4/ 'L'l E> RA HY OF THE U N IVE.RSITY Of ILLINOIS 823 K38Sf v./ FAKNORTH. By THEO. KENNEDY. IN THREE VOLUMES. Vol. I. LONDON: CHAPMAN AND HALL, 193, PICCADILLY. 1866. LONDON : PRINTED BY W. CLOWES AND SONS, STAMFORD STREET, AND CHARING CROSS. ••' 3 b'jp * 4 Dedicated to Myles Kennedy, With the Affectionate Regards of the Writer. FARNORTH. CHAPTEK I. Eighteen years ago! A great many changes have taken place since that period. Wonderful events have come to pass since then. Eighteen years ago! The commercial treaty was undreamt of, and crinoline unknown. Stiff collars tortured our miserable ears, and a Niagara of satin flowed into our waistcoats. Eighteen years ago ! Stout Mr. Smith, of the firm of Orleans & Co., armed with an umbrella, rushed with coward haste across the Channel, and the inscrutable one was in the throes of that coup d'etat, which was to work so many mighty changes in civilized Europe. Eighteen years ago ! The heroes of Alma, Inkermann, and the Kedan were callow ensigns, glorying in three-cornered tarts and cherry bounce, VOL. I. B Farnorth. Eighteen years ago! King Midas reigned, though slightly tottering on his throne, and Countess Lola scattered terror in the breasts of Jesuits. Where are they now, Jhese two last, the Steam rKing and the Comtesse de la Cirque ? Poor dethroned monarch of Scrip! Is there anything of Midas left you, but the ears ? I fear me not. And the beautiful sinner, who set society at defiance, and for the sake of whose black-lashed violet eyes a doting king gave up his crown : where is she ? Dead, your worships. Grim paralysis and penitence laid her prostrate in her prime. The rising generation know nothing of Lola, and 'tis just as well they do not. Eighteen years have wrought some changes in you and me, dear middle-aged reader. The halcyon days, when our whiskers were beyond suspicion, and not a button of our waistcoats overtasked, are over. Wisdom has set in with our wrinkles ; though faith in earthly things may have vanished in company with our teeth and hair. We have had our sorrows ; we have buried many bright hopes, beautiful beings, healthy enough to all seeming, but sickening and dying notwithstanding. We have had our joys perhaps. We have grinned, and mouthed it finely in our Eighteen Years ago. motley, nous autres, and now, alas ! there is but little left to us. We are only banner-bearers on this mortal stage, no chance of playing Hamlet or Macbeth, so we will pose ourselves as best we may, and flutter our colours jauntily. Eighteen years ago, we, the inhabitants of Far- north, the most picturesque corner of Blankshire, were by no means so well up with the world as we are at present. Steam had not penetrated our lovely hills and dales — Madame La Mode ignored our existence: she comes to us now in twenty-four hours direct from Paris, and bedizens our wives and daughters in her newest fancies. Her mighty influence has extended to our poorest rustics. She has swept away the linsey-woolsey petticoat, the short jacket, and the snowy mob cap, and supplanted them with crinoline and shabby finery. I do not think we have gained much by this last change. Nature has been no step-dame to Farnorth. She has scattered her choicest gifts with a prodigal hand: she has given to this favoured district undulating plains, with a distance of azure moun- tains, steep crags clothed with lichens and brightly tinted heather, hedge-rows green with fern and gay with flowers, tiny cataracts sparkling in the b 2 Farnovth. sunshine, little rivers winding through hill and dale as though in tender haste to rest upon the bosom of the sea, feathery larches, wooing the soft south wind, graceful as exotic palms. All these and many other beauties has Nature bestowed on Famorth. I have not half exhausted the catalogue. Moreover, the riches are not all upon the surface. Deep down in those lovely hills and dales lie hidden veins of choicest metals. As you wander along among the green fields you will come upon enclosures of shafts and trams, and straight tall chimnies. Unsightly murky- looking spots these are; blots upon the fair landscape in the eyes of every one, save those of the fortunate proprietors. [Fortunate pro- prietors, indeed, they frequently are, expanding from comparative poverty into chronic opulence with the aid of these disfiguring objects.] Nearly all the peasantry of Farnorth are miners. You will meet them on every side, their faces stained with the rich red ore, giving them an appearance not unlike Pawnees. They are infinitely more picturesque-looking than their coal-gummed brethren of Northumberland and Durham. These miners are a hard-working, harmless race enough, without any special evil The Miners, characteristic, unless drunkenness be considered one. Their interests are bounded by their district, and those living twenty miles beyond are regarded as "oncomes" and foreigners. They speak the very broadest patois; they have a strong sense of humour, but they can scarcely be considered very intellectual. They take little or no interest in politics ; and so long as no Act is passed to restrict them in their beer, I do not think there is much chance of a rising amongst them. As a rule the men are infinitely superior to their wives (I am speaking of Farnorth working men, not of men in general, Messieurs et Mesdames). These ladies are not remarkable for reticence, and their conversation is calculated to appal fastidious ears, it is so very freely be- sprinkled with strong adjectives. They have forgotten their catechism — if, indeed, they ever knew it — and do not comport themselves lowly and reverently to all their betters. They will not recognise caste, and their easy familiarity would scare a fine south country lady into fits. Farnorth has its market-town, and its society. This latter abounds in cliques, which require the ingenuity of Dickens' artist in hair properly to define. I will not attempt it, feeling myself Farnorth. totally unequal to such a delicate task. I am writing now of eighteen years ago, although I speak in the present tense. The lovely hills and dales are dotted with handsome houses. Foremost amongst them stands Foxeroft, the residence of the Plantagenet family. The old baronet, a very notorious man in his day, is dead. It is said the death of his eldest son killed him; but I do not attach much faith to that little romance. Sir Mortimer, the present baronet, has been of age for some years now; but he lives abroad with his mother and sisters. Foxeroft is a fine old building, having the remains of a moat and portcullis, dating heaven knows how far back. The Plantagenets are no gourds, I can confidently assure you. The park is very fine ; but it is intersected with iron railings, and each enclosure is tenanted by milch cows, belonging to the different farmers in the neigh- bourhood. Foxeroft dependents have been known to shed tears of agony over this last terrible fact. There is also a lack of timber about the property ; many trees have been luthlessly felled lately. The old baronet, Sir Mortimer Plantagenet Plan- tagenet, was very wild in his youth, and on intimate terms with the first gentleman in Europe. Giles Houndly, Esq. [A portrait of that padded old profligate, taken in his latter days, when he might be called the wreck of the Eoyal George, faces you as you enter the large dining-hall.] It is whispered that all the unentailed part of the Foxcroft , estate — a very considerable portion by the way — is heavily mortgaged, and that necessity more than inclina- tion exiles the present baronet. That handsome Gothic house, with its straight walks and quaintly clipped evergreens, is the property of Giles Houndly, Esq., one of Her Majesty's justices of the peace for the county. Some years ago this gentleman was not by any means so prosperous as he is now. It was a grand thing for him when the heiress of Gothic Hall fell in love with, and married him. Giles is a widower now ; he is as welcome at some of the houses in Farnorth as flowers in May, for he is the purveyor in general, as well as the principal incubator, of all the malicious scandal and gossip which is hatched in the neighbourhood. That pretty cottage with its sloping lawn, its trim beds, and its wilderness of roses, is the dwelling place of two maiden ladies, and was, until lately, the home of their nephew. I can remember to this day what a commotion the 8 Farnorth. advent of these good people occasioned in Far- north. How it knitted its brows and shrugged its shoulders at the scandal of two young women (the eldest was scarcely thirty then), alighting as it were from the clouds, bringing with them a little boy — for whose presence they offered neither apology nor explanation— and betaking themselves to humble apartments in the High Street of the market town ! The local Mrs. Grundy was fright- fully outraged, and the delinquents formed the principal topic of conversation at the card-parties for months. Giles Houndly, Esq. — he was then a solicitor in very poor practice — had a greal deal to say on this subject, he delivered himself of many brilliant speeches, quite outshone himself in short, and with his usual benevolence penetrated into the sanctum of the ladies, and presented them with a choice nosegay, culled with the greatest care from every hotbed of scandal in the neigh- bourhood. He did not, however, gain much by this. To all his hints and innuendoes about the boy, he received but one answer — the child was then- orphan nephew. Their purses, poor ladies, were evidently light enough when first they came ; how otherwise would they have reconciled them- selves to those mean rooms, and to that dirty old TJie Snowe Family. termagant, their landlady? Some five or six years after their arrival, considerable property reverted to them. They were not much more communicative on this subject than they had been on others : but it gradually became known that Major-General Snowe, H.E.I.C.S., had left to his beloved nieces, Alathea and Mary Snowe, the sum of five-and-twenty thousand pounds in the three per cent, consols; and when, subsequently, they applied for and purchased the cottage they now occupy, Farnorth smoothed out all the wrinkles on its forehead, and held out the right hand of fellowship. It was by no means cordially grasped at first, but time works wonders, and the Misses Snowe being possessed of gentle and forgiving natures, gradually allowed themselves to drift into acquaintanceship and even friendship with some of the families in the neighbourhood. Not long after the descent of the golden shower, young Horace, the principal cause of Mrs. Grundy's con- vulsions, was sent to Sandhurst, and in due course a commission was purchased for him in her Majesty's service. He has grown up a noble- hearted, handsome man, and his two aunts wept unceasingly for days when he sailed for India, three months ago, to join his regiment there. 10 Farnorth. The market-town of Farnorth is old-fashioned and quaint-looking enough, its one High Street is its glory. The parish-church is built in the good old style, and the service is conducted after the good old fashion. Our white-haired pastor would as soon think of picking your pocket as departing one iota from the beaten track made sacred by the footsteps of our forefathers. When the last curate — he came straight from Oxford and brought his young sister to live with him, and they were both wonderfully popular before this unhappy event — when, I say, the handsome Oxonian and his pretty sister undertook the decoration of the church at Christmas — holly had been permitted from time immemorial to hang from the old arches at this festive season — confiding Farnorth con- sented, unsuspicious of evil; but when the day arrived, and the startled congregation saw, lurking amongst the holly, scarlet crosses made of its berries — when their eyes fell upon green wreaths above the altar, where here and there artificial flowers showed their brazen meretricious faces, the hubbub and commotion were something terrible. Giles Houndly, Esq., was very busy, you may rest assured, and babbled loudly of the scarlet lady. The poor young curate and Ins pretty sister The Doctor and the Lawyer. 11 could make no stand against the storm ; Farnorth bad raised its banner of " No Popery," and waved it wildly aloft. The unhappy criminals were glad enough to rush away and shelter themselves in some less conservative district. Last Christmas, the good old pastor and his new coadjutor did not venture to admit even the green holly into the sacred edifice. Dr. Banques — I very much doubt whether he has any legal right to the prefix, but we give surgeons and apothecaries brevet rank in Farnorth — Dr. Banques occupies the large white house in the middle of High Street. Allopathy reigns supreme amongst us ; Homoeopathy does not dare to show its cloven foot. We believe in blue-pills, black-draughts, and occasional blood lettings. Mr, Sparkles is our principal legal adviser. He suc- ceeded Giles Houndly, Esq., when that gentleman rose to marital preferment, but he has a much better practice than his predecessor had. He lives in that house with the two large bay-windows immediately facing you as you enter the town of Farnorth. There are a great many more handsome houses both in the town and neighbourhood, but as the occupants of most of them will only form a part in my choruses I do not intend to give them any special mention. 12 Farnorth. CHAPTER II. The last rays of a bright September sunset lit up the latticed windows of Gothic Hall, and spread a golden nimbus around the scanty locks which fringed the otherwise bald head of its proprietor. Mr. Giles Houndly sat with his legs under his mahogany. He was already discussing a bottle of port ; but the empty chair opposite, the wine-glasses and damask napkin symmetrically arranged, as also the display of dessert, a little beyond the almonds and raisins of every-day life, indicated to a discerning mind, the coming of a visitor. Mr. Houndly digested his dinner with the easy conscience of a man who had done his duty to the world in general, and to Farnorth in particular. Alone and unaided he had represented Justice on the bench that day. He had balanced the scales with an unerring finger. Two votaries of Bacchus, taken red handed, had been condemned to A Trap for Information. 13 imprisonment, and four luckless urchins convicted of turnip stealing would writhe under the birch to-morrow. " Turnip stealing," said the balancer of the scales, as he pronounced sentence on the culprits, " is an easy road to the gallows, and drunkenness so much the vice and curse of this district, that if I had my way I would withdraw the licences from all the beer-shops in the neighbourhood." The rich red juice in the old-fashioned cut-glass decanter was fast disappearing and transferring some of its colour to the face of the imbiber as it made its transit. " What on earth keeps Sparkles, I wonder," he murmured impatiently ; " I said six o'clock sharp. He can be punctual enough when he has money to earn. So, here he is at last. Why Sparkles, how late you are ; I was just giving you up." The tardy guest, a handsome man of more than middle age, was not very profuse in his apologies. " Sit down, sir ; sit down," said bustling Giles. " Which wine will you take ? Try the port — it is genuine thirty-four. You will not drink such wine, sir, every day out of your six-and-eight- pences, I know. And now Sparkles — I say — is the news true ? All Farnorth rings with it." 14 Farnorth. "What news do you mean ?" " Oh come now, that won't do sir ; as if you had not heard all about it. Helped to draw out the new lease, too, I'll be bound. Sam Gravell, sir, is the very luckiest old rascal in Christendom. Here's the lease of that swindling mine of his just run out after half Farnorth had burnt their fingers with it, and down comes a man, from goodness knows where, who applies for a new lease, and offers at the same time an increase of dead rental. The man must be a fool sir, whatever else he may be. Whom will he bank with, I wonder? The Blankshire Company, I suppose. I advise the old birds to look sharp about them, for ten to one the man is an adventurer." " The Blankshire Company are not remarkable for keeping their eyes shut." " No, to give them their due, that they're not," assented Giles ; " but wide awake as they are they have been taken in before now, so I repeat sir, they had better not be too confiding. Gravell will be perky enough now sir. He was rather down in the mouth when the last company would not have the lease renewed. They tell me this adventurous gentleman wishes to rent Becklands. It will take no small income to keep that place up Gossip and Scandal. 15 decently, I can tell you. Has Croesus tumbled in amongst us, sir ? " "Keally I cannot say," replied his visitor. " You seem to know a vast deal more about the matter than I do. And now I must say good-bye, for I have to call at Kose Cottage on my way home." " What ! business with the old ladies so late as this ? I should think they might wait until to-morrow morning. I suppose they are in the Slough of Despond for the loss of their big soldier. They say, sir, that Miss Mary bewails him more like a mother than an aunt." I must observe en 'passant that " they say " was Mr. Houndly's Mrs. Harris. Now the principal mission of that puppet of the immortal Mrs. Gamp was, if I remember aright, to sound the amiable lady's praises on all and every occasion. The " they say " of Giles Houndly was an ambiguity under the which he sheltered himself when he shot that venom which prudence otherwise would have compelled him to restrain. . "I believe both the good ladies were greatly distressed to part with him," said Mr. Sparkles, gravely ; " and no wonder — I do not know a finer fellow breathing than Horace Snowe." 1 6 Farnorth. " Horace Snowe, or Horace anything, sir, would do just as well, I expect. Well, if you must go, you must ; so good evening to you sir. As close as wax," lie added when his visitor was out of hearing. "I would have seen him somewhere though before I would have decanted -my thirty- four for him, had I suspected he would have been so deuced mute. However, I shall hear more about this affair to-morrow. The town was full enough of it this morning." And the town was full enough of it the next morning, and for several mornings afterwards. Farnorth had not. had such a pleasant morsel of gossip for months. 'Weasle Mine — the royalty dues were payable to Mr. Samuel Gravell — had been the bete noire of almost every speculator in the district. The first company who took the lease — it is more than twenty years ago now — were cautious men, who, after a short time wriggled out of the business, contriving to dispose of their shares at a considerable profit. Giles Houndly was one of the wrigglers. Their suc- cessors soon wearied of the Weasle and got rid of their shares and plant, at a dead loss, to some enterprising adventurers. This last company, to give them their due, battled manfully against the T/ie Liberal Stranger. 17 water, the rock, and the running sand, which were the agreeable characteristics of the Weasle. These three giants proved, however, in the end too strong for them, and for years before the lease had expired the luckless tenants had not at- tempted to raise an ounce of ore ; but were glad enough to get off by paying a dead rental to their landlord. No wonder Farnorth cackled considerably when another voluntary victim to its Minotaur appeared en scene. The victim, attended by a black servant clad in quiet livery, had arrived at the Crescent Hotel in High Street, some three or four months ago. It was the sable accompaniment that acted as a flourish of trumpets, and arrested popular atten- tion in the first instance. Mine host and hostess of the Crescent Hotel, spoke loudly in praise of the stranger. Never had they had such a liberal lodger. In the eyes of these simple people, he was a Monte Christo. He certainly had an amazing amount of energy. He lost no time in securing Becklands, when he heard that desirable ready-furnished family mansion, with its lands and tenements, was to let. As soon as he had concluded his arrangements, he took his departure vol. i. o 18 Farnorth. from Farnorth; and when he loomed on that place again, it was as the master of Becklands, in company with his young daughter, her French governess, and a modest retinue. All " offcoines," our red-ochred peasantry said. The Sunday after their arrival, every eye in the parish church was focussed in eager expect- ancy on the Beckl&nds pew. Every eye was doomed to disappointment, for no one appeared, and whispers of " Papistry," and what was scarcely worse "Atheism," swept like a sirocco down the aisles. The storm was allayed, and all suspicion of a lack of orthodoxy put to flight on the fol- lowing Sunday. The new arrival, his young daughter, and her French governess, occupied the large square pew, and the two former were atten- tive auditors to the good pastor's discourse. Mr. Harding — so the present tenant of Beck- lands was named — was a tall, handsome man, of possibly some fifty years of age. His eyes and his hair were so dark, as to give him almost a foreign aspect. There was force and character in his face, and also strength as well as symmetry in his muscular frame. His daughter, a slight, graceful girl, just entering her teens, greatly re- sembled him. Madame was a buxom -looking per- Prce- Waterloo Prejudices. 19 son, essentially Parisian in her appearance. Her toilette was unexceptionable. Her bonnet, her shawl, her dress with its many flounces, her gloves of such perfect fit, her parasol in such exquisite taste, absolutely brought tears into the eyes of Miss Benton, the principal modiste in Farnorth. Madame yawned through the service, and did not listen very attentively to the sermon. She understood very little English, she said ; but I am afraid if she had been ever so proficient, she would not have made much effort to pick up the pearls that were so plentifully scattered from the pulpit. She surveyed the congregation with weary dis- contented eyes. What wretched toilettes! she thought, with a shrug of her ample shoulders. How was she to endure her triste existence; "paraii ces sauvages." Some of these blonde Meeses would be pretty well if they were • • bien mise ; " but dressed as they were — " Ma foi ! " The congregation in their turn, being soaked and saturated in the prse- Waterloo prejudices against our lively neighbours across the Channel, were gazing at her with distended nostrils, and curling lips, thinking what a dreadfully artificial creature she was. Now to do poor Madame only c2 20 Farnorth. moderate justice, apart from the modish bonnet, dress, gloves, &c., &c, she was, I devoutly believe, very much as nature had made her ; but Farnorth doubted her from the crown of her head to the sole of her foot. They doubted her hair, her eyes, her eyebrows, her forehead, her cheeks, her lips, her teeth. It was all art, Farnorth said. No one called on the new-comers. Farnorth has learnt some lessons : she does not admit into her society any person who does not bring letters of introduction to some one in the neighbourhood. The first, second, and third formation of our upper strata, are all equally tenacious on this point. I am obliged to confess the Becklands people were, to all appearance, very contented under this social taboo. Madame, attended by a neat groom, took daily drives with her young pupil, and Mr. Harding was evidently entirely absorbed in his new undertaking. The borers were very busy on the Weasle Mine for many months, without any great result, and popular interest was gradually fading away, when it was startled into new life again by a report, that in one of their beer houses, the Weasle miners had boasted they had come upon, "sic a sop o' ore, as the like had nivver been hard tell on by Treasure Trove. 21 any o' t' mouldy warps in t' nebburhood." This report was, in more elegant language, subse- quently confirmed by both the 'Farnorth Adver- tiser ' and the ' District Reflector.' [It was the contradictory statements in those two weekly vehicles of local information, which led to that celebrated correspondence in their several papers, between Scylla and Charybdis, which you must most of you remember. What wonderful letters they were ! How rich in italics. How keenly cutting the cool irony of Scylla ; how courageously and savagely personal the abuse of Charybdis! Since the days of Junius and Sir William Draper, we have never had anything at all equal to them,] When first the news of the treasure trove reached the ears of Giles Houndly, Esq., that gentleman was in a great way, and discharged man} 7 explosive syllables ; but Nature, in her bene- volence, has planted the dock very closely to the nettle, and the healing herb shortly presented itself to our friend suffering from the sting occa- sioned by the sudden prosperity of his neighbour, and rubbed out the smart, by suggesting the deli- cious thought of the mortification this intelligence would bring with it to the last company who had exhausted so much time and money on the 22 Farnorth. Farnorth Minotaur ; straightway Giles rushed to those unhappy moles, stamped his stick on the ground, cleared his throat, and spoke in his own pleasant and peculiar fashion : — "Ahem ! this man lias got brains, sir, whoever he may be. They say the mine has had no chance before, because it has never been properly worked. What do you think ? I always said the ore lay where they have now found it, and I told What's-his-name so, and wanted him to sink a shaft there when we first started the mine years ago, but he was so mighty clever and would have his own way." It was pretty soon evident that these three giants, who had lorded it so grandly and tyranni- cally for so many years, had no chance whatever against the war persistently waged against them by the present proprietor of the Weasle. Mighty engines sucked up giant Water, and forced it all red, hot, and bubbling, to the surface, to find a new home where best it could. Gunpowder, unspariDgly used, blew giant Kock into fragments ; and as to giant Sand, layers of cold, wet, uncom- fortable straw quite spoilt its holiday, and clamped its running propensities. Farnorth looked on in amazement. The time-honoured buckets, the tumble-tree, the windlas and gin, gave place to Effects of Good Fortune. 23 the bogie and cage worked by steam-engines of goodness knows what power. Trams were laid to jthe nearest port, and the quantity of ore shipped in one year from the Weasle dwarfed into nothing- ness the combined efforts of all the iron-ore companies for twenty miles round. " Money is character," saith the sage, and even the prospect of it will go a long way towards giving you a good one in this discrimi- nating world of ours. Very soon after Mr. Hard- ing's good fortune was officially confirmed, the first clique of our Farnorth Society decided, in solemn conclave, that it would perhaps be better after all, you know, to waive all ceremony, and call upon these people. The second and third cliques, with their different declensions, only waited the decision of their leader to follow ab- jectly in its footsteps, and so it came to pass, that for the space of three days, the woolly-headed Cerberus at Becklancls had nothing else to do but to open the door to visitors, and receive an avalanche of pasteboard into his black paws. The Hardings expanded into sudden popularity. Mr. Harding was so essentially the gentleman, Farnorth said ; his daughter Zoe, was such a lovely charming child. Even Madame was per- 24 Farnorth. mitted to bask in this universal sunshine. The matrons and spinsters carefully drew out their French, that had been laid up for the last twenty., years, and aired it for the benefit of this lady. What a cruel war they waged with these moods and tenses, these good people. How superbly unmindful were they of any concordance between nouns and adjectives. Bless them, how thoroughly British they were. Madame stared and shuddered slightly as the odd sentences fell on her ear, but she said "Oui, oui," to everything, and smiled and showed the even row of teeth which all Farnorth had pronounced false, but which all Farnorth was willing enough to accept as genuine now. Miss Mary Snowe. 25 CHAPTEK III. I am not one of those who entertain the opinion that beauty in women must of necessity vanish with their youth. In spite of Mr. Nathaniel Haw- thorne, who has loaded our English matrons with such coarse abuse, I contend that some amongst them are quite as lovely as their daughters. And why this preamble? Simply to herald this assertion : — I still consider Mary Snowe one of the loveliest women in Farnorth. When first she came to our neighbourhood, and when she, her sister, and little Horace were shunned as lepers, my sailor brother, Fred, fell hopelessly and helplessly in love with her sweet face. There was not the shadow of a chance for him from the very first, as I plainly saw, but he would not see that. How abjectly he coaxed and conciliated her nephew. What showers of Noah's arks, balls, trumpets, and sweetmeats, he poured upon that very handsome young gentleman! 26 Farnorih. Mary Snowe did her best, in her gentle, womanly way, to ward off a climax, but Fred was too far gone for any thought of pride, or amour propre, and hope too afflicted him with mental cataract. He drifted into a proposal in no time. The in- evitable answer was very kindly spoken, but it well nigh broke the poor lad's heart for all that, and Fred is a bachelor to this good day ! There was another inhabitant of Farnorth who succumbed to her many charms, but this was later, not in her pariah days. When the master of Gothic Hall became a widower, indeed imme- diately after he had placed that staring monument in our parish church, sacred to the memory of Jane, the beloved and deeply lamented wife of Giles Houndly, Esq., J.P., (second marriages are the natural sequence of these tablets in general) ; he also offered his hand and fortune, with what success you may easily imagine, to sweet Mary Snowe. He has made her the target for the worst of his venomous arrows ever since. * * * * It is a lovely day in summer, and the roses at the cottage are in full bloom. The maiden sisters are walking in their pretty garden. There is a great contrast between them, as much in appear- The Fair Geologist. 