^-vt^^- L I B R.AR.Y OF THL UNIVERSITY or ILLINOIS The person charging this material is re- sponsible for its return to the library from which it was withdrawn on or before the Latest Date stamped below. Theft, mutilation, and underlining of books are reasons for disciplinary action and may result in dismissal from the University. To renew call Telephone Center, 333-8400 UNIVERSITY OF ILLINOIS LIBRARY AT URBANA-CHAMPAIGN L161— O-1096 JILTED! OK, MY UNCLE'S SCHEME. JILTED! OR, MY UNCLE'S SCHEME S' £ioi)tl in ^hm ^ois. VOL. I. Wonton : SA^IPSON LOW, IVIARSTO^^ LOW, & SEAELE, CROWN BUILDINGS, FLEET STREET. 1875. {_All Rights Reserved,.'] CHARLES T)ICKETTS AND EVANS, CRTSTAI, PALACE PRESS. v./ CONTENTS. PAGE CHAPTEE 1 1 CHAPTER II 31 CHAPTER III 54 CHAPTER TV 90 CHAPTER V 121 CHAPTER VI 140 CHAPTER YII 160 CHAPTER ^^11 199 Digitized by the Internet Archive in 2010 with funding from University of Illinois Urbana-Champaign http://www.archive.org/details/jiltedormyuncles01russ JILTED! OR, MY UNCLE'S SCHEME. MY UNCLE'S SCHEME. CHAPTER I. " It has been found hard to describe man by an adequate definition. Some philosophers have called him a reasonable animal ; but others have considered reason as a quality of which many creatures partake. He has been termed likewise a laughing animal ; but it is said that some men have never laughed. Perhaps man may be more properly distinguished as an idle animal." — Dr. Johnson. My father was a major in the army who, at the time this story begins, had lived in liOngueville-sur-mer for fifteen years, to which place he had come, after my mother's death, bringing me with him. I was then YOL. I. B ]\IY UNCLE'S SCHEME. seven years old. He put me to a good school in the neighbourhood, at which I remained until I was sixteen ; and was then let free. Considering myself a man, I worked hard to grow a mustache, in which I very ignominiously failed ; for it was not until I was one-and-twenty that nature condescended to favour me with that very elegant and martial decoration. I also took to colouring meerschaum pipes, in which art, before I was nineteen, I was considered by my companions to excel, though I did not succeed in establishing my reputation in that line until I had dealt such an injury to my nervous system as I fear I shall never recover. I also became, before long, an expert hand at billiards, though up to the last Bob Le Marchmont could always give me twenty points and beat me comfortably. But I MY UNCLE'S SCHEME. was his better at wliist, and was indeed a matcli for several grave old gentlemen who were members of our English Club in the Eue des Chiens. My father was a remarkably handsome man, with a nose like Lord Chatham's and with whiskers which I would liken to two solid bastions of hair, richly dyed and inexorably curled. A whiter hand than his never embellished a cuff. He stood six feet in his stockings, and well do I remember Sub-lieutenant Delplanque saying to me " Mon cher, one may stitch pokers instead of whalebone into one's stays, and still fail to achieve the air magnificent and Caesar esque that distinguishes le major Argrrrarve." I was once walking on the por^, as they call the quay, with my father, when Louis Napoleon drove past us ; His Majesty was in mufti, and my JIT rXGLE'S SGEEJ^IE. father would not liave kno^n him had not the Emperor deigned to raise his hat. The compliment was an imperial one, and my father would relate the incident with exquisite satisfaction. Jack Sturt said " it was foreign majesty paying homage to^ British arms — and legs." To which I added, " God save the Queen." There can be no doubt that after I left school my father ought to have put me to one of the professions, or entered me in a house of business. He had two brothers, one of whom owned a private bank, the other was a retired stock-broker; and either of them, as they afterwards told me, would have been very glad to take me by the hand, had my father applied to them. But he was by nature a reckless man : by reckless I mean that he never troubled himself about the future MY UNCLE'S SCHEME. (though he lived strictly within his half- pay). He hated trouble of any kind or description. If ever he reflected upon the future, he could scarcely, I am sure, understand that it should mean more than a, perpetual succession of morning strolls, and afternoon siestas, and evening whist parties. He pursued day after day, with automatic regularity, a small round of trifling and monotonous distractions, which by degrees girdled his existence with the narrowest possible horizon, and prevented him from sympathising with any needs which, like mine, lay outside the sphere of his daily routine. I do not say I was not as much or more to blame. Had I teazed him, he would no doubt have made an eflbrt to get me out of Longueville into some calling in England. To speak the truth. MY UNCLE'S SGEEME. I liked my life so well tliat I liacl no "wisli to cliange. Monotony lias its fascina- tion. We cling to dulness after many years of habitude. Don't yoa know people who have, to your certain knowledge, made up their minds for the last ten years to leave the place they live in ? Year after year the same story is told — how they hate the society ; how inhospitable the neighbours are ; hovv^ low the town has become since their day : how every stone in every street is as familiar to them as their faces; how unspeakably nauseating the people who live opposite, and who overlook all their internal doings, make life by the sickening regularity of their habits. But your grumbling friends still go on living in the same place ; and all they do, and all they probably ever will do, is to amuse their resolution to quit with fictitious MY UNCLE'S SCHEME. inspections of houses they don't mean to take, and occasional applications for lists to distant liouse-agents, with whom they have not the slio^htest intention of trans- acting any business. Over and over again I would say, '' I'd give anything to get out of this hole ; " and no man's voice more loudly swelled the residential chorus of abuse against Longueville than mine. But I never meant what I said. In the depths of my soul ' dwelt a very pathetic love for our apartments, with the faded velvet furniture and ghastly skeleton clock and antique mirrors, over Auguste Soulier's the bootmaker's shop in the Eue d'Enghien ; for the pastrycook's opposite, where, wdien a boy, I would spend my pocket-money in jpistaclies and tarts, and where, when grown too nice for raw sweetmeats and jam, I would dawdle over Yanilla ices ; for H^IY UNCLE'S SCHEME. the billiard table in tlie Cafe Grenouille over whose worn cloth I have stooped with an enthusiasm that, directed into a money-making channel, would have earned me a good income ; for the whist tables in the club-room, where, amid volumes of smoke from cigars, at fifty centimes apiece, I would make or lose during a long evening as much as ten sous. And shall I ever forget — oh, fond and foolish heart, be still ! — shall I ever forget thee, sweet Pauline Gautier — remind me, was thy father a dancing-master, or did he keep a school ? Thee, I say, whom on summer evenings I would row in a boat on the amber- coloured river, filling the intervals of the measured music of my oars with tender breathings, surely not the less delightful for thee to hear because I whispered them MY UNCLE'S SCHEME. in French, not always strictly gramma- tical ? But, as my father would often say, apropos of nothing, "Facts, my boy, are stronger than prejudices •/' and a very un- deniable fact was that, though billiards, and smoking, and boating, and spooning by moonlight are highly agreeable pur- suits, they could not in any fashion what- ever contribute to my existence when it pleased heaven to call my father away. I wonder I never thought of this. However, when I was hard upon three-and-twenty, a change came. This is the story of it. One morning I saw a letter addressed to my father lying upon the breakfast- table. It bore the English post-mark, and without takins: further thouo^ht of it I went to the window and amused myself 10 2IY UNCLE'S SCEmiE. T\itli staring out until my father should enter. Somehow, I have the clearest recollection of that morning, and of a trivial incident that made up the life of the street whilst I looked down upon it. It was early morning — nine o'clock. The gay sunshine streamed brightly upon the shop-windows and the white pavement, and threw a coquettish intelligence upon the brown and comely features of a smart femme de cliamhre, who had thrown up a window opposite to shake a duster, which, I took it, she meant to continue shaking whilst I remained visible. In the middle of the road were two soldiers, little red-trowsered men, so neat and small, you would have said that they had just been unpacked at the toyman's at the corner. A priest passed, reading a book, with his eyes in the corners of their IIY UNGLW8 SCHEME. 11 sockets ; the little soldiers wliipped up their hands, gave him a salute, and fell to talking again. Ciel ! how they ges- ticulated, shrugged, brandished their fists, smote their breasts, and struck attitudes ! In London a crovrd would have surrounded them in two minutes, and a hundred pocket - handkerchiefs would have been lost for ever. Now what were they grimacing, grinning, grunting, and growling over ? Probably a description. Alphonse was tellino; Jules how Ausriste had beaten Amedee last night at dominoes ; the stakes, sugar-and- water all round, a matter of cinquante centimes. Amedee vv^as cibime. Va pour nil croquant ! You saw his face this morning, Jules ? Tenez ! 'twas green as grass. This Amedee bears misfortune like a Eussian. (To-day it woidd be a Prussian). Bah ! . . here a shrug ex- 12 MY UNCLE'S SCHEME. pressed the rest : in which the ears stood out along the shoulders, in which the back became a hump, in which the tension of the corporeal frame lifted the trousers up the calves, and exhibited everything but socks — in which the whole person was transformed into a rounded twist of silent eloquence, so convincing that I saw Mon- sieur Galette in the pastry-cook's shop, nod his head with a gesture of acute appre- ciation of the significance of the martial convulsion. Thus universally intelligible in France is the language of contortion. As the soldiers walked off, gesticulating as if at any moment they would throw their caps down and fight it out, in came my father, took up the letter, pulled out his glasses, and having read a little, called out — " Charlie, here's news for you." irr UNCLE'S SCHEME. 13 " Grove E]sd, Updowx, "May — , 18—. *•' My dear Brother, " I was very glad to get your letter, for, guessing roughly, I should say it is not a day less than four years since I last heard from you. You hate the sea ; yet you managed to cross the Channel once ; can t you cross it again and spend a few weeks with us ? " (My father shook his head.) " I can give you some capital Burgundy, my cook knows her work, and though society here is rather drab-coloured, I can pick you out enough people to keep you well stocked with rubbers." 14 MY UNCLW8 SCHEME. (" He would have to entertain a corpse," said my father. " The crossing would kill me — especially if it were calm — for then all the filth of the engine-room is tasted.") " And now to business/' continued the letter. " You want to place your son. "Would he like to be a banker's clerk?" (" No," said I ;^ but my father took no notice.) " One of my clerks is leaving me. His salary is £100. I will make it £150 for your son, if he vv^ill come. He can either live in lodgings or with us. He may prefer the former ; but I think he will find our house more comfortable than any apartments he can get at Updown, The MY UNCLE'S SCHEME. 15 place T\T.ll be vacant next week, and lie can join when lie likes. "Eichard was ^ith me last montli/' ("Poor Dick!" said my father; "we haven't met for twenty years ! ") "Do you know that he has changed his quarters, and purchased an estate at Shandon ? " ("Tom told me that Dick had retired on £40,000," said my father, looking at me over his glasses.) "He has gro-^Ti very corpulent, and hankers after his old trade. A gain of £10 makes him giddy with joy; and he will forget, amid his transports, that he lost a hundred or more last account. His 16 J/r rXCLE'S SCHEME. daughter Theresa has grown a fine woman. I shall be curious to see your son, who scarcely reached to my knee when I last saw him. " My wife and Constance send all manner of kind messages. "Believe me, dear Charles, "Your affectionate brother, "Thomas Haegeave." " What is all this about ? " said I. "About?" cried my father: "why, about you." " What made you ^Tite ? You didn't tell me you had done so." "Because I wasn't sure that an}i:hing would come of it. Why, this is from MY UNCLE'S SCHEME. 17 jour uncle Tom. Didn't you know you liad sucli an uncle ? " " Of course I knew — but wliat made you write ? " " ril tell you," answered my father, pulling ojff his glasses. " Last Monday evenino; I had a talk with Harris at the o Club. Harris is a man I respect. I consider Harris," said my father with emphasis, " an honest man. He spoke of you. ' Major,' said he, ' I think Charlie is too fine a fellow to be allowed to run to seed in a place like this ? ' ' I'll own, Harris,' said I, ' that it has sometimes struck me my son might be doing better.' He then asked me, why I didn't get you into some house of business in London. This sort of cpies- tions are very easily put. There's no difficulty in asking a subaltern why he YOL. I. C 18 3fY UNCLE'S SCHEME. isn't a field-marslial, or a poor man wliy lie don t invent something wonderful, and make a fortune. ' The fact is/ said I, ' I have no interest in the City. I don't think/ I said, quite forgetting my brother Tom for the moment, ^that I have a single friend in business.' ' Well, major,' said Harris, 'your boy and I are old friends : he's a thorough En^flishman and a gentleman, and has done nothing that I can see to deserve expatriation. I'll tell you what I'll do. I have a brother ' ' Faith Harris,' said I, ' I am truly obliged to you, but I can't permit you to do for me what it is my duty, at all events, to try to do for myself. You've reminded me that I, too, have a brother who owns a private bank. By George!'" — (my father always swore like a gentleman) — '^ ' I'll write to him ! MY UNCLE'S SCHEME, 19 I have never asked either of my brothers a favour in my life ; and I don't sup- pose Tom will refuse me a first and last request/ So, without sajdng a word to you, I sent a letter to Tom, asking his interest for you. I don't know how it strikes you — but / never could have expected so handsome a reply after so long a silence. Why, he has answered me by return of post," said my father, peering at the date. " Oh, no doubt he is very kind," I answered, wishing both him and old Harris at Jericho. " But I haven't any particular wish to leave here." *' True, but this is no place for a young man. What's your age ? Tln^ee- and-twenty. My dear boy, at three-and twenty William Pitt was First Lord of the Treasury. What you have to con- 20 MY UNCLE'S SCHmiE. sider is, I am fifty years old" (50 4- 12), "and at fifty a man is no longer young/' " That is true," said I, somewhat im- pressed, for these were considerations that, so far as I could remember, had never before disturbed either of us. '' When I die," continued my father, "my pay dies with me. I have saved nothing — what have I to save ? This is not so cheap a place to live in as people think. There was, indeed, a time when ten francs would purchase poultry enough to stock a hotel for a week, but now I can scarcely put a pair of fowls on my table for that money. "When I die, what is to become of you ? If you don't think of that now, you will find yourself in a muddle some of these days. Tom can be the making of you if he likes. A hundred and fifty MT UNCLE'S SCHEME. 21 a year, let me tell you, is a very liand- some beginning." " Yes ; but a banker's clerk ! " " You needn't call yourself tkat. You'll be known as your uncle's nephew, and I should always speak of you as a banker. And after all, what does it signify what you're called, so long as you have pros- pects ? " " I know I can't do any good by re- maining here," said I, gloomily ; " but that doesn't make me want to leave." "Man," answered my father with the solemnity of a Easselas, "is not a vege- table. Legs were given him to walk with, and the world was made for him to look at. As we advance in life our wants dwindle to a point. No man could ever have started with more copious aspirations than I did, and now whist is the one solitary 22 MY UNCLE'S SCHEME. pleasure tliat satisfies me. I don't know," lie continued, stroking his fine whiskers, " how it came about that I never thought of sending a line to Tom about you before. Answer his letter after breakfast, and take care to thank him for his kindness. I consider his ofier a very handsome one." "It's a^^fuUy sudden," said I. Indeed it was : and I thought it hard that I should be called upon to act and decide for myself without having received one word of warning that a change was to take place. It was not to be expected that I could let fall at once those pre- judices in favour of an idle life which had been the accumulation of six years of steady inactivity. "All good fortune is sudden," said my father. iirr rxcLE's scheme. 