^ 
 
 W. H. SMITH & SON'S 
 SUBSCRIPTION LIBRARY, 
 
 186, STRAND, LONDON, 
 AND AT THE RAILWAY BOOKSTALLS. 
 
 ^ 
 
 NOVELS are issued 
 
 and 
 
 -^rUnrV 
 
 d from Subscribers tn SETS only. 
 
 FOR su 
 
 ^TAl|ilNQ %n 
 
 ►OKS FROM A COUNTRY BOOKSTALL : 
 6 Months. 12 Months. 
 
 rnr ^yrri^iiiTnin nrrrtini- - -£0120-110 
 
 fNavelktnj^00lBftO»e yolume are not available for this class of Subscription. ) 
 
 For TWC Volumes „ - - - O 17 6 - 1 11 
 
 (Novels in more than Two yotumes art not availabUfor this class of Subscription. ) 
 For THREE „ „---130-22 
 
 For FOUR „ „ - - - 1 8 O - 2 lO 
 
 For SIX „ „ - - - 1 IS O - 3 3 
 
 For TWELVE „ „ ---800-8S 
 
 d.
 
 •^jtt 
 
 3/ 
 
 
 ' 
 
 
 BB^^BfS'^B^- 
 
 £ 
 
 'llBR.AR.Y ^- 
 
 OF THE 
 UN IVER.SITY 
 or ILLINOIS 
 
 823 
 C678e 
 
 V.I
 
 AN ENGLISH SQUIEB.
 
 LONDON : 
 GILBERT AND HIVINGTON, PRINTERS, 
 
 ST. John's scjuare.
 
 AN ENGLISH SQUIRE. 
 
 S Bobtl 
 
 BY 
 
 C. R. COLERIDGE, 
 
 AUTHOR OF " LADY BETTT," " HANBUBY MILLS," " HUGH CRICHTON' 
 ROMANCE," ETC. 
 
 IN THREE VOLUMES. 
 VOL. I. 
 
 Aim High, Strike High. 
 
 HontJon : 
 SAMPSON LOW, MARSTON, SEARLE, & RIVINGTON. 
 
 CROWN BUILDINGS, 188, FLEET STREET. 
 
 1881. 
 
 [All rights reserved.']
 
 vT 
 
 i> 
 
 r 
 
 00 
 
 4 
 
 ^23 
 1-, I 
 
 Vl PEEPACE 
 
 NT 
 
 ? — 
 
 In bringing this tale in a complete form 
 before the public, I should wish it to be 
 understood that it arose out of a series of 
 
 ^ conversations with a friend who suggested 
 the character of Alvar Lester, to the original 
 
 /v) invention of which I can lay no claim 
 whatever. He came to me from his 
 Spanish home, and I have done nothing 
 with him but turn him into an English 
 
 M Squire. 
 
 C. R. COLERIDGE.
 
 CONTENTS. 
 CHAPTEE I. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 The Lesters op Oakby .... 1 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 The Son and Heir . . . . .17 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 A Mother op Heroes 30 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 Strangers Yet ! 48 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 The Seytons of Elderthwaite ... 69 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 Virginia . . . . . . . . 86 
 
 CHAPTER VIL 
 Fire and Snow 101 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 A Day op Rest 122
 
 VIU CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Ruth 145 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 The Old Parson . . . . . .158 
 
 CHAPTER XL 
 
 Alvar Confidential . . . . .170 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 The Oakby Ball 183 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 Two Sides of a Question .... 204 
 
 CHAPTER XIY. 
 Virginia's Choice 214 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 A Bit op the Blarney ..... 228 
 
 CHAPTER XVL 
 
 The Otter's Glen . . . . . .241 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 Rifts 259 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 Red Sunrise 276 '
 
 PART I. 
 
 HOME LIFE. 
 
 A little more than kin, and less than kind." 
 
 VOL. r.
 
 AN ENGLISH SQUIEE, 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 THE LESTEES OP OAKBY. 
 " Young barbarians all at play." 
 
 Some few years ago Mr. Gerald Lester was 
 tlie head of a family of good blood and 
 jDOsition, and the owner of Oakby Hall, 
 the great house of a village of the same 
 name in the county of "Westmoreland. The 
 border line between Westmoreland and 
 Yorkshire crossed his property; but his 
 house and park were in the former county, 
 for which he was a deputy sherifi' and jus- 
 tice of the peace. 
 
 He was not a man of very large fortune, 
 and Oakby Hall was not a show place, 
 bat a well-built mansion of the last cen- 
 ii 2
 
 4 AN ENGLISH SQUIEE. 
 
 tiirj, with some arcliitectiiral pretensions, 
 and standing in the midst o£ that sort of 
 wild and romantic scenery which, perhaps 
 more than any other, fixes the affections 
 of its inhabitants. Oakby, at any rate, 
 was very dear to its owner. 
 
 The great sweeps of heather-clad moor, 
 the fell sides, with their short green turf, 
 the fertile valleys, had a character of their 
 own, inferior as they were to the better- 
 known parts of \Yestmoreland. 
 
 Oakby village was situated in one of the 
 largest of these valleys, and the Hall lay 
 low on the side of a hill over which the 
 well-planted park stretched on either side. 
 The house could be seen all the way up 
 the long carriage drive, for it was only 
 shut off from the i^ark by an iron railing, 
 within which the turf was mown close and 
 fine, instead of being left to be cropped by 
 sheep and cattle. The gardens were at the 
 side, and there were uo trees in front of 
 the house but one oak of great size and 
 beauty. There was a wide carriage sweep, 
 and the space between this and the house
 
 THE LESTERS OF OAKBY. 5 
 
 was paved, and on either side of the 
 front door was a stone wolf of somewhat 
 forbidding aspect — the crest of the 
 Lesters. 
 
 The grey stone house thus exposed to 
 view was stately enough, and though too 
 open and free to be exactly gloomy, this 
 northern front was bleak and cold, espe- 
 cially on a frosty winter twilight, when the 
 light was dying away in the distance, and 
 the piece of ornamental water and the 
 pleasant bits of woodland beyond were not 
 distinctly visible. No such thought ever 
 crossed the minds of the young Lesters, 
 who came back to it from school and col- 
 lege as to the dearest of homes ; but to a 
 stranger, a little doubtful of a welcome, 
 it might perhaps look formidable. 
 
 Within doors a blazing fire and abundance 
 of rugs and skins made the hall the most 
 attractive place in the house, both for dogs 
 and men; especially between the lights, 
 when there was little to do anywhere else, 
 and all were tired with their day's work, 
 or ready to discuss their day's amusement.
 
 6 AN ENGLISH SQUIRE. 
 
 Just before Christmas play was legiti- 
 mate ; and tlie young Lesters, skates in 
 hand, had just returned from the lake, and 
 were grouped together round the fire, 
 noisily praising and criticizing each other's 
 recent performances. 
 
 " I never should have had a tumble all 
 day if Bob hadn't come up against me like 
 a steam engine," cried the one girl, a tall 
 creature of sixteen, big, fair, and rosy. 
 
 '^ I came against you ! That's a good 
 one. Who could keep out of your way?" 
 ejaculated the aggrieved twin brother. 
 " You can no more guide yourself than — " 
 
 "A balloon," put in the more softly 
 accented voice of the eldest brother pre- 
 sent, as he unfastened his skates from the 
 neck of his great St. Bernard, who had 
 dutifully caiTied them home for him. 
 
 " N^ow, Cherry, that's not true ! " cried 
 the girl in loud indignation. " Of course 
 I can't be expected to do figures of eight 
 and spread-eagles like you and Jack." 
 
 *' I saw an American fellow the other day 
 who skated twice as well as either of us."
 
 THE LESTERS OE OAKBY, 7 
 
 " No ? All ! I don't believe that ! " from 
 the girl. 
 
 "But then they've ice all the year 
 round," from Bob. 
 
 "I daresay they can't do anything else," 
 from Jack. 
 
 " Jack always is so liberal ! " from 
 Cheriton; and then, ''Hush! here's the 
 squire." 
 
 It was sometimes said that no one of 
 the young Lesters would be so fine a man 
 as his father; and certainly Mr. Lester 
 was a splendid specimen of an English 
 gentleman, though the big Jack rivalled 
 him in inches, and promised equal size and 
 strength, while Cheriton, who was of a 
 slighter build, inherited his blue eyes and 
 brilliant colouring. But they were his 
 own children — every one fair, and tall, and 
 healthy; and their characteristic differ- 
 ences did not destroy their strong resem- 
 blance to each other and to their handsome 
 father, who now stood in the midst of 
 them with a foreign letter in his hand, at 
 which the children glanced curiously.
 
 8"; .AN ENGLISH SQUIRE, 
 
 He Tf as not much above fifty ; his hair 
 and beard, which had once deserved to be 
 called golden, had rather faded than griz- 
 zled, his skin was still fresh and healthy, 
 and his eyes bright in colour and full of 
 expression ; the level brows jnet over 
 them. His children, as has been said, 
 were curiously like him — Annette, or ISTet- 
 tie, as she was commonly called, perhaps 
 the most so. Although she was big and 
 unformed, she had the promise of great 
 beauty in her straight sulky brows and 
 large sky-blue eyes, resplendent colouring 
 which defied sunburn, and abundant yellow 
 hair. Her nose was straight and fine, like 
 her father's, but her full red lips were a 
 trifle sullen ; the contour of her face was 
 heavy, and though she looked well born 
 and well bred, she lacked the refinement 
 of intelligent expression. But if her great 
 blue eyes looked stupid and rather cross, 
 they were as honest as the day ; and at 
 sixteen there was still time for thoughts 
 and feelings to come and print themselves 
 on this beautiful piece of flesh and blood.
 
 THE LESTERS OF OAKBY. V* 
 
 She was very untidily though handsomely 
 dressed, and had the awkwardness of a 
 girl too big for her age ; but as she stood 
 leaning back against the oak table, there 
 was such vigour and life in her strong 
 young limbs as to give them a kind of 
 grace. She had a low voice of refined 
 quality, but she spoke with a strong north- 
 country accent, as did her father. In the 
 brothers it was much modified by their 
 southern schooling. The twin brother, 
 Eobert, retained, however, a good deal of 
 it. He was a heavier, less handsome like- 
 ness of her, and might have been described 
 as a fine lad or a great lout, according to 
 the prepossessions of the speaker. The 
 next brother, John, or, as he was usually 
 called. Jack, had, at nineteen, hardly yet 
 outgrown the same ungainliness of manner ; 
 but his height, and the strength trained by 
 many an athletic struggle, could not fail to 
 be striking ; and though he had something 
 of the same sullen straightness of brow, 
 the eyes beneath were thoughtful and 
 keen. There was no lack of mental power
 
 10 AN ExVGLTSH SQUIRE. 
 
 in Jack's grave young face, and he was a 
 formidable opponent to liis sclioolfellows 
 in contests of brain as well as of muscle. 
 
 Cheriton, except that his brows arched a 
 little, so that he could not attain to the 
 jDerfection of the family frown, and that he 
 was an inch or two shorter and much 
 slighter, was so like Jack that when he was 
 a:rave and silent his brio4iter colourino; and 
 the moustaches to which he had attained 
 were, at first sight, the chief jDoints of 
 difference between them. But then Jack's 
 face to-day would be his face to-morrow, 
 while Cheriton' s expression varied with 
 almost every word he spoke, so that he was 
 sometimes said to be the image of his 
 father, sometimes to be the one Lester who 
 was like nobody but himself; while, now 
 and then old friends wondered how this 
 handsome young man came to have such a 
 look of the mother, who had been no 
 beauty, but only a high-minded and culti- 
 vated woman. He was his father's favour- 
 ite, and somehow his brothers were not 
 jealous of tlic preference. " Cherry," as
 
 THE LESTERS OE OAKBY. 11 
 
 they called him, was the family oracle, 
 though he risked his place now and then 
 when his utterances were not in accordance 
 with the prevailing sentiment. 
 
 Mr. Lester's expression was now dark 
 enough to indicate annoyance of no common 
 kind ; but it did not take much to make 
 him look cross, and if his sons and daughter 
 had not known that there was an unusual 
 speck on the family horizon, they would 
 have surmised that the keepers were in 
 disgrace, the newspaper late in arriving, 
 or that they themselves had unwittingly 
 transgressed. 
 
 As it was they were all silent, though 
 Cheriton looked up with a question in 
 his eyes, and the twins glanced at each 
 other. 
 
 " I have had a letter from — your bro- 
 ther ; he has started on his journey, and 
 will be here in a day or two." 
 
 JSTo one spoke for a moment, and then 
 Cheriton said, — 
 
 " Well, father, I shall be very glad to 
 see him. It's a good time for him to come,
 
 12 . AN ENGLISH SQUIRE. 
 
 and I hope wc shall be able to make it 
 pleasant for him." 
 
 " Pleasant for Mm,'' growled Bob. 
 
 *' It won't be at all pleasant for us,'' said 
 his sister. " Fancy a foreign fellow inter- 
 fering in all our concerns. And Granny 
 says he's sure to set us a bad example." 
 
 *' Ay," said the father, " you lads needn't 
 be in too great a hurry to get up an 
 intimacy." 
 
 " There's not much fear of that," said 
 Cheriton. 
 
 " Ah, my boy," said Mr. Lester, turning 
 to him, " you take it very well ; but it's hard 
 on you ; no one knows better than I do." 
 
 " As for me," said Cheriton, with a shade 
 of the characteristic family gruffness in 
 his much pleasanter voice, '' you know it 
 has always been my wish that he should 
 come, and why should we set ourselves 
 against it ? " 
 
 " He ought to have come sooner," said 
 Jack. 
 
 " That's no affair of yours, Jack," said 
 his father sharply. "Don't be so ready
 
 THE LESTEh'S OF OAKBY. 13 
 
 with your comments. He is coming 
 now, and — and I'll liear no more grum- 
 bling. I'm hanged if I know what we are 
 all to make of him, though," he muttered 
 as he left the halL 
 
 " He'd better not interfere with me," 
 said Bob. '' I shall take no notice of him." 
 
 '' Poor fellow ! " said Cheriton satirically. 
 
 " I won't kiss him, I declare," cried his 
 sister. 
 
 " Now you boys, and Nettie, look here," 
 said Cheriton seriously. " Alvar is our 
 father's son and our brother. He is the 
 eldest, and has his rights. That's the 
 fact ; and his having lived all his life in 
 Spain doesn't alter it. And if his coming 
 is strange to us, what will it be for liim ? 
 Isn't it an awful shame to set our backs up 
 before we see him ? Is it his fault ? " 
 
 Cheriton's influence in the family was 
 considerable, and the younger ones had no 
 answer to his arguments ; but influence and 
 arguments are weak compared to prejudice; 
 and no one answered till Jack grumbled 
 out, —
 
 14 AN ENGLISH SQUIRE. 
 
 '' Of course we must do our duty by 
 him, and perhaps he'll improve." 
 
 " On acquaintance," suggested Cheriton, 
 with half-suppressed fun. " Suppose he's 
 a finer fellow than any of us, and a better 
 sort altogether. What shall we do then ? " 
 
 '' Oh, but he's a foreigner, you know," 
 said Nettie, as if this settled the question. 
 " Come, Bob, let's go and see the puppies 
 fed." 
 
 *' What I say is," said Jack, as the twins 
 went away and left their elders to a freer 
 discussion, " that the thing has been left 
 too late. Here is Alvar, — twenty-five, 
 isn't he ? " 
 
 " Yes ; he is only two years older than 
 I am." 
 
 "-How can he turn into an Englishman? 
 It's all very well for you to chaff about it, 
 and lecture the young ones ; but the squire 
 won't stand him with patience for a day ; 
 there'll be one continual row. Everything 
 will be turned topsy-turvy. He'll go back 
 to Seville in a month." 
 
 Cheriton was silent. He was older than 
 Jack by nearly four years, and perhaps should
 
 THE J.ESTEES OF OAKBY. 15 
 
 not have attributed so mucli importance to 
 tlie grumbling of liis juniors; but liis wider 
 out-look only enabled liim to see tliat tlieir 
 feelings were one-sided, it did not prevent 
 liim from sharing them; and the gift of 
 a more sympathetic nature did but make 
 him more conscious of how far these feelings 
 were justifiable. Home life at Oakby had 
 its difl&culties, its roughnesses, audits daily 
 trials; but what did this signify to the 
 careless boys who had no dignity to lose, 
 and by whom a harsh word from their 
 father, or a rough one from each other, 
 was forgotten and repeated twenty times a 
 day ? He himself had hardly grown into 
 that independent existence wliich would 
 make an unkindness from a brother an 
 insult, an injustice from a father a thing to 
 be resented beyond the day. It was still 
 all among themselves, they knew each other, 
 and suited each other, and stood up for 
 each other against the world. They were 
 still the children of their father's house, 
 and that tie was much too close and real 
 for surface quarrels and disputes to slacken 
 it. But this stranger, who must be the
 
 16 ."an ENGLISH SQUIRE. 
 
 very first among them all, yet wlio did not 
 know tliem, and wliom they did not know, 
 who had a right to this same identity 
 of interest, and yet who would assuredly 
 neither feel nor win it ! 
 
 Jack accused his father of having acted 
 unjustly to them all ; the younger ones 
 rebelled with a blind prejudice which they 
 did not themselves understand. Cheriton 
 was vividly conscious of the stranger's 
 rights, yet shrank from all they claimed 
 from him ; to the father he recalled resent- 
 ment, weakness of purpose, and a youthful 
 impulse, from the consequences of which 
 he could not escape. The grandmother 
 upstairs, no inconsiderable power in the 
 Oakby household, formulated the vague 
 distaste of her descendants, and strongly 
 expressed her belief that a foreign heir 
 would grieve his father, corrupt his 
 brothers, and ruin his inheritance. 
 
 And now who was this foreign heir, 
 this unknown brother, and what was the 
 explanation oE his existence ?
 
 17 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 THE SON AND HEIE. 
 
 " Love should ride the wind 
 With Spain's dark-glancing daughters. 
 
 Some six or seven and twenty years before 
 the date when his sons were thus dis- 
 cussing their elder brother's arrival, Gerald 
 Lester, then a young man fresh from 
 college, had been sent abroad by his 
 father to separate him from a girl, some- 
 what his inferior in rank, for whom he had 
 formed an attachment. He was not then 
 his father's heir, as he had an elder brother 
 living, and he was supposed to be going to 
 make his way at the bar ; but though well 
 conducted and brilliantly handsome, his 
 talents and tastes were not of an order to 
 make success rapid or certain, and such a 
 VOL. I. c
 
 18 AN ENGLISH SQUIRE. 
 
 marriage as he liacl contemplated would 
 have been, though he had a small indepen- 
 dence, peculiarly inexpedient. Though at 
 times passionate and defiant, he was not a 
 person of much strength of will; and he 
 yielded to the pressure put on him, partly 
 from sense of duty — for he was by no 
 means wanting in principle — and partly 
 because it was too much trouble to resist. . 
 The affair, however, left him in an un- 
 settled state of mind, and increased his 
 dislike to his profession. While wandering 
 about in the south of Spain, he became 
 acquainted, through some letters of in- 
 troduction with which he had been pro- 
 vided, with a family of position of the 
 name of De la Rosa. "While staying with 
 them he met with an accident which 
 disabled him from travelling, and afforded 
 him time and opportunity to flirt and 
 sentimentahze with the beautiful Maria de 
 la Eosa, who fell passionately in love with 
 the handsome Englishman. Gerald's feel- 
 ings were more on the surface, but he was 
 much carried away by the circumstances ;
 
 THE SON AND HEIE. 19 
 
 he felt that he would make a poor return 
 for the hospitality that had been shown 
 him if he only " loved and rode away." 
 
 He was enough irritated by the com- 
 pulsion that his father had put upon him 
 to feel glad to act independently; while 
 the natural opposition of Don Guzman de 
 la Rosa to his daughter's marriage with a 
 foreigner, stirred Gerald to more ardour 
 than Maria's dark eyes had already 
 awakened. Her birth, at any rate, was all 
 that could be desired, her religion ought 
 not to be an objection in one so good and 
 pious, and the nationality of his younger 
 son's wife could be of no consequence to 
 old Mr. Lester. Don Guzman was not a 
 zealous Catholic, and he yielded at length 
 to his daughter's entreaties ; the young 
 Englishman's small independence seeming, 
 in the eyes of the frugal Spaniard, a 
 sufficient fortune. 
 
 Gerald Lester and Maria de la Rosa 
 
 were married at Gibraltar, the difficulties 
 
 of a legal marriage between a Protestant 
 
 and a Roman Catholic being almost in- 
 
 c 2
 
 20 AN ENGLISH SQUIRE. 
 
 surmountable on Spanisli territory. In 
 Gibraltar they lived for some time ; but 
 the marriage was not a happy one. Maria 
 was a mere ignorant child, with all her 
 notions irreconcilably at war with her 
 husband's ; and Gerald, who had his ideals, 
 was very unhappy. 
 
 After some months, the sudden illness 
 of his elder brother summoned him home, 
 and while he was absent his child was 
 born unexpectedly, and his young wife 
 died. He learnt almost at once that he 
 was his father's heir, and that a son 
 was born to him. It seemed no moment 
 for making such a disclosure. His grief 
 for his brother sheltered the shock and 
 surprise of the death of the poor young 
 wife, and he satisfied his conscience by 
 writing to the English clergyman who 
 had solemnized his marriage, and de- 
 siring that he should baptize the boy 
 according to the rites of the English 
 Church. As this stipulation had been 
 made at the marriage, Don Guzman allowed 
 the order to be carried into effect. But as
 
 THE SON AND IlEIK. 21 
 
 no desire was expressed by the father as to 
 a name, it was christened Alvaro Guzman 
 — the Spanish grandfather omitting* the 
 Gerald, which he felt had been an ill- 
 omened name to his daughter. 
 
 Gerald himself, meanwhile, was almost 
 ready to forget the little Alvar's existence. 
 He was ashamed of his foolish marriage, 
 and remorseful at its secrecy and dis- 
 obedience ; the new life opened to him 
 by his brother's death was exceedingly 
 congenial. Why could not those unhappy 
 months be as if thev had never been ! 
 The child was of course an unfamiliar idea 
 to him, and except with an occasional 
 pang he hardly realized its existence ; 
 when the thought was forced on him, he 
 regarded it with aversion. 
 
 Three months had not, however, passed 
 since his wife's death, when he became 
 acquainted with a Miss Cheriton, a young 
 lady of good family and some fortune. 
 She was not very pretty ; but she was full 
 of intelligence and refinement, and she was 
 very good. Perhaps the force of contrast
 
 22 AN ENGLISH SQUIEE. 
 
 was half tlie attraction. When his father 
 urged him to pay his addresses to Miss 
 Cheriton, he felt how willingly he would 
 have done so, but an awkward disclosure 
 lay between them. With all his faults he 
 could not be so dishonourable as to marry 
 her, without telling her that his heir was 
 already born. 
 
 But the friendship between them, so 
 different from anything that he had ever 
 known before, grew and strengthened, till 
 at last one evening he told her all the 
 story. He had married foolishly and 
 secretly, as far as his relations were con- 
 cerned ; his wife was dead and had left a 
 little son. That was the story. Must it 
 be for ever a bar between them ? Eanny 
 Cheriton listened, though she was a merry, 
 quick-tongued girl, in silence. Then she 
 said that he must tell his father the whole 
 truth, and must acknowledge the child; 
 he ought to come home and be brought up 
 as an Englishman. 
 
 " Who is to bring it up ? " asked 
 Gerald.
 
 THE SON AND HEIR. • 23 
 
 " I will," said Fanny simply, amid fierce 
 bluslies, as she saw what her answer 
 imphed. 
 
 Thus supported, Gerald would indeed 
 have been a coward had he shrunk from 
 the communication ; but it was a great 
 blow to his father, who, however, was a 
 stronger man than his son ; and having 
 been satisfied that all was fair and legal, 
 and that Alvaro Guzman Lester was really 
 his lawful heir, and next to Gerald in 
 the entail, said shortly, — 
 
 "Fetch him home, and make an English- 
 man of him if you can. What's done can't 
 be undone." 
 
 But when Gerald arrived at Seville, 
 where Don Guzman lived, and where little 
 Alvar had been taken, he found that by a 
 strange coincidence the child had at once 
 become of importance to his relations on 
 both sides. By the death of Don Guz- 
 man's son, Alvar had become his heir, and 
 when Gerald expressed a desire to take 
 him home, he was met by great reluctance, 
 and by a declaration that the child was so
 
 24 AN ENGLISH SQUIEE. 
 
 delicate that a removal to a nortliern 
 climate would certainly kill him. Perhaps 
 Gerald's consciousness that he would not 
 regard the poor little fellow's death as a 
 misfortune, made him afraid to insist in 
 the face of this argument. At any rate 
 he returned without the child. Don Gruz- 
 man's indifferentism in religion allowed 
 him to consent that Alvar should, when he 
 grew old enough, be taught the English 
 language and the Anglican faith, and even 
 showed how this might be managed by 
 means of an EngHsh clergyman residing at 
 Seville for his health ; so that he was left 
 with a sort of understanding that his 
 mother's family were to have the charge of 
 him for the present. 
 
 Miss Cheriton was much disappointed. 
 
 " Every year will make it harder," she 
 said, and she resolved to use all her in- 
 fluence on Alvar' s behalf. But her father- 
 in-law's death soon after - her marriage 
 deprived her of his powerful aid, and, 
 though his will carefully assured the suc- 
 cession to his son's eldest son, she could
 
 THE SON AND HEIR. 25 
 
 not contend with lier husband's distaste and 
 the Spanish relations' determination not to 
 give np the child. She had no other 
 troubles. Her husband shared her views 
 as to the duties and responsibilities of his 
 station, and they did much for the good of 
 those around them. 
 
 In spite of some harshness, Gerald was 
 a good landlord and a good magistrate, 
 and the most loving of fathers to the fair 
 rosy boy who was now born to them. He 
 never cared quite so much for the 37'ounger 
 ones, but ''Cherry" was his delight and 
 pride, so pretty, so clever, and so apt at 
 riding his little pony, or learning to fire a 
 gun, and so fond of his father ! If Alvar 
 could but have been forgotten ! 
 
 But Mrs. Lester was wise and far-seeing, 
 and she would not allow Cheriton to forget. 
 She talked to him about Alvar ; she made 
 him say his prayers for " my eldest brother 
 away in Spain ;" and she even caused him 
 once to write a little letter expressing his 
 wish to see his big brother, and to show him 
 his pony and his dogs. Perhaps Alvar's
 
 26 AN ENGLISH SQUIEE. 
 
 education was less advanced, for there only 
 arrived a message of love from liim in one 
 of the rare letters that Don Guzman indited 
 to Mr. Lester. 
 
 Cherry ^Yas rather a thoughtful child ; 
 his mother had succeeded in impressing 
 his imagination, and he thought and talked 
 a good deal about Alvar. One attempt 
 was made to bring the child to England ; 
 but, when he reached France, he fell ill, and 
 his grandfather hurried him back again, 
 assuring his father that it was impossible 
 he could live in a northern climate. Mr. 
 Lester was too ready to believe this. 
 
 Soon after Cheriton went to school, Mrs. 
 Lester died suddenly, and her loss was 
 greater than even Cheriton in his passion of 
 childish grief could guess. Grief sharpened 
 Mr. Lester's temper, and the loss of his 
 wife's influence narrowed his mind and 
 character. His mother, who lived with 
 him, and took care of the four children, did 
 not urge on him the need for Alvar' s return. 
 It ceased to be under discussion, and the 
 intercourse grew less and less.
 
 THE SON AND HEIR. 27 
 
 Cherry, in liis school life, naturally 
 forgot for tlie time to think much about 
 him, and at home he had a thousand 
 interests, some shared with his father, 
 some of his own. For Cheriton and Jack 
 inherited their mother's talent, and as they 
 grew up, had their minds full of many 
 things out of their father's ken. When 
 Cherry was twenty-one, his birthday was 
 celebrated with various festivities. He 
 was very popular, and the tenants drank 
 his health. Nature had given him a ready 
 tongue, and the speech he made was much 
 beyond the usual run of boyish eloquence. 
 And as he concluded, thanking them for 
 their kindness, he paused, and with a deep 
 flush, added, " And I wish my eldest 
 brother, who is now in Spain, was here too, 
 that we might know him, and that you 
 miofht drink his health as well as mine." 
 
 " Cheriton, why did you say that ? " 
 said his father afterwards. 
 
 " Father, I thought they would forget 
 Alvar's existence, and — I was afraid of 
 forgetting it myself."
 
 28 AN ENGLISH SQUIRE. 
 
 As Clieriton spoke, it occurred to Mr. 
 Lester Avith new distinctness that he was 
 really doing his second son a wrong, by 
 allowing him to take for the time a place 
 which could not be his permanently. This 
 boy, with his ready tongue, his bright wit, 
 and the look in his face that his father 
 loved, was not his heir; was it well for 
 him to act as if he were so ? With a 
 sudden resolution he wrote his eldest son 
 a letter, requesting him to pay him a visit, 
 and make his brothers' acquaintance. 
 
 Alvar, perhaps hurt at the long neglect, 
 refused to do so, giving as a reason his 
 grandmother's serious illness, and his 
 father gladly let the matter drop. Cheri- 
 ton was disappointed, and asked to be 
 allowed to spend his next long vacation in 
 Spain, and to see his brother. Mr. Lester, 
 mindful of his own experiences, refused 
 decidedly ; and two years more had passed 
 without any serious renewal of the subject 
 (though Alvar' s grandmother died in a 
 few months), when Mr. Lester, while hunt- 
 ing, had a dangerous accident, and though
 
 THE SON AND HEIR. 29 
 
 he escaped comparatively iinburt, the 
 thought would obtrude itself, " A little 
 more, and my boys must have welcomed 
 as the head of the family an absolutely 
 unknown foreigner." Under the influence 
 of this feeling he wrote again to Alvar in 
 a different strain, and received a different 
 answer. Alvar agreed to come, and 
 pledged himself to remain in England for 
 a year, so as to have ample opportunity 
 of becoming acquainted with his relations, 
 and with the sort of life to which he was 
 born as an English gentleman.
 
 30 AN ENGLISH SQUIRE. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 A MOTHER OF HEROES. 
 
 *' And tlie old grandmother sat in the chimney corner 
 and spun." 
 
 Alvar Lester was coming home ; but his 
 image was so complete a blank to his 
 brothers, that they could form no idea as 
 to how it would become them to receive 
 him. Jack, after lingering a little longer 
 by the hall fir-e, observed that he could 
 get nearly two hours' reading before 
 dinner, and went off to his usual occupa- 
 tions. Cheriton's studies were, to say the 
 least, equally important, as he was to take 
 his degree in the ensuing summer; but 
 now he shook his head. 
 
 " I can't fiddle while Eome is burninof. 
 There's too much to think of, and I'm
 
 A MOTHER OF HEEOES. 31 
 
 tired with skating. I shall go and see 
 what granny has to say abont it." 
 
 But when he was left alone, he still 
 stood leaning against the mantelpiece. 
 The Lesters were not a family who took 
 things easily, and perhaps there was not 
 one of them who shrank from the thought 
 of the strange brother as much as he who 
 had so persistently urged his return. Not 
 all his excellent arguments could cure his 
 own distaste to the foreigner. He was 
 shy too, and could not tell how to be 
 affectionate to a stranger, and yet he 
 valued the tie of relationship highly, and 
 could not carelessly ignore it. And he 
 knew that he was jealous of the very rights 
 of eldership on which he had just been 
 insisting. Which of those things that he 
 most valued were his own, and which 
 belonged to the eldest son and heir of 
 Oakby ? What duties and pleasures must 
 he give up to the new-comer ? He did not 
 think that any of their friends would cease 
 to wish to see him at their houses, even if 
 they included Alvar in their invitations.
 
 32 AN EXGLISH SQUIIIK. 
 
 Certainly lie liad a much, more powerful 
 voice than his brothers in the management 
 of the stable, and indeed of all the estate ; 
 but he held this privilege only by his 
 father's will; and probably Alvar would 
 ride very badly, if at all. No — that senti- 
 ment was worthy of Bob himself ! Cer- 
 tainly he could not understand English 
 farming, if he were only half as ignorant 
 of foreign countries as the clever English 
 undergraduate, who did not feel quite sure 
 if he had ever heard of any animals in 
 Spain but bulls and goats, and could have 
 sworn to nothing but grapes as a vegetable 
 product of the peninsula. Nor could any 
 stranger enter into the wants and welfare 
 of his father's tenants, nor be expected to 
 understand the schemes for the amuse- 
 ment and improvement of the neighbour- 
 hood, with which Cheriton was in the 
 habit of concerning himself. 
 
 How could Alvar be secretary of a 
 cricket club, or captain of a volunteer 
 corps ? No more than he could know 
 each volunteer and cricketer, or be known
 
 A MOTHER OF HEROES. 33 
 
 by tliem, with the experience and interest 
 of a hfe-time. " They wouldn't hear of 
 him," thought Cherry. He was too 
 young, and his father was too young, for 
 his thoughts to move easily forward to the 
 time when Alvar was to be the master ; 
 it was simply as elder brother that he re- 
 garded him. " He ought to carve, and 
 sit at the bottom of the table when my 
 father's away!" And having come to 
 this magnificent result of so much medita- 
 tation, he laughed and shook himself, the 
 ludicrous side of his perplexities striking 
 him like a gleam of sunlight as he came to 
 the wise resolution of letting things settle 
 themselves as they came, and ran upstairs 
 to his grandmother. 
 
 The ground-floor of Oakby Hall con- 
 sisted of the hall, before mentioned, on 
 one side of which opened a billiard-room, 
 and on the other a large, long library, con- 
 taining a number of old books in old 
 editions, in which Mr. Lester took a kind 
 of pride, though he rarely disturbed them 
 in their places. There were some pictures, 
 
 VOL. I. D
 
 34 AN ENGLISH SQUIRE. 
 
 dark, dingy, but bearing honoured names, 
 and much respected by the family as '' old 
 masters," though Cheriton had once got 
 into a great scrape by declaring that he 
 had lived all his life in doubt as to whether 
 a certain one in a corner was a portrait or 
 a landscape, until, one exceptionally sunny 
 day, he discovered it to be a fruit and 
 flower piece. 
 
 The room was panelled with dark oak 
 and fitted up with heavy carved furniture, 
 and curtains, which, whatever their ori- 
 ginal tint, were now " harmonious " with 
 the fading of more than one generation. 
 Three small, deeply-recessed windows 
 looked out to the front, and at the end of 
 the long room opposite the door was a 
 large one facing westward, with thick 
 mullions and a broad, low-cushioned 
 window seat. This window gave its 
 character to the room, for through its 
 narrow casements miles and miles of moor 
 and fell were visible; a wide, wild land- 
 scape, marked by no conspicuous peaks, 
 and brightened by no expanse of water.
 
 A MOTHER OF HEROES. 35 
 
 yet with infinite variety in its cold, dark 
 northern colouring, and grandeur and 
 freedom in its apparently limitless extent. 
 
 Here was the place to watch sunset and 
 moonrise, or to see the storms coming up 
 or drifting away, and to hear them, too, 
 howling and whistling round the house or 
 dashing against the window-panes. The 
 west window was one of the strong influ- 
 ences that moulded life at Oakby. This 
 library was the Lesters' ordinary living 
 room ; but behind it was a smaller and more 
 sheltered one, called Mr. Lester's study, 
 which he kept pretty much to himself. 
 
 The dining-room was at the other side 
 of the house, behind the billiard-room, 
 and had a view of a hill-side and fir-trees. 
 It contained all the modern works of art 
 in the house — a large picture of Mr. 
 Lester and his second wife, their children, 
 horses, and dogs, all assembled at the 
 front-door ; and a very stiff pink and 
 white, blue-eyed likeness of Cheriton in 
 huntinof costume, which had been taken 
 when he came of age. 
 D 2 
 
 ?
 
