I wonder who 
 will have more to answer for — I on earth for 
 doing this mischief — or my lord in heaven for 
 his works. I find this spilt wine and broken 
 glass quite allegorical. The broken glass 
 might be my lord's heart — the wine that 
 stains this fine carpet his love. Don't you 
 think so, Colonel George ? " she added with a 
 smile. 
 
 " Faith, missie," said that bluff personage, 
 evidently as astonished as myself at her 
 remarks, " there's a great deal of truth in 
 what you say ! '' 
 
 " Ay ? " asked my lord, cynically, as if he 
 were one the least interested in the conversa- 
 tion. "But come. Miss Allie, don't let us 
 quarrel," he said gaily — miss tossed her head 
 — " for I've a toast to drink too — Mistress 
 Allie, fair and clever, eh ? Ha ! ha ! "
 
 254 STEYNEVILLE, 
 
 " My lord, you do me iDfinite honour. 
 Cousin Harold," she asked proudly, " will 
 you do me the favour to light me down the 
 staircase. I see gentlemen in their cups 
 have very little respect for — " 
 
 " In their hic-coughs, you mean, miss,'' 
 said the Colonel, taking the proffered hand 
 and kissing it affectionately. *' Grood night.'* 
 The honest soldier loved and honoured this 
 fair girl as if she had been his daughter. 
 
 But my lord would not agree to Allie's 
 proposition concerning my lighting her down 
 the dark staircase, and seizing a taper, he 
 declared it to be his firm intention of accom- 
 panyiug Almyra himself, or perish in the 
 attempt — all with marvellous good humour. 
 
 When at length miss consented to the 
 nobleman's entreaties and both left the apart- 
 ment, my kinswoman perfectly reconciled to 
 her fate (if such it could be called), the 
 Colonel turned to me, and said in a whisper 
 these remarkable words — 
 
 "Don't be afraid; it's nothing. But if 
 you have no objection, young' un, I'll visit 
 you in your own room to-night."
 
 CHAPTER XXII. 
 
 It was past one o'clock when we separated, 
 and I had scarcely unfastened the buttons of 
 my coat preparatory to taking it off when 
 Colonel Death, true to his promise, entered 
 my room — the same one that I had tenanted 
 years ago when I first made my appear- 
 ance at Norton Castle. It was much the 
 same as ever, and save that to my utter 
 astonishment and delight to find a picture 
 done in water colours of my dear father on the 
 mantel-piece, everything was unchanged. 
 Imagining it to be some kindly thought of 
 my lady, I determined to thank her the next 
 morning for it. Meanwhile the Colonel had 
 literally plumped on my bed and paused to 
 take breath ; for though like his former self
 
 25G STEYNEVILLE; 
 
 in all other respects, lie had grown a little 
 more corpulent. 
 
 " Now," said I, taking a chair, and seating^ 
 myself near him, " what is there of such 
 importance jou have to tell me ? I know it 
 is important, or else. Colonel — " 
 
 " I never told you I was going to say any- 
 thing particular," he interrupted. 
 
 " No, but your eye did," I answered, 
 smiling. 
 
 "By Jove, young'un, I forget quite if it 
 did. But, by-the-bye, you don't mind my 
 addressing you like that, do you ? " he asked 
 simply; " I'm an old soldier, ye know, and 
 don't stand much on ceremonies." 
 
 Having assured him I rather liked to be 
 dubbed " young'un " than otherwise, he went 
 on to explain the cause of his visit. " Mind 
 you," he said earnestly, pursing up his lips as 
 was his wont, '' I won't tell you before you 
 promise me faithfully that you'll not flare 
 up, get into a rage, or any other ridiculous 
 thing — otherwise I swear I shan't tell you." 
 
 Promising him rather impatiently that I 
 intended to take matters, whatever they were, 
 in an uncomhustible manner, he asked me i£
 
 OR, FATED FORTUNES. 257 
 
 I could guess of what or whom he was about 
 to speak. 
 
 " Of my kinswoman ? " said I. 
 
 " Anyone else ? " he hazarded, looking at 
 me askew. 
 
 " Not — not my lord ? " I gasped, staring at 
 him with a quaking heart. 
 