23 "Do yoic mean to accept tlie invita- tion r " No ; apart from my horror of tlie sea, I sliould prefer that you entered life alone. There is a dignity in solitude — a suggestion of self-dependence, my boy, that all men of the world admire. Of course on your arrival you will assure everybody of my affectionate and brotherly sentiDients." " I shouldn't mind anything else but a banker's clerk!" I grumbled. " Eoget's a banker's clerk, and what a snob he is!" " Eoget's a Frenchman. Don't con- found monkeys with men. Always l^e lordly in your estimates of what you are about. I always was. Nothing gave me greater delight than to be magnificent in trifles. I have read of a composer who 24 MY UNCLE'S SCHEME. invariably sat down to T\Tite in full court dress, witli fine lace ruffles on, and diamond rings. That was a great man. Let your personal cliaracteristics, if you liave any, overtop and overwhelm every consideration that seems in an}^'ise mer- cenary or humble. Sink the Thing in the Man ! Beau Brummel behind a counter showing scarves to gentlemen or silks to ladies, would make haberdasherising a gorgeous calling, fit for monarchs to pursue. If I were a banker s clerk, the whole profession should feel themselves dignified by the accession of a man in whose rich and sumptuous individuality all paltry conditions of his emplo}Tnent should be merged, sunk, and annihilated I" Saying which, he gave me a magnifi- cent nod, and looked at himself in the glass. MY UNCLE'S SCHEME. 25 "Happen what will," said I, "111 live in lodgings. I suppose I sliall be fear- fully liardworked : but what time I have to myself, I mean to be tree in. For anything I can tell, my aunt may hate the smell of tobacco. Perhaps uncle Tom is a one-pipe man, who blows his cloud up the kitchen-chimney. A plea- sant look-out for a fellow like me, to find himself in a house, w^here, after tea, the wife pulls out ' Emma,' or ' Cecilia,' and reads aloud, whilst the husband snorts in an arm-chair, and the daughter works at an altar cloth ! Bed at half- past nine — a knock at your door at a quarter to ten, with a shrill request to put your light out, as master s afraid of fire. No boiled mutton and near rela- tions for me ! I'd rather be a missionary than endure that sort of thing." 26 MY UNCLE'S SCHEME, " By all means live in lodgings," said my father, who, I could see, reflected witli liorror u23on the picture I had drawn. *'A hundred and fifty a year ought to get you some good wine and cigars, and I don t see what the deuce is to upset you." " Well, I can but try banking, and see how I like it," said I, dolefully, accommodating my prejudices after the established fashion. " Oh, you'll like it," answered my father. " You're not going among strangers : and Tom is too much my brother, I hope, not to know what is due to relations and gentlemen." Here Celestine brought in the coffee and omelettes, and we sat down to breakfast. Of course you guess that I did as my MY UNCLE'S SCHEME. 27 father bade me, and accepted my uncle's offer with an abundance of artificial grati- tude. Eeally grateful I could not be. I was content to remain as I w^as, as I have told you, and heartily wished my uncle hanged for his kindness. Nor was I at all well-pleased to be reminded of my prospective necessities. What busi- ness had Harris to remind my father to tell me that, when he died, I should be a beggar ? This was a most objectionable truth : a bold, naked, confounded fact, which, when I was made to look at it, I could not blink ; which rendered work necessary ; and which enforced my accept- ance of uncle Tom's offer. "Ah, my PauHne!" I remember thinking that -evening as I wandered companion- less around the stand on which the band of the Hundred Guards were 28 3ir UNCLE'S SCHEME. playing, as only it can play, '^ Ah, my Pauline, would that I had but thy papa's income, which, as he once assured me in a moment of supreme confidence, amounted to two thousand francs ! Small are my wants and thine ! What luxuries and bliss unspeakable were ours on two thou- • sand francs of rent ! Is not thine a smile that would make soupe maigre — accursed beverage 1 — more exquisite to the palate than turtle-soup ? Hast thou not eyes whose sweet fires would give to the thin- nest ordinaire the ruby radiance and the Paradisaical aroma of Burgundy's vin- tage ? " Was love a reason for my reluc- tance to leave Longueville ? I almost forget. Seldom is the memory tenacious of early indiscretions, or, as a Scotchman said to me once, with intense gravity, *' Sir, we forget what we canna remem- 2IY rXCLE'S SCHEME. 29 ber." I contrast those sighs I have just recorded with the emotions with which I surveyed Pauline last summer. Que voidez vous ? She keeps a hotel. Fat ? was she fat ? Mr. Bantino- mio-ht have been cut out of her, and still left her a stout woman. I did not know her. Fat annihilates idealism, and I mio-ht as well have hunted for a vision of loveliness in the lump of marble which the sculptor has not yet struck, as have sought for the PauKne of my youth, the Pauline of my moonlight boating trips, the Pauline of the black eyes and little waist, in the Dutch and shaking rotundity that filled me, as I gazed, with mingled emotions of alarm and amazement. She knew me, and gasped out her name and — pouff ! let me blow these recollections away. I have a story to tell of which Pauline is not the heroine. 30 MY UNCLE'S SCHEME. So figure to yourself that I liave bid- den my father and a grouj^ of friends, in deer-stalking hats and tight pantaloons, good-bye, and that I am standing near the man at the wheel, who is steering the "King of the French" out through the piers, and that I continue waving my handkerchief to everybody who will look, until the town sinks behind the cliffs, and the 23iers melt into thin lines. Then I gaze ahead, and see nothing but a broad expanse of blue leaping water, through which the steamer cuts her way, straight for a cloud, a vague white cloud upon the horizon, which a Frenchman near me tells Madame, his wife, is "Le cliffs to Shak-ess-pear, comedian Angieesh/' CHAPITER 11. " Take my word for it, -when relations choose to be obliging, they're better friends than any a man can make for himself." — The Vagrant. I HAD to change carriages at Canterbury in order to get to UpcIoTSTi, wliicli was twelve miles distant from tliat city. I felt as lonely as a German wlio can't speak a word of English, and who must either make his way from Leicester Square to Mile End Gate, or starve. A guard took me for a foreigner, perhaps a fire- worshipper, because I had to get him to repeat a question three times before I 32 MY UNCLE'S SCHEME. had the faintest idea of his meaning. I will put it to the most intelligent of my readers — if a man with a face like the countenance of a skate, were to thrust his head into a window and roar with a voice turbid with hops, " F-r-sh-f-rd-s-r ! " what would you think? Would you call for the police ; or fall back, and resignedly give yourself up for lost ? What I gathered after a bold and narrow cross- examination was, that the man, who en- joyed his right senses, wanted an answer to this question : " Are you for Ashford, sir ? " Considering that I look as much an Englishman as blue eyes, a fair com- plexion, and a yellow, or auburn, or red, or tawny (take your choice ; they all mean one colour) mustache can make a man ; and considering, moreover, that I could articulate the national dialect in a ]\TY UNCLE'S SCHEME. 33 manner Dr. Jolinson himself — liis immortal name, I am proud to say, lieads chapter one — would have held unimpeachable, I maintain that I had a right to consider myself aggrieved, by being set down as a foreigner, by a man who looked like a fish, and sj^oke like a Yahoo. Ever since that day I have possessed, and I hope I shall always preserve, an imafiected sym- pathy with foreigners travelling in England. No wonder Alphonse Tassard, after a fort- night's trip to Great Britain — he havino- set out with the intention of returnino- o in four days — swore with many wild and awful imprecations, that he would rather travel round Dante's fearful circles, than make a tour in Albion. For, had not a London cabman taken him to the North- Western Eailway Station instead of to the South-Eastern Eailway Station; and had YOL. I. D 34 MT UNCLE'S SCEEME. not a 50^ put liim into a carriage tliat "wliirlecl liim into tlie furnaces of the Black Country, instead of to tlie southern port, whence he had hoped to embark for his hair-dressing establishment in the Eue de Poitrine ? The train stopped at Updown station, and out I jumped, leaving behind me, in my eagerness to escape from being carried any further, a new silk umbrella with an ivory handle. (This is intended to meet the eye of a melancholy looking man who sat opposite to me.) My portmanteau, which might have been full of priceless Dresden ware for anything the guard knew, was hurled out of the van on to the platform, where it gave a bound and stood upright, the engine screeched, off went the train, and I was left staring at a short man with a waist- ILY UNCLE'S SCHEME. 35 coat that descended considerably below Ills middle, wlio, on catching my eye, fell to poking his forehead rapidly ^ith his thumb. "Mr. Hargrave, sir?" said he interro- gatively. " That's my name," I answered. " Fm from yonr uncle, if you please, sir. The phaetons awaitin' outside. Is that all your luggage, sir ? " "That's all." The groom or coachman, or whatever he was, pounced upon the portmanteau, hoisted it on to his shoulders, and led the way out of the station into a green lane, where stood a neat little trap, into which he bade me jump. I was not fond of jumping. All my traditions were opposed to violent exercise. 1 clambered leisurely on to the front seat, my com- S6 ]\IY rXCLE'S SCHEME. paiiion seized the reins, and the smart chestnut mare, lustrous with brass-mounted harness, started off at a quick trot. " Where are you going to drive me to?" I asked. "To Mr. Hargrave's, sir," rej^lied the man. " Do you know if he has j)rocured any lodoino;s for me in the town ? " " I really can't say, sir. Master ordered me to drive you to Grove End. Them w^as my orders, sir." I wondered if it could be possible that my uncle had determined I should live in his house ? I was resolved that no t3n:anny of hospitality should tame me into submission. I had made up my mind to live in lodgings, and nothing human, I said to myself, shall induce me to abandon that resolution. How was I to JIT TJNCLWS SCHEME. 37 kno^v the sort of treatment I miglit liave to submit to? Mig-litn't tlie butler — if they kept one — sneer at me from behind his masters chair, and flatter himself that there was no comparison between the respectability of his position as a butler, and mine as a l^anker's clerk ? Mightn't my aunt send me upon menial errands, treat me as a kind of upper foot- man, and if I remonstrated, inquire with a scowl what I thought her husband gave me a hundred and fifty pounds a year for ? Meanwhile, I was being driven through a country so exceedingly pretty, that in the face of it, my fretful and feverish fancies died away, and I found myself incapable of more than admiration. Up- down, the coachman told me, was three miles from the station. We had driven 28 MY UNCLE'S SCHEME. a mile by this time, but I could see iiotliing of the town. The country was hilly, AAdth ridges richly shagged with wood. It was a glorious May afternoon,. with a warm breeze that swept by, charged with indescribable aromas, and with the most delicate blue sky that ever I saw, across which great bright clouds were rolling, dimming the sun at intervals, and mellowing and deepening with shadows the manifold colours of hills and plains. We had long ago left the green lane and were now bowling along a very good turnpike road, which rose and fell as far as the horizon behind us, but which grew very devious and vanishing as we advanced. I was struck by the air of cultivated beauty the country exhibited. I had never seen anything like it about Longueville. I noticed the vivid green MY rXCLE'S SCEJEME. 39 of tlie grass, the sturdy and slieltering aspect of the trees, the cosiness and -pev- manency of the farm-houses and wayside buildings, and the rugged and vigorous frames of the country people we over- took and passed. Presently we rattled over a broad bridge, and I looked along a bright river with so smooth a surface that the shores were as accurately mir- rored in it as if it had been a looking- glass. I thought of Izaak Walton and hearty, cheerful Mr. Cotton, and wondered if they had ever thro^vTi their quills in that water ; and as the " Compleat Angler^' was a book I had often read, and was passionately fond of, it is not surprising that the rich and sweet description of Maudlin, and her syllabubs and song, should come into my memory to gild the brief glimpse I had caught 40 MY TJNCLE'8 SCHEME. witli tlie radiance of an imperishable poem. On coming to a bend of the road, I saw on my right the red roofs and church sjDires and glittering vanes, and smoking chimneys of a town built on the sloping sides of two hills. "Is that Updomi?" I asked. The coachman said it was. I gazed at it with interest. Distance softened all rude and commonplace details, and, in the silver sunshine, the town looked fairy-like. The central street, which ran straight as a line through the heart of the valley, was made wonderfully picturesque by a great archway. We branched off just as we were getting near enough to see the houses distinctly, and, in about ten minutes, drove through a gate, along a pleasant avenue, and stopped before an J/r rXCLE'S SCEE^TE. 41 exceedingly pretty house, with gleaming conservatories on either side, and hedged about Tidth a great profusion of shrub- bery. I saw a girl's face at one of the windows, and, in a moment or two, the door was thrown open, and forth stepped — my uncle : a spare, dry-faced man, with, very high shirt-collars, and a very shiny black satin cravat, and dressed in a suit of shepherd's plaid. Of course I had no idea who he was, for there was no more resemblance between him and my father than there was between his coachman and me. But the moment he smiled, I knew he must be a Har- grave. I got out of the phaeton, and he came up to me, and took my hand, and held it without speaking, whilst he ran his eye over me. 42 IIY UNCLE'S SCHEME. " And yoit are Charlie, are you ? '^ cried he, not letting go my hand, but, on the contrary, proceeding to shake it slowly and persistently. " Good heaven ! how old the world must be getting I Why, it Avas only the other day that you came up to my knee, and now, egad 1 it seems as if I only came up to^ yours ! Do you remember me ? " "Very faintly," said I. ''You came to Longueville once, when I was at school." " Yes — yes ! and I got you a half- holiday, and you wheedled a haK- crown out of me ! ha ! ha ! and how's my brother, the major ? Does he ever mean to come and see me ? . . But what do / mean by keeping you stand- ing here ? Hi ! James, carry Mr. Har- grave's portmanteau into the hall.'' ILY UXCLE'S SCHEME. 4^ And catching me by the arm, he led me np the steps, and through the hall into a drawino'-room full of flo^vers and o china — so it appeared to me — calling " Conny ! Conny ! " loudly as we passed in. Scarcely were we entered, when two ladies presented themselves. I felt travel- worn and soiled, and wished my uncle had given me an opportunity of making myself a little fresher-looking before in- troducing me to his wife and daughter. I made a low bow and took my aunt's hand ; she welcomed me in a very mild and pleasing manner. My couslq Conny then came up to me and shook my hand, looking very shy and charming. She was exceedingly pretty. Up to that time, I don't think I had ever seen her ecjual. As to Pauline Gautier — pshaw ! There 44 3IY UNCLE'S SCHEME. was no comparison to be made. Pauline was broTVTL ; Conny liad a skin of snow, and liair of gold, and large, modest, dark blue eyes, and a sweet and sancy nose, and a small montli, and a transporting figure. I. can't describe tlie dress ske wore. No man but a sliopkeeper ougkt to be able to describe a woman's cos- tume. Skall I tell you wky ? because a woman's style ougkt to be too perfect for a man to notice details. Depend upon it, tliere is sometking gross in tkat woman's taste, wkose dress, after leaving ker, a man is able to describe. My aunt was a stout, kealtky-looking woman, red-ckeeked, witk a most amiable cast of countenance. I was impressed by tlie size of ker cap, and ker walk, wkick was a waddle. My uncle pusked a ckair forwards for me to be seated ; ke and 2TY rXGLE'S SGRE2IE. 45 the ladies then rano^ed themselves round me, and we beo'an to converse. I was deliofhted to hear from C3 my brother. How is he ? " " Very well indeed. He beo-o-ed me to thank you heartily for the kindness of your offer to me, and to convey his love to you and Mrs. Hargrave, and your daughter." " What a time he has lived at Lono-ne- o ville ! Isn't he sick of the place ? '' " No. AYe are both of us very fond of L on o'lie ville. ' I left it with oxeat o o regret, I assure you.'' " I wanted papa to take us there this summer,'^ said Conny, timidly, and then starting like Fear in Collins' Ode, at the sound she herself had made. "I di^ead the water, jMi\ Charles," observed my aunt. 46 MY UNCLE'S SGSEME. "And so does my father, or lie would liave been glad to accept your kind in- vitation.'' "Is it long since you were in England V ■asked Conny. " I have not been in England since I was six years old." "Why, you must be a perfect French- man ! " cried out my uncle and aunt in a breath. And then said my uncle : "You'll find French very useful to you in business. How do you like the idea of being a banker ? " "I know nothing about it," I answered. I was proud of my ignorance. I be- lieved it would impress Conny. I felt, in short, like the West-end gentleman who .asked a friend where the city was. " We'll soon teach you," said my uncle, cheerily. " I wish you had made up your JIT rxCLE'S 8CEEME. 