 36 AN ENGLISH SQUIRE. 
 
 There was a fine old staircase with 
 w^ooden wolves of inferior size, but equal 
 ferocity, to their stone brethren without, 
 adorning the corners of the balustrade, and 
 above the library was the drawing-room, 
 whither Cheriton now betook himself. It 
 was a stiff, uninteresting room, but with 
 an unmistakable air of stateliness and posi- 
 tion, and though, like all the house, it 
 lacked the living charm of living taste and 
 arrangement, it possessed what even that 
 cannot always givCj and what is quite im- 
 possible to a new home without it — a 
 certain air of rightness and appropriate- 
 ness, as if the furniture had grown into 
 its place. Still, the room, handsome as it 
 was, and full of things which were choicer 
 and more valuable than their owners knew, 
 was uncomfortable, the chairs were high 
 and the sofas were hard, and the yellow 
 damask, with which they were covered, 
 slippery ; no one had a place of his own 
 in it ; the wild western view gave it an 
 unhomely dreariness, hardly redeemed by 
 an extra window looking south over the
 
 A MOTHER OF HEROES. 37 
 
 flower-garden, which in that bleak climate 
 would have needed more fostering care 
 than it ever obtained, to be very gay, even 
 in summer. Now of course it was snowy 
 and desolate. 
 
 Only in this winter weather would Mrs. 
 Lester have been found in her arm-chair 
 in the drawing-room; but an attack of 
 rheumatism had recently reminded her of 
 her seventy years, and obliged her to re- 
 main in the house, at any rate till the frost 
 was over. She had lived with her son 
 ever since his second wife's death, and 
 had kept his house, and in a manner pre- 
 sided over the education of his children ; 
 but though she was the only woman of 
 the family, and an old woman and a grand- 
 mother, it was not from her that the boys 
 looked for spoiling tenderness, nor were 
 the softer and sweeter elements of the 
 family life, few as they were, fostered by 
 her influence. 
 
 She had handed down to lier children, 
 and still exhibited herself, their height 
 and vigorous strength, and perhaps some-
 
 38 AN ENGLISH SQUIKE. 
 
 thing of their beauty, though she was a 
 darker and more aquiline-featured person 
 than her son, who resembled his father. 
 Whether the grandchildren inherited her 
 clear, but narrow vision, her upright, but 
 prejudiced mind, and her will, that went 
 its way subject to no side lights or 
 shadows, perhaps it was early days to tell. 
 8he was an entirely unintellectual, un- 
 imaginative person ; but within her expe- 
 rience, which was extremely limited — as 
 she could hardly realize, the existence, 
 inuch less the merits of natures unlike her 
 own — she had a good deal of shrewd 
 sense, and it was much easier to feel her 
 strictures unjust than to prove them so. 
 
 She had a thorough knowledge of, and 
 had all her life been accustomed to share 
 m, the out-door sports and occupations of 
 country life, and very recently had been 
 able to ride and drive with the skill of 
 long practice. These had been the plea- 
 sures of her youth ; but though she was 
 rather an unfeminine woman, she had 
 never been in any sense a fast one. She
 
 A MOTHEE OF HEROES. 39 
 
 was altogether devoid of coquettish in- 
 stincts, and though she had been a hand- 
 some girl, who had passed her life almost 
 entirely among sporting men, and whose 
 tongue was in consequence somewhat free, 
 she had hardly left through the country 
 side the memory even of an old flirtation. 
 
 Within doors she had few occupations ; 
 but when her daughter-in-law's death 
 rendered her presence at Oakby again 
 necessary, she had taken the command of 
 the children, and ruled them vigorously 
 according to her lights. She wished to see 
 them grow up after her ideal, and would 
 have despised them utterly if they had 
 gambled, drunk, or dissipated their pro- 
 perty by extravagance. She would have 
 thought very slightingly of them if their 
 taste had been exclusively for an indoor 
 or studious life, or if they had been 
 awkward riders or bad shots, though she 
 recognized the duty of " attention to their 
 studies " in moderation, particularly on 
 wet days. 
 
 She was tolerably satisfied with her
 
 40 AN ENGLISH SQUIRE. 
 
 grandsons, wlio had imbibed tliis view 
 of life with the smell of the heather 
 and the pines, but she was a little suspi- 
 cious of the Cheriton blood, and of the 
 talents of which she had succeeded in 
 making Cherry and Jack half ashamed. 
 Perhaps her granddaughter was her fa- 
 vourite, and she rejoiced in the girl's love 
 for an out-door life, and certainly did not 
 discourage the outrageous idleness with 
 which Nettie neglected the lessons she was 
 supposed to learn of the governess at 
 Oakby Rectory. 
 
 On the present occasion Cheriton found 
 her in an unusually thoughtful mood. Her 
 bright dark eyes were still so strong that 
 she rarely used glasses; nor did she often 
 give in to wearing a shawl ; but her dress, 
 which was scrupulously appropriate to her 
 age and circumstances — handsome black 
 silk, and soft white cap fastened under her 
 chin — had an oddly inappropriate air on 
 her tall, upright figure, and strong, marked 
 features. 
 
 " Well, granny, so he's really coming,"
 
 A MOTHER OF HEROES. 41 
 
 said Clieriton cheerfully, as lie sat down 
 opposite to her. 
 
 "Oh, your father's been here," said Mrs. 
 Lester. '* We'll have to do with him for a 
 year, I suppose." 
 
 " Oh, we'll get on with him somehow. 
 I mean to strike up a friendship," returned 
 Cherry boldly. 
 
 " You'll be very soft if you do. Your 
 father and I, remember, know what these 
 Spaniards are like ; they're a bad lot — a 
 bad lot." 
 
 '' Well, my father ought to know — cer- 
 tainly ! But you see he has told us so 
 little about them." 
 
 " I have told my son that 1 think he 
 couldn't have chosen a worse time to have 
 him home — just when you lads are all 
 growing up, and ready to learn all the 
 tricks he can teach you." 
 
 "What tricks ?" said Cheriton, feeling 
 much insulted by the suggestion. 
 
 " D'ye think I'm going to teach you 
 beforehand ? " 
 
 " I assure you, granny," said Cheriton
 
 42 AN ENGLISH SQUIRE. 
 
 impressively, " that the tricks I see at Ox- 
 ford are such that it would be impossible 
 for Alvar to beat them." 
 
 " And what have you been up to now ? '* 
 said his grandmother sharply. 
 
 '' Why, granny, I really shouldn't like 
 to tell you the half of them. But I'm 
 quite accustomed to 'tricks,' a monkey 
 couldn't be more used to them. There 
 was that affair with the chapel door — " 
 
 " Oh, don't tell me your monkey tricks," 
 said his grandmother, with half-humorous 
 indignation. " 1 know what they lead to ; 
 they're bad enough. But your half-brother 
 will smoke like a chimney and drink like 
 a fish, and gamble before the lads on 
 a Sunday. If those are your Oxford 
 manners — " 
 
 " Really," said Cheriton seriously, '' we 
 have no reason to suppose that he will do 
 anything of the kind ; and if he did, the boys 
 are very little in the mood to imitate him. 
 I only hope they'll be decently civil to him." 
 
 Mrs. Lester was herself a much cooler and 
 more imperturbable person than any of her
 
 A MOTHER OF HEROES. 43 
 
 descendants ; but she was often the cause 
 of irritation in others, from a calm per- 
 sistency that ignored all arguments and 
 refutation ; and she was especially apt to 
 come across Cheriton, whom she did not 
 regard with the admiration due from a 
 loving grandmother to a dutiful, handsome 
 grandson. 
 
 "It's a great misfortune, as I always 
 told my son it would be. You, Cherry, are 
 fond of strangers and outlandish ways, so 
 maybe he'll suit you." 
 
 " Well, granny, I hope he may, and 
 we'll get you to come and light our pipes 
 for us," said Cherry, keeping his temper. 
 But the coaxing sweetness that made him 
 the one non-conductor of quarrels in a suffi- 
 ciently stormy household, was apparently 
 lost, for Mrs. Lester went on, — 
 
 '' He'll suit the Seytons better than he'll 
 suit us." 
 
 " There's nothing to say against the 
 Seytons noio,'' said Cheriton hotly; mutter- 
 ing under his breath, " I hate prejudice." 
 
 Mr. Lester's entrance interrupted the
 
 44 AN ENGLISH SQUIRE. 
 
 discussion, though a long story of a 
 broken fence between his property and 
 Mr. Sey ton's did not give it a smoother 
 turn. 
 
 As Mr. Sey ton's fences had been in a 
 disgraceful condition for at least as long 
 as Cheriton could remember, he was well 
 aware that the present grievance was only 
 an outlet for a deeper- seated one, but his 
 grandmother struck in, — 
 
 " Ah, Cheriton may see what it is to 
 take to bad ways and bad connexions. 
 I've been telling him his half-brother is 
 likely enough to make friends with the 
 Seytons, and bring their doings over 
 here." 
 
 " With a couple of boys younger than 
 Jack," cried Cheriton. " Any one would 
 think, granny, that we had a deadly feud 
 with the Seytons." 
 
 '* I'll not hear the matter discussed," 
 loudly interposed Mr. Lester. " Hold 
 your tongue, Cherry. Alvar will have 
 to mind what he is about. I'm sick 
 of the sound of liis name. If lie had a
 
 A MOTHEE OF HEROES. 45 
 
 good English one of his own it would be 
 something." 
 
 " Why hasn't he, then ? " was on the 
 tip of Cherry's tongue, but he suppressed 
 it ; and as his grandmother walked away, 
 saying that it was time to dress for dinner, 
 he got up and stood near his father. 
 
 '* I say, dad, never mind ; we'll get 
 along somehow," he said. 
 ■ The expression of passionate irritation 
 passed out of Mr. Lester's face, and was 
 succeeded by a look of regretful affection 
 as he put his hand on his favourite son's 
 shoulder. 
 
 "I'd give half I'm worth, my boy, to 
 undo it. It's a wrong to you. Cherry— a 
 wrong. It gives me no pleasure to think 
 of the place in his hands after I'm gone." 
 
 *' Father," interposed Cheriton firmly, 
 '* the only wrong is in speaking of it so. 
 It is no wrong to any of us. And you 
 know," he added shyly and under his 
 breath, " mamma would never let us think 
 so." 
 
 Mr. Lester was a person who would not
 
 46 AN ENGLISH SQUIRE. 
 
 endure a touch on his tenderest feelings. 
 He had never mentioned the young wife, 
 whose word had been his law, to the son 
 whom he adored for her sake, and who 
 influenced his violent yet impressionable 
 nature by the inheritance of hers. That in- 
 fluence led him to listen to the words which 
 he could not controvert ; but he did not love 
 his unknown son the better for the pain 
 which this defence of him had cost him. 
 Clieriton felt that he had ventured almost 
 too far, and he turned off the subject after 
 a pause, by saying quaintly, — 
 
 '' I wonder what the fox thinks of it 
 all." 
 
 " What d'ye mean ? " 
 
 " Don't you remember that old lady who 
 came to see granny once, and when Jack 
 and I raved about a day's hunting, would 
 say nothing but 'I wonder what the fox 
 thinks of it all ? ' That was making the 
 other side much too important, wasn't 
 it?" 
 
 '' Ah, you're ready with your jokes," 
 said his father, not wishing to follow out
 
 A MOTHER OF HEROES. 47 
 
 tbe little fable, but witli a daily sense of 
 liking for tlie voice and smile with which 
 it was uttered. " Come, I'll have a pipe 
 with you before dinner."
 
 48 AN ENGLISH SQUIRE. 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 STRANGERS YET ! 
 
 '* My mother came from Spain . . . 
 And I am Spanish in myself 
 And in my likings." 
 
 It was late on the afternoon of Christmas 
 Eve. The hall at Oakby was full of 
 branches of holly and ivy. Nettie, perched 
 on the top of an oak cabinet, was sticking 
 sprays into the frame of her grandfather's 
 picture, and Jack and Bob were arranging, 
 according to time-honoured custom, a 
 great bunch of bright-berried holly over 
 the mantelpiece, to do which in safety was 
 a work unattainable by feminine petticoats. 
 
 "It's a great shame of Cherry not to 
 come in time to help," said Nettie. 
 
 " They'll have got hold of him down at
 
 STRANGEES YET ! 49 
 
 the cliurcli," said Jack. " There, that's 
 first-rate." 
 
 ''I say, Jack, do you know Virginia 
 Seyton came home yesterday ? Isn't it 
 fimny that they should have one too ?" 
 
 "One what?" 
 
 « Why, a relation, a sister, when we've 
 got a brother. I wonder — " 
 
 Suddenly Nettie stopped, as a crash of 
 wheels sounded on the frosty gravel, and 
 the front door bell pealed loudly. 
 
 " Oh, Jack ! " and Nettie jumped off the 
 cabinet at one bound, six feet high though 
 it was, and caught hold of the end of 
 Jack's coat in a perfect agony of shyness. 
 " Oh, let's run away ! " 
 
 " Let go. I can't get down. Stand still 
 and don't be silly," said Jack, gruffly, as 
 he got off the steps, while the butler hurried 
 forward and threw open the door. Nettie 
 stood in the fire-light, her golden hair 
 flying in the gust of wind, her hands to- 
 gether, like a wild thing at bay. Bob re- 
 mained perched, half way up the ladder, 
 and Jack made a step or two forward. 
 
 VOL. I. E
 
 60 AN ENGLISH SQUIRE. 
 
 A tall figure in a dark cloak, with bright 
 crimson lining, and a large felt liat, stood 
 in the doorway. 
 
 " Are you Cheriton ? " he said eagerly, 
 and with a strong foreign accent. 
 
 " No ; he's out. I'm Jack. How d'ye 
 do ? We didn't know when you were 
 coming," said Jack, in a tone from which 
 embarrassment took every shade of cor- 
 diality. He put out his hand quickly, 
 however, as the stranger made a movement 
 as if possibly intending a more tender 
 salutation. Alvar took it, then removed 
 his liat, and advancing towards the speech- 
 less J^ettie said, — 
 
 '' This is my sister ? May I not salute 
 her?" and lightly touched her cheek with 
 his lips. "I have thought of you, my 
 sister," he said. 
 
 " Have you?" stammered Nettie, hang- 
 ing down her head like a child. Bob 
 remained motionless on his ladder, and 
 Jack said, — 
 
 '* Here's my father," as Mr. Lester came 
 hurriedly into the hall, nearly as much
 
 STRANGERS TET ! 51 
 
 embarrassed as his children, and pale with 
 an agitation which they did not share. 
 Alvar turned round, and bowed low with a 
 respectful grace that his brothers certainly 
 could not have imitated. 
 
 Mr. Lester came forward and held out 
 his hand. It needed all his innate sense of 
 good breeding to overcome the repulsion 
 which the very idea of his strange son 
 caused him. The sense of owing him 
 amends for long-neglected duty, the know- 
 ledge how utterly out of place this foreigner 
 must be as heir of Oakby, the feeling that 
 by so recognizing him he was wronging 
 alike his forefathers and his other children, 
 while he yet knew how much his whole life 
 through he had wronged Alvar himself, 
 came upon him with renewed force. Then 
 as he heard such tones, and saw such a face 
 as he had not seen for years, what rush of 
 long past sentiment, what dead and buried 
 love and hate came rushing over him 
 with such agitating force, that in the 
 effort to avoid a scene, and a display 
 of feehng which, yielded to, might have 
 E 2 
 
 UBRARV
 
 52 AN ENGLISH SQUIRE. 
 
 smoothed the relations between them for 
 ever, his greeting to his son was as cold 
 as ice ! 
 
 " How do you do, Alvar ? I am glad to 
 see jou. We did not expect you so soon. 
 You must have found your journey very 
 cold." 
 
 '' I did not delay. It was my wish to 
 see my father," said Alvar, a little wistfully. 
 " My father, I trust, will find me a dutiful 
 son." 
 
 Here Bob giggled, and Jack nearly 
 knocked him off the ladder with the 
 nudge evoked by his greater sense of 
 propriety. 
 
 " No doubt — no doubt," said Mr. Lester. 
 " I hope we shall understand each other, 
 soon. Where's Cheriton ? Jack, suppose 
 you show — him — your brother, his room. 
 Dinner at seven, you know. I daresay 
 you're hungry." 
 
 " I did take a cup of coffee, but it was 
 not good," said Alvar, as he followed Jack 
 upstairs ; and the latter, mortally afraid of 
 a Ute-d-tete, shut him into the bedroom
 
 STRANGERS YET ! 53 
 
 prepared for him, and rushed downstairs 
 to encounter Cheriton, who came hurrying 
 in, thinking himself late for dinner. 
 
 " Cherry, he's come ! " 
 
 " Oh, Cherry, he's so queer ! He makes 
 pretty speeches, and he bows ! " 
 
 " He's a regular nigger, he's so black ! " 
 
 " Oh, Cherry, it's aivfull " 
 
 '' What have you done with him ? 
 Where's the squire ? " said Cherry, as soon 
 as he could make himself heard. 
 
 *' Oh, papa has seen him, and Jack's 
 taken him into his room," said Nettie. 
 
 *' He thought 1 was you," said Jack. 
 
 Cheriton stood still for a moment, as 
 shy as the rest, then, with an effort, he ran 
 upstairs. 
 
 ''It's only kind to go and say how d'ye 
 do to a fellow," he thought, as he tapped 
 at the bedroom door, and entered with 
 outstretched hand, and blushing to the 
 tips of his ears. " Oh, how d'ye do? I'm 
 so sorry I was out of the way ; they kept 
 me to nail up the wreaths. I'm very glad 
 to see you. Aren't you very cold? "
 
 54 AN ENGLISH SQtJIEE. 
 
 Probably the foreigner understood about 
 half of this lucid and connected greeting ; 
 but something in the warmth of the tone 
 made him come forward eagerly. 
 
 " You are then really my brother Cheri- 
 ton ? I thought it was again the other 
 one." 
 
 '' What, Jack ? Yes, we're thought alike, 
 I believe." 
 
 " I do not see that," said Alvar, con- 
 templating him gravely; "but I have 
 known you in my thoughts — always." 
 
 "I'm sure — we've all thought a great 
 deal about you. But there's no one to 
 help you. Have you got your things ? I'll 
 ring," nearly pulling down the bell-rope. 
 " And, look here, I'll just dress and come 
 back, and go down with you — shall I ? " 
 
 Cheriton's summons was rapidly an- 
 swered, as curiosity inspired the servants 
 as well as their masters ; and leaving Alvar 
 to make his toilet, he hastened upstairs. 
 The three brothers slept in a long passage 
 at the top of the house, over the drawing- 
 room. As Cherry's step sounded, both
 
 STRANGERS YET ! 55 
 
 his brothers' doors burst open simulta- 
 neously, and Jack and Bob, in various 
 stages of dressing, at once ejaculated, — 
 "Well!" 
 
 " How can I tell ? It's awfully late. I 
 shall never be ready," and Cherry banged 
 his own door, too much astounded by the 
 new brother to stand a discussion on him. 
 As soon as he was ready he went down 
 stairs, and found Alvar, rather to his 
 relief, attired in correct evening cos- 
 tume. 
 
 " I suppose you haven't seen my grand- 
 mother yet ? " he said. 
 
 " Your grandmother ? I did not know 
 there was a grandmother," said Alvar, in 
 a much puzzled voice, which, together with 
 the sense of how much his brother had to 
 learn, nearly upset Cherry's gravity. 
 
 '' My father's mother, you know. She 
 lives with us," he said. " She is your 
 grandmother too." 
 
 " Ah ! " said Alvar, " I loved my grand- 
 mother much. This other one, she will be 
 most venerable, I am sure."
 
 56 AN ENGLISH SQUIEE. 
 
 " Come along then," said Cherry, unable 
 to stand more conversation at present. 
 
 Mrs. Lester, whatever her private opi- 
 nions might be, had too much respect for 
 the heir, for herself, and for the house of 
 Lester, not to attire herself with unusual 
 dignity, and to rise and advance to receive 
 her grandson. 
 
 ''How do you do, Alvar?" she said. 
 " You have been a long time in coming to 
 see us." 
 
 Alvar, after a moment's pause, as if 
 doubtful what sort of salutation would be 
 acceptable, bowed low and kissed her 
 hand. Nettie laughed; but her grand- 
 mother drew herself up as if the act of 
 homage was not altogether displeasing to 
 her, and then looked keenly at the new 
 grandson, who, as far as looks went, 
 was no unworthy scion of the handsome 
 Lesters. 
 
 He was as tall as his father, though of 
 a different and slighter make, and stood 
 with a sort of graceful stifiness, unlike the 
 easy loose-limbed air of most young Eng-
 
 STRANGEES YET ! 57 
 
 lish gentlemen. He had a dark olive skin, 
 and oval face ; but his features were not 
 unlike the prevaiHng family type; and 
 though his hair was raven black, it grew 
 and curled in the picturesque fashion of 
 his father's, which Cheriton alone of the 
 other sons inherited. But he had the 
 splendid black liquid eyes, with blue whites, 
 and slender arched eyebrows of his Spanish 
 mother, and possessed a picturesque foreign 
 beauty that seemed to group the fair- 
 haired brothers into a common-place herd. 
 He had a grave, impassive face, and held 
 his head up with an air suggestive of 
 Spanish grandees. 
 
 It was very difl&cult to make conversa- 
 tion when they went in to dinner, the more 
 so as Alvar evidently did not easily follow 
 rapid English, and either he was bewil- 
 dered by new impressions, or not very 
 open to them, for he had not much to say 
 about his journey. Cheriton, as he tried 
 to talk as if there was no perplexing 
 stranger present, could not help wondering 
 whether all that was so strange to himself
 
 58 AN ENGLISH SQUIRE. 
 
 came with any familiarity to his father. 
 Had he known what his son would be 
 like ? Could he touch any chord to which 
 Alvar could find a response ? Had eyes 
 like those great rolling black ones ever 
 looked love into his own ? And if so, was 
 it all forgotten, or was the remembrance 
 distasteful ? 
 
 " He was older than I am novf," thought 
 Cherry. " Surely the thoughts of to-day 
 could never fade away entirely." 
 
 Mr. Lester uttered no word that betrayed 
 any knowledge of his son's country. He 
 spoke less than usual, and after due in- 
 quiries for Alvar' s relations, entirely on 
 local matters ; Alvar volunteered few 
 remarks, but as the dessert appeared, he 
 turned to Cherry, who sat beside him, and 
 said, — 
 
 "Is it not now the custom to smoke ? " 
 
 " Not at dinner," said Cherry hurriedly, 
 as his father replied, — 
 
 " Certainly not," and all the bright 
 blue eyes round the table stared at Alvar, 
 who for the first time coloured, and said, — ■
 
 STRANGERS YET ! 59 
 
 " Pardon, I have transgressed." 
 
 " We'll go and have a pipe presently," 
 said Cherry ; and oh ! how ardently he 
 longed for that terrible evening to be over. 
 
 " It was a liorricl Christmas Eve," mut- 
 tered Nettie to Bob ; and perhaps her 
 father thought so too, for he rang the bell 
 early for prayers. 
 
 "What is this?" said Alvar, looking 
 puzzled, as a prayer-book was placed before 
 him. 
 
 <« We're going to have prayers," said 
 Nettie, rather pertly. " Don't you ? " 
 
 " Ah, it is a custom," said Alvar, and he 
 took the book, and stood and knelt as they 
 did, evidently watching for his cue. 
 
 When this ceremony was over. Bob and 
 Nettie rushed off, evidently to escape say- 
 ing good-night, and Cheriton invited the 
 stranger to come and smoke with him, 
 conducting him to a little smoking-room 
 downstairs, which was only used for 
 visitors, as the boys generally smoked in 
 a room at the top of the house, into 
 which Cherry knew Bob and Jack would
 
 60 AN ENGLISH SQUIRE. 
 
 greatly resent any intrusion. Mr. Lester 
 walked off with a general good-night. 
 Alvar watched Cherry kiss his grand- 
 mother, but contented himself with a bow. 
 Jack discreetly retired, and when Cheriton 
 had ascertained that Alvar never smoked 
 a pipe, but only a cigar or a cigarette, and 
 had made him sit down by the fire, Alvar 
 said; — 
 
 "My father is then a member of the 
 clerical party ? " 
 
 " I don't think I quite understand you," 
 said Cherry. 
 
 " Your prayers — ^he is religious ? " 
 
 " Oh, most people have prayers — I don't 
 think we're more particular than others. 
 My father and Mr. EUesmere, our rector, 
 are friends, naturally," said Cherry, feeling 
 it very difficult to explain himself. 
 
 " My grandfather," said Alvar, " is 
 indifferent." 
 
 " But — you're a Protestant, aren't you ? " 
 
 " Oh, yes. I have been so instructed. 
 But I do not interest myself in the 
 subject."
 
 STRANGEKS YET ! 61 
 
 Cheriton had heard many odd things 
 at Oxford said about religion, but never any- 
 thing to equal the naivete of this avowal. 
 He was quite unprepared with a reply, 
 and Alvar went on, — 
 
 " I shall of course conform. I am not 
 an infidel; but I leave those things to 
 your — clergy, do you not call them ? " 
 
 '' Well, some people would say you were 
 right," said Cherry, thankful that Jack 
 was not present to assert the inalienable 
 right of private judgment. 
 
 " And politics ? " said Alvar ; " I know 
 about your Tories and your Whigs. On 
 which side do you range yourself ? " 
 
 *' Well, my father's a Tory and High 
 Churchman, which I suppose is what you 
 mean by belonging to the clerical party ; 
 and I — if all places were like this — I'd like 
 things very well as they are. Jack, how- 
 ever, vNTOuld tell you we were going fast to 
 destruction." 
 
 " There are then dissensions among 
 you?" 
 
 " Oh, he'll come round to something, I
 
 62 AN ENGLISH SQUIRE. 
 
 dare saj. But our English politics must 
 seem mere child's play to you." 
 
 '' I have taken no iDart," said Alvar. 
 «« My grandfather would conform to any- 
 thing for peace, and I, you know, my 
 brother, am in Spain an Englishman — 
 though a Spaniard here." 
 
 "" I hope you'll be an Englishman soon." 
 
 ''It is the same with marriage," said 
 Alvar ; "I have never betrothed myself, 
 nor has my grandfather sought to marry 
 me. He said I must see English ladies 
 also. One does nob always follow the 
 heart in these matters," he concluded 
 rather sentimentally. 
 
 " No one would ever dream of your 
 following anything else," said Cherry, 
 beginning gruffly, but half choked with 
 amusement as he spoke. 
 
 " No ? And you, you have not decided ? 
 Ah, you blush, my brother; I am in- 
 discreet." 
 
 " I didn't blush — at least that's nothing. 
 Turkey-cock was my nickname at school 
 always," said Cherry hastily.
 
 STRANGERS YET ! 63 
 
 " I do not understand," said Alvar; and 
 after Cherry had explained the nature and 
 character of turkey-cocks, he said, '' But I 
 think that was not civil." 
 
 " Civil ! It wasn't meant to be. English 
 boys don't stand much upon civility. But," 
 he added, as he knocked the ashes out of 
 his joipe, " if we are rough, I hope you 
 won't mind ; the boys don't mean any 
 harm by it. You'll soon get used to our 
 ways, and — and we'll do our best to make 
 you feel at home with us." 
 
 A sudden sense of pity for the lonely 
 brother, a stranger in his father's house, 
 softened Cheriton's face and voice as he 
 spoke, though he felt himself to be pro- 
 mising a good deal. 
 
 Alvar looked at him with the curious, 
 impassive, unembarrassed air that distin- 
 guished him. *' You are not ' rougli ! ' " 
 he said ! '' you are my brother. I am told 
 that here you do not embrace each other. 
 I am an Englishman, I give you my 
 hand." 
 
 Cheriton took the slender, oval-shaped
 
 64 AN ENGLISH SQUIRE. 
 
 hand, which yet closed on his more angular 
 one, with a firm, vigorous grasp. 
 
 "All right," he said; "you'd better ask 
 me if you don't know what to do. And 
 now I think you must be tired. I'll 
 show you 3^our room. I hope you won't 
 mind the cold much ; I am sorry it's so 
 frosty." 
 
 " Oh, the cold is absolutely detestable, 
 but I am not tired," said Alvar briskly. 
 
 It was more than Cheriton could say, as 
 he shut this perplexing brother into the 
 best bedroom, which he could not asso- 
 ciate with anything but a state visit. He 
 felt oppressed with a sense of past and 
 future responsibility, of distaste which he 
 knew was mild compared to what every 
 other member of his family would experi- 
 ence, of contempt, and kindliness and pity, 
 and, running through all, the exceeding 
 ludicrousness, from an Oakby point of 
 view, of some of Alvar's remarks. 
 
 This latter ingredient in his perplexity 
 was strengthened, when he got upstairs, 
 by Jack, who, detecting his dispirit;ed look,
 
 STRANGERS YET ! 65 
 
 proceeded to encourage him by remarking 
 solemnly, — 
 
 '' Well, I consider it a great family mis- 
 fortune. Dispositions and habits that are 
 entirely incongruous can't be expected to 
 agree." 
 
 " Do shut up, Jack ; you're not writing 
 an essay. Now I see where Alvar's turn 
 for speechifying comes from ; you get it 
 somehow from the same stock ! All I 
 know is, it's too bad to be down on a 
 fellow when he's cast on our hands hke 
 this. Now I am going to bed, I'm tired to 
 death ; and if we're late on Christmas 
 morning, we shall never hear the last 
 of it." 
 
 While the young brothers thus discussed 
 this strange disturber of their accustomed 
 life, their father's thoughts were still more 
 perplexing. He had so long put aside the 
 unwelcome thought of his eldest son that 
 he felt inclined to regard his presence 
 with incredulity. Surely this dark, stately 
 stranger could have no concern with his 
 beloved homestead with its surrounding 
 
 VOL. I. r
 
 66 AN ENGLISH SQUIEE. 
 
 moors and fells. This boy had never 
 ridden by his side, nor taken his first shots 
 from his gun, nor differed from him about 
 the management of his estate. 
 
 Oakby, with all its duties and pleasures, 
 had no connexion with him; and with 
 Oakby Mr. Lester had for many years felt 
 himself to be wholly identified. But those 
 dark eyes, those slow, soft accents, that air 
 so strange to his sons, awoke memories of 
 another self. He saw Cheri ton's puzzled 
 attempt at understanding the strange 
 brother. But this strange son was not 
 strange to him. He knew the very turns 
 of expression that Alvar's imperfect Eng- 
 lish suggested. For the first time for 
 years the Spanish idioms and Spanish 
 words came back to his memory. He 
 could have so talked as to set his son in 
 accordance with his surroundings, he un- 
 derstood, to his own surprise, exactly 
 where this very new shoe would pinch. 
 
 But these memories, though fresh and 
 living, were utterly distasteful, and nothing 
 that cost him pain awoke in Mr. Lester's
 
 STEANGERS YET ! 67 
 
 mind any answering tenderness. He was 
 a man with a weak will, a careful con- 
 science, and imperfectly controlled temper 
 and affections. 
 
 He much preferred to do right than to 
 do wrong, and he generally did do right ; 
 in this one crucial instance he had neglected 
 and slurred over the right thing for years, 
 and now he was not sufficiently accus- 
 tomed to question himself to realize how 
 far he could have made amends for past 
 neglect, how far he could now make his 
 son fit for the heirship of which he neither 
 could nor would deprive him. No, Alvar 
 was a painful sight to him, therefore he 
 would continue to ignore him as far as 
 possible. He stood in the beloved Che- 
 riton's light, and therefore all the small 
 difficulties that his incongruous presence 
 caused would be left to Cheriton to set to 
 rights, or not be set to rights at all. 
 
 It was pleasant, and it was not very 
 
 difficult to Mr. Lester, as he woke in the 
 
 light of the Christmas dawn, to turn his 
 
 mind from Alvar's presence to the many 
 
 F 2
 
 68 AN ENGLISH SQUIRE. 
 
 duties that the season demanded of him. 
 The children all woke up curious and half- 
 unfriendly. Cheriton wondered what Alvar 
 was thinking of. But they none of them 
 knew to what thoughts or feelings the 
 pealing, crashing Christmas bells awoke 
 the unknown heir. 
 
 " Nay, you'll know no more what he's 
 after than if he was yonder picture," 
 said the grandmother in answer to some 
 remarks, and as Cheriton heard him coming 
 down stairs he felt that this was exactly 
 the state of the case.
 
 69 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 THE SEYTONS OF ELDEKTHWArTB. 
 
 "All things here are out of joint." 
 
 In the midst of a waste of unswept snow 
 across the bill behind Oakby Hall, there 
 was a large old house, originally of some- 
 thing the same square and substantial 
 type, but of more ambitious architecture, 
 for there were turrets at the four corners, 
 overgrown and almost borne down by 
 enormous bushes of ancestral ivy ; while 
 the great gates leading to the stables were 
 of fanciful and beautiful ironwork, now 
 broken and falling into decay. Great tree- 
 trunks lay here and there on undulating 
 slopes, the shrubberies flung wild branches 
 over the low stone wall dividing them 
 from the park, where a gate swung weakly
 
 70 AN ENGLISH SQUIRE. 
 
 on its hinges. There were few tall trees, 
 but here and there along the drive a soli- 
 tary beech of great size and beauty sug- 
 gested the course of an avenue once with- 
 out its equal in the country round. An 
 old man was feebly sweeping away the 
 snow in front of the house, and a gentle- 
 man stood smoking a cigar on the steps — 
 a slenderly-made man, with a delicate, 
 melancholy face, and a pointed grey beard, 
 dressed in a shabby shooting-coat. His 
 eyes turned from the slow old sweeper, 
 past the relics of the avenue, to a ruinous- 
 looking lodge, the chimneys of which sent 
 no smoke into the frosty air. 
 
 Mr. Seyton of Elderthwaite was used to 
 these signs of adversity, but to-day he 
 was struck by them anew, for he was won- 
 dering how they would look in the eyes of 
 a stranger. Oakby, with its strict laws, 
 its rough humours, its ready-made life, 
 would be a strange experience to its foreign 
 heir. What would Elderthwaite, with 
 ruined fortunes and blighted reputation be 
 to a petted and prosperous girl, brought
 
 THE SETTONS OF ELDERTHWAITE. 71 
 
 up by gentle, religious women, in all the 
 proprieties and sociabilities of well-to-do 
 country villa life ? What would his 
 daughter say to the home she had left as a 
 child, and had never seen since ? 
 
 The Seytons were a family of older 
 standing in the county than the Lesters, 
 and had once been of superior fortune. 
 At present their condition was, and rightly, 
 very different. The Lesters, with many 
 shortcomings, had been men who, on the 
 whole, had endeavoured to do their duty 
 in their station, and had governed their 
 tenants, brought up their children, attended 
 to public business, and managed their own 
 affairs in an honest and right-minded, if not 
 always in a very enlightened fashion. 
 
 But the Seytons had had a bad name 
 for generations. It is true that no tales 
 of wild and picturesque wickedness were 
 told of the present head of the house, such 
 as had made his father's name a bye-word 
 for harshness and violence, and for all 
 manner of evil living; but the family 
 traditions were strong against him ; he
 
 72 AK ENGLISH SQUIRE. 
 
 inlierited debt and a dishonoured name, 
 and, alas ! with them the tendencies and 
 temptations that had brought them about. 
 He had looked with bitter, injured eyes 
 at the timber that was sold for his father's 
 gaming debts; but many a noble tree fell 
 to pay his own, before he married a girl, 
 innocent, high-minded, and passionate- 
 tempered. 
 
 It was a very unhappy marriage, and 
 Mr. Seyton never forgave his wife for her 
 broken heart, nor himself for breaking it. 
 When she died, her relations took away 
 her daughter, pledging themselves to pro- 
 vide for her, if she were left undisturbed 
 in their hands. The father had enough to 
 do with his sons. The eldest, Roland, 
 was a fine, handsome fellow, and began 
 life with the sad disadvantage of being ex- 
 pected to go wrong. He got a commission, 
 but during the short intervals that he 
 spent at home, was personally unpopular. 
 