27 ance as in character. Miss Alathea is several years older than her sister Mary. She is a tall dark woman, her face is thin and worn, her black hair flecked with white ; she looks the age she honestly registered last census. She nibbles a good deal at the arts and sciences, but never gets a very plentiful meal therefrom. Farnorth pronounces her blue. She prides herself on the purity of her English, and rarely condescends to conven- tional colloquialism. Her phrases are rich with the eloquence of the penny-a-liner. She has latterly taken up geology, and carries a little hammer with her in her daily walks. She taps the blue lime- stone, and murmurs, " Decidedly fossiliferous form- ation," much to the awe of her admiring sister. The classic regularity of Mary Snowe's features will make her a beauty to her dying day. Her eyes are of that deep violet-blue, against which time is powerless. There is a soft wintry bloom on her fair cheek. If a few silver threads mingle with the sheen of her abundant hair, the pale intruders scarcely dare show themselves in its golden wealth. She is of the middle height, and her feet and hands are fairy-like. In every word, in every movement, Nature has written " gentle- woman " in her strongest characters. 28 Farnorth, Miss Alatliea holds a flower in her hand. She is imparting valuable information to her sister. She is deep in botanical classifications ; suddenly she stops and looks at her watch. "Did you not say, my dear Mary," she said, " that you proposed visiting that unfortunate John Dalton to-day ? If so, I must advise you to expedite your movements. The dinner-hour is rapidly approaching, and you know I do not approve of your taking post-prandial exertion." " I will go at once," replied Mary, perhaps not altogether unwilling to break up the floral lecture. "I am very sorry to hear poor John has met with this accident. He is a decent honest man enough, civil in his manners, too. Altogether different to his wife, for I must confess I stand in very considerable awe of Ann Dalton." "Timidity is the one great defect in your organization, my dear Mary. It distresses me to see you so frequently overcome by this idiosyn- crasy. Would you like me to accompany you on this mission of charity, my love ?" " Oh no, thank you," said Mary, rather hastily. Miss Alathea was not by any means so popular amongst the poor people as her sister. They had a contempt for her fine phrases — pronounced A Charitable Visit. 29 her to be " a sad flighty ade body," and were at no pains to conceal this opinion whenever they met her. Mary opened John Dalton's cottage door timidly enough. Her first greeting was not calculated to reassure her. Ann Dalton, a very handsome black- eyed woman, knelt on the ground, and was busily engaged polishing the fire-irons — cleanliness was one of her virtues. " You might ha' wiped yer feet afore you kom in, I think," she said. " I often wonder what sic fowk as ye were sent into t' warld for. Nobbut ut mak' a lot o' muck for poor bodies ut clean efter." " I ought to have wiped my feet, Ann, cer- tainly," said her visitor, mildly. " How is your husband to-day ? " "You may see for yoursel'," was the rough answer, as she pointed to a bed in the inner room where the invalid was lying. He was of gigantic mould. His features heavy enough, but lighted up occasionally with a very pleasant smile. A mass of ore had fallen upon him and injured him a good deal. A less powerful man would have been killed by the accident. 30 Farnorth. " How are you, John ? " said Mary. "Middling, ma'am, thank you. Nobbut my chest is a bit bruised. T' doctor says I shall kom round gradely." "Thou'll du na sic thing," said his amiable helpmate. " Thou's in a bad way, an' like enoo ut dee. Thou sud see t' parson again. It's time thou sud think o' sic like things, for mind, thou'll nit gang tramping through t' other spot as thou gangs tramping here, my lad. Na nice lile tit- bits for thee thar. Thou'll have to stand back an' tak' t' scraps." Mary shuddered as she listened to words that seemed to her rank blasphemy, but which, never- theless, were not intended for such. John appeared pretty well accustomed to this homely kind of religious instruction. " I've takken tent o' sic like things mair than thou thinks on, my lass," he said; "and now gang on wi' thy cleaning, an' let Miss Mary read to me a lile bit." He listened patiently enough, and made his own simple remarks, and drew comfort after his own quaint fashion from the consolatory words of the Good Book. When the lecture was over, Mary once more An Unsophisticated Housewife. 31 addressed Ann Dalton. " I am sorry to hear you have lost your mother since I saw you last," she said. "Ay, she's gone, poor ade body. I laid her down coomfortable wi' hot beer an' good wheaten breead. T' coffin was nobbut plain dale ; but it was sa weel steeaned, aw t' nebburs thowt it was oak, they did for sure-ly," and she smiled com- placently as she thought of the grim deception. [Well, perhaps we are none of us ill-pleased when our plain deal passes for oak.] "Has Mr. Harding sent to enquire after your husband?" continued Mary. "He met with this accident at the Weasle Mine, did he not?" " Ay, an' t' maister's sent mair than yance ; an' what's better nor that, he's sent some brass ; but he's gitten enoo to think on at yam poor chap, for he's like ut lose his bonny barn;" and a slight moisture dimmed for a moment the vixen's eyes. " Indeed ! " said Mary. " I am so very sorry to hear this. What is the matter with the child!" " Scarlet fever. They've gitten Dr. Banques, but t' seems as t' maister doesn't reckon mich on him, an sa he's sent a man o' horseback reet away 32 Farnortk across t' sands ut taligraph, I think they caw it, for a Lunnon doctor. The poor lile lass has gitten naibody about her but sarvant lasses, faffling offcomes that kna nowt; an' French Madam is like enoo ut pusson t' barn wi' paddocks an' snails, an' sic outlandish niessments." " It is very distressing," said Mary. " Do you know how long she has been ill ? " "A week, or happen mair. She tuk t' fever fra Dick Allonby's childer, as is aw laid up in it. Miss Zoey hard tell as they were badly, an' sa she cawed wi' some jellies an' oranges. French Madam must ha' been clean daft ut let t' barn gang in amang them. T' jabbering body's in a rare way now, an' no matter on her. Poor lile Zoey, she's just t' same age on our Polly ; " and this time a very thick haze obscured the fierce dark eyes. " Our Polly " was the only child of John and Ann Dalton. She was marvellously pretty, and occupied the one soft corner in her savage mother's heart. Both the parents were most ambitious for her, and denied themselves of many comforts in order that she might receive that " book laming " in which they felt themselves to be deficient. Proofs of her accomplishments already adorned Accomplishments of " Our Polly." 33 the cottage walls. A large sampler, framed and glazed, bearing a legend in bright scarlet charac- ters, informing you that this, was the work of Mary Dal ton, aged eleven years, occupied a prominent position. I am afraid that these accomplishments, as also the advancement in " book laming," had not conduced to a proper observance of the fifth commandment ; for the clever young person, aged eleven years, had been heard to declare that she " reckoned nowt o' fath-er and mother, for they dudn't kna waur t' Caspian Sea was ! " Mary quitted Ann Dalton's cottage with a heavy heart, and a much better opinion of that handsome virago than she had hitherto enter- tained. The Misses Snowe had not joined in that rush to Becklands of which I have spoken in the last chapter. They knew nothing whatever of the master of that establishment; but an intimacy, dating from the merest accident, had sprung up between the gentle inmates of Rose Cottage and Zoe Harding. Madame had drawn up the pony- carriage more than once at the pretty rustic gate, and alighted there with her young pupil. The maiden ladies did not murder the French language after the manner of the matrons and spinsters of VOL. I. D 34 Farnorth. Farnorth. They had lived abroad in their youth and were able to make themselves intelligible to the Parisian. Madaine was very gracious to them both, but more especially to Mary, to whom she condescended to give valuable hints in the matter of toilette, &c, &c. Zoe had quite fascinated the sisters ; there was a freshness and naive grace about the child that was irresistible to the re- cluses. The thought that this bright being was ill, suffering, and in danger, was inexpressibly painful to Mary, and so paled her fair face as quite to shock her elder sister when she joined her at dinner. Tears gathered in the eyes of the amiable blue- stocking when she heard of Zoe's dangerous illness. "We will send and enquire at once," she said, " perhaps the reports are exaggerated." " I do hope so," replied Mary, " she was so full of life and happiness only ten days ago. I never met so joyous a creature." " So intelligent too," said Miss Alathea. " Do you remember, Mary, how attentively the dear child listened to the information I was fortunately able to give her on tertiary strata? and how delighted she was with that fine specimen of the Science and Sympathy. 35 cornu ammonis which I showed her? The am- monite of St. Hilda is found in this district. This fossil lies in strata of limestone and clay;, and in argillaceous iron ore," continued the learned lady, quoting at random from her last geological authority. Now, if truth must be told, I believe that while Miss Alathea was dilating on strata and ammonites, Zoe was too much interested in watching the playful manoeuvres of Mary's kitten to hear one single word either about tertiary formations or cornu ammonis. The fair lecturer was so plea- santly mounted on this her last scientific hobby as to be quite unaware of the sad fact. " I don't know, my dear," added Miss Alathea, who had her foot well in the stirrup now, " whether I was sufficiently explicit in demonstrating the distinction between the ammonis obtusus and the ammonis varians. You will observe that, whereas " "You must excuse my interrupting you, dear Alathea," said Mary; "but at present I really cannot think of anything but this poor child." " Of course I am quite as sorry as you can be," said the elder sister, rather tartly [it is not pleasant to be pulled to the ground when one d2 36 Farnorth. is fairly mounted] ; "bat after sending to make enquiries, I do not very well see what else we can do." "I was thinking, dear," said gentle Mary, "whether it would be considered intrusive if I were to call at Becklands and offer to assist in nursing Zoe. Madame is very kind-hearted, I know, and very much attached to her pupil ; but I cannot think she will be of much use in such a case, and you know when Horace " This was an unfortunate allusion, and induced a silence of some minutes on the part of both ladies. Miss Alathea was the first to speak. " I do not know," she said, " whether it would be considered altogether decorous. You are a single woman, and Mr. Harding is a widower. We are alone and unprotected, and cannot there- fore be too particular. Farnorth is so much given to gossip." "I think my age and grey hairs are a suf- ficient protection against scandal," rejoined her sister. " Grey hairs, indeed!" said Miss Alathea, rather indignantly adjusting her coiffure. [I don't think we, any of us, care to be considered too old for scandal.] "However, you know best, my dear," Sisterly Advice. 37 she continued. " I will leave you to act as your kind heart dictates ; but if you do go, I advise you to walk very slowly, for, as I said before, I greatly disapprove of your taking post-prandial exertion." 38 Farnorth. CHAPTEK IV. Me. Hakding was alone in his library. His face was haggard and worn, and his eyes heavy with watching. The London oracle had not as yet arrived, and Dr. Banques, a little piqued to think his skill was considered unequal to cope with the case, had quitted rather suddenly and indignantly half-an-hour ago, pleading an unavoidable en- gagement. Zoe's young life hung on a thread. When African Sam opened the door to Mary's timid summons, the circles round his eyes showed like red rings in his black face. There had not been a dry eye in Becklands for two days. Mary felt very nervous when she was ushered into the library, and there confronted its tall stately inmate. His stiff though courteous re- ception did not allay her tremor. "To what," he enquired, with a rechauffe of the manners of Le Grand Monarque, "was he indebted for the An Angelic Visitor. 39 honour of this visit? Perhaps Miss Snowe was not aware of the affliction that had befallen him. His daughter Zoe " and here, thoughts of the danger in which this his only darling lay, for a moment choked his utterance. His agitation enabled Mary to regain her com- posure, and she quietly explained to him the purport of her visit. The hard lines in his face relaxed, and his stateliness melted like snow in the sunshine, as the gentle speaker developed her kind intentions. " I have had experience in more than one case similar to this," she said ; " my nephew had the fever in its very worst form when he was a child. We were fortunate in securing the advice of the first physician in the kingdom. With the aid of God's mercy I believe it was Dr. 's judicious treatment that saved our boy's life. I can remember all his instructions to this day. If you will trust me I am persuaded I shall be able to do dear Zoe some good." "You are, indeed, kind," said Mr. Harding. "I have telegraphed for Dr. Halley, and am in hourly expectation of his coming. You will think me prejudiced, I dare say, but as I have little faith in country practitioners I distrusted Dr. 40 Farnorth. Banques, and I fear I have given the good man considerable offence. I will prove my confidence in you, Miss Snowe," he added, "by asking you at once to come with me to the sick-room." Zoe was tossing restlessly on her bed. Her pretty face was all red and disfigured. Poor Madame, looking ten years older from her utter neglect of toilette, knelt at the bedside of her pupil, and entreated her mignonne, her chou, her petite chatte to sleep, in hysterical tones that would have kept awake the seven sleepers. There was a sudden light in the poor fevered eyes of the little girl as they fell upon Mary's fair face. Madame saw that momentary sunshine, and a jealous gleam came into her black orbs, which augured badly for the visitor's welcome. "What does Mees Snowe want here?" she asked, and something very like " impertinence " hissed through her closed teeth. A few polite words from the master of the house checked the coming storm. Mary had for the first time an opportunity of admiring that polished charm of manner, which subsequently made Mr. Harding the most popular man in Farnorth. " Madame stood in need of rest," he said ; " her attention to his child had been most The Patient 41 unwearied. He must insist on her taking some repose. She must relinquish her post to Miss Snowe, who had kindly undertaken to relieve her," and Monsieur bowed conciliated Madame out of the room. Mary took her place at the bedside. Her first care was speedily to remove half a ton of blankets which Madame had piled upon her patient. Zoe's plaintive demands for water were now no longer met with tender denial. She was permitted to drink the draught for which she craved. The new nurse then poured some drops of her in- fallible remedy into a cup, and gave the medicine to the little sufferer, who, too ill to speak, smiled, and swallowed the mixture in simple faith. Soon the anxious watcher saw a slight moisture spread its healing over the fevered skin, and presently a gentle sleep fell on the weary eyelids. * * * * Dr. Banques was not very long in recovering from his attack of pique. After all, it was rather a fine thing you know to hold a consultation with a famous London practitioner ; and the worthy fellow took the opportunity of alluding to it at every house he visited that day. " I am obliged to hurry away," he said to each of his patients 42 Farnorth. in turn, " I have an important case to attend in conjunction with the celebrated Dr. Halley, of whom you may perhaps ha^e heard." ' Odd enough, the London oracle was just alight- ing at the entrance gate to Becklands as Dr. Banques's one-horse brougham drew up there. The two gentlemen quickly fraternised, and walked up the avenue together. A travelling carriage passed them, it was coming very rapidly from the house. A be- whiskered foreign-looking man leant for a moment from the window to give some instruction to the driver. "Good heavens!" suddenly exclaimed the Lon- don doctor, and, without uttering another word, he broke away from his companion, 'and com- menced running after the retreating carriage. His chase was not attended with success. In a few moments he had rejoined Dr. Banques, his res- piration considerably increased by the unwonted exertion. " Have I rightly understood the telegram ? " he gasped ; "ami summoned to attend a case of scarlet fever ? " "Most certainly," replied Dr. Banques, "an undoubted case of rosalia. This is the seventh Dr. Halley arrives. 43 day since the patient's seizure, and I this morning observed symptoms of cuticular exfoliations. I never saw a clearer case of rosalia " (the honest man would not have said scarlet fever for the world). " Ah, yes, indeed ! " said the Londoner, who was evidently quite distrait "Do you know that gentle- man who passed us so rapidly just now, sir?" he enquired suddenly. "Not in the least," replied the country Galen. It was clear that the London doctor thought he himself did. He began an animated conversation on the subject, which was at its height when the two medicos had reached the hall-door of Beck- lands. Mr. Harding was standing there, and came eagerly forward. "Dr. Halley, I presume ; you are indeed welcome. Dr. Banques, I am delighted to have secured your valuable assistance as well. I am glad to say I can give you a better account of your patient. There appears to me a decided improvement within the last few hours." "Very happy to hear of it, I am sure," said Dr. Halley. " Excuse me a moment, Mr. Harding, I have been quite startled by the sight of an old familiar face — at the last place in the world too 44 Farnorth. I should have expected to see it. I was just telling our friend here I passed my noviciate at Paris, and it was there 1 first made the ac- quaintance of Denassie. I have not seen him for years until to-day." The polite master of Beeklands bowed, and evidently waited for further information. " When I saw him just now, I did my best to overtake him, but " "Keally I do not know to whom you allude," interrupted Mr. Harding, with a smile. " Why, to the gentleman who passed us so quickly in a travelling carriage, only a few moments ago," replied the doctor. " Oh, that gentleman," said Mr. Harding, " that is Monsieur Feme, a French negotiant, who is connected with the iron trade. He wishes me to enter into a contract to — but really, gentlemen, such business details cannot possibly interest you. We will, if you please, lose no time in visiting my daughter," and he marshalled them up the hand- some staircase. " I never saw such an extraordinary resem- blance," puffed out Dr. Halley, as he toiled hastily after his host. " I could have sworn it was Denassie, and he had no common face either." The Potent Remedy. 45 Zoe bad awakened from that sleep which had fallen on the fever, like dew on the parched earth. Her breathing was quiet and regular. The life current no longer surged in her veins. When Dr. Halley took her little hand in his, and pressed his fingers on her pulse, he nodded assurance to the anxious father that all danger was now over. " Your daughter has been most judiciously treated," he said, "she will be well in a few days." Mary Snowe had glided noiselessly from the room when the two doctors entered. " The very prescription I was about to write," continued Dr. Halley, as his nose rested for a moment on the bottle the last nurse had left on the table. " And I see, sir," he said, addressing Dr. Banques, " you have ordered port wine. Really, Mr. Harding, I am of no use here, your daughter could not be in better hands." Dr. Banques was staring very much as the clown does in a pantomime, when harlequin's wand has effected some sudden changes. Port wine ! He would just as soon have thought of ordering his patient poison. And then this bottle — the contents of which were so highly approved of by the London authority. Had it 46 Farnorth. dropped from the clouds ? Was he, James Banques, F.K.C.S., awake or dreaming ? He looked at Mr. Harding, but that gentleman was bowing and smiling a courteous acquiescence to the London oracle's decision. " If the cap fits, wear it," saith the proverb, and when a wreath of laurel is thrust upon your temples, are you bound to remove it ? Dr. Banques blushingly consented, like a wise man, to the halo round his bald crown. [Mr. Giles Houndly was very garrulous on the subject of Mary's visit to Becklands. "A deep dodge of that old maid. A very artful dodge, sir," he said ; " but Harding is a great deal too old a bird to be caught with such chaff as that. Ahem ! Harding is up to a thing or two. He was not born to-day. There is something uncommonly mysterious about him, but he is wide awake, and no mistake. That little game of Miss Mary's won't do, sir. Mark my words, it won't pay at any price." * * * * A few weeks, and Zoe was once more bright and blooming as ever. If her visits to Kose Cottage had been tolerably frequent before her illness, they were trebled now. In order to be near her dear, pretty Miss Mary, she submitted patiently Friendly Counsel. 47 to the geological lecture daily given by Miss Ala- thea ; and what was more, she even listened silently to a plentiful sprinkling of unpleasant home truths, administered likewise by that lady, who was a believing disciple of the creed which teaches that bitters are at all times a wholesome accom- paniment to the sweets with which the cup of life is so full to overflowing. "Le plus grand effort de l'amitie, " writes La Rochefoucauld, " n'est pas de montrer nos defauts a notre ami, c'est de lui faire voir les siens." I think many of our friends are kind enough to make some such efforts for us wayfarers as we toil along the grande route. Plunge into a bath of golden rules and maxims, and some of the precious dust must perforce adhere, just as the robbers' guineas stuck to Cassam Baba's quart pot. Zoe, no doubt, greatly benefited by the occasional immersion in ad- mirable advice and counsel, to which she was submitted by her self-constituted mentor after she had dutifully swallowed the dose of bitters I have mentioned. At her own home the little maid was allowed to grow into womanhood very much as Nature willed. In her father's eyes the child was faultless. I am 48 Farnorth. afraid Madame took more pains to impart a good accent than to instil good principles. She was much more intent on forming her pupil's figure than her character. " La petite aura une taille cambre'e et vraiment charmante," she said, " ce serait ve'ritablenient une honte de lui faire mettre des corsets." And the good lady seemed to think it would be " ve'ritablenient une honte" also to put any stay on la petite s actions. And so very little effort was made to bend this young twig in the way it should go — how would the tree incline ? Who knows ? Perhaps all the straighter for this lack of training. We do our best with our pruning knife — we train up here — we cut down there. God help us! How many healthy branches, how many tender shoots do we lop off in the process. " If," as Miss Alathea said [the geologist drew all her metaphors from her last bantling] " the rich ore of Zoe's nature was crossed with veins of baser clay, the metal itself was genuine, and there was no conventional deposit on it." She was passionate and self-willed, this little Spanish girl, but false seeming was unknown to her. She was proud and rather haughty, but no reptile jealousies and envyings — no crawling spites, so deprecated Growth of " The Weasle" 49 by Mr. Sala — left their slimy trail on any of her words or actions. I have said that doubtless Zoe greatly benefited by the has Ileus teaching; but I am inclined to think that Mary's practice effected more than Alathea's precept. Christian charity, which flings its mantle over human failing, and is the last to cast the stone — loving tender sympathy given alike to sinner and to saint — a total abnegation of self — the soft answer which turns away wrath ; these are the flowers that perfume Mary Snowe. Who could breath an atmosphere so pure, and not gain moral strength ? The master of Becklands (he was no longer a tenant, but the proprietor of that desirable man- sion, which he had purchased, Farnorth declared, with six months' profit from his mine) greatly approved of his daughter's intimacy with the spinster sisters. His gratitude to Mary was very great, and would have found a vent in princely gifts, but she would accept of nothing. The Weasle was grown to a leviathan size now ; " a mere torso as yet" its owner said, " the limbs would come in time." But the torso performed wonders, if money-making be a marvel. The modest establishment at Becklands was doubled — VOL. I. E 50 Farnorth. Plush and Powder condescendingly took the pasteboards from admiring morning callers. When Zoe was at home during the holidays — Madame took her to school and remained with her the whole time — it was no longer the quiet pony- carriage which passed you in the long avenue. Prancing horses splashed you with mud, and Madame's toilette and Zoe's pretty face showed to advantage in a barouche, the like of winch had not been seen since the palmy days when the Plan- tagenets reigned absolute monarchs of Farnorth. And what dinners Mr. Harding gave ! No grim Barmecidal feasts such as were annually held at the houses of the county families, where, like the repast of Longfellow's Hidalgo, there was so much more table-cloth than meat. At Becklands the snowy damask (dinners a la Busse were unknown then) was nearly hidden with its wealth of costly dainties. Salmon at half-a-guinea a pound — peas, when each green globule must have cost a shilling — pine apples, thirty shillings apiece — Moet and Cliquot flowing like water. Farnorth was stricken dumb, but drank and devoured none the less for that. The county cedars waved their scanty branches in haughty envious astonishment at all this mushroom magnificence. The French Contract. 51 Mr. Harding took a great deal of trouble about that French contract of which he had spoken. He crossed the channel several times. " The guv'ner," said the head clerk and captain of the mine, who was a Cornish man, " always goes himself to treat with these frog-eating mossoos, but hang them, next to nothing ever comes of it." Monsieur Feme was evidently a difficult man to deal with ; for though it was more tljan three years now since his travelling carriage stopped at Becklands, he had purchased very little ore yet. Zoe hated to hear of these journeys — "You don't recover from those nasty Straits of Dover for a month, papa," she said. "I thought you were such a good sailor. Why will you go to France?" "I must extend my connection," replied her father ; " it will be all the better for you, Pussy." Mr. Giles Houndly was quite prostrate now before the Farnorth Croesus. The dinners at Becklands had overcome this worthy gentleman, and he toadied the giver of them no little. " We must have you on the bench, sir; the mining interest is not properly represented. Such men as you are a real boon to the country ; and your e 2 I IRRARY 52 Farnorth. daughter, sir, is an ornament to our town. Don't talk to me about ancient blood and good old county families. What have the Plantagenets done for us? A stuck-up proud lot, sir, up to their ears in debt, and as poor as church mice." [If you only knew how he had kotowed before these potentates !] " What we want, sir, are working men. Turn out the drones, say I. Give me the man who can not only make money, but has the spirit to spend it judiciously, too." And the speaker selected some choice green morsels of turtle, and provided for them comfortably. Still, in spite of all these fine words, I have very indifferently represented the character of the owner of Gothic Hall, if you for one moment imagine he spoke in equally flattering terms of his host as he did to him. The fumes of Cliquot and Moet had scarcely passed away — the salmon and peas were barely digested — when our amiable friend was clearing his throat and protesting to his Farnorth neighbours that — "This man's a parvenu, sir." [Who was your grandfather, Giles ?] " You don't see such vulgar ostentation amongst the really good families. The Plantagenets — and no one can deny their blood — were content to eat their salmon and Mr. Harding's Munificence. 53 cucumber at a Christian price. This man's silver is all new, any one can see that. The dishes are handled with his crest. His crest, forsooth ! He will be buying some ancestors next. Mark my words, sir, we shall see some of the Harding family, in long waists and periwigs, adorning the walls at Becklands. You can pick them up for next to nothing in Monmouth Street." It was not only the elite of Farnorth who pro- fited by this Danae of the Weasle. Golden drops fell in amongst the cottages, and were greedily picked up by the inmates. Mr. Harding's name headed every subscription. The 'Farnorth Ad- vertiser ' and the ' District Beflector ' had weekly to chronicle some act of munificence. Scylla and Chary bdis took up their pens again on this subject, and shed their ink like Britons. The fame of the master of Becklands extended far and wide, and at length some more than ordinary act of liberality found its way into one of the London papers. " Ahem ! they say he put it in himself, sir ! " quoth Giles Houndly. 