47 mind to live ^^'itll its. I have taken lodfi^ino's for vou in the toT\Ti, as von desired, but I am sure yon would have been more comfortable here.'' I felt disposed to agree T^ith him. Certainly the house appeared a very delightful one, and I must say that I had had no idea I owned such a pretty cousin as Conny. But still I reflected that the habits of the old people might be entirely opposed to mine ; and it would be hideous to have to submit to any kind of restraint, after the long years of billiards, tobacco, and freedom I had enjoyed at Longue^dlle. "At all events," said my aunt, "you can always come here if you don't find your quarters comfortable. Your land- lady was recommended to me by our laundress, who is a very respectable 48 3rY UXCLE'S SCRE2IE. woman ; Conny and I inspected your rooms, before taking them, and tliey seem pretty comfortable. They are very clean, which is a OTeat thino' in lodoinofs/' I looked at Conny, who was watching me ; her eyes fell when mine met them. There seemed a little more keenness and slyness in their glance than I should have thought such innocent, maidenly, tender, blue eyes capable of. But oh, Eugenio ! what is there more deceitful in life than a pretty girl ? Does thy heart bleed ? Mine has bled. I have tried to pick a rose, and have pulled away nothino' but four fing;ers and a thumb stuffed ^ith thorns. " You will dine with us to-day," said my uncle. "Afterwards, James shall drive you to your quarters. There is no need to go to work before Monday. You can ITY rXCLE'S SCHEME. 49 pass the rest of the week in looking about yon, and sending home your im- pressions to my brother, the major, who I daresay will l^e anxious to know how you like the place/' "Your kindness," I answered, "will give me plenty to tell him about." "My dear boy, we promise to do our best to make you happy," said my uncle effusively. " I can assure you, it gives me gTeat pleasure to be of ser\dce to you and my brother. He ought to have applied to me before. Had you begun this sort of work ten years ago, you might have owned a bank of your own by this time. But it's never too late to begin, is it ?" and here he smiled, and I smiled, and my aunt smiled, and my sweet little cousin laughed a little harping treble, soft as the notes of a flute heard VOL. I. B 50 MY UNCLE'S SCHEME. on tlie water at midniglit. " This is very promising," thought I. My aunt then told her husband to take me upstairs; it was nearly five, and dinner would soon be ready. So I followed my imcle to a bed-room, and there, as I brushed my hair and curled my mustache, I wondered what sort of an impression I had made on my rela- tions. I thought of my fathers ad^dce, and wished I knew how to be as magni- ficent as he. He had often told me that his brothers had a very high respect for him, and considered him the prop and decoration of the family name. I thought this quite likely. People in business do respect professional relations. Profit and purple are a fine combination ; and if ]\Ir. Scrip knows that her ladyship would call upon Mrs. Scrip, were she to hear that MY UNCLE'S SCHEME. 51 tlie Dean was Mrs. Scrip's brotlier, wliy shouldn't Scrip l3rag of tlie parson, and combine social dignity with his remunera- tive pursuits in Throgmorton Street ? I lamented my inability to imitate my father's lordliness, for then I might have profited by my relations' pride in him, and j)rovoked deference, and even awe, by repeating in myself those swelling cjualities and overtopping characteristics which rendered my father among his acquaintance an object of admiration and reverence. It is an old saying, that the world will always take you at your o^TL price. Cast your eyes around you, Eugenio, and mark the numbers w^ho are buying paste for precious stones, and, albeit, by no means destitute of the critical faculty, ostentatiously parading the worthless make-believe in the sincere con- LIBRARY UNIVERSITY OF ILLINOIS 52 MY TJNCLWS SCHEME. viction that tliey are gems of tlie purest ray serene. Any mnjBf can make liimself a considerable man, if lie will but sliont long and lond enough to the populace to step up ! step up ! and admire ! " Behold me, gentlemen ! " says the jDoet through himself or through his friends. " I am not so great a man as Shakespeare, and I have not Dante's austere and morbid imagination. But it is universally ac- knowledged that I combine the sweetness of Keats and the Tvisdom of "Wordsworth with the power of Byron and the ghastli- ness of Coleridge ; and give me leave to say that the man who can rival these acknowledged geniuses onust be great ? " '.' Hooroor ! " yell the populace. They believe him ; they buy his quarto of non- sense ; and lo ! another muff is canonised. So I maintain that my father was right MV rXCLE'S SCHEME. 53 when lie exliorted me to treat life as a court-dress affair. The world is so full of hero-worshippers, that no man can think himself too important. CHAPTEK III. Hardcastle. " I believe, sir, you must be sensible, sir, that no man alive ought to be more welcome than your father's son, sir. I hope you think so ? " Marloiv. "I do, from my soul, sir. I don't want much entreaty, I generally make my father's sore welcome wherever he goes." — She Stoojps to Conquer.. I RETUENED to my uncle and tlie ladies in tlie drawing room. By this time I felt quite at home, a feeling to wliich. the improvement effected by the hair- brush and towel in the coup-cVceil of my personal appearance did not a little con- tribute ; and I could stop to admii^e. Addressing myself to my aunt, I com- irV UNCLE'S SCHEME. 55 plimented her upon the beauty of tlie grounds, a glimpse of whicli I could catch through the windows, and entered easily into a conversation, in which my uncle and Coimy joined ^dth great readiness. My uncle gained upon me. Yellow, and spare, and shrewd as his face was, a great deal of heart and amiability were mixed up in it. He was five years younger than my father, but was one of those men who look fifty when they are thirty, and forty when they are sixty. He had lank black hair, and a long nose, and a spasmodic way of speaking, as if, after delivering himself of a few sentences, he found difficulty in breathing. I asked him what time the bank closed. ''At four," he answered. ''The clerks generally get away by half-past." "Do you like the idea of being a 56 MV UNCLE'S SCHEME. banker's clerk ? " inquired Conny, with a gleam of mischief in her blue unfathom- able eyes. " I haven't the least notion," I replied. *'A11 that I know about banks is that they are places where you offer cheques and receive money for them." " True," said my uncle, with a laugh ; *' but people must work very hard in order to induce the banks to change those cheques into money." " I wonder your papa didn't put you into the army," said Conny. "Would not you have liked to be a soldier ? " "It is immaterial to me what I am, provided I am easy in my mind, and have time now and then to smoke a cigar," answered I, with the lofty languor of an exquisite of the first water. Conny laughed merrily; but, being afraid 3fr rXCLE'S SCHEME. 57 that my answer was a rather ungracious one, all things considered, I changed the subject by asking my uncle if he smoked. Yes, he did smoke, incessantly, Mrs. Har- grave told me ; which meant that he had a cigar after dinner and a cigar with his grog before going to bed. I should have probably pointed out that my uncle was extraordinarily moderate in his consump- tion of tobacco, and have proceeded to give a sketch of our club in the Eue des Chiens, and the immense quantity of tahac Jin and cigars that were smoked there at a sitting, had not dinner been announced. I gave my arm to my aunt, and, followed by Conny and her papa, marched into the dining-room, a charming apartment with a large window conducting on to the lawn, and glass doors leading into the conserva- tory, the walls hung with good paintings, 58 IIY UNCLE'S SCHEME. and the \y]iole of tlie furniture in happy taste. The settino^ sun was shinino* in front, and filled the room with long slant- ing rules of pink light, the effect of which was to make Conny, who took a seat fronting me, bewitchingly pretty. I had tasted no food since eight o'clock that morning, and therefore did abundant justice to the very good dinner that had been provided for me. My uncle was a capital host. He allowed me to eat instead of dis- turbing me with remarks, and damaging my appetite by obliging me to talk. His wines were caj^ital ; his cook, like Bayard, sans reproclie ; I said to him, holding up a glass of Madeira, " My father would appreciate this." " Yes," he answered ; *' why doesn't he come and see us ? I should find him aged, no doubt ; but he was always a MY UXCLE'S SCHEME. 59 handsome man." And he began to tell us stories of his and his brother's young days, and how a certain young lady broke her heart when my father went to India, and how another young lady turned Eoman CathoHc, and faded into a white veil, when my father married. I thought Conny looked sentimental whilst she lis- tened. I caught her eye once, during^ these startlino^ revelations, but saw that she was not thinking of me by her abstracted air. By the time the sweets were on the table, I was qualified for any amount of conversation. I talked of Longueville, and of the Emperor's bow to my father, the major, described the Empress and her style, as well as I could, her fine taste and sweet face, and graceful manners — ^indeed, I talked so much of 60 MY UXCLE'S SCHEME. the imperial pair, wliom I had only seen once or twice at Longueville, that my aunt got the extraordinary impression in her head that I was an intimate friend of theirs, as I afterwards learned, by her boasting to a friend that, " Charlie was often ^ith the Emperor and Empress of the French at Longueville." True to my resolution to deal with life as splendidly as I could, and not a little excited into a disposition to dazzle by Conny's intoxi- cating eyes, I talked of some titled acquaintances of mine at Longueville, and, I believe, dove-tailed their valuable names into my remarks, with surprising effect. J spoke of the capital cigars Lord Towers used to give me ; of the gambling propensities of the Honourable Mr. Spadille, Lord Shallowmans brother, who tried to induce the members of our 3rY UXCLE'S SCHEME. 61 club to play for guinea points ; of tlie Marchioness of Cliffeton's little suppers in the Eue de Yille, &c., &c. Do you think I told them that Lord Towers skulked in Longue^ille, because he durst not show his face in London for fear of Mr. Sloman 1 That the Honourable Mr. Spadille, Lord Shallo^TQan's brother, had bolted from Leamington with Colonel Corney's wife ? That the Countess of Cliffeton — bah ! What's in a name ? some- times a blackguard. What's in a lion's skin ? very often an ass. The characters of certain of the English nobility residing in Longueuille were nothing to nobody. All that / wanted was, that my uncle, and aunt, and Conny of the celestial eyes, should understand that a young gentleman, named Charles Hargrave, who, out of respect for his €2 3IY UNCLE'S SCHEME. father, the major, and out of regard for his o^TL prospects, had condescended to hecome a banker's clerk, had frequently waltzed T\ith a marchioness, and pledged her at her own table in unpaid champagne, had invariably addressed an English baron hy a convivial nickname, and had very often helped to put the intoxicated brother of a North British nobleman to bed. I don't know if my uncle was im- pressed; but my aunt was, and I rather think Conny was, too. An irresistible thrill of pride ran through me, when my aunt, leaning across the table, said mth great earnestness, " I am afraid, Mr. Charles, you will despise the position Thomas has offered you ; but though the profession of bank- ing has sunk rather low since our day, MY UNCLE'S 8CHE3IE. 63 there are still plenty of gentlemen eno^ao-ed in it." There was no sneer in tliis ; I sliould have instantly felt it had there been. '' Banking may have sunk low in other places," said Conny, Avith a heightened colour, '' but I am sure papa's clerks are gentlemen." "I am not so sure," replied my aunt, who every moment was proving herself to be a deliciously candid woman. " Oh, Curling's a gentleman," said my uncle, " and so is Spratling, though his name might be grander." " Mr. Curling is gentlemanly, I admit, but I don't consider him to be a gentle- man," exclaimed my aunt. Conny picked at a bit of bread and twisted the fragments into little balls. " Oh, I am sure I shall like banking, 64 MY UNCLE'S SCHE2IE. Mrs. Hargrave/' said I, with fine con- descension. " Of course," I continued, waving my hand in imitation of my father, who would gesticulate in that manner in a very impressive and polished way: " if I had an income of my own, however small, I should have preferred to continue as I was. But necessity is one of those things to which noblemen as well as ploughmen must submit." " True," said my uncle Tvith a nod. ''Help yourself to more wine." "I should have thought," observed my candid aunt with a face full of sober honesty, and in a tone that quite forbade all notion that any irony was intended, " that you would have been able to marry very well." " Oh, oh ! give him time — give him time ! " chuckled my uncle. MY rXCLE'S SCEE^fE. 65 " I have never been in love/' said I. Conny's deep eyes, full of mournfulness, met mine. '• I have a great horror, Mrs. Hargrave,'* I went on, "of men who marry only for money.'' "And so have I," said Conny. " Eh ? you ? " cried her papa, fondly. " What do yon know of these matters ? " " Money," I observed — a sucking Daniel come to judgment ! — " is no doubt very necessary ; but I never ^ill admit that it can be the foundation of married hap- piness." Nobody at that table had said that it was ; and the observation was therefore uncalled for. But I used to be a lover of slashing commonplaces. " I quite agree ^ith you," said Conny, TOL. I. F 66 3IY UNCLE'S SCHEME. looking, as slie spoke, a tliorough chiki of sensibility. " Majnt love and money be sometimes combined ? " suggested my aunt deferen- tially, as if liencefortli and for ever slie never meant to be sure of anytliing until I had given judgment. " I doubt it," I replied, and I gave lier my reasons : firstly, because, if the woman had money, she would always be suspi- cious of the man's sincerity ; and secondly — but why print myself an ass ? I spoke much indescribable folly; though, let me tell you, I never saw anybody look more pleased than Conny as she listened to me. She and I, and my aunt, had now all the conversation to ourselves ; for my uncle, after having assured me that he -was deaf with dyspepsia, had become silent, and did nothing but make faces and sip a peti?^ MY rXCLE'S SCHEME. gofit of brandy. There could be no question tliat I bad succeeded in making a very good impression on my aunt, and I rather fancied that Conny seemed well pleased with me. I was gentlemanly in my manners — I must really be permitted to say that ; and I was not bad looking — which is an obser- vation I should not dream of making did I not think it due to the public ; and I possessed the art, in some degree of per- fection, of talking a large amount of froth, in a manner that ladies, in those days, were obliging enough to think very agree- able and diverting. Putting these facts together, it is not very surprising that my aunt, whom I treated with all imagin- able courtesy, should have been favour- ably prejudiced; and I need not say, therefore, that I was not very greatly 68 MY UNCLE'S SCHEME. astonislied when slie said to me, before she left the table, "I do wish, Mr. Charles, that you would change your mind, and make this house your home.'^ " I am deeply sensible of the kindness and value of your offer, Mrs. Hargrave," I replied, with a bow my father might have en^ded, '^but I cannot think that I should have any right to inflict my presence upon you until you know me better. My habits," I continued, magnifi- cently, "have been formed in a school that might clash with the prejudices of English provincial life ; for our philosophy at Lonsfueville is of the laissez-aUer sort ; we are there, indeed, a species of lotus- eaters, whose hardest physical work is limited to dealing cards, and whose hardest mental work consists in playing MY UNCLE'S SCHEME. 69 tliem. When I have become more Angli- cised, I may then, with your hospitable permission, accept your very great kind- ness." She appeared overpowered by this speech, and felt, I daresay, very much as though she had just kissed hands at the Tuileries. I glanced at Conny, who, catching my eye, said saucily, " All men like their freedom ; but what a freedom it is ! it is a horrid slavery to tobacco, late hours, and to everything bad for the health." Here was an opportunity for saying something singularly neat and smart ; but I missed it from sheer want of wit. The ladies now left the table. The sun had sunk behind the hills, but many gorgeous tints lingered behind, and made the quiet sky beautiful. My uncle, lifting j\IY UNCLE'S SCHEME. liis head out of liis cravat, fixed a dys- peptic eye upon me, and bade me draw my cliair near liis and fill my glass. I cannot express liow mncli I liked the honest, homely amiability of his manner. He seemed to me the very essence of kindness. We had a long chat about my father, of whom he was very jDroud and fond, and asked me many questions about his habits and opinions and means. He then talked of my other uncle, Eichard, and his daughter Theresa, whom he described as a very fine girl, but so eccentric in her conduct as to cause some uneasiness to her father, who was anxious to get her married. . " If she is handsome and has money," I observed, " surely a husband ought to be easily got for her." "Dick tells me she has had several irY UNCLE'S SGEE2IE. 71 admirers/' answered my uncle, " but she is so confoundedly fastidious that nobody is able to please lier. What do you think of Conny ? " " She is a cousin to boast of She is the prettiest girl I have ever seen." My uncle looked immensely gratified. " Yes, yes,'' said he with a broad smile. "She is pretty enough. I have nothing to complain of. An only child is not always so well favoured. When nature is mean, she is generally mean with a ven- geance. But Conny is a sly puss ; she has made her mamma and me a little uneasy latterly." "Indeed!" " My cashier. Curling, is a rather good looking young fellow, and J\Irs. Hargrave has got an idea in her head that Conny admires him." 72 MY UNCLE'S SCHEME. " Oil, tliere is no harm in that." " She is afraid that Conny likes him." " Women often have the queerest tastes," said I uneasily. Why was I irritated by my aunt's suspicion ? " Did you notice that my wife rather jDoo-pooh'd bankers' clerks ? " "I did." " That was done for a motive," said my uncle with a twinkling eye. " My wife is a shrewd woman. I have no right to be her trumpeter, but I must say that very few women have my wife's sagacity." '' Is Mr. Curling a gentleman ? " *' I believe so. He is a London man. But he's no match for my daughter, I can tell you." " I should think not," said I jealously and warmly; "very few men are." MY UNCLE'S SCHEME. 