ll E) RARY OF THE U N IVE.RSITY or ILLl NOIS 823 Sco84h The person charging this material is re- sponsible for its return to the library from which it was withdrawn on or before the Latest Date stamped below.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 APR 2 i 19W iB ND L161— O-1096 COMPANION TO " MEDWIN S CONVERSATIONS WITH LORD BYEON," In 2 Vols. Post 8vo. LIFE OF SHELLEY. By Captain Medwin. ' Author of Conversations with Lord Byron^ dhc. " This is a very pleasant book, written in that easy, gossip'* ping manner, which is calculated to make it a favourite. It ii an indispensable companion to the well known work " Med- win's Conversations with Lord Byron." — Morning Herald. " The book is sure of exciting much discussion— and to attract public notice, were it for nothing else but the boldness with which it excuses or justifies opinions, upon which the mass of mankind have set the seal of reprobation. Literary Gazette. THE HEN-PECKED HUSBAND. A NOVEL, THE AUTHOR OP " ThE M.P.'s WiFE.' IN THREE VOLUMES, VOL. I. LONDON: THOMAS CAUTLEY NEWBY, PUBLISHER, 72, MORTIMER St., CAVEXDISH Sq. 1848. Digitized by the Internet Archive in 2010 with funding from University of Illinois Urbana-Champaign http://www.archive.org/details/henpeckedhusband01scot THE HEls^-PECKED HUSBAND. CHAPTER I. 4 There are some houses in London, well xitu- 4 ated and well appointed — forming one of a , number bearing the happy reputation of ' good,' ■^ (i. e. fashionable,) and placed in the heart of \* the gayest throngs, yet into which the eye of ^ the world seldom penetrates, and of which its busy tongue is silent from pure inability to ^ talk. ' Of this description was a house in Hill "^ Street, Berkeley Square ; you might look back , for years and years in any old Directory and ^ stni to the same number you would find affixed "" the same name of " Chetwode," though the VOL. 1. 2 THE HEN-PECKED HUSBAND. family themselves were little known. Eveiy- one in the street mnst have been familiar witL the old-fashioned, cream-coloured chariot which came round to the door so regularly every afternoon, but it was never kept waiting long enough for neighbouring coachmen to exchange intelligent glances. Everyone knew the elderly footman too by sight, but he never lounged at the door in the gay season, as did his fraternity, for he felt he was not smart enough — neither did he linger there to renew friendships when the family returned to town for Christmas — he knew he was not strong enough to brave a chill— in short that house was unlike all the rest in every particular, for even externally it was narrower and more dingy than the others. Nevertheless there was " contentment there- in." Its quiet inmates neither courted obser- vation nor provoked remark — the turmoil of each returning season was nothing to them, and the ceaseless roll of carriages fell on indiffe- rent ears, for they took no part in the gaiety. THE HEN-PECKED HUSBAND. 3 A trio inhabited that house — a mother, son and step-daughter ; Mrs. Chetwode had gone to it as a bride and now lived there as a widow ; attached to it from cherished associations, she felt she could be happy in no other, yet from the hour that a funeral had left its doors, sad- ness, which had subsided into perfect quietude, filled the rooms which might have been given to scenes of festivity. Another reason had tended to prevent her again mixing in society — the blight that had fallen on the existence of her step-daughter Marian Chetwode ; she was one of a despised class, thanks to the verdict of a generous world, which despiseth spinsters! but she had had happier prospects once — that was a tale too often told — the prospects were not fated to be realised, and Marian Chetwode at seven-and- thirty was going down hill, when as a married woman she might have been in her zenith. But the delight of Mrs. Chetwode's heart, the light of the old lady's eyes, was her son, B 2 4 TEE HEN- PECKED HUSBAND. her only one, her excellent Mark, the paragon of his sex, and the child who had never given his parent a moment's uneasiness since the anxious hours of his babyhood !— she loved her step-daughter with all a mother's fondness, for she had watched over her childiiood, and felt for her as her own, but her son was her stay, her support, and her pride ; from the hour that he left home in the morning to the moment when his accustomed knock told her of his safe return, her system was not in the same state of tranquillity which made their quiet evenings so happy. Mr. Chetwode was in the law, and that pro- . fession favoured the mode of life which his mother had adopted ; the unvarying regularity had become a habit to him ; and we all know how easily we fall into a distaste for society unless we are constantly keeping up the ball, so Mr. Chetwode never found fault with his peaceful fireside ; but on the contrary, always ielt a sensation of pity when, as he walked THF. HEN-PECKED HUSBAND. O round Berkeley Square and up Hill Street, on his return from his Chambers, his progress was constantly arrested by fair forms, cloaked, shawled, and unbonnetted, tripping daintily across the pavement into their carriages, about to enjoy the delights of going out to dinner. . " What staves these people are !" he would say to his mother and sister, when the length- ened evenings enabled them to see their oppo- site neighboured all entering their carriages about the same hour, in pursuit of the same kind of happiness, *^ how they bore themselves for the sake of keeping up the acquaintance ot people they care nothing about!" Yet Mark Chetwode was a young man — four and tliirty summers were all that he had counted, and he was cheerful enough in dis- position to have been able to play the agreeable in society had he chosen to mix much in it,^ but beyond a few chosen friends with whom he sometimes dined, and who dined in turn with him, he had hardly an acquaintance on more than bowing terms. 6 THE HEN-PECKED HUSBAND. Those chosen friends however were well se- lected — chiefly men older than himself, whose friendship was valuable and creditable at the same time — men, too, who stood by him be- cause they saw his budding abilities, and ad- mired the frank, single-heartedness of his character. His young shoulders bore an old head, and engrossed in his profession by day, he loved the quiet home, which enabled him in the evenings to find a sure retreat whither he could go and^ enjoy the ever-increasing mass of papers, books and Magazines which it was his hobby to accumulate. But there is a term to everything, and the fixed habits of many a long year may suddenly be broken up by no agency of our own. The arrival of a foreign letter one morning, addressed in an unknown hand, to Mrs. Chet- wode, troubled the calm waters of her soul as much as any unforeseen event could possibly have done, for she had no foreign correspon- dents, and with that strange self-denial which THE HEN-PECKED HUSBAND. 7 seems to belong to the whole human race, she examined every atom of the exterior of the letter and lost herself in a maze of vain con- jectures, when the simple act of breaking the seal would have satisfied her mind as to who was the writer, Marian Chetwode smiled at her mother's perplexity, and suggested the propriety of waiting the return of the excellent Mark (who had left the house but a few minutes before) that he also might share the delight of a good guess. The remark recalled the old lady to a sense of her absence of mind, and the letter was opened. The signature, to which she first turned, made her start, for the name of Theresa Ber- ing woke a thousand memories of by-gone days when she who bore it, was Mrs. Chetwode's bosom friend ; she read, and every line roused long dormant recollections; she read on, through a long tale of trials borne by her early friend since they had parted, and the past was •8 THE HEN-PECKED HUSBAND. SO clearly and forcibly drawn, that it seemed as though she had followed her through every scene — tears blinded the old lady's sight and she folded up the letter in silence. " How strange !" was her first exclamation when her reverie was over, " how strangely things happen in this world, Marian ! — That let- ter is from one whom I have never seen since her wedding day ; and now — we are to meet again, both widows I we were bosom friends, but she married a cousin in the army, and, it seems, has followed his fortunes half over India, for after the first three years I lost sight of her altogether ; and now," added Mrs. Chet- wode relapsing into her musing vein, " we are to meet again— both widows ! — it will be a trying moment, for how changed we botii must be !" Again and again was the letter read, and that day's post would have departed without the answer which was requested to be by re- turn, had not the more collected Marian called THE HEN-PECKED HUSBAND. \) her mother's attention to the concluding pa- ragraph. " I am weary of Paris and sigh for the " obscurity which a nobody like myself is sure ** to find in London ; I will await your answer ; ** therefore, dear friend, let it be by return of " post, and should you consent to house me " for two nights whilst L seek some moderate " lodging, you will really confer a lasting ob- " ligation on me, as tempest-tost as I have " been about the world at large, it is a very " different thing braving the cold welcome of " a hastily-found lodging in busy London," "So it is," remarked Mrs. Chetwode; "that one remark tells how little altered she is, Theresa Dering was one of the most spoilt and petted girls possible, and very little fitted to come in contact with a heartless world. Sit down, Marian, and write directly and tell her, my dear child, what a real happiness it will be for me to receive her ; — tell her how small my house is, or it should be her home ^ B 5 10 THE HEN-PECKED HUSBAND, " But her daughters ?*' interrupted Marian, " Oh— yes — her daughters— well my child, I conclude she leaves them in Paris, for you see she says nothing of them." " Then you overlooked this sentence under the seal, Mamma — ' I shall only bring my girls as far as Dover until I am suited. My eldest is steady enough to conduct a boarding-school so I can trust her with the custody of my merry Theresa, who too nearly resembles her mother in her happy days — wild and thought- less, but I think better looking than I ever wa^.' " '^ The Theresa Dering I remember was lovely," said Mrs. Chetwode : " that arrange- ment will never answer, for 1 know my friend's anxious character, if she is like what she was in youth. No, Marian, Dover is too gay for two young girls to be left alone there ; and as it is but for two nights, we will find room for them all." The very idea of disordering her household a little for the love of her early friend had THE HEN-PECKED HUSBAND. 11 something pleasing in it to Mrs. Chetwode; the trifling self-mortification of making her pretty back drawing-room into a bed-room for the young sisterSj quite gratified her, and the resolution of asking her precious Mark to vacate his apartment and ascend into loftier regions, was the very triumph of friendship over every other feeling. As to Mark himself, when he came home that evening, the perturbation of his mother's spirits had by no means subsided ; it was natural that the prospect of seeing one from whom she had been so long separated should discompose her, and her son was not surprised to see her overcome when she retraced with him the chequered paths they each had trod since they had lived together as gay and giddy girls, and since they had parted, happy wives. All this did not seem the least strange, but what he marvelled at was the effect the an- nouncement had on himself. He did not like to own, even to himself, that it had slightly 12 THE HEN-PECKED HUSBAND. annoyed him ; for once he did not see with his mother's eyes^ his own took a very different view of the case, and in spite of every secret and inward argument, the conviction that his quiet home was about to be turned inside outy took the most despotic hold of him. Mrs. Dering was coming to stay in the house ■ — only for two nights certainly, but still she was coming, and never in this world did a guest only stay the time they said they would. Yes, she was coming, and no two people could be more totally dissimilar than the Theresa Dering expected by Mrs. Chetwode and the Mrs. Dering pictured in the mind's eye of her son. To him she was a gay widow re-entering society, for the ostensible purpose of introducing her daughters, young ladies fashioned and finished in Paris, no doubt "deux demoiselles d, marier ;" — to his mother she was the bereaved parent of two fatherless girls, seeking retire- ment, and flying naturally to the shelter which THE HEN-PECKED HCSBAND. 13 the roof of her earliest friend and companion would afford. Moreover, Mark Chetwode had rather a dread of young ladies, perhaps from an inward consciousness that he was not a ladies' man ; and if the Derings were going to make London their permanent home, in aU probability they would make his mother's house their permanent resort, and then, farewell the luxury of silent hours and studious evenings, farewell the tran- quil comer of the room where beneath the half-shadowed light of his candle -lamp he pored over his books and papers in uninterrupted enjoyment. All these habits must be laid aside, though only for two days; all these indulgences must be resigned; and still he kept saying to himself, " Only for two days." " I would j ust as soon be unsettled for two years as two days," was his remark to his sis- ter, in confidence, " for the feeling of discom- fort is equally great for one period as the other — and as for composing small talk for 14 THE HEN-PECKED HUSBAND. these young ladles, I would rather be doomed to write a fashionable novel ; I think I shall go out of town for the time ?" " Wait Mrs. Bering's answer," was Marian Chetwode's reply ; " she may come alone, and then she will not be in your way, for a quiet widow is very different to two giddy — I mean merry — girls." " True," said Mark Chetwode ; and he pa- tiently waited till the post brought the fatal missive, fully believing that Mrs. Bering would never be so unconscionable as to accept his mother's hospitable offer. But he was mistaken ; she did, and that with an alacrity and gratitude which convinced her warm-hearted old friend that she would never have had a happy moment had she left her two girls at Bover. And so they were all coming; the two Theresas, senior and junior, and the steady Georgina, who was fit to conduct a boarding school ! and this was not all : there was a lady's-maid who would THE nEN-PECKED HUSBAND. 15 be thankful for any old sofa, or chair-bed, or even an arm-chair " just for the two nights," and lastly there was ** a perfect treasure " in the shape of Victor, once valet, since courier, and then confidential servant to the unprotected trio. For him a comer was solicited, humbly and imploringly ; he was such an excellent creature, so useful, so trustworthy, and so attached that Mrs. Bering could not resolve to expose him to the contamination of poor, degraded London, unless it were absolutely impossible for her dear friend to receive him ; and Mrs. Chetwode in the warmth of her heart had a hard battle in her own mind what to say ! At any other season, ready acquiescence would most probatly have been her reply, but it happened just at that time that the public tranquillity had been greatly disturbed by the awful circumstance of Lord William Russell's death. How much this dreadful murder preyed on every mind, and how much longer than 1:6 THE HEN-PECKED HUSBAND. the usual nine days the excitement of horror lasted, must still be fresh in every recollection. None can have forgotten the sensation of ter- ror and insecurity which crept into every bosom when the fearful deed was noised abroad, and there are many who must still remember that despite every effort to summon up one's feelings of Christian charity towards all men, a prejudice did most certainly arise in several breasts in that season against foreigners in general, and Swiss valets in particular. " It may be very foolish and very wrong of me, Mark," said the old lady, at the close of the inward warfare, " but I cannot — argue with myself as I will— I cannot house this man." " I think it neither foolish nor wrong, my dear mother," was Mr. Chetwode's mild and guarded reply ; " for it seems to me that your friend exacts a little too much." " Xot at all ! you mistake me ; it would really make me happy to put myself to even THE HEN-PECKED HUSBAND. 