 " Yes, of Alingdale," he returned, sadly. 
 " What," he asked, placing his great hand 
 gently on my shoulder, " poor lad, art thou 
 too smitten with her ? Take heed ; the root 
 of thy love is but young in thy heart as yet, 
 and thou may'st destroy it ere it gets 
 strength and power to torment thee." 
 
 Young in my heart ! Young ! it seemed 
 now as if I had known but that love for 
 years. Ill weeds and love grow apace. 
 
 '' You mistake me," I stammered ; " pray 
 tell me what you have to say of Almyra and 
 — and — " Dear, dear, how hard that name 
 was to pronounce, in the same breath as 
 the other. 
 
 " Alingdale," he said. " Had I not better 
 tell it you to-morrow, for on my faith it is 
 nothing. Besides, you look fatigued ! " 
 
 VOL. I. s
 
 258 STEYNEVILLE; 
 
 " No ; now, now, I am not tired ; tell me 
 now," I asked eagerly. 
 
 " Well, since you will have it, I am at 
 your service. I warn you beforehand that 
 I am not good at explaining matters and 
 telling tales. To begin with," he said, 
 abruptly, " do you know why Alingdale went 
 on the tour, and who made him go — " 
 
 "No." 
 
 " Well, 1 made him go, so he shouldn't see 
 so much of Miss Allie." 
 
 I started as if I had been shot. 
 
 *' Yes, and between you and me, my lad," 
 he continued, feigning not to notice my 
 wincing, " I think I managed very well." 
 
 " But," said I, " you surely do not believe 
 that my lord, knowing her from a child, and, 
 I think, still considering her as such — " 
 
 " Believe or not believe," interrupts the 
 Colonel, bluntly, " I don't think miss is a 
 baby at nineteen, mind you. Tve a great liking 
 for her ever since that night when she gave me 
 all those jewels, thinking I was so very poor. 
 Do you remember? Well, ever since that 
 time I vow I'd rather have my right hand 
 cut off than any harm should come to her, as
 
 OR, FATED FORTUNES. 259 
 
 I think there would if that devil, Alingdale, 
 were always dancing near in attendance on 
 her." 
 
 It must not be thought that the Colonel 
 disliked my lordj for on the contrary he 
 entertained the liveliest regard for him. 
 
 " As he is not the sort of man I should 
 like to see about my daughter had it pleased 
 Heaven to send me one," he added, with a 
 -sigh, "I have always kept strict watch on 
 'em both. Just after you left for college, a 
 young fellow, Chapman, as rich and honest as 
 you could wish, began to make love to your 
 cousin. She seemed pleased enough, in her 
 way you know, making hi in a regular fetch- 
 and-carry spaniel, and patting him now and 
 then for his indefatigable patience, and I 
 think would have accepted him at last. But 
 then straightway my lord comes from White's 
 with a sneer and a smile on his face at the 
 same time, and begins to run poor Chapman 
 down to Miss Allie, not backbiting him, you 
 know, but making fun of him. Miss, as I 
 €xpected, listened. I happened to be in the 
 same room one day with the young lady after 
 she had had a quarrel with the young fellow.
 
 260 STETNEVILLE; 
 
 over notMng I can assure you, Hal, and her 
 fault entirely. 
 
 "Presently," continued the Colonel, "in 
 walks the lover with an enormous bouquet 
 in his hand, and, not noticing me, stalks ta 
 Mistress Allie, kneels, and begging to be for- 
 given, presents her with the flowers. That 
 she had been a pupil of Alingdale's one could 
 see immediately, for on this, instead of saying 
 'Never mind, I was to blame as well,' or some- 
 thing to that effect, she rises from her chair 
 as haughty as only she can be, and bids him 
 begone and not come near her any more. 
 This was devihsh hard treatment, and so I 
 told her at the time, and the poor young chap, 
 loving her as he did for all that, seeing me,, 
 begged me to intercede for him, almost sob- 
 bing in his passionate affection for the cruel 
 girl, who, I swear," cried the Colonel, warm- 
 ing with his subject, " wasn't worthy of it. 
 Deaf to all entreaties and to all appeals she- 
 remained firm in her heartlessness, and so 
 Chapman left her, crying like a baby as he 
 went. Would you believe it that I can't help 
 admiring her still for all that ? " demanded 
 the Colonel in conclusion, naively.
 