73 "However/' continued my uncle, test- ing a wine-glass round upon the table, " all this may be a mere delusion on the part of your aunt." [^Your aunt! Do you mark the flattering identification ?]• " It would certainly never do to appear suspicious. Trifles are easily made signifi- cant and important. Curling used to be asked here sometimes, but my wife won t have him now ; and I think she's right. Eh ? What do you think ? " I fully agreed T\T.tli him ; and we then rose to join the ladies. Whilst we talked I had heard the sound of a piano, and on entering the drawing- room found Conny alone, j)laying very prettily. She instantly jum]3ed up when she saw her father and me. I begged her to keep her place, but she refused. " Do you play ? " she asked. ]\IY UNCLE'S SCHEME. "A waltz or two," said I ; "that's all." " Let me hear yoii." The little haughty command was delight- ful. I went at once and dashed into a piece of dance-music ; then looked up, thinking it was Conny who stood near, but found it was my aunt. " You have a charming touch, Mr. Charles," said she. "Of course you sing." Of course I didn't. She wouldn't believe me, so conquering and clever did she consider her nephew. I dropped my assur- ances to the contrary after a little, being perfectly satisfied to be included in the rank of those who have honour thrust upon them, and went up to Conny and asked her to play. "You would much rather smoke a cigar w^ith papa than listen." " Before I grow eloquent," said I, with MY UNCLE'S SCHEME. 7o a smile, " I should like to know if I may call you Constance ? " " Oh, I believe cousins are privileged." " And after I have called you Constance a few times, just for form's sake, may I address you as Conny ? " " Call me what you please," she replied, mth the loveliest flush of pink in her fair cheeks. " Then," said I, " Constance, so far from wishing to smoke, I would be per- fectly content to give up that habit for ever, if you would but consent to play tke piano to me, every time a longing came across me for a cio^ar." "That's a little story," she said in a whisper. Oh ! what lovely eyes ! oh, v\diat glorious hair ! Come, Pauline, come quickly, and snatch me from this peril ! Or, since 76 MY UNGLWS SCHEME. Pauline lias grown too fat to come quickly, rise ye recollections of defeat and humiliation, of rage and despair, and steel my lieart against the bewildering memories that make it languish as I write. "It is solemn truth," said I. AVhere- upon she went to the piano, and played " II segreto per esse felice," whilst mamma kept time with her head, and papa warbled an accompaniment at the other end of the room. " I wonder if it is too cold to smoke a cigar out of doors," said my uncle, open- ing one of the windows and thrusting his hand out to test the temperature. '' Oh yes, much too cold, I am sure. "Why can't you and Mr. Charles smoke in the library ? We'll keep you com- pany," observed my aunt. " Very well," answered my uncle. Jir rxCLE'S SCEEME. 77 *' Charlie, I hope you won't mind the ladies joining us?'"' Mind ! oh irony, where is thy sting ? And this was a house I durst not live in, for fear I shouldn't be allowed to have my liberty ! This was a house where smokins: was forbidden ! Where '" Emma" and " Coelebs " were read aloud, whilst ]\Iiss tatted ! Where lights were put out at a quarter before ten ! Dolt ! numskull ! but it was too late ; my honour was in- volved ; my dignity was at stake ! my importance must not be tarnished. I had said I would g-o into lodo-ino-s, and there was an end. "We all repaired to the library, where my aunt lighted some candles, and where my uncle produced a box of cigars, whilst Conny struck a wax match, and shaded the flame with her hand (whereby the 78 MY UNCLE'S SCHEME, liglit shone in her eyes, and made her hair sparkle like the sea at night), ready to hold to my cigar when I wanted it. I asked Mrs. Hargrave if she didn't object to the smell of tobacco. Oh no ; she liked it. She owned that she didn't much care about pipes, but she knew no smell so fragrant as that of a good cigar. " Don't you think my brother the major would enjoy this ? " said my uncle, lying back in a capacious arm-chair. " It would be his ideal of happiness," I answered. And I believed it would. The room, though large, was wonderfully snug, fur- nished with book-cases filled with volumes, and the walls ornamented with rich old engravings. My aunt sat near the table sewing, but not busily; and Conny occu- MY UNCLE'S 8CHE3IE. 7i> pied a chair near her papa, with her hands folded on her Lap, doing nothing. What could be more homely than such a. scene ? Oh, ladies, do you not know that your presence makes the cigar doubly soothing and fragrant, and choice beyond the wildest advertising dreams of the tobacconist ? There are men — call them Ogres, Bluebeards, Turks, Ashantees — who profess to think that the one great charm of tobacco is, that it gives them an excuse to get away from yom^ society. But take the word of a man who loves, admires, reverences your sex with the ardom^ of a Frenchman and the loyalty of a Briton — that to all good men Havannah fumes never taste so sweet as when your white hands present the lighted spill, and when your fair presences are enthroned in the ambrosial cloud. ISTo, madam, don't so :my rxcLE's sceeme. — -piaj don't pretend that good tobacco- smoke is objectionable. I speak not of mundungus, of tlie poisonous negro-head, of the raw, coarse cavendish. These, I admit, discharge fumes fit only for hot- Louses. I have in my mind the dry, the nutty, the aromatic cigar, to which, give me leave to ask, did ever an engaged woman object ? Fie ! you liked it, Julia, when James was courting you. Didn't you give him a silver match-box ? It is wifely tyranny, I say, that drives him and his intimidads into a back-room; it is caprice that kecks at his comforts, not at his cigars. Go ! thou art not my wife. I would not ovm thee. The true, the faithful, the fond, sits at her husband's feet, whilst he exhales the blue smoke in rings to the ceilinof. I call a blessing: on her. May her sons be honest men, and MY UNCLE'S SCHEME. 81 may tliey never know the want of a good cigar ! It was eiglit o'clock, wlien my uncle suddenly sitting bolt upright, said, " I don't want to hmTy you, Charlie ; but as you have a two miles' drive before you, and as I beheve your landlady has been expecting you since eight o'clock this morning, what say if I order the j)haeton to be got ready ? " I assented ^ith a stoical face, but with an inward deep reluctance. What a fool I was to permit my ridiculous fears to pre- vent me li^-ing at Grove End ! My uncle rung the bell, and ordered the trap, whilst my aunt expressed her regrets that it was necessar}' for me to leave so early, and her hopes that I would find my lodgings comfortable. I caught Conny smiling once or twice ; YOL. I. G MY UNCLE'S SCHEME. and Avhen, at last, meeting lier lolue eyes full, I said, " Something amuses mj cousin ; " slie answered, " I know why you wouldn't live here — you were afraid you would not be able to smoke." It would not do to admit such an impeach- ment as this ; I must either deal with the matter splendidly, or say nothing. So I assured Conny, in my loftiest manner, that she was quite in error; that I never for a moment doubted that I should be received and treated — as I had been — with delightful kindness ; that my reason for declining her papa's and mamma's offer, was my disinclination to burden their home wdth the presence of a bachelor, whose ways and habits — here I repeated what I had before said to my aunt ; taking care, however, to exhibit those " ways and habits," to J/r rXCLE'S SCHEME. wlucli I alluded in a lio-lit that could not foil to make them imposing and lordly, and precisely such characteristics as would naturally belong to a young gentleman who had mingled all his life in the society of men of hio'h birth and distinguished positions. ^ly uncle wanted to accompany me to my lodg:ino;s, and " see me comfortable for the night," as he said ; and my aunt encom-aged him to do so. But I was firm — I said no. I would not hear of his leaving the house to be my com- panion in a long drive through the night-air. I had my way ; and my port- manteau being hoisted into the phaeton, I followed it amid a chorus of good- nights, and hopes that I would sleep well. The road to Updown was pretty hilly. 84 l^fY UNCLE'S SCHEME. but smootli and good : and, in a very short time, the little mare had rattled US into the High Street. James had his directions, and presently pulled up before a detached house, in which, he informed me, were my lodgings. I pushed open the garden gate and knocked at the door. After a pretty long interval, a key was turned, a chain unslipped, a bolt svith- drawn, and an elderly woman, with a candle over her head, stood forth. I told her who I was ; whereupon she dropped me a curtsey, and said she had quite given me up for that day. James brought in my portmanteau, and went away, thanking me for a little trifle I gave him. The elderly woman then con- ducted me into a good-sized parlour, which she said was my sitting-room, very comfortably furnished, with a good large MY UNCLE'S SCHEME. 85 sofa in it, that took my fancy mightily. She then led me to my bed-room, and this apartment I also found unexception- able in all points. She asked me if I would take tea, and on my saying yes, she went away to prepare it, whilst I unpacked my portmanteau. When I re- turned to the parlour, I found it cheerful and brilliant, with a fine old-fashioned oil lamp ; the tea-things were on the table, •and the pretty crockery made me feel as much at home as if I had lodged with Mrs. Eeeves a year. So far everything that had befallen me was entirely to my taste. My uncle's recep- tion of me had been overpowering ; my aunt, it was plain, thought me a very fine and splendid person ; my cousin was pretty enough to make Updown a paradise ; and nothing could be more comfortable than 86 MY UNCLE'S SCHEME. my lodgings. After tea I liglitecl a pipe and stretclied myself along the sofa and thought over matters. It was, perhaps, all for the best that I had decided not to live at Grove End. I could keep up my dignity better by residing at a dis- tance. No doubt I should be asked there as often as I cared to be ; and I should certainly enjoy my kind-hearted relations' hospitality not the less because I could combine my privileges with personal inde- pendence. Conny ran in my head a good deal. What a little pet she was I I could love that girl, I thought. Who was Curling ? Did she like him ? He must be a very impertinent sort of fellow to think about her. I supposed that he had paid her attention, and as perhaps he was not entirely ugly, and as young men didn't JJT rXCLE'S SCHEME. 87 abound in tliese parts, she had talked a little nonsense about liim to her mamma, which had frightened the old lady. Pshaw ! thought I, what chance would Cuiiino- stand ao-ainst me if I took it into my head to unseat him ? What ! a banker's clerk, a man of pass-books and cancelled cheques against a gentle- man who knew nothing of business, who thought money an insufferable bore, and credit the easiest and most courtly way of suppl}TLng one's needs ; who was a man of the world, a great favourite with women, a good billiard player, and the friend, the intimate friend, of men who, were -it not for their tailors and hatters, would be makino- brilliant with, their j)i'esence and wit the high society from which the heartless dun or the yet more inexorable bailiff MY UNCLE'S SCHEME. liad obliged them to beat a precipitate retreat. I laughed at the absurdity of the idea. Why, in all probability, Conny was already in love with me. Of course they were talking about me at Grove End. Couldn't I hear my uncle exclaim, with pardonable exultation, " 3Ii/ nephew 1 " which meant, " See, my dears, what our side has pro- duced ! " And what could my aunt do but praise me and abuse Curling, and contrast my manners with the cashier's (Oh, humiliating comparison!), and wonder, with a sneer, whether Louis Napoleon would have pulled off his hat to Curhng's papa ? Risum teneatis, amici? asks Maunder's Treasury of Knowledge. I was Mr. Bottom, of the ass's ears, in those days. Behold my magnanimity ! I j)^^ll ''^J ancient MT UNCLE'S SCHEME. 89 character out of obscurity, as I would an old coat to dress a scarecrow withal, that it may be a warning and a horror to men. Only please don't confound the high- minded being who addresses you with the senseless, conceited dummy that idly flaps his useless arms about the fields. CHAPTER lY. " Tliere Thy uncle — this thy first cousin, and these Are all thy near relations." The Critic. I HAD breakfasted by nine tbe next morn- ing, and after a conversation mtli my landlady respecting matters of mucli too mean a nature to figure in tliis fastidious narrative, I filled my pij)e, put on my liat, and went out. The morning was lovely ; I never drew breath with a keener enjoyment of life ; the garden in front of Mrs. Reeves' house was small, but plentifully stocked ; the 3IY rXCLE'S SCHEME. 91 wall-flowers made the air delicious, and I could have very well passed a whole hour standing at the gate smoking my pipe, and watching the quiet interests with which the long street was peopled. AATiilst I lingered, debating which way I should go, I beheld a smart vehicle ■approaching, and recognised my uncle's phaeton. He was in it, and waved his hand to me. " Up already ! " he cried, springing briskly into the road. " Conny has lost a pair of gloves. She bet me that I should find you in bed." ^' She deserves to lose," said I, laughing, ^'for having such a bad opinion of me." " How did you sleep ? Did you like your rooms ? Is Mrs. Eeeves obliging ? Is your bed comfortable ? " were some among the many questions my imcle 92 MY UNCLE'S SCHEME. asked me in his cheery, cordial manner ; and hearing that I was perfectly satisfied and happy, he asked me what I meant to do ? I told him that I was about to take a walk and see the town. " Come, first, and let me show you the bank. We open at half-past nine." I put my pipe in my pocket, and scrambled up into the back seat, and away we clattered down the High Street, through the ancient gateway, and round the corner, stopping before a new building over which the word "Bank" was en- graved. My uncle led the way in. The ofiice was clean and new, and made fearfully business-like by a counter and high stools and advertisement-charts of insurance offices. A young man stepped from behind a ground-glass front, and my uncle introduced him to me as Mr. MY UNCLE'S SCHEME. 93 Curling. I bowed loftily, and fixed a scrutinising eye upon the young gentle- man. He was more cordial, and offered me his hand. "Glad to know you, Mr. Hargrave," said he. " I am much obliged to you," I replied. " Yonder is Mr. Spratling," said my uncle, smiling at the youth who had turned his head on hearing his name pro- nounced. I nodded, and Mr. Spratling stared. My uncle then went round the counter, calling to me to follow, and going up to a desk behind the ground- glass front, said, " This will be your place, Charlie," and watched my face ; but I said nothing, though I could have commented in very forcible terms upon the immense inconvenience it would be to me — a lounger born — of having to sit 94 2rY rXCLE'S SCHEME. on a liigli stool all day and write down dry bucolic names and rows of figures in a huge book called a ledger. My uncle tlien conducted me into bis private office at tbe back, and leaning against tbe table, asked me, with a rather humorous twinkle in his eye, " How my look-out struck me ? " '' I'll tell you what," I answered, seating myself, for it was always my opinion that you can't make a greater mistake than to stand when you can sit ; " I'll tell you what, uncle ; you are such a thoroughly good fellow, with so nice a sense of what is due to a gentleman, that I believe, after a little, I shall be able to endure this life. But in any other office than yours, vdih any other man but you over me, I could no more submit to have a counter placed between me and MY UNCLE'S SCHEME. 95 society, than I could submit to cleaning^ boots." He laughed heartily, and clapping me on the shoulder, exclaimed, *' I don't mean you to be a clerk ; all that I want you to do is to learn the business. I have plans for you, which both you and your father will like, I believe. But you must learn the business. I don't mean you to do any dry or mean work, such as collecting bills. Look over young Spratling's shoulder now and then, and observe what he is about. Pump Mr. Curling — he is good-natured and a smart hand — and get all the information you can out of him." " Oh, I will, with pleasure." " You needn't fear any ill-feeling. They know you are my nephew, and I have told them that your father has sent you 96 MY UNCLWS SCHEME. to me to learn business habits, and to qualify you for becoming — -well, I shall have more to say to you about the future before long. I have a good scheme in my head." "You are all kindness," I answered. *' Every moment I am with you makes me think of Longueville with less regret." " All right," he exclaimed, looking im- mensely gratified and amiable. " And now, as I told you last night, I don't want you to formally join us until Monday. You are under an engagement to my wife — who, I can assure you, has fallen in love mth you ! — to dine with us every day — that is, if you like ; and she takes you under her protection until Monday morning, when she will consign you to me. She has ordered the carriage at eleven, and means, I believe, to take you :^IY UNCLE'S SCHEJIE. 