17 more inconvenience for Theresa's comfort, but after Courvoisier — no, Mark, I cannot house the man, for I should not sleep a wink for thinking of that frightful murder ; and yet, how to tell her without either alarming her or hurting her feelings, 1 do not know." Victor, it appeared, had attended the late Captain Dering in his last moments, aiid judg- ing by what she should herself feel under the same circumstances, Mrs. Chetwode feared that any slight to so faithful a servant, might wound the sensitive heart of her bereaved friend. '^ And yet I declare to you, Mark, I am weak enough to be absolutely uncomfortable at the idea of having him here." " Think no more of it, mother," was her son's off-hand and smiling answer ; " you shall run no risk of sleepless nights ; the man shall have a bed in the immediate neighbourhood, from whence he can be at ]\Irs. Bering's ser- vice at any hour ; and should any opposition take place, which is very unlikely, the blame 18 THE HEN-PECKED HUSBAND. shall be mine, and the heartlessness of the act mine also — depend upon it our guest will have the good taste to be quite satisfied with the arrangement if we simply tell her we have not room for him, therefore I would say nothing about Courvoisier if I were you." To this plan Mrs. Chetwode reluctantly agreed ; and in due course of time the ex- pected guests arrived. CHAPTER II. When the cream-coloured chariot had set down the " three inside" which it had picked up at the coach office— when the hackney coach had disburdened itself of the lady's maid, the "per- fect treasure," and all the luggage — when in fact the half-dreaded meeting was over, and Mrs. Chetwode found herself alone, after having shown ;Mrs. Dering and her daughters the rooms prepared for them, she began to wonder at the calmness with which she had gone 20 THE HEN-PECKED HUSBAND. through the interview, and the wonderful self- command exhibited by her friend, who, in fact, had betrayed no sort of emotion beyond a de- gree of joy, which was not exuberant enough to disorder a hair of her head, or a fold of the veil so delicately tied under her chin. The first embrace over, she had made way for her daughters, and thus diverted Mrs. Chetwode's attention from herself, but a glance had been sufficient to show the latter that the melan- choly widow she had expected to see was a graceful, carefuUy -dressed woman, not young- looking certainly, but in a state of admirable preservation. Mrs. Dering had been a belle, and when she descended to the drawing-room dressed for din- ner, an hour after their arrival, she had all the remains of a pretty woman ; but the beautiful bride from whom IVIrs. Chetwode had parted at the church door, had not the sharpness of fea- ture, the restless eye, and the slightly roseate - tinged nose which marked the mother of the deux demoiselles a marier,''^ THE HEN-PECKED HUSBAND. 21 .. Mr. Chetwode received them remarkably well, but he kept aloof — they were all three so exactly what he had pictured to himself that he exchanged a smile with his sister, as he offered his arm to his mother's broken-hearted friend. The charm of her manners was not lost upon him ; the vivacity of her conversation anaus- edhim, and before dinner was over, he had decided in his mind that though the loss of her husband and her Kfe- time of trouble and trial had not made the indelible impression on her which had roused the tenderness of his mother's pitying heart, still she was a very agreeable woman, with a daughter who owned the loveliest coun- tenance he had ever beheld. Georgy and Theresa Dering were not for- ward, flippant, or remarkable young ladies in any way, unless the personal beauty of the latter be excepted. They both talked fluently with the people whom they had never seen before, and seemed as much at home that first evening, as if they had lived a year in the 22 THE HEN-PECKED HUSBAND. house. The nervousness of Marian Chetwode wore off as the hours glided on, and her bro- ther gradually thawed, but Mrs. Chetwode was so taken up by two objects in the room, that she had not a syllable to offer in return for Mrs. Bering's volubility. The first object was young Theresa, who sat before her, the living image of her early friend when last she remembered her, twenty years since ! Yet there was a stiffness in the daugh- ter's beauty which had never belonged to Mrs. Dering, and the tone of her voice had the instantaneous effect of marring the loveliness of the lips from whence issued the sounds. The second object was Victor the "perfect treasure." A gaunt, tall man, with florid cheeks, as if the colour were stained on the cheek bones by some permanent dye, long twisted moustaches, a very handsome head altogether, but a pair of eyes so glittering, so fiery, and so black, that they irresistably at- tracted the attention of Mrs Chetwode, and THE HEN-PECKED HUSBA^^). 23 caused her to feel an inward thankfulness that he was not to sleep in the house ! His officiousness was beyond everything— he put the old footman completely out of breath, and Jenner, the butler, stood and looked at him with amazement, for he took all the work out of their hands. " An invaluable man," said Mrs. Dering, as they went upstairs after dinner, " we should be lost without him ; otherwise I never could have ventured to ask you to find a corner for him under your hospitable roof." This was the moment seized by Mrs. Chet- wode for explaining to her friend that no such comer had been found. In her anxiety to word her excuses so as to give no offence, she accidentally allowed the name of Courvoisier to escape her, and Mrs. Dering and her daugh- ter went ofi" into fits of laughter; in vain Marian looked a thousand reproofs at her mo- ther — every succeeding word only made the matter worse, and the merriment was only 24 THE HEN-PECKED HUSBAND. checked by the apparition of the very man himself who, with a tray of coffee cups, stood mute at their elbows, having noiselessly entered the room with Jenner, and possibly overheard every word that had been said ! "I doubt if he heard or understood," whis- pered JNlrs. Dering, " but I will explain it to him myself — only allow me to speak a few words to him alone." So Victor was told there was no room for him, and with a smile on his lip and disbelief in his eye, he bowed to the arrangement with an air which convinced Mrs. Dering he had heard the name of his unfortunate com-patriot, and made his own conclusions. That first evening was entirely taken up by Mrs. Dering in detailing the events of the last yeai or two, and impressing on Mrs. Chetwode that no mother had ever slaved more for the advantage of two daughters than she had done for hers. " With my small means," was the phi'ase for ever in her mouth — THE HEN-PECKED HUSBAND. 25 ** With my small means," she ran on, " it has been most difficult to make all ends meet, and give my girls good masters, particularly moving about so much as we have done ; there- fore, repugnant as gay society was to my feel- ings, I sacrificed myself for their sakes and gave them a winter in Paris, to cultivate Georgy's singing and Theresa's music — but," she added in a lower tone, " Theresa will never be a musician — she is too timid — and too vola- tile — but you should see her dance !" and Mrs. Dering turned up her eyes. " Now Georgy has profited very fairly — you must hear her sing, my dear friend, only I tell you in the strictest confidence that the two girls are not to be compared ! — equally dear of course, but I mean to say that one is delf, and the other is china !" Mrs. Chetwode looked at " delf " and smiled ; certainly she was not pretty, and she was too self-possessed for one so young, but they were VOL. 1 c 26 THE HEN-PECKED HUSBAND. both SO well dressed and " set up " that the great difference between them was not visible to a casual observer. As for " China/' there she sat, laughing and talking, her sentences merrily rolling one over the others and her careless spirit seeming to take no heed of the opinions of those around her. She w^as charm- ed at being in London, and in raptures at the idea of seeing a play. " And the opera — I long to go to the opera — I hope I shall go once ! — do you ever go ? '^ said she, addressing Miss Chetwode, '^ The season is but beginning," answered Marian, evading a direct reply, " so you will have many opportunities I daresay." " But Mamma says it is so expensive," began Georgy. " Yes," cried Mrs. Bering, who had the fa- culty of being able to hear all that was said by others, although holding a conversation herself at the same time — "yes, we must not THE HEN-PECKED HUSBAND. 27 even think of those little extravagances^ so sit down my Georgy, and let ]\Irs. Chetwode hear you sing." The good grace with which Georgy unhesi- tatingly complied, made her hostess resolve that an opera box should be placed at their disposal for any night they pleased, and when the singer's beautiful and tutored voice had gone through a succession of songs, the old lady w:as more and more pleased to think she could confer a great happiness on girls so well able to appreciate it, and unable to procure it for themselves. So sped the first evening. As if by general consent, the mother, son, and daughter forbore making any remarks on their guests that night, but parted in a silence which was only broken by one observation from Mr. Chetwode, and that was, *' I think, mother, Mrs. Bering's spirits must be less depressed than you expected ?" To which no reply beyond a reluctant smile c 2 28 THE HEN-PECKED HUSBAND, was given. The truth was, that in her heart Mrs. Chetwocle was disappointed; she had looked for grief where all was gaiety, and there was also something uncomfortable in even the conviction that her friend must have devoted an infinite deal of time to her personal charms, to have kept them in such preservation. The old lady looked at herself in the glass, and compared her grey looks with the smooth unsilvered bands of the widow's glossy hair — she glanced with a dissatisfied eye at the cap which made her look older than she really was, and saw still before her tlie pretty black lace head-dress which artfully concealed in her friend any mischief caused by the thief of good looks, old Time ; and yet they had been friends together in early youth, and the disparity of age between them was not very great. It was with such thoughts as these that sleep visited Mrs. Chetwode's eyelids, and whilst heaviness still sealed them the next morning, strange though melodious sounds startled her. THE HEN-PECKED HUSBAND. 29 and the resounding tones of the piano in the drawing-room beneath, with an accompaniment of scales, roulades, trills, and shakes, fairly hunted her out of bed. One does not like to be reused early in the morning by unusual sounds ; it makes one nervous for the rest of the day, and Mrs. Chet- wode's piano being a very fine one, and the fingers, that touched, and the voice that accom- panied, both very powerful, her equanimity was considerably disturbed by the noise, and she felt almost annoyed, when on meeting at breakfast, Georgy Dering hoped in the most placid of voices, that her " practising " had not disturbed her. She was too kind to say it had startled her from sleep, and given her a headache, so she merely praised the young lady for being an early riser. "Oh, I was not up — that is, not dressed," exclaimed Georgy ; " but Theresa would have 30 THE HEN-PECKED HUSBAND. her hair done first this morning, and I always practise whilst she monopolises.*' " I told you it was too early," interrupted her beautiful sister, who had caught three pair of eyes directed towards her light ringlets and felt a little confused at the scrutiny. *^But my girls are like larks, up with the sun," chimed in Mrs. Dering ; " and I thought they never would leave me last night, they were so overjoyed at being in their own country again, and with such kind friends.". If Mr. Chetwode's lips could have mutinied and uttered sounds against his will, the word " Humbug " would undoubtedly have escaped them, but he contented himself with screwing them up, and fixing his eyes on his plate ; he began to think Mrs. Dering rather artificial, but his mother was evidently trying to make herself so happy in her society, that he smothered the idea at its birth. It is at the close of a London breakfast that THE HEN-PECKED HUSBAND. 31 plans for the day are generally made by the gay and the busy. Mrs. Dering proposed starting immediately in search of lodgings, whilst her daughters entreated that the morning . might be devoted to seeing sights. An un- answerable argument then arose on the part of their mother, showing them that it was im- possible to go to exhibitions without an escort, whereupon j\Ir. Chetwode almost shuddered, for he felt like a fly at tlie very edge of a spider's web ; but the daughters seemed dutiful and the lodging-hunt was decided on with no oppo- sition save from Mrs. Chetwode, who wished them to make use of her carriage. "JN'o, my dear friend," said Mrs. Dering; " it is very kind of you, but I am too prudent to be tempted : looking for lodgings in a car- riage would make them mount up to a sum far beyond my small means, so we will just take Victor, and do the best we can for ourselves." The quartelt departed, and the quiet house in Hill-street resumed its character. Hour 32- THE HKN-PECKED HUSBAND. after hour passed away, and luncheon was kept on the table till it was time to lay the cloth for dinner, but still they returned not. Six o^clock struck, and Mrs. Chetwode made a sacrifice on the altar of friendship ; she victimised her excel- lent Mark, who took no luncheon, and ordered the dinner to be served at half past seven instead of half past six. By seven the absentees had returned ; but instead of appearing in their fagged and jaded state, they went straight to their rooms and only presented themselves when dinner was announced. '^ My dear friend, I am ashamed to look you in the face," were IVlrs. Bering's first words ; " you will wish me and mine at the bottom of the Eed Sea." " Not at all — " began Mrs. Chetwode. " Nay, but hear me," continued her friend. " Picture to yourself my position : we have been up and down almost every street in the neighbourhood, for I wished to be as near you THE HEN-PECKED HUSBAND. 33 as possible, and not a lodging have I founi The difficulty is beyond everything : the rents are exorbitant — nothing to be had under five guineas a week — and yet with my small means I assure you I am far from particular. One I saw in South Audley-street that I really thought would do, but these girls of mine found an objection." " There was a brass-plate on the door," said Georgy. "Yes," added Theresa; '*and ones' friends might dislike that, even if we put up with it ourselves ; besides, it was a dentist's, and Mr. Sydenham said we should hear the shrieks and groans of the wounded all day." " We met an old acquaintance in the course of our wanderings," said Mrs. Dering, address- ing both host and hostess alternately; "one whom we have not seen for several months— not since we spent many peaceful, happy -evenings together in the little society we tre- c 5 34 ■ THE HEN-PECKED HUSBAND. quented at Baden— one too for whom I feel quite like a motlier, for he is the only child of my husband's dearest friend, Colonel Sydenham. It was a painful pleasure seeing Edward Syden- ham again, for I prize every link that once belonged to my chain of happiness." That chord struck home, and Mrs. Chetwode regretted that her friend had not asked Mr. Sydenham to spend the evening with them. " If it would have been agreeable to you, Theresa, you might have been sure how gladly I should receive any one you esteemed." **I told him where we were: I said we should be here till to-morrow," said Mrs. Bering ; " and that is the reason I was so late. I was positively ashamed to come back to you without having succeeded in finding lodgings." ** Not a word on that score," was the hos- pitable rejoinder. " Remember, my dear Theresa, that if you hurry away I shall think you are not comfortable ; so if you should still THE HEN-PFCKED HUSBAND. 