 OR, FATED FORTUNES. 261 
 
 " She wrote to me," I said, '' that Lord 
 Alingdale interfered in the case of a certain 
 Mr. Chapman, whose addresses were ob- 
 noxious to her." 
 
 " Faith, man ! that was the hr other ^ not the 
 one I'm speaking of," he returned, taking a 
 large pinch of snuff, and looking at me 
 
 " Is that all the evidence you have. Colonel 
 Death, of associating the young girl with a 
 man almost twice her age ? " 
 
 "Ay — almost, not qiiite\ he's about thirty- 
 five I should say." 
 
 "And in six more years, comparatively 
 speaking, will be an old man," I resumed, 
 thoughtfully. 
 
 " Six more years ! " exclaimed the Colonel, 
 stopping in his amazement to put another 
 pinch to its destination. " Gad, you drive 
 very fast; a lot may happen in so many 
 years, I can tell ye. Besides, speaking of 
 evidence, I fancy I could give you more than 
 you cared to hear. Why, bless you, times 
 out of number I have interrupted 'em, and 
 pretended to come in unawares, when all the 
 while IVe been prowling about like an old
 
 262 STEYNEVILLE; 
 
 hound on the track. I don't like it, to tell 
 the plain honest truth, for it seems like 
 adopting that d — d old hyprocrite Loyola's 
 motto. Something about not caring for the 
 means for the effect." 
 
 " What does my lady say ? Does she not 
 see — " I began. 
 
 *' See!" echoed the other; '' do you think 
 now, supposing even if she did see anything 
 as you call it, and were disposed to censure 
 miss, that that fair diplomat couldn't settle 
 it, and make matters all right with a kiss ? 
 Now, I wish to call your attention to these 
 simple facts. My Lord Alingdale is not a 
 marrying man, and judging by his reputation, 
 not a very scrupulous one either, where the 
 lovely sex are concerned, I mean. Not 
 that I believe he would behave as he usually 
 does in this particular instance, for I'm 
 now rather inclined to be biased by your 
 opinions, that he and they all, my lady 
 included, look upon missie as little more than 
 a child. If they don't, they spoil her as 
 such," he added, simply. 
 
 "And you?" 
 
 " 0, I do as others do," he replied, " as
 
 OR, FATED FORTUNES. 263 
 
 a matter of course. Perhaps you will think 
 I have mixed myself too much in a matter 
 that does not concern me, Hal, and that I 
 have made a mountain of a molehill. But 
 remember this, there is very little bad afoot 
 in this world that will not grow considerably 
 worse, if 'tis not stopped in time." 
 
 I thanked him earnestly, perhaps too 
 earnestly, to be entirely disinterested, but I 
 meant it to be true, and had no thought of 
 self, at the time at all events, although I 
 must confess afterwards the thought occurred 
 to me that the honest Colonel regarded jne 
 with some suspicion. 
 
 Then the kind gentleman left me to my 
 slumbers, which were of a very restless 
 kind, being continually haunted by a dream 
 which represented Mistress Almyra Marlande 
 eloping with my lord and the unfortunate, 
 jilted Mr. Chapman at the same time, in a 
 chaise with a dozen spirited horses, and I in 
 hot pursuit on a broken-down nag.
 
 CHAPTER XXIII. 
 
 " Bt-the-bye, Alingdale," remarked the 
 Colonel, tlie next day when we were all 
 seated at dinner, '* what the deu — I beg your 
 pardon, I'm sure," he said turning to the 
 ladies, " the slip of my tongue was — " 
 
 " 0, it's of no consequence, Colonel 
 George," laughingly said Almyra, who was 
 seated between my lord and myself, '' I for 
 one will excuse you. Auntie, dear," she 
 cried, appealing to my lady, '* the Colonel 
 may say ' deuce ' if he likes, mayn't he ? " 
 
 " I've nothing against it, I'm sure," said 
 the lady addressed, good-humouredly; " but 
 Annie and M. I'Abbe — " 
 
 "Yes, I forget them, and then there's
 
 STEYNEVILLE. 265 
 
 ■>cousin, too, who, coming from college, will 
 be quite shocked,'' continued the girl, with a 
 comical look. " Of course, it's my usual 
 luck, I can't say a single word without scan- 
 dalizing somebody. Look at Anne ! she's 
 got as red as my rose, and when M. 1' Abbe's 
 eyes will come down to their proper places 
 heaven only knows. Dear, oh dear, but I've 
 interrupted you. Colonel George; please go 
 -on." 
 