 In one of these he took a great fancy to 
 Cheriton Lester during an interval between 
 the latter's school and college life, and
 
 THE SEYTONS OF ELDERTHWAITE. 73 
 
 Cheriton being warned against bim as a 
 bad companion, stuck to liim with equal 
 perverseness and generosity. Roland was 
 much the elder of the two, but Cherry's 
 vigorous youth took the lead in the friend- 
 ship, and gave it his own impress. It was 
 ended by such a scandal in Elderthwaite 
 village as those which had made the name 
 of Roland Sey ton's grandfather hated by 
 all the country round, as one by whom no 
 man's hearth was respected, and with 
 whom no man's daughter was safe. 
 
 The discovery shocked Cheriton un- 
 speakably ; all the parties concerned were 
 well known to him, and he felt that of 
 such sins he could never think or speak 
 lightly. But he would not join in loud or 
 careless blame of his friend, who perhaps 
 felt his truest pang of repentance at the 
 boy's confused miserable face in the one 
 parting interview allowed by Mr. Lester 
 before Roland joined his regiment, about 
 to sail for India. 
 
 " You need not have been afraid, sir," 
 Roland said, when accused of having set
 
 74 AN ENGLISH SQUIRE. 
 
 him a bad example; "I knew liow to 
 choose my confidant." 
 
 After Roland's departure, other tales to 
 his discredit, and debts which it was im- 
 possible to pay, came to his father's ears, 
 and these additional troubles helped to 
 strengthen habits of self-indulgence already 
 formed, which had made Mr. Seyton a 
 man old before his time, melancholy-faced 
 and gentle-mannered, whom nobody re- 
 spected and nobody disliked. But the 
 two younger boys had a bad start in life, 
 and seemed little likely to redeem the 
 family fortunes. 
 
 It was not often that Mr. Seyton thought 
 of anything but the immediate dulness and 
 discomfort of the hour, or of its small 
 alleviations ; but to-day these recollections 
 pressed on him. He thought, too, of his 
 shabby furniture, and his ill-conducted 
 household ; how unfit a home for his well- 
 dowered daughter ; how unlike both her 
 aunt's house and the pleasant foreign tour 
 which, since her aunt's death, she had 
 been enjoying.
 
 THE SEYTONS OF ELDERTHWAITE. 75 
 
 ''Papa, papa!" cried a bright voice 
 behind him, " Good morning," then as he 
 tmmed round, the newly-arrived daughter 
 exclaimed, throwing her arms round his 
 neck, " Oh, how nice it is to say ' Grood 
 morning, papa ! ' " 
 
 She was a fair creature enough, a true 
 Seyton, with slender frame and pointed 
 chin, creamy complexion and rich brown 
 hair, but the large, round eyes, tender, 
 intense, and full of life, were her mother's, 
 though clear and untroubled as the mother's 
 had never been. 
 
 " So you are glad to come home, 
 Virginia ? " said her father, rather sadly. 
 
 " Yes, papa, 1 am just delighted. I 
 always made stories about home when I 
 was at Littleton. I was very happy, you 
 know, with dear Aunt Mary and all my 
 friends ; but it was so uninteresting not to 
 know more of my very nearest relations." 
 
 " You will find it very different, my 
 dear, from what you are accustomed to. 
 This is a dull place." 
 
 " Oh, papa, I think it is so silly to be
 
 7Q AN ENGLISH SQUIRE. 
 
 dull ! I sliall be quite ready to like any- 
 thing you wish," said Virginia warmly. 
 
 " My dear, you shall take your own way. 
 It would be hard at least if I could not 
 give you that," said Mr. Seyton, looking 
 at her as if he did not quite know what to 
 do with this gaily-dressed, frank-spoken 
 daughter. '' Now let us come to break- 
 fast." 
 
 "I am afraid I am late," said Virginia; 
 " but it is never easy to be in time after a 
 journey." 
 
 " You are punctual for this house, my 
 dear ; we take such things easy. But 
 your aunt is down, you see, in your 
 honour." As Mr. Seyton spoke they came 
 into the dining-room, a long, low room, 
 with treasures of curious carving round 
 its oak panels, hardly visible in its im- 
 perfect light. 
 
 A lady sat pouring out the tea. She 
 had the delicate features and peculiar com- 
 plexion of her family, but her eyes, instead 
 of being like Mr. Seyton's, vague and sad, 
 were sharp and sarcastic ; she had more
 
 THE SEYTONS OF ELDERTH WATTE. 11 
 
 play of feature, and, though she looked fully 
 her age, had the air of having been a beauty. 
 
 Miss Seyton had once been engaged to 
 be married, but her engagement had been 
 broken off in one of the storms of dis- 
 creditable trouble that had overwhelmed 
 her father and brothers, no one knew 
 exactly how or why. She had never 
 married, and had lived ever since Avith her 
 brother, not always without scandal and 
 remark. Still her presence had kept 
 Elderthwaite on the visiting-list of the 
 county, and made it possible for her niece 
 to live there. 
 
 In spite of her sharp, eager eyes, she 
 had an indescribable laziness and non- 
 chalance of manner, and poured out the 
 tea as if it was an effort beyond her. The 
 boys' places remained vacant. There was 
 a little talk at breakfast-time, but it did 
 not flow easily. Virginia would have had 
 plenty to say, but she had a sense that what 
 she did say caused her aunt inward surprise 
 or amusement, and she began to feel shy. 
 
 When the meal was over, Mr. Seyton
 
 78 AN ENGLISH SQUIEE. 
 
 sauntered awaj slowly, and Virginia said, 
 " Do we sit in the drawing-room in the 
 morning. Aunt Julia ? " 
 
 " Yes, as often as not," said Miss Sej- 
 ton. " You are welcome to arrange all 
 such matters for yourself. Girls have 
 ways of their own." 
 
 '' I don't want to have any strange or 
 uncomfortable ways, auntie," said Vir- 
 ginia ; " I want to feel quite at home, and 
 to be useful." 
 
 '' Useful ! " said Miss Seyton. " What's 
 your notion of being useful ? " 
 
 She did not speak unkindly, but with a 
 curious sort of inward amusement, as if 
 the notions of the bright -eyed girl were an 
 odd study to her. 
 
 " I'm afraid I haven't very clear notions. 
 I want to make it cheerful for papa — Aunt 
 Mary always said he wasn't strong or well; 
 and perhaps the boys want things done for 
 them ; my friends' brothers always did," 
 said Virginia a little pathetically. 
 
 " There's one thing, my dear, I wish you 
 to understand at once. I shall never in-
 
 THE SEYTONS OF ELDERTHWAITE. 79 
 
 terfere with you ; but I don't mean to 
 abdicate in your favour. I keep liouse — 
 whatever house is kept — and you'd better 
 shut your eyes and ears to it. It isn't 
 work for you." 
 
 " Oh, Aunt Julia ! " said Virginia dis- 
 tressed, *' I would not think of such a 
 thing. It is your place." 
 
 " No, my dear, it's not ; but I mean to 
 stick to it," interposed Miss Seyton. 
 
 "And I know nothing about house- 
 keeping, I'm afraid. I should be very 
 extravagant." 
 
 " Like a true Seyton. So much for 
 that, then. And now another thinsr. 
 Don't you ever give your brothers so much 
 as a half-sovereign secretly. You have 
 money, and they know it, and it's scarce 
 here. Mind what I say." 
 
 A kind of puzzled sense of something 
 that she did not understand crossed Vir- 
 ginia's face. 
 
 " I would rather give them thnigs than 
 money," she said. " Of course papa lets 
 them have what is right."
 
 so AN ENGLISH SQUIKE. 
 
 '' Of course," said Miss Seyton, with tlie 
 same perplexing expression of indescribable 
 amusement. 
 
 A good joke had for years been the 
 solace, a bitter sarcasm the natural outlet, 
 of a life which certainly had been neither 
 prosperous nor happy in itself, nor glorified 
 by any martyrdom of self-denial. 
 
 Miss Seyton was full ol malice, both in 
 the French and English acceptations of 
 the word. She loved fun, and she could 
 not see without bitterness the young, un- 
 worn creature beside her. To astonish 
 Virginia offered an almost irresistible 
 temptation to both these tendencies. Her 
 evident unconsciousness of the life that 
 lay before her, was at once so funny, and 
 such a cruel satire on them all. 
 
 "So you built castles in the air about 
 your relations ? " she said, with an odd 
 longing to knock some of these castles 
 down. 
 
 " Sometimes," said Virginia ; ''then Ruth 
 told mo about you ; and two years ago she 
 and I met Cberiton Lester and his cousin
 
 THE SEYTONS OF ELDERTHWAITE. 81 
 
 Rupert in London, and I used to talk to 
 them, Clieriton made me wish to come 
 home very much." 
 
 *' Why ? " said Miss Seyton shortly. 
 
 " He used to tell her about the place, 
 and he made me remember much better 
 what it was like." 
 
 " Gheriton will have to play second 
 fiddle. The eldest brother is coming back 
 from Spain." 
 
 " Ah, I remember, he told us how much 
 he wished it. Oh, and he told me Uncle 
 James ' wasn't half a bad fellow.' I sup- 
 pose that was a boy's way of saying he 
 was very nice indeed. Perhaps I can help 
 him, too, in the village. I like school- 
 teaching, and I suppose there aren't many 
 young ladies in Elderthwaite ? " 
 
 " You little innocent ! " exclaimed Miss 
 Seyton. Then, moving away, she said, in 
 the same wicked undertone, '* Well, you 
 had better ask him." 
 
 Virginia remained standing by the fire. 
 She felt ruflfled, for she knew herself to be 
 laughed at, and not having the clue to her 
 
 VOL. 1. (i
 
 82 AN ENGLISH SQUIRE. 
 
 aunt's meaning, she fancied that her free 
 and easy mention of Cheriton had ehcited 
 the remark ; and being a young lady of 
 decided opinions and somewhat warm 
 temper, made up her mind silently, but 
 with energy, that she would never like her 
 Aunt Julia, never ! She had been taken 
 away from home when only eleven years 
 old, and since then had only occasionally 
 seen her father and her brothers. Her 
 cousin Ruth, who had frequently stayed at 
 Elderthwaite, had never bestowed on her 
 much definite information; and perhaps 
 the season in London and the renewal of 
 her childish acquaintance with Cheriton 
 Lester had done more than anything else 
 to revive old impressions. 
 
 She had been most carefully brought 
 up by her aunt. Lady Hampton, with 
 every advantage of education and influence. 
 Companions and books were all carefully 
 chosen, and her aunt hoped to see her 
 married before there was any chance of 
 her returning to Elderthwaite. But such 
 was the dread of the reckless, defiant.
 
 THE SEYTONS OF ELDERTHWAITE. 88 
 
 Seyton nature, that her very precautions 
 defeated their wishes. 
 
 Virginia never was allowed to be in- 
 timate with any young man but Cheriton, 
 who at the time of their meeting was a 
 mere boy, and with thoughts turned in 
 another direction ; and though Virginia 
 was sufficiently susceptible, with a nature 
 at once impetuous and dependent, she 
 came home at one-and-twenty, never yet 
 having seen her ideal in flesh and blood. 
 
 "Duties enough, and little cares," had 
 filled her girlhood, and delightful girl 
 friendships and girl reverences had occu- 
 pied her heart ; while her time had 
 been filled by her studies, the cheerful 
 gaieties of a lively neighbourhood, and by 
 the innumerable claims of a church and 
 parish completely organized and vigorously 
 worked. 
 
 Lady Hampton was one of the Ladies 
 Bountiful of Littleton ; and Virginia had 
 tauofht in the schools, made tea at the 
 treats, worked at church decorations, and 
 made herself useful and important in all 
 G 2
 
 84 AN ENGLISH SQUIRE. 
 
 the ways usual to a clever, warm-liearted 
 girl under such influences. And with the 
 same passionate fervour of nature, and the 
 same necessity to her life of an approving 
 conscience, which had made her mother's 
 heart beat itself to death against the bars 
 of her unsatisfying home, Virginia's nature 
 had flowed on in perfect tune with her 
 surroundiDgs ; till, when she was nearly 
 twenty, came the great grief of her kind 
 aunt's death, leaving her heiress to a 
 moderate fortune. By the terms of the 
 will she was to travel under carefully 
 selected guardianship till she was of age, 
 and then to choose whether she would go 
 home to her father, or have a home made 
 for her at Littleton. 
 
 Virginia chose promptly, and then, in 
 the delicate, indefinite language of those 
 who fear to do harm by every word, was 
 warned of difficulties. Much would be 
 painful to her, much would be strange ; 
 her home was not like anything she had 
 been used to. She listened and looked 
 sad, and understood nothing of what they
 
 THE SEYTONS.OF ELDERTIIWAITE. 85 
 
 meant to imply ; and thus ready to admire, 
 but with only one type in her mind of 
 what was admirable ; full of love, but with 
 none of the blinding softening memories 
 that make love easy, she came to a home 
 where admiration was impossible, and love 
 would demand either ignorant indifference 
 to any high ideal, or a rare and perfect 
 charity, alike unknown to a high-minded 
 iD tolerant girl.
 
 86 AN ENC4L1SH SQUIEE. 
 
 CHAPTER A^. 
 
 VIRGINIA. 
 " A sense of mystery her spirit daunted." 
 
 The vicar of Eldertliwaite was Mr. Seyton's 
 youngest brother. There had been one 
 between them, the father of the Rnth 
 mentioned in the last chapter, but he had 
 married well, and died early, leaving this 
 one girl, who lived with her grandmother, 
 and paid occasional visits to Elderthwaite. 
 James Seyton had been the wildest of 
 the three, and had taken orders to pay his 
 debts by means of the family living, the 
 revenues of which he had never fully 
 enjoyed. He had never married, and his 
 life — though just kept in bounds by the 
 times in which he lived, so that he did not 
 get tipsy in the Seyton Arms, nor openly
 
 VIRGINIA. 87 
 
 scandalize a parisli with so low a standard 
 of right as Elderthwaite — was a thoroughly 
 self-indulgent one. He read the service 
 once on Sundays, and administered the 
 Commnnion three times a year, while the 
 delay and neglect of funerals, marriages, 
 and baptisms were the scandal of every 
 parish ronnd. He rarely visited his flock ; 
 and yet the vicar was not wholly an un- 
 popular man. He was good-natured, and 
 though he drank freely and sometimes 
 swore loudly, he had a certain amount of 
 secular intercourse with his parishioners 
 of a not unneighbourly kind. 
 
 The pressure of poverty made Mr. 
 Seyton a hard landlord, and between 
 oppression and neglect the inhabitants of 
 the picturesque tumbledown village were 
 a bad lot, and neither squire nor parson 
 did much to make them better. But their 
 vicar now and then did put before the 
 worst offenders the consequences of an 
 evil life in language plain enough to reach 
 their understanding ; and he had a word 
 and a laugh for most of them.
 
 88 AN ENGLISH SQUIEE. 
 
 Mr. Lester was frequently heard to 
 inyeigli against Parson Sejton's short- 
 comings, and seriously, as well he might, 
 regretted the state of Elderthwaite parish ; 
 but Mr. Seyton doctored all his horses and 
 dogs when they were ill, and was, " after 
 all, an old neighbour and a gentleman." 
 He taught Cherry to catch rats, and took 
 him out otter-hunting, and there was the 
 oddest friendship between them, which 
 Cherry, when a boy, had once exemplified 
 in the following manner : — 
 
 The Bishop had paid an unexpected visit 
 at Oakby, and Cheriton following in the 
 wake, while his father and Mr. Ellesmere 
 were showing off their new schools, heard 
 him express his intention of going on to 
 Elderthwaite ; upon which (Cherry ran full 
 speed across the fields, found Parson Seyton 
 shooting rabbits, decidedly in shooting 
 costume, gave him timely warning, and, 
 with his own hands so tidied, dusted, and 
 furbished up the wretched old church, that 
 its vicar, entering into the spirit of the 
 thing, fell to with a will, astonished the
 
 VIRGINIA. 89 
 
 lazy blind old sexton, and produced sucli a 
 result as might pass muster in a necessarily 
 lenient north country diocese. 
 
 Cherry then diffidently produced one of 
 his father's white ties which he had put in 
 his pocket, '' thinking you mightn't have 
 one clean," and as the old vicar, with a 
 shout of laughter, arrayed himself in it, he 
 said, — 
 
 "Ay, ay, my lad, between this and the 
 glass of port I'll give his lordship (he won't 
 better that in any parish), we'll push 
 through." 
 
 ^nd so they did. 
 
 Parson Seyton was a man, if an erring 
 one ; but the mischief with his young 
 nephews was that they seemed to have no 
 force or energy even for being naughty, 
 and as they grew up their scrapes were all 
 those of idle self-indulgence, save when the 
 hereditary pas-sion for gambling broke 
 out in Dick, the elder of the two, as had 
 been the case lately, causing his removal 
 from the tutor with whom he had been 
 placed. Like their father, they had not
 
 90 AN ENGLISH SQUIRE. 
 
 strong health, and thej had little taste for 
 field sports, and none for books ; they lay 
 in bed half the day, lounged about the 
 stables, and quarrelled with each other. 
 But then their father had nothing to do, 
 read little but the paper, and drank a 
 great deal more wine than was good for 
 him. 
 
 Their uncle had conferred on them in 
 his time the inestimable advantage of one 
 or two good thrashings, and had scant 
 patience with a kind of evil to which his 
 burly figure, jolly red face, and hearty 
 reckless temper had never been inclined. 
 
 Virginia had thought a good deal about 
 her uncle, and was not unprepared to find 
 him very far removed from the clerical 
 ideal to which she was accustomed. Per- 
 haps the notion of bringing a little en- 
 lightenment to so " old-fashioned '* a place 
 was neither absent nor unwelcome, as she 
 thought of offering to teach the choir, and 
 wondered who was feminine head of the 
 parish. 
 
 ** I daresay Uncle James has some nice
 
 VIRGINIA. 91 
 
 old housekeeper," slie tliought, " who trots 
 after the poor people, and takes them jelly, 
 and perhaps teaches the children sewing. 
 There must be a great many people here 
 who remember mamma. I hope they will 
 like me. It will be a much more real 
 thing trying to be helpful here than at 
 Littleton, where there were six people for 
 each bit of work." 
 
 Virginia, finding that her brothers did 
 not appear, began to revive her childish 
 recollections by going over the house. It 
 was very large and rambling, with long 
 unused passages, with all the rooms shut 
 up. Windows overgrown with interlacing 
 ivy, panels from which the paint dropped 
 at a touch, queer little turret chambers, 
 with rickety staircases leading up to them, 
 seemed hardly objectionable to Virginia, 
 who liked the romance of the old forlorn 
 house, and had not yet tried living in it. 
 Yet it was not romantic, for Elderthwaite 
 was not ruinous, only very dirty and out of 
 repair ; and perhaps the untidy housemaid, 
 whom Virginia had encountered, was really
 
 92 AN ENGLISH SQUIRE. 
 
 more in accordance with its condition than 
 the white lady or armed spectre that she 
 gaily thought ought to walk those lonely 
 passages. Her own young smiling face, 
 and warm ruby-coloured dress, was in 
 more startling contrast than either. 80 
 apparently thought her brother Dick as he 
 ran up against her on the stairs. 
 
 " Hallo, Virginia ! " he exclaimed in 
 astonished accents. "What are you 
 doing up here P " 
 
 " Trying to remember my way about. 
 Don't we keep any ghosts, Dick ? I'm sure 
 they would find these dark corners exactly 
 suited to them." 
 
 " Better ask old Kitty ; she'll tell you all 
 about them. Good-bye, I'm off," and Dick 
 clattered downstairs, rather to Virginia's 
 disappointment, for she had thouglit the 
 night before that his delicate, handsome 
 face was more prepossessing than the 
 pale stout one of Harry who now joined 
 her. 
 
 *' Where is Dick going ? " she asked. 
 
 '' Don't know, I'm sure," said Harry.
 
 VIRGINIA. 93 
 
 *' Do you want to know all the old 
 stories P " 
 
 " Yes ! can you tell me ? " 
 
 ''Do you see that room tliere?" said 
 Harry, with eyes that twinkled like his 
 aunt's; "old grandfather Seyton was an 
 old rip, you know, if ever there was one, 
 and he and his friends used to make such a 
 row you heard them over at Oakby. His 
 brother was parson then, and bless you ! 
 Uncle Jem's a bishop to him. Well, he'd 
 got a dozen men dining here, and they all 
 got as drunk as owls, dead drunk every 
 one of them, and the servants put them to 
 bed up in this gallery. One of them was 
 in the room next grandfather's, that room 
 there, and he was found dead the next 
 morning. Fact, I assure you." 
 
 " What a horrid story ! " said Virginia, 
 looking shocked. 
 
 "I'll tell you another. Grandfather and 
 his brother played awfully high, that's how 
 the avenue was cut down ; and when they 
 could get no one else they played with each 
 other, and one night they quarrelled and
 
 94 AN ENGLISH SQUIRK. 
 
 seized each other by the throats, and they 
 both would have been strangled, only grand- 
 mamma rushed in in her nightgown scream- 
 ing, and parted them ; but the parson had 
 the marks on his throat for ever." 
 
 " Harry ! you naughty boy ! " exclaimed 
 Virginia, laughing. " You are inventing 
 all these frightful stories. I don't believe 
 them." 
 
 " They're as true as gospel," said Harry, 
 looking at her bright, incredulous eyes. 
 *' There's another about the parson — how 
 he came through the park at sunrise. 
 That's not a pretty story to tell you, 
 though." 
 
 " I had much rather hear something 
 about the parson, as you call him, nowa- 
 days. Come downstairs, it's so cold here, 
 and answer all my questions." 
 
 " Oh, the parson's a jolly old card," said 
 Harry, following her. " He's just mad 
 with Dick because he won't hunt. He's 
 been in at the death at every meet round, 
 and don't he swear when any one rides 
 over the dogs, that's all ! "
 
 VIRGINIA. 95 
 
 Virginia began to think Elderthwaite 
 must be very old-fashioned indeed. 
 
 " Doesn't Dick like hunting ? " she said. 
 
 " No, Dick takes after the governor. 
 It's cards that'll send him to the devil, and 
 the first Seyton he'll be that's not worth 
 having, says Uncle James." 
 
 Harry talked in a low, solemn voice, with 
 the same odd twinkle in his eyes, and it 
 was very difficult to say whether it was 
 wicked mischief, or a sort of shameless 
 naivete, that made him so communicative. 
 
 Virginia still strongly suspected him of 
 a desire to astonish her ; but his last speech 
 gave her a strange new pang, and she 
 turned away to safer subjects. 
 
 " 1 suppose the Lester boys are friends 
 of yours ? " 
 
 " Well, that's as may be. We're such a 
 bad lot, you see, that Bob's never allowed 
 to come here. There was a row once, and 
 old Lester, a humbugging chap, just 
 interfered. Jack's such a confounded prig 
 he wouldn't touch us with a pair of 
 tongs."
 
 96 AN ENGLISH SQUIRE. 
 
 " And Cberiton, of course, is too old for 
 
 yon." 
 
 " Clierry ! oli, he isn't a bad fellow. I 
 go over to Oakby sometimes wlien he's 
 there. But it's a slow place, and old 
 Lester keeps them very tight. And then 
 he's always humbugging after his schools 
 and things. Writing to my father about 
 the state of the village. As if it was his 
 affair ! " said Harry, in a tone of virtuous 
 indignation. 
 
 " Doesn't papa approve of education ? " 
 said Virginia. 
 
 "Bless you, he don't trouble his head 
 about it. Why should he ? Teach a lot 
 of poaching vagabonds to read and 
 write!" 
 
 " But Uncle James—" 
 
 " Oh, Uncle James," said Harry, with a 
 spice of mimicry, " he likes his glass of 
 grog and his ferrets too well to put him- 
 self out of the way. By Jove, here's Aunt 
 Julia ! I shall be off before I'm asked what 
 has become of Dick." 
 
 Virginia sat still where he had left her.
 
 VIRGINIA. 97 
 
 She oiil}^ half believed him, and strange to 
 say there was something so comical in his 
 manner that she was rather attracted by 
 its cool sauciness. But she was frightened 
 and perplexed. What sort of a world was 
 this into which she had come ? Those 
 stories, even if true, happened a long 
 time ago ; Harry must be in joke about 
 Dick, and evervthinsf was different nowa- 
 days. 
 
 It was true. The golden age, if such 
 an expression can be permitted, of Seyton 
 wickedness had passed away ; and these 
 were smaller times, times of neglect, mis- 
 management, and low poor living, the 
 dreary dregs of a cup long since drained. 
 Nobody could quote Mr. Seyton as a 
 monster of wickedness, because he daw- 
 dled away his time over his sherry, 
 and knew no excitement but an occasional 
 game of cards at not very high stakes. 
 There was many another youth in West- 
 moreland who gambled and played billiards 
 in low company like Dick, and some ladies 
 perhaps who found all their excitement in 
 
 VOL. I. H
 
 98 AX ENGLISH SQUIRE. 
 
 the memory of otlier times, and troubled 
 themselves as little over any question of 
 conscience as Miss Seyton. 
 
 But it was not all at once that this ab- 
 sence of all that makes life worth living 
 could be apparent, and Virginia found her 
 first confirmation of Harry's words as she 
 walked through the village on Christmas 
 morning, and noted the wild, untidy look 
 of the people, and the wretched state of 
 their houses, and observed the sullen look 
 of their faces as her father passed. Dick 
 did not appear at all ; Harry audibly 
 " supposed the governor was going to 
 church because Virginia was there," and 
 certainly church-going did not appear to 
 be a fashion of the village. 
 
 Neither her childish recollections, nor 
 Harry's remarks, had prepared her, as they 
 came into the small, ivy-grown church, for 
 broken floors, cracked windows, and damp 
 fustiness ; still less for the ver}^ scantiest 
 of coDgregations, and a rustling silence 
 where responses should have been. Her 
 uncle read the service rapidly, with the
 
 VIRGINIA. 99 
 
 broad northern accent now strange to 
 Iter ears. Tlie old clerk trotted about 
 wlienever Lis services were not required, 
 and did a little sweeping. Her uncle 
 paused as lie began tlie Litany, and called 
 to liim in a loud and cheerful voice to sliut 
 the door. 
 
 Virginia peeped out between the faded 
 green-baize curtains that, hanging round 
 the great square pew, represented to her 
 every Church principle she had been taught 
 to coudemn; and found her view ob- 
 structed by a large cobweb. Harry poked at 
 the spider, and Virginia recalling her own 
 attention from her despairing visions of 
 haviug no better church than this, perceived 
 that her father was leaning idly back in 
 his corner. All her standards of right 
 and wrong seemed confused and shocked ; 
 so much so that, at the moment, she 
 hardly distinguished the pain of finding 
 herself left alone after the sermon, and 
 seeing her father turn away, from her 
 horror at her uncle's dirty surplice, and 
 the dreary degradation of the whole
 
 100 [ AN ENGLISH SQUIRE. 
 
 place. When the parson came after her 
 after service, and loudly told lier she was 
 the prettiest lass he'd seen for long 
 enough, kissing her under the church 
 porch, she still felt as if the typical bad 
 parish priest of her imagination had 
 come to life, and behold he was her own 
 uncle ! 
 
 Since this comprehensible form of evil 
 was so plain to her eyes, what terrible 
 secrets might not lurk behind it ! Virginia 
 felt as if she would never be light-hearted 
 again.
 
 101 
 
 CHAPTER YII. 
 
 riRE AND SNOW. 
 
 " A northern Christmas, such as painters love. 
 * * # # * 
 
 Red sun, blue sky, white snow, and pearled ice, 
 Keen ringing air which sets the blood on fire." 
 
 Christmas is no doubt, theoretically, the 
 right season for relations who have been 
 long parted to meet, and there was an 
 ideal appropriateness in the long absent 
 heir appearing at Oakby for the first time 
 on Christmas Day. But practically it 
 would have been better for Alvar if he 
 had come home at any other time of the 
 year. In the first place the frost con- 
 tinued with unabated severity, and pre- 
 cluded every out-door amusement but 
 skating, in which Alvar of course had no
 
 102 AN ENGLISH SQUIRE. 
 
 skill, and wliicli lie did not seem at all 
 willing to learn. Besides, the season 
 brought an amount of local and parish 
 business which Mr. Lester attended to 
 vigorously in person, but the existence of 
 which Alvar never seemed to realize. His 
 grandmother's charities he understood, and 
 was rather amused at seeing the old 
 women come to fetch their blankets and 
 cloaks ; but what could he have to do 
 with any of these people ? 
 
 Tenants' dinners and choir-suppers 
 might form a good opportunity for intro- 
 ducing him to his neighbours ; and Cheri- 
 ton, who was the life and soul of such 
 festivities, tried to put him forward ; but 
 he only made magnificent silent bows, and 
 comported himself much as his brother 
 Jack had done, when in an access of gruff 
 shyness and democratic ardour he had 
 called the Christmas feasts ''relics of 
 feudalism," and had shown his advanced 
 notions of the union of classes by never 
 speaking a word to any one. 
 
 Between the new comer and his father
 
 FIRE AND SNOW. 103 
 
 there was an impassable distance. Alvar 
 never failed in courtesy ; but Clieriton's 
 quick eyes soon perceived that he resented 
 deeply the long neglect ; saw too that the 
 sight of him was a pain and distress to 
 his father, sharpened his temper, and pro- 
 duced constant rubs ; though he was care- 
 ful to do everything that the proper intro- 
 duction of his son demanded of him. A 
 grand ball was organized in his honour, 
 and also a stiff and ponderous dinner- 
 party at which Alvar was to be introduced 
 to the county magnates. 
 
 Special invitations were also sent to 
 him by their various neighbours, and he 
 created quite an excitement in the dull 
 country neighbourhood. Mr. Lester only 
 half liked being congratulated on his son's 
 charming foreign manners ; but still, as a 
 novelty, Alvar had great attractions, and 
 in society never seemed shy or at a loss. 
 Mr. Lester's brother-in-law. Judge Cheri- 
 ton, invited the stranger to pay him a 
 visit when the season had a little advanced, 
 and to let him see a little London society;
 
 104 AN ENGLISH SQUIHE. 
 
 for wliicli attention Mr. Lester, who hated 
 London, was very grateful, as Alvar's 
 grandfather had Spanish friends there, 
 and it would have been too intolerable for 
 the heir of Oakby to have appeared there 
 under auspices which, however distin« 
 guished, Mr. Lester thought suitable only 
 to a political refugee or a music master. 
 
 He had, when he had ceased to pay for 
 Alvar's English tutor, made him an allow- 
 ance which had been magnificent in Spam, 
 and greatly added to Alvar's consideration 
 there, and he now increased this to what 
 he considered a sufficient sum for his 
 eldest son's dignity. Li short he did 
 everything but ovei^come his personal dis- 
 taste to him ; he never willingly spoke to 
 him, and the very sight of him was an 
 irritation to him. He got less too than 
 usual of Cheriton's company ; their walks, 
 and talks, and consultations were curtailed 
 by Alvar's requirements. Indeed Cherry 
 was pulled in many different directions, 
 and he ended by sacrificing all the reading 
 that was to have been got through during
 
 riEE AND SNOW. 105 
 
 the vacation. For the home life was very 
 difficult, and the more they saw of the 
 stranger the less they liked him. 
 
 " He's not of our sort," said Bob, as if 
 that settled the matter, not perceiving 
 that his slowness to receive impressions, 
 and difficulty in accommodating himself to 
 a new^ life, might spring as much from his 
 Lester blood as from his Spanish breeding. 
 
 '' He might try and looh like an English- 
 man," growled Jack. 
 
 " When you go to Spain, we shall see 
 you in a sofnhrero dancing under the 
 orange-trees to a pair of castanets," re- 
 torted Cheriton. " We should all be so 
 ready at foreign languages and so accom- 
 modating, shouldn't we ?" 
 
 Alvar's individuality was not to be 
 ignored, though unfortunately it was very 
 distasteful to his kindred. He was so 
 dignified, so terribly polite they were half 
 afraid of him, and as the awe wore off, 
 they wanted to quarrel with him. He 
 announced that he loved riding, and 
 seemed to know something of horses ; he
 
 106 AN- ENGLISH SQCTRE. 
 
 played billiards much too well to be a 
 pleasant opponent to liis father, he sang 
 much too quaintly and prettily for his 
 family to appreciate, and he played the 
 guitar ! Even Cheriton wished it had 
 been a fiddle. He hated going to walk, 
 smoked incessantly, and was indifferent 
 to every one except Cheriton, to whom he 
 deferred in everything. 
 
 Poor Cheriton ! " Among the blind, the 
 one-eyed is king," and his sentiments were 
 amazingly liberal for Oakby ; but he was 
 very youug and deeply attached to his 
 home and his surroundings, too tender- 
 hearted not to be touched at Alvar's pre- 
 ference, imao'inative enouo-h to realize his 
 position, and yet repelled and put out of 
 countenance by his peculiarities. To be 
 tenderly addressed as " my brother," '' mi 
 Caro," '^ mi Clierifo?^," '' Cherito mio," to 
 be deferred to on all occasions, and even 
 told in the hearing of Jack and Bob " that 
 his eyes w^ien he laughed were the colour 
 of the ]\Iediterranean on a sunny day," 
 was, as he said, ''so out-facing, that it
 
 FIRE AND SNOW. 107 
 
 made liim feel a perfect fool," especially 
 when his brothers echoed it at every turn. 
 
 Yet he put up with it. It was so hard 
 on the poor fellow if no one was kind to 
 him ! So hard, he added to himself, to be 
 an unloved and unloving son. 
 
 Perhaps, after all, Alvar's essential 
 strangeness prevented Cheriton from feel- 
 ing himself put aside. 
 
 Cheriton was very popular at school and 
 at college. He had strong intellectual 
 ambitions, and though of less powerful 
 mind than Jack, had attained to much 
 graceful scholarship and possessed much 
 command of language. He hoped to take 
 honours, to go to the bar, and distinguish 
 himself there under his uncle. Judge 
 Cheriton's, auspices. He had too a further 
 and a sweeter hope, hitherto confided to 
 no one. 
 
 But it was a certain "genius for loving" 
 that really distinguished him from his 
 fellows — really made him every one's 
 friend. He did not seek out his poorer 
 neighbours so much from a sense of duty,
 
 108 AN ENGLISH SQUIRE. 
 
 as because liis heart went out to every one 
 belonging to Oakby, nay, every animal, 
 every bit of ground — nothing was a trouble 
 that conduced to the welfare of the place. 
 This loving-kindness was a natural gift; 
 but Cheriton made good use of it. He 
 had high principles, and deep within his 
 soul, struggling with the temptations of 
 this ardent nature, were the pure aspira- 
 tions and the capability of fervent piety 
 which have made saints — responsibilities 
 with which he was born. 
 
 But all this fire and force did not make 
 tolerance easy ; he was full of instinctive 
 prejudices, and perhaps his greatest aids 
 in his dealings with his new brother were 
 his joyous unchecked spirits and the keen 
 sense of the ludicrous that enabled him to 
 laugh at himself as well as at other people. 
 
 Some little time after Alvar's arrival 
 there was a deep fall of snow, and while 
 the pond was being swept for skating, the 
 yoimg Lesters, with Harry Seyton and the 
 children from the rectory, wlio had come 
 up for the purpose, proceeded to erect a
 
 FIRE AND SNOW. 109 
 
 snow man of gigantic proportions in front 
 of the house. 
 
 " What a fright you have made of him ! " 
 said Cheriton, coming up with Alvar as 
 they finished; ''he has no nose and no 
 expression." 
 
 " Well, come and do his nose, then ; 
 it keeps on coming off," said Nettie, who 
 was standing on a bench to put the finish- 
 ing touches. 
 
 Cherry was nothing loath, and was soon 
 engaged in moulding the snowy counte- 
 nance with the skill of long practice, while 
 Alvar, with his great crimson-lined cloak 
 wrapped about him, stood looking on. 
 
 " Give him a good ktmjpy nose, that 
 won't melt," said Cherry. " There, he's 
 lovely ! got an old pipe for him ? " 
 
 As he spoke a great snow-ball came 
 stinging against his face, and in a moment, 
 to the astonishment of Alvar, the whole 
 party set on Cherry, and a wild bout of 
 snow-balling ensued. 
 