35 h^ unsuccessful to-morrow, the doors will not he closed against you.^ The eyes of Mark Chetwode and his sister met, and laughter sparkled in each pair. Few as had been the hours they had spent in Mrs. Bering's society, the time had sufficed for them to fathom her depth in a measure ; not perhaps to its full extent, for they little dreamt that she, who so piteously detailed with countless sighs the fatigues of lodging-hunting, had entered but one that day, and that, the dentist's. The rest of their time had been spent in shops, every variety of which had been ransacked in search of bargains where- with to dazzle the eyes of those acquaintances who knew they had just arrived from Paris, and believed every article they wore to be purely Parisian. That night, when Mrs. Bering left her daughters to their slumbers, a maternal caution was breathed into the drowsy ear of Theresa, '' Now remember what I say, Theresa : we 36 ' THE HEN-PECKED HUSBAND. have every chance of remaining in this house for some days ; if in the course of that time Mr. Sydenham should be invited to spend an evening, remember what I say — no flirting. I have my reasons," CHAPTER IIL Though the ear of Theresa might he drowsy, it was not so dull that the maternal admoni- tion failed in its effect — on the contrary it roused her from the immediate approach of sleep, and set her wondering why it had been uttered. " Mamma generally tells me not to flirt with Edward Sydenham when some eligible is in the way " said she to Georgina — " but why on earth should she caution me in this house T '' There is Mr. Chetwode." 38 THE HEN-PECKED HUSBAND. " As much an old bachelor as his sister is an old maid!" " Well, then, perhaps she thinks Mrs. Chetwode might be scandalized." Theresa was going to say — " Who cares if she is ?" when the recollection of the lodging they had seen in the morning with the obnox- ious brass plate on the door checked the words. Both those young sisters had been too long their mother's constant companions not to have imbibed all her tenets, and learnt most of her wiles. They were quite aware that those whose aim it was to mix in society must keep up a good appearance at any cost, for the world has a contempt for poverty, and despises even the semblance of it— consequently it was their best policy to please Mrs. Chehvode, and see how long she would continue to make them welcome as her guests — for to make acquaint- ance with a London world from a house in Hill-street was more likely to ensure an en- trance into good society, than if a dingy lodg- ing in a noisy street were their home. THE HEN-PKCKKD HUSBAND. 39 And yet, though Mrs. Bering was even more alive than her daughters to this fact, she wasted not a moment over the breakfast table the next morning, but rose with loudly ex^ pressed hopes that by thus beginning the day earlier they might be more successful in finding apartments to suit them. ^Mrs. Chetwode arrested her nimble steps, as soon as her plans were divulged, by laying her hand on her arm — she had a few words to say before they started on theu' fatiguing search — she was sure the dear girls would like to go to the Opera, and they ought not to be fagged when such an excitement was in pros- pect. '' So stay at home till the afternoon, and then take the carriage to Eber's — choose any box you like without asking any questions, and let the ticket be sent to me." Great were the raptures, and loud the ex- pressions of delight, when ]\Irs. Dering sud" denly recollected it was Thursday — the Opera 40 THE HEN-PECKED HUSBAND. would be very late, and they would have dif- ferent acts of several operas instead of one good one — moreover it was a bad night for seeing Koyalty and celebrities, and Mrs. Chct- wode saw by the countenances of the trio be- fore her that their enthusiasm had suddenly cooled when they recollected the same thing. " Then take it for Saturday," said she, after a momentary pause; " Saturday is assuredly the best night." " How kind ! how very kind !" cried the three voices ; " but is it the same to Mr. Chet- wode ?" The excellent Mark had that instant entered for his gloves preparatory to departing for the Temple, and the amiable appeal to him was very cavalierly treated. He begged they would never consult his convenience on any subject of that kind. If he were required, his services as their escort were available, but if they had any other, he confessed he was not a party-going man. THE HEN-PECKED HUSBAND. 41 " But going quietly to the Opera — sitting still in a box — chaperoning your sister — " " The box is yours Theresa," interrupted Mrs. Chetwode, with more decision than she usually displayed ; " engage it for Saturday ^ and make your own party. If Mark is wanted, he is to be found here even at the eleventh hour." Innumerable were the rings at the street- door bell that morning — countless the people who wished to see Mrs. Bering " on business, '* some of whom had ominous cartons with them : but as the dining-room was appropriated to their reception, and the door firmly closed, no one had a right to say that the cartons had aught to do with the object of their visit. Whilst the room was still full of these indi- viduals " on business," a knock resounded through the hall, and a gentleman, announced as Mr. Sydenham, was ushered into the draw- ing room where Mrs. Chetwode had to enter- tain liim until her friend was at liberty, a pe- 42 THE HEN-PECKED HUSBAND. riod nearly approaching half an hour. This, to one whose habits of retirement made the presence of a total stranger almost painful, would in any other case have been a most op- pressive infliction, but as it happened, the vi- sitor ingratiated himself so immediately with the old lady, that when Mrs. Dering appeared, uttering a profusion of apologies, they were smilingly accepted. " Well ! if I were eighteen," exclaimed Mrs. Chetwode, on ]Mr. Sydenham's departure and after he had promised to join them at tea that evening, " if I were eighteen, I am afraid my heart would require a very strong lock and key if Mr. Sydenham were often in its neigh- bourhood !" " You think him goodlooking then ?" " Yes — and something more — he is irresist- ably pleasing." " Ah, yes I — of that we can judge — but as to his good looks, we are so accustomed to his features that I am sure if you asked either of THE BEN-PECKED HUSBAND. 43 the girls whether they thought him plain or handsome, they would hesitate as to what to answer !" When Mr. Chetwode came home that even- ing, he happened to be rather out of sorts — something had gone wrong in the course of the day and he returned with a headache, therefore instead of going straight up to his own room, he sought the quiet society of his sister, and listened, over a cup of tea, to the events of the day. The theme of the Dering proceedings was pleasing to his ear, for it gave him an ex- cuse for indulging in slight invectives, and giving vent to a little of the bitterness which was souring his temper that evening. " Upon my honour," was his exclamation, " this is the very coolest woman I ever met in my life ! Did I not tell you, Marian, I had a presentiment that, Mrs. Dering once in the house, my mother was in for it ? — and, not content with turning us out of our rooms and filling them for some unknown period, she 44 THE HEN-PECKED HUSBAND. must even make her friends ours, and leave our good, dear, shy mother to entertain her visitors I" " But really, as it happened. Mamma got on wonderfully with Mr. Sydenham and liked him." " Yes — as it happened I but it might have been just the reverse and she might have been bored to death ! — What are they going to do this evening?" " Mamma invited Mr. Sydenham to tea." " And what are the plans for the future ?" " I do not know — they were to take the Opera box for Saturday instead of to-night " " And in consequence, remain here till Mon - day !" interrupted Mr. Chetwode. " Oh no ! the lodging hunt was to continue this afternoon !" " And it will be unsuccessful again !" said Mr. Chetwode, rising impatiently — " upon my life Marian I do not believe Mrs. Dering means to go into lodgings at all ! — I have a horrible THE HEN-PECKED HUSBAND. 45 feeling that she does not even look for them ! — I give you my word," he added almost petu- lantly as he opened the door to leave the room — " if I had such a headache as this every day? that individual's ceaseless tongue would drive downright me mad !" The Derings were in high spirits when they sat down to dinner; — the widow had met a great number of old friends whom she had known abroad, and talked more than ever, but not a word on the subject of lodgings until, in answer to a question from Mr. Chetwode, she confessed that as his dear mother had so hospita- bly begged them not to go before the following Monday (?) she had postponed the fatigue until the following day; — Georgy was quite animated at having met a musical man, Mr. Keating, and talked in raptures of his singing — " He is always my second — you cannot think what a bass he has, and such taste too, having lived quite amongst professionals all his life — he 46 THE HEN-PECKED HUSBAND. is one of the best amateurs we know, is he not, Mamma ?" Mrs. Bering assented, but added in a careless kind of way that she thought Mr. Champney's nearly as good. " Ah ! I forgot him," continued Georgy, turning to Mrs. Chetwode, '' we met him too to-day while we were listening to the choremu- sicon; he has more taste than voice though, and cannot take a part at sight as Mr. Keating can. You are fond of music, dear Mrs. Chet- wode ?" Yes- Mrs. Chetwode liked Georgy 's singing, she said with a smile, if that was what she meant— but it appeared it was not; — Georgy had other motives for asking the question — she had told the two musical men where she was staying, and it was just possible that with their foreign habits and manners, they might consider the information synonymous to an invitation to pay an evening visit in- stead of a morning one, and "drop in;', THE HEN-PECKED HUSBAND. 47 would Mrs. Chetwode be very angry if they did? Xo — the old lady could hardly reply other- wise — but certainly the prospect of three strangers to tea, was rather formidable— she contented herself however with saying, she only wished to see Georgy and Theresa happy, and as she uttered the words, both ]\Ir. Chetwode and Marian remarked, that the beautiful eyes of the latter glanced brightly for a moment at the speaker and a flush crossed her cheek ; another moment, and she had relapsed into the rather subdued state in which she had been during dinner. The look and the fl-ush roused Mr. Chet- wode into observation — he began to think her interesting as well as beautiful, for there was a something about her this day that had at- tracted his attention, and he wondered why the two sisters had changed characters — why the placid ^* delf," was so talkative, and the bril- liant " china," so silent ; — Mrs Bering he cor- dially disliked, and Georgy was so steeped in 48 THE HEN-PECKED HUSBAND. worldliness that she only served as an object of curiosity, but there was a nameless fascination about Theresa, which her ever-varying temper seemed only to heighten, and Mr. Chetwode felt for the first time in his life, that one of a class, which he had hitherto looked upon as be- ing made of ringlets and ribbons, had actually power to chain his thoughts, and interest him in spite of himself. At this moment, Victor entered the room ; he had now become so much at home that he left the two grave old men servants of the house very little to do ; in his hand was one of Olli- viei's neat, brown-paper parcels, of a gigantic size, and Mrs. Chetwode made some casual re- mark about *^ purchases." " Oh, no,*' exclaimed Georgy, " only new music to try — such lovely duets and trios ! I am sure you will admire them." " You do not mean to say you will get through all that huge parcel to-night ?' said Mr. Chetwode. THE HEN-PECKED HUSBAND. 49 ^' We shall try them all over," was Georgy's answer, " and only practise those that we like well enough to keep." Mr Chetwode said no more, but he thought within himself that if hospitality demanded that the family of the house should sit up till the guests of their visiters had departed, they would not be in bed before the small hours of the morning. The evening advanced and a little knock at the door announced an arrival. Mr. Champ- neys was ushered up and Victor followed with a roll of music. A few minutes more and a cab drove up ; — it was Mr. Keating followed by a portfolio, very full indeed; another cab drove up and Mr. Sydenham entered the room. The party had now assembled and conver- sation became general; — Mr. Keating and Mr. Champneys stood by Georgy, who kept twisting round on the music stool at the piano till inter- rupted by her mother, who told her she was vo<. I. D 60' THE HEN-PECKED HUSBAND. setting everybody's teeth on edge : Mr. Syden- ham was hemmed into a comer by Mrs, Der- ing, and Theresa sat close to Miss Chetwode, learning the art of crochet. The eyes of Mark Chetwcde were singularly beyond control that evening — they kept wan- dering in that direction incessantly, until, hap- pening once to turn towards Mrs. Dering^ he saw that her volubility was falling on a heedless ear and that her apparent listener was absorbed in the identical contemplation in which he had been himself, till that moment, engaged. Till then, Mr. Chetwode had hardly vouch- safed a single glance at his visiter, but now, his attention was arrested in spite of himself. Edward Sydenham was at this period in the prime of manhood ; his slight but athletic figure was much above the middling height, and the way in which he carried his head, al- ways thrown rather backwards, made him look taller even than he was. THE HEN PECKED HUSBAND. 51 His features were not regular and his face was not handsome, but, as Mrs. Chetwode had remarked, it certainly was irresistibly pleasing. It was a pale countenance and the expression was melancholy ; — the lines round the mouth were marked, but placid, and the deep set eyes aided the general aspect ; — His hair grew so much off his forehead that it gave a few years of age to his appearance, but at eight and twenty that was hardly an objection and Mr. Chetwode, with a feeling of annoyance which he could neither command nor conceal from himself, turned abruptly away, and for the first time in his life, voluntarily seated him- self by a young lady, and began to play the agreeable, the yoimg lady being no other than Theresa Dering, his beautiful guest. By their side sat Marian Chetwode, a silent observer of all that was going on ; nothing was lost on her, for the day was gone by when at- tentions from others might have prevented her D 2 LlBR^^ 02 THE HEN-P;. care to go to a house that has only an " even- ing party " reputation. "Whilst her daughters were unmarried sh^ especially avoided asking any young girls who might interfere with their prospects ; and the season that Lord Rydal appeared in the hemis- phere, people thought Mrs. Bellingham must be dead, she was so exceedingly reclusive, " because," as she muttered to a confidential friend, " I see something very advantageous in view for my Blanche." And certainly Blanche caught the Earl, and the Earl was desperately in love with his prize too ; and when Time had gathered five little beings round the lordly hearth, Mrs. BeUingham had the satisfaction of seeing that the happiness of the circle had grown with the growth of each, and that she had really done well for her child. The Dean, Dr. Yarley, was also a good match, and Mrs. Bellingham had given a cor- THE HEN-PECKED HUSBAND. 