 '' I declare I forget what I was about to 
 say," returned that gentleman, laughing. 
 
 " You know something concerning mj 
 lord," suggested Allie, wickedly, " perhaps 
 about Miss Madelone, wasn't that her name, 
 her of whom you spoke yesterday?" 
 
 " Ah ! ah ! yes," replied the soldier, " I 
 Tecollect now. No, it's nothing to do with 
 iher. I was going to ask you, Alingdale, 
 what on earth induced you to go abroad so 
 ■early this morning ? I can assign no reason 
 for it, unless" — here he paused with an 
 arch smile, but I noticed he looked furtively 
 at my kinswoman, who was all attention, 
 and had even laid down her knife and fork 
 ;to lose no word of the conversation.
 
 266 STEYNEVILLE ; 
 
 My Lord Alingdale shrugged his shoulders 
 with a deprecating smile, 
 
 " 0, you slyboots," continued his friend,, 
 shaking his forefinger at him, '' didn't I see 
 you leave the Castle at six o'clock this morn- 
 ing — you, who never rise till midday, or al- 
 most that, at any rate. By Jupiter ! " he 
 said, empbatically, '' the young lady that can 
 make my lord perform such wonders must be 
 a wonder herself, and no mistake. Is it the 
 innkeeper's pretty daughter Blanche? or 
 parson Turner's niece ? There's a good deal 
 too much quakerism about her to my idea, 
 but there's no accounting for taste, and so if 
 you've chosen either of these fair damsels for 
 your early adoration, why, I commend your 
 good fortune, that's all." 
 
 "Death, what an ass you are ! " cried my 
 lord, somewhat peevishly. " Can't I stir out 
 without being thought to dance attendance 
 on some one or other ?" 
 
 ''At that time in the day? And you? 
 Certainly not ! " said the other, decidedly. 
 *' Come, now, say you were not ' dancing 
 attendance,' as you call it, what were you- 
 doing, or about to do ? "
 
 OR, FATED FORTUNES. 267 
 
 My lord shifted uneasily in his chair, and 
 tapped the ground impatiently with his foot. 
 At last he said — 
 
 "You need not trouble to catechise me 
 further ; I refuse to tell you." 
 
 " Yery well," returned the Colonel, in a 
 tone of moral certainty ; " you refuse to say 
 what you were about to do, or see, or work. 
 Good ; then what I deduce for this is — " 
 
 " Deduce what you will, and leave me 
 alone," replied my lord, testily. 
 
 " II y a beacoup de ' deuces,' " remarked 
 the Abbe, who had hitherto eaten in silenee, 
 ** dans cette conversation la. Of what does it 
 agitate itself? " 
 
 " Only my lord up to his usual pranks 
 again. Abbe," cried the Colonel, with irre- 
 sistible good humour. '' This morning, think 
 only, at six o'clock, he rises, mounts his horse, 
 and goes to meet his beloved.'' 
 
 I noticed that Hilbert behaved strangely 
 during the Colonel's banter. Once I felt 
 certain he was about to speak, when my 
 lord raised his eyes and shook his head at 
 him. Then I felt certain that the old ser- 
 vant only held his tongue by a great effort.
 
 268 STEYNEVILLE. 
 
 Long after it transpired that the nobleman 
 had that morning been on a visit to his 
 family, bringing them money, of which they 
 greatly stood in need, through the extrava- 
 gance of the eldest son. But the truth was 
 only known long, long after the act. 
 
 If the Colonel's object of telling the story 
 was to anger the haughty Almyra's heart 
 against his friend, his wish was certainly at- 
 tained, for when the young lady left the room 
 she swept past my lord, who held the door, 
 with her head high, and such an expression 
 of scorn that, as the Colonel said, " Aling- 
 dale himself could not have surpassed it." 
 Two glowing red spots burnt on her cheeks, 
 and her eyes sparkled with a wonderful 
 brightness. Ah, yes, she was growing a 
 woman, I said to myself with a sigh, whilst a 
 pang shot through my heart. A woman who 
 was capable (but what one is not?) of jealousy, 
 passion, and love. 
 