 "No, no, that's not fair ! I can't fight 
 you all," shouted Cherry ; " and you've
 
 110 AN ENGLISH SQUIRE. 
 
 got all your snow-balls ready made. Give 
 me the girls, and tlien — Come on." 
 
 '' Oil, yes, yes ; we'll be on Cherry's 
 side," cried Nettie. 
 
 It was a picturesque scene enough — the 
 pale blue sky overhead, the dazzling snow 
 under foot, the little girls in their scarlet 
 cloaks or petticoats, their long hair flying 
 as they darted in and out, the great boys 
 struggling, wrestling, knocking each 
 other about with small merc}^ No one 
 threw a snowball at Alvar ; perhaps they 
 had forgotten him, as he stood silently 
 watching them as if they were a troop of 
 Berserkers, till the contest terminated in a 
 tremendous struggle between Cheriton and 
 Jack, who were, of course, much the 
 biggest of the party. Cherry was getting 
 decidedly the worst of it, and either 
 tripped in the rough snow or was thrown 
 down into it by Jack, when suddenly 
 Alvar threw off his cloak, stepped forward, 
 and seizing Jack by the shoulders, pulled 
 him back with sudden irresistible force. 
 
 "By Jove ! " was all that Jack could utter.
 
 FIKE AxVD SNOW. Ill 
 
 '* What on eartli did you do that for ? " 
 ejaculated Cherry as soon as he gained his 
 breath and his feet. 
 
 " He might have hurt you, my brother," 
 said Alvar, who looked flushed, and for 
 once excited. " And besides, I am stronger 
 than either of you. I could struggle with 
 you both." 
 
 '' Hurt me ? Suppose he had ? " said 
 Cherry disdainfully. " But, Jack — Jack, 
 I do believe you're getting too many for 
 me at last." 
 
 '' That is what you call athletics," said 
 Alvar, who looked unusually bright. 
 
 " Yes ; wrestling is a regular north 
 country game, and the fellows about here 
 have taught us all the tricks of it. Come, 
 Jack, let us show him a bout."' 
 
 The two brothers pulled ofl" their coats, 
 and set to with a will; and after a long 
 struggle, and with considerable difficulty, 
 Cheriton succeeded in throwing Jack. 
 
 *' There, I've done it once more ! " he 
 said breathlessly, "and I don't suppose I 
 shall ever do it again. You're getting
 
 112 AX ENGLISH SQUIRE. 
 
 mucli stronger tlian I am, and of course 
 you're heavier." 
 
 '' Let me try to throw you clown," said 
 Alvar eagerly. 
 
 " Nay, Jack may have first turn ; but 
 it's fair to tell you there's a great deal of 
 knack in it." 
 
 Alvar, however, was man instead of boy; 
 he was quite as tall as Jack, and however 
 he might have learnt to exercise his 
 muscles, his grasp was like steel ; and 
 though Jack's superior skill triumphed in 
 the end, Alvar rose up cool and smiling, 
 and Jack panted out, in half-unwilling 
 admiration, — 
 
 " You'd beat us all with a little 
 training." 
 
 " Ah yes ; that is because I am an 
 Englishman," said Alvar complacently. 
 " But I bear no mahce, Jack. It is in 
 sport." 
 
 *' Of course," said Jack. "Now, Cherry, 
 you try." 
 
 *' It's hardly fair in a biting frost," said 
 Cherry ; " nobody can have any wind.
 
 riRE AND SNOW. 113 
 
 However, here's for the honour of West- 
 moreland." 
 
 The younger ones gathered round in an 
 admunng circle, and Cheriton, who did not 
 like to be beaten, put forth all the strength 
 and skill of which he was master. But he 
 was the more slightly made, and had met 
 his match, and to the extreme chagrin of 
 his brothers and Nettie, sustained an entire 
 defeat. 
 
 " Well, I never thought you would throw 
 him,'' said Jack, in a tone of deep disap- 
 pointment. 
 
 " Ah," said Alvar, " they always called 
 me the strong Englishman." 
 
 '' Papa was the strongest man in West- 
 moreland," said Nettie. 
 
 " Then," said Alvar, '' so far I have 
 proved myself his son, and your brother. 
 I would not skate with you, for I should 
 look like a fool ; but I knew you could not 
 easily throw me down, since that is your 
 sport. But, my brother, I have hurt 
 you." 
 
 " No," said Cheriton getting up, " only 
 
 VOL. I. I
 
 114, AN ENGLISH SQUIRE. 
 
 knocked all the wind out of me, and made 
 me look like a fool ! Never mind, we shall 
 understand each other all the better. 
 Come upstairs, and we will show you some 
 of the cups and things we have won in 
 boat-races and athletics." 
 
 This was a clever stroke of Cheriton's ; 
 he wanted to make Alvar free of the pre- 
 mises, and had not yet found a good 
 excuse. So, leaving the younger one s 
 to finish their snow-balling, he and Jack 
 conducted Alvar up to the top of the 
 house, where, at the end of the passage 
 where they slept, was a curious low room, 
 with a long, low Avindow, looking west, 
 above the west window of the drawing- 
 room, and occupying nearly one side of 
 the room, almost like the windows of the 
 hand-loom weavers in the West Riding. 
 
 There was a low seat underneath, broad 
 enough to lie on, but furnished with very 
 dilapidated cushions. There was a turn- 
 ing-lathe in the room, and a cupboard for 
 guns, and sundry cases of stuffed birds, 
 one table covered with tools, glue-pots,
 
 riRE AND SNOW. 115 
 
 and messes of all djescriptions ; and 
 another, it is but justice to add, supplied 
 with ink, pens, and paper, and various 
 formidable-looking books, for here the boys 
 did their reading. There was a great, old- 
 fashioned grate with a blazing fire in it, 
 and very incongruous ornaments above it 
 — a stuffed dormouse, ISTettie's property — 
 she maintained a footing in the room by 
 favour — various pipes, two china dogs, 
 white, with brown spots on them, pre- 
 sented to Cherry in infancy by his nurse, 
 and a wooden owl carved by their cousin 
 Eupert — a cousin in the second degree, 
 who had been much with them owing 
 to his father's early death. On one 
 side of the room were arranged on a 
 sort of sideboard the cups and tankards 
 which were the trophies of the bro- 
 thers' prowess, and these were now each 
 pointed out to Alvar, and the cir- 
 cumstances of their acquisition described. 
 Cheriton's were fewer in proportion, and 
 chiefly for leaping and hurdle-racing; and 
 Jack explained that Cherry's forte was 
 I 2
 
 116 AN ENGLISH SQUIRK. 
 
 cricket, and that, since he liad once 
 knocked himself up at school by a tremen- 
 dous flat-race, their father had greatly 
 objected to his going into training. 
 
 *'0h, it's not that," said Cherry; ''he 
 would not care now ; but I reallj^ haven't 
 time. I must grind pretty hard from now 
 to midsummer." 
 
 '' There is one thing I have read of," 
 said Alvar, ''in English newspapers. It 
 is a race of boats on the Thames between 
 Oxford and Cambridge." 
 
 " Oh, yes, you must go and see it. 
 That's Jack's ambition — to be one of the 
 crew." 
 
 "Ah, but vou see there's no river at 
 
 E. , and that's so unlucky," said Jack 
 
 seriously. 
 
 And so what with explanations and 
 questions the ice melted a little. Alvar 
 looked smiling and beneficent ; he did not 
 seem at all ashamed of his own ignorance ; 
 and Jack evidently regarded him with a 
 new respect. 
 
 Cheriton also contrived that the Seytons,
 
 riEE AND SNOW. 1 1 7 
 
 witli the vicar of Oakby, Mr. Ellesmere and 
 his wife, should be asked to dinner ; and 
 as the vicar had some general conversation, 
 some information about Spain was elicited 
 from Alvar, who, moreover, was pleased 
 to find himself in ladies' society, and was 
 evidently at ease in it ; while Virginia, in 
 exchange for the pleasant talk that seemed 
 to come out of her old life, could tell 
 Cheriton that her cousin Euth was coming 
 to stay with her, and could confide in him 
 that home was still a little strange. 
 
 '' Well, strangers are strange," said 
 Cherry. '* We are shaking down, but the 
 number of tempers lost in the process 
 might be advertised for * as of no value 
 except to the owners,' if to them. Only 
 the home-made article, you understand — " 
 
 '' Dear me," said Virginia, '' I should as 
 soon think of losing my temper with the 
 Cid. Aren't you afraid of him ? " 
 
 Cheriton made an irresistibly ludicrous 
 face. 
 
 "Don't tell," he said, ''but I think we 
 are ; and yet, you know, we think ' yon
 
 118 AX ENGLISH SQUIRE. 
 
 sootliern chap,' as old Bates called him, 
 must be ' a bit of a softy ' after all." 
 
 " Oil, Cherry, that is how you talked 
 yourself when we were children," ex- 
 claimed Yirginia impulsively. " Do you 
 know I feel I was born here, when I 
 hear the broad Westmoreland. I never 
 forgot it." 
 
 " Nay, I'm glad you don't say I talk so 
 now," said Cherry. '' They tell me at Ox- 
 ford that my tongue always betrays me 
 when I am excited. But here comes 
 Alvar ; now make him fall in love with 
 Westmoreland. Alvar, Miss Seyton has 
 been abroad, so67/eis not quite a benighted 
 savage." 
 
 " My brother Cheriton is not a savage," 
 said Alvar, smiling, as Cherry moved 
 away. " He is the kindest and most beau- 
 tiful person I have ever seen." 
 
 *' Yes, he is very kind. But I hope, Mr. 
 Lester, that you do not think us all 
 savages, with that one exception." 
 
 '' In future I can never think so," said 
 Alvar, with a bow. " These boys are
 
 FIRE AND SNOW. 119 
 
 savage certainly — very savage, but I do 
 not care." 
 
 '' It is strange, is it not," said Virginia, 
 rather timidly, " to have to make acquaint- 
 ance with one's own* father?" 
 
 " Of my father I say nothing," said 
 Alvar, with a sudden air of hauteur, that 
 made the impulsive Virginia blush, and 
 feel as if she had taken a liberty wath him, 
 till he added, with a smile, " Miss Seyton, 
 too, I hear, is a stranger." 
 
 " Yes, I have been away ever since I 
 was a httle girl, and — and I had forgotten 
 my relations." 
 
 '' I have not kuown mine," said Alvar ; 
 " Cheriton wrote to me once a little letter. 
 I have it now, and since then I have loved 
 him. I do not know the rest, and they 
 wish I w^as not here." 
 
 '' But don't you think," said Virginia 
 earnestly, " that we — that you wall soon 
 feel more at home with them ?" 
 
 " Oh, I do not know," said Alvar, with 
 a shrug. " It is cold, and I am so dull 
 that I could die. They understand no-
 
 120 AN ENGLISH SQUIRE. 
 
 tiling. And in Spain I was the cliief ; I 
 could do what I wished. Here I must 
 follow and obey. My name even is dif- 
 ferent. 1 do not know '' Mr. Lester." I am 
 '* Don Alvar." Will you not call me so ?" 
 
 " But that would be so very strange to 
 me," said Virginia, parrying this request. 
 " Every one will call you Mr. Lester. How 
 tall Nettie is grown. Do you not think 
 her very pretty ? " 
 
 '' Oh, she is pink, and white, and blue, 
 and yellow ; but she is like a little boy. 
 There is not in her eyes the attraction, 
 the coquetry, which I admire," said Alvar, 
 pointing his remark with a glance at his 
 companion's lucid, beaming, interested 
 eyes, in which however there was little 
 conscious coquetry. 
 
 " I am sorry to hear you admire co- 
 quettes," was too obvious an answer to be 
 resisted. 
 
 " Nay, it is the privilege of beauty," 
 said Alvar. 
 
 Virginia, like many impulsive people, 
 was apt to recollect with a cold chill con-
 
 riEE AND SNOW. 121 
 
 versations by wMcli at the time she had 
 been entirely carried away. But on look- 
 ing back at this one she liked it. Alvar's 
 dignity and grace of manner made his 
 trifling compliments both flattering and 
 respectful. His feelings, too, she thought, 
 were evidently deep and tender ; and how 
 she pitied him for his solitary condi- 
 tion !
 
 122 AN ENGLISH SQUIRE. 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 A DAT OF EEST. 
 
 "Gaily the troubadour touched his guitar." 
 
 On the third Sunday morning after Alvar's 
 arrival, Mr. Lester came down as usual at 
 the sound of the gong, and as he glanced 
 round the dining-room missed his two 
 elder sons. 
 
 Prayers were over and breakfast had 
 begun before Alvar entered. 
 
 " Ah pardon," he said, bowing to his 
 grandmother; " I did not know it was late.'* 
 
 " I make a point of being punctual on 
 Sunday," said Mr. Lester, in a tone of 
 incipient displeasure. 
 
 *' Cheriton is late too," said Alvar. 
 
 " No," said Jack, '' he's gone to 
 Church."
 
 A DAY OF BEST. 123 
 
 '' Ah, then lue clo not go to-day," said 
 Alvar, with an air of rehef so comical 
 that even the solemn Jack could hardly 
 stand it. 
 
 '' Oh, yes, we do," he said, ''this is 
 extra." 
 
 " Cheriton," said Mr. Lester, " is very 
 attentive to his religious duties." 
 
 "I suppose he'll have breakfast at the 
 Vicarage," said Nettie, as Alvar raised his 
 eyebrows and gave a little shrug. 
 
 It was a gesture habitual to him, and 
 was not intended to express contempt 
 either for religion or for Cheriton,' but 
 only a want of comprehension of the affair ; 
 but it annoyed Mr. Lester and called his 
 attention to the fact that Alvar had 
 appeared in a black velvet coat of a pecu- 
 liar foreign cut, the sight of which he 
 disliked on a week-day, and considered in- 
 tolerable when it was contrasted with the 
 spruce neatness of the rest of the party. 
 He could not very well attack Alvar on 
 the subject, but he sharply reproved Bob 
 for cutting hunches of bread when no one
 
 124 AN ENGLISH SQQIRE. 
 
 wanted tliem, and found fault with the 
 coffee. And then, apparently a ijrojjos of 
 nothing, he began to make a little speech 
 about the importance of example in a 
 country place, and the influence of trifles. 
 
 " And I can assure every one present," 
 he concluded emphatically, " that there is 
 no need to look far for an example of the 
 evil effects of neglect in these particulars." 
 
 "Elderthwaite ?" whispered Nettie to 
 Jack. 
 
 *' Ay," said Mrs. Lester, '' young people 
 should show respect to Sunday morning. 
 It is what in my father's house was always 
 insisted on. Your grandfather, too, used 
 to say that he liked his dogs even to know 
 Sunday." 
 
 " It is strange to me," said Alvar coolly. 
 
 " It will be well that you should give 
 yourself the pains to become accustomed 
 to it," said his father curtly. 
 
 It was the first time that the stately 
 stranger had been addressed in such a 
 tone, and he looked up with a flash of the 
 eye that startled the younger ones.
 
 A DAY OF REST. 125 
 
 " Sir, it is by your will I am a stranger 
 here," he said, with evident displeasure. 
 
 " Stranger or no, my regulations must 
 be respected," said Mr. Lester, his colour 
 rising. 
 
 Alvar rose from his seat and proved his 
 claim at any rate to the family temper by 
 bowing to his grandmother and marching 
 out of the room. 
 
 ''Highty tighty ! " said the grandmother. 
 '^ Here's a spirt of temper for you ! " 
 
 '' Intolerable insolence ! " exclaimed Mr. 
 Lester. " Under my roof he must submit 
 to what I please to say to him." 
 
 "It's just what I told ye, Gerald; a 
 foreigner's ways are what we cannot do 
 with," said Mrs. Lester. 
 
 " Of course," blurted out Jack, with the 
 laudable desire of mending matters ; '' of 
 course he is a foreigner. How can you 
 expect him to be anything else ? And 
 father never said it was his coat." 
 
 '' His coat?" said Mr. Lester. " It is 
 his temper to which I object. When 
 he came I told him that I expected
 
 126 AN ENGLISH SQUIRE. 
 
 Sunday to be observed in mj liouse, and 
 lie agreed." 
 
 " But lie did not understand that you 
 thought that coat improper on Sunday," 
 said Jack witli persevering justice. 
 
 " I am not in the habit of being ob- 
 scure," said Mr. Lester, as he rose from 
 the table, while Jack thought he would 
 give Alvar a little good advice. 
 
 Clierry was too soft ; he was equall}^ 
 impartial, and would be more plain 
 spoken. But as he approached the library 
 he heard an ominous tinkling, and enter- 
 ing, beheld Alvar, still in tlie objection 
 able coat, beginning to play on the still 
 more objectionable guitar, an air which 
 Jack did not think sounded like a hvmn 
 tune. 
 
 Jack really intended to mend matters, 
 but his manner was unfortunate, and in 
 the tone he would have used to a dis- 
 obedient fag he remarked, as he stood bolt 
 upright beside his brother, — 
 
 '' I say, Alvar, 1 think you'd better not 
 play on that thing this morning."
 
 A DAY OF EEST. 127 
 
 " There is no reason for you to tell me 
 what to do," said Alvar quietly. 
 
 " It's not, you know," said Jack, " that 
 I think there's any harm in it. My views 
 are very liberal. I only think it's a frivo- 
 lous and unmanly sort of instrument ; but 
 the governor won't like it, and there'll be 
 no end of a row." 
 
 "You have not a musical soul," said 
 Alvar loftily, for he had had time to cool 
 down somewhat. 
 
 " Certainly not," said the liberal Jack, 
 with unnecessary energy and a tone of 
 disgust; "but that's not the question. 
 It's not the custom here to play that sort of 
 thing on a thing like that on a Sunday 
 morning. Ask Cherry." 
 
 "Would it vex my brother?" asked 
 Alvar. 
 
 " If you mean Cheriton, it certainly 
 would. He hates a row." 
 
 " A row ? " said the puzzled Alvar, " that 
 is a noise — my guitar ? " 
 
 " Oh, hang it ! no, a quarrel," began 
 Jack, when suddenly —
 
 128 AN ENGLISH SQUIRE. 
 
 '' Sir, I consider this an act of defiance; 
 1 beg I may see that instrument put away 
 at once," and Mr. Lester's voice took tlie 
 threatening sound that made his anger 
 always appear so much worse than it really 
 was. '' I will have the proprieties of my 
 house observed, and no example of this 
 kind set to your younger brothers." 
 
 Alvar had taken Jack's interference with 
 cool contempt, but now he started up with 
 a look of such passion as fairly subdued 
 Jack into a hasty — 
 
 " Oh come, come, I say, now — don't ! " 
 
 Alvar controlled himself suddenly and 
 entirely. 
 
 " Sir, I obey my father's commands. I 
 will say good morning," and taking up his 
 guitar went up to his own room, from 
 which he did not emerge at church time, 
 and as no one ventured to call him they set 
 off without him. Among themselves they 
 might quarrel and make it up again many 
 times a day, but Alvar' s feelings were 
 evidently more serious. 
 
 It was occasionally Cheriton's practice
 
 A DAY OF EEST. 129 
 
 to sing in the choir, more for the popularity 
 of his example than for his voice, which 
 was indifferent. Alvar had been greatly 
 puzzled at his doing so, and had then told 
 him that "in that white robe he looked like 
 the picture of an angel," a remark which 
 so discomfited Cherry that he had further 
 perplexed his unlucky brother by saying, — 
 
 " Fray don't say such a thing to the 
 others, I should never hear the last of it. 
 You'd better say I look like an ass at 
 once." 
 
 He did not therefore see anything of his 
 family till he met them after the service, 
 when Jack attacked him. 
 
 " What induced you to go out this morn- 
 ing? Everything has gone utterly wrong, 
 and I shouldn't wonder if we should find 
 Alvar gone back to Spain." 
 
 " Why, what's the matter ? " 
 
 " Alvar came down late in that ridiculous 
 coat and then played the guitar. And if 
 ever you saw a fellow in a passion ! He 
 likes his own way." 
 
 " Was father angry ? " 
 
 VOL. I. K
 
 130 AN ENGLISH SQUIRE. 
 
 " I should just think so, I don't expect 
 they'll speak." 
 
 This was a pleasant prospect. Cheriton 
 saw that his father's brow was cloudy, and 
 as he went upstairs his grandmother called 
 him into her room. 
 
 " Cheriton," she said mysteriously, as 
 she sat down and untied her bonnet, " Jack 
 has told you of your brother's behaviour, 
 and it's my belief there's a clue to it, and I 
 hope you'll take warning, for I sometimes 
 think ye've a hankering after that way 
 yourself." 
 
 " What way, grandmamma ? I never 
 play the guitar on a Sunday morning." 
 
 '' Nay, but there's more behind. It's 
 well known how Sunday is profaned in 
 Popish countries. I've heard they keep 
 the shops open in France. Your brother 
 has been brought up among Papists, and 
 it would be a sad thing for your father's 
 son to give all this property into the hands 
 of the priests." 
 
 " Dear me, granny, what a frightful 
 suggestion. But I'm sure Alvar has no
 
 A DAY OF BEST. 131 
 
 Romisli sympatliies. He has no turn for 
 anything of the kind, and I should think 
 the Roman Church was very unattractive 
 in Spain." 
 
 "Ay, but they're very deep." 
 
 "Well," said Cherry, "if Alvar is a 
 Jesuit in disguise, as you say, and rather 
 a dissipated person, as my father seems to 
 think, and has such an appalhng temper 
 as Jack describes, we're in a bad way. I 
 think I'll go and see for myself." 
 
 When Cherry entered Alvar' s room he 
 found this alarming compound of qualities 
 sitting by the fire looking forlorn and lonely. 
 
 " Why, Alvar, what's all this about ? " 
 
 " Ah, my brother," said Alvar, " you 
 were absent and all has been wrong. My 
 father is offended with me. I know not 
 why. He insulted me." 
 
 " Oh, nonsense ! we never talk about 
 being insulted. My father's a httle hasty, 
 but he means nothing by it. What did 
 you do that annoyed him ? " 
 
 "I played my guitar and Jack scolded 
 me. No one shall do so but you." 
 K 2
 
 132 AN ENGLISH SQUIRE. 
 
 " I daresay Jack made an ass of himself 
 — lie often does ; but lie is a thorough 
 good fellow at bottom. You know we do 
 get up in our best clothes on Sunday." 
 
 '' I can do that," said Alvar, " but your 
 Sunday I do not understand. You tell 
 me I may not play at cards or at billiards ; 
 you do not dance nor go to the theatre. 
 What good does it do ? T would go to 
 church, though it is tiresome, and I 
 shudder at the singing. It is a mark, 
 doubtless, of my father's politics; but at 
 home — well, I can smoke, if that is 
 better ? " 
 
 Driven back to first principles, Cheriton 
 hardly knew what to say. '' Of course," 
 he answered. " I have often heard the 
 matter discussed, and I don't pretend to 
 say that at Oxford the best of us are as 
 particular as we might be. But in a 
 country place like this, carelessness would 
 do infinite harm. And, on the whole, I 
 shouldn't like the rule to be otherwise." 
 
 " Alvar sighed, and made no answer. 
 *' But," continued Cherry, ** I think no
 
 A DAY OP REST. 133 
 
 one has a right to impose rules on you. I 
 wouldn't bring out the guitar in the morn- 
 ing — it looks rather odd, you know — nor 
 wear that coat. But we're not so very 
 strict; there are always newspapers about, 
 and novels, and, as you say, you can smoke 
 or talk, or play the piano— I'm sure no 
 one would know what the tune was — or 
 write letters. Really, it might be worse, 
 you know." 
 
 Perhaps Cherry's coaxing voice and eyes 
 were more effectual than his arguments ; 
 any way, Alvar said, '' Well, I will offer 
 my hand to my father, if he will take 
 it." 
 
 " Oh, no ; pray don't make a scene 
 about it. There's the gong. Put on your 
 other coat, and come down. We do eat 
 our dinner on Sunday, and I'm awfully 
 hungry." 
 
 Whether Mr. Lester accepted the coat 
 as a flag of truce, or whether he did not 
 wish to provoke a contest with an unknown 
 adversary, nothing more was said ; but 
 Alvar' s evil star was in the ascendant, and
 
 134 AN ENGLISH SQUIEE. 
 
 he was destined to run counter to his 
 family in a more unpardonable way. 
 
 He had no sympathy whatever with the 
 love for animals, which was perhaps the 
 softest side of his rough kindred. All the 
 English Lesters were imbued with that 
 devotion to live creatures which is ingrain 
 with some natures. No trouble was too 
 great to take for them. Bob and Nettie 
 got up in the morning and went out in all 
 weathers to feed their ferrets, or their 
 jackdaws, or whatever pet was' young, sick, 
 or troublesome. Gheriton's great St. 
 Bernard, Rolla, ranked somewhere very 
 near Jack in his affections, and had been 
 taught, trained, beaten, and petted, till he 
 loved his master with untiring devotion. 
 Mrs. Lester had her chickens and turkeys, 
 Mr. Lester his prize cattle and his horses, 
 some of the latter old and well-tried 
 friends. 
 
 It must be admitted that Oakby was a 
 trying place for people devoid of this senti- 
 ment. Every one had a dog, more or less 
 valuable, and jackdaws and magpies have
 
 A DAT OF EEST. 135 
 
 their drawbacks as members of a family. 
 Alvar openly said that he had never seen 
 anybody make pets of dumb animals, and 
 that he could not understand doing so; 
 and though he took no notice of them, 
 Rolla and an old pointer of Mr. Lester's, 
 called Rose, had already been thrashed for 
 growling at him. 
 
 On this particular Sunday afternoon, 
 the bright cold weather clouded over and 
 promised a thaw. Alvar preferred dulness 
 to the weather out-of-doors, and Cheriton 
 accompanied his father on the Sunday 
 stroll, which included all the beasts on 
 the premises, and generally ended in visits 
 to the old keeper and coachman, who 
 thought it the height of religious advantage 
 to hear the squire read a chapter. 
 
 Mr. Lester was aware that he had been 
 impatient with his son, and that Alvar 
 could not be expected to be imbued with 
 an instinctive knowledge of those forms of 
 religion with which his father had been 
 inspired by his young brilliant wife, when 
 " Fanny " had taught him to restore his
 
 136 AN ENGLISH SQUIRE. 
 
 churcli and build his scliools in a fuller 
 fashion than had satisfied his father, and 
 made him believe that his position de- 
 manded of himself and his family a 
 personal participation in all good works 
 — some control of them he naturally 
 desired. 
 
 He was, as Mr. Ellesmere said, with a 
 little shrug, when forced to yield a point, 
 " a model squire," conscientious and open- 
 handed, but unpersuadable. Perhaps the 
 clear-eyed, wide-souled Fanny might have 
 allowed more readily for the necessary 
 changes of twenty years. Certainly she 
 would better have appreciated a new- 
 comer's difficulties ; while poor Mr. Lester 
 felt that Fanny's ideal was invaded, and 
 not by Fanny's son. It spoilt his walk with 
 Cheriton, and made him reply sharply to 
 the latter's attempts at agreeable conver- 
 sation. Cheriton at length left him at the 
 old gamekeeper's ; and while Mr. Lester's 
 irritable accents were softened into kindly 
 inquiries for the old father, now pensioned 
 off, he chatted to the son, at present in
 
 A DAY OF REST. 137 
 
 command, who had been taking care of a 
 terrier puppy for him. 
 
 Finding that Buffer, so called from his 
 prevailing colour, was looking strong and 
 lively, Cheriton thought it would be as 
 well to accustom him to society, and took 
 him back to the house. He could not help 
 wondering what would become of Alvar 
 when he was left alone at Oakby. Another 
 fortnight would hardly be sufficient to give 
 him any comfortable, independent habits ; 
 how could he endure such deadly dulness 
 as the life there would bring him ? That 
 fortnight would be lively enough, and there 
 would be his cousin, Rupert Lester, for an 
 additional companion, and another Miss 
 Seyton, more attractive than Virginia, for 
 an occasional excitement. If Alvar was 
 so fascinating a person to young ladies, 
 would he — would she — ? An indefinite 
 haze of questions pervaded Cheriton' s mind, 
 and as he reckoned over the county beau- 
 ties whom he could introduce to Alvar, 
 and whom he would surely admire more 
 than just the one particular beauty who
 
 188 AN ENGLISH SQUIRE. 
 
 had first occurred to his thoughts, he 
 reached the house. He found his brothers 
 and Nettie alone in the library, Alvar sit- 
 ting apart in the window, and looking out 
 at the stormy sky. 
 
 " Hallo ! " said Jack, " so you have 
 brought Buffer up. Well, he has grown 
 a nice little chap." 
 
 '' Yes, I thought it was time he should 
 begin his education. Nice head, hasn't he ? 
 He is just like old Peggy." 
 
 " Yes, he'll be a very good dog some 
 day." 
 
 '' Set him down," said Bob ; " let's have 
 a look at him." 
 
 "Little darling!" said Nettie, enthu- 
 siastically. 
 
 Buffer was duly examined, and then, as 
 Cherry turned to the fire to warm himself, 
 observing that it was colder than ever, 
 began to play about the room, while they 
 entered on a discussion of the merits of 
 all his relations up to their dim recollection 
 of his great-grandmother. 
 
 Buffer made himself much at home,
 
 A DAY OF EEST. 139 
 
 poked about tlie room, and at last crossed 
 over to Alvar, who had sat on, unheeding 
 his entrance. Buffer gave his trousers a 
 gentle pull. Alvar shook him off. Here 
 was another tiresome little beast ; then, 
 just as Cherry crossed over to the window 
 in search of him, he made a dart at Alvar's 
 foot and bit it sharply. Alvar sprang up 
 with a few vehement Spanish words, gave 
 the little dog a rough kick, and then dashed 
 it away from him with a gesture of fierce 
 annoyance. Buffer uttered a howl of 
 pain. 
 
 " I say, that's too rough," exclaimed 
 Cherry, snatching up the puppy, which 
 cried and moaned. 
 
 '' But it bit me ! " said Alvar, angrily. 
 
 " I believe you have killed him," said 
 Cheriton. 
 
 " You cruel coward," cried Nettie, burst- 
 ing into a storm of tears. 
 
 Alvar stood facing all the four, their 
 blue eyes flashing scorn and indignation ; 
 but, angry as they were, they were too 
 practical to waste time in reproaches.
 
 140 AN ENGLISH SQUIRE. 
 
 Jack brought a light, and Bob, whose skill 
 in such matters equalled his literary inca- 
 pacity, felt Buffer's limbs scientifically. 
 
 " No ribs broken," he said ; " he's 
 bruised, though, poor little beggar ! Ah ! 
 he has put his shoulder out. Now, Cherry, 
 if your hand's going to shake, give him to 
 Jack. I'll pull it in again." 
 
 " I can hold him steady," said Alvar, in 
 a low voice. 
 
 " No, thank you," said Cherry, curtly, 
 as Jack put a hand to steady his hold, and 
 the operation was performed amid piteous 
 shrieks from Buffer. Alvar had the sense 
 to watch them in silence. What had he 
 done ? A kick and a blow to any domestic 
 animal was common enough in Spain. 
 And now he had roused all this rio^hteous 
 indignation, and, far worse, offended 
 Cherrj^, and seen his distress at the little 
 animal's suffering, and at its cause. Buffer 
 was no sooner laid in Nettie's arms to be 
 cossetted and comforted, than he seized 
 Cherry's hand. 
 
 " Ah, my brother ! I did not know the
 
 A DAT OF EEST. 141 
 
 little clog was yours. I would not touch 
 him—" 
 
 "What difference does that make?" said 
 Cherry, shaking him off and walking away 
 
 " I shall keep my dog out of his way,' 
 said Bob, contemptuously. 
 
 " I suppose Spaniards are savages,' 
 said Jack, in a tone of deadly indignation 
 
 " He'd better play a thousand guitars 
 than hurt a poor little innocent puppy ! " 
 said Nettie, half sobbing. 
 
 Alvar stood looking mournfully before 
 him ; his anger had died out ; he looked 
 almost ready to cry with perplexity. 
 
 Cheriton turned round. " I won't have 
 a fuss made," he said. '^ Take Buffer up- 
 stairs to my room, and don't say a word to 
 any one. It can't be helped." 
 
 " I know ivho I shall never say a word 
 to," said Nettie ; but she obeyed, followed 
 by Jack and Bob. Alvar detained Che- 
 riton. 
 
 " Oh, my brother, forgive me. I would 
 have broken my own arm sooner than see 
 your eyes look at me thus. It is with us
 
 142 AN ENGLISH SQUIRE. 
 
 a word and a blow. I will never strike 
 any little beast again — never." 
 
 He looked so wretched that Cheriton 
 answered reluctantly, " I don't mean to say 
 any more about it." 
 
 " But you are angry still ? " 
 
 " No, I'm not angry. I suppose you feel 
 differently. I hate to see anything suffer." 
 
 "And I to see you suffer, my brother." 
 
 " I ? nonsense ! I tell you that's nothing 
 to do with it. There, let it drop. I shall 
 say no more." 
 
 He escaped, unable further to satisfy his 
 brother, and went upstairs, where Buffer 
 had been put to bed comfortably. 
 
 " Did you ever know such a nasty trick 
 in your life ? " said Jack, as they left the 
 twins to watch the invalid's slumbers. 
 
 "Oh!" said Ch-erry, turning into his 
 room, " it's all hopeless and miserable. 
 We shall never come to any good — never ! " 
 
 *' Oh, come, come now. Cherry," said 
 Jack, for once assuming the office of con- 
 soler. " Buffer '11 do well enough; don't 
 be so despairing."
 
 A DAY OF REST. 143 
 
 Cheriton liad mucli the brighter and 
 serener nature of the two ; but he was sub- 
 ject to fits of reaction, when Jack's cooler 
 temperament held its own. 
 
 'at's not Buffer," he said, "it's Alvar ! 
 How can one ever have any brotherly 
 feeling for a fellow like that ? He's as 
 different as a Red Indian ! " 
 
 '* It vvould be very odd and unnatural if 
 you had much brotherly feeling for him," 
 said Jack. " Why do you trouble yourself 
 about him ? " 
 
 " But he does seem to have taken a sort 
 of fancy to me, and the poor fellow's a 
 stranger ! " 
 
 "You're a great deal too soft about 
 him. Of course he likes you, when 
 you're always looking him up. Don't be 
 superstitious about it — he's only our 
 half-brother ; and don't go down to tea 
 looking like that, or you'll have the 
 governor asking what's the matter with 
 you." 
 
 " Eemember, I'll not have a word said 
 about it," said Cheriton emphatically.
 
 144 AN ENGLISH SQUIRE. 
 
 Nothing was said publicly about it, but 
 Alvar was made to feel himself in disgrace, 
 and endeavoured to re-ingratiate himself 
 with Cherry with a simplicity that was 
 irresistible. He asked humbly after Buf- 
 fer's health, and finally presented him with 
 a silver chain for a collar. 
 
 When Buffer began to limp about on 
 three legs, his tawny countenance looking 
 out above the silver engraved heart that 
 clasped the collar with the sentimental leer 
 peculiar to puppyhood, the effect was suf- 
 ficiently ludicrous ; but he forgave Alvar 
 sooner than his brothers did, and perhaps 
 grateful for his finery, became rather fond 
 of him.
 
 145 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 RUTH. 
 '' She has two eyes so soft and brown." 
 
 There was a little oak-panelled bedroom 
 at Elderthwaite, wliich had been called 
 Ruth's ever since, as a curly-haired, brown- 
 skinned child, the little orphan cousin had 
 come from her grandmother's in London 
 and paid a long visit in the North some 
 five or six years before tlie winter's day on 
 which she now occupied it, when she came 
 to be present at the Lesters' ball. She 
 was a nut-brown maid still, with rough, 
 curly hair and great dark eyes, with curly, 
 upturned lashes — eyes that were like Vir- 
 ginia's in shape, colour, and fervour, but 
 which glanced and gleamed and melted 
 
 VOL. I. L
 
 146 AN ENGLISH SQUIRE. 
 
 after a fashion wholly their own. She was 
 slender and small, and though with no 
 wonderful beauty of feature or perfection 
 of form, whether she sat or stood she made 
 a picture ; all colours that she wore became 
 her, all scenes set off her peculiar grace. 
 "Now, her brown velvet dress, her rusty 
 hair against the dark oak shutter, as she 
 sat crouched up in the window -seat, were 
 a perfect '' symphony in brown." 
 