97 a, drive round the to^Ti, and sliow you what there is to be seen. The phaeton will convey you to Grove End." Here Mr. Spratling came in, and said Mr. Clover wanted an audience. I took my hat, but before I went out, my uncle called me back to whisper, '"You'll find a box of cigars in the library," and dis- missed me with a cheerful push. ]\Ir. Curling bowed as I passed out, and I retm'ned his salute politely. I felt more at my ease now that my uncle had told rae that these youno- men were to resfard me as a gentleman who had condescended to join the bank merely for the purpose of acquiring business habits. I cannot say that I thought Mr. Curling good- looking. His eyes indeed were not bad ; but he didn't look a manly sort of fellow. He was narrow and thin-breasted, VOL. I. H 98 3IY UNCLE'S SCEEME. and Lad curly black liair, which I detest. His teeth were good, and his smile so-so^ but his dress was outre, ill-fitting, and he wore a ring on the first finger of his right hand — the hand he wrote with, the finger he pointed with — which affected me more disagreeably than had he said " You was," and dropped his h's and g's. It was ridiculous to suppose that golden- haired Conny could see anything in such a man as that. As to Spratling, he looked a harmless little fellow ; his head and hands were immense, and his shoulders broad enough for a man of my father's height ; yet he might have walked under my arm. I cocked my hat as I strolled past the counter T\ith a slow and indolent step ; and stopped, when on the pavement, full in the sight of Mr. Curling, to light ]\IY UNCLE'S SCHEME. 99 a cigar, though I should have preferred a pipe. I then got into the phaeton, and was driven to Grove End. My aunt received me in the most gracious manner. The first question she asked me was, if I had breakfasted : and, on my replying in the affirmative, eagerly questioned me about my lodgings. AYas I quite sure I was comfortable, she wanted to know ; because, if I was not, there was a delightful bed-room, entirely at my service, at the back of the house, and she Avould give orders at once for it to be got ready. I hope I showed her that my gratitude was equal to her kindness. Indeed I was almost embar- rassed by the extraordinary civilities I had met with ; and, though I believe there was not another man in England, at that time, who had a better opinion 100 ]\IT UNCLE'S SCHEME. of liimself tlian I had, yet I must do myself tlie justice to declare that I did not conscientiously believe I deserved the kindness I received. Presently the door opened and in came Conny. She gave me her hand, which I raised to my lips. " That is a German fashion," said I, rather dismayed by her extravagant blush. "Is it ?" she answered, turning her head aside and looking half angry and half pleased. " I thought it wasn't English." " The French kiss each other on both cheeks, don't they?" inquired my aunt with naive interest. " The men do, and I also believe it is customary among lovers. But I fancy that the custom does not prevail amongst MY UNCLE'S SCHEME. 101 the married folks, from the story that is told of a Frenchman, who, hearing that a friend of his had kissed his T\ife, cried 'Qiooi! sans y etre oblige!''' You see, I meant to mingle sarcasm with humour, and to shine as a wit ; but to crack a joke with my aunt was like pulling a cracker at a sujDper-table with your partner, who gets only a piece of the paper, and leaves the sweetmeat and the motto T\ith you. "Dear me!" said she. "Now I should have thought such a custom would have been entirely confined to the married people." I looked at Conny. How was she dressed ? Now you want to puzzle me. "Was it black silk ? I believe it was. "Whatever the material, it was dark enough to set ofi" the trans^Dorting white- 102 IIY VNCLE'S SCHEME. ness of lier throat, and to make the curl that gleamed down her back shine (to use the language of an imitator of Ossian) like the lustrous wake of a meteor upon the midnight sky. "What pearly teeth ! What a surprisingly dainty complexion ! Where did this girl learn to dress her hair ? Never did I see hair so becomingly dressed. Is she to be my heroine ? Nous verrons ; but I rather fear, if she is to be my heroine, that hair of hers won't serve any dramatic exigencies. How could it flow, as all heroines' gold-coloured hair ought to flow, at an instant's notice, in a bright cloud over a pillar of a man's throat, if it is dressed so well and firmly ? All we dare hope is that w^e shall meet with no pillars (columns I think they call them) for Conny's hair to flow over. But if a column or a pillar of a throat luill MY UNCLE'S SCHEME. 103 interfere, in spite of our earnest remon- strances, let us at least trust that the hair-pins will do their duty, and maintain the respectability of passion by holding the pads and puffs and frizettes in their proper places. "I hope," said I, following her to the window, "that my foreign manners haven't ruined me in your good opinion?'' " I told you last night that cousins are privileged." "They ought to be." " Are you going for a drive with us ? " "Yes, if I may." " Oh, mamma ordered the carriage ex- pressly for you." I turned to mamma, who sat smiling at us, behind our backs, and thanked her. " I thought you would like to see the town, ]\Ir. Charles." 104. MY FXCLE'S SCHEME. ''Pray call me Charlie/' said I, "or your example will give Conny an excuse to treat me T\'itli reserve. You see how familiarly I name her. But I got her leave to do so." '' Oh, cousins ought always to be on the very best terms ! Aren't they made of the same flesh and blood?" said my aunt. " Of course they are/' I replied. " Conny/' said her mamma, " will you go and get ready for the drive, so that you can show Mr. , I mean Charlie, over the grounds, while I put on my things ? " "Yes," answered Conny, and went out. My aunt chatted about a variety of commonplaces ; and my sense of self- complacency, which, God knows, was already impertinent enough, was not a MY UNCLE'S SCHEME. 105 little heiglitened by the marked deference and laboured urbanity of her manner to me. Had I been a prince of the blood royal, I don't think she could have shown herself more flattered by my con- versation, and more obliged by my con- descension. There could be no doubt that her husband had inspired her with the most extravagant conceptions of the importance and splendour of his brother, the major. The pride of relationship, when there is anything to be proud of, is a sentiment, Eugenio, which springs eternal in all human breasts ; it enables wives to snub their husbands with ap- plause, and husbands to humiliate their wives with impunity ; it gives impor- tance to poverty and dignity to vul- garity ; it embroiders the rags of the beggar, and justifies the impertinencies of 106 MY UNCLE'S SCHEME. unresisting imbecility. No, Eugenio, I am not quoting from '' Easselas." This is all my own thunder. When Conny came in my aunt left the room. " Pray forgive me," said I, " but, really, that is a lovely little hat you have on." " I am glad you like it," answered my €Ousin, looking at herself in the glass. " All feminine attire is becoming that looks saucy. Don't you think so ? " " Is this hat saucy ? " *' Very. There is a knowing expression about the feather, as though it has just been pulled out of a peacock's tail, and the eye hasn't had time to stop winking." " What an odd idea ! but this isn't a peacock's feather ! " What ! was she going to prove as literal as her mamma ? Defend it, ye Nine ! 2IY rXCLE'S SCEEMB. 107 '' And then/"' I went on, '"' tliere is an audacity about tlie ciu've of tlie Lrim, that fills me vritli iiTepressible deliglit. Let me assure you, dtar cousin, that it is the very hat of all the hats that ever were made, which you ought to wear."' '•' It was my choice,'' said she, looking at me as though she were a little afraid. " But the carriage will soon be ready, and mamma wanted me to show you over the grounds before we di^ove out."' '' I would much rather sit here with you," I replied. '* I can look at the grounds this afternoon." "As you please," said she prettily, seat- in o- herself in her mamma "s chaii'. o She fronted the window, in consequence the light was full upon her face, and I was able to see every expression that rose and faded in it. 108 MT UNCLE'S SCHEME. " Your father introduced me to the bank this morning/' said I, fixing my eye upon her. "Yes?" " I had the honour of making the acquaintance of Mr. Curling." I expected to see her wince and change colour. On the contrary, she remained perfectly impassive. She did not even ask me what I thought of him, or if I liked him, or anything about him. All she said was, " I hope you and he will get on together. He seems a very nice sort of young man." Love prompts a thousand absurdities ; but never in all my experience of life could I conceive a girl calling the object of her afi"ection "a nice young man." The phrase smote me as the death-knell of Curling's hopes, if he had any. MY rXCLE'S SCHEME. 109 " I don't very mucli care about nice young men," I answered. " I liave been bred in a land of piquant sauces and thickly pej)pered dishes, and like things well flavoured. A nice person is a boiled character which you have to discuss with- out salt." '' I know what you mean," she ex- claimed gaily. "Mr. Meek, our doctor here, is a boiled character, full of what papa calls negative excellence, which means thorough insipidity." I was much gratified to find her capable of appreciating my jokes. It did seem impossible that such demure, sweet, in- telligent eyes as hers should be the windows of a sluggish, dull nature. I was resolved to try her a little more on the subject of the cashier. "Your father o-ave me to understand 110 MY JJNGLWS SCEJEJME. tliat Mr. Curling was good-looking. How people differ in their tastes ? Now I think Mr. Curling anything but good looking." "He is very thin." " Very ; one thing I noticed, the cock- neyfication of his person by a big rinof on his first fino-er. These fellows ouo'ht to o;o abroad now and then. O CD ' Home keeping youths have ever homely wits.'" "But don't you know what another poet says ? 'What learn our youtli abroad but to refine. Tbe homely vices of their native land ? Give me an honest, home- spun country clown Of our own growth ; his dulness is but plain, But their 's embroidered ; they are sent out fools But come back fops ! ' " " God bless me 1 " said I uncomfortably ; MY rXCLE'S SCHEME. Ill " what a memory yon have ! Who T\Tote that rubbish?" '•' I fororet. It was a school exercise, and that is how I happen to know it." "I hope yon have no more pat quota- tions at vour fino'er ends." "Xo. What other poetry I know is all sentimental." " Ah ! " I exclaimed, " I am very fond of sentimental poetry — Moore's for in- stance." ^' I wonder, ^ith your refined taste,, that you could ever tolerate the notion of settling; into a banker's clerk." Was she ironical ? Was she sarcastic ? Her eyes were all innocence ; her face all candour. " It is not the choice of my will, but of my poverty. Xature made me a gen- tleman, but foro'ot to endow me. There- 112 MY UNCLE'S SCHEME. fore tliere is nothing for me to do, but to forget lier good intentions and learn book-keeping." Here slie looked at tbe clock, and as she did so her mamma came rustling and swelling in, decked out in a fine bonnet, new gloves, and a stiff blue silk gown. "Haven't you been to see the grounds, Charlie ? " she asked. " I have been very well entertained," I replied with a smile at Conny. " There's the carriage ! " exclaimed my €ousin, and a barouche with two horses, driven by my friend James in silver livery, swept along the avenue and stopped at the door. " We have lost our footman," said my aunt, apologetically, as we passed out, *'but I hope to replace him next week." jrr rxcLE's schfme. 113 I beo^sfed her not to mention it : we got in, and oflF we went. I faced Conny, and was tliU3 able to alternate luxuriously between tlie beauties of nature and tbe beauties of human nature. When we reached Updo^ii, James was requested to drive slowly, in order that I mieht "view" the to^Ti. It tamed out that my aunt was a native of the place, and knew a good deal of its history, social and otherwise. The carriage was stopped at the huge gate- way at the bottom of the High Street, that I might decipher the inscription, and admire the carvings. Unfortunately the inscription was in Latin, vnih v's for u's. I did not understand it, but as I had always been given to believe that a knowledge of the dead tongues was esteemed a very essential ingredient in YOL. I. I 114 MY UNCLE'S SCHEME. the composition of a gentleman's character, I looked wise, and talked much nonsense about the unintelligibility of mediaeval Latin. " They say," observed my aunt, " that this gate was built by the Eomans." '' Oh, that must be a mistake," I answered, ''for don't you see the date MDCLI?" which was the only part of the inscription I could read. " The writing says that the gateway was restored in that year," said Conny, quietly. " What ! do you understand Latin ? " I asked. "No. Mr. Curling told me." My aunt tossed her head, and ex- claimed, "I am sure Mr. Curling can't read Latin." '' Lideed he can I " returned Conny, MT UNCLE'S SCEE3IE. 115 looking for an instant with, her deep, deep eyes, at her mamma, and then letting them drop with a little smile. " James, drive on ! " cried ]\Irs. Har- grave. Had JMr. Curling's head been under our wheels, I believe at that moment I should have sat through the jump of the carriage unmoved. Was my aunt's suspicion right ? did Conny care about that lean young man at the bank ? Suppose he could read Latin — what then ? I daresay he had bragged of this solitary achievement to my cousin, and she had mentioned it first to pique her mother. I looked at her, and then at my aunt, and then pretended to fall into a rapture over an old gable-peaked house with latticed windows, and a porch sur- 116 MY UNCLE'S SCHEME. mounted by an effigy of Time. The town abounded in venerable structures of this kind; but tlie builders were busy in the suburbs, and the country outside was dotted with little stucco residences, squares of plaster, coloured like gingerbread — advertised as charming homes for newly- married couples — poor wretches ! My relations received several bows during our progress through the streets, and — I say this without vanity — I was a good deal stared at. I know nothing more ludicrous than bucolic curiosity. I was incessantly laughing to see some old man or woman turn slowly to look after us, as if our carriage were a magnet, and their noses were steel, and gaze until we were out of sight. " How do the people amuse themselves all day long ? " I asked. MY UNCLE'S SCHEME. 117 Conny had no idea. " Are any balls or dinner-parties ever given ? " "No," ansTvered my aunt, emphatically. " Society here is very mean and close. The only parties that are given are by new-comers. But they soon find out that it is a one-sided amusement, and drop it. A call is all the return people think of making." " At Longueville," said I, " we are dancing all the year round. What with fetes cliampetres, and balls at VInstitution de Bienfaisance, and private parties, one never has an evening to one's self." This was stretching a small truth into colossal dimensions ; but as Dr. Primrose says, " I was never much displeased with those harmless delusions that tend to make us more happy." And it certainly 118 MY UNCLE'S SCHEME. made me liappy to increase my impor- tance in my aunt's and Conny's eyes. We got out of the town into tlie country, and I was not sorry for the change. My aunt had so much to say about Updown, that I got bored with her recollections before we reached the top of High Street. Now carrots and corn-fields have no social and historical associations ; and when we got among the trees, her memory slackened, and enabled me to talk ^ith Conny. Considering I had met her for the first time in my life only on the afternoon of the previous day, I don't know what right I had to possess an intense longing to ask her if she was in love with ]\Ir. Curling. Her sentiments ought to have been nothing to me. But they were. Indeed, I discovered at this very early MY UNCLE'S SCHEME. 