 '' Ha ! ha ! ha ! " chuckled the Colonel over 
 his wine, thinking of his late triumph. 
 
 ''Hr-r-r-r-r," snored the Abbe in his chair, 
 making a most unspellable noise through his 
 •olfactory organ.
 
 OR, FATED FORTUNES. 269^ 
 
 Puff ! puff ! puff ! smoked my lord, liis 
 handsome face appearing through the cloud 
 of smoke like that of the geni in the fairy 
 tale. 
 
 And I remained silent and thoughtful for 
 some time, during which my lord left the 
 room, and the Colonel followed the Abbe's 
 lively example of falling asleep. Recollecting 
 the evening might be spent in a pleasanter 
 way, and having a grateful duty to discharge, 
 namely, that of thanking my lady for my dear 
 father's picture, I hastened to them, and found 
 them engaged in a kind of what seemed to me, 
 play, curious in the extreme. The chief actors 
 were my lady and Almyra ; the former was 
 seated on a raised chair, and Almyra making 
 a grand curtsey, took her hand and kissed it. 
 
 " Bravo ! " cried my lord, approvingly,, 
 "that's a decided improvement on the last 
 one. Miss Allie." 
 
 " Indeed ! " cries miss, sneeringly, with a 
 heightening of the beautiful brows; '' how 
 happy I am to have won your approbation, 
 my lord ! " 
 
 " May I ask," said I, turning to my kind 
 mistress, " what this new game is called ? "
 
 270 STE YNE VILLE ; 
 
 " It is called the presentation," replied the 
 lady, smiling. " Now, are you any wiser ? " 
 
 "Nay," I replied, smiling, " I'm not; is it 
 a secret ? " 
 
 " 0, no, cousin," interposed Allie ; " the 
 day after to-morrow I'm to be presented to 
 her Most Serene and Gracious Majesty Queen 
 Anne, and her most noble consort Prince 
 Oeorge of Denmark. I'm practising now, 
 because, entre nous, it won't do to be awk- 
 ward. I have no mind, certainly," said the 
 young lady, proudly, ''to be laughed at." 
 
 " Laughed at!" I exclaimed, with involun- 
 tary astonishment — " you, cousin ? " 
 
 " 0, you courtier, you," laughed the girl, 
 shaking a forefinger at me merrily, ''and so 
 solemn with it, too ! isn't he, auntie dear, 
 just for the world as if he meant it,** 
 
 " And so I do mean it," I returned, 
 honestly. 
 
 " 0, cousin, cousin, what a blessed saint 
 you are," says miss. " What a delightful 
 world ours would be if everyone meant only 
 half they said, and said only half they meant." 
 
 " I beg leave to disagree with you," said 
 my lady's kinsman, indolently ; " this world
 
 OB, FATED FORTUNES. 271 
 
 •would be a most savage place if men said 
 whatever they thought. No, no ; we will not 
 be savages — we are civilized — and liars. For 
 you must know first that Civilization and 
 Truth are enemies who never agree ! " 
 
 " I do not follow you, my lord," cried 
 AUie; "of course you know jDetter than 
 a poor unsophisticated girl, but if civiliza- 
 tion is falsehood, which I doubt, I far prefer 
 it to being a truthful barbarian, painted all 
 over with hideous dyes, and clothed in skins 
 and feathers. Fancy our Saint," said the 
 girl, merrily, *' in war-paint, brandishing- a 
 tomahawk over his head, and executing a 
 war-dance, and uttering wild whoops." 
 
 Annie, my lady, and her kinsman all laughed 
 at this, but though I smiled my heart was much 
 disturbed. My dying father had made me 
 guardian of my two cousins. Was I fulfilling 
 the holy trust imposed upon me ? Was it right 
 that this fair, portionless girl should take a 
 place in the world where " money, family con- 
 nections," are more estimated than virtue or 
 beauty? Virtue is very agreeable with so 
 many thousands a year — beauty, with so 
 many hundreds— but to have no hundreds !
 