 Ruth Seyton was an orphan, and lived 
 with her grandmother, Lady Charlton, a 
 gentle, worldly old lady, whose great object 
 was to see her well married, and to steer 
 her course safely through all the dangers 
 that might affect the course of a well- 
 endowed and very attractive girl. The 
 scorn which Ruth felt for the shallow 
 feelings and worldly notions with which 
 she was expected to enter on the question 
 of her own future was justifiable enough, 
 and led to a violent reaction and to a fer- 
 vour of false romance. Ruth had found 
 her hero and formulated her view of life, 
 and the hero was Rupert Lester, whom she
 
 EUTH. 147 
 
 was about to meet at the ball given in 
 Alvar's honour, and between whom and 
 herself lay the memory of something more 
 than a flirtation. 
 
 The theory was, that the hero once found, 
 the grand passion once experienced, was 
 its own justification, itself the proof of 
 depth of character and worth of heart. A 
 girl who paused to consider her lover's 
 character or her friends' disapproval, when 
 she had once given her heart away, was a 
 weak and cold-natured creature in her 
 opinion. She knew that many difficulties 
 lay between her and Rupert Lester, and 
 she gloried in the thought of how they 
 should be overcome, rejoiced in her own 
 discrimination, which could see the dif- 
 ference between this real passion and the 
 worldly motives of some of her other ad- 
 mirers, or the boyish fancy of Cheriton 
 Lester, who talked to her about his brothers 
 and his occupations, and had room in his 
 heart, so it seemed to her, for a thousand 
 lesser loves. Ruth believed that she de- 
 spised flirtation; but there could be no
 
 148 AN ENGLISH SQUIRE. 
 
 harm in being pleasant to a boy sbe bad 
 known all ber life and wbose attentions just 
 now were so convenient. Besides, Cberiton 
 was really very like bis cousin Rupert, 
 very like tbe pbotograpb wbicb sbe 
 now bid away as Virginia came in search 
 of ber. 
 
 Tbe two cousins bad been a great deal 
 together at intervals and were fond of eacb 
 otber, and Virginia knew something about 
 Rupert ; but Ruth knew better than to 
 give ber full confidence on tbe subject. 
 
 " Well," sbe said, as her cousin entered, 
 " and how does the world go with you ? 
 Do you see much of the Lester s ? " 
 
 " Yes ; while the frost lasted I used to 
 go down to the ice with the boys, and we 
 met there. Cberiton comes over here 
 sometimes, and once he brought his 
 brother." 
 
 '* What, tbe Spaniard ? How do they 
 manage ? Is he very queer ? " 
 
 '* Ob, no ! Of course he is very unlike 
 the others. Cherry gets on very well with 
 him. I bebeve Mr. Lester does not wish
 
 EUTH. 149 
 
 the boys to come here much," added Yir- 
 ginia, abruptly. 
 
 " Well, it wasn't approved of in Roland's 
 time," said Ruth. 
 
 "Were we always bad company?" said 
 Virginia. " I have had a great deal to 
 learn. Why did you never make me under- 
 stand better what Elderthwaite was like ?" 
 
 " But, Queenie," said Ruth cautiously, 
 using a pet name of Virginia's girlhood, 
 *' surely you ivei^e told how tumbledown 
 the place was, and how stupid and behind- 
 hand everything would be. Poor dear 
 uncle James ought to have lived fifty years 
 since.*' 
 
 " I don't believe that parish priests 
 taught their people nothing but to catch 
 rats fifty years since," said Virginia, with 
 a touch of the family bitterness in her 
 voice. "Is it because papa is poor that 
 the men-servants get tipsy, and Dick and 
 Harry are always after them? Oh, Ruth,'* 
 suddenly softening, '' I ought not to have 
 said it, but the boys aren't brought up 
 well ; and if you saiv how wretched the
 
 150 AN ENGLISH SQUIRE, 
 
 people in the village are — and tliey look so 
 wicked." 
 
 '^Yes," said Ruth, as Virginia's tears 
 silenced her, ''but you know we Sejtons 
 are a bad lot. We're born, they say, 
 with a drop of bad blood in us. Look at 
 Aunt Julia, she was driven desperate and 
 ran away — small blame to her — when her 
 lover's father forbade the match; but they 
 caught and stopped her. After that she 
 never cared what she did, and just lived 
 bj making fun of things." 
 
 Virginia shuddered. Could her lazy, 
 sarcastic aunt have ever known the thril- 
 lings and yearnings which were beating in 
 her own heart now ? 
 
 " There is not much fun in it," she said. 
 
 "No. As for Dick, I don't think much 
 of 1dm. Poor old Roland was worth a 
 dozen of him. I don't care what people 
 do as long as they are something. But 
 Dick has no fine feelings." 
 
 " Ruth," said Virginia, " I think I was 
 not taught better for nothing. I am sure 
 papa is very unhappy; he thinks how
 
 RUTB. 151 
 
 wrong every tiling is. Poor papa ! Grand- 
 papa was such a bad father for him. I 
 cannot make friends with Dick, and Harry 
 will go back to school. Indoors I have 
 nothing to do ; but I am going to ask 
 Uncle James, and then if I go to the 
 cottages and get the children together a 
 little, perhaps it may be better than nothing. 
 Old nurse says they all grow up bad. 
 Poor things, how can they help it ! " 
 
 "Well, Queanie," said Ruth dubiously, 
 " I don't think the people are very fit for 
 you to go to. I don't think Uncle Seyton 
 would like it." 
 
 "I should not be afraid of them," said 
 Virginia. " It would be doing something 
 for papa, and doing good besides." 
 
 To think of her father as an involuntary 
 victim to the faults of others was the one 
 refuge of Virginia's heart; his graceful, 
 melancholy gentleness had caught her fancy, 
 and she was filled with a pity which, how- 
 ever strange from a child to a father, vi- 
 brated in every tender string of her nature. 
 On the other hand, all her notions of right
 
 152 AN ENGLISH SQUIRE. 
 
 were outraged by the more obvious evils 
 prevailing at Elderthwaite, and she went 
 through in those first weeks a variety of 
 emotions, for which action seemed the only 
 cure. She felt as if the sins of generations 
 lay 'on her father's shoulders, and she 
 wanted to pull them on to her own — 
 wanted to stand in the deadly breach with 
 the little weapon that her small experience 
 had put into her hand. She wanted to 
 teach a few poor children, a thing that 
 might only be a pleasant occupation or the 
 most commonplace of duties. But it was 
 turning her face right round on the smooth 
 slope the Seytons were treading, and trying 
 to make a step up hill. 
 
 Ruth did not think that first step would 
 be easy, and would have liked to see 
 Virginia go downstairs in a somewhat 
 less desperate humour, to find her uncle 
 chatting to Miss Seyton in the drawing- 
 room. 
 
 " Ha, ha. Miss Ruth ! Come North just 
 in time to make a conquest of the fine 
 Frenchman at Oakby."
 
 EUTH. 153 
 
 '' I thought he was a Spaniard, uncle," 
 said E/Uth. 
 
 " Eh, pretty much of a muchness, aren't 
 they ? I've got a card for a grand ball to 
 go and see him. Ha, ha ! I'd sooner see 
 him with a red coat on at Ashrigg meet 
 next Thursday." 
 
 " But you must go to the ball, uncle, 
 and dance with me," said Huth. 
 
 '* That's a bargain," said the jolly 
 parson, striking his hands together. 
 '' Any dance I like ? " 
 
 '' To be sure." 
 
 " Ah, mind you look out, then. When 
 you're sitting quiet with the Frenchman 
 you'll see your old uncle round the 
 corner." 
 
 " I never dance with any one who doesn't 
 know the trois tonps, uncle." 
 
 '' Bless my soul ! My favourite dance 
 is the hornpipe, or old Sir Roger — kiss 
 the girls as you pop under. That's an old 
 parson's privilege, you know." 
 
 All this time Virginia had been standing 
 apart, working up her courage, and now.
 
 154 AX ENGLISH SQUIRE. 
 
 regardless of the unities of conversation, 
 and with a now-or-never feeling, she 
 began, her fresh young voice trembling 
 and her colour rising high . 
 
 ''Uncle James, if you please. I wanted 
 to tell you I shall be very glad to do 
 anything to help you, if you will allow 
 me." 
 
 "Help me, my dear? Teach me the 
 troy tong, or whatever Ruth calls it ? " 
 
 " To help you in the parish, uncle." 
 
 '' Parish ? Ha, ha ! Do they have the 
 pretty girls to read prayers in the grand 
 Ritualistic places nowadays ? " 
 
 " I thought I might perhaps teach some 
 of the children," faltered poor Virginia 
 through her uncle's peal of laughter. 
 
 " Teach ? We don't have many new- 
 fangled notions here, my dear. Do your 
 wool-work, and dance your troij long, and 
 mind your own business." 
 
 '' I have always been accustomed to do 
 something useful," said Virginia, gaining 
 courage from indignation. 
 
 " Now look here, Virginia," said Parson
 
 RUTH. 155 
 
 Seyton emphatically. *' Don't yon go 
 pntting yonr finger into a pie you know 
 nothing of. There's not a cottage in the 
 place fit for a young lady to set her foot 
 in. There's a vast deal too much of young 
 women's meddling in these days ; and as 
 for Elderthwaite, there's an old Methody, 
 as they call him, who groans away to the 
 soberer folks, and comforts their hearts 
 in his own fashion. What could a chit of 
 a lass like you do for them ? Go and 
 captivate the Frenchman with your round 
 eyes — j^ou've a grand pair of them — and 
 give me a kiss." 
 
 Parson Seyton put out his hand and 
 drew her towards him. 
 
 "But, uncle," she stammered, yielding to 
 the kiss in such utter confusion of mind 
 that she hardly knew what she was doing 
 — '' But, uncle, do you lihe that Methodist 
 to — to attract the people ? " 
 
 " Bless your heart, child, people must 
 have their religion their own way. They'd 
 stare to hear me convicting them of 
 their sins. ' What's the parson done with
 
 156 AN ENGLISH SQUIRE. 
 
 his own ? ' they'd ask. But it comforts 
 them Hke blankets and broth, and it's 
 little they get of either," with a side 
 glance at his sister ; " so I take good care 
 to keep out of the way. I told Cherry 
 Lester I should go and hear him some 
 Sunday afternoon. ' Hope it would do 
 you good, parson,' says he, coolly. Eh, 
 he's a fine lad. What a confounded fool 
 old Lester must think himself to have this 
 foreign fellow ready to step into his place." 
 
 " Are you and Cheriton as great friends 
 as ever, uncle?" asked Ruth. 
 
 " Friends ! Oh, he's like Virginia here. 
 Wants to teach me a lesson now and then. 
 Got me over last year to their grand meet- 
 ing of clergy and laity for educational 
 purposes, and there I was up on the plat- 
 form with the best of them." 
 
 " Did you make a speech, uncle ? " asked 
 Ruth. 
 
 " I did, my lass, I did ! When they had 
 quarrelled and disputed, and couldn't by 
 any means agree, some one asked my 
 opinion, and I said, ' My lord,' — Lord •
 
 EUTH. 157 
 
 was there, jou know, — ' and my reverend 
 brethren, having no knowledge whatever 
 of the subject, I have no opinion to give.' 
 And old Thorold — he comes from the 
 other side of the county, mind you, — 
 remarked that ' Mr. Sey ton's old-fashioned 
 wisdom might find followers with advan- 
 tage.' Ha — ha — you should have seen 
 Cherry's blue eyes down below on the 
 benches when I gave him a wink ! ' Old- 
 fashioned wisdom,' Miss Virginia; don't 
 you despise it." 
 
 " Hallo, uncle ! shouted Harry, putting 
 his head in, '' here's a fellow come tearing" 
 up to say the wedding's waited an hour, 
 and if the parson isn't quick they'll do 
 without him." 
 
 " Bless my soul, I forgot all about 'em; 
 Coming — coming — and I'll give 'em a 
 couple of rabbits for the wedding dinner. 
 Virginia '11 never ask me to marry her, 
 that's certain." And off strode the par- 
 son, while poor Virginia, scandalized and 
 perplexed as she was, was fain, like every 
 one else, to laugh at him.
 
 158 AN ENGLISH SQUIRE. 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 THE OLD PAESON. 
 
 " He gave not of that text a pulled hen 
 That saith that hunters ben not holy men." 
 
 Perhaps no amount of angry opposition to 
 lier wislies could so have perplexed Vir- 
 ginia as her uncle's noiichalance, which, 
 whether cynical or genial, seemed to re- 
 move him from the ranks of responsible 
 beings, and to make him a law unto him- 
 self. When we read of young high-souled 
 martyrs, we are apt to fancy that their 
 way was plain before them ; that however 
 hard to their flesh, it was at least clear to 
 their spirit; that Agnes or Cecilia, how- 
 ever much afflicted by the wickedness of 
 their adversaries, were never perplexed by 
 anything in them that was perhaps not
 
 THE OLD PARSON. 159 
 
 ■wicked. Virginia Seyton was full of de- 
 sires as pure, wishes as warm to lead the 
 higher life, was capable of as much '^ en- 
 thusiasm of humanity" as any maiden who 
 defied torture and death ; but she was 
 confronted by a kind of difficulty that 
 made her feel like a naughty girl ; the 
 means to fulfil her purpose were open to 
 so much objection that she could hardly 
 hold firmly to the end in view. It may 
 seem a very old difficulty, but it came upon 
 her as a startling surprise that so much 
 evil could be permitted by those who were 
 not altogether devoid of good. For she 
 was inclined to be sorry for this jolly, 
 genial uncle, and not to wish to vex him ; 
 while yet his every practice and sentiment 
 was such as she had been rightly taught to 
 disapprove. 
 
 Anxious for a chance of settling her 
 confused ideas, she slipped away by her- 
 self, and went out into the muddy lanes, 
 heedless of a fast-falling shower. 
 
 The thaw had set in rapidly, and rich 
 tints of brown, green, and yellow sue-
 
 160 AN ENGLISH SQUIRE. 
 
 ceedecl to the cold whiteness of the snow 
 on moor and hill-side. A thaw, when the 
 snow has fairly gone, even in the depth of 
 winter, has a certain likeness to spring; 
 the violent, buffeting wind was warm and 
 soft, and the sky, instead of one pale sheet 
 of blue, showed every variety of wild rain- 
 cloud and driven mist. 
 
 Virginia plunged on through the mud 
 with a perplexity in her soul as blinding 
 as the tears that rose and confused the 
 landscape already half-blotted out by 
 wreaths of mountain mist. Suddenly, as 
 she turned a corner, something bounced 
 up against her, nearly knocking her down, 
 and a voice exclaimed, — 
 
 " Down, Eolla ! How dare you, sir ! 
 Oh, dear me, how sorry I am ! that great 
 brute has covered you with mud;" and 
 Cheriton Lester, very muddy himself, and 
 holding by the neck an object hardly re- 
 cognizable as Buffer, appeared before her. 
 
 *' I was very muddy before," said Vir- 
 ginia. " Why, what has happened to the 
 puppy?"
 
 THE OJiD PAKSON. 161 
 
 ''He fell into the ditch. Nettie will 
 wash him ; it's her favourite amusement. 
 I was coming up here to ask after a young 
 fellow I knovs^j who works at this farm; 
 he hasn't been going on very well lately." 
 
 " I suppose you know every one in 
 Oakby," said Virginia, abruptly. 
 
 " Pretty well," answered Cherry. " I 
 couldn't help doing so." 
 
 " I should like to know the people in 
 Elderthwaite," said Virginia. 
 
 " It would be a very good thing for some 
 of them if you did." 
 
 " Ah ! " she said, suddenly, " but Uncle 
 James will not let me do so." 
 
 " Ah ! " said Cherry, with an inflection 
 in his voice that Virginia did not under- 
 stand. Then he added quickly, " What 
 did you want to do ? " 
 
 " I wanted," said Virginia, moved, she 
 hardly knew why, to confidence as they 
 walked on side by side, " to go to the cot- 
 tages sometimes, and perhaps teach some 
 of the children. Don't you think it would 
 be right? " 
 
 VOL. I. M
 
 162 AN ENGLISH SQUIKE. 
 
 " I think it would hardly do for you to go 
 about at haphazard among the cottagers." 
 
 '' But why ? I am used to poor people," 
 said Virginia. 
 
 Her sentences were short, because she 
 was afraid of letting her voice tremble ; but 
 she looked at him earnestly, and how could 
 he tell her that many of the people whom 
 she wished to benefit owed her family 
 grudges deep enough to make her unwel- 
 come within their walls, how betray to her 
 that the revelations they might make to 
 her would affect her relations to her own 
 family more than she could hope to affect 
 their lives in return. But Cheriton was 
 never deaf to other people's troubles, and 
 lie answered with great gentleness — 
 
 *' Because we're a rough set up here in 
 the North, and they would scarcely under- 
 stand your kind motives. But the children 
 ■ — I wish you could get hold of them ! I 
 do wish something could be done for them. 
 What did the old parson say to you ? " 
 
 "He said he didn't approve of education." 
 
 " Oh, that's no matter at all ! I declare
 
 THE OLD PAESON. 163 
 
 I think I see how you might do it, and we'll 
 make the parson hunt up a class for jou 
 himself ! What ! you don't believe me ? 
 You will see. Could you go down to the 
 vicarage on Sunday mornings ? " 
 
 " Oh, yes ! but Uncle James — " 
 
 " Oh, I'll make him come round. They 
 might send over some benches from Oakby, 
 and the children would do very well in the 
 vicarage hall." 
 
 " But, Cheriton," exclaimed tlie asto- 
 nished Virginia, " you can't hioio what my 
 uncle said about it ! " 
 
 " He said, ' Eh, they're a bad lot. No 
 use meddling with them,' didn't he ? " 
 said Cheriton, in the very tone of the old 
 parson. 
 
 '' Something like it." 
 
 " Never mind. He would like to see 
 them a better lot in his heart, as well as 
 you or I would." 
 
 " Ruth says he is really very kind," said 
 Virginia; *' and I think he means to be." 
 
 " Ah, yes, your cousin knows all our odd 
 ways, you know. She is with you ? " 
 
 M 2
 
 164 AN ENGLISH SQUIKE. 
 
 " Yes, she came yesterday." 
 
 *' All I slie knows that he is a very kind 
 old boy. He loves every stone in Elder- 
 thwaite, and you would be surprised to find 
 how fond some of the people are of him. 
 Now I'll go and see him, and come and tell 
 you what he says. May I ? " 
 
 " To be sure/' said Virginia, '^ and per- 
 haps then Aunt Julia will not object." 
 
 '' Oh, no, not to this plan,'* said Cherry. 
 
 He called Rolla, and went in search of 
 the parson. 
 
 Cherry liked management ; it was partly 
 the inheritance of his father's desire for 
 influence, and partly his tender and genial 
 nature, which made him take so much 
 interest in people as to enjoy having a 
 finger in every pie. As he walked along, 
 he contrived every detail of his plan. 
 
 Jack was wont to observe that Elder- 
 thwaite was a blot on the face of the earth, 
 and a disgrace to any system, ecclesiastical 
 or political, that rendered it possible. But 
 then Jack was much devoted to his young 
 house-master, and wrote essays for his
 
 THE OLD PARSON. 165 
 
 benefit, one of wliicli was entitled, '' On 
 the Evils inherent in every existing Form 
 of Government," so that he felt it con- 
 sistent to be critical. Cheriton had a soft 
 spot in his heart for a long existing form 
 of anything. 
 
 He soon arrived at the vicarage, a pic- 
 turesque old house, built half of stone and 
 half of black and white plaster. It was 
 large, with great overgrown stables and 
 farm-buildings, all much out of repair. 
 Cheriton found the parson sitting in the 
 old oak dining-room before a blazing fire, 
 smoking his pipe. Some remains of lun- 
 cheon were on the table, and the parson 
 was evidently enjoying a glass of some- 
 thing hot after it. Cheriton entered with 
 little ceremony. 
 
 " How d'ye do. Parson ? " he said. 
 
 " Ha, Cherry ! how d'ye do, my lad ? Sit 
 down and have some lunch. What d'ye take? 
 there's a glass of port in the sideboard." 
 
 " Thanks, I'd rather have a glass of beer 
 and some Stilton," said Cherry, seating 
 himself.
 
 166 AN ENGLISH SQUIRE. 
 
 As lie spoke, a little bit of an old woman 
 came in with some cold pheasant and a jug 
 of beer, wliicli slie placed before him. She 
 was wrinkled up almost to nothing, but 
 her steps were active enough, and she had 
 lived with Parson Seyton all his hfe. 
 
 " Ay, Deborah knows your tastes. And 
 what do you want of me ? " 
 
 " I want to give you a lecture. Parson," 
 said Cherry coolly. 
 
 '' The deuce you do ? Out with it, then." 
 
 '« Virginia has been telling me that you 
 will not let her teach the little kids on a 
 Sunday." 
 
 " Bless my soul, Cheriton ! d'ye think 
 I'm going to let the girl run all over the 
 place and hear tales of her father and 
 brothers, and may be of myself into the 
 bargain? " 
 
 " No," said Cherry; " but you ought to 
 be very much obliged to her. Parson. It's 
 a shame to see those little ruffians. Now 
 you're going to call on half-a-dozen 
 decentish people and tell them to send 
 their children down here of a Sunday
 
 THE OLD PARSON. 167 
 
 morning at ten o'clock. Yirginia will 
 teacli tliem in tlie hall. 1*11 get them to 
 send over a couple of forms from Oakby. 
 Don't let her begin with above a dozen, 
 and don't have any big boys at first. 
 Deborah might give them a bit of cake 
 now and again to make the lessons go 
 down. What do you say ? " 
 
 " I say you're the coolest hand in 
 "Westmoreland, and enough to wile the 
 flounders out of the frith ! " said the old 
 parson, as Cherry peeped at him over his 
 shoulder to see the effect of his words. 
 
 " What are we coming to ? " 
 
 ''A model school, perhaps." 
 
 "And a model parson. Eh, Cherry, 
 these enhghtened days can't do with the 
 old lot much longer." 
 
 " Oh, you're moving with the times," 
 said Cherry, as he came and stood with 
 his back to the fire, looking down at the 
 parson as he filled his pipe, and smiling at 
 him. Perhaps no other being in the world 
 could have got Parson Seyton to consent 
 to such an innovation, but he loved
 
 168 AN ENGLISH SQUIEE. 
 
 Cheriton Lester, wlio little knew liow 
 mucli self-respect the allegiance of his 
 high-principled promising youth was worth 
 to the queer old sporting parson. One 
 atom of pretence or of priggishness in a 
 well-conducted correct young man would 
 have been of all things odious to him, but 
 the shrewd old man believed in Cheriton 
 to the backbone, and of all the admiration 
 and affection that the popular young man 
 had won perhaps none did him so much 
 credit as the love that made him a sort of 
 good angel to rough Parson Seyton. 
 
 " You got my best dog out of me when 
 I gave you Rolla," he said, " so I suppose 
 you'll have your own way now." 
 
 " And it'll turn out quite as well as 
 Rolla," said Cherry rather illogically. 
 
 Parson Seyton set about fulfilling his 
 promise after a manner of his own. 
 
 He rapped with his dog-whip at a 
 cottage door and thus addressed the 
 mother : — 
 
 '* Eh, Betty, there's a grand new start 
 in Elderthwaite. Here's Miss Virginia
 
 THE OLD PARSON. 169 
 
 going to turn all tlie cliildren into first-rate 
 scholars. Wash them up and send them 
 over to my house on Sunday morning, and 
 I'll give a penny to the cleanest, and a 
 licking to any one that doesn't mind his 
 manners." 
 
 If Parson Seyton had been a school- 
 board visitor he could hardly have put the 
 matter more plainly, and on the whole 
 could hardly have adopted language more 
 likely to be effectual.
 
 170 AN ENGLISH SQUIEE. 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 ALVAB CONFIDENTIAL. 
 
 '' He talked of daggers and of darts, 
 Of passions and of pains." 
 
 The rain had ceased, and long pale rays of 
 sunshine were streaming through the mist 
 as Cheriton made his way through a very 
 dilapidated turnstile and across a footpath 
 much in need of drainage towards Elder- 
 thwaite House. As he came up through 
 the overgrown shrubberries he saw in front 
 of him a small fur- clothed figure, and his 
 colour deepened and his heart beat faster 
 as he recognized Euth. He had been 
 thinking that he should see her ever since 
 his promise to Virginia, but he had not 
 expected to meet her out-of-doors on so
 
 ALYAR CONFIDENTIAL. 171 
 
 wet a day, and lie had hardly a word to 
 say as he lifted his hat and came up to her. 
 She was less discomposed, perhaps less 
 astonished. 
 
 '' Ah! how do you do ? " she said. '* Do 
 you know when I saw some one coming I 
 hoped it might be your new brother. I 
 am so curious to see him." 
 
 " He is not a bit like any of us," said 
 Cherry. 
 
 *' No ? That would be a change, for all 
 you Lesters are so exactly alike." 
 
 E-uth had a way of saying saucy things 
 in a soft serious voice, with grave eyes 
 just ready to laugh. Cheriton and she 
 had had many a passage of arms to- 
 gether, and now he rallied his forces and 
 answerd, — 
 
 " Being new, of course he'll be charming. 
 Rupert and Jack and I will know all our 
 partners are longing for him. But as he 
 can only dance with one young lady at a 
 time, in the intervals I shall hope — I am 
 much improved in my waltzing — just to 
 get a turn,"
 
 172 AN ENGLISH SQUIKE. 
 
 "Reallj improved — at last?" said Ruth; 
 then suddenly changing to sympathy — 
 "But isn't it very strange for you all? 
 How do you get on ? How do you like 
 him?" 
 
 " Oh, he isn't half a bad fellow, and we're 
 excellent friends." 
 
 " That's very good of you. Now I have 
 such a bad disposition that if I were in 
 your place I should be half mad with 
 jealousy." 
 
 Cheriton laughed incredulously. 
 
 *' I daresay you would stroke us all 
 down the right way. Eupert says he feels 
 as if he were lighting his cigar in a powder- 
 magazine. But they get on verj'- well, and 
 Grace and Mary Cheriton think him per- 
 fectly charming." 
 
 " I think I shall come to the ball in a 
 mantilla. But have you done anything 
 for poor Virginia ? " 
 
 *' Oh, yes; the old parson only wanted a 
 little explanation," said Cherry, quite care- 
 lessly enough to encourage Ruth in adding 
 earnestly, —
 
 ALVAR CONFIDENTIAL. 173 
 
 ''It is SO good of lier to want to lielp 
 tliese poor people. Queenie is like a girl 
 in a book. I really think slie likes dis- 
 agreeable duties." 
 
 " I am sure you, wlio can sympatliize 
 witli Virginia and yet know all the troubles, 
 will be able to make it smooth for her. T 
 wish you would." 
 
 " Ah, but I am not nearly so good as 
 Virginia," said Ruth — a perfectly true 
 statement, which she herself believed. 
 Whether she expected Cheriton to believe 
 it was a different matter. 
 
 Alvar had no excuse now for finding 
 Oakby dull ; the house was full of people, 
 Lady Cheriton and her daughters were 
 enchanted with his music, and he brightened 
 up considerably and was off Cheriton's 
 mind, so that nothing spoilt the radiance 
 of enjoyment that transfigured all the 
 commonplace gaiety into a fairy dream. 
 The younger ones found the times less 
 good. Jack was shy and bored by fine 
 people, Bob hated his dress clothes, Nettie 
 was teased by Rupert, who varied between
 
 174 AN ENGLISH SQUIEE. 
 
 treating her as a Tomboy and flattering her 
 as an incipient beauty, and tliouglit her 
 grandmother's restrictions to white mushn 
 and bhie ribbons hard. But Mrs. Lester 
 had no notion of letting her forestall her 
 career as a county beauty. 
 
 When Cheriton came back from Elder- 
 thwaite he found the whole party by the 
 hall fire in the full tide of discussion and 
 chatter, Nettie on the rug with Buffer 
 in her arms complaining of the white 
 muslin. 
 
 " Sha'n't I look horrid, Eupert ?" 
 
 ''Frightful; but as you'll be sure to 
 bring Buffer into the ball-room he'd tear 
 anything more magnificent." 
 
 " I sha'n't bring in Buffer ! Rupert, 
 what an idea ! He'll be shut up, poor 
 darling ! But at least I may turn up my 
 hair, and I shall. I'm quite tall enough." 
 
 " Turn your hair up ? Don't you do 
 anything of the sort, Nettie. Little girls 
 are fashionable, and yellow manes and 
 muslin frocks will carry the day against 
 wreaths and silk dresses. You let your
 
 ALVAR CONFIDENTIAL. 175 
 
 hair alone, and then people will know it's 
 all real bj-and-by." 
 
 " Well, I'd mucli rather turn it up," 
 said Nettie simply. 
 
 '' Well, perhaps I would," said Eupert. 
 " Fellows might say you let it down on 
 purpose." 
 
 Rupert conveyed a great deal of admira- 
 tion of the golden locks in his tone, but 
 Nettie, though vain enough, was insensible 
 to veiled flattery. 
 
 "Plait it up, Nettie," said Cherry 
 briefly. 
 
 " If anybody thought I did such a nasty, 
 mean, affected thing as that I'd never 
 speak to him again. Never ! I'd cut it 
 all ofl* sooner," cried Nettie. 
 
 '' Young ladies' hair does come down 
 sometimes," said Rupert ; '* when it's long 
 enough." 
 
 " Mine never shall," said Nettie emphati- 
 cally. 
 
 " Don't do it yourself, then," said 
 Cherry. 
 
 '' If Nettie ever takes to horrid, affected,
 
 176 AN ENGLISH SQUIEE. 
 
 flirting ways," said Jack, who had joined 
 the party, '' I for one shall have nothing 
 more to say to her." 
 
 ''You don't admire flirts. Jack?" said 
 E/upert. 
 
 " I don't approve of them," said Jack 
 crossly. 
 
 " Oh, come, come, now. Jack, that's 
 very severe." 
 
 " Poor Jack ! " said Cherry ; ''he speaks 
 from personal experience. There was that 
 heartless girl last summer, who, after hours 
 of serious conversation with him, went off* 
 to play croquet with Tom Hubbard, and 
 gave him a moss-rose-bud. Poor Jack ! 
 it was a blow ; he can't recover from it ! 
 It has affected all his views of life, you see." 
 
 "Poor fellow!" said Eupert, as Jack 
 forcibly stopped Cherry's mouth; "I'd no 
 notion it was a personal matter. Will she 
 be at the ball?" 
 
 " No; you see, we avoided asking her." 
 
 " Cherry ! " interposed the disgusted 
 Jack, " how can you go on in this way ! 
 It's all his humbug, Rupert."
 
 ALVAR CONFIDENTIAL. 177 
 
 This serious denial produced, of course, 
 shouts of laughter — in the midst of 
 which Alvar entered and joined himself 
 to the group round the fire as they 
 waited for the arrival of some friends of 
 Cheriton's. 
 
 ''And what have you been about?" 
 asked Cherry. 
 
 '' I have been singing with your cousins. 
 Ah, it is pleasant when there are those 
 who hke music ! " 
 
 " You found all these fellows awful 
 savages, didn't you?" said Hupert. 
 
 Alvar turned his great dark eyes on 
 Cheriton with the same sort of expression 
 with which Rolla was wont to watch him. 
 
 " Ah, no," he said; '' my brother is not 
 a savage. But I do like young ladies." 
 
 '' But I thought," said Rupert, '' that in 
 Spain young ladies were always under a 
 duenna, so that there was no chance of an 
 afternoon over the piano ?" 
 
 " But I assure you Miladi Cheriton was 
 present," said Alvar seriously. 
 
 " Oh, that alters the question ! " said 
 
 VOL. I. N
 
 178 AN ENGLISH SQUIRE. 
 
 Rupert. " But come, now, we have been 
 hearing Jack's views — let us have your 
 confessions. Is the duenna akvays there, 
 Alvar ? " 
 
 " Here is my sister," said Alvar, with 
 the oddest sort of simplicity, and yet with 
 a tone that conveyed a sort of reproach to 
 Rupert and — for the first time — of pro- 
 prietorship in Nettie. 
 
 Rupert burst into a shout of laughter : 
 '' My dear fellow, what are you going to 
 tell us?" 
 
 '' She is a young girl ; surely even here 
 you do not say everything to her ? " said 
 Alvar, looking perplexed. 
 
 '' By Jove, no ! " said Rupert ; '' not 
 exactly." 
 
 " Since Nettie is here, we should not 
 have asked you to tell us anything we did 
 not wish her to hear," said Cheriton, wdtli 
 a sense of annoyance that Alvar should be 
 laughed at. 
 
 " You did not ask me," said Alvar 
 quietly. 
 
 At this moment Bob called Nettie so
 
 ALVAR CONFIDENTIAL. 179 
 
 emphatically, that she was obliged un- 
 willingly to go away. 
 
 " Now then, Alvar," said Rupert, '' now 
 for it. We won't be shocked. Tell us 
 how you work the duennas." 
 
 " It would not have been well to explain 
 that to Nettie," said Alvar seriously. 
 
 ''Why not?" said Jack, suddenly boil- 
 ing up. " Do you think she would ever 
 cheat or want a duenna? Enghsli girls 
 can always be trusted !" 
 
 " Can they ? " said Rupert. " Shut up, 
 Jack; you don't understand. We only 
 want you to tell us how you do in Spain. 
 Affaires du coeur — you know, Alvar." 
 
 Alvar looked round with an air lialf- 
 shrewd, half- sentimental ; while Cheriton 
 listened a httle seriously. He knew very 
 Httle of Alvar's former life; perhaps be- 
 cause he had been too reticent to ask him 
 questions; perhaps because Alvar found 
 himself in the presence of a standard 
 higher than he was accustomed to. Any- 
 way, Nettie might have heard his present 
 revelations. 
 
 N 2
 
 180 AN ENGLISH SQUIRE. 
 
 " There was a time," he said, sighing, 
 *' when I did not intend to come to Eng- 
 land — when I had sworn to be for ever a 
 Spaniard. Ah, my cousin, if you had seen 
 my Luisa, you would not have wondered. 
 I sang under her window ; I went to mass 
 that I might gaze on her." 
 
 ''Did you now? Foreign customs!" 
 interposed Rupert ; while Cherry laughed, 
 though he felt they were hardly treating 
 Alvar fairly. 
 
 " I knew not how to speak to her. She 
 was never alone ; and it was whispered 
 that she was already betrothed. But one 
 day she dropped her fan." 
 
 ''No, no — surely ? " said Cherry. 
 
 " I seized it, I kissed it, I held it to my 
 heart," said Alvar, evidently enjoying the 
 narration, " and I returned it. There were 
 looks between us — then words. Ah, I 
 lived in her smiles. We met, we ex- 
 changed vows, and I was happy ! " 
 
 Rupert listened to this speech with 
 amusement, which he could hardly stifle. 
 It was inexpressibly ludicrous to Cheriton ;
 
 ALVAIi CONFIDENTIAL. 181 
 
 but the fun was lost in the wonder whether 
 Alvar meant what he said. This was 
 neither hke the joking sentiment nor the 
 pretended indifference of an Enghshman's 
 reference to such passages in his Hfe ; jet 
 the memory evidently cost Alvar no pain. 
 Jack sat, looking totally disgusted. 
 
 '' At last," Alvar went on, " we were 
 discovered. Ah, and then my grandfather 
 was enraged, and her parents, they refused 
 their consent, since she was betrothed 
 already. I am an Englishman, and T do 
 not weep when T am grieved, but my heart 
 was a stone. I despaired." 
 
 " She must have been a horrid little flirt 
 not to tell you she was engaged," said Jack. 
 
 '' She did not know it till we had met," 
 said Alvar. 
 
 " What awful tyranny ! " 
 
 '' Ah, and she was your only love ! " 
 sighed Rupert. 
 