119 stage, that I took a profound interest in them. I noticed one thing ; my aunt seemed thoroughly well pleased with the attention I paid her daughter, and with the unaffected admiration that overspread my face when I looked at her. My con- ceit made it a mere matter-of-course, that both Mr. and Mrs. Hargrave would be transported with joy, and rendered giddy vdih emotions of pride, were I to give them to understand that Conny was agree- able to me, and that I would not mind marrying her. But I was not so sure that Conny herself would share in their delirium. She rather puzzled me. Some- times I thought her shy and simple. Sometimes she confounded me with a sudden sally — a smart retort — a pat allusion, apt, shrewd and well-timed enough to reverse my judgment, and set me 120 MY UNCLE'S SCHEME. speculating on lier real character. If slie meant me to fall in love witli her, she was going the right way to work. Pique your man, Clorinda, before you angle for him. The cleverest fishers among you always summon the sentiments with ground-bait before they throw the hook in. V CHAPTEE V. " I look upon this as one of the fortunate days of your life. It ends an epoch and begins one. Hitherto the life-blood has been gi^adually chilling in your veins, as you sat aloof within your circle of gentility, while the rest of the world was fighting out its battle with one kind of necessity or another. Henceforth you will at least have the sense of natural and healthy effort for a purpose, and of lending your strength — be it great or small — to the united struggle of mankind." Tlte Souse of the Seven Gables. Foe the rest of the week I was every day at Grove End. I took long walks \sith Conny and her mamma, drove T^-ith them, wandered about the grounds, which were tolerably extensive and well wooded, 122 j\IY UNCLE'S SCHEME. smoked incessantly, listened to Conny playing tlie piano, read the papers, ^Yrote to my father and to Lord Towers, whose reply I was anxious that my relations should see, and was, altogether, so per- fectly contented, that I should have viewed my return to Longueville as a calamity. But where is the ointment without a fly in it ? Where is the feast without a death's head ? I confess I regarded the prospect of mounting the high stool I had seen in the bank, and becoming the friend and colleague of Mr. Spratling, of the big head, and of Mr. Curling, of the cockneyfied forefinger, with little satisfac- tion. I felt myself much too fine a fellow to do the work that Curling and Sprat- ling did. I had sometimes a hope that my aunt would snatch me from my fate. MY UNCLE'S SCHEME. 123 j)oint out to lier husband that my elegance might be damaged by a collision with coarse business details, and urge him either to adopt me, or to invent some graceful scheme for supplying me ^ith money. However, it was out of my power to hint at such a measure ; which I then considered a very great misfortune. I accompanied the family to church on Sunday. It was enough that I should be a stranger to get stared at. The con- gregation was almost entirely composed of old men and women — I don't think I saw one young man. I must except Mr. Curling, who looked down upon us from the gallery : and, perhaps I may have indulged in a secret chuckle, when I thought if he were really in love with Conny, how mad he would be to see her and me bending over the hjnnn-book 124 MY UNCLE'S SCHEME. together, and praying side by side. I didn't catch Conny looking at him once, which put me into a very good temper. The rector dined T^dth ns that day : a sober-faced, square-bodied man, who spoke in measured accents, and wore a beard. He professed to know Paris well, and asked me, in French, if I had ever dined at Philippe's, in so vile an accent, that I could scarcely answer him for fear of bursting into a laugh. I observed by my aunt's and uncle's treatment of him, that they thought him a very consider- able person ; by which they paid me no compliment ; for of what w^orth is the admiration that can fasten itself upon a being who has nothing in the ^'ide world to recommend him, " but his calling 1 " Set a thief to catch a thief! In a very MY UNCLE'S SCHEME. 125 short time I found out that he was a boaster, and one egregious slip put him completely at my mercy. But I spared him : my idea being that every gentle- man is bound to consider clergymen and women as being under his particular protection. I awoke next morning thoroughly out of conceit with myself My uncle had asked me to be at the bank at half-past nine ; and, whilst I shaved, I reflected, with much bitterness, upon the indignity to which necessity obliged me to submit. Had anybody asked me which I would rather be, a groom or a banker's clerk, I should have answered, a groom. Dis- tressed noblemen had driven coaches, and hungry baronets had, before now, curried horses for hire. But a banker's clerk — faugh ! Lady Cliffeton would cut 126 MY UNCLE'S SCHEME. me dead were she to be told of it, I thought : and, in imagination, I could hear Lord Towers in the finical, mincing accent I had so often fruitlessly attempted to get, denying that he had ever kno\\Ti me. However, in spite of my distress, I was punctual, and got to the bank before my uncle. Mr. Curling stretched his hand across for me to shake, and asked me to step round. I eyed the counter with abhorrence, walked haughtily around it, and having gained the other side, felt that I had raised between me and society an obstacle which nothing short of a change of name would enable me to sur- mount. Mr. Spratling, bo^dng his head over his big ledger, scribbled furiously, and took no notice of me. I asked Mr. Curling if smoking was allowed on the MY UNCLE'S SCHEME. 127 premises. He replied, witli mucli diffi- dence, " I think not." "What is my work to be?" I enquired. " From what Mr. Hargrave said," he replied, " I don't think you will be re- quired to do anything. However, I presume you are here to learn the business ; and if I can be of any use to you, I shall be only too glad." I thanked him, and replied that it was my wish to learn the business, and to do my share of the work. I couldn't say less. "There is very little to be done," he answered. " Our customers are a very quiet set. Most of our accounts are deposits ; and our discount business is by no means large. Market days are our heaviest time. The farmers then pay in." " What do you call deposit accounts ? '* 128 2IY UNCLE'S SCHEME. "Accounts that are left in our liands not to be drawn upon without notice. "We allow interest on them." "And what is interest?" Here Mr. Spratling uttered a faint groan of laughter. Mr. Curling looked fiercely in his direction, and said, "In- terest is a sum of money allowed by us for the use of the moneys left in our liands. The rate is regulated by the Bank of England. But all these things are very simple matters : and I don't doubt that you will have them at your finger ends in a very short time." I must confess that he spoke very nicely ; and I felt that if he would only pull that atrocious ring off his fore-finger, I might not find him so objectionable as I had feared. Nor was he so plain, now that I examined him closely. He IIY UNCLE'S SCHEME. 129 certainly had good eyes and teeth, and there was a delicacy in his hands which even his ring could not deform. But his dress was very clerkly, consisting of a long frock coat, which he wore open, and a waistcoat buttoned up to his throat, scarcely showing a spotted cotton cravat, ornamented vntli a pin. The back of his head, moreover, was a convexity of black friz. On the other hand, his voice was pleasing, and his manners sufficiently easy. Before long my uncle bustled into the bank, and on catching sight of me called out in his cheery way, "There you are, •Charlie ! How are you ? " and came behind the counter and shook hands. " Now," said he, taking me aside, *' what I want to impress upon you is this : master the details of banking as YOL. I. K 130 MT UNCLE'S SCHEME. quickly as yon can, and try and like your work. Before long I shall liope to be able to convince you tliat it will be well worth your while to apply yourself. In reality there is very little to learn. The mere clerkly portion of the business is nothing ; any ploughboy could be taught it in a week. The banker's real needs are, a good address, thorough ami- ability, a high sense of honour, and a good knowledo'e of human nature. You understand ? " '' Perfectly ; and I may hope that I am not deficient in some of the qualifi- cations you speak of" " Indeed you are not. Where you are at present wanting, is in what I must call practicality. You will' have to fight against some difficult prejudices which you have brought with you out of your J/r UNCLirS SCHEME, 131 life in Longueville. But," he continued, clapping me on the shoulders, '' in spite of some little weaknesses, there is enough in you to persuade me that you will do very well." He then went into his private room. I almost forget how that day passed. I had a seat on a high stool near Mr. Curling's desk, and I remember that from time to time he would turn to explain something in connexion ^ith the business, which, he told me, was im- portant to know. He went about his work diligently and steadily, and par- ticularly amazed me by the extraordinary capacity he manifested of counting any amount of money in an incredibly short space of time. Threepenny and four- penny-bits, half-sovereigns and half-crowns, shillings and two-shilling-pieces, discharged 132 JiT UNCLE'S SCHEME. out of the queer old bags in which the customers brought their hoards, fled like lightning, under his nimble fingers, up into a corner where they arranged them- selves in piles. Nor was his perception of a bad or doubtful coin less remarkable. Now and then he would stay his mira- culous counting to examine a piece of money, give it a sharp ring, fling it aside, and proceed in his work like a machine. "If I were to live a thousand years,'' I thought, "and were I to devote twelve hours of the day to counting money, I should never be able to do what that fellow does." I expressed my surprise, and he asked me to try my hand on two pounds of silver. It took me ^ve minutes to tell twenty pieces. " Pshaw ! " said I, turn- MY UNCLE'S SCHE3IE. 133 ing away, when he showed me that I made eighteen shillings represent a pound, "this is somebody else's work, for it cer- tainly isn't mine." And then I began to talk of the superiority of the French over the English money. Mr. Spratling worked like an automaton. I thought his zeal contemptible, and won- dered that any human being should be gifted ^T-th so little tact as not to know how to qualify the vulgarity of labour with an occasional dash of the gentility of indolence. But speaking of him when he had gone out at one o'clock to get his dinner, my opinion of the youth was greatly improved, by Mr. Curling telling me that he got eighty pounds a year, on which he su]3ported his blind mother, who had no other resources but her child's salary. 134 MY UNCLE'S SCHEME. '' By George ! " I exclaimed, " lie is a worthy young man; and if I have any influence with my uncle, I'll get his salary raised to a hundred pounds." I don't know how it came about, but I have a clear recollection of leaving the bank at four o'clock, in a much more subdued mood than I had entered it. I was under an engagement to my aunt to dine at Grove End, but I felt so tired, after my long and unaccustomed confine- ment to one room, that I begged my uncle to excuse me to her. Why was I subdued? Perhaps because I was tired. Does physical weariness take the conceit out of one ? if so, here you have a reason for the change in me. I am willing to look a little deeper, and attribute it to a feeling of, perhaps, the only whole- some pride that had ever stirred me ; MY UNCLE'S SCHEME. 135 the pride of having been honestly occu- pied. I left Mr. Curling still busy with his accounts, but he had told me there was no . need for me to stay. I walked home to my lodgings and dined off a chop and half a pint of sherry, and then putting a pipe in my mouth, strolled out in the direction of the green lanes. I was not much of a moralist in those days, but my mood ha23pening to be a pliant one, certain thoughts seized the opportunity to intrude themselves and beget sundry reflections. I asked myself if I was not carrying my notions of gentility a little too far ; if I was not making a very grave blunder in conveying the impression that I considered myself too good and fine to engage in work in which hundreds of men, in every sense 136 MY UNCLE'S SCHEME. my equals, and in many senses my betters, were employed ? I enquired of my common sense whether it were possible for a gentleman — I don't say a real gentleman, for I am aware of only one kind — to lose caste by adopting any pursuit in which he could preserve his honour and possess his proper dignity securely ? Was not an assumed ignorance of the essential, if common-place, interests of life a very impertinent coxcombry ? Should I not be asserting myself as a very despicable kind of fop if I professed to look with contempt on a vocation of which I had not pride enough to restrain me from pocketing the profits ? I don't pretend to say that I answered these questions in a manner such as a severe moralist would aj)prove. My self- conceit was too tenacious of bfe to be MY UNCLE'S SCHEME. 137 killed by a single blow, and my pre- judices were of too old a growth to be tamed by a single wise reflection. I merely wdsli to exhibit myself as having been capable of sometimes thinking cor- rectly, however long it may have taken me to bend my character into a con- formity with my better thoughts. I so thoroughly enjoyed the fresh air and the exquisite serenity of that May evening, that, though you may conceive I thought a good deal about Conny, I don't remember once regretting that I had not gone to Grove End. It is good for man to be sometimes alone. I am pretty certain that my sohtary walk was more beneficial to me than a long evening's coquetting with my sweet cousin would have been. Besides, I felt it only right that I should not avail myself too 138 MY VNCLW8 SCHEME. persistently of my kind relations' hospi- tality. As I entered a lane ricli with evening shadows, and cool with the fairy foliage of high and stately trees, I saw in ad- vance of me a young man supporting on his arm an elderly woman, whose hesi- tating step persuaded me that she was blind. I could not help taking notice of the peculiar and loving care with which her companion directed her; and I was speculating on his aspect, which struck me as familiar, when he looked round and disclosed the features of Mr. Sprat- ling. I waved my hand to him and he nodded ; and, not choosing to pass them, I halted, and pretended to examine the country through the trees. I watched them covertly, with increasing respect and admiration for the obvious tender- MY UNCLE'S SCHEME. 139 ness and love of the young fellow for Lis helpless mother, until they were out of sight, and then leisurely retraced my steps, made pensive by regret that ever I should have thought this young man, who possessed in his rugged and stunted form a deeper and lovelier humanity than ever I could have dreamt of, unfit to be a fellow-labourer of mine. CHAPTER VI. " TVTien a man loves tenderly as I do, solicitude and anxiety are natural." All in the Wrong. You T\'i]I kindly imagine, on commencing tliis cliapter, tliat I have been three weeks at the bank. My progress during this time was not very remarkable ; but I was beginning to understand a good deal that had threatened to remain for ever unintelligible to me. I could now add up a pretty long row of figures, without being thro^m by the efi'ort into great mental distress and confusion ; I MY UNCLE'S SCHEME, 141 began to understand why Mr. Jones was allowed to overdraw liis account, when Mr. Eobinson's cheques were dismissed with two terrible letters, or a mild "please refer to drawer." I knew the object of pass-books, and the difference between current and deposit accounts. I could also comprehend the pm^port and import of bills, promissory notes, and such-like documents ; and why Mr. Brown, the rich grazier, who didn't particularly want money, was charged one per cent, above the Bank rate if he borrowed, and why ]\Ir. Smith, who very particularly wanted money, was charged four, and even five per cent, above the Bank rate if he borrowed. For all this increasing knowledge of mine, I was not a little indebted to Mr. Curling, whom to recompense for his very 142 3IY UNCLE'S SCHEME. obliging disposition, I did my utmost to like. But whether it was owing to that unfortunate ring of his, or to his curly black hair, or to the cut of his clothes, or to a lurking suspicion that he was in love with Conny, I never could succeed in transforming my gratitude into a feel- ing of friendship. We had no sympathies in common. He once asked me to take a walk with him, and I went; but I passed a very stupid time. He could scarcely talk upon any other subject than business and bank rates, and stock lists and exchange prices. AVhen by a very free discussion of my own affairs, I invited him to be equally candid, I found him excessively cautious. He listened to and encouraged me in my gossip about my father and my life at Longueville, but somehow contrived without positively HfY UNCLE'S SCHEME. US seeming, to be absolutely silent on the subject of liis own history. He had lodo:ino;s near the bank, and out of curiosity I accepted his invitation one day to spend an evening with him. I found that he didn't smoke. He pretended to like the smell of my pipe, but I was so sure that he did not, that I put it aside, and he didn t ask me to resume it. He had only one room. His bed was up in the corner ; there were some books on the mantelpiece, and writing materials on a table near the window. He apologised for the meanness of his accommodation^ and told me he had no other resources outside his salary, which was the only piece of personal information that, I think, I ever succeeded in getting from him. I had tried several times since I had known him to induce him to talk about Conny, 144 3/Y UXCLE'S SCHEME. in order to ascertain what liis sentiments really were towards lier ; but he was never to be coaxed out of liis shell. I rather hoped, now, that the whiskey-and- water would make him more candid ; and, not without tact, turned the conversation upon my cousin. But he had one of those foldino' minds which, like the tubes of a telescope, slide deftly one within another, so that, without appearing to evade me, he yet succeeded in com- pressing himself entirely out of my reach. He asked me a week or two afterwards to spend another evening with him ; but I declined under some pretence or other, and he never repeated his invitation. Meanwhile, I was a constant visitor at Grove End. My aunt and uncle never varied in their kindness. Indeed, had not the former been old enough to be my lilY UNCLE'S SCHEME. 