54 Farnorth. CHAPTER V. It is the middle of November, and the modern Babylon wears that thick unbecoming veil which it frequently adopts in that month. Something not unlike vaporised pea-soup eclipses the bright- ness of the shop windows. It is midday, but all the lamps in the streets are lit, and shine very pale stars in the universal gloom. Carriages rattle along the slippery pavement, each indi- vidual vehicle being as the car of Juggernaut to timid provincials who venture on the crossings. Link-boys and sweepers drive a brisk trade, and hold their feast of coppers. In one of the streets leading from that quarter of the town which is tolerably fashionable now, but which was infinitely more so some years ago, there are several houses wherein you may obtain furnished apartments, if you like to pay pretty well for them. The rents of these houses are high, but the rooms are low — they are furnished A London Lodging-House. 55 in an imposing manner. There is plenty of glass and ormolu — also, there is a rich accumulation of dust and dirt. The owners of these establishments live in the simple faith of their forefathers. Mahogany four-posted bedsteads, with their heavy draperies, take up the greater part of the sleeping chambers. Your rest in these sepulchral domi- tories is not the balmy sleep of childhood ; but your landlady will utterly ignore those abnormal bumps on your face and hands which you dismally exhibit to her notice. Nay, if even your nocturnal hunt be successful, and you tri- umphantly show her the proofs of your prowess, she will blandly assure you that nothing of the kind exists in her apartments, and that they must have come in your luggage. The drawing-room floor of one of these houses was, on this November day, tenanted by three individuals, two ladies and a gentleman. Place aux dames. The elder lady, a faded blonde with insipid features, has a querulous aspect. She is complaining bitterly of London bread, London butter, London milk, London everything. Her washed-out blue eyes appeal constantly for sym- pathy; they are watery as the London milk, as she expatiates on the evils of her position. Her 56 Farnortk two companions pay very little attention to her plaintive wailing. The younger lady, who is lier daughter, is deep in the pages of a French novel. She does not resemble her mother, saving in this, that she is also fair. She is in the bloom of womanhood, and beautiful as a houri. The lord and master of these two women is a middle- aged man, short and spare ; his good looks are in the preterite. Time, that best of all depilatories, has bared his temples; he has the coiffure of Mephistopheles. His eyes are deep set, his under lip protrudes, the upper one is garnished with a thick moustache, dyed purple-black. What is his name ? Algernon Charles Silvester. He is the cadet of a very high and mighty family, which has a peer of the realm for its head. This head and all its inferior members spoke loudly in praise of Algy's cleverness, when that accomplished gentleman made his fortunate matri- monial coup — a hundred thousand pounds, and no settlements ! " Algy was always such a sharp, clever dog ;" but when the " sharp, clever dog " contrived in a very few years to make ducks and drakes of his unfettered plum, his reputation for ability vanished with his guineas. There are more unpleasant cold shoulders in The Cadet of a Noble Family. 57 the world than those of mutton, and this Algernon Charles very quickly discovered. He was not easily shaken off. He clung to his aristocratic connections like grim death for some time, and acquired during that period a facility in letter writing which astonished himself. Epistles with begging propensities are rarely acknowledged. Algernon wearied in due course of this one-sided correspondence, and the peer of the realm and the lesser magnates were no longer scared by a sight of " that confounded Algy's handwriting." When first Algernon's ship went down, flotsam and jetsam drifted to him in the shape of directorships to moribund companies; but these waifs and strays gradually disappeared, and for years now Algy has lived on his wits, and supported his wife and his daughter thereon. This scion of a noble house is on intimate terms with every leg in the racing calendar. His best pasturage has been derived from the turf. It was that lucky pot on the Goodwood which has enabled him to bring his family to town this dismal season. " We shall have this wretched fog all through November, I suppose," moaned the elder lady. " I can scarcely see across the table, although the 58 Farnorth. gas is lighted. I never slept all night, and I don't believe these are heat-bumps on my neck, whatever the landlady may say. What a miser- able breakfast I have had, nothing but bacon and this bread, which I dare say is half plaster- of-Paris. And they call this stuff cream ! I know the Londoners mix horses' brains with their milk. Oh dear, it makes me quite sick to think " " Drop it, Maria," cried her husband. " 'Gad, we have had enough of your whining for once. Clarry, where is the newspaper ? " The beauty lazily lifted her eyes from her book. " Close to your elbow," she said, and resumed her reading. There was a silence for some minutes. "Hallo!" suddenly exclaimed the gentleman. " Here is a go. Maria, have you heard anything lately of that precious brother of yours, who eloped with the barmaid from Cambridge thirty years ago ? " " You know very well I have not," said the lady testily. " When poor pa " "Hang it, say father, and don't bleat out pa, pa, like an elderly sheep with a cold in it's head." Family Matters. 59 "I always said papa, and I always will say papa," said his wife; "however, I can hold my tongue." "Threatened with a fit of the stubborns, eh? The complaint would be inconvenient to me, madam, just at present, so I must trouble you, if you please, to postpone it until you have given me all the information I require. Was not your brother christened Theodore Baynes ? " And there was that in the speaker's eye which compelled an answer. "Of course he was," replied his helpmate sulkily, " he was called after my maternal grand- father, Sir Theodore Baynes. When my brother disgraced the family by making that low marriage, grandpapa altered his will and left his money to an idiot asylum. I'm sure I don't know why he didn't leave it to me ; it was very hard only to git the diamonds." "Which I deposited with an accommodating relative shortly after we twain became one flesh," interposed her husband. " Never mind about the diamonds, Maria, at present, but tell me what became of your brother after his marriage." " I have told you over and over again that he got his living by teaching," said Mrs. Silvester 60 Farnorth. impatiently. " Pa would not give him a farthing, and how he contrived to exist I'm sure I don't know ; with his horrid vulgar wife too, whose temper was awful ; and who would have sold the very clothes off her back for gin." "It must have been a pleasant menage; poor devil ! " said Algy. " He brought it all on himself. And yet when pa died and left me all his money, people said it was a very hard case for Theodore. I'm sure it wasn't my fault. I always did my dooty to poor pa. I didn't disgrace the family. It was only fair I should git the money, but after all — " " It did no good, for you married me ; and I scattered all your shiners, and you and your only child are paupers. By Jove ! that has been your matins and vespers for the last twenty years. I have the song off by heart. Please to forget your grievances, and tell me if you ever saw or heard anything about your brother after your father's death." " He wrote to me once to tell me his horrid wife was dead. It is years and years ago now. I dare say he expected me to answer his letter, for he said he was about to start for South America; which of course meant ' Send me some money' — A Trace of the Lost One. 61 but I didn't. Poor papa made me promise to have nothing to do with him ; and no one can say I did not always do my dooty." " More especially when your dooty went hand- in-hand with your inclination," said her husband. " 'Gad Maria, you are a selfish party. It might perhaps be better for you now if you had not been quite so e&wtiful. Read that ; " and he pointed to a paragraph in the paper he held in his hand. " It is again our pleasing duty to record another munificent act of the Midas (if we may be per- mitted so to call him) of this district. Our readers will perceive that the subscription list to our new Town Hall is headed by the princely donation of five hundred pounds from Theodore Baynes Harding, Esq." — Farnorth Advertiser. " It must be him," said Madam, who was not on the best terms with Lindley Murray. " Only fancy ; and I have given him up for dead, years ago. Where on earth has he got his money ? It is very hard for poor me," she whimpered, " to think that he who disgraced the family should be rolling in wealth, and I, who always did my dooty and never gave papa a wrong word in my life — " and a deluge of tears followed. Mrs. Silvester, like a great many other good 62 Farnorth. people in this world, waxed lachrymose whenever she referred to her own goodness. "Oh," groaned the owner of this Niobe, "I thought you a precious dear bargain, Maria, when you had your hundred thousand pounds — what you are now ! — Leave the room madam. Confound it, I cannot stand that snivelling. Come, tramp at once." " Your mother grows more tiresome every day," he said to his daughter, when he had closed the door on his weeping wife. The beautiful girl shrugged her shoulders. " Cannot you tell me something new, if only by way of a change, papa ? " she said. " Well, what do you think of this rich uncle of yours who has suddenly come to light ?" " That he will prove very much like the rest of my rich uncles — by no means disposed to nepotism, if that big word includes nieces as well as nephews in its signification." "Confound the whole crew," said her father savagely, " they ought to be proud of such a beautiful niece, for you are beautiful, Clarry, and no mistake." " And much good has my beauty done me so far. I have been six years now in the matrimonial Clara Silvester. 63 market. I have been trotted out like a horse at a fair ; and with what result ? Mamma had ten offers before she was my age. She had a hundred thousand charms far more powerful than mine/' " You might have married well, over and over again, if you had followed my advice." " I followed your advice when I accepted that wretched young idiot, Sir Marmaduke Marma- duke," she said. "I need scarcely remind you what a miserable fiasco that was." " You might have netted one or two thousand pounds out of that affair if you would have been guided by me." " Thank you, I am not overdone with womanly delicacy and all that humbug, but I had an objection, I must confess, to figuring as the plaintiff in a breach of promise of marriage case. Moreover the thing would not have paid. Fancy the delight of the defendant's counsel when he swooped upon the fact that I was one year the senior of his client. What a magnificent oppor- tunity for forensic eloquence — confiding youthful simplicity, and this designing female, my lud ! Two thousand pounds ! Pshaw ! a discerning British jury would have barely awarded one farthing damages for my injured feelings." 64 Farnorth. " I am sure the number of letters you had," said her father — " Bah ! ne m'en parlez plus. Let us change the subject. You are thinking of writing to this resuscitated brother-in-law of yours." " Most decidedly I am. I flatter myself I can write as good a letter as most men," he added complacently. "Unanswered letters are not cheering things, as you have had occasion to know. If you will take my advice you will not write to this man." "Why not?" " Because by doing so you make your motives too transparent. He will conclude at once that you have seen his name in the paper in connection with this princely donation, and he will draw his own inferences with regard to your disin- terestedness." "By the Lord Harry you are right," said her father. " What a clever head you have, Clarry ; but something must be done, my child. I cannot afford to let any opportunity slip, for in spite of that lucky pot on the Goodwood, there's not too much shot in the locker, I can tell you." " I advise you to wait for a month or two, and then put an advertisemeDt in the ' Times.' " The Advertisement. 65 " Light dawns — I begin to twig. Proceed Ma- demoiselle Talleyrand." " I should word it ambiguously — stay — let me see." She smiled, took a pen from the table, and wrote rapidly — " To Theodore Baynes Harding, who left England five and twenty years ago : — A dying sister longs for the forgiveness of an injured brother." u I think that will do," she said, as she handed what she had written to her father. "You can give your address — Post-office, Yere Street. It will not do to be too explicit at first. Mamma always fancies herself to be dying, so she would act the role to perfection." "Admirable," cried her father, in an ecstasy. " Garry, you deserve to be made empress of all the Russias. Everything shall be done according to your directions, and between us we may make something out of this affair. Your mother is not altogether a Minerva, but she knows pretty well on which side her bread is buttered. I think I can make her play her part when the proper time comes. And now I must be off to Tattersall's. Can I do anything for you before I go ? " "Nothing," she said, "only let me finish Monte Christo in peace." vol. i. f 66 Farnorth. When her father had quitted the room, the whole expression of the girl's face changed. The mocking satirical smile faded away, and was re- placed by a weary dejected look. She slightly shuddered, as she murmured, "Faugh! what a wretched mountebank life it is." She gazed from the yellow-tinted window into the yellow-tinted street. There was no anodyne for a fit of spleen in that dismal scene. She threw herself once more on the sofa, and tried to resume her reading, but the pages had now no power to absorb her attention. She flung the book im- patiently aside, and sat thinking. While she is thus quiet, I will sketch her portrait for you. She is, as I have said, most beautiful. Tall, and finely formed, not an angle offends the eye. Her features are purely Grecian in their classic outline. Her eyes are magnificent even in repose. She has that wonderful hair so rarely seen, of the tint called by the French, "blonde cendree." It is drawn away in rippling waves from off her oval cheek, where the rose has only faintly breathed, and gathered in a glorious coil around her small head. Her hands are white and delicately shaped, and' her whole appearance indicates an idle an- Clara's Education. 67 cestry, for so I choose to paraphrase what the world calls "breed and pure blood." Her beauty has not, to-day at least, the aid of dress ; the gown of black silk she wears is in its seconde jeunesse. People can array themselves very charmingly on credit, as some of our confiding modistes have occasion to know; but to obtain credit, ready money is in the first place necessary. A want of ready money is the great disease of the Silvester iamily. It was perfectly marvellous how well they employed the little they had. A few pounds paid in advance, combined with the halo of aris- tocratic connections, had secured to Clara Silvester a first-class education. It is true she had been a pupil in many establishments ; true also that the Lady Superiors of these seminaries indulge to this good day in bitter vituperations against the cadet of a noble family. " Ce fripon de Silvestre m'a afTreusernent vole," shrieks Madame la Directrice of the Pensionnat in the Champs Elysees ; " cetait tin joli echantillon du gentilhomme anglais!" " For two years, my dear," says the mistress of Minerva House, " for two years did Miss Silvester remain with me; she had lessons from the first masters, and after the quarter paid in advance, f2 G8 Farnorth. not one penny did I ever receive," wails the poor lady. " 'Gad," cries clever Algy, " there is not a duchess in the land better educated than my handsome Garry, and she got her accomplishments for next to nothing." Which she most assuredly did. And yet Algernon Silvester had never been placarded in sporting circles as a defaulter. "I am not guilty of that count in the indict- ment," said a murderer and burglar, who was hanged at Newgate in the good old days, " I did not steal the extinguisher. It is true I brained the old man as he was lving in bed ; it is true I killed the woman, and took away her savings, but I did not steal the extinguisher — I die without that sin on my soul." Algy had led a wicked godless life. He had rapidly run through his wife's fortune, and though that good lady makes the most of her grievance, I admit she has reason to complain. He had systematically swindled hard working, helpless women ; he had been whitewashed time out of mind, and so defrauded honest tradespeople ; and yet, this heartless Pagan has also his sense of honour. The light is faint as the glimmer over foetid marshes, but it is visible enough to be recognised. His name is good in the betting-ring. Clara's Character. 69 " Algy is corn to the belt," his knavish comrades say, " he never skulks on settling-day. He did not steal the extinguisher. * * * * Great confidence exists, as we have seen, be- tween Algy and his handsome daughter. He is very fond of her, and most devoutly admires her, but he does not altogether understand her — who does understand Clara Silvester ? Beautiful, heart- less, clever, unprincipled, she is an enigma to all who approach her. Mrs. Silvester, poor weak selfish woman, regards her daughter something after the fashion that a domestic hen, which has hatched an eaglet in her nest, may be supposed to look upon the daring flights of her nestling. Clara's stately manner, and her bitter scoffing words, silence Algy's wife far more effectually than her husband's coarse abuse ; but there is very little love between the mother and her child. The beautiful girl is young in years, but oh ! how old she is in feeling. Has the swindling vagabond life, to which she has been linked from her in- fancy, crushed the youth out of her? I do not know — I know she loathes her wretched position ; I know it has bred in her heart one master passion — a fierce, longing thirst for gold. What 70 Farnorth. companionship has she known since she left that cheated dupe, her last school mistress? Clever, lovely, accomplished, well born, the door of good society has yet been closed against the gambling bankrupt's daughter. Gentlemen jockeys, elderly roues, and titled young spendthrifts, have fluttered round Algy's handsome girl. One or two have been violently smitten with her wonderful beauty, but a run of ill luck on the green cloth, or the capsizing of a heavy pot on the Derby, have faded the budding orange blossom, and left the haughty girl to wear the willow as best she could. On such occasions, Algy has talked fiercely of pistoLs and lawyers, but his daughter's wisdom has stayed his hand. Notoriety of that kind was death to her future prospects, and she knew it. After the exit of her lord, Mrs. Silvester joins her daughter in the drawing-room, and once more bleats out her woes. " How dirty every tiling is," she whimpers, " and your father is such a brute. I don't think there is a more miserable woman than me in the world. After all the money I brought him, to be put in a wretched hole like this, and there's Theodore — I declare it has quite put me out to think that he's so rich, and I " Sorrows of Mrs. Silvester. 71 Her daughter rises suddenly — " I am going out," she says. " Do you want anything ? " " You're not surely going out a day like this," cries her mother, " so wet and foggy ; I won't stir, and it isn't proper for you to walk out alone ! " "It is rather late in the day to prate about propriety to me," says her daughter coldly. " Of course, nothing I say will be attended to. It would have been very different if I had had my money. You are almost as bad as your father, Clara, and such a mother as I have been. I'm sure when you had the measles I — " and once more the recollection of her own goodness quite overpowered the speaker. Clara left the room during the shower. 72 Farnortk CHAPTEK VI. The large servants' hall at Becklands is in gala dress. The walls are all adorned with evergreens and hot-house flowers. Powder and plush have been compelled to eat their mutton and capers in the kitchen, grumbling no little thereat. Zoe Harding is very busy ; she has to entertain more than a hundred small children of every age, from three to ten, and carefully watch lest they surfeit themselves, and bring on bilious fevers, with currant buns and coffee. The little guests arrive early — their faces shine with unwonted soap and friction with coarse towels — they are neatly dressed. Zod has had some difficulty to preserve a strict democracy at these, her annual feasts. The slightest superiority in dress leads to cliques and aristocratic exclusiveness. White pinafores ostracise blue; merino frocks haughtily hold themselves aloof from contact with cotton. This evening all the visitors wear dresses and pinafores Zoe 1 8 Feast. provided by the young mistress of Becklands. Zoe has not ventured to repeat that dangerous experiment of hers last year, when she included the children from the workhouse in her invita- tions. The poor grey-garbed innocents were sent to Coventry; the mothers of the other children were loudly indignant ; they vowed with a great many strong parts of speech, that their barns " sudn't gang any mair to Miss Zoe's feasts, nobbut ut meet a lot o' workus brats." The Pariahs will have an entertainment all to themselves this year. The young hostess is rather flushed. She is very pretty. She has not grown much since we saw her last. Zoe is altogether mignonne. The rich silk dress she wears sits closely to her figure ("si charmante et cambree," as Madame prophesied it would be) ; its colour is most becoming to her dark beauty. Her tiny hands gleam with rings ; a costly brooch confines her lace collar ; an admir- able artiste has arranged her hair ; she looks the child of luxury. Madame is busy with the cups and saucers. The good lady has very much expanded lately. " II faut que je me serre un peu," she sighs, " a present je suis trop forte et 9a ni'agace, voyez- 74 Famorth. vous." She can speak English pretty well now, indeed, she pronounces herself " parfaitement Anglaise" in everything. The matrons and spinsters have laid aside their French again — they no longer air it in the presence of Madame. Patrician Powder and Plush — indignation even in their calves — bear in the viands, and haughtily wait on the plebeians. Gentle Mary Snowe, fair as ever, leans over a sickly little guest, and ministers to her tenderly. Flitting about the room you may observe another figure. This visitor has been invited to assist in serving out the buns and coffee. She is a Sunday school teacher. It is "our Polly," who is a woman now, and a very lovely one. It is not only a mother's partiality which proclaims her " fair as alabaster, and t' bonniest lass in t' country side." Famorth has christened her its " Snowdrop." Zoe Harding is very kind to her, and takes more notice of her than Madame altogether approves. Ann Dalton's daughter is no favourite with the Parisian. She admits the Snowdrop's beauty — " et pour de 1' esprit elle n'en manque pas," she says ; but she is not " d'un bon naturel," the sapient lady decides; and between vou and me I do not think she is very far wrong. Our Polly's Aristocratic Proclivities. 75 "Our Polly" is in her element now. She is mingling almost on equal terms with the "quality." To be a lady is her ambition. The old feeling whicli made her as a child declare " she reckoned nowt o' fath-er and mother, for they ducln't kna war t' Caspian Sea was," has grown with her growth, and strengthened with her strength. She chafes in her rustic bondage, and is oppressed by her social status. She shudders as she listen's to the broad patois of her parents. Alas ! unhappy father and mother, have you denied yourselves of comforts for this? They gaze with a sort of admiring awe on this their child. She is apart from them ; a superior being, moulded of material altogether different to their common clay. Ann Dalton strives to weed the coarse words from her dialect and "nacks," as the country people call it, when she talks to her daughter. John and she have decided "our Polly" is not fit for " sarvice." They have apprenticed her to a dress- maker, and the girl has already so far profited by her instruction as to be able to model her own dresses in the newest fashion. She has lovers by the dozen, but is coldly cruel alike to all. Fifty valentines found their way last February to the Snowdrop of Farnorth. The rustic belles in 76 Farnorth. the neighbourhood hate her with a savage hatred — their rosy faces deepen to an unbecoming tint as they wonder what all the lads can see to admire in Mary Dalton. "She is as white as a clout," these indignant fair ones say. The revels are at the highest. Two local fiddlers, are scraping shrill shrieks from their tortured instruments ; the children's wooden clogs are "clattering on the floor — they are dancing after a fashion of their own. The master of Becklands enters. He has aged a good deal in these few years, white threads glisten in his black hair ; the Midas of the district has a worn and anxious look. He is a Justice of the Peace now, and chairman of the Poor Law Board. If Farnorth were a borough town he would be unanimously returned its member ; never was an " offcome " so popular before. The railroad has by this time stretched its iron feelers into the hills and dales ; that "Torso" the Weasle has its limbs now. Trade is brisk ; the quantity of ore raised is more startling than ever. " Two hundred thousand tons, sir," says Giles Houndly to an iron-ore master, whose mine is in a sad condition, "two hundred thousand tons sent from the Weasle this year; I know it for a fact. At present prices, Popularity of the Owner of Beehlands. 11 the profit on each ton cannot be less than, say, three shillings. I tell you what, sir, Harding must have netted thirty thousand pounds this last twelvemonth. That's the way to work a mine. I hear the water has drowned you out in all your shafts. Ahem ! they say no one under : stands mining in these parts but Harding* What do you think, sir ? " I have said the master of Becklands is very popular in Farnorth. He was infinitely more so among the fairer portion of the neighbourhood a little time ago. Elderly, middle-aged, and youthful spinsters had directed the whole artillery of their charms against this impregnable citadel. A discerning observer in our parish church must have noticed — if he ever permitted his eyes to wander from his Prayer-book — a decided change for the better in the toilettes of the lovelier portion of the congregation. Miss Benton nearly made her fortune at this period ; certainly it was the foundation of what ultimately led to her genteel retirement from business. Bonnets were ordered with a disregard to cost, amounting to recklessness. Mrs. Bland, the widow lady with the pretty unmarried daughters, could not balance her accounts satisfactorilv for months. She was 78 Farnorth. a whole year behind hand by that brilliant party she gave last Christmas; and after all, nothing came of it, as the poor relict said. A coldness arose between those bosom friends, Hermia and Helena, all on account of the master of Becklands. He was most courteous to all the fair besiegers, but he showed preference to none. "His manners are charming, but he has no heart," was the universal moan. The elderly spinsters, who so often had said dear Zoe was far too young and lovely to conduct such an establishment, suddenly decided, when all their blandishments proved futile, that really, you know, proper chaperonage appeared no longer necessary for young ladies now-a-days — they were so very pert and forward. The more youthful attackers, who pronounced Zoe Harding "sweetly pretty" when the siege was at its height, utterly ignore her good looks now. " Fine feathers make fine birds ; but she is so very sallow and foreign-looking," they say. Some of the discomfited beauties — ancient vestals, who religiously kept the sacred fire of scandal burning — tried to make fuel out of Madame, but, some- how or other, they could not make it kindle. The Parisian's appearance, so stout and respectable, immediately extinguished the faintest spark. Pandemonium. 79 The scrapings of fiddles and the clattering of clogs stopped for a moment after Mr. Harding's entrance. "I scarcely hoped Monsieur would have honoured us with his presence," said Madame. " It is very kind of you, dear papa," cried Zoe. "I want to speak to you, mignonne, when these small folk are gone ; you will find me in the library," said her father. • ■ I will come at once if you wish it, papa." "There is no hurry, little one. What I have to say will keep for two hours, at any rate. I see my august presence oppresses these small people. I will take my leave, and Pandemonium may be let loose again." It certainly was a Pandemonium. "Quel bruit epouvantable ! " cried Madame, stopping her ears with her fingers; "on dirait que les esprits de l'enfer sont dechaines." A hundred Blankshire voices screaming their loudest, and a hundred pairs of Blankshire clogs stamping on the floor, make some noise. The guests have eaten as nearly to repletion as is compatible with safety. The oranges and four- penny-pieces have been distributed, and silence once more reigns in the servants' hall. 80 Farnorth. Powder and Plush, in company with the female elite of the kitchen, seek consolation for their late degradation in a hot supper. They solicit Mary Dalton to remain, but that young person declines, and takes her leave; she holds herself aloof from high life below stairs. Zoe' has joined her father in the library. In our character of Asmodeus we will look in upon her there. Mr. Harding has his arm around her supple waist ; he is looking tenderly at her. " You are pale, my pet," he says ; " those young savages have been too much for you." " Not at all, dear papa, you know I like these aborigines. What is it you have to tell me ? " " Petite curieuse," said the father, and he smiled, but the smile was a very sad one. "It is no pleasant story you have to listen to, child." He sat down and shaded his face with his hand : he did not speak for some minutes. At length he .said abruptly — " Your dear mother was not my first wife, as you know, Zoe." The little girl murmured some inaudible reply ; she was startled by the strangeness of her father's manner. Harding reminded of his Sister. 