 " No," said Alvar simply, '* I have loved 
 others; but she was the most beautiful. 
 But I submitted, and now I forget her ! " 
 
 " Hm — the truest wisdom," said Rupert.
 
 182 AN ENGLISH SQUIRE. 
 
 Cherry was growing angry. He did not 
 think that Rupert had any business to 
 make fun of Alvar, and he was in a rage 
 with Alvar for making himself ridiculous. 
 That Alvar should tell a true love-tale with 
 sentimental satisfaction to an admiring 
 audience, or sigh over a flirtation which 
 ought to have been a good joke, was 
 equally distasteful to him. He burst out 
 suddenly, with all his Lester bluntness, 
 and in a tone which Alvar had hitherto 
 heard only from Jack, — 
 
 " If you fellows are not all tired of talk- 
 ing such intolerable nonsense, I am. It's 
 too bad of you, with a sharp look at 
 Eupert. '' I don't see that it's any affair 
 of ours." 
 
 '' You're not sympathetic," said Eupert, 
 as he moved away ; for he was quite fami- 
 liar enough with his cousins for such giving 
 and taking.
 
 183 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 THE OAKBT BALL. 
 
 " She went to the ball, and she danced with the hand- 
 some prince." 
 
 That week of gaiety, so unusual to Oakbj, 
 was fraught with great results. The dim 
 and beautiful dream of the future which 
 had grown with Cheriton Lester's growth 
 became a definite purpose. Ruth Seyton 
 was his first love, almost his first fancy. 
 Whatever other sentiments and flirtations 
 had come across him, had been as light as 
 air ; he had loved Ruth ever since he had 
 taught her to ride, and since she had tried 
 to teach him to dance. He had always 
 found her ready to talk to him of the 
 thoughts and aspirations which found no
 
 18-i AN ENGLISH SQUIRE. 
 
 sympathy at home, and still more ready to 
 tease him about them. She was part of 
 the dear and sacred home affections, the 
 long accustomed life which held so power- 
 ful a sway over him, and she was besides a 
 wonderful and beautiful thing, peculiar to 
 himself, and belonging to none of the 
 others. 
 
 He had not seen her since the season 
 when he had met her in town with Vir- 
 ginia ; he did not know very much really 
 about her, but she was kind and gracious 
 to him, and he walked about in a dream of 
 bliss which made every commonplace duty 
 and gaiety delightful. Ruth was mixed up 
 in it all, it was all in her honour; and 
 though Cheriton's memory at this time 
 was not to be depended on, he had spirits 
 for any amount of the hard work of pre- 
 paration, and a laugh for every disagree- 
 able. 
 
 He regarded his tongue as tied till after 
 he had taken his degree in the summer — 
 he hoped with credit ; after which his pros- 
 pects at the bar with Judge Cheriton's
 
 THE OAKBY BALL. 185 
 
 interest, were somewliat less obscure than 
 tliose of most young men. He had in- 
 herited some small fortune from his 
 mother, and though he could not consider 
 himself a brilliant match for Miss Seyton, 
 he would then feel himself justified in put- 
 ting his claims forward. Many spoke with 
 admiration of the entire absence of jealousy 
 which made him take the second place so 
 easily; but Cheriton hardly deserved the 
 praise, he had no room in his mind to 
 think of himself at all. 
 
 His cousin Rupert was a more recent 
 acquaintance of Ruth's, though matters 
 had gone much further between them. 
 His attentions had not been encouraged 
 by her grandmother, as, though his fortune 
 was far superior to anything Cheriton 
 possessed, his affairs were supposed to be 
 considerably involved, and this was so far 
 true, that it would have been very incon- 
 venient to him to lay them open to inquiry 
 at present. He hoped, however, in the 
 course of a few months to be able so to 
 arrange them, as to make it possible to
 
 186 AN ENGLISH SQUIRE. 
 
 apply to Ruth Sey ton's guardians for their 
 consent. 
 
 Rupert was a hvely, pleasant fellow, with 
 a considerable regard for his Oakby 
 cousins, though he had never considered it 
 necessary to regulate his life by the Oakby 
 standard, or concerned himself greatly 
 with its main principles. His life in the 
 army had of course been quite apart from 
 Cheriton's at school and college, and the 
 latter did not care to realize how far the 
 elder cousin, once a model in his eyes, had 
 grown away from him. Nor did he regard 
 him as a rival. 
 
 Ruth gave smiles and dances to himself, 
 and he little guessed that while he did his 
 duty joyously in other directions, look- 
 ing forward to his next word with her, she 
 had given his cousin a distinct promise, and 
 engaged to keep it secret till such time as 
 he chose to ask for her openly. Perhaps 
 Rupert could not be expected to scruple at 
 such a step, when he knew how entirely 
 Ruth had managed her affairs for herself in 
 all her intercourse with him.
 
 THE OAKBT BALL. 187 
 
 And as for Rutli she rejoiced in the 
 chance of making a sacrifice to prove her 
 love ; and whether the sacrifice was of 
 other people's feelings, her own ease and 
 comfort, or of any little trifling scruples of 
 conscience, ought, she considered, to be 
 equally unimportant. " Love must still be 
 lord of all," but the love that loves honour 
 more was in her eyes weak and unworthy. 
 Faults in the hero only proved the strength 
 of his manhood ; faults in herself were all 
 condoned by her love. 
 
 E/uth was clever enough to pitt into 
 words the inspiring principles of a great 
 many books that she read, and a great deal 
 of talk that she heard, and vehement 
 enough to act up to it. Rupert, who had 
 no desire to be at all unlike other people, 
 had little notion of the glamour of enthu- 
 siasm with which Ruth plighted him her 
 troth at Oakby. 
 
 The Lesters had expended much abuse 
 on the morning of their ball on the 
 blackness of the oak-panels, which no 
 amount of wax candles would overcome
 
 188 AN ENGLISH SQUIIiE. 
 
 but what was lost in gaiety was gained in 
 picturesque ness, and the Oakby ball, with 
 its handsome hosts and its distinguished 
 company, was long quoted as the prettiest 
 in the neighbourhood. Perhaps it owed 
 no little of its charm to the one in whose 
 honour it was given. Alvar in society was 
 neither silent nor languid ; he was a splen- 
 did dancer, and played the host with a 
 foreign grace that enchanted the ladies, old 
 and young. At the dinner-party the night 
 before he had been silent and stately, evi- 
 dently fearing to commit himself before the 
 country gentlemen and county grandees, 
 who were such strange specimens of hu- 
 manity to him ; but with their daughters 
 it was different, and those were happy 
 maidens who danced with the stranger. 
 He was of course duly instructed whom he 
 was thus to honour, but he found time 
 to exercise his own choice, and Virginia 
 was conscious that he paid her marked 
 attention. 
 
 Why waste more words ? She had found 
 her fate, and softened with home troubles,
 
 THE OAKBY BALL. 189 
 
 attracted by the superiority of the Lesters, 
 and dazzled with the charm of a manner 
 and appearance never seen before, yet 
 suiting all her girlish dreams of heroic 
 perfection, she was giving her heart away 
 to the last man whose previous training 
 or present character was likely really to 
 accord with her own. 
 
 Though she had never been an acknow- 
 ledged beauty, she could often look beau- 
 tiful, and the subtle excitement of half- 
 conscious triumph was not wanting to 
 complete the charm. 
 
 '' There never had been such a pleasant 
 ball," said Cheriton the next morning, 
 as he was forced to hurry away to Ox- 
 ford without a chance of discussing its 
 delights. 
 
 *' It is indeed possible to dance in 
 England," said Alvar. 
 
 " I think we made it out very well," 
 said Rupert, with a smile under his mous- 
 taches. 
 
 '' There are balls — and balls," said Ruth 
 to her cousin. " You don't always have
 
 190 AN ENGLISH SQUIRE. 
 
 black oak, or black Spanisli eyes, eb, 
 Queeiiie ? or some otlier tilings ? " 
 
 And Virginia blusliecl and said notbing. 
 
 Nettie, after all, bad rejoiced in tbe 
 partners of wbicli ber wbite frock and 
 plaited bair bad not defrauded ber (sbe 
 never sbould forgive ber bair for coming 
 down in Rupert's very sigbt in tbe last 
 waltz). Jack bad not been so miserable as 
 be expected ; and Alvar found tbat it was 
 possible to enjoy life in England, and tbat 
 tbe position awaiting bim tbere was not to 
 be despised, even in tbe face of parting 
 from bis beloved Cberiton. 
 
 Rupert by no means considered Alvar 
 as an amusing companion, nor Oakby in 
 tbe dull season an amusing place, but it 
 suited bim now to spend bis leave tbere, 
 and suited bim also to be intimate at 
 Eldertbwaite. Consequently be encou- 
 raged Alvar to make excuses for going 
 tbere, and certainly in finding some in- 
 terests to supply Cberiton's place. He 
 cultivated Dick Seyton, wbo was of an 
 age to appreciate a grown-up man's atten-
 
 THE OAK BY BALL. 191 
 
 tions, SO tliat altogether there was more 
 intercourse between the two houses than 
 had taken place since the clays of Roland. 
 
 Euth was paying a long visit at Elder- 
 thwaite. One of her aunts — her grand- 
 mother's youngest and favourite child — 
 was in bad health, and Lady Charlton was 
 glad to spend some time with her and to 
 be free from the necessity of chaperoning 
 her granddaughter. The arrangement 
 suited Ruth exactly. She could make 
 Elderthwaite her head-quarters, pay several 
 visits among friends in the north, and find 
 opportunities of meeting Rupert, whose 
 regiment was stationed at York, and wlio 
 was consequently within reach of many 
 north country gaieties. 
 
 For the present no gaieties were needed 
 by either to enliven the wintry woods of 
 Elderthwaite; they were as fairy land to 
 the little brown maiden who, among their 
 bare stems and withered ferns found, as 
 she believed, the very flower of life, and 
 had no memory for the bewitching smiles, 
 the soft, half-sentimental laughter, the
 
 192 AN ENGLISH SQUIRE. 
 
 many dances, and tlie preference liardly 
 disguised wliicli were the food of Cheri- 
 ton's memory, and gave liim an object 
 wliicli lightened every uncongenial task. 
 These little wiles had effectually prevented 
 every one from guessing the real state of 
 the case. Eupert's difficulty was that he 
 never could be sure how far Alvar was 
 unsuspicious. There was a certain blank- 
 ness in his way of receiving remarks, cal- 
 culated to prevent suspicion, which might 
 proceed from entire innocence, or from 
 secret observation which he did not choose 
 to betray. But he was always willing to 
 accompany Rupert to Elderthwaite, and in 
 Cheriton's absence found Virginia by far 
 his most congenial companion. 
 
 The amount of confidence already exist- 
 ing between Ruth and her cousin really 
 rendered the latter unsuspicious, and ready 
 to further intercourse with Rupert, believ- 
 ing Ruth to be in a doubtful state of mind, 
 half encouraging, and half avoiding his 
 attentions. And Ruth was very cautious ; 
 she never allowed Rupert to monopolize
 
 THE OAKBY BALL. 193 
 
 her during liis ostensible visits, and i£ 
 any one at Elderthwaite guessed at their 
 stolen interviews, it was certainly not 
 Virginia. 
 
 The scheme of the Sunday class had 
 answered pretty well. Virginia knew how 
 to teach, and though her pupils were rough, 
 the novelty of her grace and gentleness 
 made some impression on them. 
 
 The parson did not interfere with her, 
 and it never occurred to her that he was 
 within hearing, till one Sunday, as she 
 tried to tell them the simplest facts in lan- 
 guage sufficiently plain to be understood, 
 and sufficiently striking to be interesting, 
 and felt, by the noise on the back benches, 
 that she was entirely failing to do so, a 
 head appeared at the dining-room door, 
 and a stentorian voice exclaimed, — 
 
 " Bless my soul, you young ruffians ; is 
 this the way to behave to Miss Seyton ? 
 If any lad can't show respect to a lady in 
 my house, out he'll go, and, by George 
 he won't come in again." 
 
 This unwonted address produced an as- 
 
 VOL. 1.
 
 194 AN ENGLISH SQUIRE. 
 
 tonished silence ; but it friglitened the 
 teacher so mucli' more than her class, that 
 her only resource was to call on the more 
 advanced ones with great solemnity " to 
 say their hymn to the vicar." 
 
 Parson Seyton straightened himself up, 
 and Hstened in silence to — 
 
 " There is a green hill far away," 
 
 stumbled through in the broadest West- 
 moreland ; and when it was over, re- 
 marked, — 
 
 " Very pretty verses. Lads and lasses, 
 keep your feet still and attend to Miss 
 Seyton, and — mind — I can hear ye," a 
 piece of information with which Virginia 
 at any rate could well have dispensed. 
 
 But she was getting used to her rough 
 uncle, and was grateful to Cheriton for the 
 advice that he had given her, and so she 
 told'Alvar one day when they were all 
 walking down to the vicarage, with the 
 ostensible purpose of showing Nettie some 
 enormous mastiff puppies, the pride of the 
 vicar's heart.
 
 THE OAKBY BALL. 195 
 
 In the absence of her own brothers 
 Nettie found Dick Seyton an amusing 
 companion, *' soft " though he might be ; 
 she began by daring him to jump over 
 ditches as well as she could, and ended by 
 finding that he roused in her unsuspected 
 powers of repartee. Nettie found the Miss 
 Ellesmeres dull companions ; they were a 
 great deal cleverer than she was, and 
 expected her to read story books, and care 
 about the people in them. Rupert and Dick 
 found that her ignorance made her none the 
 less amusing, and took care to tell her so. 
 
 So everything combined to make inter- 
 course easy ; and this was not the first 
 walk that the six young people had taken 
 together. 
 
 " Your brother," said Virginia to Alvar, 
 " was very kind to me. I should never 
 have got on so well but for his advice. 
 
 " My brother is always kind," said 
 Alvar, his eyes fighting up. "I cannot 
 tell you how well I love him." 
 
 " I am sure you do," said Virginia 
 heartily, though unable to help smilingi 
 2
 
 196 AN ENCxLISH SQUIRE. 
 
 " But in what was it that he helped 
 you ? " asked Alvar. 
 
 Virginia explained how he had persuaded 
 her uncle to agree to her wishes about 
 teaching the children. 
 
 *' To teach the ignorant?" said Alvar, 
 " Ah, that is the work of a saint ! " 
 
 " Oh, no ! I like doing it. It is no- 
 thing but what many girls can do much 
 better." 
 
 " Ah, this country is strange. In Spain 
 the young ladies remain at home. They 
 go nowhere but to mass. If my sister 
 were in Spain she would not jump over 
 the ditches, nor run after the dogs," 
 glancing at Nettie, who was inciting 
 Holla to run for a piece of stick. 
 
 " Do you think us very shocking ? " said 
 Virginia demurely. 
 
 " Nay," said Alvar. " These are your 
 customs, and I am happy since they permit 
 me the honour of walking by your side, 
 and talking with you. You, like my 
 brother, are kind to the stranger." 
 
 " But you must leave off calling yourself
 
 THE OAKBY BALL. 197 
 
 a stranger. You too are English ; can you 
 not feel yourself so ? " 
 
 " Yes, 1 am an Englisliman," said Alvar. 
 " See, if I stay here, I have money and 
 honour. My father speaks to me of a 
 ' position in the county.' That is to be a 
 great man as I understand it. Nor are 
 there parties here to throw down one 
 person, and then another. In Spain, 
 though not less noble, we are poor, 
 and all things change quickly, and I 
 shall not stay always here in Oakby. I 
 am going to London, and I see that I 
 can make for myself a hfe that pleases 
 me." 
 
 " Yet you love Spain best ? " 
 
 " I love Spain," said Alvar, " the sun- 
 shine and the country; but I am no 
 Spaniard. No, I stayed away from Eng- 
 land because it was my belief that my 
 father did not love me. I was wrong. I 
 have a right to be here ; it was my right 
 to come here long ago, and my right I will 
 not give up ! " 
 
 He drew himself up with an indescribable
 
 198 AiN ENGLISH SQUIRE. 
 
 air of hauteur for a moment, tlien with 
 sudden softness, — 
 
 " And who was it that saw that right 
 and longed for me to come, who opened 
 his heart to me ? It was Cheriton, my 
 brother. He has explained much to me, 
 and says if I learn to love England it will 
 make him happy. And I will love it for 
 his sake." 
 
 "I hope so ; soon you will not find it so 
 dull." 
 
 " Nay, it is not now so dull. Have I 
 not the happiness of your sympathy ? 
 Could I be dull to-day ? " said Alvar, with 
 his winning grace. 
 
 Virginia blushed, and her great eyes 
 drooped, unready with a reply. 
 
 " And there is your cousin," she said, 
 shyly ; * Hie is a companion ; don't you 
 think him like Cheriton ? " 
 
 " Yes, a little ; but Cheriton is like an 
 angel, though he will not have me say so ; 
 but Rupert, he has the devil in his face. 
 But I like him — he is a nice fellow — 
 very nice," said Alvar, the bit of Eng-
 
 THE OAKBY BALL. 199 
 
 lish idiom sounding oddly in his foreign 
 tones. 
 
 Virginia laughed, spite of herself. 
 
 " Ah, I make you laugh," said Alvar. 
 " I wish I had attended more to my Eng- 
 lish lessons ; but there was a time when it 
 was not my intention to come to England, 
 and I did not study. I am not like 
 Cheriton and Jack, I do not love to study. 
 It is very pleasant to smoke, and to do 
 nothing ; but I see it is not the custom 
 here, and it is better, I think, to be like 
 my brother." 
 
 " Some people are rather fond of 
 smoking and doing nothing even in 
 England." 
 
 " It is a different sort of doing nothing. 
 I hear my father or Cheriton rebuke Bob 
 for doing nothing ; but then he is out of 
 doors with some little animal in a bag — 
 his ferret, I think it is called — to catch the 
 rats ; or he runs and gets hot ; that is 
 what he calls doing nothing." 
 
 There was a sort of bonhommie in Alvar' s 
 way of describing himself and his surround-
 
 200 AN ENGLISH SQUIUE. 
 
 ings, and a charm in his manner which, 
 added to a pair of eyes full of fire and 
 expression, and a great deal of implied 
 admiration for herself, produced no small 
 effect on Virginia. 
 
 She saw that he was affectionate and 
 ready to recognize the good in his brothers, 
 and she knew that he had been deprived 
 of his due share of home affection. She 
 did not doubt that he was willing himself 
 to do and to be all that he admired ; and 
 then— he was not boyish and blunt like 
 his brothers, nor so full of mischief as 
 Cheriton, nor with that indescribable want 
 of something that made- her wonder at 
 Rupert's charm in the eyes of Eutli ; she 
 had never seen any one like him. 
 
 She glanced up in his face with eyes that 
 all unconsciously expressed her thoughts, 
 and as he turned to her with a smile they 
 came up to the vicarage garden, at the 
 gate of which stood Parson Seyton talking 
 to Mr. Lester, who was on horseback 
 beside him. 
 
 " Ha, squire," said the parson, " Mon-
 
 THE OAKBY BALL. 201 
 
 sieur Alvar is a dangerous fellow among 
 tlie lasses. Black eyes and foreign ways 
 have made havoc with hearts all the world 
 over." 
 
 Mr. Lester looked towards the approach- 
 ing group. Virginia's delicate face, shy 
 and eager under drooping feathers, and the 
 tall, slender Alvar, wearing his now scru- 
 pulously English morning suit with a grace 
 that gave it a picturesque appropriateness, 
 were in front. Ruth and Rupert lingered 
 a little, and Nettie came running up from 
 behind, with Rolla after her, and Dick 
 Seyton lazily calling on her to stop. Mr. 
 Lester looked at his son, and a new idea 
 struck him. 
 
 " I wish Alvar to make acquaintances,'* 
 he said. '* Nothing but English society 
 can accustom him to his new life." 
 
 Here Alvar saw them, and raised his hat 
 as he came up. 
 
 " Have you had a pleasant walk, 
 Alvar?" said his father, less ^stiffly than 
 usual. 
 
 '' It has been altogether pleasant, sir,"
 
 202 AN ENGLISH SQUIRE. 
 
 said Alvar, " since Miss Seyton has been 
 mj companion." 
 
 Virginia blushed, and went up to lier 
 nncle with a hasty question about the 
 puppies that Nettie was to see, and no one 
 exchanged a remark on the subject; but 
 that night as they were smoking, Rupert 
 ralhed Alvar a little on the impression he 
 was making. 
 
 Alvar did not misunderstand him ; he 
 looked at him straight. 
 
 " I had thought," he said, " that it was 
 here the custom to talk with freedom to 
 young ladies. 1 see it is your practice, my 
 cousin." 
 
 " Yes, yes. Besides, I'm an old friend, 
 you see. Of course it is the custom ; but 
 consequences sometimes result from it — 
 pity if they didn't." 
 
 " But it may be," said Alvar, " that as 
 my father's son, it is expected that I 
 should marry if it should be agreeable to 
 my father ?" 
 
 '' Possibly," said Rupert, unable to 
 resist trying experiments. '' Fellows with
 
 THE OAKBY BALL. 203 
 
 expectations have to be careful, you 
 know." 
 
 " I tliank you," said Alvar. " But I do 
 not mistake a lady wlio has been kind to 
 me, or I should be a coxcomb. Good 
 night, my cousin." 
 
 " Good night," said Rupert, feeling 
 somewhat baffled, and a little angry ; for, 
 after all, he had been perfectly right.
 
 204 AN ENGLISH SQUIUE. 
 
 CHAPTER Xiii. 
 
 TWO SIDES OF A QUESTION. 
 " Love me and leave me not." 
 
 The liill tliat lay between Oakby and 
 Eldertliwaite was partly covered by a 
 thick plantation of larches, through which 
 passed a narrow foot-path. In the sum- 
 mer, when the short turf under the trees 
 was dry and sweet, when the blue sky 
 peeped through the wide - spreading 
 branches, and rare green ferns and blue 
 harebells nestled in the low stone walls, 
 the larch wood was a favourite resort; 
 but in the winter, when the moorland 
 winds were bleak and cold rather than 
 fresh and free, when the fir-trees moaned 
 and howled dismally instead of responding
 
 TWO SIDES OF A QUESTION. 205 
 
 like harps to the breezes, before, in that 
 northern region, one " rosy pkimelet tufted 
 the larch," or one lamb was seen out on 
 the fell side, it was a dreary spot enough. 
 
 All the more undisturbed had it been, 
 and therefore all the more suitable for 
 the secret meetings of Rupert and Ruth. 
 Matters had not always run smooth be- 
 tween them. An unacknowledged tie 
 needs faith and self-restraint if it is to 
 sit easily ; and at their very last parting 
 Rupert expressed enough jealousy at the 
 remembrance of Cheriton's attentions to 
 make Ruth furious at the implied doubt of 
 her faith, forgetting that she was miserable 
 if he played with Nettie, or talked for ten 
 minutes to Virginia. 
 
 Rupert insisted that " Cherry meant 
 mischief.'* Ruth vehemently asserted 
 " that it wasn't in him to mean ; " and 
 after something that came perilously near 
 a quarrel, she broke into a flood of tears, 
 and they parted with renewed protestations 
 of inviolable constancy, and amid hopes of 
 chance meetings in the course of the spring.
 
 206 AN ENGLISH SQUIRE. 
 
 Ruth fled away tlirough the copses to 
 Elderthwaite feeling as if life would be 
 utterly blank and dark till their next 
 meeting; and Rupert strolled homeward, 
 thinking much of Ruth, and not best 
 pleased to meet his uncle coming back 
 from one of his farms, and evidently 
 inclined to be sociable ; for Rupert, as 
 compared with Alvar, had an agreeable 
 familiarity. 
 
 Mr. Lester, though he had held as httle 
 personal intercourse with Alvar as the cir- 
 cumstances of the case permitted, had 
 hardly ceased, since he came home, to 
 think of his future, and that with a con- 
 scientious effort at justice and kindness. 
 He still felt a personal distaste to Alvar, 
 which ruffled his temper, and often made 
 him less than civil to him ; but none the 
 less did he wish his eldest son's career to 
 be creditable and fortunate, nor desire to 
 see him adapt himself to the pursuits likely 
 to be required of him. He made a few 
 attempts to instruct him and interest him 
 in the county politics, the requirements of
 
 TWO SIDES OF A QUESTION. 207 
 
 the estate, and the necessities of the parish ; 
 but Alvar, it must be confessed, was very 
 provoking. He was always courteous, but 
 he never exerted his mind to take in any- 
 thing that was strange to him, and would 
 say, with a shrug of his shoulders and a 
 smile, " Ah, these are the things that I do 
 not understand; '' or, as he picked up the 
 current expressions, " It is not in my line 
 to interest myself for the people," with a 
 naivete that refused to recognize any duty 
 one way or the other. In short, he was 
 quite as impervious as his brothers to any- 
 thing "out of his line," and, like Mr. 
 Lester himself, thought that what he did 
 not understand was immaterial. 
 
 Mr. Lester was in despair ; but when he 
 saw Alvar and Virginia together, and 
 noticed their mutual attraction, it occurred 
 to him that an English wife would be the one 
 remedy for Alvar' s shortcomings ; and he 
 also reflected, with some pride in his know- 
 ledge of foreign customs, that Alvar would 
 probably require parental sanction before 
 presuming to pay his addresses to any lady.
 
 208 AN ENGLISH SQUIRE. 
 
 As for Virginia, tliougli slie was of 
 Seyton blood, all lier training had been 
 away from lier family ; her fortune was not 
 inconsiderable, and she herself, enthusiastic, 
 refined, and high-minded, was exactly the 
 type of woman in which Mr. Lester 
 believed. Besides, since he could not 
 make Alvar other than the heir of Oakby, 
 his one wish was that his grandchildren at 
 least should be English. He was very 
 reluctant that Alvar should return to Spain, 
 and at the same time hardly wished him to 
 be a permanent inmate of Oakby. It had 
 been arranged that Alvar should pay a 
 short visit to the Cheritons before Easter, 
 when he would see what London was like, 
 go to see Cherry at Oxford, and having 
 thus enlarged his experiences, would return 
 to Oakby for Easter and the early part of 
 the summer. 
 
 After Cheriton had taken his degree, he 
 too would enjoy a taste of the season, and 
 Alvar might go to town again if he liked ; 
 while in August Alvar must be introduced 
 to the grouse, and might also see the fine
 
 TWO SIDES OB' A QUESTION. 209 
 
 scenery of the Scotcli and Englisli lakes. 
 These were plans in wliicli Alvar could 
 find nothing to complain of ; but they 
 would be greatly improved in his father's 
 eyes if they could end in a suitable and 
 happy marriage ; for he saw that Alvar 
 could not remain idle at Oakby for long, 
 and had the firmest conviction that he 
 would get into mischief, if he set up for 
 himself in London. His mind, when he 
 met Rupert, was full of the subject, and 
 wdth a view to obtaining a side light or 
 two if possible, he asked him casually what 
 he thought of his cousin Alvar, and how 
 they got on together. 
 
 " I don't think he is half a bad fellow," 
 said Rupert, '' a little stiff* and foreign, 
 of course, but a very good sort in my 
 opinion." 
 
 This was well meant on Rupert's part, 
 for he did not personally lilce Alvar, but he 
 had tact enough to see the necessity of 
 harmony, and family feeling enough to 
 wish to produce it. 
 
 " Of course," said Mr. Lester, '' you can 
 VOL. I. p
 
 210 AN ENGLISH SQUIRE. 
 
 understand that I have been anxious about 
 his coming here among the boys.'' 
 
 " I don't think he'll do them any harm, 
 sir." 
 
 " No ; and except Cherry, they don't 
 take to him very warmly ; but I hope we 
 may see him settle into an Englishman in 
 time. A good wife now — " 
 
 " Is a very good tiling, uncle," said 
 Rupert, with a conscious laugh. 
 
 " Yes, Rupert, in a year or two's time 
 you'll be looking out for yourself." 
 
 Rupert liked his uncle, as he had always 
 called him, and, for a moment, was half- 
 inclined to confide in him ; but he knew 
 that Mr. Lester's good offices would be so 
 exceedingly energetic, and would involve 
 such thorough openness on his own part, 
 that though his marriage to Ruth might 
 possibly be expedited by tliem, he could 
 not face the reproofs by which they would 
 be accompanied. 
 
 So he laughed, and shook his head, 
 saying, "Excellent advice for Alvar, sir; 
 and see, there he comes."
 
 TWO SIDES OF A QUESTION. 211 
 
 Alvar approached his father with a bow ; 
 but was about to join Rupert, as he turned 
 off by another path, when Mr. Lester 
 detained him. 
 
 " I should hke a word or two with you," 
 he said, as they walked on. " I think — 
 it appears to me that you are beginning 
 to feel more at home with us than at 
 first." 
 
 " Yes, sir, I know better how to suit 
 myself to you." 
 
 " I am uncommonly glad of it. But 
 what I meant to say was — you don't find 
 yourself so dull as at first?" said Mr. 
 Lester rather awkwardly. 
 
 '' It is a little dall," said Alvar, ''but I 
 can well endure it." 
 
 This was not precisely the answer which 
 Mr. Lester had expected; but after a 
 pause, he went on, — 
 
 '* It would be hard to blame you be- 
 cause you do not take kindly to interests 
 and occupations that are so new to you. 
 I do not feel, Alvar, that I have the same 
 right to dictate your way of life as I should 
 p 2
 
 212 AN ENGLISH SQUIRE. 
 
 have, if I liad earlier assumed the cliarge of 
 you; but I would remind jou that since 
 one day you must be master here, it will 
 be for your own happiness to — to accustom 
 yourself to the life required of you." 
 
 " My brother ought to be the squire,'* 
 said Alvar. 
 
 " That is impossible. It is not a matter 
 of choice ; but it would cause me great 
 unhappiness if I thought my successor 
 would either be constantly absent or — or 
 indifferent to the welfare of the people 
 about him." 
 
 " You would wish me," said Alvar, '' to 
 live in England, and to marry an English 
 lady." 
 
 " Why, yes — yes. Not of course that I 
 would wish to put any restraint on your 
 inclinations, or even to suggest any line of 
 conduct; but it had occurred to me that 
 — in short, that you find Elderthwaite 
 attractive, and I wished to tell you that 
 such a choice would have my entire ap- 
 proval." 
 
 Mr. Lester's florid face coloured with a 
 sense of embarrassment ; he was never at
 
 TWO SIDES OF A QUESTION. 213 
 
 his ease with his son, whereas Alvar only 
 looked considerate, and said thoughtfully, — 
 
 '' Miss Seyton is a charming young 
 lady." 
 
 «« Very much so, indeed," said the 
 squire ; '' and a very good girl." 
 
 Alvar walked on in silence. Probably 
 the idea was not strange to him ; but his 
 father could not trace the workings of his 
 mind, and a sense of intense impatience 
 possessed him with this strange creature 
 whose interests he was bound to consult, 
 but whose nature he could not fathom. 
 
 Suddenly ^Ivar stopped. 
 
 "My father, I have chosen. This is 
 my country, and Miss Seyton — if she will 
 — shall be my wife." 
 
 " Well, Alvar, I'm very glad to hear it," 
 said his father, '' very glad indeed, and 
 I'm sure Cheriton will be delighted. Don't, 
 however, act in a hurry ; I'll leave you to 
 think it over. I see James Wilson, and 
 I want to speak to him." 
 
 •And Mr. Lester called to one of the 
 keepers who was coming across the park, 
 while Alvar went on towards the house.
 
 214 AN ENGLISH SQUIEE. 
 
 CHAPTER XIV, 
 
 Virginia's choice. 
 
 Things that I know not of, belike to thee are dear." 
 
 There was the shadow of such a thought 
 on the blushing face of Virginia Seyton as 
 she sat in a great chair in the old drawing- 
 room at Elderthwaite and listened to the 
 wooing of Alvar Lester. She held a bouquet 
 on her lap, and he stood, bending forward, 
 and addressing her in language that was 
 checked by no embarrassment, and with a 
 simplicity of purpose which had sought 
 no disguise. Alvar had reflected on his 
 father's hints over many a cigarette, he 
 had thought to himself that he was resolved 
 to be an Englishman, that Miss Seyton 
 was charming and attractive beyond all
 
 vieginia's choice. 215 
 
 otlier ladies, it was well that lie should 
 marry, and he would be faithful, courteous, 
 and kind. 
 
 Assuredly he was prepared to love her, 
 she made England pleasant to him, and he 
 had no strong ties to the turbulent life of 
 Spain, from which his peculiar circum- 
 stances and his natural indolence had alike 
 held him aloof. He had no thought of 
 giving less than was Virginia's due, it was 
 a simple matter to him enough, and he 
 had come away that morning, with no 
 false shame as to his intentions, with a 
 flower in his coat and flowers in his hand, 
 and had demanded Miss Seyton's permis- 
 sion to see her niece, heedless how far 
 both households might guess at the matter 
 in hand. 
 
 With his dark, manly grace, and tender 
 accents, he was the picture of a lover, as 
 she, with her creamy skin rose-tinted, and 
 her fervent eyes cast down, seemed the 
 very type of a maiden wooed, and by a 
 favoured suitor. But if the hearts of this 
 graceful and well-matched pair beat to the
 
 216 AN ENGIJSH SQUIRE. 
 
 same tune, the notes for each had very 
 different force, and the experiences and 
 the requirements of each had been, and 
 must be, utterly unlike those of the other. 
 
 Alvar recognized this, in its obvious 
 outer fact, when he began^ — 
 
 " I have a great disadvantage," he said, 
 " since I do not know how best to please 
 an Enghsh lady when I pay her my 
 addresses. Yet I am bold, for I come 
 to-day to ask you to forget I am a stranger, 
 and to help me to become truly an English- 
 man. Of all ladies, you are to me the 
 most beautiful, the most beloved. Can 
 you grant my wish — my prayer ? Can I 
 have the happiness to please you — Vir- 
 ginia ? " 
 
 Virginia's heart beat so fast that she 
 could not speak, the large eyes flashed up 
 for a moment into his, then dropped as the 
 tears dimmed them. 
 
 " Ah ! do I make you shed tears ? " 
 cried Alvar. '' How shall I tell you how I 
 will be your slave ? Mi dofia, mi reyna ! 
 — nay, I must find English words to say
 
 vieginta's choice. 217 
 
 you are the queen of my life! " and he knelt 
 on one knee beside her, and took her hand. 
 
 Perhaps it was all the more enchanting 
 that it was unlike a modern English girl's 
 ideal of a likely lover. 
 
 "Please don't do that," said Virginia, 
 controlling her emotion with a great effort. 
 '' I want to say something, if you would 
 sit down." 
 
 With ready tact Alvar rose at once, and 
 drew a chair near her. 
 
 '' It is my privilege to listen," he said. 
 
 " It is that I am afraid I must be very 
 different from the girls whom you have 
 known. My ways, my thoughts, you 
 might not like them ; you might wish me 
 to be different from myself — or I might 
 not understand you," she added very 
 timidly. 
 
 " In asking a lady to be my wife, I think 
 of no other woman," said Alvar. " In my 
 eyes you are all that is charming." 
 
 " This would not have occurred to me," 
 said Virginia ; '* but since I came home I 
 have not been very happy, because it is so
 
 218 AN ENGLISH SQUIRE. 
 
 hard to accommodate oneself to people 
 who think of everytlnng differently from 
 oneself. If that was so with us — with 
 
 you-" 
 
 '' My thoughts shall be your thoughts," 
 said Alvar. '' You shall teach me to be 
 what you wish — what my brother is. I 
 know well," and he rose to his feet again 
 and stood before her, " I am not clever, I 
 do not know how to do those things the 
 English admire ; my face, my speech, is 
 strange. Is that my fault ; is it my fault 
 that my father has hated and shunned his 
 son? Miss Seyton, I can but offer you 
 myself. If I displease you — " 
 
 Alvar paused. Virginia had been plead- 
 ing against herself, and before his powerful 
 attraction her misgivings] melted awav. 
 She rose too, and came a step towards 
 him. 
 