99 dial consent to it, for he was Honorable as well as Reverend, and she decidedly liked the aristo- cracy, whatever she might say to the contrary ? therefore Gertrude Varley married an elderly man because she really liked him, and Mrs. Bellingham gained a great reputation. All this happened in bygone years — she was at the present time an old woman, peculiarly plain in person and particularly disagreeable in manner ; blunt to a degree, yet still courted by an innumerable circle of friends, and still giving her delicate dinners, but now to the most entertaining, instead of the most eligible of her acquaintance. Her round table now rarely numbered more than six seats : four of these guests were whist- players, and the fifth was generally some one who would amuse her, and tell her what was going on in the world, of which she began at last to weary. Her singular brusquerie bore the name of eccentricity, and she was called a P 2 100 THE HEN-PECKED HUSBANB. most amusing old woman by all who had the good fortune to be considered fit to be visited. Part of the year she spent in Paiis^, seeing everything and going everywhere, yet returning to town every April without a single new fashion- Her dresses were made by one of the first dress-makers, but as she invariably sent her own pattern, and insisted on having it copied to a stitch — where was the good of that ? Her caps were rather better, but they also underwent a little improvement from her own hands before she accounted them worthy to be worn ; and as to her wig, prompted by a delu- sion which is not only popular but universal with old ladies- — she had had it made (when Lady Eydal laughed at her grey curls) exactly the colour she remembered her hair to have been at the age of seventeen ! How well this suited a complexion of sixty or seventy, my readers have doubtless had many opportunities of judging, therefore that may rest ; but such was Mrs. Bellingham— such the THE HEN-PECKED HUSBAND. 101 old lady who, the day after her arrival for her six months of London, trotted up to Mrs, Chetwode's door on the arm of hef companion, and knocked with an imperative hand. Before admittance is given, pause for one instant to glance at the individual so carelessly named as her companion ; pause to gaze at her on whom the attractions of Paris had not been lost, but on whose pretty figure and pretty face all the last graces were worn with dainty coquettishness. On her arm, in a mass of lace and fringe, iay something solid, which the loud rat-tat-tat of Mrs. Bellingham aroused from its dreams, and as the head of the companion drooped, a still smaller head was raised, and a tiny nose, surmounted by two large, lustrous eyes, pro- truded from the midst of Miss Vere's black ringlets. The sharpesand shrillest of barks then announced that " dans un petit corp s'aliume un grand courage,^ and Mimi became violently excited, fired by the sight of a cat in the area 102 THE HEN-PECKED HUSBAND, and indignant at entangling his paws in Miss Vere's long corkscrews. Miss Vere was Mrs. BeUingham's humble companion, and though treated with the most blunt kindness and rough affection^ was invari- ably described to all the old lady's friends as an idiot, " Better she should be a fool than a knave, however," was ^^Irs. BeUingham's apology; " and though she has not two ideas, she does very well for me, for her manners are good and her memory perfect." "Vere" was of course a nom de guerre, Mary was her christian, and Smith, perhaps, her surname, but Mary Vere sounded best, consequently it was adopted; and where she herself dropped from, nobody knew ; she was very pretty, so gentlemen told her it must have been from the skies, for the colour of her eyes told tales ; and that was a joke at which she never failed to laugh, even if it were uttered THE HEN-PECKED HUSBAND. 103 fifty times a day, whereupon !Mrs. Bellingham would exclaim, " Don't make that girl a greater fool than she ifi ;" and Miss Yere did not mind the im- putation in the least When Mrs. Bellingham entered her sister- in-law's drawing-room, her quick but dim eye took a survey of the room and noted every artide in it at one glance, a faculty some people possess to a remarkable degree, par- ticularly with regard to one's toilet A.nd here, par parenthhe, let a prayer be breathed, that good angels defend us from the morning visiter whose eyes, during the whole of a long eonversation, wander from one's head to one's feet, and end by fixing themselves on some little deception which we fancied defied detection. In the course of that cool and sweeping glance, Mrs. Bellingham saw that things were all in their places, just as she had left them six 104 THE HEN-PECKED HUSBAND. months before, so she fell into a chair to take breath, and wait till Mimi had done barking. "Well— how are you all? just the same? — quite weU ? — never stirred an inch I suppose since I saw you last — and where is Mark, and how is he ? as stoopid as ever of course." There was one great peculiarity in Mrs, Bellingham's conversation, and that was, her pertinaceous usage of obsolete pronunciations ; nothing would induce her to say "stupid" for stoopid, and she always expressed thanks by saying she was much " obleeged." Her enquiries after Mark were good hu- mouredly answered both by his mother and sister, and his aunt was assured that he had quite came out lately, and actually dined out two and three times a week. " High time he should," said Mrs. Belling- ham, " and I am glad to hear it, for I always expect to find feathers growing over him some day — he might just as well be an owl at once. THE HEN-PECKED HUSBAND. 105 for all the communion he keeps up with his fellow-creatures — what is he about now ?" " Still reading very hard, and rising in his pro- fession rapidly we trust, but lately we have had great interruptions, and Mark has seemed quite to have lost his spirits, since the excitement of our guests so suddenly ceased." " Guests ? — upon my word, what next ? What guests have you had here ?** " Mrs. Bering and her two daughters," said Mrs. Chetwode, " she was a friend of mine in my youth, and we had not met for very many years." ** Bering ? — Bering T repeated Mrs. Bel- lingham, "where have 1 heard that name ? — what do I know about Mrs, Bering, Mary Vere ?" Mary Vere possessed one great virtue, and that to Mrs. Bellingham was invaluable, for It was her extraordinary memory ; she never forgot a face, nor a word that was spoken to her — was never at a loss for a name, and was F 5 106 THE HEN-PECKED HUSBAND. reaxly without a moment's hesitation to prompt Mrs. Bellingham whenever she required her assistance. Mrs. Bellingham was one of those who knew something about every soul in the world, almost, but now that she was growing old, she stood in need of a key to the treasure- house of her memory, the lock of which was no sooner touched, than out flew anecdote upon anecdote, many of which had once been power- ful enough to attach themselves to their sub- ects for life. Mary Vere was that key, and the instant Mrs. Dering's name was mentioned, her answer was ready. " Yes, dear Madam— a lady with two daugh- ters who were much spoken of in Paris — one daughter being singularly lovely." " Pshaw, stuflT, and nonsense!" (this was Mrs. Bellingham's favouiite expression) — " what taste you have, Mary Yere — you will never be better ; but now I recoUect exactly who you mean,'' she added, turning to Mrs. Chet- THE HEN-PECKED HUSBAND. 107 wode, " there cannot be two such women in the world as Mrs, Dering, and I know all about her." *^ Then you visited ?*' " She called on me, my dear — she got up a story of an old acquaintance with you, and took upon herself to call — " " But she is an old acquaintance," inter- rupted Mrs. Chetwode; "I knew her as a girl, and 1 may really say she was my only friend in my younger days." " Then in your older and wiser days drop her," said Mrs, Bellingham, " she is a bad style of woman, and the girls are well dressed fools, like most girls of the present day — but you must not cultivate her, Susan : indeed you must build an iron wall against her, for brick and mortar would not keep that woman out of one's house — she pushed fairly into mine, and I con- clude she pushed into this as well — otherwise how did she get here ?" 108 THE HEN-PECKED HUSBAND. Mrs. Chetwode related the circumstances, and IVIrs. Bellingham chuckled with delight. " How like Mrs. Dering ! — how completely the same mother of the two marriageable young ladies who were trotted out in every kind of society in Paris !— Yes, yes, I know her, and the wax doll Theresa, 1 know her too by sight." ** But I hope,'* again interrupted Mrs. Chet- wode in rather an annoyed voice, " that you at least left a card in return for her visit ?" "Indeed, my dear, I did not — I called my- self and went in — I never leave a card upon objectionble people, for they keep it clean for ever, and exhibit it, and there it is in black and white against you as long as a shred of it lasts I — no, I go in and come out again, and leave no trace behind ; and if they say ' Not at home,' I say I have forgotten my card-case. But where was I ? — Mary Vere, don't I know something about Mrs. Dering ? What w^as I saying about her?" THE HEN-PECKED HUSBAND. 109 "It was about JVIiss Theresa Bering/' said the prompter. " True — Lord bless me !" exclaimed Mrs. Bellingham with a shake of the head between each word^ " how hard she did try to marry that girl of hers! what arduous pains! what ingenious devices ! I know now what I was thinking of — one night she managed to get to a ball at some very good house (no one knew how, but her plans were all wheel within wheel), and 1 myself saw her play one of her tricks. Miss Dering was engaged to dance with young Sir Henry Wharton, (a great parti and a great puppy, like young baronets in general,) whereupon your dear friend quietly made her way into some of the other rooms, and so effectually hid herself, that Sir Henry had the charge of the young lady half the evening, to the indignation of all the other mothers, who did not know the trick, and fan- cied he had proposed and was accepted !" There was a pause when Mrs. Bellingham lid THE HEN-PECKED HUSBAND. ceased speaking, and Mrs, Chetwode was some time before she broke the silence into which vexation had plunged her. "But Marian," she at last suddenly exclaimed, turning to her daughter, " if this is indeed the Theresa Bering that we seem to know so well, add your testimony to mine to assure your aunt how very different both she and her daughters appeared to us — Surely one person could never possess two such totally different characters ?" " I do not accuse Mrs. Bering of possessing only two characters," resumed Mrs. Bellingham, ** I believe she has about twenty ; but, Lord bless me! what is she to us? — let her rest now, and teU me how Mark is ? 'VYhy trouble one's head about that silly, vain woman — it is your friend— there is but one Widow Bering, so cut her in future, now that you have got rid of her." "Well," said Mrs. Chetwode with half a sigh, " if I am forced to believe what you tell me about her anxiety for her daughters; I THE HEN-PECKED HUSBAND. Ill must at all events say one word for herself — She toils only for them ; she is only silly and vain on their account !" " She is vain to her heart's core, and was so long before these girls troubled her, "persisted Mrs. Bellingham, " and I recollect an anecdote of her which will prove it — Mary Vere, had she not an Indian husband ?" " In the Indian army," said Miss Vere. "Of course — you did not think I meant he was black? — weU, they were once on a march up the country, as they call it, and slept in tents, and all sorts of strange places, and it hap- pened in the dead of one night, an alarm was given, of the enemy. Captain Bering was at his post, and his wife was sleeping like a rqck, when an armed man stood by her side, and woke her by seizing her wrist. What do you suppose her first impulse was ? any goose even, would say, to scream, but no — Mrs. Dering saw by the glitter, that something splendid was in the tent, and that was enough for her — no 112 THE HEN-PFXKED HUSBAND. noise and no screaming — but she had a redness in her nose, and she covered it with powder at night — her first action was, to ruh off the powder — and then I believe she screamed — however that is a fact, and when a woman, surrounded by dangers, can think of personal appearance before personal safety, never teU me, my good sister, that vanity is not inherent in her con- stitution I" CHAPTEE VII. It was not to be expected but that this con- versation, so nearly regarding one who had been domesticated in her house, should make its due impression on Mrs. Chetwode's mind. It sank deeply, indeed, and many an hour did she sit pondering over every syllable that had been uttered, until her early friend stood before her in a totally different light. It never entered into Mrs. Chetwode's head to doubt a single sentence of her sister-in-law's 114 THE HEN-PECKED HUSBAND. testimony, for Mrs. Bellingham had her subject too mucli by heart to admit a doubt as to its truth. She had told all she knew with such clear rapidity, that her listeners were convinced she spoke from her own personal knowledge and observation, and therefore Mrs. Dexing was as completely condemned in Mrs. Chet- wode's mind, as if she had been tried by judge and jury. Deep regret that the wily widow had so successfully taken her in, and a gnawing un- easiness lest ill consequences should arise from her credulity, now rendered the old lady's couch thorny to a degree, and the increasing gloom of her darling son's manner woke a thousand fears in her breast, lest the suspicions which lurked there, and which she had not even breathed to Marian — that Mark was pining for the beautiful Theresa — should be but too true. Sometimes she thought she would speak to him in confidence, but the moment she was alone with him, she shrank from the task, THE HEN-PECKED HUSBAND. 115 dreading the certain misery of confirmation, and preferring rather to worry herself to death, and preserve outward peace, than perhaps wound the feelings of one, whose happiness was far dearer to her, than her own. This state of affairs continued for several days, and it was evident that the confidential feelings existing amongst that trio were at last shaken, for Mark had his secret and the mother had hers, and Marian felt that there was an awkwardness now, in speaking of the Derings ; so m. fact it had become a silent name, till ]Mr8. Bellingham, who did not possess the bump of veneration, and had no "respect of persons" of any degree, brought the subject again on the tapisy during a morning visit which she paid for that express purpose. Mary Yere was left outside to walk up and down Hill-street with IMimi, for Mrs. Belling- ham had discovered a secret that alarmed her, and not even Mary Yere was considered trust- worthy enough to be made a party to it, there- 116 THE HEN-PECKED HUSBAND. fore ^Irs. Bellingbam made her entree alone, bent on finding out whether Mark had kept his own counsel, or whether the trio were in league to keep her in the dark, and deceive her, as to the unfortunate attachment which she was perfectly certain he had formed. People judge so much of others by them- selves, that for the first few minutes, during which she was employed in feeling her way, she fancied Mrs. Chetwode was trying to delude her, but the natural guilelessness of the latter soon shone out, and Mrs. Bellingham saw that to her alone belonged the triumpli, of an- nouncing the fatal fact, that Mark, their excel- lent, their invulnerable, had lived his last day of indifference to female charms, and was in short, a lost and ruined man. " He called on me the other evening, on his way home," said Mrs. Bellingham ; " and my attention was immediately attracted by his appearance — never saw such a change in my life — looks ten years older, and smoke-dried THE HEN-PECKKD HUSBAND. 