 ^72 STEYNEVILLE; 
 
 ' — and of no particular family ! Perhaps 
 my pride revolted somewhat, too, with the- 
 thought of being so indebted to anyone, 
 even to my dear kind Lady Norton. How 
 could I alter it? Although my two kins- 
 women were now old enough to make 
 Steyneville ^ a home again, could I even 
 attempt to coop the brilliant Almyra in 
 so dark a cage ? The gay world was her 
 element, and she who became it so well 
 would pine in the dull domains of the old 
 place which I loved for its associations ; and 
 so I gave up the idea of a change, with a- 
 sigh, and became aware of a somewhat start- 
 ling incident. 
 
 My lady, sitting as her majesty, had asked 
 my lord to represent her royal consort. This 
 that nobleman did with a smile. Almyra, 
 approaching to the foot of the mimic throne, 
 bent. My lady, raising her, kissed her. Then 
 Almyra curtsied to the prince (my lord). He ■ 
 taking her hand and raising her, performed 
 the same salutation on her fairy cheek with 
 his lips. Almyra, her face and neck dyed 
 crimson with anger, stamped her foot, and' 
 was about to hasten from the room in great
 
 OR, FATED FORTUNES. 273 
 
 heat ; nor could I blame her, but to this mj 
 lord would not consent. Hurrying after 
 her, and anticipating her desire, he planted his 
 back against the door and stood firmly against 
 it. 
 
 " How dare you ? Let me pass, I tell you, 
 let me go ! " she cried now, white with 
 passion, and stamping her foot imperiously on 
 the ground. 
 
 " I beg your pardon — indeed I do ! " said 
 the other, with mock humility ; " I really did 
 not know you would be so angry — besides it 
 was too tempting." 
 
 " You treat me like a child," replied my 
 cousin, sobbing ; " I do not know what I have 
 done to merit this utter disrespect " — my 
 lord stared; the truth was dawning upon 
 him at last — she was no more a child, and I 
 think the knowledge did not displease him — 
 " if you have none for my sex in general, 
 like the ladies of whom Colonel George 
 spoke — " 
 
 " D — n Colonel George ! " muttered the for 
 once astonished gentleman. 
 
 " At least," continued the proud Miss Mar- 
 lande, with a tear of anger in each eye, mak- 
 
 VOL. I. T
 
 274 STEYNEVILLE. 
 
 ing her even more beautiful ; " have a little 
 respect for one who has never given you cause 
 to behave otherwise than an honourable man 
 should behave to a woman. Yes, my lord, 
 a woman : although, no doubt, unlike the 
 strange ones of your acquaintance. Let me 
 pass, I tell you, my lord ! " 
 
 And once more that night she passed him 
 with a look of angry scorn. But Heaven 
 only knows the true sentiments of that strange 
 heart. For myself, I believe that her indig- 
 nation was more aroused by that which the 
 Colonel had said than any real rancour stirred 
 by the kiss. 
 
 About my father s portrait I soon learned 
 the truth. My lady, when I expressed my 
 heartfelt gratitude for the picture, looked 
 surprised, and assured me she knew nothing 
 concerning it. Ultimately my gentle kins- 
 woman Anne confessed to having painted it 
 herself for her cousin, who kissed her dear 
 hand with a brotherly affection.
 
 CHAPTER XXIV. 
 
 After the outburst of passion on Allie's part 
 my lord grew more deferential in his be- 
 haviour to her. Kot that Miss Marlande was 
 reconciled to him — not in the least. Since 
 Colonel Death had taxed the nobleman on his 
 intrio^ues with the rector's niece and the inn- 
 keeper's pretty daughter, the young lady 
 coldly avoided him now as much as she had 
 sought him before. When he addressed her 
 there was a strange mixture of homage and 
 mockery in his tones. Of course it was 
 "Miss Marlande" now, no longer "Miss AUie." 
 But she, although noticing his changed 
 manner, still maintained a haughty exterior. 
 I was sitting in the smaller drawing-room, 
 writing to de Crespigny, who was in Egypt,
 