 " I will trust you," she said ; and Alvar, 
 more moved than he could himself have 
 anticipated, poured forth a torrent of 
 loving words and vows to be, and to do all 
 she could wish. But he did not know, he
 
 Virginia's choice. 219 
 
 did not understand, wliat she asked of 
 him, or what he promised. 
 
 *' But we must be our true selves to 
 each other," she said afterwards, as they 
 stood together, when he had won her to 
 tell him that his foreign face and tones 
 were not displeasing to her — not at all. 
 JSTo, she did not wish that he was more 
 like his brothers. 
 
 *' I will be always your true lover and 
 your slave," said Alvar, kissing the hand 
 that she had laid on his. " And now must 
 I not present myself to your father ? He 
 will not, I hope, think the foreigner too 
 presuming." 
 
 " There is papa," said Virginia, glancing 
 out of the window ; ''he is walking on the 
 terrace. Look, you can go out by this 
 glass door." And leaving Alvar to en- 
 counter this far from formidable interview, 
 she ran away up to the little oak room in 
 search of her cousin. 
 
 There were tears in Ruth's great velvety 
 eyes as she turned to meet her, but she 
 was smiling, too, and even while she held
 
 220 AN ENGLISH SQUIRE. 
 
 out lier arms to Virginia, she thouglit — 
 '' What, jealous of the smooth course of 
 her Httle childish love ! I would not give 
 up one atom of what I feel for all the easy 
 consent and prosperity in the world." 
 But none the less was she interested and 
 sympathetic as she listened to the out- 
 pourings of Virginia's first excitement, and 
 to the recital of feelings that were like, 
 and yet unlike, her own. 
 
 " You see, Ruthie, I could not help 
 caring about him, he was so gentle and 
 kind, and he never seemed angry with the 
 others for misunderstanding him. But 
 then I thought that our lives had been so 
 wide apart that he might be quite dif- 
 ferent from what he seemed; and one 
 has always heard, too, that foreigners pay 
 compliments, and don't mean what they 
 say." 
 
 '' I should have despised you, Queenie, if 
 you had thrown over the man you love 
 because he was half a foreigner." 
 
 '' Oh, no, not for that. But I didn't— I 
 hadn't begun to — like him very much then,
 
 Virginia's choice. 221 
 
 you see, Rutli. And if he liad not been 
 good — ' 
 
 "And liow have you satisfied yourself 
 that he is what you call ' good ' now ? " 
 said Ruth curiously. 
 
 "Of course," replied Virginia, " it is not 
 as if he had been brought up in England. He 
 cannot have the same notions. But then he 
 cannot talk enough of Cherry's goodness, 
 and seemed so grateful because he was kind 
 to him. Cherry is a very good, kind sort 
 of fellow of course ; but don't you think 
 there is something beautiful in the humility 
 that makes so much of a little kind- 
 ness, and recognizes good qualities so un- 
 grudgingly ? " 
 
 Ruth laughed a little. Perhaps she 
 thought Alvar's " bonny black eyes " had 
 something to do with the force of these 
 arguments. 
 
 " Since you love each other," she said, 
 " that is a proof that you are intended for 
 each other. What does it matter ' what he 
 is like,' as you say ? " 
 
 "But 'what he is like' made all the
 
 222 AN ENGLISH SQUIRE. ' 
 
 difference in the first instance, I suppose ? " 
 said Virginia. 
 
 " Perhaps," said Ruth, with a Httle shrug. 
 " But now you have once chosen, Virginia, 
 nothing ought to make you change, not if 
 he were ever so wicked — not if he were a 
 murderer ! " 
 
 " Ruth," exclaimed Virginia, " how can 
 you be so absurd ! A murderer ! " 
 
 *' A murderer, a gambler, or a — well, I'm 
 not quite sure about a thief," said Ruth, 
 cooling down a httle ; and then the girls 
 both laughed, and Virginia sank into a 
 dreamy silence. She did not even yet 
 know the story of her mother's married life, 
 or she could not have laughed at the thought 
 of a gambler for her husband ; but she did 
 know enough of her family history to give 
 definiteness to the natural desire of a high- 
 principled girl to find perfection in her lover. 
 Virginia's nature inclined to hero-worship; 
 reverence was a necessary part to her of 
 a happy love. She had thought often to 
 herself that she would never marry a man of 
 whose good principles she was not satisfied.
 
 • Virginia's choice. 223 
 
 And since Alvar's offer had not entirely 
 taken her by surprise — his gallantry haying 
 been tenderer than he knew — she had con- 
 sidered the point with an effort at im- 
 partiality, and had justified the conclusion 
 to which her heart pointed by Alvar's 
 admiration for the brother, whom, in 
 Virginia's opinion, he idealized considerably. 
 Of course, if she had chosen wisely, it was 
 instinct, and not knowledge, that led her 
 aright. She knew absolutely nothing of 
 Alvar ; and just as from insufficient grounds 
 she now gave him credit for many virtues, 
 it might be that, when the differing natures 
 jarred, a little failure, a little defectiveness, 
 might make her judgment cruelly hard, at 
 whatever cost to her own happiness. 
 
 It might come to a struggle between the 
 girl's ideal and the woman's love- — and in 
 such a struggle compromises and forgive- 
 nesses and new knowledge on either side 
 Avould lead to final comprehension and 
 peace. But it comes sometimes to a fight 
 between heart and soul, between the higher 
 self and the love that seems stronger than
 
 224 AN ENGLISH SQUIRE. 
 
 self. To this extremity Alvar Lester was 
 not likely to drive any woman; but im- 
 patience and inexperience sometimes mis- 
 take the one contest for the other. Vir- 
 ginia would have something to bear, he 
 much to learn, before mutual criticism 
 ceased, as they became indeed part of each 
 other's existence, before Virginia's flutter 
 of startled joy subsided into unquestioning 
 content. 
 
 " You talk, Ruthie," exclaimed Virginia, 
 after a little more confidential chatter, '' but 
 you cannot make up your own mind. You 
 cannot decide whether you will have poor 
 Captain Lester." 
 
 " Hark ! hark ! " cried Ruth, '' they are 
 calHng you ! Every one is not so lucky as 
 you." And as Virginia obeyed her father's 
 summons, and she was left alone, she pulled 
 out the locket that contained Rupert's 
 portrait, kissed it passionately, and ex- 
 claimed, half-aloud, — 
 
 '' Not make up my mind ! Do / doubt 
 and hesitate ? What do I care ' what you 
 are like,' my darling ? I love you with all
 
 Virginia's choice. 225 
 
 my heart and soul ! I love yon — I love 
 you ! Wliat would life be without love? " 
 
 The congratulations of Virginia's family 
 on the occasion were characteristic. Her 
 father had but a nominal consent to give. 
 Virginia was of age, and besides, the trus- 
 tees of her fortune could not of course take 
 any exception to such an engagement ; but 
 he rejoiced exceedingly, as at the first good 
 and happy thing that had happened in his 
 family for long enough. 
 
 *' And so you have got a husband, though 
 you are a Seyton ? " said her aunt. '' Well, 
 Roland's a long way off, and I don't suppose 
 Dick and Harry can create scandal enough 
 to put an end to it before next October." 
 
 " But you'll give me a kiss, auntie ? " said 
 Virginia ; and in the warmth of her embrace 
 she tried to show the sympathy for that 
 long past wrong which she never would have 
 dared to utter. 
 
 Miss Seyton was silent for a moment, and 
 patted her soft hair; then suddenly, with 
 an expression indescribably malin and 
 elfish, she said, ''And all those poor little 
 
 VOL. I. Q
 
 226 AN ENGLISH SQUIRE. 
 
 neglected children, whose souls yon were 
 going to save, what will become of them 
 when yon are married ? Do yon think your 
 nncle will teach them himself ? " 
 
 " And I shouldn't be surprised if he 
 did, Aunt Julia," interposed Ruth briskly, 
 " now Virginia has shown him the way." 
 
 Parson Seyton's remark was somewhat 
 to the same effect, though made in a more 
 genial spirit. 
 
 ''Well, my lass, so youVe caught the 
 Frenchman? Why didn't you set your 
 cap at Cherry ? He's worth a dozen of 
 him." 
 
 " Cherry didn't set his cap at me, nncle," 
 said Virginia, laughing. 
 
 " And all the little lads and lasses ? Ha, 
 ha, I must set about learning the cate- 
 chism myself. What's to be done, my 
 queen ? — what's to be done ? Send away 
 Monsieur Alvar ; we can't do without you." 
 
 Virginia had not forgotten the children ; 
 but as her marriage was not to take place 
 till the late autumn, there was no imme- 
 diate question of her leaving them.
 
 Virginia's choice. 227 
 
 Mr. Lester tliouglit that it would be 
 far better that Alvar should see something 
 of England before his marriage, and Alvar 
 acquiesced readily in his father's wish; 
 and he very shortly left Oakby for London, 
 after receiving congratulations from his 
 brothers, in which astonishment was the 
 prevaihng ingredient, though Cheriton soft- 
 ened his surprise with many expressions of 
 satisfaction. 
 
 He was glad that Alvar had chosen an 
 English wife ; still more glad that he had 
 no disposition to choose Euth. 
 
 Q 2
 
 228 AN ENGLISH SQUIRE. 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 A BIT OF THE BLARNEY. 
 
 " With him there rode his sone, a younge squire, 
 A lovyere and a lusty bachelere." 
 
 In tliat year Easter fell very late, and it 
 was nearly the end of April before the 
 Lesters gathered together once more at 
 Oakby. Alvar and Virginia had hardly 
 had time to grow accustomed to their new 
 relations to each other before the former 
 went to London, where he perhaps adapted 
 himself more easily to his surroundings 
 than he would have done in the presence 
 of his father and brothers. He found that 
 all English people did not regard life pre- 
 cisely from the Oakby point of view ; that 
 Lady C her i ton greatly regretted that Net- 
 tie was such a tomboy, and almost feared
 
 A BIT OF THE BLAENEY. 229 
 
 that Bob would never be fit for polite 
 society. 
 
 He was introduced to people wlio tliouglit 
 liis music encbanting and his foreign man- 
 ners charming; he was allowed to be on 
 cousinly terms with the Miss Cheritons, 
 and was an object of exciting interest to 
 every young lady who met him. Under 
 these circumstances he was very well con- 
 tent, and despatched graceful and tender 
 letters to Virginia, which often had an 
 amusing naivete in their details of his im- 
 pressions of English life. He also sent 
 her various offerings, ornaments, sweet- 
 meats, and flowers, always prettily chosen, 
 and commended to her notice by some 
 pleasant bit of tender flattery. His en- 
 gagement was of course generally known, 
 but his soft words and softer looks, though 
 too universal to be delusive, were doubtless 
 none the less attractive from the fact that 
 his foreign breeding offered a constant 
 cause and excuse for them. 
 
 Virginia, on her side, it need hardly 
 be said, wrote him many letters, full of
 
 230 AN ENGLISH SQUIRE. 
 
 tliouglits, feelings, and liopes, and some- 
 times requests for his opinion on any sub- 
 ject tliat interested lier. Alvar's replies 
 were so charming, so flattering, and so 
 tender, that she hardly found out that 
 they were in no sense ansivers to her 
 own. 
 
 He made a very great point of going to 
 Oxford, and was full of excitement at the 
 prospect of meeting '' my brother " again. 
 Cheriton, however, had lost some time by 
 his idle Christmas vacation, and was forced 
 to work very hard to make up for it. He 
 had always too many interests in life to 
 make it easy to concentrate all his efforts 
 in one direction ; but now the ambition and 
 love of distinction that were a constant 
 stimulus to the idle Lester nature in him- 
 self and Jack were fairly alight. 
 
 Cheriton cared for success in itself ; he 
 was too sweet -natured to resent failure, 
 and conscientious enough to know that 
 his love of triumph might be a snare to 
 him, but each object in its turn seemed to 
 him intensely desirable. He could not feel,
 
 A BIT OP THE BLARNEY. 231 
 
 and even prevailing fashion made it diffi- 
 cult for him to affect, indifference. Besides, 
 he wanted to appear in the light of a young 
 man likely to succeed in life before Euth's 
 relations. So he wrote that he hoped 
 Alvar would not think it unkind if he 
 asked him to pay him only a short visit ; 
 and Alvar was half consoled by hearing the 
 Judge speak in high terms of his nephew 
 as a brilliant young man and likely to do 
 them all credit. 
 
 " Ah," said Alvar, '' I fear I should have 
 done my name no credit if I, like my 
 brother, had gone to Oxford." 
 
 " You are an eldest son, my dear fel- 
 low, and I don't doubt that you would have 
 kept up the family traditions," said Judge 
 Cheriton drily. 
 
 So Alvar went for one day to Oxford, 
 where he showed an overpowering delight 
 at seeing Cherry again, and a reprehen- 
 sible preference for pouring out to him his 
 various experiences, to inspecting chapels 
 and halls. He greeted Buffer respectfully, 
 nd taxed Cheriton with overworking him-
 
 232 AN ENGLISH SQUIRE. 
 
 self. He looked pale, lie said, and tliin — 
 not as lie did at Oakby. 
 
 Cherry only laughed at him, but insisted 
 emphatically that he should say no word at 
 home of any such impression, as perhaps 
 he should stay up and read during the 
 Easter vacation. 
 
 ''But what shall I do," said Alvar, 
 " when the boys, who do not like me, come 
 home, and you are not there ? " 
 
 " You — why, you will be all day at 
 Elderthwaite." 
 
 " I shall never forget my brother who 
 was kind to me first," said Alvar earnestly. 
 
 Alvar finished up his London career by 
 going to see the Boat Race, where he was 
 exceedingly particular to appear in Oxford 
 colours, and felt as if the triumph of the 
 dark blue was Cherry's own. 
 
 Easter week brought unwontedly soft 
 airs and blue skies to Oakby, and, after all, 
 Cheriton himself for a few days' holiday. 
 Every one rejoiced at the sight of him, 
 though Jack promptly told him that he was 
 very foolish to waste time by coming, and
 
 A BIT OF THE BLARNEY. 233 
 
 when Cherry owned that he wanted a Httle 
 rest, grudgingly admitted that he might be 
 wise to take it ; then seized upon him, first 
 to discuss with him the work he himself 
 was doing with a view to a scholarship for 
 which he meant to compete at Midsummer; 
 then demanded an immediate settlement, 
 from Cherry's point of view, of several 
 important and obscure philosophical ques- 
 tions ; and finally confided to him a long 
 history of Bob's scrapes and deficiencies 
 during the past term. 
 
 He was so low in the school — he got in 
 with such a bad lot — he ought to leave 
 school and go to a tutor's. He, Jack, had 
 told him he was going straight to the bad, 
 but had done no good. AYould Cherry 
 give him a good blowing-up ? Then Mr. 
 Lester, having had a letter from the head- 
 master, wanted to consult him on this very 
 point, as well as to tell him all the story 
 of Alvar's courtship and his own diplomatic 
 behaviour. Also to regret that Alvar 
 would not take the trouble to understand 
 the details of English law as applied to
 
 234 AN ENGLISH SQUIRE. 
 
 local matters ; could not see why Mr. 
 Lester, as a magistrate, was prevented 
 from transporting a poacher for life, or 
 why, as an owner of land, he thought it 
 necessary to be so particular as to the 
 character of his tenants. Then an attempt 
 at peacemaking with and for Bob, which 
 resulted in little more than a persistent 
 growl " that Jack was an awful duffer." 
 
 Altogether the family did not seem in a 
 restful state. Mrs. Lester was very in- 
 dignant because Mrs. Ellesmere had 
 observed that ISTettie was growing too tall 
 a girl to go about so much by herself. 
 " Who was there that did not know Nettie 
 in all the country-side P " While Bob and 
 Nettie themselves, who usually hung to- 
 gether in everything, especially when either 
 was in trouble, had an inexplicable quarrel, 
 which made neither of them pleasant com- 
 pany for their elders. 
 
 Then Mr. Lester's affairs came forward 
 again in the shape of a dispute with one 
 of his chief farmers about a certain gate 
 which had been planted in the wrong place,
 
 A BIT. OF THE BLAENEY. 235 
 
 involving a question of boundaries and 
 rights of way, and engaging Mr. Lester in 
 a difference of opinion with a new neigh- 
 bour, '' a Radical fellow from Sheffield," 
 whom Mr. Lester would neither have 
 injured nor been intimate with for the 
 world. Alvar had the misfortune to 
 observe that " he thought it was not worth 
 while to be so distressed about the post of 
 a gate," an indifference even more pro- 
 voking than the misplaced ardour of Jack, 
 who had taken upon himself to examine 
 the matter, and believing his father mis- 
 taken, thought it necessary to say so, which 
 might have been passed over as a piece of 
 youthful folly, if there had not been a 
 frightful suspicion that Mr. Ellesmere was 
 of the same opinion. 
 
 Cherry had heard enough of the '' post 
 of a gate" by the time he had read half- 
 a-dozen letters of polite indignation, and 
 listened to an hour's explanation from 
 his father of the grounds of the dispute, 
 after which he was requested to form an 
 independent opinion on the subject.
 
 236 AN ENGLISH SQUIRE. 
 
 " Well, fatlier," lie said, looking askance 
 at a plan of the scene of action wliicli Mr. 
 Lester had drawn for liis benefit, '' it seems 
 that the removal of this gate has mixed up 
 Ashrigg, Oakby, and Elder th wait e to such 
 a degree that we sha'n't know who is living 
 in which. Of course Alvar canH see any 
 boundaries between Oakby and Elder- 
 thwaite just now. How should he ? His 
 imagination leaps over them at once. But 
 I dont think it will ' precipitate the down- 
 fall of the landed gentry,' Jack, whichever 
 way it is settled." And having thus 
 succeeded in making his father and Alvar 
 laugh, and Jack remark " that he never 
 could see the use of making a joke of every- 
 thing," he asked Mr. Lester to come and 
 show him the fatal spot. Couldn't they 
 ride over and look at it ? 
 
 '' And I have never seen you yet," said 
 Alvar reproachfully, when Mr. Lester had 
 acceded to this arrangement. 
 
 ' ' But you are going to Elderthwaite ? 
 I will come and meet you there. And, 
 look here, the weather is so fine I am sure
 
 A BIT OF THE BLARNEY. 237 
 
 we might all join forces and make an 
 excursion somewhere. Wouldn't that be 
 blissful?" 
 
 "Ah, you make sport of me!" said 
 Alvar ; but he promised to propose the 
 plan at Elderthwaite. 
 
 So Cheriton and his father rode through 
 the bright spring lanes together, like 
 Chaucer's knight and squire, with the 
 larks singing in the furrows, and the blue 
 sky overhead, the sunshine full of promise 
 and joy, even in the wild, bleak country, 
 whose time of perfection never came till 
 the purple heather clothed the bare moor- 
 lands and the summer months had had 
 time to chase away all thought of the long, 
 dreary winter. Every breath of the air of 
 the hill-side was like new life to Cherry. 
 
 "It is so delightful to be at home," he 
 said; "it's impossible to be very angry 
 about ' the post of a gate.' " 
 
 Perha^is this happy humour contributed 
 no small share towards the harmonious 
 ending, of the scene which Cherry de- 
 scribed quaintly enough when he presented
 
 238 AN ENGLISH SQUIRE. 
 
 himself at Elderthwaite in the afternoon. 
 How on arrivino* at the scene of action 
 thej had found Farmer Fleming and the 
 fellow from Sheffield both eno-ag^ed in dis- 
 cussing the point; how Mr. Wilson had 
 expressed his readiness to put up two gates 
 if that would settle the matter, but he 
 could not be dictated to on his own land ; 
 how Mr. Fleming's view of the matter 
 seemed to consist in a constant statement 
 of the fact that he had been the squire's 
 tenant all his hfe, and his father before 
 him ; how the squire had remarked that 
 Mr. Fleming's father, he was sure, would 
 have known well that those four feet of 
 land were common land, and half in Oakby 
 and half in Ashrigg parish, Elderthwaite 
 bordering them on the south, and that he, 
 as Lord of the Manor, could not allow 
 them to be enclosed; Mr. Wilson had 
 purchased certain manorial rights in 
 Ashrigg parish; they certainly extended 
 over the two feet on his own side of 
 the lane. 
 
 Then Cherry had remembered Mr.
 
 A BIT OF THE BLARNEY. 239 
 
 Wilson's son at Oxford, and knew that 
 last year he had taken a first. He had met 
 him at breakfast ; was he coming down 
 soon ? This had created a diversion ; and 
 while the squire and his tenant were at it 
 hammer and tongs, Cherry had received 
 several invitations, had warmly applauded 
 Mr. Wilson's remark that he did not wish 
 to be unpleasant to old inhabitants on first 
 coming into the county, and the squire, 
 having got his own way with the farmer, 
 an amicable arrangement was arrived at; 
 while Cherry went to see Mrs. Fleming's 
 dairy, " because he remembered how she 
 used to give him such beautiful new milk." 
 
 " Oh, Cherry, you have more than a bit 
 of the blarney," said Ruth. '' Haven't you 
 a drop of Irish blood somewhere ? " 
 
 " No more than Jack," said Cherry, who 
 was perhaps a httle pleased at his diplo- 
 macy. " I like to smooth things down, 
 unless, to be sure, one is angry oneself." 
 
 ''You are always the peacemaker," said 
 Alvar. 
 
 " Ah, not always, I am afraid ! But now
 
 240 AN ENGLISH SQUIRE. 
 
 I want all the blarney I can muster to per- 
 suade you that it is warm enough to go and 
 spend the day at Black Tarn. We might 
 go by train from Hazelby to Blackrigg; 
 have lunch at the inn there, and go up to 
 Black Tarn by the Otter's Glen. I asked 
 Mr. and Mrs. Ellesmere, and they will come 
 with us" — to Virginia — " I assure you Alvar 
 agrees." 
 
 '' You are wasting your blarney," said 
 Virginia smiling, ''for we had agreed to 
 go before you came. It will be very cold 
 up at Black Tarn, but that will not signify 
 if we take plenty of wraps." 
 
 Such a genuine piece of natural and in- 
 nocent amusement was quite a novelty at 
 Elderthwaite, and the boys were delighted. 
 The party agreed to meet at Hazelby 
 station, and go by train some ten or twelve 
 miles towards the mountains on the out- 
 skirts of which Black Tarn lay. There 
 was a train in the evening by which they 
 could return, and no one left at home was 
 to be anxious about them until they saw 
 them coming back.
 
 241 
 
 CHAPTER XYI. 
 
 THE otter's glen. 
 
 *' An empty sky, a world of heather, 
 Purple of foxglove, yellow of broom, 
 We two among them, wading together, 
 Stepping out honey, treading perfume." 
 
 TiiERK was hardly a lonelier spot in all the 
 country round than the little Black Tarn. 
 The hill in which it lay possessed neither 
 the rocky grandeur nor the fertile beauty 
 of the neighbouring mountains ; it was 
 covered with grass and bog, not a tree 
 relieved its desolateness, no grey rocks 
 pushed their picturesque heads through 
 the soil and gave variety to its shape. 
 The approach to the little lake was defended 
 by great beds of reeds and rushes, its 
 waters were shallow, and later in the year 
 
 VOL. I. E
 
 242 AN ENGLISH SQUIRE. 
 
 full of weeds and water-lilies. But there 
 was a fine view of tlie lieathery backs of 
 some of the more important mountains, and 
 the stream that rushed down the Otter's 
 Glen was broad and clear, and had been the 
 scene of many an exciting chase in grey 
 misty mornings. 
 
 To-day the sun was bright and strong, 
 the fresh mountain wind intensely exhila- 
 rating, and the whole party were in the 
 highest spirits and ready to enjoy every 
 incident of their excursion. They had had 
 their lunch, as j)roposed, at the Httle way- 
 side inn, where the Lesters were well 
 known and always welcome, and had then 
 set off on their three-miles walk to the tarn 
 in scattered groups, all at their own pace 
 and with different views of the distances 
 they meant to effect. 
 
 A large division, headed by Mr. Elles- 
 mere, had started off at a brisk pace, 
 intending to get to the to]) of the hill and 
 see half over the country, but stragglers 
 began to drop behind. 
 
 Mrs. Ellesmere thought the tarn would
 
 THE otter's glen. 243 
 
 be enoiigli for herself and lier younger 
 children ; every one dropped off from Alvar 
 and Virgmia, and left them to their own 
 devices, while Cherry set himself to per- 
 suade E/uth that the best thing to do was 
 to follow the stream, step by step, along 
 its winding course, heedless of the end. 
 
 He could hardly believe in his own good 
 luck as the voices of the others died away 
 in the distance, and Rnth put her hand into 
 his to be helped along the slippery stepping- 
 stones planted here and there on the marshy 
 path-way. 
 
 Whatever was missing for Ruth in the 
 perfection of the day's pleasure, her great 
 dark eyes were bright and soft, and a little 
 flush on her brown cheeks gave her an 
 additional beauty. She wore a small 
 closely-fitting hat with a red plume in it, 
 and a tight dark dress ; and thus, with her 
 hand in his, and her bewitching eyes raised 
 to his face, her image recurred to him in 
 after days. 
 
 He had been laughing, and talking, and 
 managing the expedition, but now alone 
 R 2
 
 244 AN ENGLISH SQUIEE. 
 
 with lier lie fell silent, and tliere was 
 tliat in his face as he looked down at her 
 that frightened Ruth a little. 
 
 During these past months he had grown 
 less *' boyish," and it crossed Ruth's mind 
 to wonder if he had had any special pur- 
 pose in getting her to himself. 
 
 '^ And have you been working very 
 hard ? " she said, smiling at him. 
 
 *' Pretty well," answered Cherry. '^ I 
 shall be glad when it's all over." 
 
 ''Won't they ring all the bells at 
 Oakby?" 
 
 Cherry laughed. 
 
 " I hope they won't have occasion to toll 
 them," he said ; " it seems sometimes much 
 more likely." 
 
 " Ah ! that is because you get out of 
 spirits. And after all, who cares except a 
 lot of stupid old tutors ? " 
 
 " I don't suppose you — any one, would 
 care much." 
 
 ''Why," said Ruth dexterously; "who 
 judges a man by the result of an examina- 
 tion ? that would be very unfair."
 
 THE otter's glen. 245 
 
 " Then," said Cherry shyly, " if I come 
 to grief I shall go to you for — for consola- 
 tion. You won't despise me ? " 
 
 " Oh, Cherry ! I am sure when one 
 knows life one sees that after all those 
 tests are rather childish. I should not 
 think less of you if you made a mistake." 
 
 Perhaps it was characteristic of Cheriton 
 that he felt more than ever resolved to 
 attain success, and he answered, — 
 
 " You ought to think less of me if I did 
 not do my best to avoid mistakes." 
 
 " Now that is worthy of Jack, of whom 
 I am becoming quite afraid. I care for my 
 friends because — well, because I care for 
 them, and what they do makes no difference." 
 
 " That," said Cherry, '' is the sort of 
 backing up that would make a man able 
 to endure failure till success came. But 
 still one must wish to bring home the 
 spoils ! " 
 
 There was a dangerous intensity in 
 Cheriton' s accent, and Ruth laughed gaily. 
 
 '' Of course, men are always so am- 
 bitious. Well, I believe in your spoils,
 
 246 AN ENGLISH SQUIRE. 
 
 Cherry, but don't work too hard for them. 
 Don Alvar told Virginia you would knock 
 yourself up." 
 
 " Oh, Alvar ! Hard work is a great 
 puzzle to him. No fear of my working too 
 hard, I get stupefied too quickly, otherwise 
 I should not be here now; but I can't 
 grudge what is so — so delightful. Take 
 care, that is a very slippery stone. Won't 
 you give me your hand ? There, that's a 
 safe one." 
 
 Ruth was not a great adept at scram- 
 bling independently, but she knew how to 
 be helped with wonderful grace and grati- 
 tude. Nor was a solitary ramble with 
 Cheriton at all an unnatural thing. He 
 had helped her up in many a difficult place 
 in their boy-and-girl days, and teased her 
 by pretending that he would not help her 
 down; but now she felt that in more 
 senses than one she was treading on slip- 
 pery ground, and guided the conversation 
 on to the safer topic of Alvar and Virginia. 
 
 *' Weren't you very much surprised," 
 said Cheriton, '' when that came about ? "
 
 THE otter's glen. 247 
 
 "Well, you know," said Eiith, "Vir- 
 ginia is rather transparent. I couldn't 
 help guessing that she was interested in 
 your brother. She is so romantic, too, 
 and he is such a cavalier." 
 
 " I suppose you always study common 
 sense," said Cherry, who preferred greatly 
 to talk about Ruth herself than to discuss 
 Virginia. 
 
 " I have my own ideas of romance," 
 said Ruth ; " but I think I have out-grown 
 the notion that every one ought to look like 
 a hero." 
 
 " And what is your idea of romance ? " 
 asked Cherry, gratified by this remark. 
 
 " Self-devotion," said Ruth briefly, giving 
 up everything for the one object. " That's 
 true romance." 
 
 " Self-sacrifice ? " said Cherry. " That 
 is too hard work to be romantic about." 
 
 " Not for any one — anything one loved," 
 said Ruth very low, but with flushing 
 cheeks. 
 
 " Then," said Cheriton, " there would 
 be no other self left to sacrifice."
 
 248 AN ENGLISH SQUIRE. 
 
 Eutli was startled. Eupert liacl never 
 so answered lier tliouglits, had never given 
 her quite such a look. 
 
 Cherry paused and turned round towards 
 her with a desperate impulse urging him 
 to speak, her face shining with enthusiasm 
 giving him sudden courage. 
 
 ''Ah ! " exclaimed Euth, springing across 
 on to a very unsteady stone, '' you are 
 getting too serious ! I declare, there's a 
 white butterfly, the first for the year. 
 And look — oh, look, Cherry, isn't that bit 
 of gorse pretty against the sky? It's too 
 bad to discuss abstract questions at a 
 picnic on a spring day." 
 
 Cheriton stood still for a moment. He 
 heard the rush of the water, he saw the 
 shine of the sun, his eyes followed the 
 butterfly as it fluttered up to the bit of 
 yellow gorse, he could see Eutli smiling 
 and graceful, beckoning to him to follow 
 her; the glamour and dazzle had passed, 
 and the day was like any other fine day now. 
 
 " I did not mean to discuss abstract 
 questions," he said, with a touch of ofience.
 
 THE OTTER S GLEN. 249 
 
 " All ! but you were getting very deep ! 
 Come, don't be cross, Cherry; you look 
 exactly like Jack at this minute, and you 
 can't make your eyebrows meet, so don't 
 try." 
 
 *' Poor Jack, you are very hard on him," 
 said Cherry, recovering himself. " Will 
 you have a bit of the gorse for your hat, 
 if I cut all the prickles off ? " 
 
 " If you cut all the prickles off, what 
 will you leave ? " said Ruth. 
 
 They had a very charming walk after 
 this, and were much more merry and talka- 
 tive than at first. There was a sense of 
 being baffled deep down in Cherry's heart, 
 but if the rest was surface work it was 
 very enchanting, and they dawdled and 
 chattered till the time slipped away, and 
 they saw their party in the distance coming 
 back from the tarn. 
 
 " Oh, let us run," said Ruth, " and get 
 into the road before them." 
 
 " Come," said Cherry, holding out his 
 hand, and they ran across the short turf, 
 the sweet, keen air blowing in their faces.
 
 250 AN ENGLISH SQUIEE. 
 
 a sort of excitement urging E/utli, who was 
 a lazy little thing usually, to this childish 
 proceeding. 
 
 They came running down into the road 
 just as the whole party came back from 
 the tarn, crying out on them for their 
 laziness. 
 
 " We have been looking for you," said 
 Virginia, whose hat was daintily wreathed 
 with stag moss. '' Alvar and I tried to 
 j&nd you." 
 
 " Oh, yes, you were miserable with- 
 out us of course," said Cherry. "Hallo, 
 Rupert ! where on earth did you spring 
 from?" 
 
 " I came over for a ball at the Moly- 
 neuxes ; they have taken Blackrigg Hall, 
 you know. I must get back by the first 
 thing to-morrow. I heard of your picnic 
 from some of the people about, and came 
 to see if I could fall in with you." 
 
 "You are just in time to come back 
 with us to the inn," said Mr. Ellesmere; 
 " we shall have no more than time to get 
 a cup of tea and be off for the train."
 
 THE otter's glen. 251 
 
 *' I tliought yon would not come," 
 whispered Rutli to Rupert as they all 
 walked back together. 
 
 "So it seemed; what were you doing 
 with Cherry ? " said Rupert sharply. 
 
 Ruth looked at him with reproach in 
 her eyes, but they had no chance then of 
 obtaining private words. Rupert looked 
 savage, but directed his efforts to sitting 
 next her in the omnibus which was to 
 convey most of the party to the station. 
 
 " Don't spoil these few minutes," whis- 
 pered Ruth imploringly as she looked up 
 in his displeased face. " Could I let 
 people guess how I was longing for you ? 
 I thought you would have been here 
 sooner." 
 
 " Cherry is always to the fore," said 
 Rupert with an amount of ill-temper for 
 which Ruth could not quite account. She 
 felt profoundly miserable, so wretched that 
 she could hardly keep the tears out of her 
 eyes. She had looked forward for the last 
 day or two to this poor little meeting as 
 such a light in the darkness, and now
 
 252 AN ENGLISH SQUIRE. 
 
 some one spoke to Rupert and some one 
 else to herself. There was no chance of 
 making it up — if they were to part so ! 
 Oh, it was hard ! Virginia could say as 
 much as she liked to her lover. Then 
 Ruth saw that Alvar was not in the omni- 
 bus, nor Cheriton either, and hoped that 
 the latter fact might assuage Rupert's 
 jealousy. Perhaps he felt ashamed of it, 
 for as they neared Blackrigg she felt his 
 hand clasp hers, and he whispered, " For- 
 give me." 
 
 In the meanwhile Cheriton, having lin- 
 gered a moment to make payments and 
 final arrangements, was left for the '' trap," 
 a very nondescript vehicle, which had 
 brought Bob and Jack from the station. To 
 his surprise he found that Alvar instead of 
 one of the younger ones was his companion. 
 
 " Why, how's this ? " he said. 
 
 '' I thought that I would wait for you. 
 Is it not my turn ? " said Alvar, who some- 
 times liked to claim an equahty with the 
 others. 
 
 ** I'm afraid you'll get wet," said Cherry ;
 
 THE OTTEPv^S GLEN. 253 
 
 " they've all the plaids, and it is going to 
 rain. These mountain showers come up 
 so quickly." 
 
 ** I do not mind the rain," said Alvar. 
 
 Cheriton, however, mindful of Alvar' s 
 short experience of the cold, driving rain 
 of the country, made him put a dilapidated 
 rug that was in the carriage over his 
 shoulders, and drove on as fast as he 
 could, through mist and wind, till about 
 half-way to Blackrigg there was a great 
 jolt, — off came the wheel of the trap, which 
 turned over, and they were both thrown 
 out on to the high bank beside the road. 
 
 Cherry felt Alvar' s arm round him 
 before he had time to get up, and heard 
 him speaking fast in Spanish, and then, 
 *' You are not hurt, my brother ? " 
 
 '' Oh, no — no. Nor you ? That's all 
 right ; but we're in a nice fix. No getting 
 to Blackrigg to-night. Here's the wheel 
 off." 
 
 The bank was soft and muddy ; and they 
 were quite unhurt, and after a minute, 
 Cherry hailed a man passing by, and
 
 254 AN ENGLISH SQUIRE. 
 
 asked liim to take the horse back to the 
 inn, proposing to Alvar to try to catcli the 
 train at Stonybeach, an intermediate sta- 
 tion, to which he knew a short cut. 
 
 " Can you make a run for it ? " he said. 
 
 " Yes — oh, yes, I can run," said Alvar. 
 " This is an adventure." 
 
 It was such a run across country as 
 reminded Cheriton of his days of paper- 
 chases, and was probably a new experience 
 to Alvar, who remarked breathlessly, as 
 they neared the station, — 
 
 "I can run — when it is necessary; but 
 I do not understand your races for amuse- 
 ment." 
 
 Cheriton made no answer, as they en- 
 tered the station and found that after all a 
 neighbouring market had delayed the train, 
 and that they had still some minutes to 
 wait. 
 