117 into a perfect object; so I questioned him till he must have wished me in the Red Sea, pre- tending that I thought it was liis liver — know- ing all the time as well as he does himself that it was his heart." Mrs. Chetwode well remembered the evening in question ; she remembered Mark's coming home weary, irritable, and dispirited : she re- membered the silent and abstracted hours that had preceded their separation for the night, and the many times he had appeared as if about to tell the subject of his thoughts, and then, sud- denly checking himself as the words were appa- rently on his lips. All this she remembered, and sighed to think what Mark must have suffered, beneath the covert lash of his inquisitive aunt. But Mrs. Bellingham's energetic address appeared to require an answer, and Mrs. Chet- wode was at a loss what to say. Her hesita- tion, however, was rightly interpreted. *' I see your thoughts," was her visiter's hasty 118 THE HEN-PECKED HUSBAND. exclamation. " You feel that I am right, and yet you do not like to own it. You know that INIark is a doomed man; — had I been his mother instead of you, I would have saved him. *' From what ?" faltered Mrs. Chetwode, who ^yished to hear her thoughts embodied in words by any lips in the world but her own. " How could I save him from dangers of which I was not aware ?" " You were not aware of them once, but you are now ; you know that Mark is falling a victim to the Derings, (for mark my words, the man who marries either of those girls mar- ries the whole three) and yet you sit there with your hands before you !" " Simply because I dread stamping indelibly on his mind, an impression which after all, may be but transitory," said Mrs. Chetwode, and this sentence seemed to arrest the impatient torrent of her sister-in-law's words. After a few moment's pause, however, it was again resum^ed ; IMrs. Bellingham was not un- THfi HEN PECKED HUSBAND. 119 reasonable, and she saw the wisdom of Mrs. Chetwode's last remark; she saw also a fine field before her for plotting, planning, and undermining, before finally blowing up the citadel of her nephew's hopes, therefore she agreed that for the present, silence would be their best policy; she agreed that there was much truth in the old proverb, that absence ex- tinguishes a slight flame, as surely as it adds fuel tD an ardent one, and if Mark had only been struck by the beauty of the dangerous guest, her opportune departure from beneath his admiring eyes, might have saved him from the impending fate of making, what Mrs. Bel- lingham called, " a fool of himself." " All his additional stupidity at this moment " were her parting words—" may only be owing to the loss of their society, for 1 dare say they made the house cheerful, which must have been a novelty, and missed accordingly ; — so, good sister Chetwode, take my advice, say nothing direct to him, but let him hear, indirectly. 120 THE HEN-PECKED HUSBAND. all the anecdotes I told you the other day ; but by the bye," she suddenly added, '^ had they a courier with them? a Swiss. " " Yes, they had ;— Victor !" " I know ! — a man who plays Mrs. Dering's cards to perfection — a wily, deceitful, treasure of a man, who never said ^at home * to an ineli- gible, if an eligible happened to be sitting in the drawing-room ! — yes, yes, I see they knew what they were about — but never mind, never mind ; if we save ISIark, long live the Derings, for all / care !" And Mrs. BeUingham rejoined Mary Vere. The perturbation of her mind had in a measure subsided : Mark was not quite lost — he might still be saved — and as her glance rested on the pretty, insipid, but innocent face of her humble companion, an idea suddenly struck her that she was the very tool to effect the desired object of blighting the first shoot of admiration in its infancy ! Mary Vere could talk of the Derings without giving rise to any suspicions ; — Mary THE HEN-PECKED HUSBAND. 121 Vere might tell all the anecdotes in her silly- way without Mark Chetwode's imagining she had any object in doing so ; she could say what Mrs. Chetwode could not, and Mrs. BeUing- ham would not ; so as they walked home the mind of the latter had resolved its plan. Her nephew was to be asked to a tete-a-tete dinner, (the said Mary Yere being never counted, although always present) and the prompter was to learn her lesson beforehand ; Mark was to be initiated and his eyes opened ; little things which inflict great pain were to be said, and finally he was to return home disgusted : his first preference was to be proved folly, and his only love pronounced, false ! Meanwhile, the object of all this female solicitude was quietly pursuing his way, silently feeding on his own thoughts, and little dream- ing that his welfare and worldly prospects were occupying so large a proportion of the time and temper of his eccentric relative, of whose ac- VOL. I G 122 THE HEN-PECKED HUSBAND. quaintance with the Derings he was not even aware. His mother and Marian had never told him of the disclosures which had been made with regard to their late guests — that was the for- bidden subject — therefore when Mrs. BelHng- ham's invitation arrived, though he laughed at the term " en tete-a-tete,^^ he accepted, without the remotest suspicion as to w^hat she had to say to him. He had often received invitations from her, similarly worded ; he knew perfectly well that she had always a lecture for him, prepared for the occasion, and he remembered that the re- moval of the cloth was always the signal for its commencement, but the subjects were generally thoee which rather provoked his laughter than his contrition, therefore hitherto he had not benefited. Sometimes Mrs. Bellingham would deplore to him his position in the world — a man with- out society ; then it would be the profession THE HEN-PECKED HUSBAND. 123 he had chosen— humdrum, and only equalled in gaiety to being buried alive ; what was the good of a glow-worm in a cellar ? when did he mean to shine out ? Another time, his single state had very much displeased her ;— he had a good three thousand a year — what on earth could he do with it? His mother, whose re- tentive memory might lead her back to his baby days, and delude her into the idea that he ^ as still an infant, might say he had plenty of time before him to look about for a wife, but when a man began to cast retrospective glances on his five and thirtieth birthday, you»g ladies would cast sidelong ones on a grey hair here and there, and reflect whether they could not do better, before they married him. " For in these expensive times," the lecturer would say, " let me tell you, two ^or three thousand a year is not enough to tempt a girl." " Heaven forbid," interrupted Mark one day, " that any girl should ever look upon my two or three thousand a year as a temptation ! I 124 THE HEN-PECKED HUSBAND. shall take care, my good aunt, that my happi- ness, if ever I marry, is not built on so frail a tenure." !Mrs. Chetwocle, when Mark mentioned his invitation, had her misgivings, and felt nervous to a degree as the hour approached for his re- turn. Though she had not been informed of the plan, she suspected that the dinner would never pass, without some allusion to the now all-engrossing theme, and as his step ascended the stairs, she laid down her work, and fixed her eyes steadily on the door. He entered — much as usual — calmly and cheerfully — but h'is candle was in his hand, and, contrary to his usual habit of sitting down, and talking over the events of the even- ing, he wished both her and Marian a brief good-night, as though that were his unfailing custom, and left the room. There was a pause. " Marian," said Mrs. Chetwode in a sup- pressed voice, " something has happened — THE HEN-PECKED HUSBAND. 125 something has been said — do you not see the change ?" Yes — Marian's eyes were quite as clear-sighted as her mother's, and this abrupt and unusual behaviour on the part of her brother was easily interpreted ; perhaps the more easily by her, because all along she had seen what was going on, and whilst her mother only suspected^ she was perfectly certain ; her mother trembled lest a denouement should arrive — Marian knew that it must, and only awaited it in grief and regret, for she felt, that all Mrs. Bel- ingham had said about the Derings, was true. Marian had heard that whispered sentence of Edward Sydenham's: — " Oh Theresa^, why are you so changed !" She too had seen the paper round the stalks of the bouquet, conveyed so cleverly into his hand, and she had seen that there was writing on it ; she knew also by chance that, that last Sunday, when Theresa heard their own old footman assert that no one had called — ^Marian 126 THE HEN-PECKP.D HUSBAND. knew that Victor had admitted Mr. Sydenham I And yet there stood Theresa, tacitly sanction- ing the unconscious falsehood I offering no de- nial, but glorying only in the feat of having outwitted her mother, as the sequel fully proved. No wonder then that in grief, though in si- lence, Marian awaited the moment when the brother she worshipped, should once more with- hold nothing from her, but repose in her that confidence, which he had so long received— when he should perhaps teU her that his mind was made up — (for Mark never wavered when once that was the case ;) and when with a sor- row which she dared not show, she should find that he was about to become the husband of a girl of whom she had no opinion, and the son- in-law and prey, of a woman whom all who knew her, despised I Days elapsed — Mark was more from home than ever — Mrs. Bellingham was gone to spend the Ascot week with some of her grandees THE HEN-PECKED HUSBAND- 127 near Windsor, and Mrs. Chetwode had taken the carriage to the city on business when, as Marian was sitting alone in the drawing-room, the door suddenly opened, and her brother walked in. His appearance at that early hour of the afternoon was so singular, that she uttered an involuntary exclamation of surprise, followed by a thousand questions, as to whether illness or any unpleasant cause had induced his re- turn. " Indisposition — ^not illness," was his answer " indisposition to remain any longer a prey to my gnawing thoughts, unsolaced by the advice of one sympathising soul ; — Marian, the time is come, for us to have no more secrets — the opportunity has arrived for you and me to have a conference — to my mother I dare not appeal, at all events in the first instance, for her af- fectionate prejudices might influence her can- dour, but I come to you ; — oh Marian I" he ex- claimed with sudden vehemence, as he folded 128 THE HEN-PECKED HUSBAND. his arms on the table and hid his face on them, " if you did but know how miserable I am I — ' Marian did know it— her heart aohed for him, but a choking sensation in her throat stifled the words, with which she would fain have consoled him ; — K the silent pressure of the hand which she slid into his could have spoken, he would have been comforted, but Mark Chetwode wanted words — he had been silent too long — his feelings had been too long pent up —he wanted a voice to open the flood- gates, that in a torrent of words he might dis- burden himself of the weight of his unhap- piness. He longed to speak of her, who had so unex- pectedly appeared, as the star of his destiny, and no sooner did a few broken sentences from his sister, pave the way for unreserved confidence, than all his hopes were poured into her ear, and the supremacy of Theresa Bering placed beyond a doubt. *• I have struggled with the feeling — I have THE HEN-PECKED HUSBAND. 129 vainly tried to subdue the impression — I have told myself innumerable times that she was not for me, and that her affections were no longer hers to bestow — at least on me !" he ex- claimed ; " but it will not do, Marian ; she haunts me — she makes me wretched — I no lon- ger care for my existence, for her sake, and yet, oh, Marian ! the things they say of her !' The climax had arrived — all the details of Mrs. Bellingham's dinner " en tete-a-tete^^ were now unfolded, and had Marian only known of the plot between her aunt and the humble companion, she would have acknowledged that Mary Yere had played her part to a pitch of perfection, quite marvellous in one, who was generally accounted an idiot ! But there is a " tide in the affairs of men '* in love, when volumes and volumes of even written evidence, would fail to injure the be- loved object in their eyes — when all the inuen- dos, all the slander, all the envy, hatred, and malice, and lastly, all the truth, (be it 130 THE HEN-PECKED HUSBAND. ever so plain and disagreeable) throws them but more completely at the idol's feet, and makes them but more determined to risk every- thing for one, whom people think it worth while to abuse, without reservation. This was Mark Chetwode's case; a few weeks before, and he might have been de- terred from the fatal pursuit, but now it was too late ; he had fed on the memory of Theresa till she had become necessary to his existence ; without her, his happiness was blighted, and it was this conviction thatj sealed his sister's lips. After he had indignantly repeated all that he had heard at Mrs. Bellingham's, he implored her to tell him if she believed one word of it — if she could think that Theresa were so completely her mother's willing tool — if she were indeed the heartless flirt, and the insatiable coquette ? Marian could not speak ; she could not truly say "I do not believe!*' neither could she find it in her heart, to dash the hopes of him THE HEN-PECKED HUSBAJTO. 131 who was watching her lips with such trembling eagerness, remorselessly to the ground. " My dearest Mark, the evidence of our own eyes did not tell us so !" was all she could utter, and he caught at the modified sentence. *' No ! and yet, Marian, we had several op- portunities of judging ! — shameful, shameful !" he added, as he rose and paced the room — " shameful to slander that innocent young girl ! my astonishment is, that our Aunt Bellingham could quietly sit, and hear Mary Vere say all she did, without reproof T " My Aunt disliked Mrs, Dering," began Marian. ** I know it," interrupted her brother, " but on what shallow grounds ! simply because she did not move in " the best set " in Paris ! in this crime, what participation could Theresa have ? but what are Mrs. Bellingham' s likes and dis- likes to us, Marian ! My mother grew quite fond of Theresa, and you — you were reserved with her, my dear sister — but you admired her?" 132 THE HEN-PECKED HUSBAND. The last words were spoken interrogatively, and Marian made an effort to reply ; she felt it a duty to call up her moral courage, and at the risk even of wounding his feelings, to pre- pare him, however slightly, for the repugnance with which the match would be regarded, by her mother, her aunt, and herself. " Personally, dear Mark, I certainly did ad- mire her, for she was very beautiful, but there my admiration ceased ; as for my mother — " " Ah !" interrupted Mark Chetwode, exult- ingly, " my mother's admiration was not con- fined to Theresa's face and figure only I — unless indeed Mrs. Bellingham and Mary Yere have prejudiced her by the same slander with which I was regaled 1" Marian quietly answered that they certainly had heard very much the same account, and Mark instantly interrupted her again. " And never mentioned it to me ?" " In the first place,, because you gave us no opening — in the next, because you never told THE HEN-PECKED HUSBAND. 