 276 STEYNEVILLE; 
 
 telling him of my prospects, when I heard 
 voices in the great sah)nj which was divided 
 from where I was by two thin muslin curtains. 
 Not washing to play eavesdropper I rose to 
 enter the other room, but as I drew aside the 
 curtains I stood rooted to the spot. What 
 was it ? Nothing terrifying to any heart 
 but a jealous one like mine. Only my lord 
 and my cousin. Only my cousin and my 
 lord. 0, how my heart sunk again within me, 
 for I loved her so passionately, so fondly, and 
 Heaven forgive me, so selfishly. I have since 
 tried to analyse the composition of the pre- 
 dominant feeling at my heart's core at that 
 time, and however foolish it may appear 
 written, it is the honest truth. I distinctly 
 remember a revulsion, a spasmodic shake, and 
 then a most prosaic sickness, I wish a sceptic 
 who, disbelieving this assertion, would fall in 
 love himself, and see how /^e felt if his beloved 
 seemed rather to court than otherwise the 
 advances of another gallant. 
 
 So Harold Steyneville stood rooted to 
 the spot without wish or power to move, and 
 this is the conversation he heard — 
 
 Almyra (coldly) — "You say you have
 
 OR, FATED FORTUNES. 277 
 
 looked for me all over the castle, my lord — 
 and now, having found me, may I ask what 
 you wish of me ? Come here, Marky, old 
 boy, and kiss your little mistress.'' 
 
 My- lord — *' 0, how I wish I were that 
 dog ! " 
 
 Almyra (candidly) — " Perhaps it would 
 have been better if you had — Is that all 
 you have to say ? " rising. 
 
 My lord (taken aback) — '' Ka — a — y, 
 certainly not — do not be so angry about 
 that absurd act of mine the other day, for 
 I am indeed sorry about it. I came here'to 
 ask you to forgive me — before I go away." 
 
 Almyra (surprised and disturbed) — 
 " Away ! Are you going away, my lord — 
 and for long ? *' 
 
 My lord (gently) — *'Nay, not for long, 
 or far, Miss Marlande. You are sorry for 
 that ? Ah, I can see how you regret that I 
 am not going abroad." 
 
 Almyra (coldly) — '' Indeed, my lord, it 
 does not matter to me one way or the 
 other." 
 
 My lord (with something of a sigh) — 
 '' Well, Miss Marlande, I have come to say
 
 278 STEYNEVILLE; 
 
 goocl-bye; will you give me your liaud aud 
 say ' T forgive you ? ' " 
 
 Almyra (passionately) — " I tell you, my 
 lord, you are always mocking at me, even 
 now — and as 1 am not a child, I will tell 
 you plainly that I do not believe you wish 
 forgiveness or pardon, but that " — 
 
 My lord (with a laugh) — '' Believe what 
 you will, miss. Thoughts are free, but I 
 assure you " (more serious) *' I should like 
 to hear you say ' Good-bye, I forgive you.' " 
 
 Almyra (curtseying, biting her lips and 
 turning very white) — " Good-bye, my lord, 
 and if it makes your conscience any easier, 
 I tell you I forgive you." 
 
 My lord— *' And won't you even give me 
 your hand on it ? You tell me that you 
 pardon me ; now it is you who are mocking. 
 You will not even give your hand to me who 
 has known you from a little, little child ; who 
 has seen you grow, and who has nursed 
 you in his arms. Yes, I remember years 
 ago, when Steyneville's father died, that the 
 night of his death, your nurse could not find 
 you anywhere. At last I volunteered to 
 look for you — "
 
 OR, FATED FORTUNES. 279 
 
 Almyra (with earnest eyes and bated 
 breath) — '' And you found me — where ? I 
 do not remember it." 
 
 My lord — " No, because you had fallen 
 asleep by your good protector's side, and did 
 not see me standing looking on the dead and 
 living, the old man and the fair child sleep- 
 ing their different slumbers together. I 
 took you in my arms, and kissed your face, 
 for your eyelashes were wet with tears. I 
 felt, I must own, for the first time moved in 
 my life. Your head was pillowed against my 
 shoulder as I carried you downstairs arid 
 consigned you safely to the custody of your 
 old nurse. For that, for old times' sake, and 
 for finding you I deserve your kindness now. 
 Do you not think so, Miss Marlande ? " 
 
 Almyra (passionately) — '' 0, why did you 
 not let me stay by my dear uncle's side ? I 
 was better there, I was better there, and 
 better there still had I died with him ! " 
 
 Almyra Marlande, through the lapse of 
 years I think it would have been better so 
 too. 
 