81 " I made what is called a low match," he con- tinued, " God help me ! it was low enough. I never meant to revert to this miserable story in your hearing, Zoe, but it seems you must know it now." He sighed heavily. Zoe drew near to him, and took his hand in hers. "This wretched marriage separated me com- pletely from my family. My father cursed me, and swore he would never see me more. He kept his word to the letter. My mother had been dead for years. I had one sister, I had well nigh forgotten her existence. Her memory has returned to me oddly to-night." Again he sighed heavily. " I do not think very much affection ever ex- isted between us," he said, speaking very hurriedly now. " She was weak, intensely selfish, and easily influenced. When my father left her all his money — it was a large sum she inherited — she made no effort to make amends for his injustice, I vowed that she should be as dead to me ; only once have I broken that vow. I wrote to ac- quaint her with the death of the woman who had wrought me so much misery. She never answered that letter." He rose from his chair, and walked to and fro in an excited manner. VOL. i. g 82 Farnorth. Zoe approached him, and threw her arms around him : he stopped suddenly and looked at her, and a change came over his face as he bent down to kiss her." " I have startled you, my darling," he said in his old tones. "I have fluttered my pretty bird. See Zoe what it is that has raised this ghost from the past. I scarcely know how to act ; you shall decide for me, little one. Look here, child," and he pointed to that portion of the ' Times' Supple- ment devoted to runaways. " To Theodore Baynes Harding, who left Eng- land five-and-twenty years ago : — A dying sister longs for the forgiveness of an injured brother. Address, A. C. S., Post-office, Yere Street, London." "You must write at once, papa," cried Zoe excitedly. " I knew you would say so, mignmne." Miss Alathea" s New Holly. 83 CHAPTEK VII. Miss Alathea has turned out that geological hobby of hers to grass, for a month or so ; she has likewise stabled many other ologies. She has mounted phrenology now, and is riding it to death. I think some of her friends will not be sorry when this last steed is consigned to the knacker's yard. Zoe found the las lieu deep in Combe, when she called at Kose Cottage the morning following that interview with her father in the library. " 1 am so glad to see you, dear Zoe," said the student, " you have just arrived in time. I want to manipulate your head. I know your character so very well, it will be quite an interesting study to compare the analogy " "I beg your pardon, Miss Alathea, where is La Bonte? (Zoe had so rechristened Mary Snowe.) I wish so much to speak to her." " You are as impetuous as ever, child. Let me see ; which organ " a 2 84 Farnorth. " Do tell me where she is, clear La Sagesse," pleaded Zoe, who had stood godmother also at this baptism. " I am so very anxious to see her." " She has gone to the post-office. The Indian Mail is in, and we are expecting a letter from Horace. The second delivery is at two, and it is now only half-past twelve ; but Mary is, at times, quite as impatient as you, Zoe." " I will wait until her return ; but don't let me interrupt you, Miss Alathea." "Take off your hat, my dear, I must mani- pulate your organs. I fancy adhesiveness and concentrativeness will be very largely deve- loped. Self-esteem also will preponderate over love of approbation. No head can be properly balanced " " Have you really any faith in this science, La Sagesse ? " "Most assuredly. Psychologists differed for- merly in the localisation of the seat of mind; some assigning the heart, others," she added with hesitation, " — the — stomach." "Do you know I rather incline to that last theory," said Zoe. Miss Alathea slightly frowned and continued: — " Of late years it has been universally admitted The Lecture on Phrenology. 85 that the brain is the seat of our moral and intel- lectual perceptions, and as anatomists coincide in the opinion that the form of the head is materially influenced by cerebral ramifications, it appears to me that the science of phrenology has a more solid foundation than the world in general is willing to assign it. Have I expressed myself clearly ? " said the lecturer with modest complacency. " Clearly as crystal, La Sagesse, you are in great force to-day." " Take off your hat, my dear." Zoe obeyed, and her pretty head was presently under the hands of the operator. "Precisely as I imagined. Causality very deficient. I have always told you, my dear, you are too apt to accept the surface. Conscientious- ness, very large ; self-esteem, large — quite right ; love of approbation, moderate ; concentrativeness and adhesiveness How very provoking," sud- denly exclaimed the phrenologist ; " is not that Mrs. Bland coming up the walk ? " " Yes, it is," said Zoe, " I must arrange my hair ; what a fright I am ! " The visitor entered. I have had occasion to refer to this lady in the preceding chapter. She is the widow of James Bland, who was one of our 86 Farnorth. small landed proprietors. Mrs. Bland is a good- natured woman enough, but one of the greatest gossips in Farnorth. " How do you do, Miss Alathea?" she said, " oc- cupied with some delightful study, as usual. I always hold you up as an example to my two girls, who complain of the dulness of a country life. How do you do, Miss Harding? How beau- tiful your hair is, my dear. Quite a picture, I'm sure. The amiable lady was by this time seated. " I just looked in to tell you the last piece of news," she continued. " What do you think, Miss Alathea? the Plantagenets are coming back to Foxcroft." " Indeed," said the has bleu, who was not, how- ever, much interested in the intelligence. " Yes, it is quite true ; some old leases have fallen in, and they have paid off two or three of the mortgages on the estate. What a change it will make in the neignbourhood. Some one said the other day, that it was really time the aristo- crats returned to Farnorth, for the Plutocrats were having it all their own way. " I know who manufactured that speech," said Zoe, in a whispered aside to Miss Alathea, " I can History of the Plantagenets. 87 taste the pepper in the cream tart." — "It was Mr. Giles Houndly who said that, I am sure, Mrs. Bland," she added aloud. " I quite forget," said the relict, blushing pain- fully, as she remembered too late in whose presence she was speaking ; " but I was going to say Sir Mortimer Plantagenet, the present baronet, has not been at Foxcroft since he w 7 as eight years of age. He is said to be so handsome — quite a killer. I tell my daughters, Miss Harding, that you young ladies must take care of your hearts. Of course you are very different to my poor girls. Ah!" she added, with a sigh, "there is no change for the better since the days of good Mrs. Primrose. It is not, What is she ? but, What has she ? is all the cry." " I have heard there was another son, and that some romantic story attaches to him," said Zoe, not altogether civilly breaking in upon the widow's lamentations. " Ah, yes ; such a sad thing ! He was drowned, you know. It must be now nearly six and twenty years ago." "I have never heard the particulars of his death," said Miss Alathea. j , "Have vou not, indeed?" said the widow, who Farnorth. was delighted to have an opportunity of giving her tongue a holiday ; " then I will tell you everything I know about it; and I think few people know more. Poor young man! he was only two-and-twenty. He had not been living at home for some time — he was not on good terms with his father. The old baronet married his daughters' governess very soon after the death of his first wife ; and Mr. Frederick could not abide his stepmother," said Mrs. Bland, forgetting in her earnestness her ordinary company diction. " Sir Mortimer, the present baronet, is the son of the second wife, is he not?" enquired Miss Alathea. " Yes ; the death of his eldest son, who was, I believe, his favourite child, in spite of their disagreements, almost broke his father's heart, at least so people said; but he certainly lived a good many years_ after it; however, of course, he must have felt it; such a fine young man and altogether. They left Foxcroft two or three years after the sad event." "They had left a little time before we came here," said Miss Alathea. " It was said that they went abroad on account of Lady Plantagenet's health. She was thrown Death of Mr. Frederick Plantagenet. 89 out of her carriage and seriously injured her spine ; I believe she is on her back yet" " You have not yet told us how the eldest son was drowned," remarked Zoe. " Oh, no ; and it was such a romantic incident. He was crossing in the steamer from Calais, and a little boy fell overboard, and Mr. Frederick — he was very brave and kind-hearted, poor fellow — threw himself into the water, and was drowned in attempting to save the child. All the papers were full of it ; and such reports were circulated in' Farnorth. I should be sorry to repeat them now; though it can't be denied the death of this poor young man was a grand thing for her present ladyship," added the widow, in rather an irrelevant manner. " Was the second wife popular in Farnorth ? " enquired Zoe. " Not at all ; we considered the match a fearful mesalliance. Of course you know," continued the relict, who was thoroughly imbued with the good old English feeling which prostrates us humbly on our knees before rank and a title, "of course we naturally looked up to the Plantagenets. Such a very old family; and we pitied the baronet's daughters, poor young ladies, so very 90 Farnorth. much. It was a dreadful thing for them, you know. She was scarcely any older " " And very handsome, I suppose," said Zoe. "Yes, she was pretty-looking; but nothing to compare to the first Lady Plantagenet, who was niece to the Duke of Overall — one of the first families in the kingdom, you know, I remember her second ladyship when she was plain Miss Brown, and engaged to be married to Edward Sparkles — he succeeded to Mr. Giles Houndly's practice some years after — and a capital match she thought she was going to make at the time. I believe she was very fond of him, and he was quite madly in love with her; but, when the Baronet came forward, she threw her old love over. He took it very badly, I believe — you see he has never married. And now I must really say good morning. Good morning." And the talkative lady took her leave. " Farnorth will be in a state of chronic ferment now until Foxcroft is tenanted," said Zoe. " When these fine people arrive we shall have excellent opportunities for studying the salient points of our species. Mr. Giles Houndly will go through all the moods and tenses of the verb ' to toady ' to perfection. I hate that man." Zoe 8 Opinion of Giles Houndly. 91 "My dear Zoe,'' remonstrated Miss Alathea, " do not use such strong terms." "I do hate him, La Sagesse. He is utterly selfish and heartless ; he crawls abjectly to attain his own mean ends. He will fawn and flatter for the sake of a good dinner, and stab his host in the back with slander afterwards. His wicked tongue descends on all alike — he spares neither young or old, rich or poor, friend or foe. You know Miss Gray — her life is one long deprecating protest to Mrs. Grundy. She is a nervous, timid creature ; not one of God's creatures leads a more innocent, harmless life than she. Giles Houndly lashed her cruelly with one of his ' they says ' the other day." And the indignant tears rose to Zoe's bright eyes. " What a shame ! " cried the has bleu, excitedly ; " her very weakness should have protected her." " Giles Houndly is just the man to respect such an iEgis," said Zoe', bitterly. " We will not speak of him any more. I think he developes all that is evil in my nature. Here is La Bonte at last." Mary Snowe's face is radiant with some great joy. There is sunshine in every feature. She holds an open letter in her hand. Her voice is tremulous with delight. 92 Farnortk "He is coming, Alathea. Horace is coming, dear Zoe. His regiment is ordered home. We shall see our dear boy again." And the speaker's eyes are suffused with a glad moisture. The has bleu is quite as much affected as her sister. " Dear Horace !" she murmurs, as she greedily devours every word in the flimsy missive. She reads some passages aloud : — " I long to see you, my dear kind guardians," the nephew wrote. " I feel as I have so often felt at Sandhurst when the holidays drew near. I have increased in bulk since I saw you last. (I was at one time threatened with fat, but I waged war against the insidious foe, and conquered manfully). Huge wings have sprouted from my cheeks. They are of the colour you will call auburn — my enemies pronounce them red ! — my hair had always a tendency in that direction, but you would never admit it." "It had no such thing," said Miss Alathea. "Horace had beautiful hair, and as to the whiskers, I admire the tawny leonine hue; it is essentially British," added the patriotic lady. "That is your nephew, is it not?" said Zoe, pointing to a vigorous crayon sketch which hung over the fireplace. Family Portraits. 93 "Yes; it was taken when he was twelve years old. It did not do him justice," said the partial aunt. It was not a strictly handsome face which looked at you so frankly from the gilded frame. The features were not classically moulded; but there was not a mean line about them. The brows were straight and well denned ; the eyes, rather deep-set, blue, honest, and fearless. There were several family portraits in this the dining-room of Rose Cottage. Some of these pictures wore the costumes of our great, great grandfathers and grandmothers. They were re- garded with reverent awe by those of the Far- northites, whose descent, poor souls, was of the murkiest. Mr. Giles Houndly had said something about "Monmouth Street and pur- chased ancestors," but his words fell unheeded. There was one portrait there, about which Zoe's tact soon learnt to observe a reticence. It represented a very beautiful girl. Miss Alathea murmurs "An ancestress," whenever admiring visitors draw her attention to this picture. The dress is certainly rococo, but too modern I think to have been worn by a predecessor of the amiable has bleu. 94 Farnorth. Miss Alathea is still abstracting from the letter in her hand : — "I am not very proud of any laurels I may have gained here. The god of war does not show to great advantage when his civilized weapons are raised against the breasts of naked savages. I am sick ' o' sic warfare/ as Farnorth would say. (The pun, vile though it be, is creditable with the thermometer 96° in the shade.) Don't, however, for one moment imagine I am pining to become one of those gentlemen of England who live at home at ease." ("Horace always dreaded being a carpet knight," says the reader. "I shall examine his head when he comes home. I am persuaded combativeness must be very largely developed.") "I have some fine specimens of butterflies to add to aunt Ally's collection. I put them to death in the easiest manner I could devise. I have also a venomous snake preserved in spirit for her. It had run to earth in my boot, and I killed it without much regard for its personal comfort." "I am so glad Horace is leaving India. His profession is quite sufficiently dangerous without these collateral disadvantages, if I may be allowed Zoe communicates her Secret. 95 tile expression," said the euphuist, as she carefully refolded the precious letter. "Zoe has some secret to communicate, Mary," she continued. "The little girl has been dying to reveal it for the last two hours." " I think you ought to give me great credit for self-control, La Sagesse, since you found out this morning that I have not the organ of secretive- ness. I have not, indeed. I dislike secrets very much. I have no hidden springs or private drawers in my head to guard them. I should not have behaved one whit better than the classical barber under similar circumstances. What I am so anxious to tell you now though, can scarcely be called a secret, as all the good people of Farnorth who take in the ' Times ' must know it, and are no doubt weaving a romance out of it at this moment." And she proceeded to make her friends acquainted with those particulars about the adver- tisement, which the reader already knows. "I am sorry I did not advise papa to go at once to the address given, instead of writing. It would be so very dreadful if my poor aunt were to die before she sees him," said Zoe. " You have never heard of her before ? " enquired Marv. 96 Farnorth. "Never. Until last nii^ht I had not the slightest idea I owned a single English relation but papa. Mamma was his second wife, you know, and his first marriage estranged him completely from his family, because " Zoe hesitated, and coloured painfully. Her friends, with ready tact, perceived the child had ventured upon ice that would not bear. Mary was ready with the humane drags directly. "I hope the poor lady is not so ill as the advertisement leads one to infer," she said. "And now tell me, dear, are you any worse after your exertions last night ? " " Not in the, slightest degree, La Bonte. I think my entertainment was a great success. Thanks to uniformity of costume, we had egalite and fraternite this time. How very lovely Mary Dalton looked when she was slightly flushed," said Zoe. " She is very pretty," answered her friend, rather coldly. " Not a good head," said Miss Alathea, senten- tiously. " A great want of conscientiousness and veneration; self-esteem and love of approbation inordinately developed." Zoe Harding was quite right when she pro The Late Mrs. Houndly. 97 phesied that Farnorth would weave a romance out of that advertisement in the ' Times.' Mr. Giles Houndly took the shuttle in his hand, and pro- duced a splendid woof. It would have been a much better thing for this neighbourhood if Giles had never emerged from his obscurity. What on earth did Jane Hopkins see in him to admire ? I am sure I do not know; but every one knows she had good reason to repent the sequence to that admiration. He was, I believe, meek and lowly enough whilst he was courting the heiress of Gothic Hall ; but no sooner was he lord and master of that lady and her domain than he took the reins of government into his own hands, and reigned an absolute monarch. I am afraid Giles bullied not a little, Jane, that beloved and lamented wife of his — she dared not say her soul was her own. He sequestered the whole of her income ; he allowed her but a trifling amount of pin-money, and audited the expenditure even of that. "I cannot afford to wear real lace now," the poor lady was wont to say to her intimate friends. " I have given as much as ten shillings a yard for my tuckers before I was married," she would add dolefully. Giles carried the woof he had woven to pretty VOL. I. H 98 Farnorth. nearly every house in Farnorth. " I always said Harding was so uncommonly mysterious. Who has ever heard him allude to his antecedents in the very remotest manner, sir ? What are we to think about this story of the dying sister longing for forgiveness, &c, &c, eh, sir ? It is clear enough to me what it is. I have not the slightest doubt, sir, that this woman has been guilty of .some capital offence, for which her brother has suffered. They say these ticket-of-leave men make large fortunes in our penal settlements. Depend upon it, sir, Harding was one of the lucky ones before he came here." The Bait taken. 99 CHAPTER VIII. " Hueeah ! he has risen to the fly already, Clarry." cried Algernon Silvester delightedly, as he entered the drawing-room, bearing an unopened letter, addressed to A. C. S., Post-office, Vere Street, in his hand. " Let us see what he says." There were but a few words, requesting A. C. S. to communicate further particulars to T. B. Harding, Becklancls. " I may write now, I suppose, Mademoiselle Talleyrand," said Algy. " Certainly," replied his daughter, " but you must not allow your pen any wild goose flights." " I shall ask him to come up at once and see his sister. I do hope your mother will restrain her grumbling propensities." " Administer extreme unction to that hope, mon pere, for it will expire at mamma's first words. To grumble is as necessary to her as to breathe." " By George ! I've done my best to curb her h2 100 Famorth. tongue," said Algy, (and to give him his due he had). "These Farnorth people know how to squeeze their orange," he continued. "Another princely donation ; I saw it in one of the papers. They bleed him freely." " Tant mieux," answered his daughter, " he will be accustomed to the process by the time you take him in hand." Algy smiled grimly. " We must have money somehow," he said, " I have a very heavy pot on the Derby ; if it capsizes, I tell you candidly, Clarry, I don't know where to turn ; as to asking any of my confounded relations— 5 — " " You have knocked so frequently at their door without success, it would be only a waste of time to try again," said his daughter. u A precious lot better off am I for my good blood," said Algy, savagely. " I might just as well have been a tinker's son, and you, Clarry, with both blood and beauty " " Have been bowled out by the squinting daughter of a rich cheesemonger, you were going to say." " Well, there's no denying it, when money enters for the matrimonial cup, beauty is pretty certain to be scratched. It is a mercenary age, Algy's Losses. 101 ma fille. A gentleman can no longer take to the road ; and so, when he is in difficulties now-a-days, he waylays an heiress. I threw my first love over when I went in for your mother, and a nice business I made of it." " I do not usually supplement mamma's dirges, but I must say you made a worse business of it when you lost her money. Your turf education was a costly one, papa/' "I was not ruined by the turf, Clarry," said Algy, impatiently. " It was that confounded 'Amalgamated Anglican and American' that drifted me into low water; I have told you so a dozen times, young lady." Clara smiled, but she did not make any further remark. Algy was fond of alluding to his losses in the ' Amalgamated Anglican.' They were really very inconsiderable, but they were about the most legitimate and respectable he had sustained during his reckless career. " Any fellow might have been taken in by that company, and I don't pretend to be wiser than my neighbours," continued Algy ; " however, there is no good to be done in moaning over spilt milk. Let us take opportunity by the forelock, now we have him. There is a cousin arisen for you, 102 Farnorth. Garry, as well as an uncle. Here she is in print, and he read an extract from the newspaper he held in his hand — " At the launch of the * Sarah Jane,' on Tuesday last, the ceremony of christening the new vessel was most gracefully performed bv the lovely daughtei\of Theodore B. Harding, Esq., of Becklands." " .We could very well have dispensed with this daughter of the barmaid," said Miss Silvester, rather scornfully. " The young lady is not the daughter of that deceased individual. Your mother says she is pretty nearly certain Harding had no children by his first wife. I have been making some enquiries, sub rosa, and I find that this lovely daughter (a griffin to you, I'll be bound, Garry) is the child of the second wife, a Peruvian party." "Have you decided on the incurable com- plaint which is killing mamma?" said Clara, smiling. " Yes, I have settled all that. Maria has fancied her heart affected for years now (it ails nothing, but she has palpitation when she eats too much). Heart disease is a variable complaint, as all the world knows, so it will not be astonishing if the ' dying sister ' should be tolerably well when Letter to Mr. Harding. 10* she welcomes her ' injured brother.' Can you think of a better extemporary malady ? " " I could suggest nothing that would so well suit the case. We are wasting a great amount of ingenuity if this newly arisen uncle should not prove so rich as we fancy him to be." "There's no doubt of his wealth. From the enquiries I've made I find he must have an income of at least twenty thousand a year ; the profits of a mine he is very successfully working, lucky devil ! If we had only a tenth part of it, Clarry ! " " ' Give me standing room, and I will raise the world,' said Archimedes. It is standing room I want, papa." " And standing room you shall have, ma belle, if I can get it for you, by fair means or foul," said the admiring father, as he arranged his writing materials ; " and now, pour commencer, Clarry. It won't do to be too affectionate at first." " My dear Sir, " In compliance with your request I hasten to communicate further particulars in connection with my poor suffering wife, your only sister — (' that is putting the left spur in, Clarry'). It was at her earnest prayer, at a moment when the angel of 104 Farnorth. death was waving his sombre wings — (' yon don't approve of that, ma fille, bnt I think it's uncom- monly poetical, so it shall stand ') — I inserted the advertisement in the ' Times/ which has so fortu- nately arrested your attention. So many years have elapsed since the unfortunate event which led to a disunion in your family, that I scarcely dared to hope the appeal of a dying sister would so soon have met with a response from her injured brother. There is a slight change for the better in our beloved sufferer. The medical attendant (I have secured the best that money can procure) whispers hope, that tho' permanent recovery is out of the question (the disease is of the heart) she may still, with care, be preserved for some years to gladden the hearts of her affectionate husband and daughter. — [' I defy you to beat that,' said the writer, as he stopped a moment for further inspiration.] — Fate has been to us an avenging Nemesis. The whole of the money which so unfairly reverted to my dear wife is dissipated." " You must efface all that, papa," interrupted his daughter. "Why so?" said Algy, who was not a little proud of this rather classical period. "There is more than a soupgm of the mendi- A Cunning Concoction. 105 cant's whine about it. We must not begin our trade too soon." "Perhaps you are right," said her father, as with a slight sigh he crossed out the obnoxious passage. "Let me see," he continued, "where was I before I made that flight. Oh, I must go on from here : Eejoice the hearts of her affectionate husband and daughter. Her only cry to me is, Dear Algernon, entreat my brother to come to me ! May I implore you, my dear Mr. Harding — ('I am writing my way on to the confidential ') — to listen to her prayer. She is comparatively well at present, but her malady may at any moment take an unfavourable turn. I should never forgive myself, if any want of effort on my part prevented that solace to her death-bed which her gentle spirit demands. The journey from the north is, I fear, an expensive one, but we may be able to come to some arrange- ment on the subject — (' there is nothing of the mendicant's whine about that Garry ') — may I entreat you to lose no time in hastening to bring the consolation of your presence ; and believe me, my dear Mr. Harding, " Very faithfully yours, " Algernon Charles Silvester." 106 Farnorth. " And now I must make a fair copy of it. You shall overhaul it afterwards, Clarry. My spelling is not much to boast of, in spite of my University education " — [he was plucked for his little Go, and bade farewell to Alma Mater after having taken that honour]. "I make a mull of the participles, and hang it, the dictionary don't help one there." "Had you not better rehearse the role you propose to yourself to play?" said Clara, when the letter was sealed and addressed. "What do you mean?" enquired her father. " Ah, je comprends — the affectionate husband. No ; it will be triste enough, by Jove, when the time comes ; I don't suppose Mokanna smothered his grim face in his silver veil in private." " He raised it once in public though, and quite destroyed his prestige. Be warned by the pro- phet's fate, and keep yours well down." Algernon sighed. "One has to work marvel- lously hard for an honest living in this world. Your mother is certain, as you say, to begin spinning her old dismal yarn the very moment her brother ar- rives. I don't know whether it would not have been better if I had said her complaint was softening of the brain — it takes its own time in killing, as well as the other disease, and would have accounted The Tool to the Scheme. 107 for some of her eccentricities, eh, Clarry ?" he said thoughtfully. "We cannot provide against all contingencies; we must trust to chance. Be advised by me, and rehearse your part a little in private. Here is mamma." And the young Machiavelli left the room. The expression of Mrs. Silvester's face has not improved since we saw her last. Its lines are as peevish as ever. She totters under a weight of grievances, which she hastens to deposit in the presence of her husband. " My dress has just come home, and it won't meet by an inch, and the skirt is so badly cut; but of course, what can one expect when one has to employ a woman who knows nothing, just be- cause she is cheap ? Oh, dear me ! if poor papa were alive, and could only see. I used to have all my dresses sent from Paris, and now " " Perhaps you may have them from Paris again, Polly, who knows ? " said her husband cheerily. "You don't look well, my dear, I consulted Dr. about the palpitation you complain of, and he says we must take very great care of you." " Good Lord ! Mr. Silvester," cried his wife, all in a tremor, " you don't mean to say there is really anything dangerous the matter with my heart ? " 108 Farnorth. "Don't alarm yourself, Maria, there is no im- mediate danger. Of course now we will take every care of you. You must avoid all excitement ; and really, my dear, that constant recurrence to your loss of fortune is most prejudicial. No one can regret that unhappy accident more than I do ; but your state is now so critical, I have no doubt the action of your heart is abnormally excited every time you allude to it." Mrs. Silvester sank back on the sofa, faint with terror. Her affectionate husband handed her a glass of wine. She was malleable in his hands now, as metal which has passed the fire. " You are exciting yourself without cause," Algy continued; "I repeat there is no fear of immediate danger ; care is what you require. Change of air might be beneficial to you, the doctor says ; unfortunately my funds are at present low, and I cannot afford to move. By the way, my dear, it is very probable you may see that rich brother of yours in the course of a few days. I put an advertisement in the ' Times,' and he has answered it. I have written, requesting him to come and see you at once. There is no doubt he is possessed of great wealth, and " " I am his own flesh and blood," moaned the Effect of the Epistle at BecJclands. 