145 mother, I miglit fairly have considered that she was head over ears in love with me. She was perpetually referring to me for my opinions ; seemed indeed to regard me as the very glass of fashion and the mould of form, and to accept me as an unerring standard of breeding and taste. She was never more proud than when she had me by her side in the carriage, and returned the bows of her friends in the street. I should have been fearfully dull, but for Grove End. A more dead-and-alive town than UpdowTi I very much question if even Wales could produce. Not so much as a street organ found its way there. The only excitement that ever I heard of was a magic lantern, the pro- perty of the rector, who now and then lent it out, when the Charity School VOL. I. L 146 MY UNCLE'S SCHEME. children stood in need of a little recreation. It is very true that the surrounding country was beautiful, and there was some fishing to be had in the river. But I am one of those people who soon get tired of natural scenery. Nothing is prettier to read about than cool glades, and sunny hay-fields, and the smell of violets, and the lazy lowing of cattle, and the metallic echo of the scythe being sharpened, and the songs of the rustics. A gentleman will sit down in the library of his club in Piccadilly, and declare himself, amid a glowing description of rural beauties, an ardent admirer of the country, which he never explores further than Eichmond. I remember some verses written by Captain Morris, which my father, who had known the author, was very fond of quoting : MY UNCLE'S SCHEME. 147 "Your magpies and stock-doves may flirt amono* trees And chatter their transports in groves if they please ; But a house is much more to my taste than a tree, And for groves ! oh ! a fine grove of chimneys for I say that I should have been sick of Upclo^Ti and the natural scenery around it in less than a week, had it not been for Grove End. But there I found a human interest, powerful enough to inform the country for miles round with an extra- ordinary attraction. Yes, Eugenio ! before I had known my cousin three w^eeks I was in love with her. How could I look into her fathomless blue eyes, and not sink deep — deep — deep out of sight ? How could I take her little snow-white hand and not wish to hold it for ever ? My aunt encouraged me. 148 MY UNCLE'S SCHEME. It was her fault. I noticed that she was always fond of leaving Conny and me alone ; that she contrived that Conny and I should sit side by side at the dinner- table ; and that Conny should accompany us in our drives, which we used to take after the bank was closed, the carriage often calling for me at my lodgings. I remember one fine evening at the latter end of June, that I left the draw- ing-room and strolled on to the lawn, and seated myself under a fine old oak tree. I wanted Conny to join me, and hoped she would take the hint, or that her mamma would send her with a cigar ; for as I have said, Mrs. Hargrave took great pleasure in seeing us together. I made up my mind, if Conny came, to tell her that I loved her. I was sufiering at that moment from an access. Everybody MY UNCLE'S SCHEME. 149 knows that love is an intermittent fever, and that the delirium is very powerful at times. I had sat next to her at table ; I had said something soft to her, and lo ! she had turned her eyes slowly up to mine. Heavens ! what did I read there ? A sensibility that transported me ! Could I question that my unspoken love was recognised and shared ? Oh, Eugenio ! either hold thy tongue, or agree with me instantly, that the spirit hath a voice which makes itself audible to the spirit of the beloved, albeit no human language is uttered. Of course the eyes can talk. They are faculties given to women to convey thoughts which all the terms and all the definitions in Dr. Johnson's Dictionary put together, could never ex- press. I had read a profound and in- spiring truth in Conny's eyes. Her 150 MT UNCLE'S SCHEME, tongue could no more have said it tlian my eyes could have looked it, beautiful and piercing as my poor fat Pauline used to consider them. That truth had sent me to the old oak tree, and now kept me pensively waiting for her to come forth. But her mother came instead. The kind old lady stepped on to the lawn, and seeing me, approached and took a seat at my side. "Why, how is it you are not smoking?" ske asked. "The fact is," I answered, " I— I— to tell you the truth, I don't know." " Isn't this a beautiful evening ?" "Beautiful indeed." "Would you care to go back to Lon- gueville ? " she inquired, rather slyly, I thought. irY UNCLE'S SCHEME. 151 I looked her full in tlie face, and slie laughed. " I don't think you would." " No, indeed. I am perfectly satisfied to remain where I am." " Thomas says you are getting on bravely at the bank. I know he is very anxious that you should learn : for he has some scheme for you, which he won't tell me. You see, mves don't always know their husbands' affairs." " I know he has some scheme, and I am sure it is a generous one. I am getting on — thanks to Mr. Curling, I know a good deal now, though, when I first beo;an, I thouo-ht I should never be able to learn the work." "What do you think of this Mr. Curling ? Do you like him ? " 152 MT UNCLE'S SCHEME. " I oiTglit to : lie deserves that I should." "Well," said my aunt, "/ don't. I am sure he is a very sly person, and I dislike slyness in man or woman. When he visited this house he used to pay Conny a great deal of attention, but always in a sly way. In doing so, he took a very great liberty, considering his position in life, although my husband laughs at me, and declares that I troubled myself more than the occasion needed." *' Mr. Curling is certainly no match for Conny," said I. " Match ! " cried my aimt, warmly, " I should think not. Why, all that we know of him is, that he comes from London, from which place he answered an advertisement that Thomas put in the papers for a clerk. I have no wish to H^IY UNCLE'S SCHEME. 153 say anything harsh of the young man ; but he obliges me to think of what he is when he pays my daughter atten- tion." *' I can't make head or tail of him," I answered. *' I have frequently tried to get him to talk about Conny, but he always contrives to glide away from the subject." " Yes, yes ! he is sly — I have always said he is sly." "But, after all, aunt, what matters it if Mr. Curling does admire Conny ? People can only be prevented from touching — not from looking." "Oh, Mr. Curling is welcome to admire," replied my aunt, with pleasant disdain. "All that I want to be assured of is, that Conny doesn't care about him." " I don't think she does ; at least," I 154 MY UNCLE'S SCHEME. added, with a twdnge of jealousy, '^ slie lias never given me to understand by word or look tliat she cares a farthing for him. If I thought she did " " What ? " asked my aunt anxiously, seeing that I paused. "No matter," I answered gloomily, folding my arms Lara-wise. "I hope, Charlie, you have no reason to fear she does like that young man ? If I really believed this to be the case, I should desire my husband to dismiss him at once. I w^ouldn't have such a scandal — no ! not to save my life." " My dear aunt, it is you who make me suspicious. / myself have heard and seen nothing. They don't write to each other, I suppose ? " ]\IY UXCLE'S SCEE2IE. 155 " Write ! I should think not ! " " And tliey never meet each other •alone ? " *' Certainly not." " Then I hardly see that there is any- thing to fear. If Conny were in love with Curling — the mere idea puts me in a passion ! — I say, if Conny were silly enough to waste her priceless affection on a fellow of that kind, you would soon find it out. Something or other would happen. Either she'd meet him alone and be seen, or one of their letters would be intercepted." " Yes, the mere idea is enough to put one in a passion. As to her meeting him alone or writing to him, that is out of the question. She is my child, and I can answer for her conduct." 156 MY UNCLE'S SCHEME. '' Oh, she tells her own story. She is deliciously artless and womanly, and in- expressibly jDretty." " She is as God made her," said my aunt, meekly. " My father would be charmed with her. After a course of sophistication, such as you meet with among French women, such English simplicity, such quiet artless sweetness as Conny's is a pure luxury." "You and she get on very well to- gether, don't you V " I should be very miserable if I thought she didnt like me." " You needn't be," answered my aunt, with a smilino; nod, "for I know she does like you." " Eeally I " I cried, with a dramatic start. IfY TJNCLWS SCHEME. 157 " Why shouldn't she ? " and here she paid me a compliment I need not repeat. " Pray spare my lovely blushes," I said, laughing. *'But it doesn't follow because you are so kind as to like me that Conny should. Mothers and daughters seldom agree in taste " Here, unfortunately, my uncle came out, followed by Conny, just as our con- versation was growing thrillingly interest- ing. But for this interruption, I should have told my aunt that I was in love with her daughter, asked her consent, and inquired whether she thought a proposal for marriage would be agreeable to my uncle. As for her, I had eyes to see, and ears to hear, and therefore knew that she was decidedly in my favour, and needed no entreaty to become my warm ally. It was plain that ]\Ir. Cmiing was 158 MY UNCLE'S SCHEME. a nio'htmare of liers, and had I been a trickster, nothing would have been easier for me than to have played upon her fears, and compassed my ends speedily through them. But I had too good an opinion of myself to condescend to strata- gems of any kind. Conny should love me for myself — not through any compul- sion on her mamma's part. As yet, I was practically ignorant of her feelings towards me ; a certain theory had indeed been inspired by her eyes ; but talk as you t\tl11 of the language of the soul, we are never heartily satisfied until we have listened to the language of the lips. The opportunity for acquainting her with my sentiments was gone for that night, for my uncle stuck to me during the rest of the time we were out of doors, talking chiefly about banking business, to MY UNCLE'S SCEE2IE. 159 which I had to listen in order to gratify him by my replies ; and when we returned to the house we all sat in the drawing- room, so that any confidential talk was out of the question. CHAPTEE VII. " Would not any man in liis senses run diametrically from you, and as far as his legs would carry him, rather than thus carelessly, foolishly, and foolhardily expose himself afresh and afresh, where his heart and his reason tell him he shall be sure to come ofi loser, if not totally undone ? " — Sterne. Next day was Sunday. I met my rela- tives at churcli, and returned with them to an early dinner at Grove End. Whilst at church I had not particularly noticed Oonny's manner, but as we walked to the house it struck me that she appeared very downcast. On the other hand, JMrs. Hargrave was in high spirits, undamped JIT UNCLE'S SCHEMU. 161 by a long and tedious sermon, and un- restrained by any sense of tbe solemnity of the day. Sbe carried on quite a little flirtation with lier husband, who sub- mitted to her playfulness very amiably, and, whilst I walked between her and her daughter, entertained me with various reminiscenses of her young days, and of Thomas's courtship. "He was absurdly in love with me," she observed, referring to her patient h.elpmate. " He wouldn't like me to tell you what he threatened to do if I refused to marry him." " Come, come," said my uncle, '' Charlie would rather read a chapter of English History, and learn a good deal at once." " I don't understand," returned my aunt. " I didn't know that we had any- thing to do with history." YOL. I. M 162 MY UXCLE'S SCHEME. (( What vou are talkino- about occurred to in George the Fourth's reign. There were wars and civil dissensions in those days which Charlie would rather hear about." " Don't let your husband silence you," said I. "Of course he was absurdly in love with you. What do you think, Conny ? " *^ I didn't live in those days," answered Conny absently. " Well, I am very happy," said my aunt, passing her hand through her husband's arm. " I only hope that Conny may have my good fortune," and she glanced askance at her daughter and me. " Confess, my dear, that you would rather have had Edward," exclaimed my uncle with a deep smile. " You don't mean what you say. But J/Y rXCLE'S SCHEME. 163 even if I had, I slioiild only have acted as most women do, who invariably want the ^Tono; man." Conny looked at me from imder her parasol and smiled. AVhat did she mean by smiling ? "There is a great deal of nonsense talked about marriage," said my uncle. " My idea is, that every young man should get a wife as soon as he can." " That's my idea, too," said I. " And mine," exclaimed my aunt. Thus fortified — how strong a man feels in his T\Tfe's acquiescence ! but then she must often contradict him — my uncle continued, " For what is a man without a home ?" "A vagabond," cried my aunt. " Quite right, my dear ; for a vagabond means a wanderer." 164 IIY UNCLE'S SCHEME. "I am always susjDicious of men with- out homes — of men who live in clubs or lodgings/' observed my aunt. " Of course I am not speaking of young men who havent had time to get married," she added apologetically. '^A man is not respectable without a home," said my uncle. "And he can't have a home without a wife," I answered. "How hot it is!" exclaimed Conny, a little peevishly. " This road is so dread- fully dazzhng to the eyes, that I can hardly see. AYliat a pity people mayn't use their carriages on a Sunday ! " " No, no ! we ought all to go afoot to God's house," said my uncle. " The day we dedicate to Him should be a levelling day — a reminder to rich and poor of their common mortality. But little piety will MY UNCLE'S SCHEME. 165 be left in the bosom of a hard-working labourer who, on quitting his place in the free seats, comes out and sees the rich saints luxuriously rolling homewards in fine carriages." "Eemember what your papa says, Conny," remarked my aunt. " I don't see Avhy poor people should feel more on Sundays than on week days," answered Conny. "Well, they do," said my aunt. " This is better," I exclaimed, as we turned into the long shady lane that led to my uncle's house. But Conny seemed rather sulky, and for the rest of the walk remained silent. In spite of my aunt's cheerfulness, we were not so brisk a party at the dinner- table as w^e usually were. Conny com- plained of the heat, which, she said, always 166 Mt UNCLE'S SCHEME. depressed her. For my part, I did not find it so very hot. The windows were wide open, and there was just enough air abroad to make the temperature of the atmosphere perfectly luxurious. However, Conny was in one of those moods Avhich render grievances necessary conditions of life. " She is not all sweetness ! " I thought. But that discovery didn't weaken my admiration. I was just of that age when a man will love a woman through every- thing, and for everything ; through spleen and sauciness ; for fickleness and flirtation ; through bad grammar, and for gross rela- tions ; when he finds that everything she wears becomes her, that everything she says makes her more enchanting ; when he mistakes temper for spirit, and many other things for many other things. I think, had my cousin stood on her head, IIY UNCLE'S SCHEME, 167 I should have considered her posture the most graceful and becoming one in the world. My uncle, dyspeptic as usual, was, in spite of his sufferings, garrulouSo The little flirtation my aunt had indulged him in, had put him into a thoroughly self-satisfied humour. Once more he got upon the subject of marriage, and dogmatised in a very inspiriting manner. However, it turned out that my aunt was not so ami- cably disposed as he imagined ; for, on his happening to say, that a true woman, if she loved a man, would follow him into ^ garret, and be content to make her bed on a sand-floor, his wife confounded him, by crying out, ''Nonsense! the true woman who will act in such a manner is a true fool ! A man who is really fond of a woman, wouldn't take her to a sand- 168 MY UNCLE'S SCHEME. floor ; but, if lie should offer to do so, the woman ought to refuse him, because his offer would be a sure sion that he o didn't love her as he ought/' " That is very good logic," said I, approvingly. "But still," I continued, "it is c[uite possible, and even reason- able, for a poor man to be devoted to a girl, to long to possess her, and to marry her without thinking of the poverty to which he will take her." " More shame to him 1 " said my aunt, who now differed from me for the first time since I had knoT\Ti her. " True," I answered, " but then he may hope, before long, to put her into a com« fortable position." " He ought to wait." " He can't," interrupted my uncle. *' You might as well expect a kettle 2IY rxczrs scheme. le^ not to looil after putting it on the fire." " And there is another side of the ques- tion," said I, ''which ought to be con- sidered — speaking for myself, I should seriously doubt a girl's love for me if she refused to marry me, simply because I couldn't put her into a good house." ''Mamma doesn't understand love," said Conny, querulously. "Mamma does," replied my aunt, ^ith a severe nod ; " but papa doesn't, and you don't." I looked at Conny just in time to catch sight of her little mouth twisted queerly at the corners. " Yott wouldn't have said that of me, when Georo-e the Fotuth was on the throne," said my uncle to his wife, with a wink at me. 170 MY UNCLE'S SCHEME, ''You're always talking about George the Fourth," replied my aunt, fanning herself with a napkin. " One would think that he lived in Henry the Eighth's time. He only died a few years ago." " When did he die, Conny ? " asked her papa. "You are well read in history." " Oh, please, don't let us argue any more," said Conny. "It is too hot." " Marriage," said I, feeling that I would give worlds to take and squeeze Conny 's hand under the table-cloth, "is one of those things you can't reason about. The moth flies to the candle, and takes no thought of whither he goeth or what will become of him." "Whether," continued my uncle, "the flame that attracts him is made by a farthing dip or by virgin v\\ax." "Aye, or whether it illuminates the JilY UNCLE'S SCHEME. 