 '' My lord (gently) — '' Is this the beau- 
 tiful, the brilliant Miss Marlande, to wish
 
 280 STETNEVILLE; 
 
 herself dead, in the bloom of her youth and 
 beauty ? Are you unhappy then ? " 
 
 Almyra [(wiping away a tear) — " No, no ; 
 everyone is very, very kind to me ; kinder 
 than I deserve, I know ; so pray do not let 
 anyone know that I — that I said anything to 
 that effect." 
 
 My lord (looking at her fixedly) — " It 
 shall be a secret between you and myself 
 alone.'' 
 
 Almyra (returning the look, though blush- 
 ing somewhat) — " Yes, a secret known only 
 to three." 
 
 My lord — '' Humph ! Three ' I only know 
 two. Are you going to tell a third ? " 
 
 Almyra (wonderingly) — " 0, no, but 
 Marky's here — and he has heard too." 
 
 My lord (as if much relieved) — *^ 0, I 
 understand." 
 
 Almyra (breaking a pause) — ''Are you 
 not coming with us ? I mean with my aunt, 
 Lady Mary Wortley and myself to Court ? 
 I thought you were ? " 
 
 My lord — '' So I intended, but being com- 
 pelled to stay some few days in town to 
 arrange some matters for Hal, concerning
 
 OR, FATED FORTUNES. 281 
 
 his appointment, I shall be unavoidably 
 detained." 
 
 Almyra (disappointedly) — " And cannot 
 you come at all ? " 
 
 My lord (slyly) — " I certainly do not wish 
 to accuse a certain fair lady of vanity, but, 
 entre nous, I myself feel terribly at not being 
 able to see the same lady in her rohe de cour.'* 
 
 Almyra (laughingly and with admirable 
 frankness) — " I see you have found me out. 
 Yes, I did want everyone to see me who 
 could, and — " 
 
 My lord (taking her hand) — "One moment. 
 Miss Marlande ; do you not think I deserve 
 some indemnity for not being gratified with 
 a look at the most — " 
 
 Almyra (composedly) — " I know what's 
 coming now — the most * beautiful,' or ' lovely,' 
 or ' gracious,' or some such word. Please 
 spare me, for those are such stale and hack- 
 neyed phrases." 
 
 My lord (smiling) — " Then it is simply 
 because beauty is hackneyed and stale her- 
 self.'' 
 
 Almyra — " The premises of your logic, my 
 lord, are wrong." 
 
 VOL. I. w
 
 282 S TEYNE VILLE ; 
 
 My lord (gallantly) — " If Ulysses had had 
 such a mentor, I verily believe he would 
 never have gone in search of a father, Miss 
 Marlande." 
 
 Almyra — " A pity he didn't, say I. In 
 that case Mr. Pope wouldn't have translated, 
 or inflicted a translation of the original 
 Ulysses on the public." 
 
 My lord — " And Homer would never have 
 written about him." 
 
 Almyra — " Which would have been better 
 still." 
 
 A pause. 
 
 My lord (holding out his hand) — " I am 
 pardoned then ? " 
 
 Pardoned ! for such a trifling thing — with 
 his darkly handsome face wrought into an 
 expression of half entreaty and command 
 — I wonder who could have resisted him — 
 no woman, alas ! — and not even Almyra, who 
 then gave him her hand, on which he im- 
 printed a light kiss. So much for the 
 quarrel. Two minutes after Colonel Death 
 appeared, bearing the tidings that the valises 
 were packed, and the coach ready for start- 
 ing. Half an hour after the foregoing the
 
 OR, FATED FORTUNES, 283 
 
 two departed. Almyra stuck a flower in 
 each of the gentlemen's coats before they 
 left, and as Colonel Death turned his back, 
 mj lord, thinking none were looking on, 
 softly kissed the wavy hair on the girl's head 
 as she leaned over his button-hole. I saw 
 the salute, and I marked the flush that spread 
 over miss's face after it; but this time it 
 was not a blush of resentment, unhappily 
 for my poor love. 
 
 END OF VOL. I,
 
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