109 lady, "he can't deny that. I'm sure he has a right to help me. It would be very hard, when he is rolling in money, to let his only sister want for anything," she added, forgetting how very dif- ferently she had argued when the circumstances were reversed. "Kemember, Maria, we are not supposed to know your brother is rich. It would never do to let out that, you know. He might cut up rusty, if he thought we wanted anything out of him, just at first. We must wait a bit. When I wrote to him, I only said you wanted to see him." " I'm sure I don't care about seeing him, if he will give me nothing; but he can't be so cruel. Wlien I'm so ill too," whined Madam, who de- voutly believed in her imaginary ailment. " You had better go and lie down," said her husband, inwardly blessing his daughter, as he saw how admirably her scheme worked. His amiable helpmate slowly retired to follow his advice. * * * * Zoe Harding was no little excited when her father handed her the precious epistle whose composition we have watched. " You must go at once, dear papa," the little maid said, all a-blaze with affectionate sympathy. 110 Farnorth. " My poor aunt seems to be very fortunate in her husband. How kindly he speaks of her ; and how very delightful it will be for me to have a cousin ; somehow or other I do not get on very well with the girls of my own age here, and " " You have been very dull with "your old father, mignonne, — I " but a tiny hand on his lips pre- vented all further speech. The master of Becklands left by the earliest train that day, and in due course a letter from him arrived for his daughter. " I should not have known my sister," the writer said, " but no wonder, thirty years effect marvel- lous changes. She is in better health than I expected to find her, but you will be surprised to hear, she and her family are in far from flourishing circumstances. It appears her husband has been very unfortunate, and the large fortune she had has melted away ; they cannot even provide the luxuries that are so imperatively necessary for my sister's failing health. I cannot say I am prepos- sessed in favour of my newly found brother-in-law. I am told he is of good family, but the man is decidedly vulgar. There is a want of refinement about him ; his conversation is flavoured with the stable, and besprinkled with more oaths than are Zoes Preparations for the Silvesters. Ill altogether pleasant; however, he appears very kind to his wife, which is the more creditable, as, between you and me, she is peevish and exigeante. She always was. The daughter, la belle cousine, about whom my pet was so anxious, is very dif- ferent to her parents. She is splendidly handsome, and her manners are highly finished. She will be a nice companion for my darling. And now, petite chatelaine, you must make hospitable pre- parations to receive these new relatives at Beck- lands. I have invited them to stay with me, as the doctor recommends change of air for your aunt. She is sitting near me as I w T rite, and I can scarcely believe she is the sister of my youth. She was a rather pretty, fair girl, as slight as a gazelle, when I saw her last. She is a faded, stout, elderly woman now. I dare say time has played the same havoc with me. I shall remain in London for a few days, and I trust to my mignonne to have everything in readiness for our arrival.'' La petite chatelaine was very busy, you may rest assured. She looked forward with unmixed delight to the advent of these relatives. Not so Madame. The good lady was quite disconsolate ; she apprehended all manner of disagreeables as 112 Farnorth. likely to result to herself from this threatened visit. " Je suis fachee d'apprendre que ces gens arrivent," she said, " vous ne serez plus ma mignonne, petite Zoe, cette tante et la cousine auront peut- etre de la morgue. Peut-etre seront-elles d'un esprit insulaire. Ma foi! que sais-je; elles me regarderont comme menagere, moi ! " she cried, and the indignant tears stood in her eyes. Zoe had some difficulty in allaying her fears and smoothing the ruffled feathers. Again, dear reader, I must carry you in my arms, as the Geni carried Bedredden Hassan, and deposit you in those apartments I have de- scribed in Noname Street, Fashionable Square. The Silvesters are holding a family council. Their guest has departed to his hotel. Clara Silvester no longer wears that elderly black gown of hers. The beauty of her figure, and the trans- parency of her complexion are made still more evident by a dark blue silk dress, so handsomely fashioned, that I am persuaded it must have been built on credit. Algernon Charles is also en grande tenue. His habiliments indicate the style called ''horsey," the principal features being a cut-away coat, and a general tightness of the nether integuments. Mrs. Silvester is dressed as A Family Council. 113 an invalid ; but her healthy appearance by no means accords with her raiment. You may observe a decided improvement in all the appoint- ments of their menage. A judicious application of ready money has given birth to a very centi- pede of credit. A handsome harp and a piano occupy a prominent position in the apartment. A few vases of hot-house flowers give an air of freshness, and the promise of a very excellent supper, a decided air of comfort, to the general arrangements. "I'm mighty glad its over," said Algy, with a sigh of relief. "I may take off my veil, and breath now, Garry. Confound it, I'm half stifled. What do you think of him, young lady ? " " Do you know I rather like him. He is a little rococo, but still very charming. His manners are a happy mixture of Sir Charles Grandison and Le Grand Monarque." "He's a proud, pragmatical prig — that's my opinion," said Algy, with alliterative candour. " I know you don't care for refinement," said his daughter. "I confess I do. He has been very handsome, and is still distiDguished looking. I don't see any likeness to you, mamma." " I should hope you did not," cried the invalid. VOL. I. I 114 Farnorth. " Why he's as gray as gray, and I'm sure I'm not." And she complacently stroked her own hair, of a dull drab hue, as yet almost intact. " He was always so very dark, and I am still as fair — as— fair," said the lady, who was not strong in similes. " Well, let us have some supper," cried Algy. " By Jove ! we all stand in need of refreshment after our exertions. I shall polish off some porter without loss of time/' which he did, likewise ex- tending the same burnishing process to several glasses of sherry. " You will have to restrain some of those strong adjectives of yours in future," said Clara. " I saw the rich man shudder more than once when you were very energetic." " Nay, hang it, Clara, I must rap out an oath now and then, it is such a relief. I hope, made- moiselle, you observed my dexterity in sowing seeds for an invitation." "Yes, and I think it probable we may soon reap the harvest of your sowing." " Won't you take the shine out of your country cousin !" cried Algy. '"Country cousins are an extinct race," said Clara, "the railroads have destroyed them. I Mr. Harding brings home his Guests. 115 have no doubt we shall find this young provincial as much at home in her silks and satins as we are, perhaps more so, as her finery is of course paid for." " I'm sure it's not my fault we have so many bills," whimpered Mrs. Silvester, " you need not twit me with that, Clara. Any one who had a hundred thousand pounds to her fortune " "By Jove! Maria," cried Algy, determined to make a diversion from the dreaded topic, " won't you have palpitations to-morrow, if you wolf away at lobster salad in that fashion. Mind, I have told you what the doctor says. If you don't take very great care " Not another note of her favourite dirge did Maria utter that evening. She sat with her fingers pressed on the pulse of her wrist, waiting with terror its slightest acceleration. Business detained Mr. Harding in London much longer than the time he had specified. It was nearly a month before he arrived at Becklands, with his three companions. i 2 116 Farnorth. CHAPTER IX. Rose Cottage, which has been as the temple of Cybele for the last three or four years, is now profaned. The mirrors in the drawing-room re- flect the image of the tall soldier, and chairs and ottomans groan under his unwonted weight. The maiden sisters are in paradise. How proud they are of this large piece of humanity. How handsome and manly their boy is, the poor ladies think. Truly he is a fine, soldierly fellow, this Horace Snowe, lieutenant in her majesty's (I am not going to specify the regiment). Observe him as he is lolling upon the sofa — he has im- ported some lounging propensities from India — did you ever see a handsomer Englishman ? Look at the breadth of his shoulders, the depth of his chest, and the symmetry of limb, for which he is remarkable. His face is more open to criticism than his figure, yet it pleases you better than many a one more perfectly featured ; and mark Horace returned from India. 117 how finely the head is poised. Miss Alathea will not have much difficulty in manipulating its de- velopments, for the hair is cut as close as close can be. A thick moustache shades the soldier's upper lip, and mingles with those whiskers re- ferred to in his letter. He was quite correct when he pronounced on their colour — they are of the hue doated upon by the pre-Kaphaelites, and regarded with considerable favour by me. Good looks are not the only heritage of Horace Snowe. He is a noble-hearted fellow, perhaps a little pas- sionate and hasty in temper, but brave, honest, and brim-full of manly tenderness ; being a true Britisher, he is of course rather ashamed of this last, and is disposed very frequently to reverse the whole fable, and fling the ass's skin over his lion strength. Miss Alathea is busily engaged arranging the butterflies which her nephew has brought her. Mary is making the tour of her district, and so the has bleu and the new arrival are alone this morning. " I can scarcely believe," said Horace, " that the wonderfully pretty creature who passed the gate just now is really Polly Dalton, the little girl I fished out of the lake, seven or eight years ago." 118 Farnorth. "Your sojourn in India has not improved your English, my dear boy. Yes, that is really the young person whom you rescued from a watery grave." " And a great benefit I conferred on society by so doing," said the soldier. " She is lovely as a moonbeam ; for that lunar simile best suits her pale young beauty." " Her face is about the best thing she has," said Alathea, condescending in her eagerness to com- mon parlance ; " she is " " Whatever her faults may be," said Horace, " she is of the look-in-her-face-and-you'11-forget- them-all species." " She is very selfish," said his aunt, " she is inflated with vanity, and has ideas not at all in accordance with her very humble position." " There you go," cried her nephew ; " you most feminine Britisher, with your pride of caste ; you are no better than the Hindoos. Because this little maid has not the yellow streaks upon her fair forehead, is she " " Don't be provoking, Horace," interrupted Miss Alathea. " I am not influenced by anything of the kind. This girl has not a good disposition. Observe the formation of her head." Phrenology versus Materialism. 119 "Nay, if you condemn the poor child on the strength of phrenology, I have done. Do you know, most sage lady, your pet science makes sad havoc with our moral responsibilities ? " " I do not understand you," said the has bleu. " Why, assuming persons to be sent into the world with bumps upon their heads, which, ac- cording to you phrenologists, indicate that they possess certain vices, they are no more account- able for their failings than a man is for limping if he has one leg shorter than the other." " That is a mere materialist's view of the question," said Miss Alathea, girding herself up for a strong controversy. "Mind as associated with matter " " I beg your pardon," said Horace, shirking the contest, " is there not some one ringing at the door bell?" " It is Zee" Harding," said Miss Alathea ; " I am so glad she has come." " You mean the Peruvian princess, daughter of the great nabob of Becklands, don't you ? " " Yes, I want you to see her so very much. She " Zoe's entrance stopped all further speech. The little lady was looking her best ; exercise and the 120 Farnorth. cold air had freshened her young cheeks, and brightened her dark eyes. She was smothered in costly furs. Zoe was excessively anxious to explain to her friend the reasons for her early visit ; indeed, she took such an infinity of pains on the subject that I am inclined to think some other motive, more powerful than the one she had assigned, ' had guided her tiny footsteps in the direction of Rose Cottage. I believe she wished to see the big soldier, and, in my opinion, the wish was perfectly natural. Those Belgravian beauties, who are never at a loss for some one to flirt with, and who frequent balls and soirees where partners are abundant, have no conception of the dearth of these desirables in a country town. The London belles complain that they have very few " eligibles " — they are most of them " detrimentals " they say. We must shatter a great many soda-water bottles before we acquire the certainty of aim which brings down a tiger. The pretty girls in Farnorth cannot have this rifle practice. The poor things have only had the young curate to say pleasant things to them for the last twelve months. The reverend bee in a honey-pot has caused some buzzing amongst the queens of his congregation. Horace introduced to Zoe. 121 His day will be over now, and I am glad of it. He has latterly been posing himself en grand seigneur. [I believe nice little Sophy Bland is very fond of him, and I am not certain whether he is as grateful as he ought to be] ; but as I said he has had his day. Sword will triumph over Gown, for the red rag is potent as ever with women and turkeys. " I wanted to consult La Bonte' about the quantity of coals and blankets to be given away this Christmas. Papa is from home, you know, and I should not have called so early, but " " You are always welcome, my dear, and more so than ever this morning. Permit me ;" and Miss Alathea went through the introduction in the good old-fashioned manner. The lady and gentleman bowed. Zoe was rather shy and bashful in the presence of this son of Mars. Young ladies in their teens about the time of the First Exhibition had not, I fancy, the delightful aplomb and ease of manner possessed by the charming crinolined belles of the Great International Second. " Papa is not coming home for some days," said Zoe, speaking very quickly and addressing Miss Alathea, so as to prevent the soldier having an 122 Far north. innings. " He has invited my newly-found rela- tives, and I am so busy making preparations for them." " Your aunt is better then ? " enquired Miss Alathea. " Much better than papa expected to find her, but she is still a great invalid, and change of air is recommended for her. Papa is charmed with my cousin ; he says she is quite beautiful. I am so anxious to see her, and now I must wish you good morning ;" and the small lady hurried away, without having exchanged one single word with the big gentleman, leaving him not a little piqued thereat. " Don't you call her pretty ? " asked Alathea, when the meteor had vanished. " Very," said Horace, shortly. " She is very original," said the aunt. " She did not give any proof of it to-day," quoth the nephew. " The few words she uttered had the usual flavour of young-ladyism." " She is so fresh in her feelings, so free from conventionalisms," continued the has bleu. "In these days, when society is so hag-ridden by con- formity, when a dragon is planted in the path to strangle at its birth the faintest bleat of self- Visitors to Hose Cottage. 123 assertion, it is quite refreshing to meet individu- ality of character." " I know some people take great pains to culti- vate blue roses; for my part, I prefer them of their natural colour," said the soldier sulkily. " Why Horace, what a turncoat you are ! " cried his aunt ; " I have so often heard you complain — " " Have you got to learn what inconsistent mortals we are, mia Zia ? But let me help you with your butterflies ; that death's-head moth has no business there ;" and so nothing more was said of the young heiress of Becklands. There were a great many visitors to Kose Cottage that day. It was really quite wonderful. Miss Alathea had been suffering from a slight cold, and every one was so very kind in making enquiries, as the amiable lady said. Mrs. Bland and her daughters brought some black-currant jelly [made by the dear girls themselves, as the relict told the invalid, so very nice and soothing for the throat you know]. Mr. Giles Houndly met Zoe Harding as she was returning home, and kindly accompanied her, though she could very well have dispensed with his escort. " Ahem ! So you have been to see the red- 124 Farnorth. whiskered nigger slayer, Miss Harding. The old maids will have plenty of visitors now, you may depend. Ahem ! men are scarce articles in Far- north. The Keverend Archibald Middleton is quite down in the mouth. The red-coat will put his nose out. All you young ladies will be pulling caps for this soldier with no name in particular. They say, ahem! old Mary Snowe is quite happy now she has her — nephew — as I suppose we must call him." Zoe's face was crimson with indignation. " Miss Mary Snowe," said the little girl, " is as happy as any one can be who leads so pure and good a life as she does. You are not likely to understand that kind of happiness I should say, Mr. Houndly." " That's one for me," quoth Giles. " Hang it, I like your spirit, young lady." [" That insignificant chit of Harding's, sir, is a downright vixen," he said to the next acquaint- ance he met. " Ahem ! they say there's a touch of the blacking-brush. I pity the man who gets her, heavily weighted though she may be, sir."] " They tell me you are expecting visitors at Becklands," he continued to his young companion. " My aunt, her husband, and daughter accom- pany papa on his return," she answered coldly. Giles's Venomous Hints. 125 " Nothing like a reputation for riches for bringing to light poor relations. Cousins to the for- tieth remove will remember their affinity, without any help from the herald's office ; just as they did in the days of old Oliver Goldsmith. The Plan- tagenets are coming back to Farnorth. Ahem ! we shall have something like entertainments again ; no vulgar ostentation, you know — things out of season, and that kind of display — but such dinners as these people with really good blood in their veins know how to give. How was it you walked alone this morning ? Madame did not approve of that call at Kose Cottage, eh, Miss Zoe ? Good morning, I have a meeting to attend in the town." And, so speaking, Giles relieved the little heiress of his unwelcome presence. In spite of that opinion the soldier had ex- pressed about the blue and red roses, it was wonderful how very anxious he was to see the Peruvian princess again. He remained at home for several mornings, and although he pretended to take a great interest in arranging those butter- flies for Miss Alathea, I know very well what kept him within doors. He was not rewarded. Giles's venomous hints had stung little Zoe', and she exiled herself from her friends. Then my lord 12G Farnorth. Rufus volunteered to accompany Mary -Snowe in her visits of charity. His tall figure might be seen any day in the small cottages. He was a very Solomon in the advice he gave about the proper distribution of coals and blankets. He contributed liberally to the fund, and made glad the hearts of his aunts by his benevolence. He was always as liberal as the day, they said. The hypocrite affected surprise when he met the young mistress of Becklands at one of the cottages ; as if he had not heard of Zoe's charities almost the moment he arrived at Farnorth. The little girl had quite rallied from that fit of bashfulness of hers, and Horace had no reason to complain of a want of originality in her re- marks. He has said he did not admire blue roses. So, I suppose, it was simply curiosity which made him so eagerly inhale the fragrance of this one. Zoe has finished all her hospitable preparations for her expected guests. That suite of rooms, commanding such a lovely view of the Bay, is to be devoted to them. The two bed-rooms and dressing-rooms communicate with a charming bou- doir, where, as the young mistress says, " my aunt and cousin can retire when they are weary of our The Last Evening in the Lodging- House. 127 company." Madame still does not relish the idea of this influx. I believe she is only influenced by jealousy, but she declares that she is " horriblement prevenue contre ces gens." And she will not ad- mire or take interest in any of the arrangements. It is the last evening the Silvesters will have to pass in those apartments in ISToname Street, Fashionable Square. Madam, the landlady, has presented her little account and been paid in full; a handsome douceur has also been given to the maid of all work. All the confiding tradespeople, who were requested yesterday to lose no time in forwarding their bills, as the parties were about to leave town, have done so in simple faith. If they live until they are paid, the venerable Parr was as a youth cut off in his early prime, compared to them. " Our movements are so very uncertain," said Algy, when he politely wished good bye to his hostess the following morning, " it may possibly be a week before we are settled, I will write immediately we are so, and enclose a cheque, which you will perhaps be kind enough to distri- bute amongst these different claimants," he added, as he gathered the many gentle reminders into a neat packet. 128 Farnorth. [The landlady has not received the promised letter, and those civil creditors are as raging wolves ; and yet, Algernon Charles Silvester would have shot any man who called him a welsher.] Mr. Harding gave a very fine dinner at his hotel to his relatives, the last night he was in town. "You had better go to bed at once, Maria," said Algy to his wife, when they had returned to their apartments. "You have a long journey to make to-morrow." " I feel very unwell," groaned his helpmate, " I have such a fluttering in my side, and a tingling in my arm. The landlady says they are very dangerous symptoms. I'm no more fit to travel than anything," she added dolefully. "You've eaten too much dinner, and want sleep," said her affectionate husband. " I tell you what, Clarry, that heart complaint is the best idea I ever swooped upon," he said to his daughter, when he had disposed of his better half. " It has been j)owerful in laying the ghosts of her other grievances," said Clara. "I do not think she has alluded to her loss of fortune once this evening. "I told her that a constant recurrence to it Clara's Suspicions aroused. 129 was very exciting for her in her present weak state of health. 'Gad, she believed me, Clarry," said Algy, showing his white teeth. " This newly found uncle of mine can take a great quantity of wine," said Clara, thoughtfully. "That he most certainly can. By George," cried Algy, " I never in my life met a fellow who could polish off so much. I thought I could carry off my two bottles as well as any man, but I'm a fool to Harding ; and he's no more affected by it than if he drank water, is he ? " Clara d id. not ans wer h er father. She had thrown herself back in her chair, in her favourite attitude, and her beautiful eyes were fixed upon the fire. " That man has a Lazaretto," she said at last. " A what ? " cried Algy in amazement. " I have watched him very narrowly lately. His pest house may have but one tenant, but the scaly monster leads his keeper a weary life." " What are you driving at Clara ? are yon gone wild, girl ? What on earth do you mean ? " said her father. " I mean that your rich brother-in-law is a very unhappy man, and that he hides an ugly secret somewhere." " By Jove ! if he does, I know who will unearth VOL. I. K 130 Farnorth. it. You are as good as a Bed-skin in hunting one down, if you once get on the trail, Clarry." " There is not a bent twig, not the faintest foot- print as yet to guide me through the maze," said Clara. " Has Midas ever alluded to his Peruvian life?" "Never once; he is the very closest fellow I ever came across. He must have led a queer vagabond life for those many years that we have heard nothing about him ; and yet you would think, to look at him, that he had never left the haunts of civilisation. He don't give one the idea of being a happy man, as you say, Clarry. 'Gad if I stood in his shoes, I would be as jolly as a sandboy, if I had half-a-dozen skeletons hidden in my blue chamber." "He has evidently a more tender conscience than you are gifted with. I am certain he has something on his mind — I " " Well, my handsome American-Indian, you will shortly have plenty of time and opportunity to hunt that something out ; but I doubt whether the game will be worth the chase ; and now I must say good night," said Algy, " I shall have a splitting headache to-morrow, I know," he mut- tered, as he retired with rather unsteady steps to his sleeping chamber. Scene at Beclclands. 131 CHAPTER X. Snow lies very thick upon the hills of Farnorth. The tarns and ponds are frozen hard. The blan- kets and coals so liberally distributed amongst the cottages are real boons. Such an inclement season has not been known for years. "It is a reglar ade-fashioned Curstmas," the poor people say. . The large drawing-room at Becklands is ml- liantly lighted. The rich silk curtains are closeiy drawn. Powder and Plush are arranging the dining-table : it glistens with glass and silver. Bright fires burn in every room. That suite of apartments apportioned to the coming guests is redolent of comfort. The little hostess, charmingly arrayed — the sheen of her dress resembles the plumage of the pheasant's breast — is trying to curb her impatience with crochet. Madame sits with, her hands unemployed. She is still haunted with a dread lest these people should look upon k2 132 FarnortL her " comme menagere" as she says, and the idea is quite insupportable. The carriage has been gone to the railway sta- tion some little time. Hark ! there is a sound of rapid wheels crunching the hard gravel ; the house-dog barks furiously, the fairy web drops from the hands of the fabricator ; Madame re- mains gloomily composed, she will not compro- mise her dignity one iota. The door-bell is pulled violently ; the house-dog's fierce bark changes to a bay of welcome. Black Sam's face looms in the open doorway, and shows to advantage in a background of snow. Mr. Harding comes rapidly forward ; in a moment Zoe is gathered closely in his arms. Three individuals, wrapped in their travelling cos- tumes, gaze on the meeting. The little hostess disengages herself from her father's embrace, and hospitably welcomes the arrivals. She kisses her aunt and cousin ; Algy approaches to share the same favour, but a small hand is given this time instead of the rosy lips. The light in the hall falls upon Mrs. Silvester's peevish face. Clara's beauty is hidden beneath a thick veil. " You must be very tired," said Zoe. " Will you go to your rooms at once ?" "I am half-dead," whined Mrs. Silvester, "I Advent of the Silvesters. 133 told Mr. Silvester I was no more fit to travel than anything ; but no one cares for what I say." "You will perhaps feel better after you have had some dinner," said Zoe ; " it will be ready in half-an-hour. Don't hurry yourself, dear aunt." "Hurry myself indeed, child," cried the lady. " Do you know I might fall a corpse at your feet any moment, if I were to walk too quickly. Oh dear me ! I hope we have not to climb up many stairs." "Your rooms are on the first floor. I selected them in order that you might have as little fatigue as possible." Half-a-dozen more groans, and Mrs. Silvester is landed in her dressing-room. A neat elderly maid is stationed there to attend upon her. Annette, Zoe's own particular body-guard, offers her services to assist mademoiselle ; but mademoi- selle very soon dismisses her. A personal attend- ant is about the only one appanage of fme-ladyism which Clara does not affect. "The assistance they render you does not compensate for their prying propensities," she says, in speaking of this class of servitors. Clara breathes a sigh of intense satisfaction, as she looks around on the appointments of her room. 134 Farnorth. The rich crimson silk curtains, the thick Turkey carpet, the many wax lights, the marble bath, with hot and cold water obedient to a turn of the finger, the choice engravings on the wall, the crackling cheerful fire, and the large handsome mirrors, reflecting all this luxury, form an ensemble inexpressibly agreeable to the beautiful sybarite. " Life is enjoyable enough with these adjuncts,' , she says, as she arranges the thick coils of her magnificent hair. Truly no maid in the world could have better preserved the Grecian contour of that head than its fair owner has done. Never have those mirrors reflected anything more beau- tiful than Clara, when her toilette was finished. Her father knocked at the door. "Are you ready, Clarry ? " he said. " May I come in ? " and Algy, inducted into his tightest evening dress, presented himself. " I call this something like," he cried, rubbing his hands. " 'Gad, it suits my complaint to a T. My cousin Shorthorn has not a better establish- ment. A pompous butler, two powdered flunkies, the black valet, and buttons. I took them all in at a glance, as we stood in the hall. By Jove ! you are handsomer than ever to-night, ma belle ; Pleasant Anticipations. 