133 US that the subject was one of such vital in- terest. Mark felt the truth of this observation, and a lono; silence ensued. It was evident to him that in no quarter was his preference for Theresa Bering approved ; but he was in that humour which took umbrage at the disapproval, and he who aU his life had been the most obedient of sons, and the most dutiful of nephews, was now ready to set at nought the love of years, and fly in the face of aU. remon- strance and all advice. As jet, he had been untried, but he knew his time was approaching. His suspicious eyes had seen that Mary Vere's babbling gossip was not unpleasing to IMrs. BeUingham — how little though, did he dream of their concerted plan. He gathered from the very few words that fell from her cautious lips, that she both disliked and looked down upon the Derings : he had just learnt from his sister that even her gentle nature rebelled against admiring the character 134 THE HEN-PECKED HUSBAND. of Theresa ; and worse than all, he saw a glance that his mother herself had gone over to the enemy, and would, most probably, only sanction his attachment tearfully and reluctantly, if she did not actually oppose it. In this spirit was the colloquy between the brother and sister concluded, and in this un- satisfactory state was the subject left, when the return of Mrs. Chetwode terminated the inter- view, and drove her son, abruptly to his room. CHAPTER VIII. If, 03 according to Shakespeare, there be a " winter of our discontent/' we may natur ally- infer that we sometimes enjoy a " summer of content," and to no individual could this term more happily apply, perhaps, than to ^Irs. Bering during her stay at the Keatings', for she was revelling in the very dog-days of satisn faction and self-congratulation. She had now been an inmate of their house 136 THE HEN-PECKED 1IUSBA.ND. some weeks, and everything had prospered to a wish ; they had excellent society, plenty of dinner parties, Theresa was exceedingly ad- mired, and Mr, Keating had never before been known to stay so long at home, at a time, in his life, which was attributed with some justice, to the spell of Georgy Bering's presence and the charms of her music. Now Mr. Keating was by no means a des- picable match in Mrs. Bering's estimation : her only feai' was, that he was not a marrying man, and that Georgy might be wasting her time on him ; still as there was no one else in the way just then, she looked complacent'y on their constant musical tete-a-tetes, and was inwardly pleased to observe, that the old couple regarded them in the same light. Morning, noon, and night, were Georgy and Mr. Keating now absorbed in profound studies of operas and oratorios ; in the country one so gladly seizes anything new, and Georgy was an accomplished musician, therefore there THE HEN-PECKED HUSBAND. 137 was hardly a piece however difficult, w hether for voice or piano, which she could not execute fairly at sight. In addition to Mr. Keating's vocal powers, he was no mean performer on the flute, on which nothing but his violent temper prevented his becoming first-rate. The rao-es he used to fly into with his instrument and the person who happened to be accompanying him, very much retarded his progress, and till Georgy came to stay in the house, and practice steadily with him, the flute had been more of a torment than a pleasure ; now, however, the scene was very different — good old music was re%dved and beautiful new operas practised till everyone was charmed, and Mr. Keating began to feel annoyed and injured when Georgina grew fatigued. Mrs. Bering's sharp eyes saw this in a mo- ment, and seized upon it as a good symptom. Georgy was properly admonished to suffer her- self to be worn to a thread paper rather than 138 THE HEN-PECKED HUSBAND. give way before the right time, and Mr. Keat- ing spent every instant that he could spare from his cigars and his hunters, in her society. So sped the summer days, and Mr. Keating still lingered in his home, instead of journeying one of the thousand ways which it was his wont to go at that season — Georgy Dering was the loadstone — Georgy Dering was the hindrance ! and but for two impediments, he would un- doubtedly have thrown himself at her feet. The first impediment was, that she did not possess five hundred a year, which was his standard of female excellence; — the second, that there was a high note in her voice, an A, which nearly drove him mad. To the G she could attain with exquisite clearness and pre- cision, but the A she surmounted by something approaching to a ruse — she just touched the note and then slid to one of her silvery lower ones, till he would fling his lute in the air and go off into a fit of frenzy. Mr. Keating was '^Janatico per la musica,''' THE HEN PECKED HUSBAND. 139 and it was out of his power to command him- self when a wrong note was played, or a false one sung. The failure of a sound on his own instrument was worse than everything else, yet now and then all these mundane miseries would occur, and no one could help his being made wretched except Georgy ! Georgy ne- ver played wrong notes in his hearing, for she practised her parts before the household were stirring, and as for the unfortunate A, which he declared drove him mad, she avoided it whenever it was in any way possible. " If it were not for that note. Miss Bering," said he one day, " that luckless A, which you cannot deny is defective, I would be your slave for life." And that was a figure of speech which Georgina knew meant nothing at all. " But it is hardly fair to call it defective,'* was her answer — '* practice will make it perfect — even the flute has false tones, and the harp 1.40 THE HEN-PECKED HUSBAND. false strings — why should not the human voice sometimes err ?" " Because it is the tutored servant of our will," cried Mr. Keating, warming with his subject as usual — " we have it under our con- trol, unless bad health should mar its perfection — you have not that excuse IVIiss Dering — you have no right to sing false. That A is without the shadow of a doubt defective !" This, to a singer who prided herself on her ear, was beyond endurance. " You would put an angel out of temper,*' murmured Georgy sotto voce, lest her mother in the back draw- ing-room (where her presence was quite unsus- pected by Mr. Keating) should hear her. " So would that note," retorted jMr. Keat- ing, waxing more and more wroth, '• and you must forgive me if I make one more remark — you know I very seldom find fault." " Be candid," said Georgy good humouredly. " I like to be told of my faults," and a slightly sarcastic smile curled her lip. THE HEN-PECKED HUSBAND. 141 " Then I must really ask you to pay more attention to time ' Every day 1 have remained silent, hoping and trusting that it might be from our not, as yet, being quite in unison — but grieve to see we are just as far from keeping time together now, as we were when you first came, and you must forgive me if I say, that a bad timeist is enough to provoke even a saint !" Georgina laughed outright I she a bad time- ist ? — she, for whom her mother had screwed, and starved and stinted, in order that she should be grounded by peerless old John Cramer, and finished by Herz? — she, of whom both had said, that her rank amongst amateur pianistes was of the very highest? -no ! that was too good ! so she bore it with exquisite temper, but from that moment ISir. Keating's musical character fell in her estimation and she looked upon him as simply a mechanical genius — well trained and admirably taught. The real fact was, Mr. Keating was a most 142 THE HEN-PECKED HUSBAND. difficult person to accompany ; However fine his execution might appear to listeners, his time was so exceedingly ad libitum that it was the most difficult thing in the world to keep pace with him, and as he had the reputation of being an excellent musician, aU the blame of course fell upon the unhappy being, who was galloping after him on the piano. Xow all this might be very well for a time, but Mrs. Bering did not intend that it should last for ever ; it was not for a summer's-day that she wished Georgy*s reign to continue, and since Mr. Keating was the only person in their whole circle, whose attention was wholly Georgy's, and who never seemed to be aware of even the existence of Theresa, she was deter- mined that if human skill could effect the object, it should be effected, and she should then have nothing left on her hands but the settlement of Theresa. It was for this that she seated herself day by day in the adjoining room to that occupied by THE HEN-PECKED HUSBAND. 143 the musicians. It was for this that she sat like a mouse behind the voluminous folds of muslin draperies, listening for some sentence which might convict, or at least conmait, the prisoner ! It was for this that she watched and waited till hope at last began almost to grow dim, and finally it was for this that, in the middle of July, she pretended to think that the summer bad ended, and that the term of her invitation had expired ; in fact that she must go I The good old Keatings were much surprised at this announcement ; they were a matter- of- fact couple, and immediately feared that they had not worded their invitation intelligibly, so it was distinctly repeated. " We hoped you would spend the summer with us," said Mrs. Keating, " and we imagine that to last till the 1st. of September, when the Major fills the house with his shooting friends, and my season as 1 call it, ends. " " Consequently," chimed in the old man, ^' if vou can raake it convenient to remain 144 THE HEN-PECKED HUSBAND. until that day pray do : if you cannot, we shall be very sorry." Mrs. Dering saw that with so primitive a pair all manoeuvriug would be but thrown away, so for days and days afterwards she lay in am- bush seeking for him whom she meant to destroy, and an admirable opportunity at last offered it- self, of which she did not fail to take instant advantage. Georgy and Mr. Keating had been at hard practice over some difficult duet one morning, and Georgy 's beautiful voice had surmounted the defective A, and done its part to perfection, when suddenly, fatigued and hoarse, she rose from the piano, and with a half-uttered ex- clamation on the heat, and the necessity of fresh air, stepped out of the window and lei- surely down the lawn, till her figure could only be seen at intervals, flitting through the shrub- beries. Mr. Keating looked after her for a moment, and then glanced at the flute- case, which THE HEN-PECKED HUSBAND. 145 should he do ? follow her, or have a good hour with his dearly beloved instrument ? Had the key been in the case, Georgina would have lost the day, but as it was not, he spread his anus wide in the air after the manner of young men on a hot day, and in an idle mood, and looked as if he also were going out of the win- dow in the direction of the shade. At that moment jMrs^ Bering felt a desperate woman; her heart, perhaps, beat a little quicker then than it had ever done in her life, and she entered the room, inwardly trembling, though nerved to her task ; she was the spider, about to pounce upon her fly. Cleverly begun, cleverly led, and cleverly lengthened was that momentous conversation ! Confused, surprised, and silenced by hearing Mrs. Bering, in so perplexing a manner, an- nounce that circumstances obliged her to put a stop to these most enjoyable musical mominga Mr. Keating felt just guilty enough to be un- TOL. I. H 146 THE HEN-PECKED HUSBANB. able to ask any questions or explanation. All he could say was — '* Do the old lady and gentleman know that you talk of going ?" There was nothing in the world Mrs. Bering disliked so much as plain questions, and where she could possibly avoid giving a direct answer she would ; therefore she replied that she had certainly hinted at it, though their kindness had prevented her being as explicit as perhaps she ought to have been. Mr. Keating paused and walked towards the window, humming an air ; Mrs. Dering was netting, her hands very gracefully held, and her head just a little on one side, so that she could turn up an eye now aud then and see the effect of anything she said, without pointedly looking up. A few long moments elapsed, and she saw he was in a reverie — she *1nust speak first herself, and she did so. '^ I wish I might be candid with you — I wish, Mr. Keating, I might talk to you openly. THE HEN-PECKED HUSBAND. 147 and yet feel that all I say is in the strictest confidence ?" "Pray do, IVIrs. Bering !'* was his answer, as he turned abruptly towards her ; " I know of nothing on earth that should prevent you." " Only the fear that you might be tempted in an unguarded moment to divulge — or I mean to show, that you are aware of my motives for curtailing our pleasurable visit here." Mr. Keating swore secrecy in his usual care- less way, and fixed his eyes on the widow's face as she hesitatingly proceeded. She trusted to his honour never to breathe what she was going to say — her stay had been delightful — almost unalloyed, but not quite— she was aware that with all her caution and care, that her very position made her and her poor dear fatherless girls, objects of remark and conversation, and even in the pleasant neigh- bourhood in which they were then located, she grieved to say, their names had not been spared — remarks had decidedly been made. H 2 148 THE HF.N-PKCKED HUSBAND. " Country gossip !" interrupted Mr. Keating, with a sneer ; " people must talk, Mrs. De- ring !' " Certainly ! I know they must, and will, but it is my duty to give as little cause for con- versation as possible, and I am pained to say, rumours have reached me in all directions." " Of what?" asked Mr. Keating, impatiently. " And questions even have been asked me," continued his companion, without noticing the interruption, " questions which have annoyed me beyond measure ! You have been very kind to one of my little party, my dear Mr. Keating — I know that her great enjoyment here has been very much owing to you in fact ; and I am sure you will be sorry when I tell you that it is that very kindness on your part that has shown me what I ought to do, and that has given rise to rumours so very painful to me, and — and so groundless." Mrs. Dering thought that last expression the best stroke she had played yet. JNIr. Keating THE HEN-PECKED HUSBAND. 149 had got very red at the beginning of her sen- tence, and a3 she proceeded, he began biting his lips and looking everywhere but in the direction of herself — he was evidently weighing her every word ! "So in conclusion,'* she resumed, after a pause, a sigh, and a resigned smile, " I have only to entreat you to see the case in the light that I do ! My poor dear girls have never, either of them, been talked of yet. I shudder when I think people may remark on them as they do on so many others whom circumstances launch into a gay, but alas I not a good-natured world ; and so, dear Mr. Keating, I am going away, and much as people have certainly said, 1 earnestly trust I go in time to prevent a weight being given to their gossipping, which might convert the purest kindness and friend- ship on your part, into motives and intentions which I am certain I have never had the folly or vanity to dream of for one instant, myself !" I^Ir. Keating had now commenced walking 150 THE HEN-PECKED HUSBAND, up and down the room, following the scroU pat- tern of the carpet with the most careful steps, and turning and twisting for the better attain- ment of that object, in a manner both ingenious and grotesque. Mrs. Dering was putting away her netting, and glancing towards the open window as if she meant to go out. He looked up, saw the glance, and spoke just in time to arrest her— (supposing she were reallj going.) ** Do you know, Mrs. Bering^ I am very sorry for all this?" ** Thank you, dear Mr. Keating — I was sure you would be !'* " And it seems all my fault too ?" "Not at all — not the least! you must not think that for a moment ! — In a country neigh- bourhood you know one's every action is known and commented on. The fault, if there be any, is mine only." Again JVIr. Keating began his scroll pro- menade. " Georgina — Miss Dering— is an exquisite THE HEN-PECKED HUSBAND. 