 "That's" too bad,"- said Cherry, as 
 strength and breath fairly failed him, and 
 he sat hastily down on a bench, to his 
 own surprise and annoyance, completely 
 exhausted. 
 
 \
 
 THE otter's glen. 255 
 
 "All! you are too tired!" exclaimed 
 Alvar, coming to him; and with a kind- 
 ness and presence of mind for which few 
 had given him credit, he made Cherry 
 rest, and got the porter to fetch some 
 water for him (the little roadside station 
 afforded nothing else), till after a few 
 minutes of dizzy faintness and breathless- 
 ness. Cherry began to revive into a state 
 of indignation with himself, and gratitude 
 to his brother, the expression of which 
 sentiments Alvar silenced. 
 
 " Hush ! I will not have you talk yet 1 
 You must rest till the train comes. Lean 
 back against me. No — you have not made 
 a confounded fool of yourself, when you 
 could not help it." 
 
 '' I suppose the fall shook me," said 
 Cherry, presently. " Hark ! there is the 
 train. Now, Alvar, don't you say a word 
 of this. I am all right now." 
 
 He stood up as the train came creeping 
 and groaning into the station, and Jack 
 made signs to them out of the window. 
 The train was crowded, and the rest of the
 
 256 AN ENGLISH SQUIRE. 
 
 party were farther back. Jack exclaimed 
 at their appearance, and while they were 
 explaining their adventure, Alvar got some 
 wine for Cheriton out of a hamper that 
 had been brought for the luncheon. 
 
 " Why, Alvar, you are more than half a 
 doctor," said Cherry, as he took it. " I'm 
 all right again now.'' 
 
 Jack scanned him a little anxiously. 
 '' You had no business to be knocked up," 
 he said briefly. " You should not have 
 tried to run when you were so out of con- 
 dition." 
 
 " If I am a doctor. Jack," said Alvar, 
 ''I will. not have my patient scolded. He 
 is better now, are you not, Cherito mio ? 
 And we are not fit to see the ladies. See, 
 I am covered with mud," and Alvar en- 
 deavoured to brush the mud off his hat, 
 and to make his wet clothes look a little 
 less disreputable. 
 
 Cherry put a great coat on, as a mea- 
 sure both of prudence and respectability. 
 He had been desperately desirous of catch- 
 ing the train for the sake of a few more
 
 TfiE otter's glen. 257 
 
 words with Ruth ; for on the next day he 
 was obHged to return to Oxford. They 
 were all to part at Hazelby, where their 
 respective carriages awaited them. 
 
 Ruth had forgotten his very existence 
 as he hurried up to her in the crowded 
 station ; for Rupert had been forced to go 
 on by the train. She remembered now 
 that her walk with him had made Rupert 
 angry, and hardly able to control her voice 
 to speak at all, she wished him a cold, 
 hasty good-night, and sprang into the car- 
 riage without giving him time for a word. 
 
 Cheriton was both angry and miserable ; 
 he stood back silently, while Alvar put 
 Virginia into the carriage, and excused 
 himself gaily for his muddy coat. Dick 
 Seyton ran up at the last minute, and the 
 Lesters set out on their six-miles drive in 
 an open break, under waterproofs and 
 umbrellas, through the pouring rain. The 
 twins disputed under their breath, and 
 Jack lectured Cheriton on the amount of 
 exercise necessary during a period of hard 
 reading. 
 
 VOL. I. s
 
 258 AN ENGLISH SQUIEE. 
 
 Cherry, for once, answered him sharply, 
 and Alvar, as was usually the case 
 when his Geschtvistern quarrelled, wondered 
 silently, both how they could be so un- 
 courteous to each other, and how they could 
 excite themselves so much about nothing. 
 But there had been something in the manner 
 of his kindness and attention that dwelt 
 pleasantly in Cheriton's memory of a day 
 which for many reasons he had afterwards 
 cause to look back upon with pain.
 
 259 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 EIFTS. 
 " It is the little rift within the lover's lute." 
 
 In the June following the expedition to 
 Black Tarn, some great festivities were 
 held in honour of the coming of age of a 
 young nobleman, who possessed a large 
 property about fifteen miles from Oakby. 
 
 His father, the late Lord Milford, had 
 been a friend of Mr. Lester, and the young 
 man himself was at school for a time with 
 his sons. The event being also of im- 
 portance in the county, old Mrs. Lester 
 broke through her usual home-staying 
 habits, and took Ruth and Virginia Seyton 
 for a three days' visit to Milford Hall. 
 
 It was right for Virginia to be seen in 
 her own county before her marriage ; it 
 S 2
 
 260 AN ENGLISH SQUIEE. 
 
 was years since her father and aunt had 
 been present at such a gathering, and 
 Alvar and his father were of course among 
 the guests. Cheriton was passing, or had 
 passed, his examination; but he had decided 
 not to come home until he knew his fate ; 
 and in studying the papers every morning, 
 in the hope of seeing the Class Lists long 
 before they could possibly be printed, Mr. 
 Lester and Alvar found at last a subject 
 on which they could thoroughly sympathize, 
 though Mr. Lester frequently remarked 
 that there was never any knowing how 
 those matters would be managed ; he did 
 not expect much, while Alvar suffered 
 from no misgivings at all. 
 
 Rupert and some of his brother officers 
 were among the guests; the entertainments 
 were of the most brilliant description, and 
 the weather perfect. 
 
 Ruth was well known and popular. 
 True, she distinguished herself neither in 
 archery nor any other outdoor sport ; she 
 was not even a very great dancer ; but she 
 could talk, and look, and smile as if her
 
 EIFTS. 2G1 
 
 companion's words were the one thing 
 interesting to her ; hence her success. 
 And Rupert was there, and in the dark 
 alleys and lonely shrubberies of the great 
 gardens at Milford, opportunities for tete-a- 
 tetes were not wanting. Ruth, conscious 
 of her becoming dress of the soft, warm 
 maize that suited her brown skin, with 
 amusement and admiration to froth her 
 cup of pleasure, and Rupert's exciting pre- 
 sence to spice it and make it worth the 
 drinking, might seem to be enjoying the 
 most brilliant outcome of young-lady life. 
 Sparkle and colour, feeling and passion, 
 she would have chosen as her greatest 
 good. Theoretically she would have will- 
 ingly embraced the pains and penalties 
 which they might bring in their train. 
 Yet Ruth on the sunny lawns and stately 
 paths of Milford was profoundly and 
 violently miserable, full of anger and 
 despair. 
 
 The terms on which she stood with 
 Rupert were such as could only be en- 
 durable with the most perfect trust on
 
 262 AN ENGLISH SQUIRE. 
 
 both sides. Where it was necessary to 
 feign neglect, it was sometimes a strain 
 to believe in the real devotion. Neither 
 Ruth nor Rupert were people whose 
 manners precluded the possibility of a 
 mistake, and, as has been seen, Rupert 
 was not proof against jealousy. The 
 strength of Ruth's own passion made 
 her more trustful of his, but at the same 
 time she demanded more from him, and 
 he failed to fulfil her ideal of an ardent 
 lover. He appeared to her to be too 
 cautious, to miss opportunities, and be his 
 necessity for secrecy what it might, she 
 could not bear to see him attentive to 
 others — to another, rather. 
 
 There was a young Lady Alice, in her 
 first season, a charming childish beauty, 
 after whom it was the fashion to run, and 
 who found it agreeable enough to torment 
 her many admirers, and provoke the aunt 
 who chaperoned her, by flirting w^ith the 
 handsome Captain Lester, who, on his side, 
 knew well enough that she meant nothing 
 serious ; and, while he was true in his
 
 RIFTS. 263 
 
 heart to Ruth, was vain enough to be 
 flattered by the preference of a beauty, and 
 of a lady, moreover, of rank and distinc- 
 tion. It showed every one that he was a 
 man of the world, and a very agreeable 
 fellow. 
 
 Perhaps matters might have mended if 
 Mrs. Lester, who thought modern manners 
 much too free, and drew a sharp distinc- 
 tion between the simplicity of her own 
 straightforward, unwatched girlhood and 
 the coquetries of a ball-room, and who, more- 
 over, disapproved of Ruth, had not looked 
 so very sharply after her, that private inter- 
 views were rendered difficult, and Ruth 
 was growing too angry to seek one. 
 
 She had not sat by him at dinner ; they 
 were separated at the great concert that 
 had been given on the day of their arrival ; 
 and on the next, which was one long fete, 
 ending in a ball, they only caught a few 
 hasty words with each other ; and it ap- 
 peared to her excited fancy that he was for 
 ever at Lady Alice's side. In the evening 
 she would not dance with him, crowding
 
 264 AN ENGLISH SQUIRE. 
 
 her card with names, laughed, talked, 
 flirted, and was wretched. It was not till 
 after supper that he pursued her into the 
 last of a long vista of conservatories, where 
 a very youthful partner had conducted her 
 to smell the stephanotis, and claim the 
 next dance as his own. 
 
 The warm, scented air, the distant 
 music, the soft, dim mingling of lamp and 
 moonlight, through which strange, rare 
 flowers gleamed out from their dark 
 foliage, formed such a background as 
 E/uth's vivid fancy, fed by many a tale and 
 poem, had often painted, to scenes that 
 should satisfy her in their tenderness and 
 intensity. Among the Tvdld fir-woods of 
 Oakby, here and there, at odd times and 
 by unexpected chances, she had known 
 blissful moments, every one of which was 
 before her now as she set her mouth hard, 
 and looked at Rupert with eyes full both 
 of love and anger. 
 
 Rupert was excited and eager, conscious 
 of having given cause of offence, and a 
 little off his head with the flattery he had
 
 EIFTS. 265 
 
 received. He failed to read the meaning 
 of her face, and turned to lier eagerly. 
 
 '' At last, my child ! Mrs. Lester is a 
 perfect dragon ! " 
 
 " I don't think it has been Mrs. Lester's 
 fault." 
 
 '' It has been none of mine," said Rupert. 
 "" Your fine, yellow dress escaped me at 
 every turn, and I could not get away from 
 the people. I have had to work hard for 
 my fun, and arrange dozens of things." 
 
 " I daresay it is very pleasant to be so 
 popular," said Ruth, detecting the little 
 boast, which in a cooler moment would 
 have passed unnoticed. There was a sort 
 of airiness in Rupert's manner, inex- 
 pressibly irritating when she wanted every 
 assurance of the passion which she was so 
 often obliged to take upon trust. 
 
 *' Come, Ruthie, that's not fair. What 
 is a poor fellow to do ? I have been 
 horribly down in the mouth since we 
 parted ; it takes so long to get one's affairs 
 to rights. Your guardians would bow me 
 out of the house pretty quickly if I applied
 
 266 AN ENGLISH SQUIRE. 
 
 to them now. Can you trust me a little 
 longer, my darling ? I'm living on two- 
 pence a day to bring things round." 
 
 '* And did the gloves Lady Alice won 
 from you, come out of the twopence .^" said 
 Ruth, unable to control her anger, sarcastic 
 because such a storm of tears was pending. 
 
 Eupert's quick temper took fire in a 
 moment. 
 
 " If you have so little confidence in me, 
 Ruth, as to be angry at such a trifle," he 
 said hotly, "it is impossible — You make 
 me feel that I ask more of you than you 
 can give." 
 
 " Yes," said Ruth, '* I cannot give such 
 confidence. When it is months since I 
 have seen you — weeks since I heard from 
 you. I cannot see you devoted to — to 
 another, when you cannot find a moment 
 for me. If you can bear it — " 
 
 " You are very unreasonable, Ruth. I 
 thought that you were generous before all 
 other women, and patient. You speak as 
 if you doubted my honour." 
 
 *' If it comes to talking of honour,'' cried
 
 RIFTS. 207 
 
 Eutli, " if you need tlioi to bind you, you 
 are free. I will not hold you one hour by 
 your honour ! " 
 
 " Nor I you to a trial of generosity, 
 which it seems you cannot bear." 
 
 If Rupert had not been first Ute montee, 
 and then very angry, he would not have 
 made this remark. 
 
 " Generosity ! " cried Ruth. " No. If 
 honour and generosity are required between 
 us, I'll make no claim on them. Let it all 
 be over — we'll part. Yes, we'll part, and 
 then you need deny yourself nothing — 
 nothing for my sake." 
 
 '' It might be best — if you look on it in 
 tins way." 
 
 There was a silence. Rupert pulled 
 his moustaches sharply; his face vTas 
 pale ; in that hot moment he felt he 
 might be well quit of Ruth's unreasonable 
 jealousy and suspicion. Ruth sat quite 
 still ; she would have yielded at a word, 
 perhaps — in a minute more she might even 
 have made the first advance to a recon- 
 ciliation. But as the dance ended the con-
 
 2G8 AN ENGLISH SQUIRE. 
 
 servatorj filled witli people. They were 
 joined by two or three couples, and a young 
 lady, an old acquaintance of Rupert's, ex- 
 claimed, with sujficient forwardness, — 
 
 " Oh, Captain Lester, what do you think 
 we were discussing ? People say that you 
 are engaged to be married. Is it true — do 
 tell me ? " 
 
 " No," said Rupert shortly. " I am not 
 engaged to be married, nor likely to be." 
 
 He laughed bitterly as he spoke, and 
 perhaps under the circumstances could 
 hardly have avoided some sort of denial ; 
 but the directness of this one, and the tone 
 in which it was spoken, seemed to seal 
 Ruth's fate. She said afterwards that she 
 went mad at that moment, and certainly 
 she lost the soft self-possession that was 
 one of her chief charms, grew daring 
 and defiant, and said and did things that 
 others remembered long after she had 
 recovered from the wild excitement that 
 prompted them. The sacredness of un- 
 governable feeling was an article of her 
 faith, and she was quite as miserable as
 
 RIFTS. 269 
 
 she ever tlioiight true love would deniand 
 of any one. But the poor child, as she sat 
 on the floor in her own room that night, 
 with her face hidden on a chair, did not 
 think at all that she was " having an ex- 
 perience," nor going through the second 
 volume of the story, in the beginning of 
 which she had so gloried; she only felt 
 that she was utterly and inconceivably 
 wretched, and angry beyond expression. 
 Rupert did not care for her, or only cared 
 in a commonplace fashion. There was 
 nothing left in life for her. Evidently he 
 had been glad to find in the quarrel an 
 excuse for an escape. 
 
 Ruth's hot displeasure culminated when 
 she came down to breakfast the next 
 morning, and found that every one was 
 regretting the departure of the officers 
 from York, who had been obliged to take 
 leave early that morning. They would be 
 a great loss at the tenants' ball that night. 
 
 " Father, my father," suddenly exclaimed 
 Alvar Lester, coming into the room with a 
 newspaper in his hand. '' See, it is here,
 
 270 AN ENGLISH SQUIRE. 
 
 ' Gerald Oheriton Lester.' And he is first. 
 I said so. Ah ! I rejoice ! " 
 
 Alvar's eager voice and excited face 
 attracted general attention, as he put the 
 paper into his father's hand, and pointed 
 over his shoulder. There was a chorus 
 of congratulation, while Mr. Lester's blue 
 eyes looked as bright as his son's black 
 ones, as he hummed and ha'd, coughed 
 two or three times, and said, with as little 
 exultation as he could manage to show, 
 ^' That he was glad Cheriton had worked 
 hard and done'his best. He was a good lad, 
 and had never given any trouble. Now, 
 they could have him at home for a bit." 
 
 ''Ah! that will be jolly,'' said Alvar. 
 " But he will have come home, through last 
 night, and we shall not be there." 
 
 '' Send a telegram to meet him, and ask 
 him to come over," said young Lord Mil- 
 ford. '* He always was a capital fellow, and 
 I shall be delighted to see him." 
 
 '' And I hope, Milford," said the young 
 lord's mother, " that you will take example 
 by your friend."
 
 EIFTS. 271 
 
 " Don't you bnilcl on any sucli hopes, 
 mother, but I'll go and see about getting 
 him over here at once." 
 
 Mrs. Lester was moved to encomiums 
 on Cherry's studies and steadiness ; and 
 more than one of those present remarked 
 with admiration the unselfish pleasure taken 
 by the elder brother in the success of his 
 universally popular junior. 
 
 Virginia Seyton watched her betrothed a 
 little wistfully. Ruth's was not the only 
 love story that was running its course 
 through these early summer months, and 
 Virginia's heart was not quite at ease. If 
 '' what Hupert was like," had come upon 
 Huth with a sudden blow, " what Alvar was 
 like," was still something of a problem to 
 Virginia. He was attractive to her beyond 
 measure, he occupied every corner of her 
 heart; it was joy to her to be near him; 
 his gentle, chivalrous courtship gave her 
 unimaginable delight. She could remember 
 every glance of his eyes, every touch of his 
 hand ; but — But what ? Alvar was at 
 once too obtuse and too proud ever to
 
 272 AN ENGLISH SQUIRE. 
 
 assume a character that did not iDelong to 
 him. He did not think it worth while to 
 acquire or profess new sentiments ; perhaps 
 he never even perceived that thej were 
 desired. He was, spite of his courteous 
 tongue, as absohitely candid a person as his 
 brother Jack. He was not a bit worse 
 than he seemed, neither was he much 
 better. He behaved very well in his 
 difficult life, and regulated his conduct by 
 certain maxims of honour and courtesy; 
 but, in the sense in which Virginia under- 
 stood the word, he had no principles at all. 
 It was with a curious mixture of sensations 
 that, when, a proijos of some scrape of 
 Dick's, she had timidly alluded to the 
 gambling that had brought such distress 
 on her family, Virginia heard him answer, — 
 
 '' Ah, they have had much ill-fortune," 
 without a spark apparently of righteous 
 indignation. 
 
 Nor could she help perceiving that he 
 scarcely ever occupied himself with any- 
 thing more useful than a cigar. '* My father 
 is always busy," he would say complacently,
 
 RIFTS. 278 
 
 as he sat idle ; but lie did not point any 
 popular moral ; for idleness made liim 
 neither ill-humoured nor mischievous. 
 
 Virginia loved him well enough to set all 
 her will on the side of making allowances. 
 When he saw her scrupulous and earnest in 
 fulfilhng her religious duties, he would kiss 
 her hand and say, ** My queen is as holy as 
 a saint," and he conformed sufficiently to the 
 Oakby standard to satisfy her conscience, 
 if not his own, never uttering a word that 
 could offend her. But, as he had told 
 Cheriton, ''he did not interest himself in 
 these matters," and she knew it. 
 
 Perhaps Virginia, diffident as to her 
 knowledge of masculine standards and 
 modes of expression, might never have 
 realized even thus much to herself, but for 
 the instinctive sense of another short- 
 coming in her lover, which she would not 
 admit, and which she hated herself for even 
 imagining. It came, by a strange turn of 
 fate, both to her and to Ruth, to feel that 
 the love they gave was not returned in its 
 fulness. With what a passion of despair 
 
 VOL. I. T
 
 274 AN ENGLISH SQUIRE. 
 
 and jealousy Rutli had resented the dis- 
 covery has been seen. 
 
 To Virginia it brought a disheartening 
 sense of her own demerit, a doubt of the 
 truth of her own impressions, vexation at 
 her own want of trustfulness, shame and 
 self-blame, because she could not help 
 knowing that Alvar missed sometimes the 
 chance of a word or an interview when she 
 would have secured it, because she felt that 
 he did not care as she cared. But then, 
 temperaments differ; some people were 
 reserved; perhaps she was exacting, and 
 her cheek had jBLushed and her eyes sparkled 
 with joy when Alvar praised the dresses 
 she had taken such pains to choose for 
 the Milford fetes, and when he paid her 
 all the attention due from an affianced 
 lover. 
 
 She had no cause to feel neglected, while 
 Ruth was chafing at the sight of Rupert's 
 flirtations. And when the news came of 
 Cheriton's success, was she not proud of 
 Alvar's generous delight? Yes, but she 
 had never stirred his passive content to
 
 RIFTS. 275 
 
 sucli pleasure ; lie had never been in such 
 high spirits for her ! Ah ! how hatefully 
 selfish she was to think of it ! 
 
 The two girls exchanged no confidences. 
 Ruth's heart was too sore, and Virginia's 
 too loyal for a word; but as they consulted 
 over their dresses, and speculated whether 
 Cheriton would arrive in time for the 
 tenants' dance that night, each wondered 
 what the other would say to the secret 
 thoughts of her heart. 
 
 T 2
 
 276 AN ENGLISH SQUIEE. 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII 
 
 RED SUNRISE. 
 
 " happy world !" thought Pelleas, ''all me seems 
 Are happy — I the happiest of them all." 
 
 On tliat same liot summer niglit, when 
 Eutli and Rupert were first making each 
 other miserable, and then finding out 
 separately that they were very miserable 
 themselves, Cheriton, with hope and joy in 
 his heart, was speeding home to Oakby. 
 With hope and joy, for Ruth had made up 
 for her cold farewell, by makiug some little 
 excuse for writing to him, and asking him 
 to get her a picture of the Arms of the 
 Colleges, a commission which, it is needless 
 to say, he found time to execute. 
 
 This pleasure had helped him through 
 his hard work, for he was excitable enough
 
 RED SUNRISE. 277 
 
 to have felt the last few weeks of effort 
 and suspense a severe strain, and had not 
 brought quite his usual health and strength 
 to bear on them ; for he had caught a bad 
 cold with the race in the rain at Black 
 Tarn, and had never given himself a 
 chance of getting rid of it. However, it 
 was all over now, he thought, his mind 
 was relieved, and the prospect of home 
 with its leisure and its occupations had 
 never seemed so delightful to him. For 
 his love for Ruth did not shut out the 
 thought of all other affections, it rather 
 cast a radiance over them, and made him 
 more conscious of their sweetness. 
 
 It was a lovely summer morning, as the 
 train came in to Ashrigg station, the wide 
 landscape showed clear and fresh against 
 the cloudless skj, the peculiar northern 
 sharpness was in the air. It was sweet to 
 Cherry's senses, and finding no conveyance 
 so early at Ashrigg, he set off to walk 
 home across the dewy fields. Buffer, 
 enchanted at his release from durance vile, 
 trotting and barking at his heels.
 
 278 AN ENGLISH SQUIRE. 
 
 By various short cuts tlie walk was 
 under three miles, and Clieriton soon found 
 himself at the house, where he had time to 
 get some breakfast, and to feel somewhat 
 disappointed that no one was at home to 
 hear his good news, for he felt too tired to 
 go and seek for congratulations at the 
 Vicarage, where Nettie was staying, or 
 where he would have been at least equally 
 certain of them, to the Lodge to which the 
 old family nurse had migrated. 
 
 So he contented himself with greeting 
 all the dogs, and with the delightful con- 
 sciousness that he had no need to exert 
 himself, till Lord Milford's telegram ar- 
 rived, and the thought of so quickly 
 greeting Ruth, and of finding her belong- 
 ing as it were to his own party, and thus 
 making a thousand opportunities for pay- 
 ing her attention, roused him from his fit 
 of languor and fatigue, and he eagerly 
 made his preparations, and started off in 
 the middle of the bright June day, on his 
 further travels. 
 
 The midsummer weather in that north-
 
 RED SUNEISE. 279 
 
 ern country had still miicli of the freshness 
 and the delicacy of the spring. The trees 
 were in their first bright green, the blue- 
 bells lingered in the woods, the birds sang 
 songs of hopefulness to him. Milford was 
 in a softer, more richly-wooded landscape 
 than Oakby, and the gardens were splendid 
 with early roses and flowering shrubs, the 
 park still here and there white with haw- 
 thorn. 
 
 This was the children's day, a great 
 school feast for all the parishes round, to 
 be followed by a children's dance in the 
 evening. Cheriton arrived in the midst of 
 a grand tea in the park, and pausing to 
 detect his relations, perceived Alvar look- 
 ing even unusually tall, stately, and grace- 
 ful, as he walked along a row of the very 
 tiniest children, and' filled their mugs with 
 milk and water from a huge can. He 
 looked up as he came to the end, and saw 
 Cheriton' s laughing eyes fixed full upon him. 
 
 *' Ah ! Cheriton ! " he exclaimed, *' you 
 are here, and with all your honours ! 
 Welcome."
 
 280 AN ENGLISH SQUIEE. 
 
 " Thanks ; I knew you would be pleased. 
 So you are making yourself useful. Where's 
 my father? " 
 
 " In the tent with Lady Milford. I will 
 show you." 
 
 Cheriton was inchned to think it a great 
 bore to find his own people surrounded by 
 strangers, and was ashamed of the congra- 
 tulations which the circumstances of his 
 arrival and the warm-heartedness of his 
 hosts called forth. So he and his father 
 hardly said a word to each other, though 
 they experienced a great content in being 
 together ; perhaps a more uncommon end- 
 ing to a university career than Cherry's 
 honours, even had they been doubled. 
 
 " Come, Lester," said Lord Milford, 
 " and make yourself useful. I know you 
 are great at sack-races, and three-legged 
 races, and such diversions." 
 
 '' After being up all night ? Well, as 
 long as I am not expected to jump in a 
 sack myself — " said Cheriton. " Come, 
 Alvar, don't you want another can of milk 
 and water?"
 
 EED SUNETSE. 281 
 
 '' All ! you laugh at me," said Alvar 
 contentedly. " I am too glad to see you 
 to care. This fete is very pleasant. I am 
 glad you came back in time for it." 
 
 " Yes ; but I wisli we were all at home," 
 said Cheriton absently, and looking anx- 
 iously round him. He soon discovered 
 Virginia, much in her element among a 
 crowd of school-girls ; and at length his 
 eyes found the object of their search. A 
 little apart on a bench sat Ruth in the 
 most delicate of white muslins, gloves, fan, 
 and ribbons, all in first-rate order, looking, 
 with the fantastic fashion, and brilliant 
 dashes of colour in her dress, like a figure 
 on a fan. She gave a little start as she saw 
 Cheriton' s figure in the distance, and her 
 flush of disappointment as he came nearer 
 was at once noted by him, and — mis- 
 interpreted. 
 
 "So you have got your laurels ? " she 
 said softly, as she held out her hand, and 
 looked up in his face. " I am glad." 
 
 " Then they are worth having ? " said 
 Cheriton.
 
 282 AN ENGLISH SQUIRE. 
 
 It might liave been a mere jesting 
 answer, but Eutli did not so take it, nor 
 did he intend that she should do so. He 
 would have altered nothing in her greeting 
 to him, it was a better meeting than he 
 could have imagined. Afterwards, if Ruth 
 had wished to discourage him, she w^ould 
 not have found it easy ; he had but one 
 purpose, and he set himself to fulfil it ; 
 hopeful through the charm of present bliss. 
 It was not often that Cheriton's native 
 skies were so cloudless, nor were these hot, 
 full summer days at all typical of the home 
 that he loved so well. But it was in such 
 " blue unclouded weather," in such smiling 
 midsummer beauty, that he pictured after- 
 wards the wind-swept moors and hardy 
 fir-woods of his north-country home. Nor 
 did the memory of hot, glaring sunshine, 
 of dust, and noise, and fatigue, cease to 
 haunt Ruth for many a day to come. 
 
 She was one of those to whom excite- 
 ment gives another and an intenser self. 
 Of til is she was dimly conscious, and when 
 she had said that she could die for Rupert,
 
 BED SUNRISE. 283 
 
 she had perhaps not been far wrong. That 
 extreme anger would urge her to a course 
 almost equally desperate she had never 
 guessed, but to give Rupert pain, to cause 
 him chagrin and remorse, in short, to make 
 him jealous and miserable as he had made 
 her, she would have endured tortures. 
 
 When people are thus minded, in other 
 words, when they are in a passion, life 
 always helps them on. Whether by acci- 
 dent or by malice, she had heard plenty of 
 gossip about Rupert ; he had written no 
 word of repentance ; she knew that Lady 
 Alice would shortly meet him again. Well, 
 if lier conduct was discussed between them, 
 he should hear enough, both to hurt his 
 provoking self-love, and to show that*"h e 
 did not suffer. And Cheriton offered the 
 sort of strange counter-attraction often felt 
 on such occasions to any one else than the 
 object of anger. 
 
 She had always liked to " talk to Cherry," 
 his love was flattering, and she instinctively 
 knew that it was true. He was also a 
 singularly attractive and lovable person,
 
 284 AN ENGLISH SQUIEE. 
 
 and in Ruth's sore-hearted rage she felt his 
 charm. " It was nice to be with him — he 
 did her good;" and if she could wound 
 Rupert and please herself, the possible dis- 
 appointment to Cheriton was not worth 
 considering. But Ruth reckoned without 
 her host. She neither allowed for Cheriton' s 
 ardour, nor for the effect that it would 
 have on her ; she did not know how definite 
 her choice must be. 
 
 Cherry was not nearly so useful as his 
 friend had expected ; he was too tired to 
 play games, and dancing, he said, gave him 
 a pain in his side and made him cough, 
 which was true, and would have been an 
 equally good reason against wandering 
 about in the shrubberies and distant paths 
 with Ruth, where he incurred other dan- 
 gers than night air and dewy grass. He 
 was too happy to heed any of them. She 
 listened, as Ruth knew how to listen, to 
 his account of his Oxford life — his hopes 
 and fears — his future prospects — and she 
 was carried away, spite of herself, by the 
 single-minded earnestness with which he
 
 EED SUNEISE. 285 
 
 spoke. He interested her, and slie forgot 
 herself for the moment as they strolled 
 along ; the yellow sunset dying in the 
 distance, the first star shining over the 
 great house behind them. Suddenly 
 Cheriton turned and took her hand. 
 
 " Ruth," he said, *' I have told you all 
 this because it is so sweet to see you listen. 
 I have something more to tell you now. I 
 have a great many aims and ambitions — 
 there's one dearer than the rest. I love 
 my own people — my home — very much. I 
 love you best, infinitely best. I always 
 have loved you. Can you love me ? " 
 
 " Oh, Cherry ! " cried Ruth, in desperate 
 self-defence, " don't say so ! That sort 
 of love is all a mistake. Keep to the 
 other sort — it is a great deal better for 
 you." 
 
 " Better ! " exclaimed Cheriton. " One 
 thing is best for me — to have you for my 
 wife. Oh, Ruth, my darling ! ever since I 
 was a boy I have loved you. Can't you 
 care a little for me ? I think you can — I 
 hope you can. You have always listened
 
 286 AN ENGLISH SQUIRE. 
 
 to me and understood me. I think you 
 know me better than any one does ! " 
 
 '' I know — you do care," said Euth, half 
 to herself. 
 
 " It is my very life," he said, and as she, 
 trembling, hardly able to stand, made a 
 half movement towards — not away from 
 him — he threw his arms round her and 
 drew her close. " My darling ! — oh, my 
 darling 1 am I so happy ? — ah ! thank Grod ! 
 Thank God ! " 
 
 Ruth burst into a passion of tears. 
 Retreat was growing impossible ; she 
 hardly knew what she wished; anger, a 
 sort of wild triumph, the difficulty of 
 resisting this passionate pleading, the in- 
 conceivable joy of Cheriton's face and 
 voice, added to the overstrained excite- 
 ment of her previous feelings, completely 
 overpowered her, till her sobs were un- 
 controllable, and with them came the 
 strangest impulse to tell him all, the most 
 incongruous confidence in the justice and 
 sympathy of this passionate lover for 
 the love and sorrows that would have
 
 RED SUNRISE. 287 
 
 wrecked his hopes. Ah ! if she had but 
 done so ! 
 
 " Oh, what a fool I have been ! " cried 
 Cheriton, exceedingly distressed. " Oh, 
 Ruth, my darling ! I have frightened 
 you. I'll be patient ; I'll not say another 
 word. See, here's a seat — sit down. I 
 deserve that you should never speak to 
 me again." 
 
 Ruth let him lead her to the bench, and 
 endeavoured to collect her senses. 
 
 " I am not half good enough for you. 
 You don't know what you want," she 
 faltered. 
 
 " Oh, yes, I do. I know just what I 
 want," said Cheriton softly and gently ; 
 but venturing to sit down beside her, and 
 trying to reassure her by a little playful- 
 ness ; " but I don't know how to ask for 
 it. Alvar might have shown me the 
 way." 
 
 " Oh, you know well enough," said Ruth, 
 in a more natural tone, and in the few 
 moments, while he sat watching her, her 
 excitement cooled down, or rather hardened
 
 288 AN ENGLISH SQUIEE 
 
 itself into shape. Her tears dried up, and 
 she said, — 
 
 " What would your father say ? " 
 
 " He will think me too happy ! Will 
 you forgive me for startling you, and give 
 me my answer now ? " 
 
 He was half smiling, as he timidly put 
 out his hand again. She had given reason 
 enough to hope for the answer he wanted, 
 and suddenly there darted into her mind 
 as an excuse, a reason, an explanation of 
 all this conflict of impulses, of the wish 
 to pique Rupert to avenge herself on the 
 one side — to snatch something from life 
 if she could not have all on the other — 
 a thought — " When Rupert knows he has 
 such a rival, if. he loves me, he will not 
 give me np." She yielded her hand to 
 Cheriton's, and said quickly, — 
 
 " Only promise me one thing. I did 
 not think of this — it is so sudden. I am 
 going away to-morrow, to Mrs. Grey's, for 
 a fortnight. Promise not to tell any one — 
 your father, your brothers, till I come back. 
 Give me time to — to get used to it first."
 
 RED SUNRISE. 289 
 
 '' Of course," said Clieriton reluctantly, 
 " that must be as you please. But I 
 long to tell tliem of my great happiness. 
 And my father will care so much about it. 
 But of course I promise. But I may write 
 to you ? " 
 
 " No — no — then every one will find it 
 out ! " said Ruth, with recurring agitation. 
 " You — you don't know how I feel about 
 it." 
 
 "" Well, T have gained too much to com- 
 plain," said Clieriton, too loyal-hearted, 
 and too inexperienced, for a single doubt. 
 *' But Ruth, my Ruth, one thing — give me 
 one kiss to remember ! " 
 
 *' Go then — go ! some one will find us ! " 
 cried Ruth, and startled by approaching 
 footsteps, she rushed away from him ; but 
 the treacherous kiss was given, though she 
 felt in a moment that she would almost 
 have died to recall it. She had revenged 
 herself ; she hated herself ; she already 
 began to try to excuse herself. 
 
 A little later, while troops of gaily- 
 dressed children were dancing in the 
 
 VOL. I. u
 
 290 AN ENGLISH SQUIRE. 
 
 liglited hall, and tlie out -door guests were 
 rapidly departing, Alvar was standing on 
 the terrace, wondering what could have 
 become of his brother. More than one 
 person had remarked that he looked deli- 
 cate and overworked; and Alvar felt 
 anxious as he saw him come slowly up 
 from the grounds towards him. 
 
 " Where have you been. Cherry ? " he 
 said. '' Are you not well ? " 
 
 Cheriton smiled rather dreamily. 
 
 " Oh, yes, quite well," he said. There 
 was a far-away look of blissful, peaceful 
 content in his eyes, as if it were indeed 
 well with him; an expression of perfect, 
 thankful happiness, as far removed from 
 the ordinary state of this tolerably com- 
 fortable work-a-day world as one of great 
 wretchedness and misery ; and as remark- 
 able. As Alvar looked at him, they heard 
 the cry of a little child. Cheriton turned 
 and saw trotting along the terrace in the 
 dusk a very little boy, left behind by some 
 of the schools now trooping out of the 
 park. Cherry lifted him up in his arms
 
 RED SUNRISE. 201 
 
 and smiled kindly at him, trying to make 
 out whom he belonged to, and the child 
 clung to him, quite at ease with him. 
 ''Milford School; ah! I see their flag. 
 Come, my lad, we'll go and find them. 
 There, don't cry, nobody must cry to- 
 night, of all nights in the year." 
 
 '' When Lady Milford has been so kind," 
 said Alvar, for the child's benefit. 
 
 '' Ah ! every one is kind ! " said Cherry, 
 with a little laugh, as he carried away the 
 child, '' and we must — say thank you." 
 
 END OF VOL. I. 
 
 LONDON: UILBEUT AND EIVINGTON, PRINTERS, ST. JOHN S SQUARE.