135 you are dressed a merveille. I don't think much of that little filly of Harding's." "Yes, you do," said his daughter; "you are too good a judge of beauty not to admire her. Elle est gentille a croquer. We need not waste any lies on that subject." " She would put her backers a very long way in the hole if you entered for the stakes against her," said Algy. " Why, you are as big again as she is." " If beauty be estimated by the number of its inches," replied Clara, with a smile, "I should certainly win in an easy canter, as you would say. That is the dinner-bell," she added, as the sonorous peal went through the house. "We shall have no end of a feed," said her father. "Harding keeps a French cook. If we could only fix ourselves here en permanence, Clarry ! The worst of it is we are only just tolerated visitors," he continued, ruefully. "Gather the rosebuds while ye may," sang Clara, gaily. " The champagne sparkles now ; buvons, it is the best of all philosophy." " 1 must go and do the attentive," said Algy, " and arm your mother down stairs. She was in a bad mood when I left her." 136 Farnorth. Mrs. Silvester has attired herself in a plum- coloured moire ; her pale hair is carefully braided beneath a rich blonde cap. She has added this head-dress since her husband left her, and she considers it so very becoming that her face looks quite amiable by reason of her self-satisfaction. She is a little overwhelmed with Plush and Pow T der at dinner — you know it is many years now since she has been so waited upon. Algy and his daughter adapt themselves easily to their position. "Miss is a fine gal, but huppish," is the verdict of the servants' hall. Zoe and Madame can scarcely withdraw their eyes from the beautiful girl who moves with such queenly grace in the large rooms. " We have very little amusement to offer you in this Sahara of ours, Clara," said Mr. Harding. "No fetes, no balls. My little girl is only just emancipated from the school -room. She is satis- fied with her prison walls as yet ; but I expect her to complain in a short time. There are many young' ladies in the neighbourhood, but the rougher sex is in a fearful minority. By the way, I understand Eose Cottage has a new inmate. Have you seen Miss Snowe's nephew, Madame?" he said, addressing that lady. I am very glad he did not direct Ins question Stolen Fruit. 187 to Zoe, for the little maid was blushing to the roots of her hair. Clara regarded her closely. "The silly fly is meshed already," she thought, scornfully. Madame was quite eloquent in her praise of Horace Snowe. " I will call upon him to-morrow, and ask him to join us at dinner. I will also invite the Reverend Archibald," said the master of Beck- lands. " I" shall expect you young ladies to give us a concert afterwards. You will have to practise, Zoe. Clara is an admirable musician." Indeed, she was well entitled to her uncle's praise. She was a perfect mistress of both the harp and piano. Stolen fruit is said to be the sweetest. Possibly the same rule applies to a stolen education. Clara's had been robbed from hard-working women and needy professors, and yielded a far finer flavour than Zoe's legally obtained and honestly paid for. * * * * "You sing Spanish songs, I see," said Clara, looking up from the portfolio she was examining, late in the evening of her arrival, when she, her cousin, and Madame were alone. "Spanish is as much my native language as 138 Farnortk English," replied Zoe. " You know I have lived the greater part of my life in South America." "I know nothing of the kind, senorita," said Clara, smiling. " Never was any one more lament- ably ignorant of the antecedents of a newly-found cousin than I am ; you must tell me some particulars," she added, seating herself close to Zoe on the sofa. "Commence at once, Made- moiselle la Raconteuse." "Shall I begin after the fashion of Robinson Crusoe : I was born of respectable parents ? " " Qa va sans dire," said Clara, " et puis ?" "Mamma died when I was very young. She was a Peruvian. My earliest recollections are associated with my kind friend here," and she took Madame's hand in hers. Madame kissed her pupil " avec effusion." Clara regarded this interruption a little dis- dainfully. " Your papa was with you, I suppose," she con- tinued. " Not always ; he had the management of some mines in Mexico, which kept him from home for months together. We lived at Lima very quietly after mamma died. I cannot make out an in- teresting story for you, as you see." The Inquisition. 139 " You have been in England four or five years, have you not ? " demanded the inquisitor. " Yes, when grandpapa died we quitted Lima, and soon after we arrived in England we settled here. It was so amusing, Clara. When we first came, Farnorth sent us to Coventry. As soon as papa was successful we became quite popular." "Do you like any of the natives?" enquired her cousin. " Some of them very much indeed. I have two very dear friends who live at Eose Cottage, a short distance from here." " The aunts of the martial hero who is to grace your table to-morrow ? " Zoe nodded, and continued speaking rather hurriedly. "Miss Mary Snowe," she said, "is still very lovely, and so good." Her cousin curled her lips, as though she could very well have dispensed with this latter qualifica- tion. " I don't like good people," she said ; " they are always stupid." [The beauty indulged freely in this species of candour — it was very effective. "Clara never 140 Farnorth. pretends to be better than she is," her youog companions say.] Zoe smiled. "Indeed, it is quite true," said her cousin; " since my youth upwards I have held the same opinion. There is not the shadow of a doubt that everything in this world that is nice is naughty, and vice versa. To be good is not to be happy, whatever the copy-books may say; but I must not infect you, sweet innocence, with my wicked principles. Do you keep late hours here ? I am very sleepy." "Pray don't stand on any ceremony, Clara," said Zoe. " I hope you will sleep well ; and I do hope poor papa will have a good night," she added, with a sigh. "Does he not sleep well?" said Clara, with far more eagerness in her manner than she had shown during the last few minutes. " He is a wretched sleeper ; sometimes he will walk backwards and forwards the whole night long." " What a miserable state of things. Has he been always the same ? " "Ever since I can remember. He is always the worst after a journey ; more particularly a sea The First Bent Twig. 141 voyage. I cannot bear to hear the mention of Paris." The listener is wide awake now. Has she come to the first bent twig already ? " Paris ! He has friends there probably." " Not friends exactly. Papa is very anxious to extend his French connection; and he has had great difficulty about some contract with a Mon- sieur Feme. I believe his last visit was success- ful ; so I do hope we shall have no more of the Straits of Dover." Clara's interest has quite died out. " Pshaw ! " she said, impatiently ; " mere busi- ness worry." Zoe stared at the speaker's tone. Clara re- covered herself, apologised for her brusquerie, and bade her cousin an affectionate good night. " Her baby ship knows nothing," was her deci- sion when she was once more alone. "She is not one to keep a secret. What is the ghoul this man rises in the night to feed, as Amina did ? Shall I ever trace it?" and she was lost in reverie for some time. The good influence of the blonde cap soon faded away. Mrs. Silvester was herself again the next morning. She complained so bitterly of 142 Farnorth. her sufferings, that Zoe in alarm called in Dr. Banques. The worthy gentleman gave a most favourable opinion of the invalid's case. "Not the slightest symptom of organic disease I can confidently assure you, madam," he said to the anxious patient. " Nothing in the world but a little indigestion," and he concluded with some learned remarks about the "gastric juices, ab- normal action of the diaphragm," &c. &c. This comforting assurance only diverted the lady's complaints back again into the old channel. A new auditor was a boon to her, and she so deluged poor Zoe with her woes, that the little girl, in spite of her good nature, was not disposed to contradict Clara, when that young lady, with her usual candour, declared " Mamma was the most tiresome creature on the face of creation." Mr. Harding did not forget his promise to call at Kose Cottage and invite the soldier. Horace Snowe very willingly accepted that invitation; so likewise did the Keverend Archibald when he received a similar summons. Sword and Gown arrive together. The tall soldier looks remarkably handsome. He is not in the least bashful, and his chivalrous manner with women is particularly insinuating. Haughty The Soirte. 143 Clara descends from her stilts and talks to the red-coat. The Eeyerend Archibald does not alto- gether enjoy himself ; he feels somehow impressed "with a sense of his personal insignificance. He is nobody this evening. None care whether he throws the handkerchief to them or not. It is a new part for him to play, and one that he does not like. He glares savagely at Horace, and scowls at the nonchalant ease of the hero. He smiles bitterly as the soldier relates that fight with a tiger in India. " I'll be bound the fellow was in no end of a funk," his Keverence, who has not forgotten his college slang, murmurs. The good-looking curate has lorded it grandly you know at all the tea fights in Farnorth, and he votes this evening slow, as he subsides into stereoscopic views, and talks learnedly about conic sections to Algy, who, not understanding a word, is scarcely altogether felicitous in his answers. Sword is unconscious of frowns from Gown, and, devoted worshipper of beauty as he is, enjoys himself to the utmost. Clara's rich contralto notes fill the large room, and melt the hearts of her listeners. How magnificent she looks as she draws those full chords from the harp. The 144 Farnorth. graceful white arms wreathe themselves round the instrument. Her lovely face seems lit with inspiration. "I never in my life saw any one more gloriously beautiful," Zoe hears the soldier say, and she feels a sinking at the heart, for which she bitterly reproaches herself. " Surely I am not envious ? " the poor child says. " What is this new feeling crawling about me ?" Clara discussed the guests, in her own fashion, when they had departed. "The soldier is well-mannered and well-in- formed," she said; "moreover, he is very hand- some, which is in itself a recommendation. Your man of peace is decidedly objectionable," she added. "Did you speak to him?" said Zoe, with a smile. "Not one word, petite cousine; but I heard some of his remarks, and through small openings you may see extensive prospects — I quote Miss Edgeworth. The man is a conceited puppy." "He is a veiy great favourite amongst the young ladies of Farnorth," said Zoe. " Probably ; in the kingdom of the blind the one-eyed man is king." "You are very severe, Clara; I am afraid we Zoes Talisman. 145 neglected his "Reverence," said Zoe, rather dole- fully. " Never distress yourself about that, little one," said her cousin ; " if we lopped off one head from his vanity this evening, the hydra will spring- again to-morrow. How long has the red-coat been making les beaux yeux at you, ma belief she added suddenly." " I don't understand you," said poor little Zoe, blushing painfully. " Yes, you do, petite. Happy little girl ! you are possessed of a talisman which commands success." " What do you mean, Clara ? " " You have the golden wand, which makes age and ugliness more powerful than youth and beauty. You have the magic charm which christens vice, virtue ; and dubs deformity lovely." Zoe felt as if she could very well have dispensed with this prestige." " You will have worshippers by the dozen," con- tinued her cousin ; " they will swear they adore you for yourself alone. Poor little lambkin ! it is your golden fleece these wolves will covet." " I do not believe men could be capable of any- thing so contemptible, "said Zoe indignantly; "I VOL. I. L 146 Farnorth. will not believe they would sell their truth and barter their honour for " "Oh, Moses and green spectacles !" cried Clara. " What Arcadian simplicity ! There is positively an aroma of newly mown hay about you, little Zoe. I dare say you believe there are Jacobs living in these days who would patiently serve fourteen years for the bride of their affections. Bali! the men in this year of grace may fall in love with Kachael, but they will jilt her and marry Leah, if the weak-eyed elder sister be better portioned. I have chattered your roses away child ; good night ; may your dreams be happy." " I have made Mademoiselle Dives sufficiently uncomfortable," said Clara to herself, as she sank back in her luxurious bergere. " I meant to do so — are all the sweets of life to be hers ? " "she added bitterly. " The silly baby has lost her heart to this soldier already ; well — " a slight shadow fell over the beautiful face of Algy's daughter, but she did not utter any more of her thoughts aloud. The Story of Emmeline Snowe. 147 CHAPTER XL The intelligent reader has already, I am con- vinced, drawn sage conclusions in re that portrait of a fair girl, which has latterly been added to the collection of pictures adorning the walls of Eose Cottage. The maiden ladies have not chosen to gratify the curiosity of Farnorth callers. Zoe Harding knows this painting is tabooed ground. Miss Alathea, when too closely pressed by tactless inquisitors, has dressed truth in rather equivocal garments ; but no mystery has been observed with Horace Snowe. The soldier knows very well it is the likeness of his dead young mother, Emmeline Snowe. Hers is a sad story, whether unmixed or not with shame and guilt heaven only knows ! Steam was in its infancy, and scarcely a line of rail laid in any part of the United Kingdom, when Admiral George Snowe purchased some pro- perty in Grand Crag, North Devon, and brought his three young daughters to live with him in the l2 148 Farnorth. pretty cottage on his estate. The old sailor had seen plenty of active service ; had given one limb to his country, and very much crippled the others. A greater martinet had never trod the quarter- deck ; and when he retired on full pay, he carried his tyrannical propensities into his domestic circle. He had no son, and his wife being dead, lucky woman! his three poor girls were the sole vic- tims of his cantankerous humours. Alathea was several years older than the other two. She had some influence with her father, and she con- trived to adapt herself pretty well to the whims of the savage old disciplinarian. Mary's sweet temper made her ductile in his hands, but Emmeline, his youngest child, was pretty nearly always in a chronic state of mutiny ; she developed gout in her father's system more persistently than the quantity of port wine and strong grog he daily drank. Alathea was, even in those days, an incipient has bleu, and, in nursing her scientific bantlings, found some consolation for her father's daily bully in gs. Mary was permitted to indulge her passion for tending the sick and suffering, so that her time did not hang heavy on her hands ; but poor Emmeline, who was neither a scholar nor a saint, chafed in her bondage. The two younger girls were both eminently beautiful, even The Young Mutineer. 149 the rigid sumptuary laws enforced by old Neptune could not conceal their extreme loveliness. The fame of their beauty spread far and wide, the more so, perhaps, from the mystery of their excessive seclusion. They were not permitted to join in any of the amusements of their young neighbours. If the old man of the sea had been a Roman Catholic, he would most assuredly have immured his three girls in a convent ; as it was, he carried his parental powers up to its utmost limit — a daily walk with him was their most lively recreation. The young mutineer sometimes broke through bounds, and was en penitence for days together for surreptitious lonely wanderings. The sisters were all very fond of each other, but the attachment between the two youngest was something won- derful. If Emmeline ever submitted to her stern father's rules and regulations, it was through gentle Mary's influence. Admiral Snowe, arbitrary old savage though he was, had, however, his heel, and it was this one weakness of his which formed the nucleus of that grim skeleton which most assuredly killed him, and which has darkly shadowed the whole of his two elder daughters' lives. The gruff sailor considered himself a great connoisseur in the fine arts, his specialite was his taste in paintings. 150 Farnorth. This was, as most of his acquaintances knew, his most vulnerable part. He had spent a great amount of money at different times on this hobby — money he could not in the least afford to waste, as he was considerably embarrassed with debts incurred many years ago. When Mary was eighteen, and Emmeline about seventeen years of age, the old man, their father, one day received a note from an artist, who had been staying some little time at Grand Crag. He was a complete stranger, no one knew any- thing about him ; but the Admiral and his daughters had frequently passed him in their daily walks. This gentleman, Mr. James Smith, opened the communication with an apology for intruding himself on the Admiral's notice, but he had heard of that gentleman's taste in matters of fine art, and he should feel greatly gratified if he might be permitted to submit to the judgment of so excellent a critic some sketches he had made of views in the neighbourhood. The paintings were not for sale, the artist said, he was anxious only for a verdict of approval. The old sailor's vanity was mightily tickled by this diplomatic epistle, and he wrote a civil assent, appointing a meeting at Trafalgar Cottage for the next morning. The artist was punctual ; he was a very handsome The Handsome Young Artist. 151 young man, with easy manners. Infinite tact also must Mr. James Smith have possessed, for, though obsequiously civil to the master of the house, he utterly ignored the presence of his three daughters. The Admiral was charmed with his visitor, and gave the sketches the stamp of his unqualified approval. The acquaintance thus commenced ripened into intimacy, and Mr. James Smith was solicited to give lessons in his art to the three young recluses. This he at first refused to do, but upon being pressed on the subject, he finally consented. Some weeks passed. A great change for the better was observable in Emme- line's general conduct. She was rarely en peni- tence now. There was a light in her eyes, and a bright bloom on her cheek, which made her more beautiful than ever. She devoted herself with the greatest industry to her new pursuit; but neither she nor her sisters made any great progress. Admirable artist though Mr. James Smith's paintings proclaimed him to be, he, like many other good artists, did not possess the gift of imparting his powers to those he instructed. All, however, went merry as a marriage bell, until one unlucky day, when a good-natured neighbour called and informed the Admiral that his daughter Emmeline had been seen walking 152 Farnorth. with the artist in one of the least frequented parts of the district! Thunder and lightening followed. The criminals were hauled up to justice. A court martial held ; Mr. James Smith dismissed with a volley of oaths and curses, and the feminine culprit locked up on bread and water for days. She was only liberated on parole when the artist's departure from Grand Crag was officially confirmed. Emmeline was an altered being when she emerged from her prison. She no longer mutinied; her spirit seemed quite broken, her bloom faded. She submitted to her father in everything, and the gratified tyrant gloated over his conquest, and relaxed his dis- cipline a little. One morning a great wail arose throughout Trafalgar Cottage. Emmeline was missing ! The Admiral cursed, and stamped, and swore, but all his noise could not find her. No one dare whisper their suspicions, but at first a dumb horror prevailed that the child had des- troyed herself. The silent agony of the poor sisters I will not attempt to describe. This great dread was removed by a rumour, subsequently confirmed by the good-natured neighbour, that a veiled lady, in figure very much resembling the youngest Miss Snowe, had filled a place in the High Flyer coach, which left Grand Crag at five JUmmetines Mopement. 153 o'clock that morning. Foaming Neptune started immediately in hot pursuit; but returned in a few days without the runaway. The driver of the High Flyer gave the following information. The veiled lady had been joined by a gentleman at the first large town where the coach stopped to change horses; he accompanied her a part of the way, and then they both got down and entered a carriage, which with four horses was waiting for them. In what direction they drove the deponent could not say. The Admiral stormed, and stamped, and swore himself into a fit, from which he never recovered. The old pagan died, savagely cursing his unhappy daughter. Very little of this world's goods remained to the poor girls after the death of their father. His income of course died with him, and what property he left was considerably encumbered with debt. They would not however part with the cottage. If their lost dove should ever return to her home, the nest would be ready to receive her. For days, and weeks, and months, their search after her was incessant ; they spent two-thirds of their income in fruitless enquiries. A little more than a year after her flight a letter, written in a strange hand, arrived for Mary Snowe. Its contents en- treated the ladies, if they wished to see their 154 Farnorth. sister Emmeline alive, to lose no time in hastening to the address given — some lodging-house in the West-end of London. Half-an-hour after the receipt of the letter Alathea and Mary left Grand Crag. They travelled night and day. When they arrived at the house in London, they were met by the landlady of the apartments. Her first words pierced with sharp agony the hearts of the weary miserable girls. Their sister was dead ! She had died in giving birth to an infant, whose plaintive, feeble cry was the first sound which fell on the sisters' ears when they entered the room where its young mother lay. Ah me ! what bitter scalding tears were shed over that poor senseless form — lovely even yet, with more than mortal beauty. The prim mistress of the house was moved by the sufferings of the mourners. She was a handsome woman, this landlady, but there was something sinister in her face. She had only one attendant, a Belgian, to whom English was an unknown tongue. Madam of the apartments was eagerly anxious to communicate all the particulars she was able to give to the sisters ; but her words threw no light on the black mystery which to this day shrouds the memory of Emmeline Snowe. Three weeks ago, the landlady said, a gentleman — who, from her description, Death of JEmmeline. 155 exactly corresponded with the artist, Mr. James Smith — had hired her apartments for a lady. He was accompanied by this lady on his second visit ; she was the unhappy girl now lying dead. They brought very little luggage with them. The gentleman remained two or three days with the lady and then left her. She appeared tolerably cheerful, and occupied herself with preparations for her expected baby. A fortnight after her arrival the gentleman's friend or servant — the landlady was unable to decide which of the two he was — called and made some communication to her lodger, which so affected her that she was thrown into violent convulsions. The friend, or servant, before leaving, gave the landlady some money, as also the address of the sisters, entreating her to write to them at once. The poor lady never recovered her senses: she was taken with the pangs of premature labour, and died three days after her first seizure. It was the landlady's opinion that the gentleman had deserted the poor young thing, and the friend, or servant, had broken the intelligence to her: the shock had resulted in the death of the victim. There was no wedding-ring on the slight finger of the dead girl, and the unhappy sisters were left to draw the worst conclusions from this sad fact. The mortal 156 Farnorth. remains of Emmeline Snowe lie buried far away from her Devonshire home. The two weeping girls left London, carrying with them the poor deserted little orphan. The landlady was un- wearied in the enquiries she made afterwards, but nothing more was ever heard of Mr. James Smith and his friend. Alathea and Mary Snowe did not return to Grand Crag. They disposed of the cottage and estate there, and lived in different parts of England, until chance carried them to Farnorth. With their subsequent history the reader is already acquainted. Rejoicings at Far-north. 157 CHAPTEK XII. Never since the accession and coronation of our Good and Gracious Queen, had Farnorth so arrayed itself as on this, the 1st day of February, 185-. Triumphal arches, built of prickly holly and evergreens, liberally supplied from most of the gardens in t\\e district, spanned the entrance to, and egress from the town. Bright-coloured flags fluttered from every pinnacle where they could very well be hoisted. One or two of the clubs walked. The children from the national and infant schools, dressed in their Sunday best, paraded the streets; two cannons, which had silently lived in retirement from time immemorial, were dragged from obscurity, placed in the most prominent position (the muzzle of one showed from the tower of the parish church), and made to utter thunder and belch forth white smoke the whole day long. The shops were all closed, and a universal holiday prevailed. And why? The monarch of Farnorth is this day to return to the 158 Farnorth. long-deserted home of his ancestors. Vassals and serfs have already arrived ; upholsterers and house-decorators have been busy for months. Foxcroft has emerged from its chrysalis state, and expands its butterfly wings. Domestic kine no longer browse on the aristocratic turf of Plantagenet Park. Those unsightly wire fencings are removed. The king shall enjoy his own again. A crowd of worshippers will meet Monseigneur at the railway station. It is whispered that some of these adorers will act, for this day only, as beasts of burden; human strength and human sinew T s will drag his majesty's carriage through the town of Farnorth. Sir Mortimer Plantagenet's baro- netcy dates from the earliest creation, and his ancestors were knights and squires of high renown long before the advent of the first James. If you will walk into the large picture-gallery at Foxcroft you will there see a goodly array of family por- traits : knights in armour ; long waisted, very decolletee beauties ; and their bearded cavaliers. The lovely Winifred Plantagenet occupies a prominent position. She lived in the early part of the fifteenth century, and the Mrs. Grundy of her day cackled not a little about her ; but she died in the odour of sanctity, and was buried in the sacred cemetery of the Convent of Sancta Magda- Portraits of Ancestors at Foxcroft. 159 lena, whose abbess she was. Take notice also of the fierce-looking cavalier with the peaked beard, who scowls upon you from the top of the room. He was a favourite knight and attendant upon the Lion King, Richard, to whom he was distantly related ; he distinguished himself in the Holy Wars, and slew more Saracens and Turks than there are days in the year. Leave the picture- gallery and look in upon the large dining-hall. Its walls are made glorious by the works of Keynolds and Laurence. Observe how skilfully these great artists wrestled with the hideous dress of the period. I have mentioned before that a portrait of the first gentleman in Europe occupies the post of honour. Flanking the * Wreck of the Royal George ' are pictures, life-size, of the late Baronet and of Lady Marguerita, the first wife of son Altesse. She was of the most noble house of Overall ; a tall, stately looking woman must her ladyship have been, with perhaps a little too much bone for fastidious eyes, but thoroughly patrician notwithstanding. You may trace the aristocratic line in the Overall nose, which is high and Men prononce. No wonder the Plantagenets reigned • absolute monarchs of Farnorth. No wonder Farnorth prostrates itself down to the ground to do honour to its sovereign's return from exile. 160 Farnorth. Giles Houndly, Esq., of Gothic Hall, is one of the prime movers in all these loyal demonstrations. He convened the first meeting, and now his white hat may be seen waving ubiquitously all day long. Some of the inhabitants of the district hold them- selves sulkily aloof. These rebels are of the Liberal party — rank democrats and levellers, with- out a spark of the good old Tory spirit. These wicked Tells would have refused obeisance to the cap of Gessler. Why all this fuss ? the malcon- tents say. What good have the Plantagenets ever done to Farnorth ? Did they benefit the trade of the town when they reigned, years ago ? I am obliged to confess they did not. They rarely dealt with our local shops, and what they did order was never paid for. Of course they subscribed to the charitable institutions, and were bountiful with largesse to the poor of the neigh- bourhood, William Tell sarcastically observes. I cannot say so — Jones, the retired grocer, gives away more money in charity in a month than the Plantagenets gave in a year, and yet I don't think one of the inhabitants of Farnorth would harness himself to the good man's gig. Was the last king a virtuous monarch ? is the final enquiry of the rebels. Again candour demands a negation. A more profligate old pagan than the late Sir The Late Baronet. 