151 musician," said he at last — " to you I do not mind saying so, but if I said it to herself she might neglect her practice and think she was perfect— no, she is really a beautiful songstress, and her touch on the piano is the finest I ever heard, but she is very young, and has etiD much to learn. I have often told her so, and I fear sometimes I have wounded her feelings by my candour — I am sorry for it now T Mrs. Bering assured him that Georgy had been more obliged to him than wounded — that she had always taken his correction in good part, and tried to profit by it. ^' Yes, I know she she has — which speaks volumes for her good temper," said Mr. Keating Sotto voce, "and when you are gone I do not know what I shall do, for actually, Mrs. Dering," he added emphatically, " the education of the young girls in this neighbourhood, has been so shamefully neglected that there is not one of them whom I could ever endure to accompany 152 THE HEN-PECKED HUSBAND, me, or with whom I would even attempt a duet !" That evening the Keatings had a dinner- party—one of those overgrown assemblages of people who came &ix and eight miles by broad daylight in full dress, to be made uncomfor- table, and keep up their " society." It was to be a large party, for the Keatings had asked many more than usual, in order to allow for excuses, and yet still fill their dinner table; but, as it happened, the fame of Georgy's singing seemed to have spread abroad, and nobody excused themselves; consequently, a great number of the very individuals who had been the cause of Mrs. Dering's conversation with Mr. Keating, were assembled or assem- bling, when that lady and her daughters en- tered the drawing room. Mrs. Dering had not been exaggerating to her usual extent, when she told him that remarks had been made — she had in a measure spoken the truth; and when Mr. Keating himself THE HEN-PECKED HUSBAND. 153 came down, he saw those who had been talking to Georgj on his entrance, move cautiously away. When dinner was announced, no one seemed inclined to offer her an arm, and he accordingly offered his own. In the evening, when he was asked to sing, all eyes instinc- tively glanced at Georgy, and not a soul ven- tured to volunteer to accompany him whilst she was'in the room ! Until this evening he had not noticed these things, but now he darted indignant looks from side to side, and was more out of temper with her voice than e\er. " Bear with it this once," whispered Georgy at last, as she bent over some music, " I shall not try your patience much longer, and when I am gone I hope you may find some one to endure your criticism as stoically as you have endured my false notes." He was silenced—he even meditated something like an apology, but she was in the midst of a solo, with breathless silence all round her, before H 5 154 THE HEN-PECKED HUSBAND. he could resolve what to say, for he began to fear he was in danger, and had rather an idea Mrs. Dering was trying to "hook him," (which was the precise expression ever uppermost in his mind.) This feeling rendered him cautious, and the conversation of the morning had made him shy. Georgina was also reserved ; in short the harmony of the evening was greatly injured, and the party did not go off as well as it might have done. The Major was tired, and thought his son might have exerted himself more, and every one, except the imperturbable Mrs. Dering, had something to grumble about, for a few of the officers of the — th, quartered at Dorchester, had been invited, but Mr. (now Captain) Sydenham, had not been included in the number. That party was an eventful one though, as far as regarded Georgina and Mr. Keating. It had opened his eyes, and Mrs. Dering saw that it had, but she also saw that his mind was very THE HEN-PECKED HUSBAND. 155 far from being made up, and so resolved was she that if he chose to procrastinate, she would endeavour to punish, that from that evening every hour of her residence beneath that roof was devoted to the accomplishment of her project Her position in the house also rendered it necessary that she should use despatch in whatever she intended, for the old couple were evidently waiting to see whether she meant to go or to stay, and they were accustomed to have such a constant succession of guests that she knew she could not in conscience keep them long in suspense; consequently, the morning after the party, she began looking over Georgina's music and separating it from Mr. Keating' s, and it was thus that he himself found her employed, George having gone out in the grounds with her sister, a very unusual measure on her part, and one which did not fail to strike Mr. Keating, though he said aothingt 156 THE HEN-PECKED HUSBAND. For some moments he watched Mrs. Dering in silence, and then said almost mechanically that he was really very sorry they were going. The widow replied that she was equally so herself, but hoped Mr. Keating had seen, the preceding evening, that she had not taken groundless alarm. But Mr. Keating was now in so bad a temper that he would not acknowledge this ; on the contrary, he declared that the conduct of the guests of the preceding evenins; was nothing more than homage to Georgina's skill, and that if that were the reason of Mrs. Bering's de- parture he thought it an insufficient one. The opening was too tempting for the mother to miss — for an instant she fixed her eyes on him as if to see if he would wither beneath that basilisk glance, but he stood his groimd, so turning gracefully away, whilst she spoke in as severe a tone as her voice would assume, she said, " Then in that case, Mr. Keating, I have THE HEN-Pt:CKED HUSBAND. 157 only to consult the peace of my dauighter^s mind" and walked into the back drawing-room. There is something not altogether displeasing to a trifler in being accused of endangering a "peace of mind." Mr. Keating's vanity was more flattered by the charge than conscience- striken at the home- thrust. He followed his tormenter with his eyes — he essayed to speak, and sentence after sentence was dismissed from his lips when on the point of utterance, as unsuited to the exigency of the moment. The chaos of his ideas was so great that he could only feel he was on the brink of the abyss, and down he must jump, impelled by a power which it was vain to resist. To take the leap like Marcus Curtius, gloriously, was however the feeling uppermost in his mind, and abruptly following Mrs. Dering, he spoke the fatal words — "Mrs. Dering — Georgy and 1 must settle this between ourselves." That evening they were engaged — Georgina 158 THE HEN-PECKED HUSBAND. was the accepted daughter of the house, and Mrs. Bering's anxious heart had only now to beat for Theresa!— Theresa, who, whilst her mother's eye had been sealed on her sister, had been playing her own game, and doing her best to mar every plan and plot laid out for a triumphant destiny ! CHAPTER IX. And yet, to Theresa, how swift the time had past! how bright the hours had been! un» watched, unlectured, almost unthought of, she had risen at daybreak each summer's day and flown into the broad parks and shady lanes of Major Keating's beautiful domain; punctual to the hours when the family usually assembled together, her absence in the intervals was hai'dly observed, for a book and a pencil were always her companions. But Theresa Dering had another companion 160 THE HEN-PECKED HUSBAND. in the eummer solitudes — she was not one to care for " wandering by moonlight alone " — - by the streams were green banks, and the lanes and woods had many a pleasant resting place, and there, as each bright day succeeded the other, by her side was a living, walking and talking companion ; in the shadiest spots of different parts of the road too, might be eeen occasionally a horse led by a mounted groom, patiently pacing up and down, waiting for the lingering rider. Dorchester was but seven miles from Major Keating's ; to gallop across the by-roads, aacl wait at a certain wicket, from whence the beautiful Theresa would issue at stated times, was pleasant pastime for Captain Sydenham, and the acquaintance which till now had been little else than a rather serious flirtation to Theresa, now began to assume a deeper char- acter, and the earnestness of Captain Syden- ham's attachment began at last to be shared by herself I THE HEN-PECKED HUSBAND. 161 Naturally cold, and rendered by education calculating, Captain Sydenham's circumstances had, till now, been a shield to the vulnerable part of Theresa's heart ; — she had been brought up in poverty — reared both to despise and con- ceal it, consequently the ceaseless struggle " to keep up appearances" as it is called, had generated in her mind, one firm and desperate determination to marry well, or not at all I But this day was passing, and another was dawning for her, too^bright, too happy for one so young to resist. Captain Sydenham saw that her heart was won at last, and she was evidently expecting every time they met that the truth would come out, and the words would be spoken, for no sooner was the smallest ap- proach to a declaration made than an inde- finable dread came over her, and old re- proaches, old cautions, words till then forgotten and tones of harsh unkindness, rang in her ears again, and led her to turn the conversation, or suddenly to put an end to it altogether. These nterviews had hitherto been alone, but on the 162 THE HEN-PECKED HUSBAND. day of Mrs. Dering's tete-a-tete with Mr. Keating, Georgina had accompanied her sis- ter; unaccustomed, however, to activity, she soon grew weary, and sat down, but Theresa wandered on by the river's bank, until through the trees, the glancing of a shadow told her who was advancing. That day in particular, a feeling and an im- impulse, hitherto unknown, flashed across Theresa- — it was, to turn back ; and then her feet seemed glued to the ground^ — stronger and stronger grew the impulse, yet it appeared to her as though something detained her, and she stood still in this frame of mind, concealed by a tree, and watched him breaking through the brushwood, and descending the bank which sloped to the water's edge. As he came nearer, she saw him look anxi- ously round for her in every direction, and then stop — she could not move — but her eyes were on his face — she gazed on the well known fea- tures and they carried her back to bygone days. THE HEN-PECKED HUSBAND. 163 now grown precious in her sight — her heart swelled, and hiding her face in her hands she inwardly breathed a fervent wish that he might pass without observing her, and that so she might escape. But it was not to be so. One hasty spring down the bank and he was by her side, her hands in his and the usual rapid, fervent greet- ing fiUing her ear. Why the sensations of this day were so dif- ferent to those of others, she could not tell ;— she could not account for the tremor and the dread with which this meeting was tinc- tured, until, on looking up at him, she suddenly saw that something was wrong — his whole face seemed changed — it hardly seemed the same that she had been watching through the trees, and then a conviction . stole^ over her that her feelings were the foreshadowings of some dreadful announcement, and unable to imagine what could possibly have happened, she sat 164- THE HEN-PECKED HUSBAND. down in silence, and looked the enquiries which her lips could not frame. At her feet knelt Captuin Sydenham, her hands still clasped in his, and his eyes still rivetted on those beautiful and trembling features. " Theresa," said he, in a voice as changed as his expression — ** Theresa, then the news has reached you ?" She shook her head quickly, and the nervous grasp of her hands tightened on his. " Then you guess it — you feel that the mo- ment has arrived — you know without words what must be the worst news for us, that tongue can tell. Oh ! Theresa, speak ! — utter but one syllable," he added with increasing rapidity — " all, all is in your hands ; to make me happy above the happiest, or to say, that this parting must be for ever ! Her head had sunk on her breast — ^her lips quivered, and slowly from the long dark eye- lashes there slid teai' after tear. She had been THE HEN-PECKED HUSBAND. 165 convinced before he spoke that a doom of some kind awaited her ; and yet, like death, when the blow came, how sudden, how stunning it was. No one knew better than Captain Sydenham the character of JMrs. Dering, therefore through- out his acquaintance, and from the earliest date of his love for Theresa, he was prepared to hope for nothing from her mother. During the last few weeks he had ceased to regard Theresa as her daughter — she had lost her cold manner — the veil of worldliness had dropt from her, and he saw her now only as one, most beautiful, most worthy to be won ! Long and long did that meeting last— many and many a heartfelt, sincere, and passionate sentence was poured into the young girl's ear, and the hours seemed moments as they sat there side by side on the river's brink. The bitter news that had thus curtailed their happiness and blighted their summer days was the fact of Captain Sydenham's regiment 166 THE HEN-PECKED HUSBAND. being ordered to India ; and as all hope was destroyed that Mrs. Bering would consent to such a destiny for her child, even were other circumstances propitious, the suit he had come to urge that day was this— that Theresa should fly with him ! It was now that Theresa felt that she had been li\ing in a dream ; she had been sailing down the streamlet, never thinking of the future, never caring how it would all end. She only knew they must some day leave the Keatings', but then she thought they would be sure to meet again, either in town or country. India had never for an instant crossed her mind and she was struck dumb ! The grief of the first hour was succeeded by one of reflection, or rather of a hurried glance at the reality of her position; — her mother's anger and indignation — her lover's want of worldly wealth — her own self, spoiled and pampered as she had been, travelling over a distant, dreaded land, in the steps of a regi- THE HEN-PECKED HUSBAND. 167 ment, and encountering, as a married woman, the horrors of poverty (or at least a nan-ow income,) without her mother's power of living in friend's houses when her own resources failed, and thus making her "small means'' interesting. Thoughts such as these were now wai'ring against the real, deep aiFection which she felt for Captain Sydenham. Theresa had been taught as a child to think, and she had occa- sionally been compelled to learn the bitter lesson of self-denial — thus she was enabled to view her prospects with a clearer eye and a more prudent judgment than most young girls of her age. She knew that her mother had managed that they should cut a good figure in society, but she also knew all that it had cost ! The petty humiliations, the compulsory meannesses, the gnawing heart-burnings, and the fifty thousand ways and means known only to " quality paupers !" Thoughts such as these chilled the glowing happiness with which 168 THE HEN-PECKED HUSBAND. she had listened to a declaration from the only- lips from which she ever wished to hear one. The impossibility of their union, the impossi- bility of her flying with him too, a measure against which her better nature revolted as one which might one day perhaps, lower her in the eyes of him she loved — all this struck her forcibly, and with floods of tears gushing from her eyes, and in language all the more touching from its broken incoherence, she pronounced her determination to part rather than to fly with him. But Captain Sydenham was not to be easily discouraged ; he did not consider the refusal as aught but the first shrinking from a proposition naturally startling, and he urged it with a perseverance which at last perplexed Theresa and induced her to waver. He saw his advantage, and hastily showed her how easily the flight could be arranged — how very easily, whilst Mrs. Bering's watchfulness was slumbering, three hours of safety could be THE HEN-rFCKFD HUSBAND. 