171 splendours of a royal drawing-room, or the sordid squalor of a pauper's hovel/' said I. " I don't understand what you are talk- ing about/' exclaimed my aunt. " We do, though, Charlie — don't we," said my uncle with great glee. " But Conny looks bored, and my Avdfe puzzled ; so we'll talk of feathers and rouge." I saw nothing of my cousin all the afternoon. Yes — once I caught a glimpse of her at her bed-room window as my uncle and I sat chatting on the lawn. I had it several times in my mind to tell my uncle what my feelings were for Conny, and to receive his opinion on the subject ; but I thought I should be acting more wisely if, before speaking to her papa, I first of all ascertained what Conny 's views were. I rather wondered 172 3/Y UNCLE'S SCHEME. that my uncle never made any allusion to my admiration, not to say my love, wliicli I thought must surely be as plain as the daylight. He could be confidential enough on other matters. I supposed he must have a pretty good notion that I couldn't be in the society of so charming a creature every day without conceiving a very sentimental affection for her. My aunt suspected the truth, and relished it; why did my uncle choose to be so regard- less ? He appeared so thoroughly fond of me that I could not question the pleasure he would feel on hearing that I wanted to marry his child. The only possible objection he could offer to an alliance which could not fail to gratify his pride of family, was — my "circumstances" — which, to speak the truth, were not what the Barino's or the Eothschilds would call 2IY UNCLE'S SCHEME. 173 splendid. But then, Conny would liave money enough for both of us to cut a very considerable figure with ; and what would it matter on which side the fortune lay, so long as it lay between us ? Conny made her appearance at tea-time, and though she met my admiring gaze very steadily, I could not help thinking that she had been crying. There was just the faintest tinge of red round the rim of the eyes, whilst the eyes them- selves looked soft and humid. I waited to see if her father or mother would notice these signs, but as they did not, I concluded that my suspicions were ^vrong, and that the efi'ect I noticed was due to the heat, of which she had complained. She had changed her dress since dinner, and now appeared in white muslin. Her arms and throat were bare, and down her 174 MY rxCLWS SCHEME. back, almost to lier waist, fell the long gold - coloured ciui she always wore. '' And beauty leads us va\h a single hair/^ said I, taking the cini between my fingers. "If it were a single hair it wouldn't lead you/' she answered, with a coquettish manner that appeared to me perfectly natural, and thoroughly undeceived me in my notion that she had been crying. '' Men like women to have plenty of hair." " You should tell Charlie that your hair is all your own," exclaimed my aunt, looking proudly at her child. " I don't want to be told ; I have eyes to see," I replied. " It's her own, take my word for it," said my uncle. " I thank heaven that jiY rxcLE\s sche:mi]. 175 the dead have not been despoiled nor the Ihing shorn to contribute to that show of hair. I only wonder that people can be found to skewer dead or distressed females' tresses amono: their own locks. I shoidd as soon think of wearing another man's skull, were I dis- satisfied with the shape of my own, as of gumming another fellow's ciuis over my baldness." " There are some thino^s that are better not thought of," said I, '"' buns, cooking, and vdg'-i amono* them." " AVhy buns ? " asked my aunt. '•' Because," said I, '"'I am told that they are the platform on which bare- footed bakers are sometimes accustomed to dance a saraband." " Faugh ! " cried my aunt. Conny ran out into the garden. I was 176 MY UNCLE'S SCHEME. going to follow lier, when she came back liolding a rose-bud. '' Put that in my hair/' said she, " and let me see what taste you have." I ought to have possessed Uncle Toby's simplicity when he looked into the Widow Wadman's eye, and attended earnestly to what I was about, instead of thinking of other things, for then, perhaps, I should have pleased her. As it was, I put the rose in the wrong place, when she whipped it out, and smartly bade me try again. My aunt looked delighted : my uncle umused. " Where will you have it ? " I en- quired. " In the right place, of course," she jeplied. "Well, then," said I, "don't face the 2IY UN-OLE' S SCHEME. 177 2:lass, but be o^oocl enouo'li to look at me." You may believe I took some time in satisf)dng myself; putting the rose now on one side, now on tlie other side, step- ping elegantly backwards to inspect her sweet face, touchino; with reverent finofers her golden locks, and twisting them round and round my heart in so complicated a mesh, that the fly whom a spider has spun upon its sticky threads is not a securer prisoner ; until my uncle, losing patience, cried out, " Come, let us have tea, or we shall be late for church." " Charlie has put the rose in very becomingly," said my aunt. " Yes, it will do very nicely," responded my cousin, peeping at herself in the glass. Then, while she made the tea, she said, YOL. I. N 178 MY UNCLE'S SCHEME. *' I feel too tired to go to clmrcli to-night, mamma." "Very well, my dear." " AVliy, wliat has tired you ? " asked her papa. " I don't know, unless it is the heat." " The garden will be deliciously cool, this evening," I observed. " I think I'll stay at home too, and keej) my cousin company." ''Do," said my aunt. My uncle sipped his tea, and appeared to take no notice. But Conny exclauned, " Oh, Charlie, please don't stop at home for me." " Ah, you dear little flirt ! " I thought ; '' it needs no Solomon to understand the English of your 'donts.'" '' I should be sorry to be thought irre- ligious," I said : " but I can't help saying MY UNCLE'S SCHEME. 179 tliat I would rather stay at home this evening, than go to church." Did Conny pout ? Did a little frown .gather upon Conny's white forehead ? I couldn't be sure — she turned her head so quickly aside. But even had I been sure that she pouted and frowned, I should never have doubted for a moment that her choosino' not to 2:0 to church, was a hint for me to remain with her. Come, Eugenio, you are a judge of human nature — tell me, what did that little episode of the rosebud mean ? What, my friend, but the delicate proem, the crimson-coloured preface, the sweet, the graceful, the womanly initialiag of the Arcadian scene she wanted me to rehearse with her ? She said no more, but drank her tea in silence, looking at the clock now and 180 MY UNCLE'S SCHEME. then, and sometimes out of AvindoAv, until lier mamma having left the room to put on her things, Avhilst her papa read a letter he had taken out of his pocket- book, she sidled up to me and whispered, with her eyes full of sweetness, and with the tenderest blush on her fair face, " I wish, Charlie, you wouldn't stop at home for me." *' Are you very deeply concerned for my spiritual Avelfare?" " I am sure mamma would rather have you with her. She is so fond of you, you know." " No living being could appreciate her kindness more than I do ; but I would rather risk her displeasure than miss the chance of being wdth you alone." In those ignorant days I used to think that a woman's wishes were to be read MY UNCLE'S SGEE2IE. 181 backwards, like a witch's prayers. Since then I have learned that this is not true. I gave Conny a smile to let her see that I thoroughly understood her, and heartily appreciated the dehcate sense of em- barrassment that made her anxious for me not to imagine, &c., and then praised the charming effect produced by the con- trast of the red rosebud against her sunny haii'. She said "Oh!" and "Ahl" and "Yes?"' and "Indeed?" and grew very absent. "She is wondering," I thought to my- self, " whether I mean to propose this evening." Before long Mrs. Hargrave put her head into the room to tell her husband that she was ready ; whereupon my uncle pocketed his letter, and gi^Ting us a nod, went out. I watched them leave the 182 MY UNCLE'S SCHEME. house — my uncle walking a yard or two behind liis wife, as people ayIlo have been lono' married often do — and tlien said to Conny, " Let us go and stroll in tlie gTounds." She made no answer, but went upstairs to get her hat, and returned after a short absence, looking very docile and even frightened. I noticed as I held the door open for her to pass out, that she looked at the clock, making perhaps the tenth time she had done so in less than twenty minutes. But I was in the humour to interpret every action of hers, into a compliment to myself, and was quite ^^dlling to believe that this farewell peep at the clock was merely meant to satisfy herself that she would have two good hours with me alone before her papa and mamma returned. The grounds covered pretty nearly seven MY rXCLE'S SCHEME. 183 acres. They ^ere wonderfully ^vell tended, and had been laid out with great judg- ment and good taste. They were richly stocked with trees ; at one extremity was a fine orchard ; the wilder aspects of nature had been judiciously preserved, and among the trees, in some portions of the estate, you would have imaoined yourself in the ^^ilds of a forest. The evenino- o was beautiful, beyond the power of lan- guage to describe. The sun shone brightly, but with the mellow and tender light that it takes in its descent, and which deepens upon it as it nears the western horizon. Under the trees a soft and fairy-like night had gathered, though here and there the sunshine streamed through the branches, and bathed the deep green grass with pools of yellow splendom\ Far and near, the pink hills reared their 184 MY UNCLE'S SCHEME. wooded ridges to the sky ; while the quiet breeze rang with the silvery chimes of the distant church-bells. '^Englishmen are c[uite right in be- lieving in their country," said I. "It is the finest place in the world to live in." ''You like it better than France?" " I like Updo^^Ti better than Longue- ville, certainly. What makes you smile ? I suppose you think me capricious and unfaithful to my old affections." "And yet I am sure you find Updown very much duller than Longue ville." " I daresay I should, if it were not for Grove End." "We are dull enough here." "/ am not. I am very happy. I know I should be very sorry to go back to LonoTieville, unless I could return to it on my own terms.'' MY UNCLE'S SCHEME. 185 "What are tliey?" "First of all, I should wish to take you with me." "Oh, Charlie," she exclaimed, striking at the grass with her parasol, " I hope you are not going to talk any non- sense." "It all depends," I replied, gravely, " on what you call nonsense." " Flattery is nonsense, and compliments, and personal remarks." " Dear Conny, I haven't flattered you?" " See how fine the trees look, and the sky. Let us talk about "Wordsworth." "I'd rather talk about you." " I hope you won't." " Why ? A man mayn't marry his grandmother, but it is nowhere written that a man mayn't talk of his cousin." 186 MY UNCLE'S SCHEME. Slie laughed at this, but made no reply. Though she had answered me pretty briskly, I was nevertheless struck by her air, which was at once subdued and un- easy. *' What are you thinking about, Conny ? "" "About nothing." " Were you thinking of me ? " ''How could I be thinking of you^ when I tell you I was thinking of nothing ? " "I wonder whether you have a good opinion of me ? " " I don't suppose you care what my opinion is/' "I do. I Avant you to like me." *' I should be very wicked not to like you, considering we are relations." " Oh, don't let us talk of relations. There is a brotherly-sisterly twang about JilY UNCLE'S SCHEME. 187 the word wliicli is effective enough iii tracts, but which disagreeably affects the mind that is engTossed with worldly considerations. I want you to do more than like me — I want you to love me." She grew pale and stooped her head^ then turning her eyes up to me, said with a forced, nervous laugh, " I have begged you not to talk any nonsense." " It is not nonsense to me. I am deeply in earnest. I love you, Conny^ and shan't be happy unless you love me in return." Her head dropped again. My heart thumped like an Irish valet's fist upon a door. I strained my ear to catch the breathless whisper, but no whisper came.. Kaising her head suddenly, she said. 188 MY UNCLE'S SCHEME. "It is mamma's wish that I should many you. She came to my room last night, and told me to prepare for an offer of marriage. I think you ought to have spoken to me first, before speaking to her. It would have been fairer." " Spoken to her ! " I exclaimed, greatly iistonished. ''Why, I have never breathed my feelings for you to a living creature." *' How could she have known ? " " She must have o^uessed the truth by my manner. She must have seen, as everybody with eyes must, that I was in love with you. I am very glad to have her sanction ; but I can assure you I have never yet sought it.''" Here came another pause, and then I said, " I hope you believe me." " Oh yes ; but I was pained when mamma said she wished me to accept MY rXCLE'S SCHEME. 18^ yon if you proposed, because — because I haven't had time to fall in love with you yet, Charlie." Here I cauo^ht hold of her hand, and said — I don't know what. What man does know what he says when he makes love ? It is wonderful that I can recollect so much as I have set down. I doul:)t if even Boswell, who was born with a note- book in his hand, could remember all the observations he had occasion to make, both to the lady he did marry and to the great number of ladies he didn't marry. I don't think I talked like a hero. I don't fancy I made use of any of those striking and powerful expressions which I strongly suspect must have been first brouoht into fashion among: novelists by good-natured elderly women, who had either never experienced or had forgotten 190 MY UNCLE'S SCHEME. tlie cliaracteristics of love-making among thinking beings. To conceal notliing, I don't think I said very much at all. " "Will you love me ? " and " Ho, won t you love me ? " and " Ah ! can't you love me ? " and " Please, try to love me," with an occasional Oh and a Xo, and a sigh, and a smile, and a blush from her, com- prise, Eugenio, pretty much all that was said and done between us. I looked without sig^hmof, and she siohed without looking. I sink — sank — sunk my voice into a whisper, and was about to express a very poetical and touching sentiment, when she interrupted me by crying out, " Isn't that seven o'clock striking ? " and before I could collect my senses, so as to enable me to listen to the distant bell and answer her, behold ! she exclaimed, " I will be back in a few minutes," and J/r rXCLE'S SCHEME. 191 ran — yes, ran — with great speed and sur- prising grace, down the grounds and out of sight. Much astonished, I beheld her dis- appear, and then pulling out a cigar, lighted it, and sank, carefully, and after -a narrow inspection, upon the grass, at the foot of a tree, and there, like Titpais, supine but not careless laid, waited for her to return. I tried to think over what I had said to her, and how, on the Avhole, it struck me, she had received my fervid language ; but I found myself chiefly wondering what on earth had drawn her avray so hastily, and what con- nection seven o'clock could have with a proceeding so entirely disagreeable and undesirable. In about five minutes' time, however, I saw her returning^ throug-h the trees. 192 MY JINGLE'S SCHEME. She smiled very sweetly on seeing me seated and smoking, and exclaimed witli indescribable sauciness, " I think you are very wise to rest yourself after your late severe attack." " I hope," I answered a little sarcas-^ tically, "that you didn't run away from me because you were afraid !" " Oh, no," she exclaimed, with serene candour shining in her countenance ; *' one of the servants — but I mustn't tell stories out of school. This is my little secret ; so ask me no questions." " I onust ask you one question," I re- plied, melted and won over as any petulant child is with a sweetmeat, by her delightful manner, " will you give me leave to love you ?" "Now, listen to me, Charlie," said she, laying her little hand on my arm and MY UNCLE'S SCHEME. 193 upturning her celestial eyes, so that I could see my own lovely features gazing at me out of them, like twin cherubs leanino' forth from the blue vaults of paradise. ''You have not yet given me time to love you ; and I have determined never to marry until I do love. I like you very much now, and that is all I mean to say for the present. You'll never be able to make me love you by constantly questioning me. You must take this for my answer, and not say another word about what has passed between us until I give you leave." *'But how long are you going to take ? '^ said I, fretfully. "You put me in the position of a child who is told to shut its eyes and open its mouth, and see what it will get; whereby it may get the lock- jaw, to say nothing of the exquisite TOL. I. 194 MY UNCLE'S SCHEME. mental torture it is subjected to by blind- ness under such conditions." " Ah, we must all learn to be patient in this world," she answered, with a look of real sadness in her face. " Well, Conny," said I, raising her hand to my lips, " I am so much in love with you, that I will do anything you want — though I would rather you ordered me to hang myself than wait." " Let us go in, I begin to feel the air 'D EVi-XS, CSXSTAX PALACE PEESS. ? /