161 Mortimer Plantagenet Plantagenet never wore out shoe leather. His majesty of Foxcroft had every vice of the Eegency period, and we all know how plentiful the crop was during that harvest. The Lady Marguerita was dragged through a slough of degradation by the well-born monarch — she could have obtained a decree in the divorce court fifty times over had she been so minded. Her present ladyship, nee Brown, had plenty of reason to deplore the change of her humble patronymic. After she met with that accident to her spine, her noble husband showered contempt upon her, and treated her shamefully. His reckless extravagance has so crippled the property that I doubt whether it will ever recover. He dissipated his daughters' fortunes, for which he was trustee during their minority, and has left the poor ladies almost dependent on their brother. Farnorth has woven a romance that his death was hastened by the loss of his eldest son. Bah ! his quarrels with his firstborn were public property. He drank more deeply when the news first arrived ; but the catastrophe did not shorten his days one hour. He led the same infidel life up to the time of his death. You might see his padded figure, his purple-dyecl head, and his wicked, leering old face, at any of the VOL. I. m 162 Farnortk fashionable watering-places on the continent for years after he left Farnorth and was supposed to be dying of a broken heart. The only benefit he ever conferred on society -was on that day when he was impotent to resist the fit which finally choked him. [Our parish church was hung with mourning for several Sundays afterwards.] Of Monseigneur, the present Baronet, I can only say that, if all reports be true, he is a dutiful son in planting his feet in the footprints of his deceased father. The church bells ring out a yet merrier peal, the cannons boom, the loud huzzas of the multi- tude draw nearer and nearer. The crowd surges, and a lane is made ; the bray of the brass band has significance now — " The Conquering Hero comes." Twenty Farnorthites are harnessed to the car of triumph, the leaders pant with their exertions, it is a stiff rise from the station. In the middle of High Street the procession halts, the cheers are deafening. Mr. Giles Houndly's hat is wonderful in its gyrations, "his brow is wet with honest sweat," the buttons of his ample waistcoat have but a slender tenure on existence. Sir Mortimer rises to address the crowd; he is tall and slight, and the ladies vote him charming. You can see the contour of his cheeks, for he has Lady Plantagenet. 163 no whiskers; he looks younger than he is by reason of this abnormal smoothness. His white teeth glisten beneath the dark silky moustache which shades his upper lip. He flings bouquets of smiles to all the pretty girls ; the Snowdrop of Farnorth has to gather up many nosegays. His lady mother lies back in the carriage; she has never recovered from that accident to her spine. Mental and physical pain have laid their heavy hands upon her, there is scarcely any trace of lovely Nelly Brown in her pale haggard face. Edward Sparkles is straining his eyes eagerly to look at her. Ah me ! how that faded woman had wrung the lawyer's honest heart in the days long gone by. How many weary, slow, trailing days, how many fevered, restless nights were passed, how many scalding tears were shed, how many prayers to the Almighty uttered, before that unworthy love perished of atrophy, and was buried in the past, wounded vanity acting as grave-digger! No friendship sprang from those ashes. Do we ever forgive the man or woman who has betrayed us ? I think not. The slow consuming fire which has burnt out her ladyship's beauty, has greatly purified her inner nature ; she is as unlike in feeling as she is in appearance now to the giddy thoughtless girl m2 164 Farnorth. who queened it so haughtily during the first three years of her brilliant marriage. She is passionately fond of her son, and his affection for her is the one slight golden vein in the base clay of his nature. She is kind to her unmarried step-daughter, and shields her as well as she can from the cruel stabs of Sir Mortimer, when that gentleman is disposed in his playfulness to make a pincushion of the poor lady. He indulges very freely in this amusement, as he is not in the slightest degree troubled with delicacy of feeling ; the hippopotamus is scarcely more devoid of this weakness than he. Miss Winifred Overall Plantagenet is the second child of the late baronet. Her only sister Mar- guerita married a German baron ten years ago ; she was much handsomer than her eldest sister. Miss Plantagenet is an elderly woman now ; she has the bone and high features, as well as the blood, of the noble house of Overall. Time has not scattered his snow on her pale Saxon hair; but he has sadly thinned the partings. She sits coldly unmoved in the midst of all this excite- ment. There is no salt in this woman's life — it is vapid and tasteless. Romance hovered its bright wings over her youth ; but it took the shape of her brother's tutor, and flew away from Sir Mortimer. 165 the loud blast of parental indignation. Her lover is Dean of Northniinster now ; his name is great in clerical circles. I think Miss Winifred would have been happier with him even in his poverty, them stagnating thus in dreary splendour, and I know she holds the same opinion. Sir Mortimer is addressing the crowd ; but his words are well nigh drowned in the tumult. His head is uncovered, he has dark, curling hair, which he has not offered up to the Moloch of fashion. His features are regularly handsome, he has inherited the beauty for which his mother was remarkable, and which won her such a brilliant position ; but he has not a good face. His movements are all studied, he poses himself in most elegant attitudes, he passes his white fingers through his fine hair, and bows gracefully to the admiring multitude. The Farnorth beauties are in ecstasies with him, even Horace Snowe's sun sets temporarily, and the Reverend Archibald Middleton is permanently thrust into the shade. Sir Mortimer is a lady-killer, you know; Mrs. Bland announced that fact before he came. He has attained marvellous skill in this species of slaughter ; the headsman was not more dexterous in lopping off cabbage stalks than this noble executioner. He has broken more hearts and 1(56 Far mrth. vows than any man of his age in Europe. He carries about the locks of hair of his victims as the Keel-skin does the scalps of his foes ; he shows them as proofs of his prowess. He is altogether contemptible, tinsel, sawdust, and rags, and the ladies adore him. Is it the savage alone who worships his fetish ? It seems to me some clumsy wooden idols are niched in sacred places in this our Christian land. I have said the young Baronet was a dutiful treader in the footsteps of his deceased father. I am not going to sully these pages with more special reference to his vices. I shall treat only of drawing-room conquests, of misery inflicted on youthful hearts, of cruel wounds to self-love. Were I the father of a family I would rather lock up my daughters for life than admit this hand- some wolf into my fold. What grievous havoc he makes among the tender lambkins ! He will select the youngest and fairest, he will whisper his lies in her ear, and shower devotion upon her, day after day, evening after evening. He w r ill waste a wealth of energy in pursuit until the child's heart be won, et puis ? Insolent coldness, deadly stabs, studied neglect, shrugs of the shoulder, and Monsieur boasts to his friends of his conquest, votes it a bore, and nobody kicks him ! The Rebel. 167 Sir Mortimer lias finished speaking. There is a slight flush on his mother's cheek, her eyes are bright, the ghost of her dead beauty sweeps over her ladyship's face as she looks at her boy. Monseigneur seats himself, and the cortege moves. Human leaders and wheelers strain their sinews, but the worst part of their toil is over, the road is level now they are n earing Plantagenet Park! Rose Cottage is quite close to patrician Foxcroft. Its inmates have not joined the loyal subjects in their welcome to their sovereign — they, and the Becklands' people, are of the rebel party. Horace Snowe is smoking a cigar in the spinster ladies' garden when the procession passes ; he removes the weed from his lips and stands for a few moments at the gate. The sun is shining now, and its bright rays light up the fine figure of the Indian hero. Miss Winifred looks rather earnestly at the tall, handsome soldier; even maidens of fifty-three are not indifferent to good looks. Sir Mortimer's eyes fall in the same direction, and the monarch frowns as he sees the rebel's cap unlifted. He flings different bouquets this time to those the Farnorth belles have gathered, and the compliment is returned with interest. Horace is in a different way quite as haughty as my lord. I do not think any great 108 Farnorth. friendship will ever exist between these two men. An arch of evergreens spans the entrance to the lovely undulating park. Flags, bearing the Plantagenet arms (Gules, a fess argent in chief, three torteaux of the second), are hoisted at each side. The crest of this noble house is a sprig of the broom proper, bearing the Norman motto, " Si je veux je peux." The old gate-keeper, and his white-haired wife, come forward to do homage. There is something genuine and respectable in the moisture which dims the eyes of the venerable couple as they advance to greet their feudal lord. A pleasant light flitters over Miss Winifred's face as she takes the withered hands in her delicately gloved palms, and speaks a few kind words to the loving dependents. The affectionate devotion of old servants who have lived with you from your infancy has something infinitely touching in its simplicity. The pallid, worn woman, who holds their hands in hers, will never grow old in the eyes of these faithful servitors. Have they not held her in their arms, and listened with reverent delight to her baby prattle ? She is invested with the halo of perpetual youth to them, and they will speak of her as their eldest " young lady " to the day of their death. Triumphant Entry into Foxcroft. 169 Sir Mortimer does not offer his hand to his vassals ; he does not deign to vouchsafe more than the ghost of a smile in acknowledgment of their tribute. He is impatient at the delay, and speaks a few words to his elderly half-sister, which tinge her thin cheek with a faint colour. Leaders and wheelers break into a sharp trot. On, on, through the green park ; all semblance of tune vanishes from the bray of the brass band with the rapid motion. The screams and shouts become louder and louder; the caws of provident rooks, dis- cussing their domestic arrangements, are drowned in the clamour. On, on, through the wide avenue; the hoar-frost has melted on the ever- greens, bright drops glisten on their leaves, and bedew the hard ground. The Foxcroft mansion looms in sight. Leaders and wheelers relax their speed — it is time they did, the perspiration streams from the noble beasts. The shouts of the crowd reach their apex, the band recovers its breath, " Home, sweet Home," resounds through the air. Serfs in powder and plush, and silken gowns, reverently bend and curtsey to the ground in the large portico. The young monarch descends, he assists his mother, she is unable to walk, vassals and serfs advance and bear the poor lady in their arms; Miss Winifred alights from the car of 170 Farnorth. triumph as best she can. The royal family bow graciously to their subjects, and sweep through a line of serfs into the palace of their forefathers. " Bring out the foaming tankard ; pass the generous wine: it was our fathers' custom, and so it shall be mine." Alas ! for the decadence of the present day. Leaders and wheelers, shouters, screamers, and brayers return dry-lipped to their several homes at Farnorth. Reciprocal Visits. 171 CHAPTEK XIII. The Silvesters have been domesticated at Beck- lands some little time now. Farnorth lias done them honour; morning visitors have been very plentiful since their advent. The Plantagenet carriage, with its cream-coloured horses, and its almost regal liveries, has dashed up the avenue leading to the mansion of Theodore Baynes Harding. Lady Plantagenet, and her step-daughter, Miss Winifred, have more than once graced Zoe's drawing-room within the last three weeks; her ladyship has been most condescending, almost caressing, in her manner to the young heiress. The ladies from Becklands have returned these visits, and shivered for half-an-hour in the large morning-room at Foxcroft ; but as yet they have not been introduced to Monseigneur the Lord of Plantagenet Park. His majesty is most anxious to make their acquaintance, his lady mother says, but his time has been so fully occupied since his return to the home of his fathers, that he has not had a moment to call his own. 172 Farnorth. Horace Snowe is now a very frequent guest at Mr. Harding's table. The frank manly bearing of the brave young soldier is acceptable to the grave master of Becklands, and Horace is admitted to an intimacy denied to most of the other residents at Farnorth. Mr. Giles Houndly does not approve of this arrangement. " Harding must be mad," he says ; " does he intend his daughter to marry this red- whiskered giant, sir? Mary Snowe has been deep, very deep. I always knew she was artful, with all her methodistical humbug. Her nephew's a wise man, sir, a remarkably wise man ; the more creditable to him, as if all reports be true, ahem ! he hasn't inherited the recognised rio-ht to wisdom — eh, sir ? " he adds maliciously. Mr. Harding has no intention of marrying his daughter to the soldier, nor indeed to any one else at present. She is still a child in his eyes ; it was only the other day she was crying over her broken doll ; it never entered his head to imagine that danger might chance to the heart of his child, in this daily intercourse with a handsome, well- informed man. [I don't think fathers ever do calculate the evils likely to result from intro- ducing these wolves into their fold, though they call out lustily enough when the mischief is done.] Pleasant Pastime at Becklands. 173 Indeed Horace appeared to pay infinitely more attention to Clara than to Zoe, and perhaps the master of Becklands thought that the Indian hero, with the reversion of his maiden aunts' many thousands, would not be altogether a bad match for his beautiful portionless niece. And so the evening concerts went on, and the soldier, who had a well- cultivated voice, sang duets with Clara, and lounged through the spring mornings in the sunny drawing-room, and talked excellent French to Madame, with whom he was a great favourite, and joined the cousins in their sketching excur- sions, and improved their crude efforts with his master pencil, and thoroughly enjoyed himself, as you may easily believe. And Clara — is she contented to enjoy the peaceful present; to bask in all this luxurious comfort, careless of the future? Has she aban- doned that stealthy search of her's for the mystery which lies hidden in the deep potations, the haggard worn face, the sleepless nights, the weary absent manner of the most fortunate man in Farnorth ? No. In the prairie of daily routine, in the forest of social intercourse, in the maze of morning callers, the huntress is ever eagerly looking for the foot-print which is to guide her on her way. After that conversation with her 171 Farnortli. cousin on the first night of her arrival, she was disposed to imagine that the secret of her uncle's extraordinary depression might perhaps be trace- able to some confusion in his affairs. She feared the Midas of the North was not really so prosperous as he was supposed to be. Bankruptcy might be the grim phantom which paled his cheek, drove him to the wine-cup, and chased sleep from his pillow. But this impression was speedily removed by her father. Algy had made frequent visits to the Weasle ; he had been underground, and had seen with his own eyes the vast extent, the many heights of workings, of this wonderful California. There was enough ore developed, he said, to last ten years, even at the rate they were daily raising it. Algy had fraternised with the Cornish captain, and learnt all particulars connected with the mine. He had gone into the matter thoroughly, and having a tolerable head for figures, had arrived at such conclusions with regard to his brother-in-law's wealth, as immensely to increase his respect for that lucky Croesus. " We must stick to him like wax, Clarry," he said to his daughter ; " he is the trump card which will win us the odd trick. I like this life, my dear ; it may be a trifle slow, but it is confoundedly respectable. The dinners are good, the wine first-rate, and Harding lias some Madame 's Opinion of the Visitors. lib capital nags in his stable. If I could only get him on to the turf — but he has no leaning that way, worse luck," he added lugubriously. And so Clara continues her watch, and sighs, and loses heart almost, as the bright spring days go by, and she is yet no nearer on her way. Madame cannot reconcile herself to Zees newly- found relatives. You know she was prejudiced against them before they came. She has no reason to complain of a lack of civility ; they do not treat her " comme menagere" Mr. Harding observes a marked courtesy towards his daughter's governess, and his visitors take their tone from him; but Madame chafes at their presence. "These people are not sympathiques" she mur- murs in the privacy of her chamber. Monsieur's manners were odious to her, Madam wearied her, and Clara — the good lady did not even whisper to the walls what she thought of her. "Elle est d'une rare beaute," she said to Horace Snowe, and then she suddenly rushed to a more congenial subject — rapturous praise of her pupil. "My petite is beautiful as well," she said, " but one finds in her also a heart tender and compassionate, which renders more precious yet the gifts que lui a departis la nature' 1 176 Farnorth I think the remark was a little invidious to Algy's handsome daughter. Mrs. Silvester is growing almost amiable amidst the luxuries which surround her. It is pleasant enough to have all the advantages of an invalid without any of the evils, and she does not dislike the post assigned her. Dr. Banques attends her daily, and his ingenuity is taxed to find high- sounding names for her many ailments. " Cheer- ful society, carriage exercise, and a generous diet, my dear madam, are all you require," he says, and his patient takes care to attend to his direc- tions. She revels in the twaddle of morning- callers. I have said Farnorth has done honour to the rich man's relatives. Algernon Charles Silvester's name is glanced at by Barker ; you know he is first cousin to a noble viscount, and though my Lord Shorthorn utterly ignores his existence, he cannot efface the relationship. Algy has com- plained bitterly in these pages, that he might have been a tinker's son for all the good his blood has done him. Hitherto I cannot say it has been of very much advantage to him ; but Algy the bankrupt, the swindler, the associate of low black- legs — Algy, disowned by his aristocratic relatives, and leading a vagabond scrambling life — is alto- gether a different person to Algernon Charles Farnorth admires the Silvesters. 177 Silvester Esq., the guest of his wealthy brother- in-law. Farnorth is disposed to admire, and even imitate, the eccentric manners and conversation of the viscount's first cousin. Algy — advised thereto by his daughter — studiously keeps down his con- jugal silver veil in public ; but he has sworn he would not suffocate himself with it in private, and he does not. Mrs. Silvester has been savagely warned by her husband to avoid all reference to her life since her marriage, and so she consoles herself with pouring into the ears of obsequious visitors the many triumphs attending that golden period when she was a petted young heiress, with lovers as plentiful as wasps in September. A recurrence to that era of her life — " When I was staying at Woolwich with my maternal grand- father, Sir Theodore Baynes " — was as much to be dreaded, as the celebrated passage of arms at Haflinghem with which the elder Countess of Croye nauseated her friends and acquaintances. Farnorth is quite overawed by beautiful Clara. The cold, stately politeness of the haughty girl, has a withering effect on the good people. The reader may have observed, that in her conversa- tions with her father, the young lady is more voluble with slang than is altogether becoming ; but in her intercourse with the world in general, VOL. I. N 178 Farnorth. the most hypercritical can find nothing in her words or actions but what is essentially graceful and ladylike. Even prejudiced Madame admits that "the elegance of her manners indicates an education aussi sage que distinguee." Algy's daughter is also an obedient vassal to that tyrannical Vehme-Grericht presided over by Mrs. Grundy, and lectures her young cousin roundly, when that little lady is disposed to be rebellious. " A strict regard for les convenances is the black mail society levies," she says. " If we refuse the exaction, Smith, Brown, and Eobinson, will make a raid upon us, and bear away our repu- tation in their rieving fingers." And yet if I remember aright, Miss Silvester had snubbed her mother, when the poor lady had said something about propriety, when they were living in those apartments in Noname Street. " I had no position to maintain then*' Clara will tell you bitterly. Zoe would be puzzled to define her exact feelings towards her cousin. No one could more honestly admire this beautiful woman than does the little girl ; but the bold scoffing sentiments, so freely expressed by Algy's daughter, scare our rustic innocent. Miss Alathea Snowe has bewailed in Zoe a lack of development in the organ of Clara scares her Rustic Cousin. 179 causality — the phrenologist has declared that this want is shown in the tendency of her favourite to accept the surface. Clara is always removing the smooth level ground, and revealing to the shud- dering child the mouldering bones, the sinks and sewers, the many pit-falls, which lie hidden beneath this fair seeming. She strips off the gay motley, and shows the gangrened festering wound. She tears away the veil of illusion, and points to the paint and tinsel of the gaudy actors who stalk this mortal stage. " See how the child shrinks from the foot-lights and orange peel," she says. " My innocent Phyllis ! you must never leave your flock on the hills. Corydon shall come and tune his pipe in your praise, and, crook in hand, you shall trip it merrily together in Arcadia. Where shall we find Cory- don, my unsophisticated cousin ? " and she looks keenly at her companion. Poor Zoe cannot keep down those tell-tale blushes. " Perhaps he is already found," continues Clara. " Phyllis has flocks and herds, and shepherds are not then difficult to find. My little Zoe, I envy you." "I am a fit object for envy, truly," says her cousin, rather bitterly ; " if I possess, as you say, n2 180 Farnorth. the power of purchasing affection, I would rather win one heart than buy a thousand." " So would not I. Bright eyes fade, rosy cheeks wither, and the influence which has grown out of their beauty vanishes with them ; but les beaux yeux de 'nos cassettes never lose their power; they are potent to the end, if your marriage settle- ments be good. Phyllis must employ clever lawyers. Can she find them in Arcadia ? I hope so, or woe betide her flocks and herds. Yes, I repeat it — I envy you, little Zoe\ Farnorth is very fond of you, and so am I ; but I should not like you so well if you had not a rich father," says Clara, with that candour of hers which is so effective. Zoe laughs. " You never spare yourself, Clara," she says ; " but I am certain you do not believe in your cynical theories." " I tell you I do, and you will live to believe in them too, ma mie. At present you shut your eyes and will not see the thorns in your roses. The perfume of your flowers is all sufficient for you ; you are pleased with your puppets, and are angry with me for showing you the wires that work them ; but some fine day the thorns in your roses will wound you, the wires of your puppets get out of order, and the sawdust and rags reveal themselves, et puis, mademoiselle ? I shall grow Subtle Influence of Claras Conversations. 181 quite sentimental if I pursue this theme. I hear Dr. Banques' shuffling footsteps in the hall. Mamma must have exhausted the whole catalogue of her ailments, and will not be quite so tiresome for the next half-hour. I must seize the favour- able opportunity, as I have promised to walk with her to-day." Conversations such as these left an unpleasant effect on the little mistress of Becklands. It was in vain the child struggled against their subtle influence. Some of the seeds of distrust, so per- tinaciously sown by Clara, found root even in the candid and unsophisticated mind of her young cousin. Algy's daughter did not even spare the maiden sisters in her invidious hints : she did not attack their disinterestedness, after the fashion of Giles Houndly, Esq. ; she was far too clever a diplomate for that ; but in her praise of them, of which she was lavish enough, Clara contrived to convey inuendoes which Zoe felt without being able to define. " Is it really true, as Clara says ? shall I learn to doubt the motives of all who approach me?" she thinks as she finds herself gauging some kind and affectionate words uttered by Mary Snowe. The gentle recluses of Kose Cottage greatly admire Zoe's beautiful cousin. I think they will 182 Farnorth. not long remain under this glamour, but at pre- sent the elegance of her manners charms them. Miss Silvester is economical of those peculiar sentiments of hers in their presence. She affects an interest in Miss Alathea's studies, and as- tonishes the has bleu with the extent of her know- ledge. The sisters congratulate their dear young friend — her cousin must be such a delightful com- panion for her ; what a happy accident it was that brought about this pleasant union ; — and so the duet goes on, and their little listener upbraids her- self for her shocking ingratitude in not thoroughly appreciating the blessings of her position. For Zoe cannot deny to herself that she was happier before that night when the snow was lying thick on the hills, the fires burning brightly, and the watch- dog baying its welcome, than she is now. Clara has not accompanied her mother in her promenade. She has persuaded the good lady to call and pass an hour or two with Mrs. Bland. The widow is the most patient of all Mrs. Silvester's listeners ; she does not yawn or try to turn the conversation when the Woolwich triumphs are introduced, as less patient auditors are disposed to do. Algy's wife can maunder away as long as she likes about "niy maternal grandfather Sir Algy in Low Spirits. Theodore Baynes," and the amiable relict is all smiling attention throughout these long-winded inanities. I think I have mentioned that Mrs. Bland has a proper respect for the exalted in station, and she considers herself not a little honoured by these friendly visits from the wife of a man whose name is in the peerage. Clara having thus disposed of her mother, is seated with her father in that pleasant sitting- room, which the hospitality of the little chate- laine has assigned to her relations. Algy is not in good spirits. "If we live in this clover much longer," he says dolefully, "I for one shall never be able to endure scant pas- turage again." " I like the silver manger and the gilded oats myself, I must confess," rejoins his daughter. " 'Gad, it's the only kind of stall fit for such a handsome filly ; it's a shame you should ever have to turn out of it. And yet, what is to be done ? Harding only invited us here' on account of your mother's health. That fool Banques swears that her heart is not in the least affected, and it's not a bit of use my saying it is, when he tells her brother it is not. Midas is not overdone with fraternal affection, and no wonder. Maria treated him dooced badly. I think he likes you, Clarry, but 184 Farnorth. I don't get on over well with him myself; he is such a moody taciturn fellow. By the way, how about the lazaretto ? you have not run the leper to earth yet, young lady. I have not much faith in that hidden mystery, ma belle" "I believe in it more than ever," says Clara, " although I have not as yet found the slightest clue. The rich man is scared by no Frankenstein monster ; he is haunted by a dread of the grim majesty of the law." " By George ! Do you really think so, Clarry," cries her father, not a little excited. " 'Gad, if he has done anything slippery, and we could only find it out, it might be the making of us ; not but what it would be a confoundedly dirty thing to do, I must say," he adds rather ruefully. "Har- ding has treated us very well, and " " Mademoiselle Tartine, his daughter, knows nothing, I am convinced," says Clara, breaking in upon Algy's conscientious scruples. "If she did, you would have extracted it by this time. She is not like you, Clarry ; she is not made of the stuff which holds secrets." " I would throw my very bonnet into the fire, if I thought it knew mine," says Clara, para- phrasing that speech of the most detestable monarch that ever governed France- Confidential Parley. 185 "I believe you, my beauty. Chubb and Bra- inah locks are easier picked than you ; but a child might get anything out of Harding's little girl. And that reminds me — I tell you what, Clarry, Midas must look out sharp. I half suspect Miss Zoe has lost her heart to that long-legged fellow who comes here so often. It will be no use her going in for that little game, unless she wishes to be cut off with a shilling " " You think my uncle would act the part of the heavy father in a melodrama. I do not ; but I don't intend Zoe to marry Horace Snowe." " You don't intend ! 