169 depended upon, and in three honrs they might be far beyond all danger. Still Theresa wavered ! she had not enough of romance in her nature to see the peculiar attraction which " running away " appears to hold in the eyes of many — and besides this, she was unromantic enough to bear in mind, in the midst of vows and protestations, that to live on little else, but love alone, was a wretched prospect — but stiU it was dreadful to have to tell him so. " No — I see that we must part 1" she at last said ; " I did not think it ever could have come to this ; but I have more moral courage than you give me credit for. I had rather part from you than lose your respect." The usual energetic enquiries as to how that could be possible, followed. . " How could you lose my respect by con- senting to an act, which would only prove that you really care for me ?'' *' All men argue thus !" returned Theresa ; YOL. I. I 170 THE HEN-PECKED HUSBAND. " you know that if mamma would but smile on us as she does on the tame love-making of Georgy and Mr. Keating, I would gladly place my destiny in your hands, and follow you all over the world — but she will not — she never will ! and for myself — I confess the idea of flying with you — of running away!— of feeling by and bye when you introduce your wife to your friends and brother officers, that she had stolen clandestinely from her home... Oh ! Edward, do not urge me ; you know in your heart that it is wrong, so spare me the anguish of denying anything you ask — we must part, but not to-day — ^it is time for me to go home — Georgy is waiting too, so only tell me what hour you will be here to-morrow ?" " One promise before we say good-bye — one easy to grant, Theresa,'* said Captain Syden- ham—" only promise me that you will think of what I have said — turn it over and over in your mind, and let me have your final answer to-morrow ; forget that you have said ^ No ' to- HUSBAND, 293 firm as her own will, had been formed in her mind, and that was, to prevail upon him to alter the family colour of the carriage. But Mark came of an old-fashioned race^ acrd he was an old-fashioned young man him- self; he had whims, habits, and fancies, peculiar and firmly rooted, and she knew that to shake the deep-seated prejudice in favour of that odious cream colour, would be an Herculean task, but one which she was determined to per- form, or else — decline the carriage ! and in this spirit, they started on their way, — he, proud and joyous, — she, all smiles and sweetness. They reached their destination ; side by side they passed through the long lines of carriages and carefully examined each, till at last one was selected which equally suited the taste of both, and then Mr. Chetwode began entering into the details, price, size, equipments, and finally, colour. " Though, as to that," said he to the person in attendance, " your best plan would be to send 294 THE HEN-PECEED HUSBAND, some one to Hill -street when you commence the painting, and desire our coachman to show you Mrs. Chetwode's present carriage." " How ?' * whispered Theresa, hurriedly — " why should he do that ? what has ours to do with that dear funny old chariot, Mr, Chetwode?" " Nothing, my dear Theresa, except the co- lour, which perhaps you do not know has been used by our family from time immemorial." " The colour ? that dread — I mean that singular cream-colour ? oh, no ! you must be laughing!" exclaimed Theresa, with admirable surprise. " Indeed I am not — I do not believe there ever existed a Chetwode who had a carriage of 'iny other colour." Theresa's countenance fell — her whole man- ner changed ; she drooped, as it were, from that moment, and took no sort of interest in anything that followed, so much so, that Mr. Chetwode was quite miserable. THE HEN-PECKED HUSBAND. 295 He expressed his regret and his vexation in the kindest terms, but still, it was evident the carriage was to be cream colour. " How strange that it never occurred to me," Z' said Theresa, as they paced the damp manu- factory, " that our carriage would be cream- colour ! it never for an instant entered my imagination ; I had always fancied I should have such a pretty turn-out I I had quite drawn it in my mind's eye, even to the colour of the horses.'* " Well — those shall be any colour you please, but the carriage, my dear Theresa, will stiU be a very elegant one." " Oh, Mr. Chetwode I forgive me I but such a colour as that ?" " But, Theresa, I never heard you disap- prove my mother's?" " No — but did I ever imagine it would fall to my happy lot to have one of my own ?" Mr. Chetwode was silent — perhaps from pure vexation ; and it was Theresa who re- S96 THE HEN-PECKED HUSBAND, sumed the conversation, in a lively tone of voice, as though some bright idea had suddenly struck her. " But tell me before we proceed — do tell me — is it absolutely necessary that I should have a carriage ? could I not do without one ?" *' Certainly," was his answer, ** there are individuals who manage to dispense with them, but I see no reason why you should — eh, Thereaa?" '* Far better than cause you any vexation — and I see you are vexed ; why should I vex you ? I, who owe you so much ?" " You, Theresa I you owe me nothing — the debt is all on my side. Heaven knows ! — but that is nothing to the purpose." " Yes, it is ; it never was my purpose to be the cause of any unpleasant discussion arising, and will not countenance any act that either has occasioned, or is likely to occasion you, any annoyance ; dear Mr. Chetwode, you shall not order this carriage at all !" THE HEN-PECKED HUSBAND. 297 And to Mark's astonishment Theresa ap- peared perfectly in earnest, and determined to give up the object of her ambition altogether. How blind are lovers ! how blind must our lover in particular have been, when he only saw in this sudden but immoveable resolution, a most amiable trait in the character of Theresa. Rather than vex him by dissenting from his taste, she would resign what he knew she co- veted more than any possession in the world. The genius who stands at the elbow of a lover, embellishing every deed and word of the ruling divinity, is a very different spirit to that which takes its place by the side of the husband, aiding his impartial judgment, and brushing out of his eyes any of the glittering dust of delusion, that has been left from the days of their courtship. The latter would have placed the case in a very different light, and show- ed how, in wilful unamiability, but with hopes of eventual triumph lurking at the bottom, Theresa pretended she meant to give up the 298 THE HEN-PECKED HUSBAND, carriage altogether, partly because it was a colour that did not happen to please her, and partly because she saw Mr. Chetwode more firm about having his own way with regard to it, than she had ever seen him before ! Be that as it may, she actually induced him to leave the coachmaker's with un- decisive words on his lips, and a state of most perplexing indecision in his mind, and they commenced their walk home, in silence. This silence continued for many minutes — they had traversed many streets in the course of it, and by dint of stealing sly glances now and then at his face, Theresa could see that he was wavering as to what course to pursue, and she argued favorably of the result. She was not wrong — his steps grew slower and slower, as they approached Hill Street, and at last stopping, he said, " Suppose, Theresa, we go and have an ice, and talk it over?" Her cheerful acquiescence re-assured him. THE HEN-PECKED HUSBAND. 299 and an eager and animated conversation ensued. Who will doubt how it terminated ? — who cannot follow them through the mazes of their difficulties, and through the sophistry of their arguments ! Who cannot hear Theresa gently insinuating that after all, what mattered the colour of a carriage ? and Mr. Chetwode hesi- tatingly answering, that changing a colour was not like changing a livery — thereby opening the door for doubts to fly out, and conviction to fly in, and triumph to flap its gaudy wings over Theresa's victorious head. Before the ices were well consumed, they had resolved to return to the coachmaker's and to order the equipage according to The- resa's taste, and they then returned home, each rejoicing in the success of their enterprise. We said " each rejoicing ;" and so they were ; but the rejoicing was confined solely to themselves ! for no sooner did it transpire that the family colour of the Chetwodes was about to be changed, that the order was given, and 300 THE HEN-PECKED HUSBaND. that a portion of Theresa's firmness had com- municated itself to Mr. Chetwode's decision, so that no astonishment, no indignation, and no argumente could move it, or prevail on him to countermand the decree, than dismay arose in the hearts of that quiet fkmilj, and even placid old Mrs. Chetwode was more hurt and annoyed than perhaps the occasion called for. Be it remembered, however, that for many, many long and happy years, that colour had been associated in her mind with the husband she had lost — the father of her only son ; she had become quite fond of it, and it had never entered into her imagination to think, that at the word of a young girl, and in the course of a few short hours, such a revolution would be effected I Little things like these may seem trifling, but they grieve to the heart all the same, and Mrs. Chetwode's eyes filled with tears, though she turned away her head, as she thought of how she should like the new carriage, and its THE HEN-PECKED HUSBAND. 301 strange colour — that colour whicli would mark her son's first infringement of family rules, and family prejudices. As for Mrs. Bellinghami — little as it signified to her, — she took upon herself to be more irate and indignant than any one ; — the impertinence of this daring insubordination appeared to her immeasureable, for she was very certain that it was entirely the young lady's doing — not Mark's ;— bad as he was, he was not so lost as that; he would not have thus flown in the face of an old custom, had not some spirit more wicked than himself, set him up to it— indeed she now gave him up altogether as a hopeless case, and uttered go many bitter and painful remarks on the occasion, that Mr. Chetwode finally resorted to words stronger than any he had ever yet used; to impress upon her the fact of his independance to act, unfettered, and unreproved, as regarded his fuure establish- ment. And here the subject rested, or smouldered VOL- I. p 302 THE HEX-PECKED HUSBAND. rather, for it was of course always one of some slight awkwardness to all, and was consequently as much avoided as possible. As in the case of Theresa, opposition here did a world of harm, and only made Mr. Chet- wode more determined not to thwart the wishes of the gentle Theresa, to gratify the family pride, so vehemently expressed, of Mrs, Bel- linghara, whom it could not in anywise concern ! And now the four and twenty hours, denomi- nated the " happy day' ' of a man's life, ap- proached rapidly. Mr. Chetwode was over- whelmed with business, and surrounded by lawyers, papers, and red tape. He was acting magnificently by Theresa, who listened complacently to the deeds, which provided her with such abundant pin-money, and which would constitute her such a wealthy widow. In those settlements there were no unhand- some reservations, no mean limitations — he was looking on her as the dearest and most va- THfi HEN PECKED HT'6BAND. 303 luable of his worldly possessions, and endowing her with his worldly goods with a free heart, and an open hand, till even jMrs. Bering exult- ingly told her, she was the luckiest girl in ex- istence. Lastly came the question of servants, and it being decided between them, that two would be necessary to accompany them on their wed- ding tour, though where they were to go was not yet thought of, Theresa seized the opportu- nity of putting in a word for Victor. All the praise that had been showered on him to Mr. Keating, now came down, clothed in still more persuasive language, on the de- voted head of Mark Chetwode. Theresa was very nervous as she watched liis countenance, for she saw in it, all that she had told her mother, of doubt, dislike, and yet reluctance to deny her any request which she might make. It was evident that Mr. Chetwode's preju- dice against foreigners was very strong; he '304 THE HEN-PECKED HUSBAND. had an Englishman's feeling against them as servants, that is, the feeling of an Englishman who has never left his own country, and he did not give Theresa an answer immediately — he said it was a subject that required some con- sideration, and deferred the decision till the next day. " He is going to consult the old lady then," cried Mrs. Dering, when she heard it, "and she, poor old soul, hates him because of Cour- voisier ! — now is your time Theresa — stand firm, or we shall lose the day." And Theresa did stand very firm, yet with such a pretty appearance of sacrificing herself, and her wishes, and comforts, that Mark was more charmed with her than ever, yet he held back from engaging Victor. Even Marian opposed it I and why ? — she evidently had her reasons, but all she said was, that he had given her the idea of being very sly and underhand. Mrs. Chetwode urged every possible reason against it, and finally re- THE HEN-PECKED HUSB.4ND. 305 marked that except for the honeymoon, a man servant was superfluous to her eon, since he was to return to his own home, where the two men had Hterally nothing to do. '*Very true," rephed Mr. Chetwode, ^'yet certainly Theresa should have a footman —if only to go with the carriage — ii^ fact, she must:' " A footman in moustaches will look very singular," said his mother, and this was report- ed to Theresa. " Put him on a hat and feathers," said Mrs. Bellingham, when they were again canvassing the point, " and then he will be Mrs. Mark Chetwode's chasseur:' How unwise people are in their opposi- tion ! How very often a cause is lost, solely from some bitter remark ! in the present case that sentence gained the enemy a move, and Theresa's suggestion that Victor would be just the person to accompany them on their tour. 306 THE HEN-PECKED HUSBAND. especially if dear Mr. Chetwode thought of a little trip abroad, found favor in the lover's sight. " But then, my Theresa, it will be rather hard to dismiss, and throw him on the wide Tvorld, when we come home again." " Oh, mamma will take him back — yes with, pleasure, I am certain she will." " Then I had no thoughts of going abroad, my dear Theresa." " Had you not ? — well, where you like of course ; only think how enchanting to join dear Georgy in Paris for a week or so ! we should be a snug little partie carree of English, and you would not have to speak a syllable of French, think how delightful !" Mark Chetwode smiled —Theresa persisted — the day was won, and Victor was engaged as their servant. Paris was determined upon as their residence for a few weeks, and these measures were then announced to Hill-street, THE HEN-PECKED HUSBAND. 307 by both Mark and his intended, and received with that silence which usually signifies the disapprobation which the lips are backward to utter ; and so ended all the arrangements. The day arrived — a bright and cloudless October day — and again a wedding party, far less gay and far less numerous, left the old house in Hill-street, and returned there to breakfast, lor Mrs. Chetwode had insisted on taking that part of the ceremony a second time off Mrs. Dering's hands. And Theresa sat by her husband's side with a trembling hand and a cheek rapidly changing from red to ^vhite ; her face looked too unhap- py for the face of a bride, for as every one said, " Was ever any girl half so lucky ?" but still, there was a quiver in her voice, and tears con- stantly rising to her eyes, and not a sound issued from her lips, when, after the leave- takings were over, she was led to her own car- riage, and whirled away towards the Dovor- road. 308 THE HEN-PECKED HUSBAND. She bad fulfilled so much of her destiny ; she had gained the day in almost everything she had desired, yet sadness was in her heart, whilst every one around her, was exclaiming " How beautifully the bride behaved !" THE f^ND OF VOL. I.