'Gad, Clarry, you speak so earnestly, one might almost suspect you wanted the red whiskers for yourself. I will never give my consent, ma filter All Clara's self-control cannot prevent that war of the roses in her cheeks ; but Algy, who has spoken at random, does not observe his daughter. She very quickly recovers herself. "Do not alarm yourself," she says in the old mocking tone. " I have no thought of linking myself to this nameless hero. A bright destiny truly, to follow the camp when my husband goes to the wars, or stay at home and do " Goody " all day long with an imbecile blue-stocking and a methodistical saint ; merci, mon pere." 186 Farnorth. " I was only in joke, my dear. With your beauty and talents, you may look for the strawberry leaves. I shall see you wear a coronet yet, Clarry." " Not if we return to the old vagabond life with its debts and duns. The Gunning days are over. You must have a certain position now, before you can look for matrimonial triumphs. It is too early to dream of coronets and strawberry leaves, we must " The entrance of Mrs. Silvester prevented any further confidential parley between the father and daughter. The Morning Post. 187 CHAPTEK XIV. The sun is shining brightly into the large oriel windowed room at Foxcroft. The cold atmosphere of splendour which has chilled morning visitors is dispelled by the warm friendly beam. Serfs in crimson liveries are removing the costly breakfast service ; Monseigneur, in an elegant ne'glige'e toilette, is lolling in an easy chair, discussing the contents of the post-bag. Frowns ruffle his lordship's fore- head, as he tears open the envelopes of some sus- picious-looking letters. He is high and mighty, we know, but the fairy-ring, which keeps off duns, does not surround Plantagenet Park. Sir Morti- mer, after a hasty perusal, crushes the unwelcome reminders in his dainty fingers, and with impartial justice flings the civil, plaintive, and angry ap- peals alike into the grate to feed the sickly flames, paling and dying in the sun's bright rays. Pink and scented missives, which have hitherto been almost hidden by their coarse companions, now assert their claims to notice. The Baronet does not frown as he masters their contents; a self- 188 Farnorth. satisfied smile mingles with the contemptuous interjections which occasionally fall from his lips, and he places the flimsy rose-coloured things carefully on one side, before he takes the morning papers in his hands. The pure mountain air of Farnorth has not yet chased the pallor from my Lady Plantagenet's worn face. She is lying on a couch placed in an embra- sure of the window, and the heavy velvet curtains bring out the colourless outline of her features in startling relief. Her large black eyes have a sunken weird look ; they tell a tale of more than mere physical suffering. The sad lines about her mouth are eloquent with a dumb misery. Time, alone, has not sown those silver threads so thickly in her hair; her ladyship has barely seen fifty summers, and yet the braids which shadow her deeply-lined forehead, are almost snow-white. She holds a book in her hand and mechanically turns the pages, but you may see the author has no power to arrest his reader's attention — her thoughts are far away. Miss Winifred Plantagenet is seated near her step-mother. The rays of the sun fall on her pale Saxon hair, which is arranged in a somewhat juvenile fashion. In the whole of this poor lady's appearance, you may trace that persistent struggle Miss Grushington. 189 with the inevitable which excites in my heart more of sadness than ridicule. It is so very difficult to accept your metier, so very hard to have it forced upon you that your day is over, so very painful to know that you must glide through the rest of your life, a pale shadow, useful only as a back- ground to throw out the charms of younger beauties. Satirists have darted their fiercest shafts at the honourable Miss Gushington; caricaturists are never weary of attacking the unhappy lady. The vanity which is engrained in smooth skins and bright eyes is tenderly treated, but out upon the monster if it dare to show itself in faded cheeks and scanty tresses. Miss Gushington is lovely Hebe's scapegoat ; her lean shoulders feel the cruel scourge, and no one heeds the scalding tears wrung from her poor dim eyes. When years fall upon Joan, she does not shudder at their weight ; faith- ful Darby helps her to bear the burden, and loving- young arms support her tenderly on her way. She can endure the loss of youth and beauty, for she still retains those priceless jewels, her husband's and her children's love. But what remains to Miss Gushington? Her life is a blank, barren waste, which she must toil through uncheered and unsustained. If she find some slight anodyne for 190 Famorth. her dull pain in those innocent follies of hers, should we not be merciful, and deal gently with her? Miss Winifred is busy with her embroidery; her white fingers dexterously guide the scissors which cut those symmetrical holes in the calico. I should think she must have finished some miles of this work during the last few years. She is most industrious, but she is no more absorbed in her occupation than her step-mother is in the book which she holds in her hands. Her thoughts are also far away. She is wandering into the past, that bright past, when she was a fair young girl, loving and beloved. How vividly it all returns to her — those walks in the green shrubberies — those stolen meetings in the library. How he loved her — that handsome man, with the vigorous intellect and deep, strong feelings; and oh, how fondly she returned his love ! She lingers tenderly over this happy period, and then she recalls that sud- den storm when the bright galley went down with its sails full set, and was lost amongst the breakers. She remembers how coarsely her savage father insulted her lover — she remembers the bitter answers, wrung from his pride ; and she sees herself, weak, powerless, stunned with all this misery, yielding to the wicked old baronet's cruel Fraternal Affection. 191 will. Why had she not braved his anger ? And the spectre of what might have been, rises, as it has so often risen, to plant another line upon her withered face. " Winsome Winny is thoughtful this morning," says the mocking voice of the young Baronet. " She has not spoken once during the last half- hour. I have noticed she is much more silent since she paid that last visit to the dentist. I — " " Will you draw down the blind, Mortimer, and leave off teasing Winifred ? " interposes my lady. " May I not admire her, mother ? Did you ever see a more charming toilette than your step- daughter has made this morning ? there is the sweet simplicity of eighteen about it. Who would imagine our Winifred had been presented to the fourth George before I was born. Why will you not take example by her, madam, and modify your matronly costume ? Look at her coiffure — what childish grace in those fair curls, and such a noble width, too, about the partings." " My dear boy, how foolishly you run on," says his mother, stirring once more to shield the un- happy victim. " Have you heard anything more of the fancy ball the good people of Farnorth are so anxious about ? " " Yes, it is to be held in the Concert Hall on the 192 Farnorth. twenty- fifth of this month, and you are to be the Lady Patroness. What costume shall we select for winsome Winny? With those Saxon curls she would make a beautiful Kowena. Had the bride of Ivanhoe the grand prononce nose of your step-daughter, madam ? I think not. The bloom has rather deepened there within the last few minutes." " You talk such absurd nonsense, Mortimer ; do be quiet. I wonder whether I shall be ex- pected to wear a fancy dress at this ball : if so, I must decline to patronise it." "You can wear any dress you like. Farnorth will only be too much honoured if you appear in your morning wrapper. Are you going to leave us, lovely Kowena ? Permit me ;" and with pre- tended courtesy, the Baronet rushed to open the door for the badgered woman. " You really must restrain your teasing propen- sities, Mortimer. There were tears in your sister's eyes when she left the room." " Bah ! the whining hypocritical old cat : she would scratch if I did not pare her claws. A nice life you must have had with her when you were first married. There would be many a round before the owner of that strong-minded Overall nose threw up the sponge, I know." Sir Mortimers Specialite. 193 " I am afraid we did quarrel a good deal ; no doubt there were faults on both sides. You have seen these Becklands people at last ; what do you think of the iron man's heiress? " "Pas mal; but there is so little of her — the cousin is superb." "Very beautiful, but quite portionless I am told. It will not do to lose your heart in that quarter." " My specialite is to win hearts, not to lose my own. I shall amuse myself with getting up a flirtation with both the fair cousins at the coming ball/' " You naughty boy, you never weary of this cruel sport. Have you no mercy on your victims ? " "Let them look and die," says the Baronet, with all the insolence of the great beau. " If they tumble out of love as quickly as they tumble into it, they will not take much harm. The worst of it is, they hand over their dear little hearts so confoundedly soon, they scarcely give you any sport ; but drop clown at your feet like sulphured pheasants before you have fired a shot. Preserve me from inspiring another grande passion. I have had such a dirge from across the channel this morning ;" and the Baronet pqinted lazily to one of the rose-coloured parallelograms. vol. i. o 194 Farnorth. " You have had a letter from Grace Avenel ? I am not at all surprised. I know she has told her friends she is engaged to you." " I dare say she thinks she is, but I have no in- tention of admitting anything of the kind. She has too much pride to enforce her claims. I shall leave her letters unanswered, and soon wriggle myself out of the house of bondage." "I cannot call it a very honourable proceeding," says his mother. " Shut up, my lady ! It won't do for you to talk about honour. You know how you treated the lawyer when the governor came forward." " The guide post can point out the right direc- tion, if it does not go the way itself," says her ladyship, slightly blushing. " Is it not just pos- sible Sir Lucius may call you to account ? " " He is too wise a man to compromise his niece by any such insane proceeding. No, my dear mother, Lady Clara Vere de Vere must submit to be jilted quietly ; she must grin and bear it. She cannot afford to take any bourgeois revenge. You may make your mind easy ; Grace Avenel will find some excellent reason to account for the sudden rupture of her engagement." " I cannot understand how you, with all your discretion, entangled yourself so far." A Morning Visitor. 195 " Pshaw ! I have been solemnly affianced a dozen times at least, and you behold me still a free man. I was rather smitten with Grace at first ; there is something piquante about her, I am willing to admit, and she was not an easy conquest. Moreover, I fancied she was likely to be much more heavily weighted than she proved to be. You know it was supposed she would come in for her aunt's money; and when the old lady died and left all her savings to the priests, it was quite wonderful how my ardour for her niece cooled. I cannot afford to sell my liberty under a very round sum, of which fact you are very well aware, mother mine. By the way, I have had a most unpleasant letter from Sir Thomas this morning. He wants his money, and threatens to foreclose, and all manner of horrors, if I do not pay up at once." " Which is simply impossible, I suppose ; and the mortgage is on the best part of the estate. What can " " Mr. Giles Houndly," Plush and Powder pom- pously announce. " Good morning, my lady ; ahem ! I hope your ladyship will pardon this early visit. Good morning, Sir Mortimer." Nothing could be more frigid than the reception 02 196 Farnorth. extended by the Baronet and his mother to their visitor, but Giles floundered about manfully in the Arctic Ocean. " I have been deputed by the most influential people in Farnorth to request your ladyship to be the Lady Patroness of the Fancy Ball, which is to be held in the Concert Hall on the twenty-fifth," he said, with as consequential a tone as it was in his power to assume. " I fancied this matter was finally settled when last I saw you," said the Baronet coldly. " I told you my mother " "I know you did, Sir Mortimer," interrupted (xiles, who was growing hot and uncomfortable in spite of his efforts. " I know you were kind enough to say so, but naturally we were anxious to receive an answer to our request from her lady- ship's own lips. Will your ladyship honour us so far?" "lama great invalid, as you know, Mr. Houndly, but if you desire my presence I cannot very well refuse it. You must not expect me to appear in fancy costume." " Certainly not, my lady, if you do not wish to do so. Wear whatever your ladyship likes, so that you honour us by your patronage at all. The presence of the real aristocracy, my lady, gives a Giles Houndly, Esq., on Pedigree. 197 tone to things of this kind," said Giles, quite him- self again now. " It is very pleasing to me to have the genuine good blood in the county again ; the Plutocrats have been carrying all before them lately. There is Harding of Becklands, a perfect mushroom, my lady " " I have been told he is most respectably con- nected/' interposed the Baronet. " I have not the least doubt, ahem ! he would like you to think so, Sir Mortimer," replied Giles, with a knowing wink; "but if Harding knows who his father was, that, I take it, is about the extent of his genealogical knowledge. That im- becile valetudinarian, his sister, is always prating about her maternal grandfather ; but no one cares for the blood which comes from the mother's side. Those mule-like pedigrees which ignore the jack- ass father, won't do for us, Sir Mortimer." "Mr. Harding has been very fortunate in his mining speculations, has he not?" enquired my lady, in a languid tone. " That he most certainly has, my lady. It is not more than six years since he first came here, and the quantity of money he must have turned over, I would not trust myself to say. He could buy up the mortgages on all the land about here for miles round ; and it would take no small sum 198 Farnorth. to do that, you know, Sir Mortimer," said Giles, viciously thrusting at his host. "His daughter will have plenty of groats, if she has not too much blood ; not but what she is as haughty as though she had been descended from the great Incas." " Was not her mother a Peruvian ? " enquired Sir Mortimer. " So they say. Harding has been twice married. He made a low match the first time, and his father cut him off with a shilling, and left a plum to his daughter, which, as I have found out, her aristo- cratic husband has managed to lose. After the death of his first wife, Harding went abroad, and there I suppose he picked up number two, who was the mother of Miss Zoe." " Mr. Harding appears to be a singularly grave and taciturn man," remarked her ladyship, whose icy manner was considerably thawed now. " Yes, my lady. Harding, during all the years he has been here, has been mute as a mouse about his antecedents. I only heard what I have now told you last week. You know what women's tongues are, Sir Mortimer. I beg your ladyship's pardon — there are exceptions of course to every rule. But I was going to say, all my news has been gathered from some crumbs which fell over Mrs. Bland's tea table. Harding's sister made a Giles's Opinion of the Silvesters. 199 long call on the widow the other day, and told her these particulars of the family history ; so my authority is very good." [It was quite true — Mrs. Silvester had given full licence to her tongue at that friendly visit. She had cackled to her heart's content. When Algy came to hear of it he was furious — Mokanna had shown a hideous face to poor Zelica in her dressing-room.] " Mr. Harding's niece is very handsome," drawled the Baronet. " Clara Silvester is the finest woman that ever walked God's earth," said Giles with enthusiasm ; " and there is something in her, too." [Clara was about the only person I ever heard Giles speak of in really favourable terms. I am certain she mis:ht have been the mistress of Gothic Hall, had she been so minded.] " She does not resemble her father," said my lady. " Not in the least, though I dare say Silvester has been a good-looking man in his day ; there's blood and breed about him — good blood on both sides," said Giles, with a second thrust at his host. " Silvester is first cousin to Lord Shorthorn, and his daughter is a regular beauty and no mistake ; she throws her little cousin quite into the shade." " Miss Harding is certainly mignonne, but she is 200 Farnorth. very pretty and distinguished looking," remarked my lady. " I cannot agree with your ladyship, but I really have no taste for pocket Venuses. Small as ' she is though, I dare say Harding is ambitious enough for her — he intends her to make a brilliant match you may depend. The owner of the Weasle is a sharp fellow in general. I do not know what he is about to let that soldier walk in and out of his house like a tame dog. He may fancy the red- coat is smitten with his handsome niece, and perhaps he is ; but Horace is wide-awake — he will look after the golden prize, or I am very much mistaken." " I have seen this Horace Snowe several times ; who is he ? " enquired the Baronet. " Ahem ! That question, Sir Mortimer," replied Giles, in his element now, " he would be very much puzzled to answer himself. The spinsters of Eose Cottage came here soon after you went abroad. They brought this Horace with them — he was quite a child. Where they came from, or to whom they belong, no one knows. They have laid themselves open to a great amount of gossip, naturally enough — people will talk you know, my lady — and they say, ahem ! but I will not offend your ladyship's ears with what they do say ; and Mutual Backbiting. 201 now I must really take my leave. Shall we see you ou the bench, Sir Mortimer? rather an in- teresting case going on. No ? I am sorry to hear that. Good morning. Good morning, my lady ; we may reckon on your patronage ? " Her ladyship bowed haughtily, ignoring Giles's outstretched hand, and that gentleman took his departure. [" An insolent, proud peat her ladyship is, sir," growled Giles to Algy, whom he met in High Street. " My Lady Overall Plantagenet did not give herself more airs and graces than this parvenue does. I remember the time when Nelly Brown was friendly enough with me. Her father, old Caleb Brown, was a decent, honest tradesman, sir ; he gave you good broad-cloth, and his coats were a perfect fit — he has measured me more than once, and waited on me, sir, hat in hand. If her lady- ship thinks I have forgotten the shears and cabbage she is very much mistaken. Farnorth has a tenacious memory, sir. My lady had better not insult it with her presumptuous impertinence, or it may exhume some other little things which the baronet's mother would prefer to remain buried," muttered Giles mysteriously.] " Houndly is a vulgar, pretentious beast," says his majesty of Foxcroft, when the door had closed 202 Farnorth. on their loquacious guest. " He talk about pedi- gree, indeed ! Why, his grandfather shaved chins at a penny the beard. We must tolerate him though, for he is an excellent medium for con- veying to us the gossip of the neighbourhood. I wanted to know some particulars about this new owner of Becklands. If he be really the Croesus Houndly says he is, what do you say, madre mia? shall I cultivate the little heiress his daughter with more serious intentions than pour mamuser et faire passer le temps ? " " But if you have really compromised yourself with Grace Avenel," remonstrated his mother, " you are bound in honour " "Pshaw; bound in honour, indeed! Bound in calf-skin rather. Out of what novel have you picked up all this fade sentimental rubbish ? I am as free as air, mother. I can destroy what you will so provokingly term my engagement, just as easily as I can these impassioned reminders of it," and so speaking, the Baronet consigns poor Grace Avenel's loving epistles to the same fate which had attended their late vulgar-looking, obnoxious companions in the post-bag. " It appears there is already a rival in the field, and you have seen him, you say. Is he handsome?" Sir Mortimer marks a New Victim. 203 " That is a matter of taste. I do not admire red whiskers." " Ni moi non plus ; but this little Spanish girl may not object to them. His profession, too, is an advantage." " The fellow is only a worm-crusher I believe," yawns Lovelace. "I am rather glad there is a rival ; it will give piquancy to the affair. I wish I had to besiege la belle cousine, instead of this little provengale. There would be some credit in winning such a superb creature as Clara Silvester. I am afraid the little heiress will not yield any sport, but drop down at my feet like the rest of my sulphured pheasants. These easy conquests are a bore," sighs his majesty, as he throws himself back in his chair, and complacently strokes his silky moustache. "It is well your victims do not hear you, Mortimer," says his mother. "When will you commence your attack ? " she adds, with a smile. " I shall fire my first shot at this fancy ball ; and that reminds me — I must think about a costume. All these things are so abominably expensive," he says, ruefully. Sir Mortimer does not like parting with his money on any pretence whatever. You would be surprised if you only knew what strict economy is 204 Farnorth. practised in every detail of his gorgeous establish- ment. That simile of the Hidalgo's dinner, which I have applied to the entertainments given by the county families of Farnorth, is singularly applicable likewise to the Baronet's domestic arrangements. There is a great deal more table- cloth than meat at Plantagenet Park ; table-cloth, so to speak, pervades the whole household. His majesty is fond of show and glitter ; and it is very difficult to combine this taste with a naturally penurious disposition. He will not abate an inch of table-cloth, and so he curtails the meat. There is a stint of comfort at the palace. The intelligent reader may have observed I have glanced at this fact when I said the ladies of Becklands had shivered in my Lady Plantagenet's large morning- room when they returned her ladyship's con- descending visits. There was a lack of fires at Foxcroft. I am pretty certain the tradespeople of Farnorth eat a better dinner every day off their willow-patterned plates than is daily set before his majesty of Foxcroft, though Monseigneur's may be served on silver. My lady's jointure is a tolerably good one. Nelly Brown did not throw over her own and Edward Sparkles' happiness without securing to herself some collateral advantages. The ena- Pecuniary Embarrassments. 205 moured old Baronet had to pay pretty well for his fancy. [The hatchment for her first ladyship had barely appeared on the walls of Foxcroft before the settlements for his second marriage were drawn up.] My lady expends nearly the whole of her income over her son's household. She does not reserve to herself much pin-money — and even out of that reservation she is liberal in gifts to her step-daughter. It is well for Miss Winifred that she is, for, as I mentioned before, her unprincipled old father dissipated her fortune during her minority, and, dying intestate, has left her dependent on her brother. I do not think his majesty would ever help her to purchase those fal- lals with which the poor lady loves to adorn herself. "Fancy costumes are such abominably expen- sive things to buy," the Baronet repeats; "and there is no chance of hiring any in these benighted regions." "It would scarcely suit the dignity of the master of Foxcroft to appear in second-hand clothes," says my lady. " I dare say I can find money enough to provide a dress to set off my son's good looks; where nature has been so bountiful very little art is needed." The Baronet throws his eyes for a moment on the mirror opposite. 206 Farnorth. "I think I shall not have much difficulty in running down the soldier. Faugh! I have no fancy for losing my liberty though. I never had any taste for that ceremony which, as Walter Scott says, begins with 'Dearly beloved,' and ends with ' amazement.' " "I think the little Peruvian very charming," says her ladyship. The Baronet makes a wry face. "It requires the whole of the sugar, lying to her father's account at his bankers, to reconcile me to the dose ; however, if I am to take the grand serieux air with one cousin, I shall most assuredly amuse myself with the other ; and now I must attend to these dispatches," And the grace- ful Baronet lazily leaves the room. How wonderful is the power of maternal love ! My Lady Plantagenet is a sensible woman. She has a very just idea of right and wrong. She is, to a certain extent, well disciplined — no one could lie, a helpless invalid, the many years that she has done, without learning to think seriously- — and yet, this superior woman is blind and deaf to the contemptible nature of her handsome son. Those coxcomb speeches of his, which have nauseated me as I have written them, have not disgusted his mother. She has Maternal Consideration. 207 sometimes met them with a mild remonstrance, and that is all. When my lady recommends Zoe Harding to her son, she thinks she is carving out a brilliant destiny for the iron man's daughter. Sir Mortimer is young, handsome, and most fasci- nating in his mother's partial eyes. He has rank and position. What could the most exigeante heiress require more? Her ladyship has been greatly charmed with the pretty child — the naive winning manners of Zoe Harding have quite fascinated the woman of the world, and she is really anxious to secure her for her son — and so that splendid hawk, Sir Mortimer, prepares him- self to swoop upon the tender little bird, and tear her gentle heart out with his cruel claws. 208 Farnorth. CHAPTER XV. I hope the reader has not forgotten the Reverend Archibald Middleton, the clerical Adonis whose star shone so brightly before the planet Mars, in the shape of Horace Snowe, partially dimmed its lustre. I have never once alluded to his Reverence since that dinner at Mr. Harding's, when Sword threw Gown so sadly in the shade. I don't think the young ladies at Becklands treated the clergy- man well that evening. They permitted the soldier to monopolise the whole of their attention, and left the man of peace to graze upon Books of Beauty and stereoscopic views, and find what pasturage he could. Poor Gown had glared savagely at Sword, and his thoughts had wandered wistfully to those pleasant tea parties in Farnorth, where he had reigned monarch of all he surveyed since he came to the neighbourhood. The young Curate is a good-looking man, in spite of the closely shaven lip and chin, which Protestantism enforces as rigidly on its clergy as Papistry does The Reverend Archibald Middleton. 209 the tonsure on its monkish priests ; he is well connected, and has alluded more than once to the living of Slippersly, in the beautiful county of that name, which living is in the gift of his father, and will, of course, revert to the young man when time and gout have removed the present incum- bent. Perhaps this last fact (I mean the reversion of the living) may have a little to do with the Reverend Archibald's excessive popularity amongst the matrons and their pretty young daughters of our district. Mrs. Bland is particularly fond of the curate — the relict really feels quite motherly towards him — she told Mrs. Silvester so, on the memorable day when Algy's wife paid that long visit. I have hinted that Sophy Bland has a great partiality for her young pastor, and I believe the partiality is mutual, and might have culmi- nated before this in a satisfactory manner, if the clergyman had not been invited to that dinner at Becklands. He did not enjoy himself, as we have seen — he was made to play second fiddle, or, indeed, scarcely any fiddle at all — and when you have led the orchestra for some time, it is very painful to fill a subordinate position. Neverthe- less, out of that mortifying evening ideas were begotten in the mind of Sophy Bland's idol which were very unfavourable to the innocent hopes of VOL. i. p 210 Farnorth. his pretty worshipper. From the corner where he had sat neglected in the Becklands drawing- room, the good-looking curate had watched and admired his beautiful young hostess — magnificent Clara did not eclipse charming Zoe in the eyes of his Keverence. I am afraid he was dazzled with the golden shimmer which surrounded the young heiress ; but he thought he was only smitten with her youth and beauty. When he took Zoe's little hand in his at parting, poor Sophy Bland was nowhere in the fickle thoughts of her clerical lover. "Faint heart never won fair lady," his Reverence murmurs, as he returns to his bachelor rooms at Farnorth, and he determines from that hour to drop the widow's daughter and try his chance with Mr. Harding's heiress. How beau- tifully she would grace the quaint rooms of the Rectory of Slippersly, its future rector thinks, and then he falls to calculating — as I fear he has often done before — the age of the present incumbent, and the probability of the next attack of gout carrying him off, &c. &c. ; for bare feet ivill long to thrust themselves into comfortable shoes, even though the longing involve unchristianlike hopes. Cold looks and freezing words chill Sophy Bland's tender heart when next she meets her pastor at those pleasant tea parties. Tears dim her bright The Faithless Lover. 211 eyes, and a wistful look shadows her pretty face as she wonders at the change. The Curate is vain, and somewhat worldly, but he is not heart- less, and he has a conscience, and that conscience reproaches him at sight of Sophy's pale wan face ; but it does not turn him from his course, and so the Keverend Archibald commences his wooing of the young heiress. The Baronet, who, as we have seen, is meditat- ing an attack in the same direction, will be aided and abetted by his lady mother. Clara has inculpated his maiden aunts in those invidious hints which she has breathed against the soldier. She has indirectly accused the poor ladies of assisting then* nephew in his interested pursuit — for interested Algy's daughter constantly declares that pursuit to be. The Keverend Archibald Middleton has no kind feminine friend to help him, and so he goes in manfully to win his honours with his own right hand. In the morning call that he made at Becklands after that unlucky dinner, the Curate strove very hard to be fascinating, and say clever things. "The desire of appearing clever often prevents our being so," says the French sage — and his pithy saying was applicable to the Keverend Archibald. The jewels he produced were mere p 2 212 Farnortk Brummagem ware — glass beads, fit onlv to dazzle the eyes of the ignorant little savages who formed the principal portion of the Farnorth tea parties. When the man of peace took his leave, Clara discussed him as unmercifully as she had done on the previous evening. His designs were quite transparent to this terrible young person, and she did not spare him.